#and he bitches constantly about me having to handle two departments 'because it's not doing a service to us'

[chadillacboseman]

A new chair took over one of my departments and I want to kill him with my bare hands.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Do you have any recs for Reallyyy long fics? Like 200-300k+ words? That isn't 91W... avoiding that one because I feel like it will hurt me... preferably fix-its? Oh and no a/b/o pls :) thanksss

Here are a few:

Angel's Wild by riseofthefallenone (Explicit, 389k words)

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Bitch Better Have My Money by Duckyboos (Explicit, 256k words)

How Dean Winchester - mechanic, shitty cook, single father - became the power behind the throne in one of the biggest crime syndicates in the Midwest.

Computer Safety Verse by followthattardis (Explicit, 232k words)

On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (Explicit, 228k words)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Light me up by tricia_16 (Explicit, 218k words)

Five years after participating in a life-changing threesome with his then-girlfriend and her friend Cas, Dean's single, comfortably bisexual, and has everything he's ever wanted except for that special someone to share his life with. When tragedy strikes, he and Cas are reunited in an unexpected way, and a split-second decision entangles their lives in ways neither of them could have predicted…

Not Part of the Plan by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 337k words)

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations. Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

one million fires burning by dothraki_shieldmaiden (Explicit, 248k words)

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough. Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass? Completely irrelevant.

Redux by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 386k words)

Dean Winchester is dead. For decades, he, along with Castiel and Sam, has led a peaceful afterlife in heaven. He has everything he’s ever wanted: a home, his family and friends surrounding him, and a relationship with Cas—and he’s bored as hell. Until, one day, Chuck escapes heaven’s lock up and begins capturing souls to regain power. To stop him, Jack sends Dean, Cas, and Sam back to Earth. After so long away from hunting, will they be able to once again find their place in the family business?

Talk Some Sense To Me (Kenopsia) by ImYourHoneyBee (Explicit, 244k words)

Scrambling to his knees Castiel hugs back, burying his face in Dean’s neck, breath coming in fast little pants against his skin. Dean closes his eyes and just breathes him in, barely able to believe that this is real. At any other time in his life, closing his eyes against a threat like Death would be an inexcusable lapse in his hunter’s judgement. Right now, he doesn’t give a single fuck. Death can reap him for all he cares, he’ll die knowing Cas is going to be ok. Alive. “I will see you soon, Dean,” Death tells him, that deliberate voice of his soft enough not to intrude on the intimacy of the moment, “Raincheck on that grilled cheese.” “Thank you,” Dean croaks, propping his chin up on Cas’s shoulder, unmindful of the tears trickling down his cheeks, “Thank you.”

The Closest Thing We Have To Magic by EllenOfOz, TrenchcoatBaby (Explicit, 221k words)

Dean Winchester is a graduate student at Stanford University’s School of the Occult. A naturally-talented mage but a lazy professor and student, he figures he’ll coast through his final year the way he always has: with charisma, charm, and a natural aptitude for magic. All that changes when his thesis advisor, Dr. Castiel Novak, turns out to be the strictest and most challenging educator on-campus. Unfortunately for Dean, the uptight professor is nearly his age and infuriatingly gorgeous. But Castiel is keeping a secret, a powerful talent that’s more a curse than a blessing when he’s targeted by seditious parts of magical society. Can Dean and Cas put aside their animosity—and undeniable chemistry—long enough to instill real change in the magical community? Or will sinister plots and hidden agendas keep them apart?

To Build a Home by intothesilentland (Mature, 383k words)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection. Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone. God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

Under The Midnight Sun by NorthernSparrow (Explicit, 232k words)

Dean Winchester’s been camp manager of a science research station on the Alaskan tundra for thirteen years. Dean likes his job; fixing the camp trucks, troubleshooting the generators, keeping clueless undergrads and NSF bigwigs from walking into grizzly bears or getting lost in snowstorms — it’s all in a day’s work. It keeps him pretty busy, and this year his brother Sam's visiting too, so he's even busier. So it’s really not any of Dean’s business when some weirdo antisocial ornithologist sets up a tent a few miles away, a dark-haired blue-eyed guy who’s doing a “very long-term" study on birds or wings or something, and who never, ever takes off his big lumpy backpack. But then the new guy starts dropping by camp for coffee and… well, he’s not officially part of camp; he's not Dean’s responsibility; he’s really not Dean’s problem at all, but when a strange blizzard comes sweeping in, Dean gets worried and goes to check. Thing is, Dean's spent years in the sweeping vistas of the Arctic. He knows all about the midnight sun and the northern lights, the ice caves and avalanches, the rough-and-ready Haul Road truckers and the even rougher-and-readier wild animals. But even so, what he finds is much more than he bargained for.

With Interest by everandanon (Explicit, 296k words)

Eighteen, bored, and not quite able to turn down the money, Cas agrees to an ill-advised bet, and Dean's heart isn't the only one that gets broken. Eleven years later, grieving his twin brother and struggling to take care of his niece, Cas finally returns home — only to meet Dean again and discover that the boy he left behind has grown up a lot. And now, Dean seems to have every intention of getting him back — with interest.

You can also check our >100k tag for all the longer fics we rec.

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 04.11.20 lb

ok speed-watched the 3rd nov ep and here are the highlights:

mummy and kabir ka freakout about ragini being alive.

someone in a mask (siya??????) knocking already paralysed riddhima out with chloroform when she tries to make a call to kabir.

kabir sneaking into the mansion and riddhima passing on a message to him in the form of a conversation with vansh, during which she challenges V that she'll steal ragini away from him.

kabir looking 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽 hey boy are you a family pack of haldiram's aloo bhujia coz you AN ABSOLUTE SNACCCC. (i think there was a convo between him and mummy ki she has to help riddhima so that riddhima can get him to ragini. but i was too busy staring at his neck/chest coz......... tharak. 😜😜😜)  

vansh digging a grave in his backyard at midnight like the fucking weirdo he is, and riddhima being like smh really, i got horny for THIS dude???????

some cocky talk by vansh next morning about how his mission for revenge is finally gonna come to a head today and how riddhima should be happy coz this means that they can start their new lives together. followed by some truly savage dahi-cheeni eating that grossed me tf out. this show really doing The Most to make this hot dude absolutely repulsive to me.

vansh instructing ishani to keep an eye on riddhima to make sure she doesn't leave the house today.

ok now that you're caught up, onwardsssssssssss!

———————————————————————

*pink panther theme music playing*

mummy distracting ishani from noticing riddhima in the most Boomer way possible; phone mein app download nahi ho raha, mere liye kardo plssssssss.

“teen saal pehle jo kaam humara fail ho gaya tha woh waapas aa raha hai.” 0.0% surprising revelation that they the ones who tried to murder ragini.

mask person has knocked riddhima out YET AGAIN. THE SECOND TIME IN LIKE, 12 HOURS. DUDE. THIS CAN'T BE GOOD FOR HER HEALTH. Y'ALL FUCKING CRAZY.

oh thank god, dadi is finally back. not that inki kuch khaas chalti hai, but at least these three raisinghania hellions will stop constantly giving riddhima mini-comas every 6 hours, on the dot. yes, i'm fully including siya in it, i'm absolutely sure that she's the mask person now. idk why, but i am.

mummy is like oufff isko nikalna tha aur behosh ho gayi aur ab yahaan baithi juice pee rahi hai manhoos.

riddhima like yup, there's definitely another person here other than ishani who's helping vansh. YEAH IT SIYA YOU DUMBASSSSSSSS.

riddhima doing bukhaar waali acting and i'm sure has hacked the thermometer hum hain raahi pyaar ke style to show temp of 103.

a doctor has been called and kabir has been informed ki riddhima is awwal number ki nikkami jisne saara plan fail kiya hua hai.

but behen is super duper determined and convinced that she will beat vansh no matter what. yeah sis. beat him. beat him over the head with a danda.

lmaoooooooooooooo look at these two smirking at each other over their shady shenanigans. the real love story of this show.

“aise important mauke waste karna hi uska talent hai.” i truly live for mummy's verbal evisceration of riddhima.

kabir sure ki this is part of riddhima's plan. get you a man like kabir who has fulllllll confidence in you. not one like vansh who constantly underestimates you. oh, and paralyses you.

ishani is truly Forever Mood.

gaadi ruk gayi. smirky boys not smirking anymore.

snort. someone’s been watching a little too much ipk on hotstar.

riddhima has picked up a trick from the raisinghanias. aur do issko ideas.

“i'm so proud of you riddhima!!!!!!!!”

i love his snarky asssssss so much. 

SHE WAS RUSHING AROUND SAYING TIME NAHI HAI TIME NAHI HAI HAR EK MINUTE KEEMTI HAI RAGINI KO BACHAANE KE LIYE, BUT NOW SHE HAS TIME TO STAND AROUND AND IMAGINE HER TWO BOYTOYS DEBATING ABOUT PYAAR AND FARZ. GODDDDDDDDDDDDD

waise bhi, do hotties ko saath mein imagine karr hi rahi ho toh bhi yeh lameass debate? wouldn't be me. my imagination would have them shirtless and wrestling for my hand in marriage.

BITCH EVERY MAN IS A UNIQUE NIGHTMARE IN HIS OWN WAY; STOP WASTING TIME OVER CHOOSING ONE OF THEM AND JUST GET YOUR ASS MOVINGGGGGGGG

rrahul's angry acting is unbearable.

doctor has to be a dumbass not to ask her why it took her HALF AN HOUR to just give one injection. and what's with the drastic change in eye makeup situation?!?!!?!?! the patient gave you a makeover?????

ishani yeh ghatiya blue lenses hatao toh tumhe dikhe jo mummy ko dikha.

idhar they've literally been standing around doing jack for one hour. in this time, literally 40 autos have passed him and he didn't think to hail even one of them.

EVEN NOW HE'S SCREAMING AT THE CARS TO STOP AND NOT THE EMPTYASSSSSSS AUTOS. ARE YOU ALLOWED TO BE A MAFIA LEADER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE IS THAT MADE HIM SO GODDAMN RICH IF YOU'RE THIS FUCKING STOOOOOPID????????

pachchis minute to reach aaaaaaaaaaaaaand...........

yup. this is the choice he makes. wonderful.  

riddhima’s new gig as an uber driver has commenced with an auspicious customer.

RACE SAANSON KI.

RACE CHAAHAT KI.

RACE DHADKAN KI.

MY HEART IS RACING ON!!!!!!!!! (because i am very very unfit and have severe anxiety.)

watch out milind soman, you got competition in the hot-dude-running-for-absolutely-no-good-reason department.

ishani knows bhaabi sus as hell and damn near breaking the door down.

but dadi came and took her away. but not before they peeked in and saw SOMEONE in bed and assumed it's riddhima. raisinghanias really got shit for brains.

meanwhile..........

yeah, this looks like it's going as well as i expected.

he just hurt his leg and then when he stood up the pant leg still spotless white.

if kabir wasn't a murderous psycho who wanted to murder ragini himself his righteous anger seeing her haalat would totally turn me on rn.

LMAO WHAT, YOU WANT HER TO TAKE RAGINI OUT WHILE YOU HANDLE THE NURSE?!?!?! HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE HOW IS TINY BIRD LIKE RIDDHIMA SUPPOSED TO SMUGGLE AN UNCONSCIOUS WOMAN HER SIZE OUT???? LET *HER* HANDLE THE NURSE AND YOU CARRY RAGINI OUT, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS.

“usse harm mat karna.”

kabir nods yes AND THEN PROMPTLY GOES ON TO SUFFOCATE THE NURSE. MAN, YOU PPL IN THIS SHOW REALLY TAKE UNCONSCIOUSNESS VERYYYYYYYYYYYYY LIGHTLY.

how is ragini's hair so shiny and conditioned and still in the braid after being bedridden for 3 years, when my hair is a fucking chidiya ka ghosla after a half hour nap????

lo, yeh mahashay finally pohunch gaye.

OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

oh thank god. idk why i'm so invested in kameena kabir getting away with his shit, but i am. i just like him better.

he knows someone is here and made the nurse unconscious. THEN WHY THE FUCK IS HE YELLLLLLLLLLLING AND LETTING WHOEVER IS TRYING TO GET RAGINI KNOW THAT HE’S HERE AND COMING INTO THE ROOM?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?

pls god can this show free rrahul??? he needs to be in a softboy romantic role where he can flash his puppy eyes and sassy smile. this role is just notttttttt a good fit for him. THIS IS LIKE WHEN THEY MADE OMKARA A CRAZYASS JUNGLEEEEEE IN DBO ALLLLLL OVER AGAIN. IT JUST DOESN’T FIT THE ACTOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LMAO ISKI KHUSHIIIIIIIII TOH DEKHO. truly, nothing makes me happier than a woman who has fucked a man over and made him miserable. and this one toh particularly deserved it also. i know it’s all gonna turn to shit later coz she’ll have ruined some mission that had a “noble” reason behind it, but for now, i’m happy she managed to get at least a small badla for the paralysis thing.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Saving Grace - Part 10

Summary: Steve leaves you and your son to go back to Peggy unaware your pregnant.

Your heartbroken and struggling without Steve until Bucky Barnes steps up to help you out. With you and Bucky growing closer everyday will he be your saving Grace?

A/N- This was meant to be more of a filler part but then ended up at 2000+ words! 😂😂 im not even sure how i feel about this part but here we go! Enjoy 💕

The Wednesday before Bucky and I were planning to head to the cabin, he was called in for a mission that required the whole team so it must have been pretty bad. He promised he would do his best to get back in time so we could still go up there, but i knew we'd just have to let things play out and see what happened.

It was now Friday evening and he still wasn't home, i hadn't heard from him since the Wednesday evening and i just wanted to know he was okay.

At around 10pm i decided to head to bed to try and get some sleep, at least then i wouldn't be constantly worrying about Bucky and the team. Grace was fast asleep in her bassinet beside the bed and Harrison was star-fished on Bucky's side of the bed snoring slightly....I couldn't help but smile at the sight. When I heard a noise from downstairs I shot up in the bed suddenly alert.

"Buck?" I called out quietly so i didnt wake the kids, i knew he'd still hear me even with how quiet i was. When i got no response i made my way out to the hallway looking down over the staircase railing. My heart started racing when i saw two dark figures moving around down there. I turned and silently rushed back to the bedroom locking the door behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the bedside cabinet and called 911 as i rushed to my wardrobe to pull out the lockbox that held our guns.

"911 whats your emergency?" A woman answered my call, i quietly told her what was happening and gave her the address. She advised she would get someone over ASAP. I hung up and dialled the compounds private number hoping someone would answer, maybe they could get here quicker!

"Hello?" A man answered on the third ring, i didn't recognise who it was.

"Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N...."

"Oh hi Y/N its Roy, the night guard"

"Shit.... Roy is their anyone there you can send to my house now!?? there's men breaking in.... are any of the team or any SHIELD agents around?"

"Oh.... erm I'm not sure. Stay on the line and i will check real quick".

It felt like he was gone forever when it was only a few seconds.

"Y/N???!"

"Steve??! Oh thank god! There's men breaking in!!"

"What?!!"

"Two of them that i saw. Ive locked myself in the bedroom with the kids"

"Im on my way sweetheart just stay where you are. You have your gun?"

"Yeah, please hurry!" I said hanging up.

I carried Grace's bassinet into the ensuite bathroom and then went and got Harrison and took him in there too.

"Mama what you doing?" He asked sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

"Shhhh baby, i need you to stay in here with Grace and be very quiet okay?"

"Okay" he nodded and sat on the floor beside Grace's bassinet.

"Remember to stay very quiet, and dont come out until i say so" i closed the door and took the time to check my gun over. Oh god, what i would give to have Bucky home right now, he would have taken them out already without breaking a sweat! It had been years since i had retired from the Avenging life, the day i found out i was pregnant with Harrison was my last day on the job. All i was worried about was my kids getting hurt, what if i was too out of practise to defend myself against these intruders..... my internal panic was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard one of the doors open, the guest bedroom probably as that was closest to the stairs..... then the bathroom, Harrison's bedroom and then they stopped outside my room. The door handle jiggled as they tried to open it "over here!" I heard a man say before a loud thump on the door where he was obviously trying to bust the door open.

