#and yet you say we’re triggered & sensitive

[weirdmixofweirdness]

“Doctor Who has gone woke!” There was a literal trans flab of skin in the sun explosion episode! And that was in 2005!

For the love of god, shut up!

[lightofraye]

The reason(s) I’m anti-Danneel

Hello all!

This is actually my first official anti-Danneel post as opposed to reblogging an anti post or responding to anons who somehow found me.

First, a note: some of what I'm posting are reposts from other now defunct/deactivated Tumblrs that I was able--thanks to the Wayback Machine and/or Tumblr preserving the reblogs with information--so whenever possible, I will credit the original authors. It's because of them that I was able to find out all the crap Danneel had done and the evidence.

If it's a "Jensen said this", don't ask me where precisely, because there are way too many cons, panels, interviews. Just trust that Jensen did say it, okay?

Now... to begin with the biggest crime to lay at Danneel's feet: Abuse.

So I'm going to preface this with a content warning/trigger warning. If you are bothered by description of abuse, even emotional abuse, I advise you to skip. I will not be held responsible for how upsetting this might get. You've been warned.

Now to begin! Here's the issues I've noticed (and others). Hat tip to @taraslittlecorner (now defunct/deactivated) for the original post that I was thankfully able to find on the Wayback Machine.

I'll add a cut here because it's going to get long!

Public Humiliation:

Jensen eating gummy bears. This post was made as a public stab at Jensen for the amount of gummy bears he was eating. It was a stab at not only his eating habits/weight, but it was also a stab at him being greedy or gluttonous.

Jensen on the carousel. Another stab at Jensen about his weight.

The whole AD house tour is full of stabs at Jensen. She takes a swipe at everything from him not wanting to change the children’s diapers, not cleaning the toilets, not cooking, and not being able to organize or clean behind himself. (There’s a lot of sketchy things in that video as well.) She even made fun of him for being proud of his side of the closet for being tidy.

Jensen didn't cry at the birth of his children. Yet another attempt at making an important, emotional moment in Jensen’s life about her, as well making Jensen seem as if he is emotionless and detached from his family and children, and she’s the one that’s so sensitive.

The FBBC interview. Now, that interviewer sucked ass too, let’s not kid ourselves, that was one of the worst interviews I’ve ever seen in my life. Elta continually trying to make Jensen look lazy, saying that he didn’t smell good, saying that she was pregnant knowing it made him uncomfortable. All of this was with one goal, to humiliate him.

The gaslighting hairdresser. You will never convince me Elta put this woman up to posting this photoshopped, off guard, horrible pic of Jensen and herself, as well as disclosing the location of his family in order to make it look as if she’s been there the whole time when really she’s not. Jensen is very self conscious about his appearance, and this showed him in a bad light, again to humiliate him and make him look like a slob. (That seems to be her MO.)

(These are just the ones we’re all familiar with, but if you guys send more receipts you want to add to this I’d be glad to add them to it as a receipt collection.)

2. Controlling: This is another all day topic. Seriously, we could talk all day about how one can be considered controlling in a relationship, and Elta is no different. The biggest and most public thing that we can see is her constant control over his Social Media.

Now, we know good and damn well that she’s also doing this to hold up to her facade of a “happily married couple”, but it’s also a way of controlling his interactions with other women, (originally he was never allowed to follow women on Social Media; something that has recently changed since The Boys and Big Sky has happened), and to keep track of who he’s talking to and what he’s doing.

Access to one’s cellphone, email address, and other social media is almost as good as attaching a GPS onto a person. If she access his cloud, she can access everything from text messages he’s sent to his most recent emails to his employers.

I have some proof but it will take time to document all of them.

**For those SPN buffs out there. You will also notice that Dean got a whole lot less action between the sheets and with female guest stars after his wedding to Elta, and that’s not a coincidence.**

Jealousy, or extreme jealousy in Elta’s case, can also be the mark of an abuser. The NEED to maintain that state of control, and if he get’s attached to another woman that is paying him better attention, he may try and break things off with her.

3. Isolation: If you’ve noticed Jensen hardly sees his family anymore. He used to speak of his family often, now it’s rare that he’s ever seen with them. They usually have to come to Dallas Con just to see him, and the only actual evidence we have of Elta being there with them all in years is a sketchy ass post on Instagram of Thanksgiving a few years back. Jensen did take his dad, brother, and brother-in law to the Nascar event he recently attended. Other than that, there has been little to no evidence of contact with his family at all as the years progressed, and it’s gotten worse as the years pass of that “marriage.”

He also seems to have shorted his circle of friends to people she gets along with. Marcus, Steve, etc. And even on “vacations” it’s surrounded by her little group of mooching family members and friends: New Orleans, she brought her brother and mother, as well as Steve Carlson and Marcus. Marcus even attended the trip to Cali when they went to the Golden Globes after party.

If you really take time and look, he’s rarely seen with anyone that ELTA doesn’t get along with, or are friends with. He doesn’t even hang out with Jared outside of Canada like he used too, and that should raise suspicious eyebrows alone.

4. Hypersensitivity:

We’ve seen this in the countless attacks Elta, as well as her friends, feel the need to do to SPN fans, or anyone that questions the legitimacy of anything she does or post. I don’t have all of these anymore on hand, but will add the links if I can find them. She’s called fans “fat whores”, anti joker face used to have the receipts, they went on for a while. You don’t have to dig very deep to find this stuff people.

She’s even had Clif write long ass post in order to make it looks as if she’s been so targeted when she just really brings all this shit on herself. She feels threatened because somewhere deep down, she knows she’s doing wrong. You know how the old saying goes, the guilty dog barks? Well, Elta barks a lot.

Even Jensen can get a little defensive when they attack her at cons and to his face. He knows that if he doesn’t defend her, or trys to stand up for himself there will be repercussions. “I don’t tell my wife what to do. I’m not stupid, or suicidal.”

5. Unexplained injury, or weight-loss: Since about 2018, Jensen has progressively lost weight. To the point that the FBBC instagram page even removed the photo I used in this example because people were commenting on Jensen’s weightloss. They try to explain it away in marathon training, but we all know that’s not the case. The constant attacks she’s made against his weight are starting to show.

Every time Jensen has to quarantine with her he starts to look like death warmed over, weight drop, sickly looking skin color, (which is also a sign of malnutrition), and that dead look we can’t get seem to forget. Then we get him back to work, and it’s almost an immediate improvement.

Then there is the chunk that’s missing out of his nose now because of a nose injury that kept being explained in different instances at the same event as to how he even got it. It first appeared a day after the FBBC family reunion event that took place in May of 2018 in a post made by Elta of Jensen playing with the kids, and people thought it was just a breathe right strip.

If you look closely, you can even see that his eyes looked to be blacked, as if he’d somehow broken his nose.Once he got ot an event for Elta’s Limbo Jewelry line launch in NYC, he kept changing the story as to how he got said injury. First he told fans that he’d hurt it by hitting a pool wall while playing with his kids. Then he said he’d dropped a keg on it. Well, if you’ve ever worked for a bar or been around kegs you know those things are heavy, and that story is a blatant lie.

CONSTANTLY SHIFTING STORIES OF HOW AN INJURY OCCURRED ARE ONE HELL OF A RED FLAG PEOPLE!!

If it were Elta with the injury, and she kept changing the story as to how she got it, there would have been questions asked; but since Jensen is a man it was never looked into.

Take all these for what you will guys! It’s only my observations and opinions! You may not agree, but I know you all can agree that if Jensen were female, this conversation would have happened a LONG time ago.

Men can be victims of domestic abuse/violence, and the evidence is there! I’m sure there is more, and if you send it to me via submission, even if you want to keep quiet and not put your handle on there I will add the evidence to this post.

THIS MAN DESERVES BETTER!!

[writing-for-life]

Right, okay, I’ve thought long and hard whether to write this:

A squick (even a strong one) is not the same as a trigger.

Emotional discomfort, even emotional discomfort that leads to low-level physical symptoms like e.g. mild nausea, is not trauma. Unfortunately, TikTok pop psych has done nothing to help people understand the difference, because the trend to perceive (even strong) emotional discomfort as equivalent to a trauma response is worrying and neither helps people with nor without PTSD. I don’t wish it on anyone to actually find out the difference if they haven’t yet (disclaimer, since this is unfortunately necessary these days because everything gets misconstrued: I am not talking about individual experiences, because only you can know about those. I’m talking about wider trends in an often young audience with not enough background info to be able to tell apart sound medical/psychological info and viral BS created by “influencers” for some kind of personal gain).

What people in the current fandom spat want to have tagged as “triggers” are overwhelmingly squicks. And we’re probably all guilty of quickly saying “that triggered me”, myself included (and I’m a licensed psychotherapist, shame on me). It has become somewhat of a shorthand for “extremely annoyed or grossed out”. But when it gets used in the context of tagging, it’s good to remember that no one owes us a tag list the length of our arm just because we don’t like certain things. Even if we strongly dislike them.

And even on the occasion someone else’s yuck or yum is an actual trigger for us, it is impossible to cover for every possible trigger, because in theory, EVERYTHING has the possibility to trigger someone somewhere.

E.g., a certain smell in a supermarket holds the rare possibility of triggering someone, but do you see disclaimers at the supermarket door that say, “May smell of 484 different things, which are in detail [list of 484 things] and might be different tomorrow. Plus, we might have a customer today who smells of that perfume that brings up your triggering childhood memories. Or maybe we won’t, but just on the odd chance we do, we thought we’d rather cover it”.

There might be one person with a very specific trigger that does literally nothing to the vast majority of people. Do we expect everyone on Tumblr to tag for “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” because of that? How about that person just puts “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” in their content filter instead?

Do we really suggest to put that type of responsibility on creators? More importantly: Who are we protecting that way? All we do is put people into bubble wrap and shift responsibility for our mental wellbeing away from ourselves to others.

We are trying to tell other people what to do for our own comfort. That’s controlling.

If we’re squicked out by something, there is a simple solution: we can stop looking or reading. We can use content (not tag) filters. In the worst case, we can block. We don’t have to put that type of responsibility for our personal sensitivities on creators (or people who reblog, for that matter).

We can tag for certain things as a courtesy, I’m all for it. I love being able to filter out stuff I’m not into, and I sometimes wish people would tag better or not tag a certain way (getting ship tags for a ship you’re not into slapped on your character-metas is annoying 🤣). But I don’t die, neither does it cause me unbearable distress, if I see cows where I don’t expect them. Scroll past or block. And if I’m worried about mature topics like nudity or violence: Tumblr has a community label for mature themes you can (and in my view should) use if in doubt. Funnily enough, many people don’t do that though—maybe because they worry about reach?

Of course we should include content warnings where they are due, no one says we shouldn’t. It’s also fair if a creator doesn’t wish to do that beyond general warnings (no specifics) though because they might give away, say, major plot points that way. In that case, general disclaimers like “contains depictions of violence”, or whatever it might be individually, are a good idea. And if that’s not specific enough for us despite knowing that “violence” in general might also contain our personal trigger, we might need to make the decision not to read it to stay safe, but we shouldn’t have a go at the writer for not tagging very specific things that might be considered spoilers.

Long story short: If we assume people are “triggered” by werewolves with vulvas or non-human characters, it might be worth thinking about whether we’re just talking about squicks that very much fall into the category of “personal responsibility”. And there are plenty solutions to that at our end—we don’t need to put that on creators…

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 18: Edging with Seungmin

Trigger warnings:

Content warnings: names (baby i think that’s it actually), oral (f receiving), finger fucking, edging (that’s why we’re here), a single ass slap, seungmin tells mc to beg at the end

Summary: He just wants to see how long he can draw this out.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“Are you positive? I don’t want you to say yes just because I’m curious.”

“I’ve been dropping hints for weeks, babe, I promise I want this.” You assured him, squeezing his hand as he settled on his stomach between your legs and wrapped his arms around your thighs. He gave you one last questioning glance, to which you nodded, before pressing his lips to your skin. He kissed up your thighs before pausing to blow on your cunt, looking up to smirk at you when you shivered. You wanted to urge him to hurry up but that kind of defeated the whole purpose of what you were doing. This was meant to be torturous - in the best way imaginable, of course.

He was eager though and didn’t tease for too long before flattening his tongue against you. He was always happy to go down on you and often playfully offered his face as a seat whenever you complained about having to stand. You sighed softly at the contact and carded your fingers through his hair, your free hand resting beside your head on the pillow. He allowed his fingers to spread you open and hummed against you when he sucked on your clit.

You let out a soft moan and rocked your hips against him, tugging gently at his hair as he flicked his tongue. Not only was he enthusiastic when it came to going down on you, he was fucking good at it. You felt flames wash over your body as he worked you up, lapping at your cunt with vigor.

