#ava had it but she paid whoever got her out

[jonroxton]

Willia doesn’t understand that being in Detroit where everyone is trigger happy and confrontational is Raylan’s vacation. A whole army can come at Raylan and he’ll be fine so long as he’s not in Harlan.

[thatsgay-writes]

Hey! So I had an idea and I was wondering if you would consider writing it. It's a Beatrice X Reader.

It's just after the final battle of season 1. Mary and Reader being the badasses they are fought together. Mary died. Reader didn't. It's around 6 months after( I don't really know the timeline) , anyway Adriel and his supports took Reader and basically toured her for info and anything they could use against the 'Warrior Nun' and being the person Reader never said anything, no matter how bad it got they kept their mouth shut. Eventually Adriel left, he knew R wouldn't speak but he found joy in keeping his supporters there (basement) where she was held so that they could continue hurting her. It's a day or two after Adriel left and word got out they something was important there but Ava , Beatrice , Camilla and whoever you want there didn't know what. When they get there they don't find anything and they are about to leave when they hear punches and shouts from a group of people. They go to the basement and they see 3 or 4 men kicking punching and slicing with a knife (if you want) against someone they can't really see because it's too dark (Reader could be strapped to a chair or hung from their wrists from the ceiling). A few seconds later, all of the men r down. They get closer Camilla turns in the lights and they see Reader. Shock. Gasps. (you know absolute shockkkk) they thought R died with Mary. Moving Reader to the amazing van they have. Reader is unconscious at this point. They tend to her wounds like loads of wounds- stab wounds-slice wounds-bruises and scars. R wakes up and has a heartfelt reunion and you can decide how that plays out. If this is uncomfortable for you, you don't have too right it, just an idea I had because I love myself an angst,love ending story!! :)

Not ProofRead, Off The Dome

Days bled into weeks, blurred into months as you hung from the ceiling. It was routine by now, wake up, get hung by the ceiling from your wrist, get tortured for information, get unhooked, and then repeat it all the next day. Sometime you wish you had taken Mary's place or been by her side as you bled out together instead of being forced to watch as the life drained from her eyes. The first days of your torture hadn't been that bad by standards. You were hit a few times, pushed around but nothing seriously damaging. Until the big bad, Adriel, paid a visit to get information out of you. Knives, tasers, even a few well placed gun shots were used almost everyday. Your hands were numb and blue by the time you were taken down from the ceiling and you were healed as much as possible each night. It was always the same set of questions, "Where is the Warrior Nun hiding? What is her weakness? How long will it take for her to come for you?"

You never answered any of the questions, you barely spoke and if you did it would be something along the lines of a fuck you or just straight up calling Adriel a bitch. In your head though, you were begging for either freedom in the form of escape or death. You had lost hope that your friends would come for you or that they even knew you were alive. Even after a while the thought of Beatrice coming to rescue you dwindled away. You hadn't seen Adriel in a few days, so you figured he left, but the beatings and torture stayed almost consistent. Clearly, Adriel had left specific instructions on how to handle you this time rather than just leaving it up to the Firstborn Children.

---

Beatrice sat in the back of the slightly sexual puff pastry truck as Yasmine drove them all to a secret building they had uncovered by getting information from a member of the Firstborn Children. She stared at a small photograph of the two of you from your first anniversary, almost five years ago. Beatrice wishes that she could go back in time and relive those years all over again. She'd make sure to hold onto you tighter, spend all her time with you, maybe she'd even ask you to marry her, just to spend a few years in complete bliss. But now you were gone and Beatrice felt cold and alone. She wasn't alone in a literal sense, Ava sitting next to her, Camila across, and Mother Superion and Yasmin in the passenger and driver seat but in her heart. She always felt this constant coldness that couldn't be taken away with a cozy blanket or hot chocolate, the only time it ever felt warm was when she was asleep and dreaming of you or reliving memories. Only to wake up the next day, cold. Beatrice had always been the one to think through things and go into fights logically but if this building was as important to Adriel as the Firstborn Children said, she wanted to to tear it apart and burn it to the ground.

---

Beatrice was pissed, this whole excursion had felt like a waste of time. Not only was the building huge, it looked and felt abandoned. There were no secrets in this building, the Firstborn Children must've just used this as a distraction. Camila could feel the frustration rolling off of Beatrice and she felt terrible for the older girl. It was clear how much everything had taken a toll on her. It was clear from the beginning that Beatrice, Mary, Shannon, Lilith and you had been the unofficial Warrior Nun dream team. But now you, Shannon, and Mary were dead and Lilith had disappeared. Beatrice was the last one standing and even Camila could see she barely was.

They were about to give up their search of the building when Camila hears a faint noise coming from down the hall. She peeks her head out of the room they all stood in and she could see a faint, barely there, glow of light. "Guys!" She whispered to her fellow nuns and gestured towards the door and the light. All of her friends tensed and instantly got into a formation as they made their way down the hall. Coming up to the door it was slightly left open, allowing Beatrice to see into the room. "They're torturing someone, this must be why this building is so important... I see nine people in total. Ready?" Beatrice asks, not really waiting for an answer as she kicks down the door and enters the room, cutting out the lights so the men were more confuse and unable to see.

---

"I think that's all of them." Ava says as she catches her breath. All the men they fought were uncharacteristically big and bulky, which Beatrice had failed to mention. "All right, let's see who all this fuss is about." Ava says as she moves in front of your body, Beatrice and Camila were standing by the door keeping look out. "Beatrice hit the lights please... Thank-" As soon as Beatrice flips the switch, Ava's heart stops. There you were. Head hung, hands slightly blue, blood dripping from one of your many injuries onto the floor but alive. "Camila help me quick!" Ava yells as she grabs a chair in the corner of the room so she can get you untied from the rope. "What? Who is-" Camila lets out an audible gasp as you come into view. She helps Ava untangle you and lower you to the floor. "Beatrice cover our front and Yasmin help us get them out of here!" Ava commands, she couldn't let Beatrice see you till they were out of the building. She knew Beatrice would freeze and that's not something they could afford right now.

---

"Are they okay?" Beatrice asks now that they are comfortable back in the truck and on the road. Ava and Camila share a look, how do they explain who they found. Yasmin just looks a little confused at the two's silence. Ava nods her head towards Camila who returns the nod in understand. She gets up and walks to the front of the truck. "Beatrice, I need you to look at me." Beatrice turns towards Camila with a confused look, why was she being so serious? "You have the most knowledge on medicine, which is why I am begging you to not let feelings get in the way for right now. Once we get to out hideout you can feel whatever you need to feel but I am begging you right now to let logic and reason take over." Beatrice stands, well as much as she could in the truck as she swaps places with Camila, scared to know why she said that. But the second she see your face, it takes everything in her to not fall to her knees and cry and beg for you to wake up. Her mouth feels dry as she swallows and pushes everything to the back of her mind, this was you. She thought you were dead but now you're not and she wasn't going to let you bleed out and be taken from her again.

---

You feel warm as you wake up, which was concerning. You could feel the blanket laid across you and the soft bed and pillow under you as you opened your eyes. Sun was streaming through a window and into the room and you were sure you were dead. You finally gain the strength to sit up and you can feel all the aches and pains and the tightly wrapped bandages that cover your body. Ok, maybe you weren't dead but you were highly confused. You shakily get out of bed and look at the clothes that were put on you. Normal things, pants, a shirt, socks, nothing crazy but what did get you to freeze was the scent coming off the clothes. You hold the hem of the shirt up to your face and you can feel your eyes watering, it smells like Beatrice, it smells like home. With a newfound vigor, you walk as fast as you can from the room, ignoring the way you have to favor your right leg. You could here conversations and laughs the farther into the house you get and the more excited you feel.

Could this be a new way of torture created by Adriel so that your dreams were no longer safe? Yes. Did you care in that moment? No. You reach a large set of double doors, the only thing left blocking you from, who you hope is real, Beatrice. You take a deep breath as you attempt to fix your shirt and hair, like Beatrice hasn't seen you at your worst and open the door. The silence to your arrival was daunting, luckily almost everyone looked familiar and grew smiles on their faces at the sight of you. But the person you were mainly concerned for looked like she could cry, "Bea." You let out breathlessly as you feel all the hope you had lost return to you instantaneously. You take one step into the room before Bea is closing the distance and pulling you into her arms, mindful of your injuries. "Is this real? Please tell me this is real." You say to her over and over again as you cry into her shoulder. She pulls back from the hug to take you face into her hands. "This is real, I promise. And I am never letting you out of my sight again." You can see the way Beatrice's eyes look at you like your the most important thing in the world and you know that your not dreaming and you know she will stick to that vow. "Good." Is all you can say as you lean forwards for a kiss and thank any and every high-power that there is that you were back in Beatrice's arms.

[choices-binglebonkus]

Things ILITW did right:

-The cast. The cast was fucking incredible. They all had their own unique problems and we got to glimpse into their lives by playing as them. Additionally, there wasn’t anyone in the group I didn’t like. Lily was my least favorite but even she was a likable character.

-Dan. Dan doesn’t get a lot of screentime, and even though he’s technically a member of the main gang, he’s more of a side character. But PB still made me fall in love with his storyline. It really resonated with me. He was clearly grappling with the trauma from Jane’s death years and years into the future, but since he was the star football quarterback, he felt he couldn’t show any signs of weakness or ask for help. If he survives the final encounter with Jane, he becomes a trauma counselor, and he seems so much happier and more at ease with himself. I love that for him.

-Jane. It’s already been established that I’m terrible at predicting twists, but finding out that Jane was the monster all along at the end of chapter 14 shocked me to my core. I remember yelling at the revelation, I was so surprised. I was both amazed and appalled that Jane was the cause of all the chaos, violence, and terror throughout the story. Jane was the perfect villain.

-The vibe. The vibe is more creepy (while ILB is just outright scary and goes straight for the fear factor) and I think this book really benefitted from the creepiness rather than forcing sheer terror upon us in the first book.

-The lore. ‘Nuff said.

-The pets! We get a baby crow FOR FREE, can babysit Hilda (good fluffy dog!), can get an adorable black kitten, AND can even get a vine monster pet!

-The love interests. In my opinion, all the love interests are fairly equal to each other (except Andy, who blows the rest of them away because he is FANTASTIC). I’m pretty sure most of them get equal amounts of scenes and the nerve boosts make them OP as hell.

-The shed. I loved getting to go to the shed in the chapters for weapons, the lore documents, the pets, clues, and what have you. It was nice that it actually served a role in the story.

-The outfits. There wasn’t a single outfit in MC’s closet I didn’t like. And, while I’m on the topic of the outfits, I also appreciate the lack of outfits. There are only three times in the story where we’re presented with the option to buy outfits. The beginning, before Britney’s party, and before homecoming. That’s it. The clothes and outfits aren’t constantly hawked at us for purchase, unlike...other stories.

-The cast deaths. This is a little morbid, but I thought the ways the main cast died were honestly kind of cool, and I liked how some of their causes of death also reflected key points of the story. Ava being toyed with and flung around to her death like how she used her powers, Andy being torn apart from the inside by spiders, Lily being picked apart by birds, it was morbid and creepy and gross and I loved it. The art team drawing the cast’s dead bodies at the end for maximum shock impact was also a nice touch, and I kinda wish they did that for ILB.