I stood to the side of the door gun aimed ready to fire when they made it through, because lets face it they would get through eventually!! I clicked off the safety and took some deep breaths trying to calm myself down. Suddenly the door gave way and the first figure stumbled into the dark room looking around, i aimed my gun at his leg and fired.... he yelled and fell to the floor as the bullet hit him in the thigh. The second figure dived at me pushing my arms up so my shot missed him. He knocked the gun from my hands and punched me hard in the face sending me to the floor.

"You okay?" He asked turning to his friend who was  laying on the floor holding his leg.

"No!"

While he was distracted i turned to try and crawl to the where my gun had landed only for him to grab my ankle and pull me away. He reached down trying to grab me by the hair but i twisted round and kicked him away. He stumbled back crashing into the dresser looking surprised that i was fighting back. I rolled to my feet again as he tried to rush me, i dodged him easily suddenly remembering my days training with Nat and Steve. I got a few good hits in before he got a hold of me and threw me into my vanity table where i crashed into the mirror landing in the broken shards of the mirror. The man walked over looking proud of himself and he looked down at me.

"You put up a good fight i give you that" he laughed wiping blood from his split lip "I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Please stop..... why are you doing this?" I asked, Grace started crying in the bathroom and i could hear Harrison shh'n her.

"Well well well, what do we have here huh?" He grinned and started to walk towards the bathroom.

"No!!!!" I screamed and launched myself off the floor diving onto the man "you leave them alone!!" i tried to fight but i could feel the shards of broken mirror digging in various parts of my body. He tossed me aside again giving me a hard punch to the gut winding me and sending me to my knees.

"Get away from them!!" i yelled as he carried on towards the bathroom.

Another figure suddenly charged into the room crashing into the man and sending him flying into the wall so hard he was out cold on impact! I breathed a sigh of relief realising Steve had arrived.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knee's beside me "are you okay?"

"There's another guy, i shot him in the leg...."

"Looks like he bled out sweetheart"

"Check on the kids" i said pointing at the bathroom hearing Grace screaming "i dont want Harrison seeing me like this...."

"Okay" he nodded and walked over to the bathroom opening the door.

"Hey pal" i heard Steve say to Harrison "you doing okay in here?"

"Where's mama...."

"Im okay baby, just stay in there with your dad for me for a minute okay?"

"Hi sweet girl, your okay.... sshhh" i could hear Steve as he cradled Grace.

"Police department!" I suddenly heard someone yell from downstairs......great timing!!

"I still think you should have gone to the hospital Y/N or at least to the compound. See Dr Cho" Steve said as he pulled another piece of broken mirror from my back. The police had taken the body of the man i shot and arrested the surviving intruder, i had refused to go to the hospital though.... id had worse than this before.

"Im okay, its not serious. Looks worse than it is" i said holding a towel full of ice to my face.

"Some of these are pretty deep, their gonna need stitches...."

"Then stitch them up!" I snapped at him "god Steve, its not like it would be the first time!"

"Your right it wouldn't, but we were in the field with no option but for me to stitch you up! Now we can get you proper medical care!"

I dropped my face into my hands as i began to cry, i couldn't hold it in any more. The adrenaline was wearing off and now the shock was setting in.

"I just want Bucky" i sobbed, i felt Steve tense up at the mention of Bucky's name before he carefully wrapped his arms around me.

"I know sweetheart, i've tried calling him and the rest of the team. I left a message"

"Where are the kids?"

"In Harrisons room, Grace is sleeping and Harrison was watching cartoons"

"I dont know what i would have done if they had been hurt!.... if you hadnt of showed up when you did Steve...."

"Dont think about that, i did show up and they are fine!" He said with a smile wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"Thank you Steve, i mean it"

"You dont need to thank me sweetheart"

"Y/N!!!" I heard Bucky's frantic voice yell before his thundering footsteps on the stairs.

"Bucky" i sighed in relief. Within seconds he was in the room and pulling me into his arms, Wanda and Sam appearing seconds behind him.

"Ow Buck careful" i said wincing as his arm pressed into one of the shards still in my back.

"Doll why aren't you at the hospital!?"

"She refused to let me take her, you know how stubborn she can be" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Id be fine if you'd stop bitching and just stitch me up!"

"Okay come on, let me take a look. Wanda, can you check on the kids please?"

"Their fine Buck i made sure...." Steve started to say but she turned and went anyway.

"You wanna fill me in on what happened here?" Sam said to Steve looking pissed.

"Sure".

Once in the bathroom Bucky carefully removed my tank top to get a better look at my wounds.

"Baby some of these are really bad...."

Bucky said as his fingers gently traced over my back.

"Just do it Buck, I'm not going to the hospital! I can take it"

"Okay" he sighed pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. Bucky spent the next 15 minutes or so pulling shards of mirror from my back and some in my left arm. He stitched one pretty deep wound, the rest he just cleaned and covered with bandages. Once he was done he wrapped me in his arms holding me close.

"I was so scared Buck" i mumbled against his chest "i just wanted you. I knew if you were here we'd be fine"

"I know doll, me too. When i got that message from Steve...." he shook his head "i could have lost you today, you and the kids.... i could have lost my family"

"You didn't though, we're fine"

"Your not fine! look at what that son of a bitch did to you!"

"It could have been a lot worse, i got lucky. I never thought id be so happy to see Steve again..... the guy was going for the kids Bucky and i couldn't stop him.....Steve just came out of nowhere"

"Im sure you did everything you could baby"

"I tried, but the truth is I'm out of practice. I haven't been in a fight or even picked up a gun since i found out i was pregnant with Harrison"

"You did good!" Bucky smiled leaning down and gently kissing me, i hissed slightly feeling the sting of the split lip from the punch id received and he quickly apologised.

"Guess this puts a stop to our weekend at the cabin huh? I cant even kiss you!" I moaned.

"We'll go as soon as you feel better i promise, we've waited this long right?"

"I guess so, i was just really looking forward to it"

"Oh me too! But i can wait".

Saving Grace tags: @jennmurawski13 @kenzieam

@captainchrisstan @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @lets--be-honest

@ms-betsy-fangirl @damnaged-princess

@farfromtommy @disneylovingal @lbuck121

@billweasleey @rynabarnesrogers

@heathens-takeitsl0w @lacontroller1991

@supervengerslock @barnesandrogersworld

@mariswritingforfun @perpetually-tuned-out

@thummbelina @marvelousstyles @broco8

@ineffableg-irl @ilovesupersoldiers

@writeroutoftime

[cloudninetonine]

Past Trauma

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader

Summary: Something bad happens at work and you finally spill about your past trauma to your boyfriend

A/N: This fic is kinda self projecting, so it’s gonna be kind of specific. Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just needed a way to vent and well, this was my way. Also, I’ve only really watched clips and seen odd episodes of Chicago P.D so sorry if Adam seems a pic OOC. He’s my fav and I really wanted to write something for him for so long and I just got impatient XD

I DO NOT OWN CHICAGO P.D OR MED THIS IS MERELY FANFICTION

Warnings: Abuse, graphic writing (Kinda?), thoughts of suicide, I think PTSD? (I would say PTSD just in case) Self-hatred (It’s a pretty dark fic, but it takes a more wholesome turn at the end)

(This gif seemed appropriate)

You and Adam had started dating a little over three years ago.

You had travelled from beyond the great blue to America for a new experience after medical school then ended up working in Chicago Med because you had “fallen in love with the windy city”

You had caught Adam’s attention straight away and after about three months of trying to get your attention, you finally agreed to go on a date with him. You were new to the whole scene, dating, flirting- everything, as you had been busy trying to get your life together before even thinking about bringing someone else into it and well, he was happy to help you into it. You were a great character, friendly, smart, considerate of those around you, playful and Adam had thought himself a lucky guy when he had finally bagged you.

Though he knew you were hiding things from him, no, not that you were cheating or had fallen out of love, much deeper things. You didn’t like to talk about your family life, you had mentioned your mother (A wonderful woman who he had met when she visited for Christmas) your closest friends, a chaotic but loving bunch, others here and there, but you didn’t go farther than that. You deliberately skipped moments in your life, you had bad days where you didn’t contact anyone and when he tried to get closer, you dodged him about the subject.

He understood everyone had their demons, but yours almost seemed to consume you and he always worried, it was a surprise your secrecy hadn’t caused any damage to the relationship but you had a way with your words and he loved you so much (something he admitted after a year of dating, the morning of your anniversary when he had stumbled in on you eating Oreos at 3 in the morning before he had slipped and told you that he loved you which resulted in you choking on a cookie)

He had hoped that one day, you would tell him about the thoughts in your head and well, the day had finally come.

There had been a brawl in the emergency bay at Chicago Med and he and Kevin had been sent over to investigate the disturbance. The scene hadn’t been too chaotic, but he would be lying if he said that there wasn’t a mess there. The suspect, a 19-year-old Lucia Carter, had been dragged out of the place in handcuffs, kicking and screeching loudly while blood dripped out of her nose accompanied with marks of an obvious scuffle on her face. Kevin had let out a low whistle at the damage as they walked by.

The detectives had approached the closest officer to ask about the details.

“Miss Carter is being apprehended for abuse, threats of murder and for assaulting a bystander” The young man had started “She came in when she found out her father had brought his son for a checkup after she had deliberately broken his arm, she started to get violent towards her parent and sibling, a doctor tried to interfere and it ended with them fighting. Security split them up eventually but it’s obvious that Miss Carter provoked the fight and that the doctor was protecting the victims so they won’t be charged”

“Alright, thank you”

Kevin had already begun talking with the father and the son, while Adam glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of your figure when only moments later, Sharon Goodwin had approached him, her face showing concern as she softly called for his attention. “Adam, please if you could come with me for a moment”

“Is there something wrong?” Adam asked, Kevin, glancing over at the sound of his partner’s voice.

“It’s about (Name)”

Adam’s eyes widened and he glanced back at Kevin, who promptly nodded in understanding before the detective and chief departed from the scene quietly to where you were being held.

“What happened?”

“Well, when Miss Carter began to get violent, (Name) decided to try and stop it but, from what I heard, Miss Carter slapped her and that’s what started the fight” Sharon started “It took two men to pry her off of Miss Carter and now, she’s not responding to anyone. Dr Charles is talking with her at the moment, well, trying, but he’s not getting very far, so we thought that it would be a good idea if you tried to talk with her”

The door to an employee lounge was pushed open to you and Dr Charles sitting opposite from one another. The older man was talking, his eyes only glancing towards Goodwin and Adam before settling back on you. You were deadly silent, staring ahead, straight through Dr Charles and your leg was bouncing with obvious tension. 

It made Adam nervous, especially when he could see some blood on the cuff of your coat.

“(Name)” Charles’ voice was soft as he settled a hand on your knee, “Adam’s here to see you”

You still didn’t react.

“(Name)?”

Your leg movement stopped for a moment, before continuing, much faster now.

“We’ll give you two a moment” Charles and Goodwin closed the door behind them quietly while Adam settled next to you silently, his hand coming to rest on your arm before slowly sliding down to grip your hand. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t really respond either, just limply held his hand in your own.

“Hey,” he greeted, enclosing your hand with both of his and placing a small kiss onto on fingers. “I heard what happened-”

Now that he was closer, he could see the damage. You had your glasses on, the left lens was cracked and under, your eye was bruised and bloody, your lip was busted and there was a small laceration on your face with blood slowly dripping onto your coat. You didn’t pay any mind to it, you didn’t really seem to care, but Adam’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight. You were in a better state than Lucia Carter, but that didn’t matter.

“Is that what she did to you?” His hand moved to grab your chin, hoping to inspect your injuries further but you immediately jumped up, catching his wrist firmly in your hand, nails digging into the skin while still holding his other hand loosely. Your eyes were frantic, your breathing had picked up and you were shaking violently as you glared at him.”Woah, woah, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s just me, it’s just Adam”

He was shocked, understandably so, but his eyes held a softness to them, one that was slowly helping you bring you back to reality.

Pained guilt flashed on your face and your hold on his wrist relaxed until it became limp and fell to your side “....I’m sorry…”

With a soft squeeze to your intertwined fingers, Adam tugged you back next to him “It’s okay”

“It’s not-” You tried to argue, but he shushed to gently before pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Can I hold you?”

“...Please”

His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged your closer, hugging you close to his figure as the two of you rocked back and forth gently, the man pressing soft kisses to where he could reach as he waited. Did he know what he was waiting for? No, but he knew you needed time and it would come out eventually.

And it did.

“I didn’t want it to turn out like that”

Adam glanced down at you “The fight?”

You hummed. “I didn’t want to make it any crazier than it was, but then she slapped me and I...I lost it”

“Why?” He couldn’t help but ask “You’re one of the most patient people I know”

“...She reminded me of my brother”

Adam stopped rocking and pulled back to look at you, watching as the look in your eyes twisted into something more, something dark and your lip curled in disgust.

“Brother? You’ve never mentioned you had a brother…”

“That’s because he isn’t” You growled, “He’s just a fucker that I’m related to”

It was then that Adam realised that this was what you had been keeping from him for so long, this was what he had been waiting for. He could see the tension that was building up in your system, the obvious hatred in your words and he decided that his curiosity could wait another day “You don’t have to explain-”

“I’ve kept this from you for three years, Adam” You looked him in the eye “You deserve an explanation and I can handle it, don’t worry”

He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed it gently “Okay, take your time”

A few moments, quiet, tense moments, but eventually, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and squeezed his hand.

“My brother was an abusive arsehole that used to torment me and my mum. It wasn’t always like that, I can still remember the good days, but he changed when we got older; he became more narcissistic, more demanding, rougher- like his father, might I add” You spat the words with venom, pupils shrinking in hatred “That fucker wasn’t around either, he hurt my mum before she kicked his arse out, but oh boy, did I get the experience of him from my brother; like father like son, am I right?”

You had said it in a joking way, but he could hear that rage behind it. You continued “My brother got worse when my gran died, he got more physical, wasn’t afraid to throw me or my mum around and I fucking hated it. I fought back for a while, we both did, but it only ended with aches for the next day and bruised self-esteem, so I gave up, but my mother didn’t, she was- is, way too strong for that, shame I can’t say the same about me”

Tears gathered in your eyes “Once again, it got more shitty when he got a job. Called me and my mum lazy bitches, constantly complained, blamed us for anything and everything, it was a fucking nightmare. Mum couldn’t work because of health problems, which he thought were bullshit, and me, I was way too scared to interact with people to get a job”

With a whimper, you brushed away the tear that fell down your cheek. “I was scared, he made me scared, I used to be so open and happy, but he ruined that. My mental health declined, I was constantly sad, I hated myself, I still hate myself and it’s because of him!”

You were starting to sob, it was quiet at first, but the more you talked, the louder it became “I hated him so much, I still hate him! But he made me hate myself more! It wasn’t fair! Why was I the worthless one? When he treated us like that? Why did I have to become sad and angry and scared!? It’s not fair, Adam! I deserved to be happy! But he didn’t let me! I was a wreck in what was supposed to be the best years of my life, because of him!”

You were choking on your tears and Adam had tried to console you, but you weren’t finished “S-So when that boy came in with his father, I knew, I could tell. He looked so sad, so broken and so did the father. The man was terrified when I confronted him! He tried to defend her, he said that their mother had died and she was acting out! I told him that was no excuse, that both of them deserved better! And you know what he did? He fucking cried! He said he was ashamed of himself, letting his daughter become this monster, his own daughter beat him and he was more ashamed at that than the fact that he was getting hurt, that he was scared, that he needed to protect his son from his fucking sister. He said he wasn’t a good father, but he was trying. My mum said the same thing, that I deserved better, but I didn’t! She was the best! And so was this guy! He was kind, supportive, loved his children but he got fucked over by a stupid bitch that couldn’t keep her hands to her fucking SELF!”

You stood, kicking over the table in front of you two and Adam jumped up. He wanted to do something, to calm you down, to tell you he loved you, but you needed to get this out, you need to say this, so he waited. 