You wanted to pout when he moved one hand away from your body but didn’t fight when he quickly brought that hand between your legs, fingers teasing at your entrance. He looked up at you, watching your reaction as his long fingers slid into you. You whimpered at his expression and let your head fall back against the pillows as he dove back in.

His tongue circled your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers curled, pressing against your g-spot, and you couldn’t hold in the moan that forced its way out. “So fucking good, baby…” He sighed, barely pulling back to speak so your pussy muffled his voice. The gentle vibrations felt heavenly and you bit your lip gently at the sensation.

It didn’t take him long to get you teetering on the edge. He was just that good. He could tell you were close, you’d been together long enough for him to know your tells. Still, you warned him. “Fuck ‘m so close-” You gasped, pulling his hair as you twisted the pillowcase in your free hand. You made a disappointed noise as he pulled away from you entirely but didn’t fight it. This is what you’d signed up for, what you’d asked for.

He moved up the bed and caught your lips in a demanding kiss. You enthusiastically reciprocated, lapping up every bit of your mess you could get to. You made out with him as the knot in your stomach began to loosen, relaxing when the desire backed off. You moved a hand between your bodies and reached for the front of his sweats but he stopped you, pulling back to take a breath and admire you. “Not yet, baby.” His voice was soft and warm and you found yourself easily pacified. “I wanna get you off first. Then you can touch, okay?”

You nodded and allowed him to carefully pin your hands above your head with one hand while the other slipped between your legs. He pressed his palm to your pussy and you couldn’t help but grind against him, loving the way your juices coated his hand for a delicious slide. He dragged his hand upwards until his fingers teased your clit, circling there for a moment before plunging two long fingers into you like before.

You puckered your lips expectantly, silently begging for a kiss, and he granted your wish with a small grin. He pressed his lips to yours and you let out a high-pitched hum as he sped up. He curled and scissored his fingers as he finger fucked you, swallowing every moan that ripped from your throat. He felt you tighten around his digits and tapped them against your g-spot teasingly, letting out a huff of laughter at the way you squirmed beneath him.

He continued like that until you were right at the edge and stopped again, this time lifting his messy fingers to his lips to lick them clean. It took him less time to get you there and you wanted to scream. This time, you were actually disappointed. You’d never done this before so you figured he’d edge you once and let you cum but he didn’t and you weren’t sure how many more times he’d do it.

“Why don’t you lay on your stomach for me, baby?” He suggested, though it was closer to being an order than a request. He released your wrists from the vice grip he had on them above your head and moved away from you entirely so you could get comfy. “Oh and put this under your hips.” He grabbed one of the pillows that had been discarded from the bed only a short while before you’d both started getting worked up; a short while before he suggested trying this.

You complied and flipped over, laying with the pillow propping your hips up. You listened as he finished undressing and bit your lip in anticipation when you felt the mattress dip on either side of you. He pushed your legs together and helped you lift your ass a bit before straddling your legs. He lined up and you fought the urge to push back and impale yourself on his cock, choosing instead to beg. “Please put it in, Min, I want you…” You whined softly, gasping when he pressed the tip in.

He felt bigger in this position and you couldn’t get enough, wiggling your hips to tease him in the hopes that he’d lose his sanity and drill you into the mattress. You didn’t have much luck with that but he began to rock his hips, slowly sinking further into you with each thrust. You felt like you were ascending each time he pushed back into you, the stretch of his cock sending wave after wave of arousal crashing over your body.

He didn’t work fast but you were still vocal, gasping and moaning each time his hips met yours. “Harder, Minnie! Please!” You moaned out, arching your back as he finally slammed into you at your request. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, mingling with your pathetic sounds.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” He groaned, hands kneading at your waist as he fucked you harder. You felt the coil in your stomach growing tight again but tried your hardest to relax. It was hard to do when the head of his cock was repeatedly abusing that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl in delight. “You’re close, aren't you?” You nodded frantically and he slapped your ass. “Beg.”

His tone made you shudder, fanning the fire under your skin, and you had to actively fight off your orgasm. “Minnie, please! Please, ‘m so fucking close- can I cum? Please, please, please can I cum? I need it so bad- fuck-” You practically sobbed out your request and he couldn’t hold back his own orgasm, filling you to the brim as he granted you permission to cum.

Molten lava filled your veins and you trembled violently under him as you came undone. You let out a cry that vaguely sounded like his name and he began to slow down, not stopping until you were left with only the aftershocks of pleasure. He pulled out as you came down from your high and leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, chuckling softly when you whimpered at the contact. “Was that okay, baby?”

“More than okay.” You sighed, bringing your arms up to rest your head on them. “Fucking amazing. But can you help me clean up?”

[immortalthunderstorm]

Aemond Targaryen and the Brothel Madam: A Case of Vulnerability? 

With the final trailer out and conversations running rampant, @liv000000 and I have been bouncing off ideas and theories on that Aemond shot and our thoughts on it. Obviously none of these are set in stone and need to be taken with a very sizeable pinch of salt as we don’t really have anything concrete to base it on, so a lot of this really is us just weaving scenarios together and trying to craft a narrative and character exploration based on a few crumbs.

Before we start off, we’d like to just say that we are not necessarily in favour of these. House of the Dragon has a history of often brushing over sexual trauma without giving those moments the recognition they deserve - we aren’t confident that this show is the right medium to accurately present such sensitive topics and that the writers really wish to do this in depth beyond victimisation and shock value. Neither is the fandom as we’ve now gotten to know it at large mature enough to accept and analyse these, especially if it involves a character they aren’t particularly fond of, as we’ve seen with the Alicent-Viserys rape scene or the ‘Foot Scene’ with Larys which got turned into a joke and yet again was squarely placed at Alicen’t feet as something that is somehow her fault and not the guy’s who was sexually assaulting her.

But, although we dislike the overall sentiment, we still want to try to make sense of it. 

We’re here to talk about this scene:

Some eagle-eyed fans have connected the hand holding Aemond here to the one of S1EP09’s brothel madam which he encounters with Criston Cole on their search for Aegon (there’s a scar beneath her knuckles that the actress, Michelle Bonnard, also has). For this analysis, we will pretend that this is confirmed.

For reference, we’re talking about this lady here:

A bit of background of what we learn of her and her ‘connection’ to Aemond:

“Aegon brought me to the Street of Silk on my 13th name day. It was his duty as my brother, he said, to ensure I was as educated as he was. At least that's what I understood him to mean. [...] He said, ‘Time to get it wet.’”

For his thirteenth nameday, Aegon took Aemond to the Street of Silk to lose his virginity, no doubt as a right of passage to essentially have him become a man, as fostered by Westerosi culture (we could write an entire other meta about this and Aegon’s perspective but won’t get into it here). Notice that Aemond expressed that he himself wasn’t sure of the advantage/purpose of this and just parrots what Aegon said to him without actively supporting this as his own opinion. It’s something he clearly didn’t really want to do himself but went along with because his older brother told him to.

Cole asks her about Aegon, while Aemond stands next to him, silent. At the end of the conversation, she says (flirtatiously):

“I wish you luck, good Ser. And my best to your friend. [to Aemond] How you've grown.”

This is personal, she recognises him. Was she the one to take his virginity? It seems likely. He clearly also hasn’t been back there since that day.

How does Aemond react to this?

He clearly still feels very uncomfortable around her even three years later, can’t maintain eye contact, shrinks away etc. This has no doubt ruined his perception of sex and engrained in his mind, the act of sexual intimacy is something unpleasant, humiliating, and potentially painful.

@darksvster also posted the script of this scene, which has Aemond ‘clearly shaken’ over being confronted with his abuser.

Since we know he hasn’t been back to the brothel since, him going there willingly now invites the presumption that this requires some sort of extreme trigger moment for him.

The two moments we’ll delve into for this are Blood & Cheese and Rook’s Rest, in which members of his family get hurt either directly or indirectly as a consequence of his actions. This also adds up with the leaks that the actress of the brothel madam is going to have a nude scene in either episode 2 (post B&C) or episode 5 (post RR).

Theory 1: Self Punishment

(we found this gif on Reddit, please let us know if you are or know who the original creator is and we’ll credit them)

In this shot, Aemond looks mentally defeated. His cheeks are wet, but he is not actively sobbing. He’s despondent and catatonic—empty. He also looks the most vulnerable we have ever seen him. His eye patch is off (something that we know from the book he rarely exposed on accounts of insecurity and ‘scaring the ladies’), he is naked and lying in a foetal position while someone (the brothel madam?) is holding onto his arm.

As we’ve explored how traumatic his first experience with her must have been, and how he was unwilling to even look her in the eye, much less seek her out for intimacy. This could be a form of utter self-punishment, a willing reenactment of the second most traumatic experience in his life. After B&C, he’d feel troubling amounts of guilt, so this is his way of putting himself through as much mental and bodily harm as possible. If this was about pleasure or comfort, it is doubtful he would go back to the woman who never gave him that feeling. Neither does his body language here show anything other than anguish. He’s partly disassociating.

There is also a theory floating about that rather than having 6 year old Jaeheara threatened with rape as in the book, this will be given to Helaena in the show (understandably so, as little Olive was only six at the time of filming).We could see the taunts being passed onto Helaena as her mother is tied up and can do nothing to help her, and it works just as well as it serves as humiliation to Aegon, as she’s his wife. In the shot below, Cheese has Helaena by the hair, very close to his body, and he’s delighting in her torment. This would hurt Aemond deeply, as he’s shown to be fond of Helaena and takes it upon himself to defend her whenever necessary. So, he’s essentially putting himself (guilty) to what his sister (innocent) was subjected to in his grief.

Theory 2: Emotional Incest

Emotional incest is a family dynamic that oversteps healthy boundaries between children and parents. It's a type of abuse in which a parent looks to their child for the emotional support that would be normally provided by another adult. The effects of covert incest on children when they become adults are thought to mimic actual incest, although to a lesser degree. It’s normally found in adults, but if you have people pleasing children (or parentification), they sometimes want to take on the role of the partner, rather than the child.

There are a few instances in this season, hinted at in the trailers and supported by the book, in which Alicent and Aemond won’t see eye to eye - she will not be happy with how he killed Luke and essentially ended all chances of peace. She also seems to advocate for caution and diplomacy alongside Otto whereas Aegon and Aemond will be out for revenge and full war. If we go by the book and Aemond also is the one to injure Aegon at Rook’s Rest, she will probably give Aemond the cold-shoulder after he’s willingly or unwillingly endangered his own brother. She’s shown to want to take the slow and diplomatic approach in this war, to avoid bloodshed as enough has been spilled, whereas her sons are eager for battle and war to get vengeance for the tragedy that has befallen them. She no doubt will give him an “I told you so” lecture, and Aemond will perhaps seek comfort, as he’s grown a twisted sense of his abuser after revisiting her in the brothel.

This adds to the theory that young Aemond chose the brothel madam specifically out of a need for comfort. In a situation like the one he was subjected to he chose a whore who at least looked like the person he feels safest around, his own mother who is a source of comfort for him and who he loves deeply. If that is the case, this paired with with the mental consequences of this encounter, it could develop into him being attracted to and seeking out women who remind him of her. This could also impact his later relationship with Alys Rivers.

We really dislike this, as much as it could make sense. Aemond is one of the few men in Alicent’s life who loves her without desiring or exploiting her, their relationship in season 1 was very soft and if the above is the case it adds a bit of a sinister and sexual note to a parent-child dynamic which so far has been relatively unproblematic.

[stellamalonesolaria]

BTS Kim Taehyung x reader |The Woman At the Bar| Oneshot

pairing: office worker! taehyung x mysterious woman! fem reader

genre: mystery au | explores dark themes | supernatural au

author’s note: the build up is a bit slow partially because it’s my first time writing a fanfic but trust me the the story is quite the treat. just stay tuned in till the end :)

disclaimer:

the following story contains content that explores sensitive and mature themes that may not be suitable for the audience.

hence, viewers discretion is advised

trigger warning: mentions of depression, abetment of suicide.

5 June 2024, Friday

Gigophone Headquarters, Seoul.

8:15 p.m.

Taehyung’s pov

“Jin hyung, want to go out for drinks today?” I plead as hyung just looks at me cryptically and declines by shaking his head sideways.

why? i need someone to accompany me while i have my daily dose of liquor and i choose you today, jin hyung.

“Please brother, the drinks are on me this time.” i insist, yet again, receiving a devastating sigh from him as i anticipate a no.

“Okay but only this one time” Jin hyung says coldly, this was to my surprise

I smile at him and nod my head

As we’re walking towards the bar, which is located in the same vicinity as our office so we didn’t have to walk much, I feel a tap on my shoulders.

I turn to look around but I spot no one.