-The nerve. I think the nerve loss/gain was pretty on-point in this book. Nerve loss was kind of big, I will admit, but it was usually pretty easy to get lost nerve back. On my first playthrough with no diamond purchases, not a single character died.

-The memorial. Seeing all the different dialogue outcomes when the entire group is dead or when only one person is dead, or when Noah survives or MC survives, there was obviously a lot of thought put into the memorial. It was very heartbreaking and very well done.

-The music. What a bop.

-The plot. The plot was very well paced, and every chapter contributed pretty evenly to the plot. In other words, filler in this book was at an all-time low. The only chapter that was kind of filler-y was the homecoming chapter, but that was to trick us into thinking the fight was over.

-The romance. As I’ve mentioned before, It Lives has a very, very high stakes plot. This inevitably led to the romance/dating features taking a backseat to the main plot, which of course, was necessary. It doesn’t make sense having romance as the main focus when a homicidal shadow monster is hunting you and your friends down, after all.

-The mental health and trauma mentions. Overall, mental health and trauma can be kind of tricky to talk about, and need to be handled very carefully. I felt that ILITW was very respectful and careful in that regard, and mentions of mental health were handled as realistically as they could be in a supernatural horror story.

Things ILITW really could’ve improved:

-Lily, Ava, and MC. Lily, Ava, and MC’s storylines felt considerably weaker than the rest of the cast. The storylines just felt...lacking. All three were bullied by Jocelyn, Britney, and Cody, though Lily and MC got the brunt of it. Ava’s storyline mainly focused on gaining and losing her powers, which wrapped itself up within 3 or 4 chapters. The bullying plot ended after chapter 7 when Cody died and wasn’t really mentioned again, and Lily’s storyline shifted its focus onto her relationship with Britney. MC felt more like a self-insert than an actual character throughout most of the story (ILB MC definitely felt like more of a character). Not to say they were a bad character, but they were definitely lacking.

-The nerve checks. Unlike ILB, the ILITW nerve checks didn’t really do anything. At least, not until the final game with Jane. In ILB, you paid the price if your friends didn’t pass the nerve checks spread throughout the conflicts. If Tom fails his nerve check, your MC loses a finger, nerve, and Tom suffers a breakdown. Danni betrays the group if she doesn’t pass hers. Imogen’s isn’t terribly high stakes, but she does lose her connection to the power if she doesn’t pass the nerve check. Parker accidentally shoots Kelley and abandons the group forever if he fails his. Failing the first group nerve check will cause Tom to snap and cause a massive argument. Failing the second group nerve check will result in the death of whoever has the lowest nerve. In ILITW, nerve checks simply yield different dialogue, and at the end, determine whether a character will live or die, though this seems to be partially randomized.

-The flashbacks. Maybe it’s just me, but I felt like there were too many flashbacks, and that some of them could’ve been lumped together.

-The side characters. Personally, I find that the side characters in stories are the most interesting. Unfortunately, most of the side characters didn’t get a lot of development and were used simply as plot devices or character development for the main cast. Jocelyn, Britney, Cody, and even Ben could’ve been fleshed out much more. Tom was also severely lacking in development in ILITW, but he was upgraded to a main cast member and love interest in ILB, so that problem solved itself.

[lucidpantone]

Reacting to reactions: Kynicole s4 ep1 (comments edition)

Okay, so you know when something comes out and you need to talk about it with other humans because you can’t hold it in?  This is me right now with the youtube comments on kynicole’s reaction video. I am about to burst 🤯.

**First and foremost lets thank kynicole for doing what most of us aren't willing to do for ourselves which is revisit the trainwreck that is wtFOCK s4.**

Disclaimer: This is long as hell

Ok so literally first comment I see is this:

People!!! Moyo from all the information we’ve been given as a fandom am pretty sure is not blocked. You know that saying, actions speak louder than words?Well let's analyze the actions of wtFOCK(particularly Rutgers) and Noa. I have asked sooo many people about the block question and I always get the same answer “I don’t know”. Which coupled with everything else that has played out tells me a lot. Ok firstly, we are all aware that wtFOCK is yet to comment on or even acknowledge s4. The newsmonkey article wtFOCK did after every season they skipped entirely after s4. You know what wtFOCK did do? They sent out Nora b4 s4 even ended to calm down the fandom. Oh lets send the WOC out to quell the screams from all the fans that are screaming at the injustice of giving this season to Romi(who was a way less experienced actor, who had no previous backstory on the show, who no one asked for, who was white, a legitimate model, and to put it simply didn’t work anywhere near as hard as Noa for 3 seasons). Anyways here is why I am pretty sure Moyo isn't block.

Think about everything we know about Noa as a human being the way he treats the fans, his demeanor and just overall vibe. To me he seems like a very nice person, he writes back to most of you guys when you talk to him. I saw him comment heart emojis to fan accounts that commented on his award acceptance the other day and you know what he said at the award “That the fans are the most important thing”. Now connect the Noa we know from his actions to his own words on the day the main was revealed:

To me this tweet implies whatever he is speaking about involved a choice and the chooser chose to make money over morality. Now lets exam Rutgers actions. He has never publicly spoken about the season and the reason I believe he doesn't speak is because any decent journalist is going to ask him to explain his casting choice. Also your telling me that if Moyo had been blocked after week 4,5,6,7,8 of having the fandom hurl insults at wtfock and also Romi calling a meeting they wouldn't have used their end of the season interview to confirm Moyo wasn’t an option to shut the fandom up? Oh and last week Noa accepted the award for wtfock and Rutgers posted Noa on his story??? Moyo wasn’t the main of s4. Wouldn't it make sense to have a main accept the award? Why Noa? Rutgers is not stupid. I don’t believe for one second that Moyo was blocked. What I believe is that wtFOCK’s leadership who happens to all be white men are to embarrassed to go on the record and say “yeah Moyo wasn’t block but we still didn’t chose him” and that instead of giving the season to Noa who worked his ass off for 3 seasons they gave it to Romi because they thought “her look” was more appeasing to advertisers. Her look was obviously what sold them on her because next to Noa we know who the better actor was and Noa literally landed a feature film to prove that. Anyways everyone needs to stop pushing this idea that Moyo was blocked because if you actually look at everyone’s actions involved its pretty clear to me he wasn't blocked and Rutgers and the team are refusing to confirm what to me is fairly obvious answer because they know they are going to get fucking dragged. Also whoever this commenter is they know what's up. I agree with everything you stated:

☝️☝️☝️Say it louder sis. wtFOCK bypassed Noa on purpose they chose to do what they did to him. I do genuinely believe they regret the decision now because from everything I heard I really do believe they wish they could go back and chose Noa but the damage is done. 

Next YT comment:

You know when early on in the season a bunch of POC said that this season was merely a platform to embolden and give free reign to those who already harbored racial micro-aggression 👇👇👇

Oh surprise, surprise..... this commenter sees no redeeming qualities in both black boys who in their respective remakes are written as being homophobic, with undertones of aggression and as bad friends. Oh and then this commenter points out how poor Moyo treated Kato. Bwahahahaha what?? Yea Moyo insulted Kato but he never accused her of being a drug dealer, or implies she has a drug problem, or racially profiles members of her community or manipulates her with saying I love you as a form of keeping her but Moyo treats Kato badly. GTFO!!! I am sure this commenter is a Mailin stan too and would say Ava isnt someone she would be interested in seeing main either. Wonder what all these characters have in common🤔. This type of commentary is what created the divide that still resides in the wtfock fandom to date. This shit is what tore the fandom apart and eventually led people to leave the fandom or take time off because people went for each others throats as the season got worse and those who defended wtfock at the beginning were eaten alive. Honestly tho I dont want to excuse people’s troublesome povs on race but wtFOCK’s decision to make a season where their white main never fully apologizes or owns her behavior with the appropriate language perpetuates a pattern of bad behavior so am kinda of not shocked no one came out with some insight on race relations after s4 if anything probably with less of an education then they began with because wtfock themselves peddled the agenda that its ok to silence people of color (as they did with moyo at the end of the season, he never says his piece to kato and stays with her) and Kato never takes ownership of her actions and states that her actions stem from some form of racial micro-aggression.

Final Comments reviewed:

I mean.... look I will always adore season 2 & 3 of wtfock. Nothing will ever change that for me but these people ☝️☝️are right. It takes a real fan to be honest with themselves and to me this is the worse season in the universe and it makes me so sad mainly because it could have been the most fearless, ground breaking season but wtfock made a choice. They literally had the opportunity to go big and do something that had never been done before and in the end they choked and paid the ultimate price. What a waste.......could have been amazing the had the perfect actor to main and they fucking blew it because in their mind Moyo wasn't an important enough story to tell 😞.

p.s. I noticed kynicole said at least half a dozen times in her video I still dont get why this wasn’t in Moyo’s pov? Literally said EVERYONE!!!

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

The Journals Of Derek Grady Part 1

This is a story set within my Bioshock Rebirth AU. A reimaging/reboot of the Bioshock franchise. https://geekgemsspookyblog.tumblr.com/post/626141727587270656/bioshock-rebirth-timeline-this-is-a-timeline-of-an Just as a heads up if anyone is wondering about the context. I’ve had some stories in my drafts for a long time now and I’m finally publicly sharing them.

I made a post talking about this. There is this character named Derek that was in one of my pilot stories for this AU. But I felt strangely ashamed of how I wrote him. But I’d feel it’s best to use him in better context. In something very intriguing. Mainly the point of view of the Rapture Civil War from someone who fought in it. 

There is this silly theme of certain characters being named Derek in some AU’s of mine. Usual they are men that seem well intentioned, but their mind isn’t always in the best place. I’m just gonna make this because this is something I wanna make.

This was first started/made on December 23rd 2020. I’m not gonna have this beta read. It’s time I just upload this shit. I got the two tags done with. But I would like to mention I was heavily or so inspired by the Star Wars Battlefront 2 Classic story. Especially with the first journal from this character being inspired by the, “Knightfall” level. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lgG2ENW5Ac Spoilers ahead.

12/31/2001. The attack on the Kashmir restuarant.

I was a young kid when I first arrived in Rapture. I was naïve like many others. Many of used to believe in Andrew Ryan’s so called, “Great Chain”, until things started to fall apart. Especially after the death of scumbag Frank Fontaine. I find it funny he tried to put on a nice guy act whenever he met someone new or when he was in public, but I’ve heard the stories. The stories of the type of man he was.

But after Ryan nationalized Fontaine Futuristics in January 1999, a lot of people weren’t happy. It was surprising how long it took something to happen. So much dividing of social classes, so much shit that had happened during those years. What was gonna happen tonight would change everything forever...

I’ve been on Atlas’s crew of bandits since July. I felt joining Atlas was the best decision I made in my entire life. Because I felt I fighting for the right thing, a good cause. But what Atlas had planned sounded to me almost like terrorism. 

Yet when I thought about it, I really thought hard to myself. After everything we’ve suffered, how Ryan started to push everyone away, how he tried keep himself in power. Even though Rapture was supposed to be the perfect paradise...Andrew Ryan, Brigid Tenenbaum, Augustus Sinclair, Sander Cohen, Yi Suchong, Sofia Lamb, and so many others...how they treated us.

First it was just riots, but now it was time for Ryan and everyone who supported him knew what we were. What we stood for. They were gonna find out we weren’t some bandits who kidnapped some rich assholes to get payback or robin hood archetypes helping poor folks. 