“That boy is fucking ten! TEN-YEARS-OLD! AND HIS SISTER WAS DOING THAT TO HIM!? MOTHER FUCKING BITCH!” You kicked the table again and punched the wall “HE BLAMED HIMSELF, HE SAID THAT HE CAUSED IT, BUT IT WASN’T HIS FAULT, IT WAS HER FUCKING FAULT! And you know what else? HE SAID HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD! A TEN-YEAR-OLD, WANTED TO BE DEAD! SHE MADE HIM THINK THIS, SHE MADE HATE HIMSELF, MADE HIM WANNA KILL HIMSELF JUST LIKE- just like my brother had done to me”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking violently as you stared at the floor “I wanted to kill myself, just like that little boy had, sometimes, I still do and-…. And so when she slapped me...I lost it, I wanted to kill her, right there and then, because at that moment, she wasn’t Lucia Carter, she was my older brother, so I didn’t hold back…”

You were crying hysterically, holding yourself tightly as you tried to calm yourself down, a keep the oncoming panic attack down. God, you didn’t dare face Adam, you didn’t want to see the expression he wore, you were already ashamed, of the outburst, of yourself, everything and one of the only good things going in your life had heard you go off like a demented bitch. You wanted so badly to melt into the floor, but you were merely reduced to hiding behind closed eyes and a mess of tears.

Then arms wrapped around you and your face was pressed against a shoulder.

“I love you” Adam declared, tightening his hold as you began to wail against his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you did so “I love you, and I’m so sorry that you had to keep this to yourself for so long”

He pressed a kiss against your forehead, being wary of the wound.

“I’m sorry” You sobbed, “I’m sorry I kept this from you, I didn’t want you to see me differently, you’re one of the only good things going in my life, I didn’t want to lose you”

“I would never see you differently and you will never lose me” He whispered, “You’re strong, you’re smart, you’re so talented and you’re hot”

You laughed wetly against his shoulder “This just proves to me how amazing you are, and how lucky I am to have you. You’re so amazing and I am punching above my weight with you. I’m so glad to have you in my life and that’s never gonna change, babe, do you understand?”

You nodded against his shoulder, burying your face and inhaling his scent.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do” He raked his hand gently through your hair “We’re gonna get you checked out and patched up, talk to Dr Charles about these thoughts you’ve been having, head home, then order in some Chinese and just relax, okay?”

“Okay,” You pulled back a bit, eyes staring into his before leaning up and pressing a kiss against his lips. He kissed back softly, hand coming to hold the side of your jaw gently then pulling away and smiling at you “I love you so much”

“I love you too”

“Thank you for not thinking different of me”

He laughed and placed his forehead against yours “Never”

You smiled and intertwined your fingers.

You were lucky to have each other.

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.10

Storybrooke. Will & Tiana's Apartment. (Ella stands in front of a full length mirror, struggling to zip up her dress when Tiana enters.) Tiana: (Whistles:) “I mean, I was coming to show you our new uniforms, but clearly wherever you are going is more silk than silk screen.” Ella: “Henry and I are going on a date, to-” Tiana: “The Dragon’s Lair? Yeah, it’s the only high class restaurant in town, sweetie. Apart from the Rollin’ Bayou of course. Henry’s really pulling out all the stops. And by the looks of this number, so are you.” Ella: “Well, I need to at least present myself as a responsible adult - who can control her emotions, not fly off the handle.” Tiana: “That's ridiculous. Regina already forgave you for all that. El, what is really going on?” Ella: “It's complicated.” Tiana: “Oh, my God. You’re not nervous about going on a date with Henry are you? El, the boy is madly in love with you. You have zero to worry about, okay?” Ella: “I’m not worried.” Tiana: “She says, lying to herself and her best friend.” Ella: “Stop it. I'm gonna be late. Now, how 'bout being that best friend, and zipping me up?” Tiana: “Mm.”

Morgana's Hovel. Recent Past. (While Anastasia is searching for Will, Morgana keeps herself busy with her hostage. Having raised Drizella from the pit, Morgana decides to have a little chat.) Morgana: "How does it feel to be constantly overlooked? To live in the shadow of your sister even when she lay dead in her casket for decades?" Drizella: (Sitting on the edge of the pit rubbing her head:) "I got over my feelings of inadequacy a long time ago. (Looks up at her:) Why can't you?" Morgana: "I stand in no one's shadow." Drizella: "Sure, now that Morgause is gone, you're free to be the crazy bitch of your family." Morgana: "Funny girl." Drizella: "Yeah well when one sister gets the looks and the magical talent, the other tends to rely on sarcasm and street smarts." Morgana: "Don't test me, Drizella. I'm starting to lose my patience." Drizella: "What do you want from me? You kept me at the bottom of a pit all night." Morgana: "While your sister is running an errand for me, I thought I might pick your brain awhile. This is your chance to prove to me that you aren't completely useless." Drizella: "And I so live for your approval." Morgana: (Ignoring this:) "You overheard Agravaine and I talking before so you know what I want. What do you know about the one they call Merlin?" Drizella: (Scoffs:) "You're kidding, right? Everyone knows about Merlin." Morgana: "Enlighten me." Drizella: "What's in it for me?" Morgana: "What would you like?" Drizella: (Scoffs:) "For you to let me go." Morgana: "Other than that." Drizella: (Looks behind her:) "I tell you all I know, and you keep me out of that pit. Deal?" Morgana: "It can't hurt your chances. Now talk."

Drizella: (Takes a breath:) "Merlin is considered the father of magic. People sometimes refer to him as the Sorcerer. Back when Emma was the Dark One, she and her family went to Camelot to seek Merlin's help. Only trouble is, he was inside a tree." Morgana: "A tree?" Drizella: "Yeah, Arthur was pretty tight with him. Didn't he ever tell you about Merlin?" Morgana: "My brother poisoned me and stole my crown. We weren't what you would call ‘close’." Drizella: "Right. Well somehow Emma and Regina found a way to free Merlin." Morgana: "How?" Drizella: "I don't know. Something to do with one of Henry's tears. If you want specific details, it's all in the Storybook." Morgana: "I see. So where is Merlin now?" Drizella: "He got on the wrong side of Emma and she returned him to his tree form. He's pretty hard to miss." Morgana: "Merlin is inside a tree?" Drizella: "Technically he is the tree, but yeah. I'm surprised you don't know all this already." Morgana: "Well now I do, and thanks to you, I know exactly what task I'm going to give Will Scarlett upon his arrival." Drizella: "I told you what you wanted to know. What about our deal?" Morgana: "Oh yes, our deal. (Morgana reaches out and pushes Drizella backwards into the pit. Looking down as she lands with a thud:) I said it couldn't hurt your chances." (Morgana smiles and walks away.) Storybrooke. Present. Main Street. (Running through the town with their weapons drawn, Xena and Gabrielle are prepared for the Red Queen's next attack.) Xena: "All right, Queenie. We know you're out there. Show yourself!" Red Queen: (Appearing behind them:) "I'm right here, darling." (As soon as Xena turns to face her, the Red Queen gives a casual wave of her hand and sends Xena flying through the air to crash through a car's windscreen.) Doc: (Slamming on the brakes:) "My Miata!" Red Queen: "Oops."

(Gabrielle stands poised with her sais in hand while several people run out of the diner to witness the commotion.) Gabrielle: “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but we will find a way to stop you.” Red Queen: “Oh, I’m sure you’ll try. (The Red Queen raises her hand again but turns at the sound of growling coming from behind her. With bared teeth, the wolf snarls at the Red Queen, ready to pounce:) Bad dog.” (The Red Queen knocks the wolf flying with a flick of her wrist. When the animal lands hard on the pavement, it transforms back into a dazed looking Ruby.) Lily: (Her weapon drawn:) “Hey! Sheriff’s department, stop!” Red Queen: (Chuckles:) “A gun? How adorable. (The Red Queen uses her magic to turn the gun into a banana:) There now, you look as though you needed something to eat, darling.” Lily: (Smirks, throwing the banana away:) “Neat trick. Wanna see mine?” (Lily’s eyes begin to glow as she starts her transformation.) Elsa: “Wait!” Red Queen: “Ah, if it isn’t the Queen of Arendelle. Well, Your Highness, a bit of advice from one Queen to another... keep your nose out of my business.” Elsa: “When you hurt my friends, you become my business.” (The Red Queen chuckles then throws a stream of fire towards Lily and Elsa. Lily ducks out of the way, but Elsa defends herself by shooting a flurry of ice and snow from her fingertips. While the crowd of onlookers grows in size, so does the strength of Elsa’s counter attack. Soon the Red Queen’s fire trail is overtaken and her arms begin to frost over.) Lily: “Keep going, Elsa. Freeze her!” Red Queen: (Struggling:) “You...can’t stop...me!” (Despite her protests, the Red Queen is frozen in place like a statue.) Elsa: (Breathing hard from the effort:) “That should let her cool off for awhile.” Lily: “Nice one.” Elsa: “Thanks.”

Dragon's House. Past. (After listening to Mulan and Emma's story, the Dragon tries to make sense of it all.) Dragon: "What you're telling me is not possible." Emma: "Trust me, this is my second journey into the past. It's very possible." Dragon: "That part I do believe. I was referring to your other statement. There is no way to travel to the Land Without Magic." Mulan: "But you found your way there before. Tell him, Emma." Emma: "It's true, I meet you in the future in the land where I was raised. There is very little magic in that land, aside from yours. Which is no doubt how you prosper so well there." Dragon: (Shakes his head:) "This is nonsense. Yes, I have dabbled in magic that seemed as though it may one day lead me to such a place, but my efforts were futile. Even with the Dark One's help, I could not manage it." Emma: "Rumplestiltskin. He helped you?" Dragon: "Yes, for a time we were a team. But when I could not achieve what he wanted, he had no further use for me." Mulan: "That's not right. I know for a fact you managed it somehow." (A young girl enters the room.) Young Girl: "Father?" Dragon: (Looking to the girl:) "What are you doing awake, child?" Young Girl: "I heard voices and was curious." Dragon: "Worry not, our business is almost concluded." Young Girl: (Looking to Mulan:) "Hello. My name is-" Dragon: (Snapping at her:) "Do not speak to these women, child! Now do as I say and go back to bed!" Young Girl: (Recoiling as if struck:) "Yes, Papa." (The young girl hurries from the room.) Mulan: (Rounding on the Dragon:) "You always were a short tempered old bastard." Emma: "Hey." Dragon: "How dare you? I will not be spoken to that way in my own house!" Mulan: "It's my house too! I know you made it to the Land Without Magic, because you left me here!" Dragon: "That's preposterous. What are you saying?" Mulan: (Pointing towards the other room, bitterly:) "I know that girl's name and I know the kind of life she's had up until this moment living with you. I was that girl. I am that girl." Dragon: "...Mulan?" Mulan: "Hello, Father."

Granny's Diner. Present. (As the only two people left in the diner due to the commotion outside, Henry and Will share a booth. After hearing Will’s confession, Henry's world has just been turned upside down.) Henry: "I don't believe it." Will: "Sorry mate, don't know what to tell ya. It just happened." Henry: "You and Ella?" Will: "I was as surprised as you. What with her being your fiancee and Tiana's best friend, I thought it was downright inappropriate." Henry: "What about you and Tiana? Didn't you try and stop things before-" Will: "Before they got out of hand? (Shakes his head:) Not the way I'm built, mate. If a gorgeous woman like Ella wants a piece of Will Scarlett, who am I to say no?" Henry: "But..." Will: "You can't blame her either. Ella's a vibrant, excitable girl who craves adventure. And I guess since you weren't able to provide that for her, I was all too happy to step in." Henry: "I should kill you right now." Will: (Considers:) "You could. God knows many a man has tried. But it doesn't change the fact that Ella was all too happy for me to fill your shoes. (Leans closer:) She told me as much while we were knocking boots. (Having heard enough, Henry takes a swing at Will, who deftly avoids it. Pulling Henry's jacket off his shoulders and trapping his arms in the sleeves, Will picks up a napkin from the table and wipes Henry's face with it:) Dry your eyes, mate. There's plenty more women out there." (Will shoves Henry forward into the booth and then runs for the door, making his escape through the crowd.) Swan-Mills House. (Archie and Regina sit down for coffee.) Archie: "Ruby told me you two spoke recently." Regina: (Nods:) "We did. And it wasn't half as bad as I was imagining." Archie: "You're both going through the same trauma right now. The loss of a partner, no matter how temporary, can be a harrowing experience. I'm glad you two managed to share your feelings." Regina: "Speaking of feelings, has Zelena booked an appointment with you yet?" Archie: "Actually, yes. I believe we have plans to speak tomorrow." Regina: "Good. Her loss is of a more permanent nature. (Thinks:) Although, we are talking about Robin Hood here, so you never can tell."

(At the sound of loud banging, Archie and Regina's attention turns to the front door when Ruby bursts through it looking frazzled.) Regina: "Make yourself at home why don't you?" Ruby: "Regina, you have to help us! Anastasia's gone nuts and Will and Henry got into a fight." Regina: "They what? (Looks to Maria:) Well I can't just leave, I have to put Maria to bed." Archie: "I-I can do that if you like? I have a little experience with babies." Regina: "Thank you, Archie. But no, Maria stays with me. (To Maria in a playful voice:) It seems the town needs us again, are we going to help them? Are we? (Maria gurgles:) You heard my daughter, let's go." The Dragon's Lair. (Laying low after his earlier actions, Will watches from his seat at the bar to see Ella arrive for her date with Henry. As the night progresses and Will's bar tab increases, Ella continues to wait for Henry while helping herself to bread sticks.) Later That Night. (With the restaurant emptying and Will unable to watch any longer, he stumbles off his seat and tries to leave without being noticed by Ella. Having witnessed his behaviour all night, Robin watches Will's movements closely as he attempts to duck out on his bill.) Robin: (Calling out:) “Hey, Will, pay your tab!” Will: (Shrugs:) “Sorry, I’ll catch ya next time.” (Turning, Will bumps into a waiter just as he was about to place another bowl of bread sticks on Ella’s table.) Ella: “Thank you.” Will: (Knocks the waiter:) “Oh! Oh, my God. Are you all right, mate?” (Unfortunately for Ella, this causes the waiter to spill wine all over her.) Ella: “Damnit. Really?” Will: (Tries to hurriedly help the waiter:) “There you go. Take your glass there, mate.” Ella: (Noticing him for the first time:) “Will?” Will: “All right, Ella. Small world innit? Can’t stay, must dash.” (Will stands up and runs unsteadily out of the place.) Robin: (Throwing her dish towel down:) “You can run, but you can’t hide.” (Robin picks up her phone and begins to dial.)

Dragon's House. Past. Continued. (Rocked by the revelation that Mulan is the Dragon's long lost daughter, Emma tries to mend fences.) Emma: "So... this is quite the family reunion huh?" Dragon: "You're a warrior? How can this be?" Mulan: "You didn't leave me much choice when you abandoned me. My options were slave or wife, which here is just an acceptable word for slave. So I disguised myself as a man and enlisted in the army. There I defeated the Huns and the Emperor honoured me with his crest and the sword of Shan Yu. I did all of that without you and now when I come to you for help, you're not there for me yet again." Dragon: "My daughter... (He attempts to close the distance between them, but Mulan takes a step backwards:) If I knew how to get to the Land Without Magic, I would tell you, but the truth is I do not." Apprentice: "Perhaps I can be of some assistance?" (Everyone turns to face the man who has just appeared through a familiar door.) Emma: "You? But how... Wait, I don't care how. You can get us home?" Apprentice: "In theory, yes. Although we will need to make a few stops along the way." Emma: (Readily:) "Anything you say. (To Mulan:) This is it!" Apprentice: (Offers his hand:) "Shall we?" (Emma walks to the door and waits for Mulan. Mulan smiles then turns to her father.) Mulan: "What are you doing? You have to come with us." Dragon: "No. I cannot leave my daughter." Mulan: (Looking to Emma and the Apprentice:) "Could you give us a minute?" Apprentice: "Of course. We'll leave the door open for you." (The Apprentice motions for Emma to lead the way. Taking a steadying breath, Emma straightens her jacket and then walks through the door into the darkness beyond. With one last nod to Mulan, the Apprentice also leaves the room.) Mulan: (Turns to her father:) "Everything that I am, everything that I became happened because of this moment. (Points to the bedroom door:) For her sake and mine, I am asking you... no I am begging you to do this for me. Please, Father. I have a life back home. Someone I love. You can't take that away from me." (Mulan holds out her hand to her father, her eyes pleading with him. Glancing back at the bedroom door, the Dragon is faced with an impossible decision.)