“what happened Taehyung? is there something on your shoulder?” Jin hyung asks concerned

“No-no hyung. I just felt something on my back probably a twig?” i dismiss the sensation i felt on my shoulder.

time skip.

In the Bar:

8:40 p.m.

Author’s p.o.v.

“ Our boss is such an A-hole, that bastard has kept my promotion on hold since the last two years. “

taehyung groans in frustration as jin just sighs as he pushes back his spectacles upwards to correct its position on his nose bridge.

“he still favours you a lot as two years ago” jin says ominously. if taehyung wasn’t aware about jin’s professionalism, he would have thought that jin sounds salty but that isn’t the case.

“i know i know but he thinks i don’t deserve the raise until i prove my competency again” taehyung rolls his eyes as he blurts this out, half wasted.

taehyung loosens his tie as he feels the warmth due to the drink creeping up

Seokjin can hold his alcohol well but cannot hold his pee. he excuses himself to use the washroom.

Suddenly, while Taehyung is immersing himself with the club’s ambience and his bitter drink, a woman enters the bar.

the woman is dressed in complete black. her black satin dress hugging her curves, her medium length silky hair reaching her mid-back with red streaks at the end, wearing two inch pointed YSL heels and carrying a black bag that slung around her shoulders. she is the embodiment of beauty.

she walks over to where the taehyung is sitting.

“Good Day Sir, May I have one glass of vodka topped with soda?” the woman in black asks

the waiter mesmerized by her charisma responds, “Sure madam, drinks are on the table today”, she smiles at this statement.

taehyung’s pov

‘what a seductress.’ i think as i feel myself growing hot because of this new presence in this club.

the woman takes her drink and then places herself on the seat right next to mine.

i can see her up close, her features are remarkable but she feels somewhat familiar . have i seen her somewhere? is she perhaps a model?

I’m pulled out of my train of thoughts when she snaps her fingers at me, grabbing my attention.

“Hi, I’m-“ loud music overrides her statement so i never get to know my name and to not sound aloof i don’t ask for her name again either.

“Taehyung.” i say, “What is a pretty girl like you doing in this cheap bar?” I ask curiously. by the looks of her attire, she looks like she lives a lavish life.

“Just reclaiming what’s mine” she says in a weird tone. ah whatever, i’m too drunk to decipher the underlying message of her statement.

her hand slowly starts to travel up my right thigh, whew that is hot but too fast too.

“ma’am, i’m not that easy” i state coquettishly as i remove her hand from my thigh and place a gentle peck on the back of it.

“oh really?” she says smirking a little

she then sips her drink, leaving a red lipstick stain on the glass and offers me to drink from it

i look at her lips. she has some kind of charm to her, she is so fucking pretty.

beep. beep.

my phone rings,

a notification pops up

“when are you returning home?”

the text displays

i grunt in annoyance

“half an hour” i text back dryly.

i keep my phone to the side again, i better go get jin hyung so that we can leave for home.

the pretty lady catches my eye again as she offers her drink to me, once again.

i politely decline. “no thank you madam.” i say. even when you’re 29, stranger danger still exists.

a slight frown forms on her face as she persists for me to have a sip.

I feel annoyed so I get up, bow to her and leave to find Jin hyung. he must be in the washroom.

I enter the men’s washroom. I knock on the door in which Jin hyung is but he asks for five more minutes.

Just as he says that, I feel the door knob click before me as I sense another person entering the bathroom stall as well.

The lady at the bar has invaded the men’s washroom.

I’m too drunk. this has to be it. otherwise, why would a woman enter into our territory?

“Taehyung-ah” she calls out my name

oh shit. she is inside the men’s washroom. i feel scared, doldrum and fear creeping in, never in a lifetime has anyone made me as uncomfortable as her.

my safety is compromised.

I compel for Jin hyung to get out as quickly as possible amidst ignoring her reprimands for not responding to her well.

He gets out, he sees the woman inside, he washes his face, to get a clear view of her, he looks shocked as he contemplates her existence in the washroom.

He grabs my hand and rushes out of the washroom, going over to pay the bill for our drinks.

My head starts throbbing a lot.

Suddenly, the woman screams at the top of her lungs. “Taehyung” that’s all she says.

my headache grows worse

she jumps onto me and starts attacking me by clinging to me.

I scream back in protest, trying to defend myself.

Everyone else in the club except for Jin hyung because he has gone over to pay our liquor dues gathers around us

Seeing the lady ferociously attached to me like a beast, they try to remove her grasp over mine.

They succeed so in doing that, her nails engraved marks onto my skin.

What a crazy woman

“Who are you miss? why are you troubling this fine gentleman? you know you could be locked up for physical harassment?” one of the people from the crowd asks her.

“I AM HIS WIFE” she shouts at the man

a brick hit my head, is this gaslighting or no way…is she my wife??

my head hurts a lot

the woman comes closer to me, “I’M YOUR WIFE TAEHYUNG, YOUR WIFE, YOU LOVE ME AND YOU ALWAYS WILL LOVE ME. EVEN DEATH CANNOT DO US PART” she says.

My wife…?? Why do I have no recollection of her then? who is she really?

so many unanswered questions flash my mind, why can i not remember what happened two years ago.

what? why did i suddenly think of what happened two years ago.

Suddenly i feel a broad, well built chest hugging me, i look up at his tears stained cheeks.

Jin hyung is weeping sorrowfully but why?

“your wife is dead, Taehyung, Y/N is dead”

too much to decipher, i fade into unconsciousness.

Author’s POV

flashback

5th July 2022

“Happy birthday sweetie, daddy loves you so much”, Taehyung says that to his five years old daughter

“Thank you so much Appa”, His daughter says smilingly.

His daughter then looks at him and smiles sadly, “Daddy, mommy made me a cake”

Taehyung listens to her surprised

“A cake? your mommy baked you a cake? aww that’s so nice of her” He says praising you.

“But she added salt instead of sugar” Minjee sighs as she says that.

“Sure it wasn’t intentional sweetie, mommy loves you a lot!” Taehyung says while he internally is aware of the truth.

“Mommy loves me? I’m sure she wants me dead” a frown forms on her face as she states this into nothingness, she quickly plasters her face with a giggle to not make the ambience of the house depressing.

Taehyung hugs his daughter, she is so mature for her age, he feels angry at you for not controlling your sentiments towards your own blood.

“How do you know that honey, every mother loves her child” taehyung tries to convince his daughter but his attempts go futile,

“She’s been bathing me with rubber gloves on, the thought of touching me with her bare hands repulses her”, minjee says with pools of tears in her eyes.

Taehyung tries to change the topic by bringing up the fact that Minjee’s grandfather, your father who is also the chairman of the company he’s working for, has nominated him for a promotion.

“That is so cool daddy, I’m so proud of you” Minjee says as she pecks his cheeks afterwards to congratulate his victory, he smiles and looks at her endearingly.

He goes into his shared room with you, his wife, who has been diagnosed with post partum depression due to the twin you miscarried while having Minjee.

“WHAT KIND OF SICK MOTHER ARE YOU?” taehyung screams at you

you say nothing

“Answer me Y/N” he says strictly, “YOU COULDNT EVEN MAKE HER A NORMAL CAKE, YOU WASH HER USING A GLOVE? HOW THE FUCK DOES SOMEONE HATE THEIR OWN AKIN?” he continues raging.

“I don’t want to hate her Taehyung”, you say crying,

“She’s my own, how can I hate her but whenever I go near her, I feel disgusted with myself and her, for some reason, i just cannot shake this feeling and this is causing a wreak havoc in my life!”, you continue,

“I’m a terrible mother, I’m not even a mother for how I feel towards my own child, I’m a moster!” you exclaim.

“THEN FUCKING CHANGE YOURSELF” he shouts at you.

“the therapy is not working, i just hate her so much. sometimes i wish for her death” you scream

taehyung feels something switch within himself, he simply grabs your shoulders, set up a noose using his belt, “you die, not her” he says without thinking and then leaves the room going to meet his daughter.

After some time, silence is all he hears in this house but then suddenly the door bell rings, revealing his father in law who also happens to be his boss.

“How are you taehyung, happy birthday to my little princess”, your father takes out a large trunk filled with toys for his beloved granddaughter.

Minjee hugs her grandfather and peppers his cheeks with little kisses as a sign of affection.

“Okay now let me go meet my daughter, Taehyung, son, please call her”

Taehyung complies as he opens the door.

he falls on his knees to his horror, as he sees you hanging from the fan with the same noose he tied for her.

He feels his heart and his head throbbing, realising he has a heart attack, he falls down.

He hears footsteps coming inside, he then grasps faint shouting from your father.

…flashback ends

5th july 2024, 9:40 p.m.

Taehyung regains his consciousness with fleeting memories from the past.

He has had another heart attack due to the sudden whiplash of events from the past.

“TAEHYUNG” jin calls out to him as taehyung slowly opens his eyes, his heart rate returning to normalcy

he hears another cry, “Appa” from his daughter whom he started to ignore ever since that incident, he got into anti depressants and memory suppressants which repressed a part of his hippocampus’s ability to remember heart wrenching moments.

he has forgotten about the existence of his little family due to the medication and the deep state of trauma but his daughter did not deserve this.

He immediately hugs his daughter and apologises to her for putting her through so much bullshit, she hugs him back. (she will need a lot of therapy when she grows up god)

“Taehyung, you had been in coma ever since the incident at the bar” Jin says worried.

“Hyung, was Y/N really there? you saw her didn’t you? Hyung please answer, she’s alive right?” Taehyung says with glint of hope in his eyes, hoping his lover is alive and well.

Jin looks down at his feet, “you’ve been suffering from visual and auditory ever since the…everything happened in the club was in your imagination that’s why i wasn’t willing to accompany you that day because you imagine her especially on that day, the same thing happened last year but not as severe as you going bonkers and then landing up in a coma” he says sadly.

Taehyung feels upset evidently, he apologises to Jin hyung and then his daughter, “I promise I will provide you with everything you want, I will compensate you for all the emotional damage by diligently going to therapy and actually trying to heal and move on”, he trails

“as for her, I haven’t processed her death yet so I will unfold myself slowly during the therapy session and hoping I could also reconcile with my father in law but i don’t think that would be possible anytime soon” he says maturely and then faints

3 years later.

Taehyung is sitting on a crimson coloured sofa in the confines of his therapist’s office whose name he keeps on forgetting as she sits in her white blouse, black pencil skirt in front of him, holding a notepad in her hand with a pencil stuck to her hair as a hair pin, scribbling down his condition and symptoms. She has administered him with a large dose of anti depressants to deal with his post grief depressive syndrome which has resulted in the suppression of few parts of his memories while this does not disrupt his daily life routine but surely does provide minor inconvenience such as forgetting trivial details. although the medication and counselling sessions have thoroughly helped him gain clarity over his past and how to deal with the trauma he has been through to be able to nurture and nurse his daughter better but still he is a lot of therapy sessions behind to reach the state of invigoration.

The therapy session begins:

“ so the medications are working, sir? “, the therapist asks.

“yes ma’am, I have reconciled with my father in law while I now prove myself to be worthy enough of that promotion, madam.”, Taehyung replies, delivering the happy news that she acknowledges with a cryptic nod.

“I think we’re ready to unpack now.” she says, expecting him to speak about the most crucial part of his past, you.

Taehyung breathes in to relax before saying, “about her? well i think i’m ready as well to face my inner demons, to face her.”

the therapist puts her notepad down on the table and sighs. Taehyung looks at her expectantly.

Therapist: we’ll go over that in our next session, till then, take care mister taehyung.

Taehyung nods his head in agreement to her statement, smiles at her, “Thank you so much for your help till this moment, miss..” ah there he goes forgetting her name yet again.

“Ah you seem to have forgotten my name mister kim”, the therapist smirks to which taehyung just shoots a boxy smile and says, “sorry madam.”

The next statement of hers, rubs that smile off his face and sends chills down his spine as she says her name.

“Y/N”.

the end

[cleverinsidejoke]

Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I had fun with this one. It's been fun getting this started, writing characters as best I can, and getting this show on the road! If there are any triggering parts in this, let me know and I'll add on a warning.

wc: 1957

  The air in the Angel’s Share had shifted. The drunk Bard’s loud singing and boisterous laughter had dwindled to silence. Diluc looked up from the inventory book, seeing Venti sitting upright and tense, hand wavering just by the bottle of dandelion wine, head inclined at a subtle angle, as though listening to the whispers of an unseen being. 

    Beneath the mountains of Liyue, Azhdaha ceases his cries as the world around him silences as Teyvat’s internal conflict resolves itself. The earth begins speaking again, indecipherable words that Azhdaha is accustomed to, growing louder and louder, deafening to his sensitive ears.