There was no more talk for peace. Because Ryan never gave a damn...he never did.

1/31/2002. The Civil War starting. Apollo Square. Atlas and crew.

It’s been a month since we launched an attack on Kashmir. Things started to really change because the war for this city finally had truly begun. I have never been in war, but with the skills I’ve learned from Atlas and Daisy. I’d felt I was ready, because I needed to be. Not many of us were actual soldiers. But that didn’t matter to us. We knew what had to be done.

But we didn’t knew that Ryan would try to make Apollo Square a prison camp. Yet that didn’t matter, when those so called security officers first started to set people ablaze when they tried escaping. We shot any who would tried to do such things again. When they were hanging people, we fought back because we got tired of their bullshit. We didn’t fuck around. I felt proud when I shot one of those damn officers in the head. 

Apollo Square was practically our paradise. Sure Ryan’s army kept trying to get in, yet we always defended it. Yet even without Ryan, we still had others to worry about.

I feel pretty damn grateful a lot of our weapons were smuggled from the surface. We kept some of the weapons Ryan’s men had as well. 

But I think what I felt more grateful was our leaders. Daisy Fitzroy was practically Atlas’s 2nd in command. She was a tough woman, she didn’t take shit. Considering she worked for that weird kinky lady known as Ava Tate, I can’t blame her becoming that. She’s one of the bravest and smartest women I’ve fought with. I’m surprised she didn’t form our rebellion first.

Bill was lucky enough to be convinced by Atlas to join us after he resigned from the council. But Bill was like us. Even though he believed in Rapture, he was just an old man who wanted the best for people. I found that admirable of him. I also think he’s grateful we hid his ass after he left Ryan. Considering how Ryan gets upset with whoever betrays him, he’d rather want them dead...yet that might of been different considering he was best friends with Ryan himself. 

Diane was new, she was a hostage once with Julie Langford. But when Ryan never paid her ransom and practically didn’t care for her. But I do think she noticed those Jasmine Jolene posters throughout the city, making Ryan’s betrayal seemingly more worse. She originally came to Apollo Square to yell at us of how we possibly ruined her life. But when she saw the shit we were going through, she soon understood even more of the situation. Especially when we heard it wasn’t made better when hearing Ryan’s thoughts on people like us.

She joined us rather quickly, she was like Bill in a way. Diane was honestly a kind woman, it always felt nice to have more supporters. I do find it surprising from what I’ve seen that her and Daisy seemed to have developed a thing. Yet I found it surprisingly adorable...mainly because it was so strange to see Daisy seem soft to another person. But I think it gave the ladies more of a reason to keep fighting on.

But Atlas...he was something else. There was a reason people followed him. I followed him for plenty of good reasons. He seemed like a action hero you see out of those films from Hollywood. But I have never met a man so kind, yet so humble. He was the best of us...or that’s what I thought. You can have a good laugh with him too while having a drink. The man had a family, but he didn’t spoke of them much to keep them safe. I also remember hearing he was a captain in the Irish army. Which gave us an advantage in some ways over Ryan’s men.

He was the perfect anti-thesis to Andrew Ryan. Atlas was someone many genuinely respected and loved. Men wanted to be him, women loved him. To me and others. He wasn’t just a friend. Atlas was sometimes like a brother, or even a father.

Sure he wasn’t perfect and did some questionable things. But we knew it was for the best. Atlas is our best shot at winning this war. And I’m proud to fighting side by side with him, no matter what. 

2/1/2002. Johnny Topside.

I never met the man, but Atlas knew him only for a year. The way he talked about Johnny. I’ve heard stories of him, well that’s because Atlas didn’t want his memory to die. Atlas said Johnny Topside was a diver who had discovered Rapture years ago and for sometime was forced to live in Rapture until he finally had enough. 

Johnny Topside was the start of our rebellion. He was the one that planted the seeds. Johnny was the first to stand up to Ryan, but it resulted in tragedy. No one knows fully what happened to him. But Atlas said Ryan had tried to erase Johnny’s memory from history, and that it was very likely he may of been turned into...a Big Daddy...the idea of that horrifies me.

When Atlas spoke of him, he spoke of him so highly. Saying that Johnny was like a younger brother to him. You could of even seen at times Atlas nearly choked up when talking about him. I can’t blame him, losing someone that was like a brother to him. I’ve would of been nearly tearing up.

The story of Johnny Topside was something that kept us going, it inspired us. Hell, it even inspired me. Atlas didn’t want his memory to die, because what he was doing wasn’t just for everyone. But it was also justice for Johnny...justice for everyone that had enough of Ryan.

My only disappointment is that I never got to meet Johnny...because when Atlas says he’d would rather had him lead us...that says a helluva lot about Topside.

2/3/2002. Booker Dewitt and Ryan’s personal guard.

I’ve heard the stories of Dewitt...he merely sounded like a ghost. But he wasn’t. This was the man that shot down Fontaine, and most likely helped captured Johnny Topside.

Captain Dewitt was known to the citizens as, “The Grim Reaper Of Rapture” and he damn well earned it. But he was also Ryan’s new best friend after Bill left. Dewitt kept Ryan’s enemies in check. Whether by killing them when no one was looking, or capturing them. 

Security was fine, but Ryan’s personal guard and when Dewitt was leading them...that was scary. I think what scared us rebels was whenever he showed up. He always wore that mask...which gave him more of a reason to call him a grim reaper...because he damn sure was.

Ryan’s personal guard weren’t just police officers enforcing Ryan’s rule, they were literal soldiers. They were formed when Johnny Topside had discovered Rapture. The guard was basically a better version of security.

They were made up of men who either genuinely believed in the, “Great Chain” or just were looking to be paid by Ryan. Some of them were ex soldiers, mercenaries, and they were all just horrible people. 

The guard weren’t pushovers, they had years of experience or training by Dewitt. They were merciless, brutal, and effective. The fact Ryan had now decided to use them even more now showcased he truly wasn’t fucking around anymore. He wanted to win this war. But we weren’t gonna let that happen.

I think we were just thankful they didn’t really use Plasmids...if they did...then I felt this war may be over already. But it also gives us a easier chance to kill them all.

2/15/2002. Splicers.

Over the years since ADAM was discovered. Splicers became thing. Poor folks who used too spliced too much...they were once people...but they were sadly monsters now. I think what surprised us is how some of them were on our side...but not many. Unless they controlled themselves.

The Splicers of many types were a pain in the ass for Ryan and Atlas. Killing the rebels or Ryan’s personal guard. They had no allegiance...all they wanted was ADAM...they were basically drug addicts. I remember seeing one time a woman shanking a man for his ADAM, we had to put her down.

I didn’t really use Plasmids much, or some of the others like Atlas, Daisy, Diane, and Bill. It seemed good for Atlas that some of the rebels didn’t try to splice up. Which meant we can deal with less people turning into those...things.

There was one time I had to put down one of them. The man was just 21, but he had spliced up so much that he had gone insane. He tried attacking Daisy and Diane, but me and Daisy took him down shot him in the chest. But he was still breathing.

...I shot him in the head...I hesitated at first for about five seconds...he was younger than me. I wanted to make his death as quick and painless...it gave me a haunting reminder of why we were still fighting. All this pain and suffering...it started with the discover of that damn thing called ADAM...

I’m surprised I haven’t spoken about Tenenbaum yet...I feel like she was 2nd in place for me to kill after Ryan.

3/15/2002. Big Daddies, Little Sisters, and Brigid Tenenbaum.

I think the other thing that haunts me a lot and so many others is these two...I’ve seen them countless times and I have fought them when I joined Atlas.

Big Daddies are practically these...monsters that used to be people...slaves to protect what were once literal children...

These monsters looked like literal giant diving suits at times...some had drills, some had guns. They were tough sons of bitches. These things could kill a man easily, or even a group of a men if you weren’t careful. 

But it’s the Little Sisters that horrify me and other rebels...not because they are dangerous or that they are killers. It’s the fact of what they are. They were children...or possibly still are...forced to collect ADAM because they were implanted with some...damn sea slug Tenenbaum discovered...

There is no known cure for them. I think many of us want a cure. But the only way to help these girls is something horrific...harvesting them. Atlas said it was to put them out of their misery. They had ADAM in them.

From what I’ve seen, some rebels harvested them, some didn’t. Daisy didn’t do it. Neither did Diane or Bill. I remember seeing Atlas making the most sickened face after harvesting one, he didn’t enjoy it at all.

I think it may of bothered Atlas some didn’t harvest them...but it’s understandable why some wouldn’t. Because I remember seeing one 37 year old man, after he had harvested just one Little Sister. The man about 5 minutes later literally put a pistol under his jaw and killed himself.

We all understood why he even did that. Because after you witness a child being horrified by you about to harvest them...it’s a sight you’re never going to forget.

I can still hear those girls screaming. Daisy and Diane do too...it’s in our nightmares. For some reason...the harvesting of a Little Sister scars me than seeing a Splicer or whatever else...I don’t know why...I think it’s because all that innocence was lost...or actually taken. Because there was no other way to help them.

It was all because of one woman, Brigid Tenenbaum. I heard she worked with Frank Fontaine to help make those girls into what they are. I’ve heard she’s had a hard life, but that doesn’t excuse what I find one of the most horrific crimes I’ve ever seen. She’s been in hiding for 4 years after being exposed for what she did.

If we ever find Tenenbaum...I want to put my foot on her throat...whatever what we want to do to her. To be honest, I think I want to kill her more than Ryan...because I don’t know how you can be forgiven for doing that to a child.

God forgives, and whenever I have to put down a fellow rebel because they spliced up too much, I make it quick and painless as possible...but Tenenbaum...quick and painless is not gonna mean anything if we ever find her. 

6/3/2002. SOS and Archie Wynand.

After six months of war with Ryan’s personal guard and the Splicers. Whether some were controlled or not...things were going south for us. We fought hard, we planned as best as we could. But nothing was working, because Ryan was nearly winning.

There was panic among us, we were fearing that all of this could be for nothing. But Atlas revealed something, which he said was a risk in case. He somehow gave an SOS message to the surface to whoever would get it. Because he knew we weren’t gonna win this on our own anymore. We needed help, we needed the surface to discover Rapture. But also, we needed someone to help us take down Ryan. It was on Sunday Atlas gave out the message for help. We prayed someone would answer it. Luckily for us, someone did answer it.

Despite his aircraft was shot down by Ryan, and being the only survivor of his squad. Someone had arrived. That someone was a young man named Sergeant Archie Wynand. An Army Ranger sent by the US Government to discover where the SOS came from. 

To be honest, I was worried by the fact only one man had survived. I’d feared we still didn’t stand a chance. But after I saw that man enter combat and killed so many Splicers, I have never seen a man fought hard like that. He was still young like me, but he was like a commando in his way. It was as if someone like Atlas again had come to save us. 

Me and him never really talked, but from what I’ve seen. That man is the bravest soul I’ve ever seen. He’s loyal to a fault and unbreakable, it was like seeing a warrior unlike any other. I will admit, I felt a bit jealous when Atlas has giving him a lot more attention than me. 

But Archie was important. Atlas sent him commands and he followed through. But I think what confused me the most was something Atlas had revealed earlier. Which resulted in ordering Archie to go to a certain building, a tower in the middle of Rapture. 

6/4/2002. Elizabeth.