[ticklikeabomb]

One-shot : Interview with the Avengers

Pairing : Avengers x Plus Size Fem Reader

Warnings : language, innuendos, dirty jokes

Word Count : 2.2k

A/N : Here we go for another clumsy reader story :)

Today was the day. It was either a win or a complete disaster. You worked for S.H.I.E.L.D as an operative but quickly proved your marks at being one of the best Agents of the agency. You didn't have much friends at work except for Sharon Carter also known as Agent 13. You both hit it off probably because she was always around to have your back. Not when facing a specific danger but because you were a hell of a mess, clumsy. Just like the greek god Epimetheus you had the tendency to do or say things before thinking about them and it was bad. One day, finishing later that night, you walked by Nick Fury's office and saw him play with an orange cat. Without thinking you mumbled "Oh so Nick Fury likes pussies" and of course having his open ajar he heard you. Mortified you ran as fast as you could back home, hoping not getting fired. The following day he kept eyeing you while you would make yourself as tiny as you could. 

"Agent Y/L/N ! ", he called, making you jump on your  and cover your clothes with warm coffee. "Fucking sh-", you whisper yelled while cleaning the spot on your blouse. "Now Miss Y/L/N !", he called back and motioned you to his office. He went behind his desk about to take a sit when he saw the coffee spot on your blouse and gave you a hard look. "Small incident Sir, I will handle it as soon as we're over." "Good." He began explaining your work parkour and felt your hands tremble, thinking he would fire you. "That's why I scheduled a meeting with the Avengers. They will interview you and see if you're a fit to the team", he finished. You looked at him with a numb, frozen kind of way and he cleared his throat and you finally reacted. "I'm sorry I lost you at 'but you'. I'm pained that my work doesn't prouve being efficient but I can understand if you would like to fire me, I mean it's a life or death kinda job, so." 

"Wait. I never said I would fire you at the contrary, you are expected at the Avengers compound where they will interview you and see if you'll join their team." You blinked a couple of times after hearing what he just said cracked up laughing. You laughed loudly to the point of having tears form in your eyes but quickly calmed yourself seeing his hard and firm expression. "Oh you're not kidding", you whispered. "Do I look like the type of person who jokes around?" 

"I don't know, no one is immune to laughter and besides after seeing you all fluffy with that cat the other night", you saw his eye widened and quickly rambled. " - I mean, ehm, hhhkrrm, I no cat, eh, yeah hey you got a new jacket looks sleek? Is it real leather because if it is that's animal cruelty. Not that you would tolerate that kind of behavior. Please can you just kill me right now and make it stop?" "Agent Y/L/N for someone who has the ability to speak all languages existent in the universe you surely are not good with words and communication." You smiled shyly and responded, "Yeah I know irony right." "Anyway, next Tuesday 2 pm at the Avengers compound. Don't be late." "Yes of course, I will be there and give it my best without verbally escalating." He sighed before dismissing you. 

"Yo Steve wait up", called Sam out of breath. Steve chuckled and turned around seeing Sam struggle. "And you have the nerve to call me old man hein", commented Steve with a smug smile. They were reaching the compounds entry when they spotted a magnificent plus size woman waiting sitting at one of the sofas. She was attentively eying a man across the shipping section and they saw her stand up. "Je ne ferrai pas ça si j'étais toi" (I wouldn't do that if I were you), she told the man. "Je ne vois pas de quoi vous parlez?" (I don't know what you're talking about), he replied. "Corriges moi si je me trompes mais tu étais sur le point de voler ce prototype du bouclier de Captain America et le truc c'est que s'il t'attrapes, il te bottera tellement fort le cul que t'aura des hémorroides précoce. Tu peux compter sur moi pour ne pas me mettre en travers son chemin." (Correct me if I'm wrong but you were about to steal one of Captain America's shield prototype and the thing is that if he catches you, he will kick your ass so hard you will get early hemorrhoids. You could count on me to not stop him from doing so.) "De quoi je me mèle, occupe toi de ton gros cul salope" (Mind your own damn fat ass, bitch), he said. You sighted and before Steve could intervene, you punched the guy effortlessly. "Awnn désolé ma main a glissée" (Awnn sorry my hand slipped). The two Avengers looked at you in awe go back to your sit, a wide smirk plastered on their faces. The guy in question was standing up and crashed against Steve's hard chest. When he looked up, the Captain gave him a furious look before handing him over to a security guard. "Come on Steve we'll be late for the meeting", commented Sam. 

"Agent Y/L/N, they're ready to receive you", said the receptionist and indicated you the floor to stop on. In the elevator you went over the basics : "Ok think before speaking. Don't say anything inappropriate. Stay focus, try to impress them while being humble and for fucks sake don't say anything stupid." Just as you finished, the doors opened and you marched to the meeting room. Nick Fury saw you outside and indicated you to enter. You did as such, straightening your clothes and posture and greeted everyone after Fury's brief introduction. "Hello I'm Agent Y/L/N but you can call me Y/N, which is totally irrelevant since I was already introduced", you giggled nervously and mentally cursed yourself. You took place and let out a shaky breath before smiling at them. You saw Sam and Steve mumble something between them but didn't payed further attention. "So Y/N, your file and missions are quiet impressive. Care to tell us a little about some of them. Your favorite mission? The troubles you faced and yadda yadda yadda", exclaimed Tony shaking his hands. 

"Sure can. I don't know if I deserve what seemed to be that credit you just subtly gave me. The missions are more of a team work really, I just follow the lead and try to do my best giving the situation at hand", you patted yourself for such a professional answer. He shook his head before declaring, "So you're boring." Your eyes widened, "Excuse me?" "Tony !", remarked Steve though greeted teeth. The billionaire dismissed the Captains stare and smirk at you. "I said you seem like the boring type of person and we don't think that would mix well with the team’s dynamic." You laughed and declared, "Oh if there's a word that doesn't describe me is boring. In fact I'm pretty sure the boring one in this audience must be you, you know speaking about maths and engineering and what not all the time. Do people actually understand you in a regular basis?" Your answer picked his curiosity and made the others chuckle. "Agent Y/L/N", called you out Fury. You noticed how inappropriate your words sounded and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry that was way out of line." "Don't apologize dear I'm curious. Tell me about your youth. Do you have any specific talent?." 

You cleared your throat and began to explain what was your youth like. "Pretty basic : parents never home, always working, deeply proud of the prodigy son who followed their traces and that's pretty it. Concerning talents, my greatest talent is making people laugh without my consent by constantly embarrassing myself. "

Your answer made some of them laugh. "What about high school?", asked  Natasha. "The language classes were always my favorite, not good in math, sports not really my cup of tea but I did like some sports. Football and by football I mean what you call soccer because that's (football) the sports real name ! And I was pretty good at handjob…HANDBALL, I mean HANDBALL !!!!", you panicky tried to rectify yourself. You closed your eyes in embarrassment while the room filled with laughter. You giggled nervously and said, "See talent, I'm just the best in that." 

"I take back my boring comment, you convinced me", chuckled Tony. They kept interrogating you and you slayed the answers, somehow. "what about movies?", asked Sam. You frowned not really sure why that would matter but answered anyway. "My favorite movie is (Y/F/M). I love it beyond everything. There are still some classics that I have to watch, other that I started and never really finished, like for example Monty Python and the Gloryhole." Members of the team cracked up and you looked at them confused, just as confused as Steve, Bucky, Wanda, Vision and Thor. "I didn't know Monty Python and the Holy Grail had so much impact", you mumbled. And that made them lose it even more. "Oh dear, probably because you said Monty Python and the Gloryhole", explained Pepper. "I didn't say that did I?", You looked at them horrified and they nodded. "What's a Gloryhole?", asked Bucky perplexed. You cleared your throat and replied, "Ehm it's something, ehm how should I formulate this the most neutral way. Basically a hole in a bathroom, generally at clubs or bars where…good God someone help please", you begged. "It's a hole where guys sticks their dicks out to get it sucked by the person on the other side of the wall", stated Sam. You blinked a few times, warmth burning your body and nodded, slightly amused at the super soldiers disgusted faces. "Why would anyone do that???", exclaimed Steve. "People let me remind you the purpose of this interview which as I was expecting escalated real quickly", he said and his gaze landed at you. "I thought it was a good idea for Agent Y/L/N to join the team even if I let out one of the most vital aspects of her personality which is being really clumsy in the communication department all the time. Considering this aspect I'm afraid I was wrong and Agent Y/L/N will continue working as an operative at S.H.I.E.L.D." 

'Fuck', you thought. Sure you were sometimes a mess but you were really looking forwards for that chance. You stood up and looked at them. "I'm sorry I wasted your precious time. Director Fury, I will see you tomorrow at the office. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go now and wish you all a good day." With that you left the room, shame and embarrassment written all over your features. After you left, with a smug smile  Fury turned towards the team and asked "What do you think?" "Oh I like her", stated Tony with big eyes. "She is quite entertaining", shouted Thor. "She can punch a guy", commented Sam and asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to show them what happened at the hall. "Another thing I forgot to mention and that isn't stated in her file, she understands and speaks all the languages known in the universe, which would provide a real advantage during missions", told Nick. "She's by far the best candidate we had the opportunity to see today", added Vision. "I agree", the others commented. "It's settled then", said Fury and stood up. "Oh and please no more stories about Gloryholes", he said before leaving the room laughing. 

The next day the Director called you at his office. "Y/N you're fired" "Oh that was …fast and direct", you replied. "Pack your things as soon as possible, Stark's chauffeur will wait for you at your appartement." You nodded and let your head down before his words hit you. "Wait why would Tony Stark's chauffeur wait for me?" "Because you're the team's new member. Welcome to the Avengers, Epimetheus", he declared. "Wait for real?", your eyes shone brightly and you jump on his arms happily. "Thank you Sir, I will not let you down." "I would appreciate you would right now", he commented and you gasped. "Oh sorry didn't mean to you know." "Yeah yeah I know. Oh and for the record Agent Y/L/N, I do love some pussy." You sighed and blinked your eyes in a mix of confusion and humor. "O-k-ay, I didn't really need to know that but ok. I'm gonna go cause you know, Imma bout to join the real game so bye homie. I mean Sir. Goodby Sir." "Just go before I change my mind", he stated and you laughed. When you were out, he shook his head and let out a chuckle. "These Millenials are crazy Motherfuckers." 

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221  @robertconradjr @francezka10  @titty-teetee @breezy1415 @lunarprincess3977 @thelostallycat @introvertedsin

[gatheringroses]

I highly doubt that anyone that sees this post will even know what the hell is going on with my life, or care, but I’m not writing this for sympathy. I’m writing it for my sanity. Long ago ( or maybe not so depending on how one looks at it ) I wrote for pleasure, I write to process things, it was my therapy if you will. If you’d like to skip over this, I won’t hold it against you.

I, am many things.  Daughter, care giver, friend, aunt, godmother. You know all of those hokey cliches that we attach to women that have fallen into the care giver role. Lost both of my parents at the start of 2020, being thrown for a loop and trying to process it. I ended up selling what little I owned and am still trying to sell off the property to the place I called home . Ended up setting up house with a cousin who, as some may know, has been...interesting to say the least. At first I thought she was just overly sensitive to the world and it’s workings. I’ve learned now that she’s a leech and passive aggressively manipulative. She’s blown through various family members and has no idea how to stand on her own two feet. She expects others to just simply take care of her while she floats through the world because she’s “too sick to do anything.” I’ve tried being understanding. I’ve tried just about damn near everything short of packing my shit and leaving her to rot  ( believe me there are days when just running from her and her ever changing mood fluctuations sounds like heaven. ) The 911 calls, the special diets, doctor’s appointments, midnight car rides with the hammer down to get to her because she’s two hours away at a friend’s house and all but projectile vomiting because she ‘ate something that didn’t agree with her.’ even more doctor’s appoints and vouching for her that she’s ill. I think that’s the sticking point. She made me a pawn in her game to get exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t give two shits that I care. That I lose sleep routinely getting up and checking to see if she’s still breathing. That I work myself into knots doing jobs that cause my hands to chap, my back to ache or for me to come home with a ringing in my ears and clothes that smell like booze. She doesn’t know how hard to a God, that I sincerely think has forgotten that I exist or has simply turned his back to me, that she’d pull through this last time she had a seizure before my very eyes again. I’m strictly a shower person now. I can’t take the sound of sloshing water or the scent of overly scented bubble bath. 

I grew up in a household where Mom didn’t have a maternal bone in her body and Dad was too afraid of not seeing me again to *do* something, like, oh I dunno divorce her. But I digress, perhaps I put too much emphasis on family as I did not have the traditional home life one would expect. Knock down drag out fights where you see your mother chuck an enamel roasting pan on Thanksgiving at your father’s head because he said the meal was ‘good’ instead of excellent kind of colors your world in the wrong way. So does hearing your mother constantly bad mouth not only you but your father isn’t great either. Being belittled in front of friends was a regular occurrence until I stopped having people over.  I was brought up in a household where I was wanted by only one parent and virtually hated for being alive by the other. “I don’t want to even look at you.’ and ‘Hey, stupid what’re you flinching for?’ were favorite sayings.  So, yeah, that childhood partnered with very firm handling in the physical punishment department I learned to make myself useful, because ‘if you’re useful they can’t get mad at you.’  Partner all of that with the shock of losing both parents in one fell swoop ( a total of 56 days. )  grief came at me harder than I’d ever expected it to. ( I don’t care what anyone says, you can still grieve a parent even if you hated them or they hated you. You mourn what you could have had not the what was. )has created a sort of a hellish mix of fuck knows what in me.  My once type A personality and fear of the unknown has been flipped. I’m very very slowly rebuilding myself one brick at a time. 

  I mean I’ve always thought I never quite belonged anywhere, maybe it’s just my personality or the fact that home was fucked up, I don’t know. I’m currently working two jobs and have a third for seasonal work lined up. I put my entire life on hold to care for my parents, did I have to? No. I had a strong sense of duty to do it. Why? Not one damn clue. Maybe I thought if I showed my mother just how devoted I was to her she’d somehow finally love me. It didn’t happen. Pretty damn sad isn’t it?   I essentially painted myself into a corner the first time I’m going to be damned if it’s going to happen a second. I deserve to go out and live. I deserve to experience what this world has to offer, fall in love again, live a life with no regrets. I’m not doing that stagnating here caring for someone who, quite frankly has used me right out of the gate. Pretty words and compliments drip from a liar’s tongue like honey from a hive. I’ve come to hate the taste of honey these days. I deserve to be high on life and drunk on the strange brew of new experiences. I would give everything I’ve got ( at this point it isn’t much but it’s all I’ve got ) to set up a more stable base for myself and not have to worry about coming home from work and finding my cousin dead. Her sisters have made their peace with it, I, for some ungodly reason haven’t. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to not have anyone give a damn about you when you’re down? Maybe I’m just a soft touch. But that softness is hardening. A bitterness is sinking into me. Girl has a pain pill problem along with a slew of mental issues on top of an eating disorder. I’ve taken to locking up my medical marijuana and Xanax just in case.  I’ve also taken to busying myself with anything so I don’t have to talk to her. If I do I’m going to blow up and there won’t be anything left of her. I don’t want to be an angry person or a bitter one or worse yet a hellish mixture of both. How can I love someone and hate them all at the same time? Am I remembering the ‘hate the sin but love the sinner?’ mindset from when I attended church? Or am I just slowly becoming numb? I truly know what it’s like to be hated and I wouldn’t wish that on a single soul.  

Are you at the point where you’re scratching your head and  going ‘why the hell am I reading this crazy bitch’s blog?’ or ‘why am I reading this?’ or ‘Please tell me she’s in therapy.’  I’d like to say. I’ve no idea, you were bored? I haven’t got a clue, why am I writing it? Yes, yes I am in therapy. It’s helping but I’ve got a few decades of damage to try and undo.  I do, however have a wonderful support system a few assorted family members, old friends and some new ( you know who you are. If you’ve read this mention roses the next time we have a chat. ;) ) that have been more than kind and generous with their time and advice. I do realize my life has hit a low point. But it can’t always rain. My faith is unwavering and my well of hope is endless. I’ve got to keep going and moving forward without regret. 