Zhongli hears it too. Even in this mortal form, he is still attuned to the stories Teyvat says, has grown accustomed to ignoring the senseless chatter of the world. The silence unnerves him.

    The entities of the Abyss shift in the ancient halls, quieting as something calls to them from afar. The Princess smiles to herself.

    In turn, Foul Legacy claws at the edges of Childe’s mind in a poor attempt at claiming consciousness. It settles for a quiet harmony of Abyssal murmurs. It feels strangely calm for the creature. Too human. Almost religious. 

    Teyvat has been disquieted, in disharmony with itself. It hides it well. Celestia cannot be allowed to know.

    The landing lacks the same harshness that pulled you to this strange world in the first place, instead landing you on the ground carefully, as you would a pet or a delicate heirloom. “So this is real, right?” You look over at Gene, collecting yourself. “We’re in Genshin Impact?” They shrug, looking around with caution. 

    “There’s the Dawn Winery.” you follow their gaze. Sure enough, there it was. You were on the heightened area near the Statue of the Seven, overlooking Springvale. From here, you could see the great city itself, windmills dimly lit by the moonlight. A crisp breeze blew in, rustling the tall grasses around you. With the quiet surroundings and the peaceful atmosphere, Mondstadt felt nothing short of home. 

    “I don’t care if it’s Buckingham Palace or Disneyland. I want to find someplace to sleep.” It turns out that being transported into a new world after a long day of stress wasn’t the greatest of feelings. You begin a careful descent towards the road, using Windrise as a point of reference. 

    “Likewise.” Gene follows, taking hold of your arm whenever your footing becomes unsteady. As Windrise grows closer, so grows your need for rest. You’re soon leaning on Gene for support. The gentle breeze fades as you approach the large tree. The Statue of the Seven looms larger than you expected, even stranger to see in real life. Gene takes the opportunity to touch it. The Statue’s light glows violet in turn. A slow transition.

    “Let’s just see if we can get some place at the Goth Grand Hotel or the Church. Surely the sisters can’t say no to us. The poor, helpless outlanders.” Slumping over their shoulder melodramatically, you yawn. “It’s getting too late.” The pair of you make your way to the city, with no real plan. Timmy is absent from the bridge. A shame. You rather liked tormenting seeing the boy interact with his pigeons. But it was late, and thus, understandable that he was absent. 

    “Halt, strange, yet respectable travelers!” The familiar line wakes you up a bit, your head snapping up to look at the speaker. It’s only Lawrence, accompanied by Swan, guarding the gate. Of course it wouldn’t be Amber. It’s not her duty to guard the gate, after all. “What brings you to the gates of Mondstadt so late?”

    “We’re only looking for a place to stay for the night, sirs.” Gene continues to shoulder your weight as they speak to the guards. They offer a disarming smile to the men. That same gentle twist of the lips that you’ve become so accustomed to. A smile that practically begs to be trusted.

    “The Church or the Headquarters may have a place for you to stay. Do you know anything, Swan?” Lawrence glances at the other man, probing for an answer. 

    “I’m not sure. I can escort them to the Church if need be.” Your drowsiness dampens the words, your body growing heavy. Soon, your weight is heavy on Gene’s back, unsupported by your consciousness as a deep slumber overtakes you.

    The Anemo Archon had become restless. The dandelion wine was left untouched on the counter, the solemn nature of the bard causing some unease in the tavern. Diluc almost preferred the boisterous and easygoing attitude. 

    Not that it mattered at the moment though. The tavern would be closing in a quarter of an hour. It was time to begin closing. Diluc began by approaching the other patrons, quietly asking them to leave and informing them that the tavern would close soon. Finally, it was down to Venti. 

    “It’s almost closing time.” The bard remained still, unresponsive. Then he turned, looking up at the bartender. 

    “The wind carried news, Master Diluc.” Venti’s soft smile is out of place, unmatched with his quiet tone. “Good news.” He seems to have been waiting for someone to ask. 

    “News?” He couldn’t deny his curiosity, especially if the Anemo Archon thought it was good.

    “The Creator has returned, Diluc! The Creator! And, if the winds are accurate, then they’ve brought another with them!” Venti grinned, standing from his chair. “They should have reached Mondstadt by now. Good night, Diluc.” 

    The influx of information causes Diluc to stiffen. The Creator? But the holy texts had predicted them to arrive much later. Venti pranced out of the tavern, leaving the bartender alone to his thoughts in the Angel’s Share. 

    Venti allowed the wind to guide him, whispers fueling his excitement. Following the new Anemo footprint of the Creator, he made his way to the Church of Favonius. 

    You awoke to the sound of idle chatter. Sitting up, you took in the sight of the well lit interior of the Church of Favonius. Gene’s laughter was what rang out across the church, allowing you to get up and track them more easily. You grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, following the voices.

    You had been sleeping on a pew in the back of the church, so it wasn’t all that difficult to walk to the front, where people were gathered and talking. As you picked apart the crowd, you could see Barbara, the sisters, Gene, and Venti himself. 

    “Oh, Y/N!” Gene waved you over, settling their hand on their neck as they turned their attention to the others. “This is my dearest friend.” folding your arms across your chest, you approach the group, giving an awkward wave. Part of you had hoped it was a dream. The reality was an uncomfortable one to be accustomed to.

    “Oh, so this is the esteemed friend you spoke of!” Venti approaches quickly, drawing a subtle flinch from Gene. “Of similar caliber to yourself, Creator?” The final word is what captures your attention. Creator? You had read the stories and Aus. This couldn’t possibly end well, could it?

    “Yes. Y/N is from the same realm as myself.” Their discomfort was obvious, in need of something to lean onto. You approach, draping an arm across their shoulders.

    “Yep! So… what tales of grandeur are said about you, Gene?” Perhaps if you can find what myths detail them, then you can prevent future danger.

    “I’m not sure. I’ve been away for so long…” With a nervous laugh, Gene looks back to the people. Long conversations with strangers, no matter how familiar they seem, had always been a bit difficult for them.

    “Do you have any tales, Venti?” You offer a point of conversation to the extroverted bard. 

    “Of course! I’ll tell you all about it. We’ve even got a whole, ehm... library, for you.” Venti laughed. “I’ll tell you about it when we get there. C’mon!” Approaching the end of the cathedral, opening the entrance to the basement. “Oh, Barbara! Is everything ready down there?”

    “Yes, yes!” A rushed voice called back, the stairs creaking. The blonde deaconess exited the basement, curtsying as she spotted Gene. “It’s really you! And your attendant! It’s truly my honor to be present so soon after your descent.” Her words are honeyed, too sweet for your liking. “Um, please come down! We’ve been preparing it for you.” She ushers you down the stairs quickly, the creaking accompanying you. 

    You’re greeted by the expansive basement, the far ambulatory chambers with statues in the likeness of each archon, another in the likeness of Gene in the center of the apse. The nave has pews closer to the statue, albeit only a few rows. Bookshelves line the walls closest to the front. It is a meager church, unlike what you read about. 

    “The worship of the Creator is prohibited by Celestia.” Venti pipes up. “In fact, all texts about you were abolished and almost completely destroyed. This is what remains after years of tracking them down.”

    “Venti happened to have a collection. After your signs began appearing across Teyvat, the churches and temples opened in secret again. I would say they began happening after the Traveler arrived in Mondstadt.” Barbara smiles sweetly. “You’re more than welcome to come here as much as you’d like.”

    “Thank you.” The pleasantries continue as you wander over to the bookshelves, looking for interesting titles and points to research. “The Books of Creation”, “The Heavenly Principles” “Prophecies of the Primordial One”... Each book proves worthy of looking over. Pulling one off the shelf, you begin to read, opening to a note in the beginning. It appears to be a dedicated journal.

    The Creator, on their own, is reality. The only god needed to prosper. With their blessings, our nation can prosper. Remember that, Alberr.

    You skim through the everyday things, gathering context clues until you begin to read fully.

19.8. 

    The field tillers are working better than we thought they would. Other nations have expressed concern involving them, but it is a breakthrough that we cannot allow to go to waste.

24.8

    Siarri consulted the books the other day. The Creator is due to return from their journey soon. Perhaps they can give us an ultimatum about the field tillers then. I don’t want to give up so easily on the years of work we’ve put into it. It’s worth being outcasted from the other nations. 

24.8 

    Siarri has taken to calling me names.

1.12

    The creator is late.

25.1

    Khaenri’ah has fallen. Celestia came in with no prior signs of hostility. The archons were there too, fighting with a vengeance. Almost like they were taking something back. Were they upset because their people were inclined towards our ways?

    Celestia has been in turmoil since then. Worship of the Creator has been outlawed. Does that extend to the archons? Aren’t they closer to the Creator than us mortals are? Barbatos and Rukkhadevata used to be all for the worship of the Holy one. Maybe the Cataclysm is what caused this change. It caused Khaenri’ah to fall, so I can only imagine what damage has been caused to Sumeru and Mondstadt. What damage it will eventually cause.

    We can’t blame anyone. But we can make inferences. I’m going to travel and make as many connections as I can. I’ll get another journal to write that down in.

29.12

To-Do

Buy a new bag journal   

Check in with the kids

Document Mondstadt

    The journal is gently taken from you, glanced at briefly by the taker, and set aside. “I’m afraid that wasn’t meant to go to the library.” The voice is immediately recognizable. You turn carefully. “Kaeya, Knight of Favonius. It’s an honor.”

[andsheoverthinks]

i am so tired of how easily people slip into anti-Blackness to defend their arguments

recently (always tbh but also recently) i've been seeing a lot of disdain circulating for African Americans, disappointedly but not surprisingly from a lot of non-white people as well.

[f appropriating other cultures is so repugnant to you... why do you have a kpop profile pic... but i digress]

specifically this is about the Cleopatra tv show? casting that people are discussing right now, it's really highlighted how Black people, especially African Americans, aren't allowed to do anything a little bit cringe without racist, violent blowback. Cleopatra has been played by many many actresses, most of whom aren't of Greek or Egyptian descent. So it's weird that people are acting like Black people are uniquely horrible and ignorant for the casting of a Black woman as Cleopatra, when many castings have not been historically accurate.

Liz Taylor was British-American, Vivien Leigh was British, Monica Bellucci and Sophia Italian... you get the point. and yet people aren't hurling racist slurs at white people (there are none) for casting Cleopatra as non-Greek/Egyptian all these years. if you're upset about this particular casting, you can at least be civil with your discussions. but, no, it's easiest to call us dirty, ignorant n******s because half the time people are just waiting for an excuse.

let me explain something to you, gently. a lot of people ask, well, African Americans and Caribbeans were sold from West African countries like Ghana and Nigeria, why don't they go appropriate those countries.

the answer's quite simple. we don't learn anything about West Africa in school.

laugh break, haha, dumb USAmericans.

okay, back to business. in the U.S., we learn a very short list of non-European civilizations: Mesopotamia, China, and Egypt. Maybe one line on Mali if you're lucky. the school system here is very sensitive to teaching anything that triggers 'white guilt' aka anything more than a cursory glance at anything concerning Black people and our history, which is deemed as unimportant. you can say we were obviously enslaved from West African countries so we should learn about those cultures, but... we don't speak our old languages, save for some loanwords like 'duppy' instead of 'ghost' in Caribbean vernacular and such, we don't eat our old foods, wear our traditional clothes... we don't even know what they were, what ethnic group(s) we would have belonged to. we're not immigrants in that sense that we have a home country, a definite place of origin. do you know what it's like to feel that so much of your identity is rootless? do you know how endless that emptiness is?

so when these three non-European civilizations were laid out before us, we latched onto the closest one, and ran a little too far with it.

in fact, my generation is less dependent on Egypt as a sort of crutch; this is more of an older people thing. we have healed enough to be able to look within.

this is not a sob story. this is just a story of how we got here, and how this construction of the world -- disregarding the effects of white supremacy and racial trauma while enacting racist behavior and showing incredible fluency with white supremacist imagery and rhetoric -- is fundamentally flawed.

this is just a sample of the racist tweets on the actress's twitter. i have chosen not to include the images that titilate these people but they are equally horrible, depicting violence against Black people.

in fact, i should stop calling this pathological behavior pattern 'white supremacy' at this point because a lot of people are actually getting off is to Arab slavery. the parallels between misogyny and anti-Blackness are so interesting -- misogynists are addicted to the ego boost of subjugating women, racists are addicted to the ego boost of subjugating Blacks. yes, your ancestors spearheaded an appallingly brutal slave trade of African people which lasted thirteen centuries and is continues to this day (yes, Black people are still being enslaved in your countries but you're butthurt over a tv show so it's time to go ballistic -- by the way white people were also kidnapped and sold but since the rise of European imperialism they'd been able to shed that 'shame'), even more evil than the triangular trade and there are fewer survivors because of the reproductive control methods (read, violent sterilization). source1 source2. you people spouting this nonsense because of a tv show are just as racist as the white people over here, possibly worse. do you feel edgy villain enough now? happy?!

and by the way, 'threatening' to cast white actors as Harriet Tubman or Martin Luther King doesn't hurt us the way that Cleopatra not looking white enough seems to emotionally wound you, we are used to being minimized and erased for our contributions to society and are not thin-skinned like the losers complaining about this like it's the worst thing in their lives.