A day before Archie had arrived. There was this strange new information Atlas had discovered. That there was some girl in this tower in Rapture. Her name was Elizabeth. Atlas had discovered it when raiding a building near that tower. 

We were so confused on why Ryan had a girl in this tower. In fact? Why was she there? Who was she really? Even Atlas was confused, but she seemed important.

But I feel our questions were answered when Archie saved her. I didn’t get to talk to her personally, but I have seen her in action with my own eyes. Along with some footage. 

Somehow, this young girl had some powers of an unknown source. She was able to summon old sentries, and other things. It felt unnatural. Sure the Plasmids and other discoveries in Rapture were very special...but what this girl could do...it made us question even more who the hell she was and why Ryan had her locked away.

Gonna admit though, she was honestly adorable.

6/5/2002. Elizabeth’s purpose, and what the Hell is Archie? What the Hell is going on?

I think it horrified me and the rebels of what Elizabeth was supposed to be. Why she was kept secret from Rapture. What Atlas had discovered more is that she was secretly a weapon Ryan would use in case against someone like us. A sleeper agent that would of slipped through our ranks or anyone else...almost like a female fatale Ryan wanted to make personally...it confused me because from what I’ve seen, she’s nothing like that.

But I think we surprised us more is that she had been in Rapture since 1983. For about 19 years, Ryan had her in there, with hardly anyone knowing. I think it sickened me a bit more hearing Ryan was gonna use a young woman as a secret weapon in case someone like Atlas came along. It was almost like what happened with the Little Sisters.

Yet the other thing that’s been on my mind is Archie. I’ve talked about how much of a warrior he was. Ever since he rescued Elizabeth, she’s been by his side ever since. I haven’t seen such a effective team. It was like they were perfect for each other.

But again, it’s Archie that has me thinking. Sure he’s a soldier...but compared to any of us...and even compared to Ryan’s personal guard. I have never seen a man be so efficient in what he does. This was a young man, yet he fought like he was like some sort of super soldier. Hell, I don’t even think Atlas and Daisy are that efficient. He’s fast and strong.

He was also using so many Plasmids without mutating. I couldn’t get it? He wasn’t becoming spliced up. I couldn’t believe it? I had lost count of how many times he injected a Eve Hypo into his wrists.

I think the scary part is how many Big Daddies he’s killed...how can one man kill so many. I didn’t understand it? But from what I’ve seen from footage is...him curing the Little Sisters...I couldn’t believe it.

Where were he and Elizabeth staying at? I heard Atlas yesterday say they were at Tenenbaum’s...I couldn’t understand...I’m confused...

6/5/2002 A bigger Big Daddy.

I didn’t understand nor could I comprehend what I had witnessed. Ever since Archie arrived...things were changing. What made me think this way was when I saw...something I didn’t think was possible.

Out of all the Big Daddies we’ve killed. I had never seen one so big. He was about 12 feet tell...he looked older than any of the Big Daddies. He looked similar to the Alpha series Big Daddies...I couldn’t understand. I was lucky to have lived, but I witness it killed so many rebels, Splicers, and Ryan’s army. This Big Daddy was vicious. It seemed like he was on a mission. As if he was tracking down Elizabeth.

I’m just in disbelief...I don’t understand.

I was a witness also to see Elizabeth teleport it somewhere...I think it’s dead...I’m not sure.

6/6/2002. The war soon coming to an end.

To be honest, I was fearing we may never win. But somehow we made it. Captain Dewitt was beaten yesterday, and now Ryan is soon to be dealt with. 

I’ve learned from Atlas that Tenenbaum had created a cure for the Little Sisters...I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. I asked him again if he was telling the truth, and he was. That’s why Archie and Elizabeth were staying with Tenenbaum somewhere. 

It still sounded so crazy. But the next piece of news is that these three would be coming to Atlas’s headquarters, our base of operations. I couldn’t believe I was seeing Tenenbaum...I had...weird feelings.

The plans were while Archie and others went to Ryan’s office to finally take him down. There was hardly anyone left to defend him. While Elizabeth and Dr. Tenenbaum stayed at Atlas’s headquarters. It...an experience meeting this young girl...even after everything she’d been through, but so kind. 

But I wasn’t gonna be staying for long either like Archie. Atlas sent me and some men to take over Fort Folic considering Archie and Elizabeth’s recent visit there. As if the freak that was Sander Cohen had finally left somewhere. It was no longer locked up.

I felt genuine hope for the first time. As if this whole nightmare will finally end. But I will admit, I wanted to kill Ryan as much as anybody else. I had my orders, and I listened. Besides, taking back Fort Folic was a huge win

I do recall Ryan playing golf at times. Hopefully when Archie gets to his office, he’ll beat the Walt Disney lookalike of a fuckhead with his own golf club. It’s what Ryan deserved...it’s what many of us wanted.

6/7/2002. Atlas...and the end...

...I don’t even know what to say...the war is over...it’s actually over...

But it didn’t end with Ryan dying or getting captured...

Atlas...our leader...my hero...my best friend...the anti-thesis to Ryan...was Frank Fontaine.

He’s dead...he was brutally hung...by Archie...his corpse is hanging for everyone to see...he...looks like half of a monster.

Everything we’ve done...everything we stood for...I feel betrayed, but I feel relived. I think others are feeling a similar way...I need no I want answers...

6/8/2002. The birth of the Vox Populi. Tenenbaum discovering these journals.

I think what happened on Thursday and Friday...changed so many of us...even myself...I thank Daisy and Diane for explaining it to me.

There was a huge meeting with the remaining rebels. Archie, Elizabeth, and Dr. Tenenbaum joined in as well. So many discussions were had. Rapture was finally ours...

While Splicers were still a thing, and some rich assholes were still around. Considering half of the city was still going, but we came together to formulate a plan. 

There won’t be another Andrew Ryan, or even another Frank Fontaine. The end of the Rapture Civil War was only the beginning of something much better. 

We weren’t just called rebels anymore, we were officially given a name now. The Vox Populi. It was Daisy’s idea for the name. We were basically the reformed version of Atlas’s rebellion. But now, we had genuine people who actually gave a damn. Who wouldn’t use us as puppets. That we will strive for a better tomorrow. 

For peace, a better community. So we can help out every Little Sister we can find out there, and help whoever else is in Rapture. We’re gonna make this shithole of a city a better living place. No more tyrants, no more conmen, no more rulers, just people wanting to make this place a better place for everyone.

Justice, peace, and all that...I think many of us are still getting over what happened with Atlas...I’m still getting used to it...I’m just grateful it’s over.

But before this the huge meeting, Dr. Tenenbaum discovered my journals...she read what I wrote about her...our struggles. I apologized to her, but she said it’s okay. She said she doesn’t blame me for being angry. I think what surprised me more was the one person that her the most was herself...

For some odd reason, I forgave her...she just stared at me with surprise. She gave me a small smile...and then I said I think I could forgive her after everything she’s tried doing to fix her mistakes. Because I told her trying to fix your mistakes is better than doing nothing.

[nbapprentice]

there’s so, so, SO much nonsense surrounding this game that i’m gonna do my best to separate it into digestible bits, with its own categories. even then this is... wow. it’s big.

Warning tags will be added at the start of every section, but the general gist is: incest, pedophilia mentions, fetishization of rape and abuse, fetishization of mlm, fetishization of people of color, racism, ableism, nb erasure and transphobia. aside of the warnings, this post will also touch upon Scummy Business Practices

let’s get going

Dana Rune’s and Elle’s lack of moral fiber: #incest #pedophilia#rape and abuse fetishization #homophobia

tl;dr: dana loves incest porn, elle loves guy on guy rape, and the both of them are friends with at least one pedophile

dana rune has run, is still running an incest zine (please visit my faq on what i think about “thats not really incest” and “it’s just fictional!”). The Arcana, as a dev team, clearly does not care, as shown in their e-mail responses.

dana also very much doesn’t care and has reacted to any criticism on this by dismissing people and blocking actual incest victims who tried to contact her about it claiming it was for her “mental health”

in some tweets she claims she “interprets” the characters as not siblings, but she never really cared enough to cover her ass when it all began (she happily admits she’d “cross the incest line”)

dana has commissioned artists who also ship incest, draw near-pedophilic art that’s supposed to pass as acceptable because the character involved is supposedly not a minor despite looking like a child down to wearing pigtails (the character is also wearing a racist-ass belly dancer outfit), AND even made white-washed fanart of The Arcana.

dana follows twitter user kapymui who also produces incestuous Fire Emblem art

dana has retweeted omocat long after it came out that omocat is, at the very least, consuming pedophilic content (on “omocat didn’t know what shota meant!”: yes they did)

moving on, elle has a long, long, LONG history of fetishizing mlm and the rape and abuse that comes with yaoi and had a rich, RICH “yaoi” tag before they deleted their tumblr

they curiously deleted their tumblr right after i made this reblog

shortly after that, tumblr user thalassiq remade and started attacking and insulting any blogs criticizing them - even people providing support in IMs. Since this doesn’t match Dana and Elle’s normal pity parties I’m personally willing to believe they were just a person wanting to start shit - but it’s so telling how Elle used this chance to dismiss everyone who disagrees with them by calling them “children” and did not even bother to offer a kind word to people who were harassed and even had their trauma mocked by this person. It costs 0 dollars to say “that was not me but I’m sorry about people who were hurt.”

Dana and Elle are close with Ava’s Demon creator Michelle Czajkowski aka that one person who endorses child porn of her characters, and even had her draw a promo image for the game. Michelle has been creating highly sexualized content of her minor characters for a while now.

ok so elle and dana are gross freaks, how is that related to the game?

oh it’s very very related

Dana Rune’s and Elle’s lack of moral fiber that’s Actually Inside The Game or The Game’s Blog: now with more #racism #fetishization of poc and mlm #whitewashing #fat hate #pedophilia #nb erasure #transphobia

tl;dr: the arcana is filled to the brim with racism! so much of it! haha holy shit! and that’s not even where it ends!!!

their game is rated PG-13 but includes incredibly sexual situations such as Julian making this fucking face while getting off on pain. This isn’t the only time Dana and Elle use their videogame aimed at young teens to showcase their kinks and fetishes. I have no issue with NSFW or titillating content, as long as it’s rated accordingly. This content is NOT and it’s a blatant disregard for their audience just to have a larger, more pliable demographic and have more money sent their way.

if you start your argument with “well, teenagers look at porn” 1. shut up 2. theres a HUGE difference between teenagers going after adult content aimed at adults, and adults creating content they know will be seen by kids barely starting puberty

as pointed above, dana has 0 qualms literally commissioning people who make whitewashed fanart of her own fucking game that’s supposed to be all about the inclusivity and safe spaces

thearcanagame blog has a pattern of reblogging whitewashed fanart (before you come in swinging with the good ole “ITS THE LIGHTING”: 1. no it isnt 2. the artist should’ve picked better lightning then 3. i draw and post shit online too so dont come telling me i just dont understaaaand),

fanart of their fat characters showed skinnier than they are in their sprites (although to be real for a moment - Portia is curvy at most and them behaving she’s fat rep is HILARIOUS).

going back to NSFW content: nadia and asra are overwhemlingly sexualized in the game, and were the first to have sexualized CGs and sprites introduced.

CGs: Asra’s here, here aND HERE, Nadia’s here with a NSFW warning because she’s just got her whole fucking ass out. Sprites: Asra’s thank god for whoever compiled it all in one image, Nadia’s and once again, NSFW warning lmfao!