[fuck-customers]

Big Bird Deli, Part 3

Continued from https://fuck-customers.tumblr.com/post/185625162330/continuation-of-the-big-bird-deli-story-found

Now, I know you all want me to say I got a new job and rubbed it in my store manager’s face. Sadly, reality is often disappointing. My top choices so far sent back general rejection emails and I’m looking into different industries to branch into. Now, it's not all bad news, but in order to get into the good news, I need to tell you all a story about one co-worker; our constant call off, whom I’ll refer to as CCO. Buckle up for a long story.

CCO was transferred to our store from the one about five minutes down the road a little under three years ago now. I was still in my first year when she transferred in. As I worked with her, she seemed like a good co-worker. Knowledgeable, dependable, she even taught a bunch of tricks to make the job easier. Then, some things started to bubble to the surface.

At first, the only bad thing about her is that she took a long time in the bathroom, 10-15 minutes, pretty much a break without clocking out for one. CCO’s explanation for this was biological, but she couldn’t identify her condition. Skeptical, but ok. Then, she’d also take a long time to get a drink (Non-alcoholic). Managers caught sipping a drink in the break room, and even the training room (Small room with computers for basic training/OSHA/Food Safety) and told her multiple times, she could only do that on breaks. She’d also do stuff that led to numerous signs in our back hall. She’d try store dry food there, take drinks back there, and she’d be on her cell phone on her shift way too much (Mostly showing her cats, making notes, not talking or playing games).

Then, she began to talk constantly. She’d talk with customers even after their orders were done. I constantly saw customers get that “I need to get going but I don’t see my chance to leave yet” expression, and she’d keep blabbering on for a few more minutes as the customer slowly tried to inch away. But it wasn’t just customers, CCO would do the same to co-workers. She’d blabber on while doing nothing or only very small tasks. Sometimes her conversations sucked you in, even though the topics were things from youth, church, or constant updates about her cats (she and husband got up to FIVE cats, and yes, introductions to them included pictures.) I had the highest tolerance for these stories, not sure why.

Now, I can handle those things above. But it got worse. So. Much. Worse. After our store got remodeled just before CCO came in, tasks were updated to include not only sweeping the department floor every night but also washing and squeegeeing the floor. CCO made excuses so she wouldn’t be the one doing it. She’d do anything she could to pass it off on that night’s co-worker. She made excuses that it hurt her back, but refused time and time again to get a doctor’s note to excuse her from the task. She also made excuses that it was tiring, but she stopped those excuses after only a couple weeks. This, coupled with many closers forgetting some tasks, provoked our Deli Manager to make daily task sheets starting this past summer, mostly focused on the closing staff. I, personally, am ok with the sheets, as I view it as a tool to acclimate new employees to the department tasks.

But here’s the big one. She ‘began’ to get migraines within six months of her transfer. She’d slow and become less useful during work, taking long treks to get water and basic medicine that seemed to do the trick at first. The kicker is that she began to call off once every two weeks. Now, you may think that’s not so bad and it’ll count against her. Wrong. She applied for FMLA (Family and Medical Leave Act) for her migraines. She could spend a TON of hours towards it, and she could reapply when she ran out. I started out sympathetic, as I have family members with migraines, but they have methods to curb it so they can work. CCO started calling off once a week. Twice a week. This year, it went up to three times a week. And it was almost always on the same co-worker, Nice Coworker (NC). NC became stressed, she didn’t even want to be scheduled with CCO because of it, but sometimes had no choice. I saw NC break down in tears multiple times. She threatened management to not call her if CCO called off on Sundays, cuz she wouldn’t come in at all. Our deli manager retaliated by trying to schedule CCO less. CCO retaliated by complaining about her hours and claiming hours of other co-workers due to seniority!!! She’d just take their shifts and call-off anyway! So not only was she causing hours to drop, she was basically stealing money from people who actually show up for work.

This all caused morale and productivity to plummet. We were stressed, aggravated even. All the while management still wanted everything perfect while not addressing the problem. And since we’re union, management has to give CCO chance after chance before she’s finally fired or CCO will just run and cry to the union about ‘unfair termination’. We also got wind from people in the store down the street (Sometimes people over here have to cover over there and vice versa) that this behavior happened down there, but not to the extent it got down here, and was the reason CCO transferred. We also learned that she’s had this behavior at all the past jobs she told anyone about. This woman is ten years older than me and hasn’t learned any lessons about her behavior.

Oh, but the cherry on top of this comes in the form of gaslighting and manipulation. CCO dared to call NC her friend while she was claiming NC’s hours and calling off on her! CCO would apologize and say that she “was a shitty person,” and that we “must hate her”. Insincere apologies, self-bashing designed to make you say “No, you’re not a piece of garbage!”(even though she was). CCO also spread rumors about a friend who’s like a brother to me (from another department) when he briefly got in deep trouble. She did this because she thought she could get his full-time position once he was fired (A position that took him being there 12 years and his manager begging multiple times on his behalf to get). Needless to say, I heard through the grapevine and began to truly hate her.

Oh, and remember those call-offs? CCO’d often do those on the weekend, y’know, the busy times. Especially Sundays. Since she was a “Good Christian™”, she’d want to go to church on Sundays. Ok. Reasonable. Then, she called off on Sunday evenings, a shift that’s hell to close alone. Again, on NC mostly. She’d do this repeatedly until our Deli Manager decided to not schedule her on Sunday, two weeks in a row. CCO smirked and told NC that “Her plan had worked!” and that she won’t work Sundays (She didn’t put them off on her availability because it was discouraged, and sometimes even rejected, to not work weekends). To say that, and say that to the person she called off on constantly, is just despicable. Many of us told our deli manager as soon as possible. If she didn’t schedule CCO on Sundays, she’d work on Sundays in any department she had experience in (she’s cross-trained in the Hot foods and meat departments).

At the start of this year. Everyone in the department hated her. Some would be catty or strictly business with her. I opted to pretend to not want to rip her face off, otherwise, I risked forwarding that bile to customers, and I have cried on CCO’s shoulder in the past due to previous work-related bullshit (not the story above). But, we finally had some news from the grapevine; CCO’s doctor AND corporate had picked up on her FMLA abuse. It was flagged as abuse because during times her FMLA expired and needed to be redone her migraines had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared. No call-offs until after FMLA was reinstated. Her doctor told her that he wouldn’t approve more and even if he did, it wouldn’t be approved by the company. By our calculations, she’d run out at the end of May. She ran out mid-May. All we had to do was wait.

And this past week, the good news! Turns out CCO didn’t help NC much the Saturday of my paid vacation. NC went to Store Manager on Wednesday, on her day off, to report CCO. Store Manager told NC that CCO, and potentially all of the deli, was going to get pulled into the office soon one by one. Details couldn’t be said due to confidentiality but NC said that shit was about to go down, we all just didn’t know what. On Friday, now mid-June, our Union Steward (A worker to represents the union while not working for the union directly) came and got CCO and pulled her into the office with Store Manager. Ten minutes later, CCO was escorted out of the store by Loss Prevention. The scales finally tipped when the customer complaints stacked up, and that she got into a verbal argument with a co-worker (Not me or NC) with a manager as a witness. Said co-worker was at the store on her day off, shopping and chatting with us briefly. While CCO passed by, CCO called her a bitch, in earshot of Loss Prevention. But that was the last we’ve seen of CCO.

Slight dancing was had, and upper management reminded us that this is an opportunity to turn the deli around. We got a new person who started during my vacation. She’s absolutely amazing and gets along with everyone. It’s only been a few days, but already other departments are commenting that the deli seems happier and that a great weight has been lifted. I always joked about giving CCO this big speech in a dark, even tone and saying she needs to go on disability or welfare if her work ethic or migraines are that bad. But, I decided against doing a big Facebook drama thing. Instead, I blocked her on social media and her phone number. I’m glad to finally cut her out of my life permanently.

As for me? I’m still at Big Bird. Now that the main problem is gone, I can take my time finding a good job and not go for the first one that gives me an interview. I still want to leave because of upper management, and I haven’t received confirmation that my write up was overturned. Things are looking up, and I’m glad we now have a solid, competent team as we get ready for the 4th of July sales.

Last word: I was going to post this as is, but today, I heard something amazing. A co-worker had to work a split shift, beginning down the road then coming up to our store. Turns out, CCO didn’t tell her husband that she got fired! She told him she was on vacation! And he works down the street! I busted up laughing, imagining scenarios when he finds out she lied. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that confrontation. :3

TL;DR

Not much has happened other than a co-worker getting fired and absolutely deserving it after putting the deli under so much stress.

[blakexmd]

Character: ― Nathaniel ‘Nate’ Blake Faceclaim: ― Casey Deidrick Age/Pronouns: ― 32 | he/him Occupation:  ― backstreet doctor, car thief/mechanic (he uh... steals cars for you and customizes them? but also likes just tinkering tbh)  Hometown/District: ― born in Chicago / lives in Red Line District, Houston 

HEADCANONS

Drives an old-timer, and not just any old-timer but a raven black ‘69 Boss 428 Mustang. That thing was expensive as hell and really hard to find, but Nate wanted it in a good condition and takes care of that thing like his life depends on it. Sure he’ll push it to its limits, but otherwise he takes better care of that stupid car than himself. That car is his guilty pleasure, most of the time though he’s on his motorcycle - he’ll say it’s more practical, but really it’s all about the adrenaline and constantly putting himself in near death situations. 

He loves street racing, the more illegal the better. Whatever project he’s currently working on for himself is probably being prepared and perfect for the next race. It’s probably going to send him to an early grave (if the myriad of other issues doesn’t do it sooner), but he can’t shake the addiction he has for the feeling of the steering wheel and the gearshift under his fingers. 

Has a thing for collecting stray animals. It started when he was a kid, his mother had allowed it and taught him how to take care of them if they were wounded, and he just never grew out of it. There’s two dogs and a raven that have taken up permanent residency in his house, but there are other animals that sort of come and go as they please and come when they need food, shelter or help. 

Has a tattoo that covers his back, an intricate drawing of thorns and roses and a raven mid-flight. It’s sort of a project that spanned almost a decade and he would get it done little by little, working on the drawing before taking it to the tattoo parlor. There are many, many details within it, each with its own meaning that only makes sense to Nate, an homage to people in his life and his past. Also there’s a snake tattooed on his chest that he got back in school, as well as a myriad of small tattoos scattered across his skin - his mother’s handwriting, dates of death for his fallen comrades etc. 

His most noticeable scar is the burn mark on his stomach, vaguely shaped like whatever piece of metal he’d been burnt with during an interrogation, but he doesn’t mind it all that much. What he does mind are the million silvery scars from the IED that killed Liam - he hates thinking about those. 

His knuckles are always beat up, to some degree. He loves fighting in various fight-clubs throughout the city, just for the sake of another hit of adrenaline, and because it makes him feel somewhat alive. So it’s not really a surprise to see him beaten and bruised, it’s more of a surprise when he’s in one piece... When he’s not doing that, he’s probably taking his frustrations out on an old, worn-out punching bag he’s had since forever, or jogging around the city at strange hours of the night. 

He’s got a myriad of vices - alcohol, fighting, cigarettes, an occasional hit of drugs. It’s his attempt to fill some hole in himself that’s been left gaping open ever since his father died. It’s a temporary fix, but he’s the type of person to live his life day in and day out anyway. 

He’s got an old silver zippo with engravings from the army such as “As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for I am the evilest son of a bitch." and dates and initials of his fallen comrades. He loves that beat up piece of trash though, and you’ll never see him without it. 

Prefers knives to guns, but he knows it’s stupid to bring a knife to a gunfight so he’s learned how to handle those too. Though he’s not actively involved with any side, he’s always got weapons on him - just in case. It comes with the territory of being involved with the murkier side of the population. 

He loves music - it’s his outlet. You can sometimes see him jotting down notes on a napkin when he’s sitting in a diner at 4AM - it calms him to write these things down, helps get the music out of his head. When he can’t sleep, he’ll play his Stratocaster until he’s able to pass out, even if just for a few hours. 

He’s all dark leather and worn military boots and silver rings and a smell of cigarettes and gasoline and trouble. That’s pretty much his MO. I feel like when someone sees him, you could show them his diploma and they wouldn’t believe you this guy’s a doc that’s worked as a corpsman for the army for years. 

Probably the weirdest quirk of his, is his penchant for faith. His mother was religious, and she sort of instilled that in him at a young age. He must have lost his faith a thousand times over the years, but he always ends up coming back. No doubt in his mind God doesn’t want anything to do with his messed-up ass, but he likes this concept that there’s something out there, even if it’s not for him. Then at least for the good people in his live that he loves. It sort of brings him peace, and if he can’t be found at his usual joints around town - he’s no doubt sitting in a dark, empty church, head bowed down, seeking solace. He’s never going to admit it though, unless you catch him in the act. 

His father is the only man he truly feared in his life, otherwise he’s just pretty much indifferent and is generally lacking in the self-preservation department... 

Every Wednesday and Saturday, like clockwork - he goes to visit his mother. He brings her flowers, takes her out in the gardens for a walk, sits besides her and reads her a chapter or two of whatever book they’re going through that month. She’s pretty much an empty shell of a woman she used to be, but holding her hand is the only comfort he feels these days. It’s still as warm and soft as he remembers it, and though it breaks his heart to see her like this, he’ll probably never give up hope that she’ll come back one day. And even if she doesn’t she’s still his mom. 

Also plants, his house is filled with those? Idk, he’s so bad at taking care of himself and is probably in a complete organ failure, but the plats and the animals - they’re thriving like he’s been studying vet medicine and botany all his life.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

The Brother - He’s one of the Reapers, and someone Nate cares about deeply, even if he’s rarely showing it. It’s a complicated relationship between these two, Nate envies him for leaving when he did, but he can never quite get rid of the feelings he has for his brother. It’s a sensation of bone-deep loyalty he can’t shake. I think it would be super interesting to explore this connection, and I’m intentionally leaving it vague so it can be discussed!

The Friend’s Wife - She’s the wife of his brother-in-arms and army best friend that died during an explosion. I think their relationship was shaky at first, considering Nate’s feelings for her husband - but Nate can see why Liam loved her so much. Nate once promised Liam that if anything ever happened to him, Nate would take care of her and the kid, and Nate’s never been one to break promises. That’s why he came back to Houston after he was honorably discharged, and why he took up odd jobs - to pay for the debts and to make sure those two had everything they needed. He’ll probably care for them until the day he dies, whether or not she likes it. He adores the kid though, revels at her innocence and the way she’s delighted at everything, she also represents the only memory he has of Liam.

The Ex-comrade - Someone Nate also considered a good friend, he’d trusted them enough to admit his darkest thoughts after Liam died. But though they promised to respect his decision not to be saved at the risk of others, they risked their life for him when it came down to that. Oddly enough, Nate resents them for it. He feels like it was a good way to go, and he should’ve been left behind when they had the chance. It’s a sick and twisted logic, but it’s hard reasoning with him. I would love to work on this dynamic, because this person has seen him at his worst, and they obviously care about him so I think it’s a good spot for growth for both of them.

The one he hates - This will sound ridiculous, but it’s someone he’s been involved with at some point in his life (leaving this flexible) They butted heads a lot, hated each other even, but I feel like they also got addicted to each other because at least it made Nate feel something, even if it was rage. They are far too similar for their own good, and they feed off each other’s troubles. It’s a bit selfish on both sides, and definitely unhealthy, but I’m super interested in exploring that because lbr Nate can’t make a good decision for the life of him. This could be either old or fresh I’m up for anything, and we can develop/discuss it further!! 

The Friends - Someone please put up with him? He can be funny, sometimes. In a dark, tragic sort of way. Like someone has to be there to explain to him breakfast isn’t cereals in a bowl of vodka. I mean he’ll probably sarcasm his way out of it, but at least someone tried…

The Exes - And by exes I mean hookups, or real exes who got sick of him being a mess, or they were too much of a mess together, or someone ill-informed tried to save this jackass from himself. Anything works honestly, it can be angsty or a tragicomedy, I’m there for it all, I want to hurt him real bad.

Also everything else, if you’ve got an idea or want to discuss any of the above, feel free to shoot me a message! I’m super duper excited about plotting with him and I’m always here to explain if anything up there was unclear, don’t be afraid to reach out!

THE STORY

He was born in Chicago, the son of a nurse and a father who played an integral part in the city’s criminal scene. From a young age he was thrust into the life his father led, nudged further into it by an older brother he’d always looked up to.

He wasn’t all his father though, even if he’d inherited his temper - as a kid he used to adore his mother, she represented this beacon of light and kindness for him that’s still there today. 