Is Afro-centerism inaccurate? Probably. Is it fearmongering to position it as equivalent to white supremacy? Absolutely.

[Pop quiz: Which ideology enslaved, tortured, raped, killed, and colonized across many centuries?]

Does calling us n******s and invoking 4chan 'we wuz kangz' (yes there was a we wuz kangz meme but i'm not reposting their childish shit on my blog) arguments make you sound like anything other than a whiny child? No. Just say you don't like the casting like a grown-up.

Why doesn't Hollywood produce West Africa period pieces in order to cast more Black actors instead? Now there's an actually productive question. Thank you. Actually, next they should do a long, high budget docudrama on the Arab slave trade so you can feel really uncomfortable.

[indigosunsetao3]

Keeping Lines Blurry

Chapter 5 - Security Protocols

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Original FMC 6.1k words - AO3 Link.

By the time Henry and Olivia got up and made an appearance a few hours later, Gaz had nearly smoked his whole pack of cigarettes and had pried open a box of cereal that he had eaten dry since there was no milk. He had spent the better part of the past few hours reading up on Henry and Olivia on his phone and had been taking notes on a discarded grocery notepad he found in the kitchen. There were things he wanted more information on but that would require a bit more clearance and backdoor scouting which he would need a better computer for, or Alex. While Gaz knew how to hack into things and could navigate his way around code Alex was ten times better at it. The CIA had taught Alex well and luckily for Gaz his friend didn’t ask too many questions whenever Gaz sent him requests.

“Not a whole lot of breakfast items to choose from,” Gaz stated as he popped a few more Cheerios into his mouth from the bowl he had poured himself. “I’m waiting for clearance to leave and go to the shop so write down anything you may need,” he added sliding the grocery pad and pen over. He had ripped his notes off when he had heard movement in the bedroom and pocketed the information then started a list for himself. Cigarettes, gum, and milk were at the top of the list, though he could remember those easily enough he didn’t want it to seem suspicious as to why he had pen and paper. “There’s a half a pot of coffee left if you want, no milk though,” he finished nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

“Surely we aren’t going to be stuck here another day,” Henry stated as he stared at Gaz. He was already dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt with a tie neatly done. “MI6 should be done with their searching and securing by now,” he added as he pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly showing Gaz it was still off. “I have meetings and other business to attend to. I can’t continue to stay in the dark like this.”

“Until we get the all clear we are going to stay right here,” Gaz answered simply before eating another few cheerios with his fingers. He was feeling smug at the look of disdain Henry gave him and he did his best to hide his smirk. “Look at it as a forced relaxation,” he continued before his eyes darted over to Olivia who had reappeared from the kitchen with a mug of black coffee and a bowl of her own. She reached out for the box of cereal and Gaz nudged it toward her. She looked exhausted, dark purple circles were under her eyes where she hadn’t bothered with makeup yet and her shoulders were slumped inward a bit as she stared into her bowl of dry cereal.

“I need to know how our interview landed and find out what else is going on. I am on the foreign affairs staff after all. I should be attending to said affairs given everything that has happened,” Henry snapped as he took a seat at the table, folding his hands neatly on the wood. “If I can’t use my own electronics then get me something I can use, or yours,” his eyes fell on Gaz’s phone which had just buzzed while sitting on the table.

“You can’t have my phone,” Gaz answered simply knowing Henry hated being told no. “Too much sensitive information on there,” he smirked glancing at the text. It was from Alex. Gaz had sent him a few bullet points to look up and Alex was following up saying he’d start digging. “But I may be able to get you something you can use if we’re here much longer. In the meantime, there are plenty of books in the living room and a television,” he gestured vaguely over his shoulder before firing off a message to Price to find out the current status. Price answered fairly quickly stating he would be calling in a bit to give him the update and a second message to keep his shit together when he got the news because he wasn’t going to like it.

Shoving away from the table Gaz stood up quickly, his mind already running through all the things Price was going to tell him that wouldn’t make him happy. He had a sinking feeling it was he was stuck with Henry and Olivia for even longer and if it was in this tiny cottage Gaz was going to get shirty over it. There was nowhere he could go to get away from them really, the only closed-off area being the bathroom and bedroom which they had claimed. Feigning busy Gaz went to the coffee table snatched up his gun and other items that he hadn’t put back on and heaved them over his shoulder. “I’m going out to the car for a bit, expecting a call,” he explained to no one in particular before striding through the kitchen and out the backdoor.

The rain had let up at some point but everything was still soaked and the dirt driveway was a giant mud puddle that Gaz trekked through before climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door. It was cold and he shivered a bit as he turned the car on battery to at least get the radio before he busied his hands taking apart his pistol for lack of anything else to do. He had assembled and disassembled the thing three times before his phone finally rang and he picked up on the first ring.

“Captain,” Gaz stated as he leaned his elbow on the car’s window ledge, his eyes looking around the area which was still deserted save for a few birds.

“You alone?” Price asked gruffly. When Gaz gave a simple yes, he added “putting you on speaker. Laswell is on the line.”

“What’s this news I’m not going to like?” Gaz asked as his eyes darted to the kitchen window where Olivia had appeared. She looked preoccupied as she sipped on her coffee but when her eyes found Gaz she quickly looked away, tilting her body so her back was to him more.

“We’re on babysitting duty,” came Soap’s voice and Price cut him off before he could rant more about it, Soap’s words turning into indecipherable mutters in the background.

“We’re all headed back to England shortly,” Price clarified. “They want tight security on all of the government officials. All of the countries are battening down, we were right in our assumption that it wasn’t just England and American officials targeted. France and Germany thwarted their own attacks, though not without loss of life they just didn’t get to the intended targets. Spain wasn’t so lucky,” he paused and shuffled papers.

“Spain? They weren’t even part of the gala attacks or peace negotiations, what did they possibly do to get involved?” Gaz asked as he sat up straighter in his seat.

“We don’t know yet,” Laswell interjected. “But something is going on and they want all hands on deck at home. We’re setting up groups all over to guard and monitor the situation at home. Stepping up the terror threat levels and some countries are already talking about pulling out of the summit next month,” she continued before her sound was muffled as if she put her hand over the speaker to talk to someone.

“What if that was the point though? Scare people out of talking,” Gaz stated.

“We think that’s exactly the plan,” Price answered. “We can only do so much at once. So, first step is for us to make sure everything is secure while people that get paid more than us sit on their asses and talk amongst themselves to figure out next steps.”

“I take it the fact you’re heading back we have zero leads on who orchestrated the attack,” Gaz continued.

“We have plenty ideas but nothing solid yet,” Ghost finally chimed in. “We’re to be ready to leave on a moment's notice if we get the go ahead,” he continued. “But until then, like Soap said, we’re coddling politicians.”

“And I’m guessing Henry and Olivia are part of it,” Gaz said, finishing his words with a sigh. “Can I get another assignment at least if we’re going to be juggling more than one person?” Surely there was some other stuffy person he could watch over; he’d even take the prime minister who had a bug up their ass about everything.

“Henry and Olivia are priority,” Laswell finally came back. “They are the only ones that have been targeted twice so far. No one else had a house break in that we found and they were also at the gala. For whatever reason they are high up on the hitlist,” she paused to type something before coming back. “Everyone will be on rotation, switching off so there is no set pattern because we know they are being watched. I’m working with MI6 on schedules and backup plans if you all get called away.”

“Brilliant,” Gaz muttered. “This safe house is too small to be holed in forever,” he watched the kitchen window as Henry walked over and saw him and Olivia talk to one another. It didn’t look like the best conversation based on body language but Olivia didn’t fight back much, her stance more defeated looking than anything. “And I need to get more things. I didn’t bring anything with me because this was supposed to be a short trip that I somehow got stuck on without consultation.” His tone was a bit clipped, from the frustration of it all and the exhaustion bearing down on him.

“Sergeant,” Laswell answered, her tone just as cool as Gaz’s, “I’m well aware of your situation. But I had enough of a fight to keep Alex from being pulled back to be Shepard’s little spy. I think you can suck it up a bit and trust I’m working on what is best for the team, not just you.” She finished as if she were a mother admonishing one of her children.

“Yes ma’am,” Gaz replied after a beat of ringing silence on the phone. He knew in the grand scheme of things his situation was barely a blip on the radar. Dealing with a former lover, no matter how badly she had hurt him, was nothing compared to people losing their lives and the threat of a world war.

“We’ll be there this afternoon to switch off,” Price finally stated, putting an end to the awkward pause. “You can take them back to their house now, meet with the security team there to go over details. If there is something you don’t like or need more of tell them, they have been told to get us whatever we need no questions,” he finished.

“Rog’,” Gaz answered simply, “I’ll get them now and head that way. I’ll let you know if we run into anything.” And with that, he ended the call not wanting to stick around to hear anything else. He had at least gotten his wish to get out of the cottage but it seemed nothing came without a price anymore and he was paying for physical room at the cost of his proximity to Olivia and Henry.

“Good news,” Gaz said as he walked inside a moment later. He found Olivia was curled up on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket he had slept with the night before up to her neck, a book in her lap. Henry was sitting at the table with his briefcase open flipping through some paperwork. They both turned their heads to his attention and Olivia subtly pushed the blanket off her as if realizing what she had been doing. “We’ve been cleared to leave,” he barely got the words out and Henry shoved all his papers into his carrier and snapped the lid shut. “Keep phones off until we are back on the highway, I don’t want to give up this safe house in case we need to use it again,” he finished and Henry pushed back from the table and headed into the bedroom presumably to gather up his things. Olivia however, hadn’t moved from her spot, her fingers woven through the knitted material as she looked at Gaz from over the cushions.

“So, what does this mean?” She asked simply, her eyes darting to the bedroom where Henry was milling about. “Is it over? Did you catch who did this?”

“Not exactly,” Gaz answered. “We’ve got leads but no solid proof on who did it. There were more attacks against other countries so everyone is closing ranks and upping defenses. They want you all kept safe so a security protocol has been put in place. Someone will be with you at all times, out on your property, monitoring your movements. Goal is for you to never be alone, even if you can’t see us,” he shrugged a bit. “Until we figure out who exactly did this while attempting to stop a world war.”

“I haven’t been alone in years,” Olivia answered with a small sigh. She had been monitored and watched ever since she had said yes to Henry so she was used to always having someone lurking in the shadows. Setting the book down on the coffee table she stood up and headed to the bedroom to change and gather up her own items. “Are you part of this team?” She asked with a hint of hope in her tone as she paused at the doorway before sidestepping as Henry shoved past with his suitcase. “I mean surely your boss doesn’t hate you, or us, that much to force us together,” she finished after catching Henry’s glance. He had heard the tone in her voice before and he certainly didn’t like it.

Gaz wasn’t sure what she had meant by not being alone in years, but he had caught the way she had said it along with how she asked if he was part of the team. “I’ll be there, yes,” Gaz replied his tone starting out sympathetic, “but it’s a joint effort. You aren’t the only important people on the list,” he finished with snark as she got in her last little barb. Gaz wasn’t sure why she was being such an ass toward him, it wasn’t like he had left her. “Get your stuff together, I want to be out as soon as possible. And try not to leave a mess behind,” he nodded his head toward the cereal box that had been left on the table.

“I’m sure you all have someone that can clean. It’s not my job,” Olivia tossed over her shoulder before disappearing into the bedroom.

“Fucking princess,” Gaz muttered as he snatched up the cereal box and moved to throw it away before picking up the kitchen and the rest of the living area. He didn’t know when the occupant would be home but he certainly wasn’t going to leave them a mess to come back to. When Olivia appeared again twenty minutes later, she was impeccably dressed and she went outside to join Henry who had never come back inside. Henry was like an eager dog waiting to go for a car ride and had been sitting in the SUV the whole time. “I guess I’ll finish up here,” Gaz muttered as he reached for the grocery list pad and ripped off his sheet before scribbling a quick thank you.