Julian’s sprites on the other hand are noticeably tamer, including the one where he’s fucking strapped in leather. His only sexual (NSFW warning because its literally softcore tentacle porn WHICH, ONCE AGAIN, SHOULDN’T BE PUT IN A GAME AIMED AT 13YOS) CGs were also included months after Nadia and Asra received any of theirs.

Through all of the updates, people have constantly requested that Asra and Nadia’s sexualization be toned down, and time after time The Arcana just churned out fetishistic, hypersexualized content at an absurd rate, especially when compared to the one white love interest.

Oh, speaking of the one white love interest: Julian is based off of Jeff Goldblum (this is not spectulation - they p much bring it up at any given time) but like. If Jeff Goldblum was white. They base their favorite love interest off their supposed favorite man in the world but casually leave his skin tone behind. Lmao.

they also play favorites very obviously - in the prologue, Nadia and Asra have a romance paid scene each. Julian has a scene... that requires no coins. Julian was also the first LI to receive three CGs, two of them requiring no coins, while both Asra’s and Nadia’s first CGs were behind a paywall

Dana and Elle have been notoriously skittish about confirming or denying their characters’ ethnicities. After hyping for weeks on thearcanagame that they would confirm the character’s races they basically made a post that amounted to “well they’re not white lol!”

they only relented after the perfectly understandable outrage... and posted a thread about it on Elle’s twitter. Nothing on the actual thearcanagame blog. Anyway, here’s the thread. Note how there’s mention of Julian being Jeff Goldblum... but nothing about him and Portia being Jewish (or “fantasy Jewish” as it were).

The one time they did confirm their jewishness dana then backpedaled and said she shouldn’t have done that lol.

another fun tidbit of how well The Arcana handles race and how much it cares about feedback from fans: an ask was sent about an anon begging for Nadia to step on them. The blog, with the finesse of a bunch of horny dumbasses, didn’t just publish the ask, but approved of it (even though the fans of color had long, long, LONG been telling everyone not to fetishize Nadia into a “step on me kween” wet dream). People were outraged, of course, and the blog ~apologized~ and said they were still learning.... then a new chapter included a scene of Nadia stepping on the Apprentice. 🙃

not to mention elle, on their twitter, made a passive aggressive “women can be doms?” tweet, trying to twist it into a “yr oppressing women” angle (when the issue is that women of color are always constantly portrayed as aggressive and domineering)

Now for a wombo combo of racism and Elle’s fetishization of mlm:

the devs have spoken at length of how Julian’s and Asra’s relationship was quite unhealthy. In a paid scene in Asra’s route, they’re depicted as Asra being disgusted w Julian touching him+Julian following Asra to his shop when Asra refused his offer to go with him (aka julian... stalked him lmfao).

.......... this scene is promptly followed by a highly sexual scenario where Julian’s pain fetish is played up. Remember how this game is rated PG-13? Me neither. Asra’s previous disgust with Julian is also forgotten, for some reason (and by some reason i mean Elle wants to make them fuck w/o buildup or logic).

Then Asra’s route has yet another paid scene dedicated to Asrian, even though he’s supposed to not even like Julian! And be head over heels with the Apprentice! But Elle just has to make these two be entangled despite insisting their relationship was not good for either of them!

Now here’s the kicker: Julian doesn’t have any paid scenes related to his romance with Asra. Note how it’s one of the brown LIs whose route is highjacked by the white LI, but not vice versa. Hmmmmm.

Now, on the topic of Asra: thearcanagame has said repeatedly that he’s nb and uses he/him pronouns, and promised (since last year) that there would be dialogue where he speaks about his gender

as of the making of this post such dialogue still does not exist

so basically asra is the nb to dumbledore’s gay: anyone who just plays the game w/o keeping up with the official blog has no idea of what asra’s gender is supposed to be.

aka he’s not nb. he’s just a cis guy. the arcana just doesn’t want to put its money where its mouth is, i dont care if elle is nb themself. the team made a promise which has not been fulfilled yet and i suspect will not be.

instead, our introduction to canon nb characters is... these two.

By “these two” i mean neither vulgora nor valdemar are even fucking human, and stick out like sore thumbs with their monstruousness.

so our nb rep is... non-human villains. a few books later one of Nadia’s sisters with they/them pronouns shows up, but that’s too little too late on top of the fact that we should’ve known Asra was nb from the first to begin with. It’s a fucking embarrassment and an insult.

at least two villains are visibly disabled (Lucio’s missing arm and Volta’s blind eye+intentionally asymmetrical face). Julian’s eye doesn’t count because, spoilers, he’s not lacking an eye and even if he was it’d still be hidden behind a dashing eyepatch instead of grotesquely displayed as a sign of his lacking morality.

BUT WAIT! IT DOESN’T EVEN END THERE!

The Arcana Exploits The App Business Model To Price Their Full Game at $500, $1000 if the three extra routes make it out, and they never delivered their Kickstarter rewards:

tl;dr: you heard me

the original price per route was planned on being $1.99

they took that “subject to change” really seriously, it seems, because now each route, once the game is fully out, is estimated to cost around $170 each.

both those screenshots are taken from this post which explains in detail just how truly scummy all of The Arcana’s business model and decisions are: https://mysticmicrotransactions.tumblr.com/post/174308723344/dishonesty-from-the-arcana

the tl;dr is basically what’s listed in the beginning of this section, but other highlights from that post are: the use of addictive gambling mechanics such the Wheel of Fortune, and the dazzling calls to action in the new mini-game.

something that The Arcana supporters forget (or choose to ignore) is the fact that for a long, long time the game did not have the mini-game or the log-in rewards for coins. Players depended only on the gambling of the WoF or paying absurd amounts of money for the new chapters.

the devs went from playing the victims who were unable of controlling prices to (as spoken of in the link from mysticmicrotransactions) saying the making of the game (a pathetic little app game backed by a studio and a kickstarter) justifies the prices

they also gave people false hope about maybe changing the prices in the future, all while bleeding money from loyal players in “micro” transactions

the arcana literally added a $99.99 coins option on their latest update

in case it hasn’t sunk in yet: you can pay a hundred dollars upfront to the arcana, and you still will not have access to the whole game

there is no defense to this

none

“it’s free stop whining” let me explain:

“spend months on end accumulating fake currency or pay hundreds of dollars up-front to be able to play” is a scummy business model no matter how you look at it

if i can spend $60 upfront to play an AAA game there’s no excuse to demand more than that for a game with much smaller and, honestly, inferior content

the combination of there being already far and few games featuring lgbt characters and characters of color AND the little cult of personality set up by Dana and Elle makes people feel that spending money to support them is an acceptable expense.

it’s not

manipulating people into spending ridiculous amounts of money and then claiming “it’s their choice” is just scummy business, baby, and thats all the arcana does

the devs are brats who instead of admitting $500 is absurd for a game instead write petty little caricatures into their game - like, lbr: dana, elle, if i could afford diamonds in my hair i wouldn’t have even bothered with your shitstain of a game

despite bragging that ppl would get the full story w/o needing to pay, the paid scenes are pretty much required - the first few books of julian’s route have no romance without accessing any of the paid options. you dont even get so much as a kiss in without handing coins over. many, many people were baffled when julian had a teary break-up scene when from their perspective they hadn’t even started building a relationship.

wow that’s more than i ever thought it’d be

and i’ve been aware of their bullshit for near a whole year now!

i don’t have much of a note to end this on, other than: the arcana just isn’t even that good. it suffers from weak writing, pathetic character development and above all actually harmful content. do not try to argue with me on any of these points unless you’ve read all of that, because whatever you have to say i’ve likely mentioned before. if you still are that determined to yell at a me on the internet, please preface your argument with the phrase “I’m a pee pee poo poo man” so I know you’ve read everything in here. thank you!

[punkscowardschampions]