Since very young age he developed this duality when it comes to his identity - he would try to satisfy the wishes of both this mother and father, which would result in the man he is today. On one side, he wanted to follow his mother’s footsteps into med school and do some good in the world, and on the other side he was drawn to the seedy underbelly of the city that his father roamed. It was like an addiction he couldn’t quite shake no matter how hard he tried. 

His father would be beaten to death in front of Nate when he was just 15, and though he was used to seeing blood and death by now - this shook him to his core. Though he was messed up, Nate loved his father, and seeing him die in his arms broke something in the boy. 

It wasn’t made easier by his brother taking off to go to Houston, leaving Nate scrambling back in Chicago, trying to take care of his mother who was now withering away like a plucked flower, and trying to figure out how to survive. 

It was a pretty miserable existence - work low-paying jobs for the gang, go to school, take care of mom, rinse and repeat. It’s no wonder this was part of Nate’s life during which he developed his bad habits and a bitter attitude. It’s the only thing that made sense. 

He had a knack for survival though - earned better gigs eventually, got into med school, got better at whatever it was that the gang required of him (car theft, hits...), but he felt like he owed it to his mother to for once put what she had dreamed of for him in the first place, instead of what his father had wanted. 

He tried to clean up his act then - figured military might do it and after he had enough money to put his mom in a really good place - he enlisted. Worst decision of his life, or so he thinks anyway. 

Sure, it cleaned up his life, established order within it, but he’d never be the same after it. The things they had to live through, were much, even for him.

He made friends there though, fell in love - though it was unreciprocated. It was naive though, to think that he was done with heartbreak, in the midst of war of all places. An IED struck as both Liam and Nate were shuffling, trying to figure out how to stop whatever was happening without harming a child, and before Nate could think - Liam was already shielding him with his body. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the type of love Nate had hoped for, but Liam had loved him dearly nonetheless. 

They’d have to drag him away from Liam’s body after he’d been doing CPR for good 40 minutes, and it was a point at which he spun out of control once again. He would purposefully put himself in harm’s way, and had made it a point to make it clear to everyone that in case of trouble, he did not want to be saved. Not that anyone would listen to him. 

He’d come out of combat very much alive. Though pretty beat up after he ran into harm’s way in an attempt to save someone, and had been dragged from the bring of death by a comrade. At the end of the day he was left with wounds, empty medals and an honorable discharge that sent him to Houston to lick his wounds. 

Why Houston? His brother was there, and Liam’s wife too. Home wasn’t a city - it was people, he knew that much about life. It was far from ideal, but if Nate had anything left, then it was his honour, and he had a promise to keep. 

Some weeks before Liam’s death, as if somehow he knew - Liam had asked him to go to Houston if anything ever happened to him, make sure his wife and his kid were taken care of. And it wasn’t like Nate had anything of his own left, just this promise he’d made and whatever was left of his broken family. 

He’d work as a contract killer for a while - bad things were what he was good at, after all. And it paid well, well enough to help Liam’s wife pay off her debts and take care of the kid, and whatever was left Nate put to side - for what, he had no idea. Outside of that, his life pretty much spun out of control - he couldn’t stop dreaming about Liam’s limp body in his arms, or the things they had to do to survive over there. He went numb, more numb than before - and he was still desperately trying to feel something. Rage, pleasure, pain, anything but this nothingness. So it was no wonder he slipped so easily back into his old habits. 

Word got around though - of a doc that had a way of taking a bullet out of you so you didn’t die, and instantly forget you were his patient to begin with. And that money he left on the side? There was enough of it to get proper tools and drugs, make his work easier, but also enough to buy place from which he could do that one thing that still brought peace to his mind - cars. Tuning, fixing, creating - you name it, and he could do it. 

So for the last two years he’s been working as a backstreet doctor - though his practice is rather professionally equipped and sterile (don’t worry, he’s a nerd about that stuff), and focusing on cars as his ‘day’ (?) job. Whatever it is you wish, he can acquire it, and then make it better. It doesn’t matter if it’s a 1967 Impala or something... wilder, and newer. He’s got it covered. 

[swilmarillion]

Who is better at math and physics between Melkor and Mairon? I bet Mairon finds those moments where Melkor functions like a human computer incredible sexy

That’s a tough call, honestly.  I mean, Melkor is, despite all appearances, damn good at math, but Mairon is an absolute whiz.  If it was classroom, conceptual math, Mairon would have it in the bag.  If we’re talking applied math and physics, though?  They’re both good in their own ways.  Mairon can think through complex computations and problem-solve little nitpicky things like no one’s business.  Melkor is good at coming up with hands-on solutions to mechanical problems.  They’re good at math and physics in different ways, and it makes them a great business team.

As for Mairon seeing Melkor at work...

               “Woah,”said Mairon, standing in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob.  Melkor was sitting on the living room floor, chewingabsentmindedly on the pencil in his hand, papers scattered in a three-footradius around him.  

               “Hey,”said Melkor, not looking up.  “There’sleftover Chinese in the fridge if you want it.”

               Maironclosed the door and hung his bag on the hook in the hall.  “What are you up to?” he asked, walking overto where Melkor sat, stopping short of the outer circumference of paper debris.

               “I’mreviewing some designs for new body structures,” Melkor said.  “All the results came in today.”

               “Andyou’re reviewing them?”

               “Hey,”Melkor said, looking up at last, managing an affronted scowl.  “I do some work here and there.  You know, when they need someone with anactual brain.”

               Maironlaughed.  “Okay then, Poindexter,” hesaid.  “What’s the verdict?”

               “I’mnot sure,” Melkor said, frowning and looking back at the paper in his lap.  “I had a team on each design, and I have togo through each one of their results packets to make sure I have all thenumbers I need to make a determination.”

               “Soundslike some serious work,” Mairon said.

               “Don’tmake fun,” Melkor said.

               “I’mnot,” said Mairon.  He mostly meantit.  

               “I’vebeen trying to sort through these packets for an hour,” he said, annoyed.  “They’re in no distinguishable order.  I can’t even find half the shit I want tocompare.”

               “Iwould sympathize,” Mairon said, “except that I’ve gotten similar input from youabout seventeen times too many.”

               “Shutup,” said Melkor, with no real venom in the words.  “Just let me bitch, will you?”

               “Here,”Mairon said, plucking a page from the piles in front of him.  “I see stress testing on this page.  Let’s start there.”

               “I’dlove to,” Melkor said.  “Except I thinkpacket number three forgot that section.”

               “Thenthat one’s out for testing,” Mairon said.

               “Fairenough,” said Melkor.  “Which one do youhave?”

               “Four,I think.”

               “Here’stwo,” Melkor said, handing him a page.  “And…”Helooked around for a moment.  “Here’s one,”he said, picking up another page.  Theyspread the pages out on the couch, and Melkor turned around to look at them,Mairon leaning over the arm of the couch to help.  

               “Areyou kidding me?” Melkor said, making a noise of disgust.  “Look at this.”  He jabbed a finger at submission numberone.  “They did one replicate.  One!  Whatthe fuck kind of determination can you make from one replicate test?”

               “None,”Mairon said.

               “Idiots,”Melkor said, shaking his head.  “I swearto God, my whole department is full of morons. How do these people even get degrees?”

               “Easykiller,” Mairon said, trying to stifle a grin.

               “Isthis what it’s like to be you?” Melkor asked, rubbing his eyes.  “Just constantly reminded that everyonearound you is way dumber than you are?”

               “It’s astruggle,” Mairon said, laughing.  “Although,I have to say, it’s much more entertaining when it’s not happening to me.”

               “Nowyou know how I feel,” Melkor said.

               “Touche,”said Melkor.  He sighed, running a handthrough his hair.  “I feel like I need tosit my whole department down and give them a crash course in how to dostatistics for fucking dummies.”

               “I’dpay money to sit in on that class.”

               “Oh,yeah?”

               “Oh, ahundred percent,” Mairon said, absolutely serious.  “First of all, seeing you teach a class wouldprobably be the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

               “Hey,”Melkor said, affronted.  “I’m good atmath.”

               “Oh, Iknow,” Mairon said.  “But watching youtry to explain it to people would be priceless.”

               “Imean, that’s fair.”

               “On theother hand,” Mairon said, “I probably couldn’t actually handle sitting in a class,watching you teach.”

               “Whynot?”

               “Becausewatching you do actual work and say smart math stuff is, uh, how do I put thisdelicately?  Oh, right.  Reallyfucking hot.”

               “Really?”Melkor said, sitting back on his heels and giving Mairon a look.

               “Absolutely,”Mairon said, nodding solemnly.

               “Well, then,”Melkor said, standing up, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face.  “Sounds like you need some privateinstruction then.”

               “I likethe sound of that,” Mairon said, reaching out to run a hand slowly up Melkor’schest.

               “Wantto start now?” Melkor asked, taking Mairon’s hand and kissing his palm.

               “Very, very much,” Mairon said, putting hishand to Melkor’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

               Melkortook Mairon’s hand and pulled him close, heedless of the papers scrunchingunder their feet.  Mairon put his armsaround Melkor’s neck, pressing himself to Melkor’s chest, and kissed him, hisfingers curling in Melkor’s hair, pulling gently.

               Melkor pickedhim up, and Mairon wrapped his legs around Melkor’s waist, kissing himagain.  “Come on,” Melkor said, his voicegaining a rough edge as he started down the hall.  “I know exactly where I want to start.”

[theliterateape]

The Trouble with Transactional Relationships and Recognizing Them

by Don Hall

"Who the FUCK spends $288.00 in a Denny's?!"

Back in the 80s, the Wild Wild West was known as King 8 Casino & Hotel and was host to the King 8 Grill. At the time it was one of the hottest spots to eat in Vegas off the strip. Today, the King 8 Grill is a Denny's franchise and separate from the casino and hotel. Managers can still comp guests (and staff) but the company pays the Denny's Corporation for the courtesy.

Given the lack of perks for the guests, the Denny's comp is about all the managers at the West have to placate those with a beef.

The machines are rough around the edges. Approximately a third of the Game Kings and Buffalo's are decades old and break down frequently while players have money in them. In the earlier days of Vegas, slot machines were mechanical. Today, they are almost entirely Microsoft computers, monitors, and bugs.

✶

I noticed one of my cocktail waitresses at two tall Buffalos. She was flanked by two women who were both a solid foot taller than she was and highly animated, talking and gesticulating wildly. I came over, saw that the two machines were frozen. One had $11.00 in it. The other had $10.00 but had frozen during a Bonus Round. I tapped my waitress out. "I got this."

I held up my hands dramatically.

"I'm going to predict the future!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to get into these machines and do my level best to get them up and running so you can continue playing and you can get your bonus round. For the next ten minutes or so, I will endeavor to fix this. But I'm going to say something now that, if I cannot get things up and running, will not change from now to then. If I can't get your machines up and running, you will be given your $11.00 and $10.00 back, no question but you will not be awarded for a Bonus Round unplayed. You will now commence to bitching about this while I work."

And bitch they did commence.

For eight minutes I pulled out all the tricks. I checked the bill validators. I unplugged and plugged back in the silver box, the blue box, and the main computers. I put in my special reset card and reset both machines twice.

All the while, the two women yelled non-stop about how they treat people at the MGM Grand, about how one was a nurse and if something didn't work with a patient it would be on the hospital to compensate them, that the casinos were all making so much money that we could afford to pay out Bonus Rounds even if they weren't played. During the cacophony, I learned that they were mother and daughter but hardly looked it, that they were there with 'boyfriends' who they didn't really know too well (neither could get the mother's male companion's name right), and that they played here at the West all the time.

"OK. I tried. I failed. As I predicted, you will now be refunded the money in your machines."

Immediate discord.

My hands went up again. "Alright. I hear you. Here's what I can do. For you (the mother) I can give you your $11.00 back. That's it. My apologies and $11.00. For you (the daughter) I can either shut down the machine and you can wait for a slot technician to come and fix it and then play your bonus round. That'll happen next week and I can call you if you win anything. Or I can refund your $10.00 and offer you a meal at the Denny's for your trouble."

A pause.

"How about four meals? There's four of us."

I did a quick calculation in my head. I could get away with four meals at Denny's and justify it if for no other reason than to shut these ladies up and move on with my day.

"OK. I can do four meals."

The four of them, satisfied, walked over to the Denny's. I went to the cage and got them their $21.00. I handed it off as they were getting drinks. "This is on the house," I told the waitress.

I went about my business.

Ninety minutes later, the Denny's waitress came over to give me the bill so I could fill out the comp slip.

"$288.00?! What the hell did they freaking order? Holy Shit!"

Four steak dinners. Four milkshakes. Four desserts. Three breakfasts, a sandwich, and a meatloaf platter to go along with two more milkshakes. An order of brownies. The list went on. I was stunned and furious.

I was so caught off guard, I left the casino to smoke and vent out loud to myself. The first trip around the property I was angry at them. The second trip, I realized I was pissed at myself. I had opened the gate; they had just walked through it.

Twenty minutes later, I came back and noticed they were still there. No longer at the Denny's but back playing the machines. I knew that as soon as my general manager saw the $288.00 comp, it was my ass but I thought I saw a way out. I approached the four, all smiles.

"Did you enjoy your meal? You should've because you got enough food to serve a football team!" And they laughed.

"You sticking around? If you are, can I get you some drinks on me?"

They were and I could. They ordered four double shots of Patron. $72.00 in tequila. "Absolutely!" I said. I was betting these idiots wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Patron and El Toro so I had the bartender pour four double shots of the latter. A $1.80 comp.

Sure enough, they didn't know the difference between premium tequila and horse piss so they were feeling quite taken care of. I kept this up, delivering my fake Patron double shots every 45 minutes or so, chatting them up, directing them to slots that I told them were big payouts but, in fact, were more like donation boxes.

Six hours later, they were plastered and had lost over $6,000.00. I had made my $288.00 back and then some.

A few months later, I saw them in the joint again. The mother was having a problem with her free play points. There was no chance I was being suckered twice. I explained that I could email our marketing department to look into it but there was nothing I could do for her at the moment.

"What about some Denny's?" the daughter asked.

"No. I'm sorry but I can't give out Denny's for a $5.00 free play issue."

"That's alright. We already jacked up that stupid manager." They both started laughing. They didn't recognize me as I had shaved my beard off since our first encounter. "We ordered $300.00 in food. We ate on that for two days. That white boy was DUMB."

Yes. He was.

✶

In the casino most of the relationships are openly transactional. That's the very nature of the business. The casino wants people to come in and lose their money on slots. The people want something in return if they keep losing. Everyone is looking to get one over on everyone else. The nicest encounters from the nicest people can turn ugly in seconds as soon as the staff refuses a request.

My difficulty in life has been my inability to recognize these transactional relationships outside of the casino.

When we moved to Vegas, we came out here with a friend who financed the move in exchange for our help. He was disabled and couldn't handle the move. We were friends and it all seemed kosher until we arrived and the move was complete. The transaction had been concluded but the relationship was cemented in our obedience to more transactions. After all, he was still disabled and expected that we would continue to do his bidding and as soon as either my wife or I refused a request, we became his enemies.

My second marriage was transactional. She wanted someone to produce her artistic inclinations; I wanted someone brilliant to create shows I would produce. When I stopped producing shows of any kind, she moved on to a mutual friend for a year before we divorced.

In the earliest days of the theater I founded in the nineties, I thought we were all in it together but whenever I attempted something that would benefit us all and I failed, my failure resulted in my perceived comrades in arms turning on me in a split second. I spent the first several years of that endeavor constantly worried that the ensemble would simply leave should I not meet the transactional requirements in place. Eventually I got tired of that pressure and when people left only to scorch the earth with tales of what an asshole I was, I couldn't be surprised.

I was definitely the asshole. I reneged on the premise of the relationships. I was there to serve them, they were there to be served. I rejected the premise thus the promise.

Upon reflection, I've never been great at making friends. I can lay blame on a host of reasons for this but I'd wager that the rolling stone nature of my growing up has me gaining status and relationships based in large part from what I can supply. I'm worth your time because of what I can do for you. As soon as I find myself resenting the transactional nature of the friendship, as soon as I stop doing things, the relationship becomes null and void.