A sweep of the bedroom Gaz found Olivia had at least stripped the bed to wash the sheets and had piled their glasses on the nightstand. He grabbed the glasses when something caught his eye and he zeroed in on a bloodstain on one of the sheets. It wasn’t huge, about the size of a 2p coin, but it was definitely newer and not an old stain from the homeowner. Gaz nudged it with his foot and found more droplets trailing away from it but that was it. Maybe one of them had hurt themselves in that crashing noise that had originally woken him up the night before. Or Olivia’s wounds on her feet had been freshly opened in her sleep. He hadn’t seen any fresh injuries on either of them that morning and neither gave any indication something was seriously the matter. Tucking the knowledge away Gaz left the bedroom, shoved the glasses in the dishwasher, and locked up the place before getting into the vehicle to leave.

The car ride to Henry’s and Olivia’s place was in relative silence between the three occupants. Gaz had turned the radio on low and pulled the music to the front of the vehicle to try and drown out Henry’s voice as he made phone call after phone call once they hit the highway. Olivia had also busied herself on her phone, though not making any calls, just scrolling away in silence as she watched the landscape fly by. Gaz dared to look at the two of them every now and then in the rearview mirror for lack of anything else to do and had found Olivia staring at him a few times before quickly looking away again. All the small comments and her body language in the past day were mulling around in his head as he weaved in and out of traffic and he hoped Alex had found something of use to answer a few questions at least.

When they arrived at the rather ostentatious house Gaz immediately pulled the SUV into an unoccupied section of their carriage house before being accosted by the security team. He saw Olivia walk into the house alone as Henry’s team seemed to appear like a swarm of ants, dutifully grabbing his luggage for him and chattering all at once with news. No one even paused to glance at Olivia, let alone offer their assistance, as she breezed past them into the house and disappeared from view. He didn’t have a chance to linger on that though as he was led inside the house and to a security room that had a wall full of monitors. There were cameras all over the house, the property, even going as far as having cameras out in the wooded area behind the house.

“You did all of this overnight?” Gaz asked a bit shocked at how fast they worked considering how intricate everything was. He took a seat at a small card table and pulled an inventory list toward him before looking up for someone to answer him.

“Oh no, these were already here,” someone answered simply. “Made our jobs a bit easier not having to run all the wire,” he laughed a bit.

“Already here?” Gaz mused raising an eyebrow. No wonder Olivia said she was never alone. He could see her now in what he assumed was their bedroom, working on unzipping her dress. Gaz nearly jumped out of the seat to cover the camera for her own privacy but it seemed she knew where all the cameras in the house were and disappeared into a closet to undress fully. “Did you catch who got in then? See how they got in or what they wanted?”

“No,” a woman answered flatly as she flipped open an iPad and handed it to Gaz. “They hacked in and looped security feed down at the gate,” she gestured for him to hit play and Gaz did. He watched as an unmarked black van pulled up and someone hopped out and pulled wires out of the control panel and hacked in. They set the security feed on a minute loop for what had happened ten minutes prior and no one was the wiser. There was no one home so lack of movement wasn’t suspicious and they could move freely around without being caught. “We’ve already fixed it, obviously, and have put in a more secure panel.”

“Odd they knew where to go for a weak point,” Gaz stated as he backed up the footage and watched again. They didn’t even hesitate and were so quick about it, it was almost as if they had practiced or done it a few times before. “Have you looked into the company that installed it? The prior security team?” He asked looking up at the woman who nodded and gave him another list of names that they were looking into. Nothing stood out to Gaz in his quick review but that didn’t mean they weren’t someone of interest.

“We’ll walk you through the rest of what’s been done if you could follow me,” the woman said and Gaz rose from the chair. He snatched up a notepad and pen and followed her out the door and took a tour of the place.

The house was gigantic, much larger than a junior government official could afford or need but Henry’s family long line of wealth knew no bounds. Gaz had found in his research early that morning that he and Olivia had moved into this place right after they were married, it was an old family house that Henry had gutted and redone for Olivia as a wedding present. Gaz also suspected all the cameras had been part of that gift as well, though he doubted Olivia had known they came with the package.

“And these are your quarters,” the woman finished as she pushed open a door to a guest bedroom that was just down the hall from Olivia and Henry’s room. “They wanted you close for emergencies,” she explained as Gaz stepped inside and looked. It was simple enough; two full beds were across the far wall with nightstands and a decent sized closet with dressers built in. There was a bathroom off the room and a small desk area that also tapped into the security feeds so they could keep an eye on the house even from their bedroom. Everything looked fresh like it had just been installed or put in that day, there were still some plastic wrappings on the monitors themselves. “We can get another bed or cot in here if needed,” she offered as Gaz went to the desk and pulled up the feed.

“We’ll be fine for now,” Gaz stated simply. He doubted there would be much sleeping anyway if they were going to be on security duty and it would be on rotating shifts anyway. “I need a list of upcoming events if you wouldn’t mind,” he asked without looking at the woman. He saw Olivia sprawled out on her bed and was absentmindedly flipping through channels on the television. Her feet were free from shoes and they were unbandaged, no fresh blood or wounds. So, the blood on the sheets had been from something else. “And I have a few things I’ll need changed for security,” he turned to look at the woman as she tapped away on her phone. “I’ll put it together and get it to you in a bit. I’m guessing I’ll find you in the security room?” He asked.

“More than likely yes,” she answered, “or somewhere on the cameras,” she gestured with her phone. “Like big brother always watching,” she muttered before walking out and shutting the door behind her.

“Like big brother,” Gaz echoed as he took a seat and began messing with the cameras, rolling them back to the evening before to see if he could catch anything himself. He had busied himself for hours rolling over tape, writing down notes and time stamps, adding to the list of security items they would need, and answering a few messages here and there. Alex hadn’t been able to really dig into Gaz’s inquiries just yet, having to travel and fight with a few superiors to be able to stay on with the 141 on ‘loan’ versus being sent home.

Just as he was about to see just how far back the camera history could go the bedroom door swung open and Soap walked in, his footfalls heavy even on the plush carpet. Gaz hadn’t even seen them arrive, though he had all the feeds still on the night before, the only live ones being Olivia’s bedroom where she had fallen asleep, and Henry’s office where he was working. Gaz noted the audio in his office was perpetually turned off even when he attempted to override it. It was probably due to security, not wanting any type of audio if Henry was dealing with sensitive government items but it still rubbed Gaz the wrong way. Especially since Henry seemed to have no qualms about recording his wife in their bedroom in full high definition with crystal clear audio.

“Watching home movies?” Soap inquired as he came over and bent over Gaz, one hand on the back of the chair the other resting on the desk. “Christ, Price wasn’t kidding when he said this place had more cameras than Buckingham,” he pointed to one that was a camera in that room, fixed pointedly on the two beds. “That ones got to go,” he added, “no one gets a free look at my arse,” he laughed and patted Gaz on the shoulder before standing up.

“Already on the list,” Gaz answered as he tapped the notepad that was four pages deep in notes now. “I’ve seen enough of your arse to last me a lifetime, I don’t need a digital record as well,” he smirked before getting up from the desk and stretching. “Where’s the rest of the team?” His eyes darted back to Olivia again as she shifted and rolled over on the bed, curling around a pillow and tugging it tight against her chest.

“In the main security room. Price wanted Alex on it right away, see if he could find anything that they hadn’t yet, canny thing that he is,” he grinned as he tossed a duffle toward Gaz who caught it.

It was Gaz’s things back from Belarus and Gaz instantly threw it onto the bed and dug around until he produced another pack of smokes. His emergency pack that he was going to have to tap into since he hadn’t made it to the store yet.

“How was it?” Soap inquired as he caught Gaz slapping the pack against the palm of his hand. “I’m assuming it wasn’t a barrel of laughs,” he raised an eyebrow at the smokes as Gaz peeled the protective plastic sheet off.

“About as well as you’d expect,” Gaz answered as he looked around the room. How pissed would Henry be if he just lit up? “Caught them at it in the middle of the night. Bloody loud knocking things over, thought someone was breaking in until I heard the rest of it,” Gaz rolled his eyes, “pretty sure they did that on purpose.”

“Oh fuck me,” Soap whistled before he wrenched open a window for Gaz and gestured for him to go over to it. “He’s an oily one, isn’t he? Not that she’s any better,” he snagged a smoke from Gaz’s pack and lit it from the offered lighter. “Don’t tell Ghost,” he tagged on, “he’ll make me run for the hell of it.” It was well known that their lieutenant didn’t like anyone on the team smoking, he didn’t pester Price about his cigars though that was only because he was a Captain. Ghost had once made Gaz run until he threw up after finding him smoking in the barracks years ago and hadn’t been much better about it since.

“Thing is,” Gaz mused as he just flicked the ash on the windowsill, he’d deal with it later, “something is off.” He leaned against the wall and looked out across the perfectly manicured lawn and the fountain in the middle of a bed of flowers. “I don’t know what but something isn’t right. Olivia is just…different. It’s almost like she’s afraid,” he shrugged a bit. “I saw her,” Gaz paused looking for any word but the word, “…afterward in the kitchen, and she all but flinched away from me when I tried to help her with something. She’d been crying by the looks of it.” Gaz had been replaying that moment in his head for much of the day, how she yanked her arm away and widened her eyes in fear for a brief second. Gaz had never hurt her, never laid a hand on her, yet she acted like he was going to strike or grab at her in anger.

“It’s been three years,” Soap started, “and as you’ve learned she is not the person you thought she was. I wouldn’t look too far into it. I’m sure they are all scared with all this shit that has happened. People get twitchy when they’re afraid,” Soap answered as he kicked one of his up to rest on the bed frame near them. “Probably crying because her husband is shit in bed,” he teased trying to get Gaz to at least crack a smile. “I’m sure it’s fine, maybe they just had a fight or something,” he blew out his smoke not bothering to aim for the window.

“Yeah, I guess,” Gaz said unconvinced. At that moment his cell phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his back pocket to see Abby had texted. He smirked a bit and unlocked it to send a reply before Soap leaned over to see who he was messaging. “Met her on the plane ride here,” Gaz said as he scrolled up to find a picture she had sent him prior to her getting ready for the day. It was a tasteful shot from the neck up that revealed nothing though Gaz knew she had been in nothing but a towel based on the suggestive text that accompanied the picture. “She asked me for a drink last night but that didn’t work out. I wonder how much time Price will give to me to go get my things,” he finished with a laugh.

“Hasn’t been all that bad then,” Soap smirked as he leaned back to let Gaz respond in private. “I’m sure if you lay on the wounded puppy bit thick he’ll give you whatever you want,” Soap answered as he ground out his smoke on the window sill and pried the screen up a bit to push the ash outside. “You’re the favorite son after all,” he grinned. Price did not play favorites but Gaz had definitely been taken under Price’s wing when he pulled him into the 141 and tended to look out for him.

“Rather be Price’s favorite than Ghosts,” Gaz answered as he flicked his cigarette butt out the window into the damp bushes below. Being the two lower ranking of the group they each had a mentor and while Gaz got along fine with Ghost his teaching methods were not his favorite.

“Poor Alex, the redheaded stepchild,” Soap mused before both of their phones vibrated. They were being summoned to the security room to debrief and discuss next steps.

The meeting with the security team took a bit as they all crammed into the main monitor room. Gaz produced his list of fixes and items he wanted provided and Alex chimed in with his own findings and lackings in the system after only poking around for a short amount of time. They were told money was no object in the fortification of the place and the team took that to heart as they tossed around different ideas and extra things that could be provided. Once the extremely long and expensive shopping list was out of the way schedules were discussed next. They were all on rotation between here, the prime minister and deputy prime minister for now, there was a chance more could be added later. MI6 would be taking other government officials and if extra backup was needed they would provide the 141 support.

Gaz had been given permission from Price to take some time to head to his sisters to gather what he would need, stating that Soap had volunteered to take his first shift. Soap gave Gaz a knowing smirk from across the table but quickly fixed his face when Price addressed him next that he could switch out for his own purposes when Gaz returned. Price wasn’t sure how long they would all be on assignment so he emphasized gathering what they would need for the long haul, but to travel light as well. Their main base of operation would be the MI6 office in downtown London but with rotating watch shifts they would be bouncing around to multiple locations per week.

Eager to get away as soon as possible Gaz excused himself at the end of the meeting and began making calls and sending messages. His sister was working a double shift at the hospital so she wasn’t going to be home by the time he got there, his nephew was in school and his brother-in-law was travelling for work which meant the house was empty. Gaz was a bit disappointed at that thought, he hadn’t seen any of his family since the start of summer but maybe being back in England for a bit he would get a chance to sneak away again. He contemplated calling his mother to see if she was free, she ought to be now that she was retired, but his parents lived too far north for a quick trip. He knew he’d be really pushing the limits of his time away if he made the drive up there even if Soap wouldn’t say anything.

Deciding to hell with it, Gaz climbed into the SUV he’d been driving and sent a message to Abby to see if she was still in town. He knew she had work but it was worth the shot for a small window to maybe grab an early dinner and those drinks he had promised her. He was about halfway to his sister when the message came back from her that he was in luck, her flight had been canceled with everything that had happened. People were getting leery about traveling aboard and the private chartered flight to Russia was put on hold for a few days to see if things calmed down.