Ava & James

Ava: I've told all my family James: oh Ava: Maybe don't oh that hard Ava: thinking you've changed your mind and that's going to be very difficult to do a 180 on tbh James: I'm actually thinking about Bella's dad's reaction Ava: As far as I'm aware, my dad doesn't have a shotgun Ava: or an excellent moustache Ava: definitely not James: Mine does, on both counts, but the mentality simply isn't there James: war of words is as far as things have so far escalated Ava: That's a good visual Ava: what about your mum? James: she's very busy lining up every single woman she's aware of between the ages of 20 to 30 within a mile radius or so Ava: Very Mr Darcy Ava: I'll gatecrash James: I look forward to the dramatic dance scene during which we only touch palms & exchange looks Ava: I bet Lizzie Bennet didn't 😳 Ava: shame my sister isn't around to push over so your parents are forced to take us in whilst she languishes James: 😂 James: I'll happily push my sister over or let her fall through an iced over pond to further our romantic narrative Ava: 💘 Ava: I know it's less about me but I can swoon nonetheless James: if you're 😳 then you'll have my full attention regardless Ava: Promise? James: yes Ava: even if the single ladies have really good period costumes? James: well, I hadn't considered that Ava: 😏 Ava: rude James: before I decide, what are you going to be wearing when you gatecrash? Ava: Obviously something unexpectedly knockout Ava: am the protagonist, need I remind you James: okay, what I'm hearing is anything you already own or could pick out from anywhere given a few moments Ava: You're adorable Ava: how did it go really then? James: does that mean I'll get to see you before there's a seasons changing montage? because I really want to Ava: Providing you don't need to exile yourself, of course James: I'm sure there's now several people in both our lives who would like me to, but I won't Ava: They were as receptive as I expected but I've made it clear I won't be stopping seeing you, hopefully put to bed the concerns I can James: in my case, the only concern is outward appearances so there's very little I can do even if I particularly cared to James: & Teddy isn't concerned so much as shocked & appalled Ava: Of course Ava: at least I'm an addendum re. the main issue of the whole divorce, in that case? Ava: yeah, do you think I should make a point of talking to him or give him space? James: will you? as far as he's concerned I haven't made a good decision within his living memory, but you two are friends, or were Ava: I'll try, definitely Ava: if I can make him see it's as much my decision as yours, it might help, in the end Ava: and I can handle another person having their say James: thank you James: I meant what I said, I'm more than willing to discuss this with your parents, at any point James: I can handle that Ava: Thank you Ava: I think it might help Ava: but I also think I'm gonna give them a cool-off period or it won't be at all helpful and that won't be at all your fault James: understood James: I'm currently having to employ a similar situation with Jay's playdates because her friend's mothers cannot possibly keep their nose out of my business or their mouths shut about where hers is and every other single detail they believe to be fact Ava: Oh lord Ava: I wouldn't have envied you having to socialize by-proxy with the self-professed yummy mummies before but now Ava: I can only imagine Ava: Poor Jay Ava: I can't offer a human child for playdates but Frank is always down Ava: and my lips are, naturally, sealed James: I was hoping to take them away for a few days but it's as though my dad has decided that in lieu of my failings in other areas I need to suddenly become the hardest worker in the history of this company Ava: Of course Ava: Hmm James: because obviously what my children require most in their mother's absence is to also see me less Ava: Well, yeah, that's not potentially traumatizing Ava: thank God for School being right 'round the corner Ava: and Matty still being portable James: I've been bringing them both to the office & the bulging vein in his temple is honestly such a strong contender for the book cover Ava: 😏 That's how you do it Ava: risk his health and wellbeing so you get the time off for yours James: King's didn't teach me everything I know, I've got a few tricks Ava: When are you giving me that tour? James: When can I see you? Ava: When is your dad not working you to death? Ava: I can make it work James: [A pause while he figures that out] James: he's out of the office all day on [a date in the foreseeable to make this office hookup a thing] Ava: No offense but if your brother shows up again you need to send him on a really long coffee run James: as you said, school is right around the corner, meaning my parents priorities have shifted back to making sure he'll go Ava: In that case Ava: 😈 James: 😇 for saying yes Ava: I have ulterior motives, I promise you James: oh really? Ava: really Ava: it's very unfair I've yet to see you in your work clothes James: [sends her a pic because nobody can stop him] Ava: um hello 😍 Ava: you're really going to be away from me looking so good Ava: unfair James: I'm sorry James: I really, really am Ava: Me too Ava: I've not seen you enough to warrant how badly I want to right now James: [a casual essay about how much he misses her and wants her and everything he wishes they could do, in a saucy way but also just in cute ways like] Ava: James James: Ava Ava: I really love you, you know James: I love you too James: what I most wish is that we could go away for a while Ava: That would be Ava: so good Ava: maybe we could in like the Christmas hols, when everything has calmed down Ava: hopefully James: it would be indescribable Ava: I have no doubt you would do your best Ava: and it'd be impressive James: the subject matter lends itself to nothing but my best Ava: I'm honoured🙇 James: so am I, especially by that visual Ava: Gutted I'm out rn and can't immediately fulfill that wish for a visual like you did Ava: when I get back though James: [sends her an even better visual] James: until then, there you are Ava: oh, well, you aren't distracting at all 😖 Ava: definitely gonna get you back when you're so hard at work James: 😈 James: I so badly hope you do Ava: I intend to Ava: every day of the week Ava: but especially when I get to come see you James: you know, the things I intend to do to you on this desk drastically shifts the audience we're going to be able to pitch this book to Ava: You'll have to restrain your imagination in the write-up so the audience can use theirs to fill in the blanks Ava: because there's no way we're leaving your office 'til we've done everything you've thought of James: finally some overtime I'm not upset about Ava: It's all about balance, right? 😇 James: & I'm aware that you've got very good balance Ava: Will that help me be the best good luck charm on your best I can be? 🤔 Ava: intriguing 😋 James: absolutely, but if you need any more help, I'll help you Ava: You're very helpful, baby James: I try to be Ava: I've never met anyone like you James: I don't think I'll ever meet anyone else that comes close to you either James: I certainly haven't before Ava: Good Ava: I don't need to think about competiting so soon James: you don't need to think about it, full stop Ava: not 'til the dance, anyway James: even then, I'll only have eyes for you, that's the cliche Ava: Of course Ava: doesn't mean I'm not gonna do everything within my power to ensure it's worth your 👀s while James: I don't want to dance with anyone else, Ava James: I don't want to do any of this with anyone else Ava: I know Ava: you know I feel the same too James: you know I couldn't have done this without you though Ava: You did it all though, all the hard conversations and hard decisions James: a lot of those decisions were made for me, so there's limited credit due, & a lack of conversation with her just cements that Ava: Yeah but the ball is in her court on that one Ava: you're if not ready at least willing whenever she is James: of course, because that's not a decision, to not act, not any more Ava: yeah, and that's going to be a good thing Ava: even if it is not good all the time James: I'll be interested to see if she gets in contact before school starts because that's unlikely to be a good thing Ava: Yes, I wonder if this is just a summer holiday or Ava: makes you wonder what she's even doing that could keep her so 'busy' James: whoever cleans the pool, probably, not that she'd ever admit to such a cliche Ava: 😬 Ava: definitely not getting paid enough James: 😂 Ava: I'm just glad that right now you don't have to deal with her on the day to day, even if it's only a momentary reprieve, it'll never be that bad again James: me too, I can't & won't pretend that I didn't know how bad it had become but actually getting a break from it makes me wonder how either of us dealt with that for as long as we have Ava: I bet Ava: she must've been as sick of it, even though she was the one not letting go and doing the fucked up shit, that has to be exhausting to live like that Ava: full level hell beast all the time, like 😈 Ava: sorry, I'm not fully sure where the line is re. her Ava: but I've been hearing great things from Nancy and Buster today so, that's in my head James: it's okay, you're not wrong James: & neither are they Ava: Okay Ava: if it's ever weird or like, not up for discussion though, just say the word Ava: or several, as you're especially loquacious James: there's a fantastic word Ava: as far as safewords go Ava: I can think of a few situations where it might be hard to get out but isn't that half the fun James: I'll make a note of it, because yes, that's definitely a large percentage of the thrill Ava: I wish you were here Ava: I only am to get away from my parents for a bit James: where are you? Ava: My friend's house Ava: Her sister is called Stasia, think she was your year-ish? James: I remember her, whether she would me, favourably or otherwise, I can't possibly comment James: I'll take you home when you want to go Ava: Really? Ava: well, I'll go at whatever time means I get some extra with you James: okay, I'll take that as my cue to leave now, not only because any reason to get out of here is welcomed though Ava: Please do Ava: talking about you so much has only made my need to be with you even greater James: I can absolutely relate & admit to having had the same urge all day Ava: Oh good Ava: we're on the same page James: that said, a necessary note in the margin would be that in actual fact I've felt that way much longer, because whatever I'm talking about, I'm thinking about you Ava: Sometimes I think I think about you too much Ava: but then I remember I'm the protagonist in this romance so it's not just acceptable but necessary James: you can do whatever you like, darling, it's your story Ava: In that case Ava: read on James: voraciously Ava: 🤤🤤 James James: I'm just making sure we're still on the same page Ava: You're gonna have trouble keeping me on the page Ava: and making me go home James: & the driver's eyes on the road, we may need more than the Twilight soundtrack on this occasion Ava: Pride & Prejudice 2005? Ava: gotcha, honey James: 😂 James: yes, exactly Ava: 😊 Ava: I love you so much James: I miss you so much James: if I could take you home with me, I very happily would Ava: I know Ava: one day James: after the move to the other side of the river, because we both know there is a line Ava: It's pretty exciting, isn't it? James: I'm glad to hear you think so because I was going to ask you if you'd like to come house hunting with me Ava: I'd love to! James: [a possible date soonish] ? Ava: That should be good for me Ava: I'll let you know if otherwise Ava: it'll be nice to look at some actual decent places, let's face it, I doubt my student digs will be all that inspiring, like 😏 James: barely room for whatever hazing pranks they have in store, I'm sure Ava: I'm still not convinced that particular visual doesn't just come from a certain type of movie, babe James: you'll have to let me know 😏 Ava: I'll make it good for you James: my faith in you remains unwavering Ava: 🙇 James: have you reconsidered your stance on spoilers? Ava: That does depend James: oh? Ava: have you dumped fake girl? James: she was very slow to accept her fate, but yes Ava: I can't blame her Ava: I wouldn't wanna lose you either Ava: [picture, assumedly in her friend's room or somewhere not just in front of them like oh hey] James: Ava Ava: Make traffic move faster please James: I'll do the quickest rewrite possible & see you at your friend's door Ava: I'll be waiting so patiently James: & I'll be waiting impatiently James: 😇 & 😈 Ava: I think you deserve to be 😈 right now Ava: been a long day, yeah? James: yes, though it feels longer now, stretching out with the queued traffic Ava: 🥺 Ava: we'll just have to see it as motivation to not waste a single second James: it's a promise, in or out of traffic Ava: I'm so lucky James: if you think you are, then I need a better word to describe my own fortune right now Ava: I'm just really happy Ava: in spite of anything else, everything else, right now James: good, me too Ava: 🥰 Ava: you deserve that even more James: you deserve more than I can possibly give you, however patiently you wait Ava: nuuh James: yes you do Ava: 😣 Ava: no Ava: and I want you James: I want you, I'm well aware that it doesn't mean I deserve to have you Ava: How could you possibly not James: because James: the reasons I lack words to describe you aren't even close to the reasons I lack them to describe myself Ava: but I can't describe you either Ava: not just because I'm no writer James: but you do, all the time, in both words & actions I can vividly see myself the way you think of me Ava: I'm glad Ava: keep looking, okay Ava: we'll work on the believing bit James: okay James: if you'd like to get in the car, we can start immediately

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Talk

There are a lot of challenges with being a single parent. Most of the time Dean feels like he is a great father, but when his teenage daughter, El, comes and asks for advice on sex he finds himself in a predicament he wasn’t expecting at 10am on a Saturday morning. 

Created for @foreverwayward​

Rating: T 

Prompts: 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop listening to you.” -Big Bank Theory

“I’m not great at advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?” -Friends 

(Quotes are bold)

Tags/Warnings: Language, LGBTQ, Dad!Dean, sexual insinuations. 

Word Count: 1,384

Creator’s Note: This is a part of a larger series The Look in Her Eyes, The Daughter of a Righteous Man, and What The Rain Can’t Wash Away, including my OFC Dean’s daughter. Check out my Master List for the first 10 chapters of the trilogy, and links to the complete work on A03.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I sat at the kitchen table in the bunker reading the newspaper because my life was so fucking boring I could scream. Where were the monster’s when you needed them? Where were the cases? Sam was out running, of all the things to do in the morning. I would never understand that kid. I sat down the paper and rubbed my temples. Was ten too early for a beer? Nah. 

I stood up, to catch my teenage daughter staring at me from the doorway. “Need something, El?” I asked, walking to the fridge.

She sighed, twisting her hair into a bun. “Well.” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is so awkward.” 

“What is it?” I raised an eyebrow, cracking open my beer. 

“I have a question.. about sex.” She crossed her arms. 

I choked on the beer I was drinking. Sucked the goddamn thing down my windpipe. I hit my chest with my fist, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” she complained. 

“You are sixteen.” 

“You were a whore when you were young.” She frowned. “I know you had sex younger than sixteen.” 

She had a point. 

“I resent that,” I complained, coughing some more. 

“Come on, I don’t have a mom... I’m just working with what I’ve got.” 

We were always close. Her mom died when she was so young that it left all the big milestones for me to deal with. Nothing could be worse than her first period, though, so I had that to hold on to. 

“Dad!”

“What do you need, Eleanor?” I called as I flipped through my Busty Asian’s magazine. No one told you that when you had a kid every time you pulled out porn, BOOM! There they were to make it weird. 

“I need.. oh god.” 

“What is it?” I asked, shutting the magazine. 

“It’s everywhere,” she cried out. 

“Sweetheart, What’s going on?” I sat the magazine down and followed the sound of her loud sobs to the bathroom. I knocked a few times. “What’s going on?”

“This is so gross,” she complained quietly.

“What is?”

“I...oh god.” 

“El!” I pressed my hand against the door. “Talk to me or I’m breaking the door down.” 

“No! Don’t.... It’s.. I started.”

“Started what?” I was so fucking stupid. 

“You’re going to make me say it?” She was wailing again.

“Honey I’m so confused just... oh god. Oh fuck. Started, started?”

“Yes!” She sobbed. I could hear her sucking up snot from through the door.

I wanted to run. I wasn’t prepared for this. I never paid that close of attention. Sure I got tampons for Ava but this... this was my baby girl. Was she seriously old enough for this? oh my god... this means she can get pregnant. This is my nightmare! “Do you... do you need supplies?”