I'm getting on in years at this point and I find a healthy sense of misanthropy is settling into my bones. My earlier inability to understand the transactional nature of so many of my relationships—from the assistant I trained at the public radio station who was instrumental in my resignation to the misperceived friends I had in Chicago who abandoned me in the face of controversy—has fostered a desire to be left alone.

Yes. There was a time when I blamed them, was angry at them. After a second walk around the property, I realized that I had opened the gate; they just walked through it. If anyone is to blame (as if assigning blame is either necessary or helpful) it is most definitely me. I am the asshole. I entered into the agreement of friendship in exchange for industry. I no longer have any desire for that sort of bought and paid for relationship. Thus multiple burnt bridges to multiple transactional friendships.

I am, gratefully, beginning to recognize those relationships based on mutual interest, common enthusiasms, and equal transactions. I'm beginning to see the joys of friendships without strings attached, without a contract.

✶

With the economy having taken a hit and employment moving further and further online, it concerns me that so much of our communication to one another has become strictly transactional. GoFundMe, Patreon, Buy Me a Coffee, OnlyFans. As our relationships grow exponentially from in-person to online, the mixed message of being a "friend" (the definition changing before our very eyes and meaning everything from 'friend' to 'subscriber' to 'follower') and a transactional partner is murkier.

I mean, Christ, I just started to see the difference in my own life and I'm over half a century old. I wonder if my niece is able to see the difference now that so many of her relationships are primarily digital. I wonder about kids who've spent the past year in lockdown and who's only relationships are within the social media platforms.

From this position I'm in, having realized the emptiness of transactional friendships, I offer a caution. Take a moment or two and reflect upon your relationships. The ones that are predicated on transaction are doomed.

[prairiechzhead]

PrairieChzHead Rewatches Poldark S3 Legally--US Ep 6/UK Ep 7.

I’m going to come right out and say it: this episode is my least favorite of S3. It made me feel things. Bad things. Bad as in angry things. Once scene in particular still makes me feel stabby. This is the first time I rewatched it since last July. 

When I submitted my answers for this one to the @poldarkpodcast, I tried to not mention that Thing That Made Me Stabby, but unfortunately, the stabby feeling would not go away, nor would it calm down. 

Let’s see if I calmed down since last July, shall we? 

What did you think of this week’s episode?

This episode made me angry. If and when I rewatch this one, I’m going to have to have copious amounts of alcohol with me in order to get through it.

No booze this time, although the first time I rewatched I was sitting with a tennis ball digging into my lower back because my muscles tensed up from bending over in the shower when I was shaving my legs. It’s supposed to help work the knots out. 

The second time I rewatched it, my lower back was still hurting and I’d slathered enough Salonpas (aka Wasabi Ben-Gay) over where the muscles were knotted up to make my eyes water. 

(Not that my back problems have anything to do with Poldark, but I’ve been having back problems lately.) 

After rewatching, I think I’m more depressed than angry. Almost everyone was miserable in this episode. 

Your favourite? Why?

The final confrontation between George and Agatha. The acting between Caroline and Jack was phenomenal.

This is still my favorite scene. George ruins Agatha’s party, but Agatha gets the last word, in a manner of speaking, because she gets into George’s head and plants doubts about Valentine’s parentage. 

There is a bit I saw on the DVD where little Clowance grabs a toy cow from Jeremy and I swear the little girl who plays her had a smirk of triumph on her face, which made me smile. 

Least favourite? Why?

When Ross learned that Agatha died and all Demelza could do was bitch at him about George becoming MP. I’m still LIVID over her behavior. Demelza is someone who has a quiet strength and grace, which is the perfect foil for Ross and his moodiness and impulsiveness. She is not submissive in the books. At least I didn’t feel she was. This Demelza is anything but that. I’m confused as to why Demelza would be surprised or angry that Ross would not want to be an MP. She’s always complaining that he’s never home. He hates the constraints of his social class, which he would be held to even more as MP than he is now. Ross is a grassroots kind of person and I think he knows this (which explains why he gifted land to the village and basically started Cornwall’s first CSA). He hates parties and balls and all that stuff and he’d be expected to go to more of those. She’s been married to him for 8 years or so. Shouldn’t she know this about him? Part of the speech she made in S2 E9 about her pride in Ross was that he was not like other men of his class. But now she wants him to be someone he’s not? Is this how the writers are going to justify her affair with Lord Byron, I mean, Hugh? Lord, I hope not.

Ross’s remark about men not paying attention to Demelza was annoying, but it annoyed me because it was a heavy-handed way for the writers to get across the point from the books that Ross took for granted Demelza would never act on the attention that she received from other men. That could have been handled better.

This final scene would be That Thing That Made Me Stabby. 

I have this emotional trigger about seeing people basically crap all over or pile on someone who is hurting emotionally or in an emotionally vulnerable place. Especially if the person taking that emotional crap is a spouse, significant other, or a parent. 

Let’s just say that this behavior hits too close to home and that I was the one being crapped on. It is tone-deaf, self-centered, and just hurtful to basically ignore and dismiss someone else’s feelings as if they don’t matter. 

That it is Demelza doing this is especially galling to me. This is the same woman who went to Trenwith and took care of Francis, Elizabeth, & Geoffrey Charles when they all had the putrid throat, despite the fact that Francis had called her a trull and basically banned her from Trenwith for her part in Verity’s elopement in S1. This despite the fact that she was jealous and wary of Elizabeth. This is the action of someone who is selfless and giving and compassionate, which is what Demelza is and what makes her such a strong, likable character in the novels (and the show).  

The woman who went to the beach to berate her grieving husband over something that could have waited, is not the real Demelza. The woman who would not allow herself to be baited by George, was baited by George. She is not the real Demelza. She is Pod Demelza. 

What is Pod Demelza? If you’ve ever seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers (or as Monday Night Football commentator Jon Gruden calls it, “that body snatchers movie”), you know what I mean. Pod Demelza is a fraudulent double put in to take the place of the Real Demelza, who was probably abducted by aliens or something like that. 

Ross’s remark in the show about men not paying attention to Demelza is heavy-handed and I still think it is heavy-handed. However, due to the time constraints on the TV adaptation, there is not enough time for DH to gradually develop the Very Bad Thing 2: Electric Boogaloo Story. 

Novel spoilers ahead. 

In the Four Swans, as Demelza’s attraction to Hugh grows, she is upfront about this to Ross. At the same time, Ross doesn’t seem bothered by what she is telling him because he takes for granted that she would never act on her attraction. When she does, and he suspects that she has, it affects him in such a way, the consequences spill into the next book. 

However, since DH is not given the time needed to develop this properly, we get Ross making asshat remarks like this. 

So while, as a woman, this annoys the piss out of me (and my middle finger would have suddenly gone upright), as a viewer who has also read the novels, I get why it’s necessary to have Ross say things like this. 

I still want to flip a bird, but it’s easier to resist the urge. 

Favourite new character? Why?

Emma. I think Sam has met his match. :)

I love Emma. I love her sass. The storyline with her and Sam will come to a head in S4, but I’m not that thrilled that their storyline got short-shrifted in S3. I would have liked to see more of Sassy Emma and Pious Sam. 

Least favourite new character? Why? New and Improved Season 3 Demelza® ! Now with 75% more feistiness!.  If being selfless and kind and compassionate means you’re being a housewife and in the background, then please, let Demelza be a housewife again. It’s like there is virtually no trace of the Demelza from S1 that selflessly went to Trenwith and took care of Francis, Elizabeth, and Geoffrey Charles when they had the putrid throat because she couldn’t bear to know that they were suffering. There’s no trace of the Demelza, who, in the middle of her marital woes with Ross in S2, put that aside to console him when the mine caved in. Instead, we’re left with a snarky, bitchy, shallow person who answers to Demelza Poldark, but doesn’t resemble the woman who is Ross’s counterbalance, partner, and sounding board. Demelza of Old would not have run after Ross to bitch at him about not accepting the offer to be MP when he found out his oldest living relative just passed away. Prudie showed more compassion towards Ross when he learned of Agatha’s passing than his own wife did.  

I will not apologize for hating Pod Demelza. Never. Never ever, not ever. George put that bit in the letter in order to bait Ross and Demelza fell for it. 

If I had to pick a different least favorite new character, it would be Rowella, because I know her storyline. She’s a conniver, that girl. (Although in her defense, she is conniving against Reverend Toe Sucker, and he gets what he deserves.) 

Ossie is gross and nasty and vile. Horribly, horribly vile. 

What made you cheer?

Dwight and Caroline’s 30 seconds of screen time. I’ve given up on them getting any substantial storyline in this series, so I’m going to take whatever moments of screen time I can get and cherish them.

Also...

The bit when Armitage was going to go up to Demelza at the Carolight Nuptials but Ross cut him off, leaving Lord Byron to stare forlornly at the two departing figures. That made me cheer. 

What made you want to throw things at the television/computer screen?

Demelza. I don’t know what the writers did with the Demelza of old, but I’m not liking season 3 Demelza very much and this episode just cemented all the reasons why. Demelza is supposed to be a grown-ass woman and mother of two kids, but suddenly she is acting like an immature teen-aged girl. It felt to me that Demelza was constantly trying to pick fights with Ross. One example, from a conversation I was in about this on Tumblr, was that it seemed like she would bring up something prickly, like Valentine’s rickets for example, and then when Ross wouldn’t react the way she expected, she would get angry with him. From what I’ve seen so far, I’m not liking the direction of how this Demelza/Hugh thing is panning out. There were some conversations in the books between Ross and Demelza in this particular story thread that I would love to see acted out on screen, but I doubt that those conversations fit within the “Ross is ignoring me so I’ll find another man who will give me attention” storyline.

Three months later and this scene still makes feel things. I still want to hurl things, but not necessarily heavy things. 

A second thing that made me want to throw things at my TV was when other people *cough, cough* Lord Falmouth & Hugh Armitage *cough, cough* who hijacked the Carolight show wedding and made it about Ross, who was clearly embarrassed about this. (But yes, I do get that the wedding is supposed to be a “stand in” for other parties in the novel, and the excessive praise for Ross happened at another party.) Dwight can toast whomever he wants because it’s his wedding. The others...well, it’s pretentious and rude. 

A third thing that makes me still want to throw things at my TV is the “whose Valentine’s Daddy” speculation. There was no talk or speculation about Valentine’s baby daddy in the novels until Agatha got into George’s head and George’s behavior towards Valentine and Elizabeth changed. So then, out of nowhere, Demelza brings up Valentine having rickets and Dwight treating the child. She does this as if she suspects that Ross is Valentine’s father, and when she gets irritated because he doesn’t care like she thinks he should, I’m feeling the stabbiness return. 

In order to make the Demelza/Hugh thing plausible for TV, they have to make Demelza have a reason to be ticked off enough at Ross to go out and roll in the dunes with Armitage. I hate this in general, but I specifically hate this because it has Demelza picking a fight when that is out of character. She gets annoyed and they argue, but I don’t recall her purposely picking fights in the novel. However, Ross, in this instance is still true to the novels in that he neither knows nor speculates on Valentine’s parentage. He doesn’t until the church scene in Four Swans and even then, it doesn’t occur to him when Elizabeth brings it up. 

A fourth thing that makes me want to throw things at the TV is not that Demelza feels Ross is ignoring her. It’s how she reacts--that she is behaving so passive-aggressively and at times, looking for reasons to be ticked off with him. But she won’t tell him what is wrong. I dislike people who do this. It’s so manipulative and childish. 

A fifth thing that makes me want to throw things at the TV is that Demelza wants Ross to be an MP, even though in the novels, she agreed with his decision to turn down Bassett’s offer because she knew he would chafe at being on someone else’s leash and having to bend to someone else’s will. 

A sixth thing that makes me want to throw things at the TV is Hugh contriving to be invited to a party thrown by Francis Basset even though his uncle, Lord Falmouth and Bassett hate each other. Subtle, Hugh. Real subtle. You’re as subtle as the air in a room full of people after they ate Taco Bell. 

By the way, that party looked deadly, deadly dull. I can’t blame Ross for not wanting to go. 

I know, the books are not supposed to be the same as the show. But once you read the novels, you get very attached to these characters and when you see them being out of character, it can make one feel strong feelings. I can overlook some things, but not others. 

What was your performance of the week? Jack Farthing & Caroline Blakiston and how they performed the final confrontation between George and Agatha. This is one of those scenes from the book I was looking forward to seeing on the show and both of them delivered.

I will miss their barbed exchanges. I am glad that the final exchange was true to the books and that the outcome, Agatha getting into George’s head, which is her having the last word, happened. Also, George’s “there will be no party” was spot on. You could literally feel the hatred between the two characters. 

Bravo and well-done! 

Any other observations you wish to share with us!

Sam is growing on me. :)

I liked that Elizabeth referred to Agatha as “my aunt” when Agatha died. Technically she wasn’t her aunt, but it’s one of those little things that shows that Elizabeth did still care about Agatha. It’s also one of those little moments that show us Elizabeth’s humanity, especially after her seeming to cross over to the Dark Side.

I know that Elizabeth is not a nice character. But it’s nice that they showed that she did care about Agatha. 

Sam had to grow on me because his religious fervor is more heavy-handed than it is in the novels, and that heavy-handedness can be off-putting. 

I’ve felt that the season 3 episodes were rushed. With the edits that PBS makes, the episodes feel rushed and choppy. The slight edits (the one or two seconds shaved here and there) are more noticeable than they were in S2. The larger edits are especially noticeable.

My local PBS station starts with their local sponsors at 7:58 pm. The "previously on Poldark” and the national sponsors begin at 8:00 pm. The actual opening credits start at 8:02. 

Also, there was a new donor this week, one Carol Vasiladis. I wonder if she’ll ever get to tell us in person how much she enjoys Masterpiece Theater. 

Demelza still comes off as a stroppy, snarky teenager, which is totally opposite of her characterization in the novels, but it’s more pronounced in this episode. I still hate this and I always will.

Also, I just listened to Four Swans on Audible.com as I am rewatching this episode, and it’s making the things I dislike about Demelza’s characterization even worse than when I first saw this episode.

Like I said, when you read the novels, you get very attached to the story and the characters. 

And Favorite Aunt Agatha memory #RIPAuntAgatha

There are so many Agatha moments to like. I think the thing I will miss the most about Aunt Agatha is her running commentary. She’s like a living, breathing episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. 

There are many Agatha moments I love. But I think this one will always be my favorite because it sums up her sassiness. (Plus there’s Bonus Francis footage, because I miss Francis. I think everyone misses Francis.) 

Next week is US Ep 7/ UK Episode 8. We’re getting deeper into the Hugh Armitage storyline, which is not one of my favorite things in the novels. It’s really not one of my favorite things on the show. It’s also the second to last episode of Season 3, which also means that the December Pledge drive is coming up. 

[buffylikescoke]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 11#7

"I'll be in my bunk" ~ Willow Rosenberg

At first I found this issue quite decent, though maybe a bit boring but after giving it some more thought I can say with full conviction that "Disempowered" is this season's weakest moment.

The issue opens with secretary Reyes announcing a permanent solution to the supernatural problem. The government gives the zone denizens an option of being drained of magic or, as the fascist pig puts it, of what makes them a threat. Those that agree to go through the process are free to leave the ghetto. Their legal status is to be normalized and records expunged - expunged of what, exactly? The crime of existing? Fascists. Later on Lake, Willow's devoid of personality ex-girlfriend, even calls it an amnesty. Fucking fascists. Oh, and they might get some reintegration assistance - a carrot before the stick as Willow and Spike point out and hey, Willow and Spike can talk to each other, without Buffy in the panel, how cool is that? So how does the zone's population react? Some are delighted actually, but those that cannot survive without magic obviously are not and soon fights start breaking out between the two groups. During one of such fights stopped by Buffy, a nu-pire accuses a werewolf, very happy to get rid of his wolfhood, of abandoning his own kind. The vampire is afraid that when the majority leaves the zone, those that can't or won't take the government's deal will face ethnic cleansing. About that werewolf. He looks like garbage. If I didn't learn that this is supposed to be a werewolf from the dialogue I'd assume that it's just a dude in a fursuit or a were-rabbit (were-bunny?) or something! Not happy with werewolves holding conversations in their wolfed-out state either but since that already happened in season eight, I can't complain, I suppose.