When he got to his sisters Gaz made quick work of a shower and shave before going into ‘his room’ to dig out some clothes and other things he’d need. He made a pitstop in his nephew’s room to leave him a note promising to take him to a football shop when he was next in town. He also put some fresh flowers he had bought in a vase in the kitchen for his sister as a thanks before he was out the door again. While he had been getting ready Abby had texted for him to just meet her at her flat since she knew they only had a few hours before he was back to work. She offered to cook and Gaz wasn’t going to turn down a home-cooked meal over takeout since that’s all he’d been living on for the past little while.

On the ride back to London his mind drifted a bit back to Olivia. Musing over her demeanor, how she lashed out brutally but also when she thought no one was looking how she seemed faded and just flat compared to the woman he used to know. He wondered what she was doing at that moment in her huge house, alone, while her husband was busy doing whatever it was he did. As Gaz turned into a parking lot, he had decided to stop for wine not wanting to show up empty-handed, a text message came in from an unknown number.

We need to talk

Was all the message said. No signature, no other indication of who it was from or what they wanted to talk about. Throwing the car into park once he found an empty spot Gaz picked up his phone and stared at the message for a bit before sending a quick reply asking who it was. They didn’t answer and he sat in the car for a few moments staring at the screen waiting to see if he’d get a response. It was a London area code, that much he knew, but nothing else was familiar. Perhaps it was one of those security workers, he had given his number to them before he left in case they needed to reach him with any questions. He sat for another minute waiting but nothing came back through so he tucked the phone away and headed into the shop not wanting to waste any more time.

[hotcocoaandstripedsweaters]

OC-tober Day 10: Kisser in a different time period

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

Once again, this has run long--longer even than the last one--so it's under a read more. I just couldn't resist writing a cute little fic cliché with everyone's favorite womp rat.

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

Din Djarin has gotten used to rolling with the weird stuff that comes from having a Force Sensitive kid.

Well, he certainly likes to think so, anyway.

Right up until his kid triggers a lightshow in some old ruins and a young Boba Fett falls out in unfamiliar armor.

“Karking shit hells,” Boba groans, face down on the stone floor.

Din has to agree.

Grogu burbles happily, slapping at the symbol he’d touched on the wall. Fortunately, there are no more light shows.

Boba looks Grogu and smiles, lighter and freer than Din has ever seen. “What’s a tubie like you doing out of the creche?” he asks as he sits up.

Grogu babbles happily, toddling over to Boba and gesturing at Din. Boba almost dismisses him, then does a double take.

“Heyyyyy, Mando,” he draws out the greeting uncertainly, in a distinctly un-Boba-like fashion.

“Fett,” Din greets.

Boba tilts his head in confusion, even as he holds a hand out to Grogu–palm open, relaxed, and not poised to grab. “Sorry, you got the wrong guy. Name’s Kisser.”

It’s Din’s turn to tilt his head. Grogu babbles and slaps at the proffered hand happily.

“Buuur,” Grogu coos.

“Yeah, your buir’s got me mixed up with someone,” Kisser says, nonchalant despite not taking his eyes off Din. “Why’d you bring me here, youngling? Need some help?”

“He likes old Temples,” Din says, as if that explains anything.

Kisser glances around. “Ah, Force Nonsense.”

“You’re familiar with Jedi magic?” Din’s surprised. He doesn’t know many people who sound so confident when it comes to Grogu’s magic.

Kisser laughs and confirms, “Yeah, enough to know most of them will reflexively tell you it isn’t magic. Why? You need one?”

Din shakes his head. “The kid chose to stay with me, rather than his teacher.”

“Aww,” Kisser coos, turning to Grogu, “You really love your buir, huh?”

Grogu shrieks happily, tugging Kisser’s fingers as though to pull him closer to Din.

“Kid,” Din scolds, “Give him a minute.”

“Nahhh, it’s alright,” Kisser waves off Din’s protest, standing in a crouch so that Grogu can drag him over to Din. When Grogu lets go of his fingers in favor of clinging to Din’s shin, Kisser stands. He’s a little taller than Boba is, and younger. He doesn’t have the same scars, and his attitude is completely different as he smiles at Din. “Seems like your kid wants me to meet you properly.”

“Seems so.”

“Think I can head back the way I came?”

“Probably not.”

Kisser sighs, “Thought you might say that.” He opens a panel in his vambrace and taps at some kind of navigation unit. “Looks like we’re out in Mandospace too. You don’t happen to be on good terms with Kryze, by any chance?”

Din shrugs, “We didn’t part on good terms. You know her?”

“Not personally,” Kisser says casually, “But I heard a rumor my General was pretty close with her once upon a time. Thought she might be able to get a call out to him.”

“I got comms on my ship,” Din offers slowly.

Kisser looks up from his nav in surprise. “You sure?”

“Why not?” Din counters, curious.

“Mandalorians don’t like Jedi and Mandalorians don’t like Vode,” Kisser says, confident as though he’s listing simple truths of the universe. “Figured with a kid on board, you wouldn’t want me there.”

Grogu makes an affronted noise and starts crawling up Din’s leg. He snorts and picks up the little womp rat.

“There are a lot of different kinds of Mandalorians,” he says, as though he has always known this and it isn’t at all a recent revelation. He turns to lead the way to his ship.

“You know Jango Fett,” Kisser protests, even as he keeps pace. His tone is light, but the way he glances around for another exit betrays his hesitation.

“Don’t know a Jango,” Din corrects him, “Just Boba.”

Kisser looks startled, “How?”

“He took over Mos Espa on Tatooine.” Din shrugs.

“They let kids take over cities out there?”

“Kids?”

“He’s not even fourteen standard yet, is he?” Kisser protests, doing a quick count on his hands.

“He’s older than you,” Din says, baffled.

“Well yeah,” Kisser scoffs, as if it’s obvious, “But I know some Vode decanted around the same time as him, and they said he ages like a Human.”

Din eyeballs him, “And you’re not Human?”

“I’m a Vod,” Kisser eyeballs him right back. “A clone. Do you not get Republic news out here?”

“Which Republic?” Din says tiredly. There were so many ridiculous little governances since the Empire started shattering, how was he supposed to keep up?

“Which–?” Kisser splutters, coming to a stop in his shock. “The one that standardized Galactic Basic, also known as Republic Basic? The language we’re speaking?? Right now???” 

“I thought that was the Empire?” Din tries to reach back to the history lessons he got before he was adopted by the covert, but it’s too fuzzy.

“Empire?!” Kisser shrieks. Grogu makes soothing noises, a toddler’s imitation of what Din does to calm him down. His adorableness is wasted on the distracted adults. 

Din tilts his head. “They’re the largest single government in the galaxy?”

“The Republic is the largest single government in the galaxy!” Kisser says despairingly. 

They stare at each other.

“Clone like…the Clone Wars?” Din finally asks. He doesn’t really want him to answer.

Kisser, blessedly, doesn’t. “How old is Boba Fett, exactly?”

“Let’s go ask.”

The walk is tense and quiet, but they get back to the ship. When Boba answers the call, Kisser takes one look at him and is gone–armor falling to the floor, letting out a small puff of dust.

“What the hell was that, Djarin?” Boba demands.

“A Vod,” Din says, completely bewildered.

Grogu bursts into tears.

~+~

Day 11

[sirensplayhouse]

tw: r@pe and men

(this is long so just heads up! it’s a rant)

men piss me off so much bruh. i don’t know if you know but men are making jokes about raping women/child body. “pov the school shooter leaves you alive in a room full of dead women and/or with your crush” and they’re saying shit like “do it while it’s still warm” “going straight to the kindergarten area” “the dead children got me acting up” “it’s finally my chance to do it with my crush” and so much more worse. i genuinely can’t believe men are this disgusting, then they say it’s dark humor or just a joke.. like what’s so funny about raping women and children deads bodies? it scares me because these misogynistic disgusting men would probably do it irl if they have the chance.

they literally think necrophilia is ok. they think making rape jokes is ok because “it’s a joke” yet when someone did this about them they got pissed off 😐 they make all these jokes knowing full well they couldn’t last a day as a woman..

the fact they can even think of things such as raping a child, a woman or a dead body is just sickening. “it’s just a joke” but why would you even think about it? they had the fucking audacity to call us females sensitive and saying we don’t understand dark humor like... haha so funny, raping a dead body is hilarious and ok just because she’s your crush 😂😂 can’t believe they have that type of mindset and think it’s ok.

no because i was arguing with a person who supported these type of jokes and i accidentally used the wrong pronouns and they were like “why can’t you respect my pronouns.. it makes me uncomfortable” oh but you saying it’s ok to make jokes about raping a dead women/child’s body is ok? how are you gonna expect people to respect your pronouns when you can’t respect women.

what’s ironic is that they’re the same men to comment “not all men” “we’re not all the same” under a SA video.

and remember when men used to get upset because women would be like „all men are the same” or „kill all men” and they’d start throwing tantrums but when they do shit like this they think it’s funny.. what females said back then isn’t even remotely as bad as what they’re doing rn, they’re disgusting bruh. making rape jokes will never be funny nor okay, and they’ll realize that once they get a daughter. they swear it’s funny but they don’t have the balls to say it to their mom or sister so they KNOW it’s not ok 😐 we’re really just walking met to them, it’s genuinely disgusting.

trigger warning: mentions of rape and violence

honestly that’s beyond disgusting really and atp it’s a difference between men and little ass boys because ? real men wouldn’t even be having this conversation and would definitely fuck anybody up who agrees with that. the male species is honestly disappointing

[ofgentleresolve]

☀ About controversial topics in roleplay. Would you say there are obvious forbidden topics in roleplay or do you think we could go as far as we want considering it's all fiction? Where do you draw the line and is this line a different one from the one in the content we consume (I'm thinking of popular shows and movies with shock values that sometimes play on morally questionable topics yet are fully accepted/watched/enjoyed by the majority).

lynnie is letting me shoot myself in the foot ( ask me anything about rp meme w/ @uroborosymphony )

send a ☀ along with a roleplay related topic to hear my thoughts on it. Ask me anything!

LYNNIE!! First of all, excellent question, it’s one i’ve thought a fair bit about recently and while it looks straightforward, I’ve found?? It can be a lot more complicated than that, so thank you for enabling me and my rambling here-

So let me just start with saying that I’m not going to police people for what they write because if i did, i’d be miserable and i’d have no energy to focus on my own writing. If i see someone writing content that makes ME uncomfortable or upset, i leave or block, it’s not that hard. just tag your posts or let people know in your rules that you don’t tag triggers and you’ll be fine. 

Okay, now with that out of the way, i think when it comes to this conversation, the worst takes on this always come from individuals who fail to like…moderate their beliefs ( for example, yes this is all for fun so you should respond to things when you feel the most inspired, but if it’s to the point that you start threads and post memes that you NEVER reply to…well makes sense if people end up dropping you ngl :/ ) like yeah writing just happy and nonharmful things would be rather dull, but also when writing something that contains sensitive content, we need to be respectful because there are people in rl that are affected by this. Fiction may not be real, but reality informs the writer and therefore the fiction written which when consumed will affect reality in turn. That being said, i assume that people who write the say, more controversial topics know that it’s fiction and it should not be practiced in real life….that’s one of the things i feel like people forget? We’re not mindless sheep who agree with and take everything we watch as actual reality.

That being said, for me whether line differs between roleplay and forms of media like say, books and tv shows really comes down to intent. what is a reason for a controversial scene to be written- is there a point to be made, an intention behind it? if written with care and thought, books and tv shows can do it, but with roleplay unfortunately a lot of times what is written is usually purely for enjoyment? Not that a story or an intention can’t be attached to a roleplay, but since roleplayer they usually write for themselves, i assume that both parties enjoy what they’re exploring and writing….so when i see someone writing say, noIn-con for example, i can’t help but give the side eye: the difference between seeing this kind of scene in prose and in a roleplay is that if it is done well in prose, there is usually an intention behind it and the characters are developed beyond that event; the same can’t always be said in a roleplay. 

I will say though, regardless of the medium, it is perfectly possible to explore dark content in a respectful manner. When you write these topics, you can portray it without coming off as voyeuristic or trauma porn. For example, with say something like s*exu*al a*ss*ault, going into explicit detail is not necessary to explore the repercussions of such an event. ( of course media in general does not do a good job of this but that’s besides the point :/ )  But whereas in prose, a writer can gloss over the event, the problem in an rp thread is that you’re supposed to immerse yourself in your character’s head/environment…and some roleplayers do so for this kind of content in the name ‘character exploration’....which full offense, i don’t buy that.  