“Yes, Dad. God! This is a man cave. It smells like bacon and old spice in here, of course I need supplies!”

“Cas!” I shouted, looking alarmed. He poked his head out of his bedroom. “I need you to go to the store. Right now. We need.... we need feminine hygiene products.” I swallowed hard.

“Understood,” Cas said intently. “Super, or regular?”

Sometimes I felt like such a shitty father. If I didn’t give her the talk then, fuck, who would? I sure didn’t want her looking it up online. The idea of her seeing the dark shit I’d seen was enough to make me shelter her for her entire existence. 

“Come in here,” I told her, waving her in. 

She shuffled in, wearing her blanket wrapped around her. “I’m sorry I just... I don’t really have anyone to ask.”

“Nah, kid. You’re good. I’m your Dad... it’s my job,” I sighed, downing the rest of my beer. I was gonna need a hell of a lot more than that if I was going to make it through, but I also didn’t want her to see me pound a whole six pack. Parenting is hard. “What...uh.. what do you want to know?”

“Well, I like someone.” 

“That’s a good start.”

She was biting her lip pretty intensely. 

“Hey, you’re gonna lose it if you keep chewin like that. What’s goin on? He’s not older, is he?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Well yeah, a bit... but not too old.” 

“Then what are you afraid to say?” I lowered myself into the chair next to her. “You can tell me anything,” I assured her. 

She covered her face and mumbled something unintelligible. 

I moved her hands. “Try again.” 

She sighed. “I like... Claire.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Claire, like Claire Novak Claire? Biker Barbie?”

“Dad oh my god!”

“Sorry,” I grunted. “I’m just surprised.” This is fucking excellent. 

“Are you disappointed?”

“Me?” I asked, surprised. I took her hands in mine when I realized that the tint to her cheek were because she was worried. She thought that I wasn’t going to accept her. “Sweetheart, listen,” I began. “Claire is a punk, but if you like her then that’s great. You don’t have to justify who you like to me.” 

Her blue green eyes flickered up to mine. “Really?”

“Really really. I’m sorry if you’ve felt like you had to hide anything about yourself.” 

A smile grew on her cheeks. “Thanks, Dad.”

Whew! That wasn’t so bad. 

“I do still have a few logistical questions,” she began.

“Uh, okay. Like what?”

“Well in gender stereotype’s the guy pays on dates. Who should pay with us?”

I grinned. “Whoever asks.” I shrugged. “But really taking turns is best. Your mom and I took turns.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t have an actual pay check.” She eyed me.

“Hey that fake pay check pays for all the stuff you want,” I snapped with an eye roll. 

“What about... sex... I just... I don’t know how to..”

I raised an eyebrow. What the fuck do I say to that? The only lesbian activity I’ve seen is... oh Christ. I can’t tell her about anything I’ve seen in porn! 

“Dad?”

How long have I been just staring at her? Just say something, Dean. Anything. Come on you fucking coward! “I uh... I’m not great at advice. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?”

Fucking smooth. 

“What?” 

“I... shit. Sweetheart I’m sorry I’m just kind of... I don’t know what to say, okay?” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“You could just say that, you know?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to make it weird.” She sighed standing up. 

“Wait, don’t go! Let me think.” This is my job. I sighed as she sat back down slowly. 

“Okay...”

“Just make sure when it happens that you are both... ready. You don’t have to rush. Get to know each other first, and always communicate.”

El nodded knowingly. 

“It’s okay to tell each other what you... uh... what you like. What you’re comfortable with. Just listen to each other.” You’re doin great, keep it up. “Also, make sure to always shower.”

“What?”

“But don’t use scented cleaners on your... lady parts. That can give you an infection. Go pee after, because it can cause a urinary infection. I’ve heard those are godawful.” 

She sat up a little straighter. “Uh, Dad.” 

“Also, maybe keep your nails trimmed. I’ve heard that can be a problem...” I am the king of advice. 

Eleanor stood up, her face bright red. “Dad, um, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stop listening to you. Thanks... um... you’ve given me a lot to think about.” She quickly turned and shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there with my hands out, trying to demonstrate the proper nail length for extra curricular activities with women in the bedroom. 

I rubbed my forehead. “Really fucked that up, didn’t I?”

“I’ll say,” Sam said, jogging down the stairs.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, alarmed. 

Sam grinned widely at me. “Way too long.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Fuck, why didn’t you stop me?”

“It was like watching a car wreck. Can’t look away.” He shrugged grabbing a beer. He tossed me one, and I caught it effortlessly. “It’s fine, man. She will figure it out just like the rest of us did.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, cracking open my beer. “That’s what I’m worried about.” 

—————-

Read the entire series here

Check out my Masterlist

Support my writing!

[shampoo-champagne]

Faery Lights and Long Nights

Kyungsoo x reader - Therapist!au

Fluff, Angst, Trigger Warning (Stalker!au/Sexual Harassment/Alluding to Sexual Molestation), Eventual Smut

Author Notes: Ah good evening! This is a therapist!Kyungsoo fic I made for my sister, and it’s the first thing I’ve written in about 5 years, so she will be rough, in concept and execution, but she’s got a little of everything and I lover her dearly. Please take that into consideration, loves. I would love to hear any and all (constructive) feedback! Please let me know what you think I could have done better! (Specifically with how I portrayed Kyungsoo, he’s not somebody that’s easy for me to read, but I want to make sure I do his personality justice.) Enjoy! -Diana

Prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - Epilogue

Kyungsoo’s POV

I ran a hand through my hair and down my face. How could I have let her get to me like this? Normally, I would have suggested somebody who’s being stalked stay with some close friends or family she could trust. Though, she had mentioned a great amount of stress coming from her family, and she doesn’t seem to know who her stalker might be. Staying here today would be in her best interest.

As for the hotel, I have no other explanation besides pure selfishness. Something deep down wanted, no, yearned to comfort her as the tears rolled down her cheeks and into her lap. To gather her up in my arms and rub her back until she calmed down. To hold and protect her from the fears of the night. 

She was grace and beauty. Eloquence and insight. She held the glory of the heavens in her eyes, but fear and anxiety had caused the storms to surge. And it was all I could do to hold back from high-tailing it out of there and finding the one responsible for her shattered hope and trust. A rage ignited in my chest. Whoever it was, would pay.

She was incredible. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her hands shook with adrenaline and anxiety, and even though she had already paid for the hour we spent talking today, she offered to help with any paperwork I had. I told her she didn’t need to, to just relax, but she disagreed. “I already phoned my friends and family, and called out sick at work, but to be honest I’m pretty bored. It’s the least I can do for you allowing me to stay here today. Please? If, you don’t mind?”

Smiling warmly, I handed her a generous stack of papers that needed to be organized and showed her to the spare office across the hall. I thanked her and left the door cracked as clients rolled in one by one.

I found myself checking on her in between sessions, showering her with attention and comfort. I tried to alleviate the stress on her mind with casual conversation, and in doing so I discovered her personality was just as captivating as her looks. She was quite different from anyone I had ever met. She was so hopeful of others and continuously gave them the benefit of the doubt, even if it hurt her later on. It pained me to understand someone had dared to taint the heart of someone so pure. Though gentle and trusting, she was not to be mistaken as naïve. She was incredibly smart, and she knew how to protect herself. She had mentioned she even took self-defense classes. Yet here the fair maiden sat, faded makeup, with the brightest smile alighting her features. It made my heart leap bounds like I was once again a child. ** It was well into the evening, nearly 7pm.

“May I ask, what’s the plan? Since your last client has left?” She inquired.

“Well, before I booked the room, I wanted to ask if you would feel more comfortable staying with any of your close friends?” I didn’t want to force her into an uncomfortable situation.

“Well,” She started, downcast eyes hiding from my intent gaze, her tone wavering slightly. “I moved to this town not too long ago, and I haven’t made close friends with anyone I would be comfortable sharing this with. And besides, I don’t want to put anybody else in danger. I have no idea what kind of person has been stalking me, after all.”

“As you wish, Miss (Y/L/N).” So, she was alone… much like myself. “Tell me, where’s your favorite place to eat?” Her favorite food might help ease the unfamiliar atmosphere of the hotel.

The question must have caught her off guard; her features stunned at the seemingly odd question. “Um, well, there’s this cute café on Main Street that has the best coffee and sandwiches.”

“Then we will stop there after we pick you up some spare clothes.” I nodded and opened the passenger door to my car, letting her inside. The first stop was her apartment. “Would you like me to go in with you?” I asked.

“That would be very nice, thank you. Just um, don’t mind the mess.”

“I won’t.”

I stepped in the space after her. Countless strings of faery lights stretched across the ceiling, down the hallway, and into each room, casting a cozy mellow glow on the (literal) entirety of her home. Fluffy throws and shaggy rugs littered the space more than laundry or trash. That must have been what she meant by mess. Though I don’t see how blankets and pillows equal a mess; it looked more of a cozy nest, to be honest. What caught me by surprise, however, was when one of the ‘pillows’ stretched its legs out and began to meow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a pet.”

She knelt down to pet the ball of fluff. “It’s okay. He’ll be quite alright for a night or two. I’ll just have to leave out a lot of extra food. He eats too much for his own good.” If she was fine with it, then I suppose it was ok. “Okay, let me throw some stuff into a bag.”

Her cat and I held a silent conversation while I waited. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very good company. She emerged a moment later with a small duffel and two large bowls of cat food. Setting them down she said her goodbyes to her precious pet and we left for the car.

Second stop: the café. A nearly intoxicating aroma of roasting coffee, fresh baked sandwiches, and pastries filled the air, welcoming with the promise of good food and pleasant company, but we would not be staying long enough to enjoy either.

“Order your favorite food and we shall head out. I don’t want to catch any unwanted eyes that may follow.” I whispered into her ear, taking notice of the goosebumps that rippled across the surface of her neck. I should be more careful of her personal space, it was a fine line between attraction and anxiety in this situation.

As she ordered, I sauntered over to the bar stools to wait, though I had to hide my smirk as the barista giggled. My hearing being better than most, I picked up on the teasing, flirty comments coming from her friend.

“(Y/N), is that your boyfriend..?!”

“Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”

“Oh, come on. He’s ridiculously gorgeous! Tell me you aren’t tapping that tonight.”

“I am not, Ava. We’re just. Friends.”

“Uh-huh, text me afterwards, kay?” the barista winked.

(Y/N) slapped her friend softly and marched back over to me, all ready to leave the teasing behind. The light pink haze under her (Y/E/C) eyes highlighted the beauty of them even more, and I found myself lost in her soul’s galaxy once again.

A small hand passing across my face broke my concentration. “Kyungsoo? Hello?”

I shook my head and shot straight for the door, holding it open, “Let’s go.” I said, trying to hide my own embarrassment.

We made it to the hotel around 8:30 pm; the hotel receptionist showed us to her room. It was second floor, with a full-size bed, and mini fridge. Nothing too spectacular, but enough to keep her comfortable. I gave her my number and told her to text me if she needed anything at all; I’m only a text away.

As she was sorting through her things, I made an effort to make sure all of the windows and doors were locked, but she interrupted me. “Don’t bother,” she said, “I’ll just do it twice more before I finally sleep.”

Her comment was so lightly put, it broke my heart. I don’t know if she will ever fully understand how badly I wanted to stay with her that night. How could I leave when I knew she didn’t feel safe? “I see.” I mumbled, turning to leave.