But what about Scoobies? Their main worry is that the newly announced magic draining process is a smaller scale version of the machine the government is secretly building and that the endgame might be to zap the entire country with de-magicking ray. Spike suggests that Buffy and Willow accept the government’s offer, lose their powers and try to stop whatever is happening from the outside since apparently it's impossible to escape. Excuse me, what the fuck did Willow do in the previous issue? She walked out of the camp, with Buffy. So what keeps her from, again, walking the fuck out, grabbing Buffy and teleporting the fuck away? Not enough power? Isn't Willow, like, overflowing with power from all the wiccans she drained? Is it the wiccans that keep her inside? Later Willow talks to her coven and suggests that the witches still in the zone should take the deal and reveals that she might as well. OK, but what exactly makes them unsafe inside of the zone? I get that it's full of vampires and demons but we haven't seen any actual violence directed at the wiccans, not a single one of them was even attacked! If they're in such danger, then why not show that hypothetical danger instead of just constantly talking about it? The witches repeat the arguments we've heard in the previous issue, when Willow was doing the draining ( spiritual mutilation, violation and so on ) After the coven's meeting is done Calliope comes to talk to Willow about her decision and Willow reveals that she has a plan. Kind of. We don't learn what this plan entails in this issue but I'm hopeful. Willow asks Calliope to trust her, Calli ( can be Calli? Callio? 'Liope? ) kisses her but Willow stops her yet again because it's not right. Calli promises to break up with her girlfriend but Willow tells her not to. Basically, Willow's worried that Calliope is attracted to her because of the situation they're in and that Calli might feel differently when they're out of the zone. Willow's attitude here kinda reminds me of Oz a little bit in season two which is interesting. Anyway, is Calliope really the best the writers can do in Willow's love interest department? The bar was set impossibly low with Lake and so far, Calliope just doesn’t look like an improvement. In the end Calliope takes the deal and leaves the zone.

Buffy has more doubts about giving up her power and guess who shows up to help her make up her mind? Yes, it's captain cardboard and his wife. Buffy points out that without her power she'll be defenseless against everything ever that wants to kill her. Sam is quick to say that Buffy can take self-defense classes and grab a gun ( We had a scene like this in retreat by the way, with Buffy and Giles - derivative much? ) It's stupid. No amount of guns and Krav Maga can protect Buffy from the likes of, say, Drusilla? And yeah, sure, normal humans aren't exactly defenseless but normal humans haven't been pissing off the forces of darkness since they were fifteen! Of course, Riley says that Buffy's really worried about Spike, and I mean, sure, Buffy is worried about leaving Spike in the zone but reducing an issue this complex to just Buffy's love interest the way Riley does is ignorant, even for Riley. Buffy expresses more of her concerns in a conversation with Willow and Spike later at night. Visually, this scene is breathtaking, it’s wallpaper material, the writing, however, is just atrocious. The more you read into it, the worse it gets. It's like an onion made of shit, a shit onion if you will, the more layers you peel off...well, you get the point. What we have here is Willow spewing a nonsensical, pop-psychology polluted speech. For goodness' sake, Willow doesn't even talk like that, she doesn't make speeches at people, this reads like Buffy at her most pretentious pretending to be Willow. Anyway, according to our witch magic is what makes Buffy and Willow special. This is why they're afraid of taking the deal. They don't want to become normal, like Xander and Dawn. So we just have to believe in ourselves, says Willow, who we are without all the bells and whistles. Which I fully admit is scary as hell. Willow, seriously, you managed to restore magic without those bells and whistles, you lose those bells and whistles practically every season - so what could you possibly be afraid off at this point? Willow also equates Buffy's fighty with her witchy. Problem is, those two things are nothing alike, one is a birthright, the other is a skill. Everybody can do magic in Buffyverse, even the normal guy Xander. Willow's a turbo-witch because she put in the effort. Acquiring of power is basically 90% of her story and she's very much proud of having earned that power. Xander spent years figuring out how to kick ass, says then Buffy. As opposed to Willow? Shaking my head. Even if Willow says all this only to convince Buffy to take the deal, even if the intention here is to parallel the closing scene of "Wrecked" it’s still just monumentally stupid. Oh, and that cheerleader obsessed with clothes and shoes line is kinda ironic seeing how Willow's much more of a fashionista than Buffy these days.

Next day Buffy and Willow go through the procedure. They put their hands on a panel of an occult machine and with the mundanity akin to an X-ray test, it's done, they're magic free. Yes, again. OK, how many times were Buffy's powers taken away from her in the TV series? Once, in "Helpless", it’s ~30 minutes out of seven seasons. You know why it was done only once? Because it's not an action series when the protagonist can't do action. This is the third time this is happening in the comics - Tibet, Robot Buffy - fuck you, it counts! And Willow! With the exception of season 10, the Willow can't do magic storyline has been done in every season since season six, every fucking season they do this shit. Six - Willow's addicted, seven - a Wicca who won't-a, eight - twilight and goddesses and whatever, nine - no seed. And now, after a season where a common complain about Willow was that she's just constantly getting her ass kicked, they do it again. When you do it every season it's not exciting, it's not interesting, it's just obnoxious. And what else is there left to explore here anyway?! In a twelve issue season?! There's five issues left and now we have an action series with two leads that can't do any action, that's like making a musical with actors that can't sing oh wait.... But don’t worry, they'll just bring Faith over to handle the ass-kicking and possibly rename the series to Faith and her bitches. Jesus. But that's nothing, really. If that's the story the artists choose to tell then whatever, I’ll deal. You know what's the real problem with this issue and the rest of this season? The characterization. Buffy and Willow show no initiative! And they weren't like this in the TV series, quite the opposite actually, so what changed? And if you're gonna tell me that they grew up I'm gonna super-literally bitch slap you through the internet! They don't act, they're acted upon, submit, completely passive. So far it's been an entire season of we can't do this, it's impossible, it'd be a suicide. Give me back my action-fucking-heroines! Now! I demand!

On her way out of the camp Buffy is given the scythe back because why would a magic hungry government even want to keep one of the most powerful magical artifacts in existence? Jordan throws the weapon at Buffy, which topples her over because the scythe is apparently heavy. What? I know that Willow probably picks up heavy things and puts them down occasionally because I've seen her ass but come on, she's been running around with the scythe for months just fine. Heavy? This is nonsense! So...what did I like? I liked Buffy and Spike! They're funny, they're sexy, they're entertaining! I have to give credit where credit is due, all the coupley stuff is actually pretty top notch in this issue! Yeah, the missing I love you felt forced and unnatural and why is it even such a big deal but other than that, it's all good! The art, aside from that werewolf, looks incredible - the inking is super-sharp, the colors beautiful and vibrant. Art team, one, writing team, zero!

Wow, seven fucks! Yeah, "Disempowered" is trash. It's a derivative, boring, nonsensical mess. But hey, at least we're finally out of the safe zone. I hope to be proven wrong but with five issues to go, I'm afraid that pacing will turn out to be an issue this season.

[issyaboimoony]

More works in progress for Chiccolo

This one is: Bulma owns a store, and Piccolo works as a manager. Shenanigans ensue from there. To let you know how high-brow I intended this work to be, here’s a quote that was planned for later in the story:

“Is that all my finger in your ass meant to you that night?” Bulma demanded. Her brow was scrunched up in the most incredulous way as she glared at a rather disgruntled Vegeta. Piccolo was left, once again, with the deepest desire to leave this spiritual plane.

Worker AU

If you asked Piccolo if he was proud of his current occupation, you would probably receive a rather ethereal grunt, coupled with the most perfectly executed cold shoulder that any creature on Earth had ever managed to conjure up. It was all, Piccolo had learned, in the exact sixty-three point five degree turn that one had to use, that truly just spelled out the ‘fuck you’ nature of its intent. Sure, some people went for a sloppy eighty-five—but they paid dearly for it when the impact was lessened.

Regardless, his current occupation consisted of what was essentially babysitting, but for adults. And unlike everything else that earned that particular subtitle, there was no drinking, no fun, and certainly no sexual escapades of any kind. All that was offered as a reward was that Piccolo wanted to completely pluck all his non-existent hair out of his skull and promptly move to the Caribbean, where for once his species would work in his favor and he could soak up all that glorious sunlight.

He couldn’t exactly cash in on his 401k yet, though, and was thus left sitting dismally at a desk, punching in schedules as his boss rattled on behind him.

“Listen—it’s just, last year the decorations were so lame. I mean, I pay top notch, and what do I get? Some Great Value looking garbage taped to the walls? I don’t think so.”

“You chose to use decorations from our store,” Piccolo pointed out, voice devoid of all interest. The computer screen gave him an ominous flicker, that seemed to be a warning that if he were to handle anything improperly, it would promptly shit itself just to spite him. He didn’t want to go back to doing schedules by hand, so he tapped the left button ever so lightly.

“Whatever. This year, I guess I’m going all out. When people walk into Capsule Corp, I want them to get the ol’ razzle-dazzle! Y’know what I mean?”

Piccolo furrowed his brow as the computer beeped. He quickly removed his hand from the keyboard where he’d been letting it rest. Innocuous as it was, he didn’t know what exactly would set the machinery off. This stuff was ancient—which was really hilarious, considering his boss was highly trained in electronics, what with her father being the lead engineer in this day and age.

“Hey! Piccolo! Are you listening to me?”

Ah, if there was one thing that he had to do whenever his boss was present, it was listen. Bulma Briefs was, for lack of a better word, an all around bitch. Not that Piccolo particularly minded that, however it is certainly something that must be mentioned when discussing her. Bulma was the kind of woman who would stab you, and then cuss you out, sue you, and petition for your arrest all because you bloodied up her red Prada shoes. The woman was tall (for a human anyways), and to quote some vulgar co-workers, “built like a brick shit house”. While Piccolo didn’t know much about that, he could certainly ascertain to his boss being one of the most terrifying humans to ever walk the Earth. Her voice could cut through any noise, at any level. She could call you everything but a child of God all with a cheery little smile perked upon her lips. And she would assign you mandatory overtime on nights where she could tell that you were feeling particularly tired.

(That last one was a bit of a sore spot for Piccolo. He’d mentioned, in passing, that his wrists had been hurting as of late. Fast forward to post-lunch, where Bulma had immediately sprang on him that she needed him to stay late and handle a bunch of paperwork, then to sort it as well as he could.)

“I’m listening,” Piccolo finally responded. He flicked his ears in her direction. “So what’s your plan?”

“Order from elsewhere, duh.” Bulma gave him a critical look. “While you’re in here messing around on the computer, have you done a perimeter check?”

“I did earlier.”

“When?”

“Around noon.”

“Well, go do another one. You know they get antsy after meals.” Bulma flopped down into her plush leather chair—which Piccolo eyed greedily. His own chair was a tiny one that Bulma had taken off the floor once it was discovered that the thing was bent. Now Piccolo had to hunker over his computer in what Bulma assured him was a rather comical way.

Piccolo rose to obey the orders, and said chair screamed in agony as he rose. His elbow ever so gently knocked the desk, which in turn seemed to personally offend the computer. He stared in misery as the computer gave a rather haughty beep, before promptly erasing all his work by restarting itself for an update.

He gritted his fangs together, rose to his full seven feet, and stomped out of the room to go check on the workers. Already agitated by the loss of the schedule, he found himself less than eager (more than usual, anyways) to deal with the employees. If there was one thing that Bulma did not do, it was hire efficiently.

Piccolo’s first stop was the apparel area, where two girls occupied the stations. Lazuli and Marron ran this department with it bearing the nickname the Love Triangle (courtesy of Bulma). Unfortunately for everyone involved, Marron had once dated the Electronics man—Krillin. It had led to disgusting displays of affection, and for Piccolo to act as HR, and carry the Code and Conduct book with him everywhere he went. When that had crashed, and burned, Piccolo had hoped for peace. He had been sorely mistaken, however, as Bulma had soon hired Lazuli. At which point Bulma had sent him a rather lengthy text message about how she’d seen Lazuli eating lunch with Krillin. As much as Piccolo had wanted to ignore this, he’d been put on strict guard duty to ensure nothing else happened.

If Piccolo were being honest, though, he was certain that his station here was specifically meant for surveillance.

“Lazuli! Lazuli!” Marron’s grating voice reached Piccolo’s ears as he stomped through all of the clothing scattered about. “Have you read this magazine yet?” She was waving a glossy looking pamphlet in Lazuli’s direction, pointing emphatically at the cover. “Isn’t this guy dreamy? And oo—look at her eyelashes!”

Lazuli merely slid Marron a rather bored look, before returning to filing her nails. She did pause at Piccolo’s approach, however, and gave him a passing glance.

“Your department needs zoning,” Piccolo snarled.

Marron pouted her lips at him. “It looks perfectly fine.”

Piccolo toed a rather strappy looking shirt with his foot. “You certain about that?”

She grimaced. “Okay, okay, Mr. Grumpy Britches.”

“I’m your boss!”

“I got it.” Marron tossed her magazine to the side. “All right, Lazuli! Let’s get to folding!”

“And don’t just stuff them in a buggy like last time,” Piccolo instructed. “I had to call Gyumao to come and help.”

“I’m sure that must have eaten you up.” Lazuli said. Her voice was unnaturally bland, and Piccolo growled in her direction. The two were in action, though, and that was what mattered. They weren’t really that bad, drama aside. Marron seemed to think Lazuli was her best friend, while Lazuli treated the girl with something like indifference. With just the tiniest bit of prodding they actually worked pretty well.

He left the apparel section, and barely paused to give Krillin a nod in electronics. Krillin was never an issue Post-Marron. He worked hard, was always incredibly friendly, and managed to zone while running his freight. He was a blessing upon this cursed land. The only other worker he could actually count on was—

“Goddammit—Goku’s doing It again!” Bulma’s voice crackled from Piccolo’s ear piece, and he groaned. It didn’t really need to be elaborated on, because he already knew what was happening. He’d go to Housewares, where Son Goku would be doing something inane, with Goofball Smile #5 locked on his face. It had already been banned in the store—as well as smiles 1-4, due to the horrific effect it had on Gyumao. The woman was rendered completely useless after direct exposure to it, and it had been deemed too powerful to be allowed to run rampant any longer. Piccolo had to get to Housewares quick before Gyumao dropped another toaster.

Piccolo took off down the action alley, and finally arrived at the Housewares department, where Goku was rambling on about his recent workout, with Gyumao staring at him, a rather drippy smile hanging from her face.

The Goku-Deal was rather disappointing, considering that Gyumao was otherwise one of the best workers in the store. She ran Housewares like it was a war-zone, where anyone and everyone was under fire at all times. She helped customers so fast that often they would forget what they had come in for after she’d already walked them to the section, rattled off details, and had jumped to the next unsuspecting group. She ran all her freight in record time, hoisting entire couches over her head and up onto shelves. It had been the single most impressive thing that Piccolo had ever seen anyone do.

“Well, hey, Cheech—you should join me n’ Yamcha sometime soon! You’re real strong, ain’tcha?” Goku had dropped down to smile #3, and even though Piccolo knew that it was all unintentional, he still wanted to punch Goku dead in his face. Gyumao was completely at a loss, merely nodding along as Goku talked.

“Son!” Piccolo interjected, getting there just in time to watch the grip that Gyumao had on the daybed grow a bit wobbly.

“Hey, best buddy!” Goku greeted cheerily, and Piccolo grimaced.

“I’m your boss.” Piccolo felt as if he were constantly reminding his workers of this fact. Of course, it wasn’t entirely their fault. Bulma ran a pretty loose, and sometimes hectic, ship. Often her only commands came as a surprise to everyone, and were based off of odd whims that she had—and she used Piccolo to enact them. He often ended up looking like a fool in front of the very people who were supposed to listen to him.

“Sure, Piccolo, I know that.” Goku gave his best serious face—which was just two notches from a boyish grin.

Piccolo sighed. “You’re needed over in Toys; a customer wants a bike pulled down.”

“Of course!” Goku saluted and took off then. He jogged backwards energetically, and waved to both before he zipped around a corner.

With Goku gone, Gyumao reverted to her usual self, and gave Piccolo a rather acidic glare.

“You can quit pretending. I know Bulma sent you over here ‘cuz she thinks I can’t handle myself around Goku.” Chi Chi’s face seemed to be daring him to say otherwise—but Piccolo wasn’t an adrenaline seeking person. He preferred his face stay attached to his skull. He decided to merely shrug.