The other hard line i also will always draw is always with historical muses, specifically wwii muses or muses that commit crimes again humanity. Rp is a practice in empathy and so to see someone humanize individuals that have committed major war crimes and human atrocities makes me kinda pissed bc it might just be history to the writer, but for a lot of people, that history still affects them and their families to this day.

[heartscfvalor]

Hey so just a reminder, I have in my rules about my Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria for a reason. I’ve been spiraling on and off since 2020 by people ghosting me when I thought we were friends, because they refuse to communicate with me or they start off friendly and then start treating me like I’m an annoyance.

If I ever do or say anything that might annoy you, or hurt your feelings, or SOMETHING, I will never realize it in the moment. If you act like nothing is wrong, I will never know that something is wrong. Hurting people is never my intention and I’m trying so hard to make sure I don’t do that, because as a victim of abuse, I don’t want to hurt anyone at all.

Even if the matter is trivial, if you let it fester and begin to act cold or hostile towards me without telling me why, that’s hurting me too because I don’t know. How can I fix anything if no one communicates? We’re all adults here, and I’m exhausted of being the butt of some joke or written off as some bad person when I’m not given a chance to correct any mistakes and apologize.

It’s gotten to the point where I rarely reach out anymore or interact with anyone OOC because I am paranoid as fuck about triggering the wrong person without realizing it and losing yet another friend. For the love of god, communicate with me, I’m exhausted of walking on eggshells.

[ravenspeakrp]

Welcome to Raven’s Peak, Linda, we’re excited to have you. Jun Hwang (Demon, Song Kang) has been accepted. Please be sure to stop by the CHECKLIST for the follow list, tags to track, and other reminders.

OUT OF CHARACTER 

NAME: Linda PRONOUNS: She/Her  AGE: 30 TIMEZONE: EST TRIGGERS: -

IN CHARACTER 

FULL NAME: Jun Hwang SPECIES: Demon AGE: 30 DATE OF BIRTH: March 11th GENDER IDENTITY: Male NEIGHBORHOOD: Deadman Acres OCCUPATION: Groundskeeper/caretaker WORKPLACE: Hemlock Cemetery POSITIVE TRAITS: Sensitive, Dutiful, Hardworking NEGATIVE TRAITS: Clumsy, Vulnerable, Indecisive (Irritable, Paranoid, Reactive) LENGTH OF TIME IN RAVEN’S PEAK: His whole life; back from hell for about a month? FACE CLAIM: Song Kang

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: Domestic Violence, Abused, Death

Part I

Your birth was the end of my world.

That was something his dad never failed to remind him of for the next twenty plus years of his life. The very day that Jun was born, his mom, the love of his dad's life, died due to a complicated birthing process. People would tell him that it was not his fault because he was only a baby and had no say during the whole ordeal. Yet, from the mouth of Mr. Hwang, it was an entirely different story.

It started with verbal abuse. That, he took and not once tried to talk back because he truly believed that it was his fault. His fault, that his siblings grew up without a mom and his dad without his soulmate.

He truly believed that that was going to be his whole life. It wasn't until he joined the Ghost Under Oath as the band's bassist. Like the only gift from the universe, it was only by chance that he met them and soon, he even saw them more as his siblings than his actual ones.

Things would have been perfect if it was kept that way. Yet, it seemed like it was only a matter of time before his dad believed that verbal abuse was just not enough. It started with a backhand to the face. The sharp burn from his face was like a confirmation of his undesirable existence. Then it got to the point where he couldn't even hide what was happening to his bandmates. The last straw was threatening him to leave the band and he knew that enough was enough.

Finding the crossroad wasn't hard. Making a deal with a demon wasn't even the worst part. But watching the demon come for his dad wasn't what he had expected. Jun only wanted him to stop hurting him.

But the world was unfair and that's when he found himself in hell.

Part II

Human Jun was a weakling who allowed himself to be tortured by his father.

Demon Jun was different. Like a switch turned off, he was alert, almost like a resentful animal that lashes out when being poked at. He thought he was going to be stuck in hell forever. A never-ending cycle of torturing and being tortured.

But there was a crack. A crack that all the demons around him ran to - that he found himself running to as well. Before he knew it, he was back. A few years had apparently passed since that night and he found himself back at Raven's Peak... like the beginning of a new torture chapter.  

 EXTRAS

FILLING CONNECTION: yes - Banks Rainier's Band Mates  INSPIRATIONS: -

[verbo-s-e]

june 5, 2023 9:38 pm (pst)

i had so much more i wanted to add, but now i don’t know what to say or do. i’m second guessing. everything. if i were to zoom out as a third party spectator, i’d see a girl — mentally ill and too much love to give because she’s never had it herself. that makes me sad. embarrassed. sad again.

i’m afraid to fall asleep. i don’t say this to be dramatic. simply just a truth. because in sleep, i go far beyond any earthly or human realm/plane. there, we exist as two people who don’t have the weight of the world on our shoulders. we’re just us and not a square peg, round hole. we actually fit. we just exist peacefully within each others company. no labels of anything. just ourselves. it’s a recognition, a knowing i’ve felt since the moment we met.

i’ve always been sensitive to everything. a symptom/side effect of the life i was born into. but i’ve also, more importantly, been sensitive to the elusive. the strange forces that bind us as a human race. energy. vibes. whatever you wanna call it. i remember being so small and feeling things i had no business feeling. knowing things i had no business knowing, but did anyway. it’s a muscle i’ve grown my entire life and i trust it explicitly.

or, at least i used to. these days? i don’t know. it’s been a long time since i have. when everything fell apart the first time, i felt like i didn’t just lose you, but my intuition. my religion.

when our worlds collided, i felt and knew things i shouldn’t have known. trusted the universe with every molecule and atom in my body. can’t say it’s been exactly great, but even in the ‘losses’ i’ve gained profound abundance. those moments when we’re synced together hold so much magic for me. i know you know what i mean. for so long i begged you to see me. just once. to really see me. i feel like i should be used to not getting what i want but it doesn’t get easier. i think you did/have/do. but it scares you because maybe you see what i see too. i don’t say that out of projection, yet a deep deep knowing. i use that word a lot, knowing. but it’s true. my truth.

so sleeping: my favorite activity. used to be anyway. now, i dread it. i dread the dreams. the roller coaster rides i go on. i wake up more exhausted than when i went to sleep. this is the worst part of all of this. that in these moments, i want to say fuck it. i don’t need to break things off. if i can just get some sleep, and keep you close, i’ll make it work. i can make it work.

this is what we call the ‘bartering’ stage of grief, ladies and gentlemen.

i can’t make it work anymore. i’m so tired that my bones hurt. it’s dysfunctional.

during this last semester we explored a lot in abnormal psych. to the point where i got so wound up and triggered i almost dropped out again. it was a painful reminder of my own illnesses and hyperfixations and quirks and traumas and everything else. bpd? check. love addiction? check. depression? check. anxiety? check. ptsd? check. autism? check. check check check check check.

i really had to look at myself in the mirror and ask, ‘is my love - my experience- with and for this person, just a symptom of my fucking mental illness?’ let me tell you: that’s not a fun fucking feeling to sit in. and oh my god did i sit in it. so much mental laundry to sort that i’m STILL sorting. i’m still bartering. i’m still trying to fit a square peg in a round fucking hole. how do you separate the clinical and logical from the cosmic and spiritual? pro tip: you can’t.

and honestly, i’m too broken to try anymore. for any of it. i don’t want to hurt you. it hurts me knowing this might/will.

so which is it? am i right and an almighty powerful bad bitch who is psychic and connected to it all? or….. am i a severely mentally ill child trapped inside a 30 year old woman who suffers from grandiose delusions inside her fucked up head? my glib answer: both. i shrug tiredly. self awareness is a bitch and a half.

what we ‘are’ to each other will forever be unexplainable. maybe you agree, maybe you don’t. for me, this entire time has been me chasing that feeling — that fantasy — of what i felt/knew right at the start. that one day we could exist as just two people who just see lmk and know each other. without ever even speaking a word. am i giving this too much weight?

you’re overthinking again.

don’t worry, i can hear you say it too. to that i say you’re both right and wrong.

[newtonsheffield]

Impostor Syndrome and the feeling of being completely useless is such a real thing and it’s great that Anthony has someone to help him with it and he’s there for his son. As an ADHD person, it’s horrible when we see things that other people are doing without any effort at all and we’re just like “god why can’t I do that. Do I really have a problem or am I just too lazy or too stupid to do it?”

The world is so mean to us, I’ve listened to the most vile things at school, from actual adults, telling me just how I was lazy, I was stupid, I was faking it because I wanted an easy pass, that if I just tried harder I would be able to do the things I could do it because everybody did it and I’d go home and cry because I was trying my damn hardest and I probably was just stupid like people were saying. I had a school classmate tell the entire school they should stay away from me because I was crazy, since I took controlled psychiatric medication when I was 11.

ADHD is so much more than just lack of attention. It messes with the way you feel, the way you Interact with people. The world is not made for people like us and it fucking sucks. It took me YEARS to understand that it was not my fault and accept me l how I am.

I can totally imagine how hard it would be for Anthony, someone who felt it on his skin to have his kid go through the same feeling of helplessness he had to go through.

Can we see some badass protective dad Anthony from ATIM???

Ily, Molly ❤️

Ps: I miss offside lol

Ps2: the new chapter was amazing, I would like to personally murder Baz.

I think obviously this is something Anthony's really sensitive about, it's why he reacted so strongly when Kate implied that he should have known she wanted him to stay over because she offered it. And no, his ADHD isn't the reason he didn't pick up on it, but he felt that prickle of awareness that had been so frequent in his teen and childhood years. The feeling that everyone else knew something he didn't and he hated it. He hates being made to feel stupid.

And of course, once Kate realises this is a huge trigger for him, she'd never say anything like that ever again. In fact Anthony's heart fills with love when Kate gives him for his birthday one year, a recording of her reading his favourite book series. Because she knows how much it meant to him to feel seen when he read those books as a kid, and she's always laughed when Anthony had sighed You've got my favourite voice. And he also loves that Kate will sit down with him and, without blinking talk to him about the new techniques she's been reading about, and she doesn't do it slowly, or as if he's stupid, she talks to him as a professional equal. And he loves the way she loves their children, all of them, but especially the way she loves Miles with the same fierce intensity that she loves him. Crouched in front of Miles, her eyes locked with his while she gives him one clear instruction at a time, her smile so beautiful when she kisses his forehead. Milo, you are doing so well.

And he loves her for how fiercely she shakes her head when they get Miles' diagnosis, and Anthony feels those old insecurities claw at his throat and his wedding ring feels so tight on his hand, and he feels like she's stuck with him.

"Kate, I'm sorry, I'm- we should have- I don't want him to go through this. I don't want him to have to be like me."

Kate cut him off with her arms tight around his chest, tucking his face into her neck. "You are my favourite person, Anthony. If every child we had was just like you I would be so happy. And maybe it'll be hard for him but we are going to love and support him and look at how amazing you are. He'll be just like you."

It stings in his chest when he takes a shuddering breath and his hands still shake but he gets it out. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And yet it still stings when he overhears it. Not from children, who can be so cruel because they don't understand. But from parents who should know better.

"God, imagine being a doctor and having your kid struggling to read."

"The apple rolls away from the tree sometimes I guess." Another woman said before they both burst out laughing and Anthony snapped. But he crouched in front of Miles first.

"Hey, look at me, buddy."

Miles still stared down at his shoes, "Daddy, I'm sorry, I- I try. I'm trying but it's so hard."

"Hey, I know and you never have to be sorry for who you are okay? I love you, and Mummy loves you, and one day this is going to seem stupid but you aren't. Do you understand? Different isn't stupid."Miles nodded slowly, Anthony's heart pounding in his chest when he gave him a tight hug. "Go find Neddy and meet me at the car okay? It's just over there, Mummy's there with Charlotte."

Anthony waited as Miles sprinted off, his backpack jostling before he turned to the women, pretending not to listen a little awkwardly and tried not to let his voice shake.

"He's got dyslexia and ADHD, and even if he didn't want gives you the right to talk about my son like that? He's six years old! And he's struggling enough without people like you weighing him down."

"Well I-"

"It's just ignorant, educate yourself, and do better. You're adults and if you aren't old enough to know better, which I firmly believe you are: You're old enough to learn." He forced a smile on his face before he said "Have a nice weekend."

His heart was still pounding in his chest when he slammed the car door, his pulse hammering as Kate whispered. "I know this isn't the time but protective Papa Bear is your sexiest look to date."

And he can't help but grin when he turns to his wife and says- "Keep it in your pants Dr Sharma."

(Your classmate is a shitty person and I'm so sorry this happened to you. Ignorance is a disease man.)