“Kyungsoo?” Her soft voice called out, pulling me back in. I turned to greet an exhausted shell of a girl. It seemed the day had finally caught up with her. 

“Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

The ride home was too quiet, oppressing silence hung in the air as traffic lights and time blurred by. I mulled today’s events over and over. It was quite an impulsive decision to take care of her like this. Let her spend all day with me, even buy a hotel room for her to stay in. It’s nearly too much care for any one client, but I couldn’t deny the pull I felt in my chest. She, in the small amount of time I had gotten to know her, enchanted me like no one before. And it almost scared me.

When I arrived home, I hopped into the shower immediately. I needed to wash these emotions from my conscious, keep my head clear as possible, to make sure I could deliver the proper amount of care to her, no matter how I felt. 

Steaming bolts of water massaged the tension from my shoulders, I rarely let myself enjoy long showers, but tonight I let the hot water melt the day away. As I stepped out of the shower, towel hung low on my waist, I noticed my phone was blowing up. It unlocked showing I had 2 missed calls and 9 text messages from an unknown number.

The phone fell on the bed, my nerves dead and eyes blown wide. Oh no.

[Unknown] 9:47 p.m. Kyungsoo please help. Hes in my room. I’m scared.

[marlahey]

we stumbled in the dark; i knew we’d be alright (part one)

a shawn mendes rpf fic rating/warnings: currently teen for language; probably smut-less (sorry?) since I haven’t aged him up here and he’s a real person significantly younger than me so the whole idea is slightly weird. notes: inspired largely by the TNHMB music video, (curse shawn and his stupid heart eyes) plays fast and loose with the actual logistics of an international tour/various locations, set in a nebulous SM3 era timeline because the full album drops tomorrow night and y’all can bet I’m gonna reference his new stuff. thank you to @achinglyshawn​ for being a lovely and encouraging new friend. hope you like it! I haven’t written solid anything in at least a year, least of all rpf which I haven’t done since like 2011; don’t know why the urge struck like lightning, but here we are. pearson international airport; now

You’ve had the dates in your calendar for months. You’ve sat in on meetings about the set design, the crew, and the appearance schedule; you personally claimed the receipt on a portable humidifier and the seemingly-endless variety of adapters required for it to follow Shawn from green room to green room.

This is it: it’s the first day of the international tour. You should be walking to the gate, but the bustle of Pearson International feels muffled, somehow. You can’t get your feet to move. “You’re gonna get run over if you keep standing there like that.”

Craning your neck to look at Shawn will never not be vaguely annoying. Mid afternoon sun glints off the shades on his head that are meant to be disguising. He’s smiling a little at his own joke, glancing over you at the people at the gate just ahead, boarding a flight to Edmonton. There’s a little girl holding a stuffed Eeyore, his velcro tail dragging on the floor. She takes her mom’s hand, but clutches at Eeyore more firmly as she walks. You can’t stop staring at the pink bow. “You okay?” Shawn’s expression has gone from relaxed to concerned. You flush, suddenly aware of yourself again, and him: as busy as Pearson is (most people don’t spare either of you a second glance), he is a superstar; you’re the one who’s supposed to keep him from getting hoarded by fans at the airport. It’s honestly a miracle it hasn’t happened yet. “I’m fine,” you say. Shawn’s eyebrow lifts, a wordless doubt. “You’re not afraid of flying are you?” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, we’d better get going.” You reach for the bag at your feet, clanging with all the jewelry you feel naked without, but Shawn snatches it up. You get a noseful of his cologne; you try very hard not to think about how good he smells. Shawn gives you a cheeky half-grin, pushing his sunglasses down over his eyes, leaving you to watch as he somehow manages to stride ahead with your bag, his bag, and his guitar, and still look cool. It’s almost infuriating. You have to trot to catch up with him. “I can carry that myself, you know.” Shawn doesn’t reply, though he’s slowed down to account for your height difference. You open your mouth to proclaim your own self-sufficiency, but snap it shut just as you see what is clearly a girls’ sports team lounging in wait at the next gate. Fuck. You chance a look at Shawn and watch as his fingers curl tighter around the strap of his guitar case. It’s probably a dead giveaway, but Shawn is very particular about his acoustic guitar. He holds out your bag, which you accept wordlessly, resisting the urge to step closer to him as if you could shield him with your meager five feet and five inches. He loves his fans, but international flights are stressful enough and Andrew had been clear about keeping a low profile. Besides, your sister would kill you if you messed up on the first day of the tour, when your only job is, play decoy and get Shawn to the gate unnoticed. Officially, as Shawn’s PA’s little sister, you’re technically not on the payroll. No one but the crew knows you’re part of the team, which makes you the ideal candidate to accompany a relatively disguised Shawn through the airport. You aren’t at things like interviews or meet and greets, but Ava’s words to Andrew over a year ago were, if you want me then Eleanor has to come. What Ava didn’t say (at least in earshot of you) was, she doesn’t have anyone to look out for her and I’m not leaving her alone for weeks at a time. For which you’re grateful. Being the (albeit 17 year old) child underfoot in an industry of adults was bad enough. If the circumstances were different, you’d probably resent your elder sister for uprooting your whole life and taking you away from school and your friends. But as it stands, you only have one close friend and you and Ava are more than just sisters, anyway. She practically raised you. And well, touring with a pop star or advanced calculus? It’s a no brainer. So you get to hang around with Shawn Mendes and occasionally help out, like with the humidifier when your sister is swamped, and learn about soundcheck when thing aren’t too crazy. As your sister’s pinch hit one month gig for Shawn’s manager turned into six, and then became permanent, you graduated to a (silent) chair at meetings and a bunk on a tour bus. You traded not being allowed any real social media for a TOUR CREW badge and lanyard. And being the decoy. Most days, it’s worth it. You pass the gate. Shawn’s shoulders relax; you let out a tense breath. It probably says something about your generation, that all the teens you pass are so engrossed in their phones that they don’t even notice an internationally famous musician only a few feet away. Shawn has pulled his hood up, but even underneath his sunglasses you can make out the longing as he stares at the second Starbucks en route to Gate 64. “Relax,” you say. “I’m sure you can get one before we go.” Shawn makes a noise that could be a snort. “Fine,” you amend. “Ava will get you one. Or I will.” He frowns as you round a corner and the sign for Gate 64 finally comes into view. “You know I hate it when you guys have to do stuff like that. You’re not like, a servant at my beck and call.” “I know,” you say, skirting around your sister’s paid capacity as Shawn’s personal assistant. You understand what he means. Ava is actually already sitting at your gate, phone to her ear. Andrew and the rest of the immediate team mill around, chatting. By some miracle – or Andrew and Ava’s impeccable planning – there are no other flights for several hours on either of the gates around you. It’s blissfully quiet. Your sister tilts her head at you as you drop your bag next to her glossy, hard case carry-on. You flash her a thumbs up, and then make a silent drink? gesture at her before nodding at Shawn, who has checked in with his manager and now stands at the floor to ceiling glass wall, staring out at the planes. Ava nods, mmhm-ing to whoever she’s on the phone with. She pulls her wallet from her purse without looking. You procure a twenty and point at your sister, another silent question, who just gives you a grateful smile. You wander over to Andrew and the head of sound, Mike. “Coffee?” you ask. “I’m gonna do a run for Ava.” “Please,” Andrew replies, though Mike shakes his head. “You guys got here okay? I didn’t hear any piercing screams.” The thumbs up you offer Andrew feels as sarcastic as you know how to make a single hand gesture. You don’t know why; you and Shawn are perfectly capable of walking in relative silence without incident, and Andrew is just being silly, but there’s a strange undercurrent of doubt that doesn’t exist when your sister asks things of you. “Two sugars, right?”   “I’ll go with you.”  If even you can catch the way Andrew’s easy smile folds in a little, Shawn can certainly see it too. You think about the conversation that you’ve just had with him and fiddle with the plastic bill in your hands. Shawn’s manager could certainly refuse him, but even that small moment of conflict doesn’t seem like a good way to start a four month journey across the world. “We’ll be quick,” you say. “There’s even one further down.” You point down the seemingly never ending row of empty lounge areas where a sign proclaims that triple digit gates are further ahead. Andrew looks from you, to Shawn, and back again. You can never tell how he feels about having to drag a seventeen year old around to keep Shawn’s most competent personal assistant (Andrew’s words, overheard behind a door almost a year ago), but you feel the leash of your age in moments like this. Shawn is only nineteen of course, but he’s the precious cargo of this trip. You’re just the extra baggage. “Decaf tea,” Andrew says sternly, jolting you back to the present. “Ava has something to help you sleep, Shawn. We need you in the right time zone when we land in Lisbon.” Shawn nods, and that’s that. He pushes his sunglasses back down as you fall into step together. There’s a little bounce in his shoulders which makes you bite back a fond smile. It feels like forever ago that you were starstruck by him. Which isn’t to say you aren’t still, sometimes, watching Shawn perform. But you wouldn’t trade this comfortable silence for anything. “So are you going to tell me?” he asks, when the Starbucks appears like a mirage out of the dreary backdrop of the airport. It’s empty save two men in suits and the baristas, two older women. You look up from texting your sister to confirm what she wants. “Tell you what?” “Why you were so spaced out earlier.” You make a face at him. “What, you don’t trust me?” You can’t reply right away, saved from having to by walking up to the counter to order three chamomile teas and Andrew’s coffee. Shawn flips up his sunglasses; now you catch something peculiar in his expression. “El,” he starts, and to your horror, he looks apologetic. “Shawn, I–” You stop. You’ve forgotten yourself. Be discreet. But no one, including Shawn, seems to have noticed. “Three tall chamomile teas and and a grande black coffee for Ellie?” Shawn’s already reached over your head for the cardboard holder. He smiles at the barista, who blushes a little. Even without his talent and stardom, even unrecognized, Shawn is objectively, undeniably, handsome. You roll your eyes, thank the women, and drop some change in the jar. “Of course I trust you,” you say, once you’re out of earshot of Starbucks. You don’t know why your stomach flips as you say it. Shawn’s smile is small and pleased. You have to concentrate on not blushing, so the rest just tumbles out. “I just had a list, that’s all.” “A list?” You tuck hair behind your ear, a nervous habit. “Of places I wanted to go. And we’re somehow going to be ticking them all off on this tour and it’s just–” You make an expansive gesture at the vastness of the airport. “It’s a bit hard to believe, sometimes. It’s not like I’ll necessarily get to see the sights, but still. Paris, London, Amsterdam.” You glance up, somewhat embarrassed, at Shawn whose expression has gone thoughtful. “I mean, you’ve been to all these places before.” He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not amazing every time.” His excitement lights his eyes. Sometimes, you think, he’s a bit like the sun; beautiful to orbit, hard to look at directly. “I hope I never get used to it.” All you can do is grin at him. Back at the gate, you deliver Andrew’s coffee before setting in beside Ava, who is finally off the phone, but continues to stare at it, scrolling through Twitter. Shawn drops down on Ava’s other side and wraps his long fingers around his tea, inhaling greedily. “Don’t burn your tongue,” Ava says without looking up. “Yes mom.” You smother a laugh into your own first careful sip. The next two hours before boarding feels like it drags by. You want to walk around to stretch your legs before you have to sit for eight hours, but it seems cruel to wander about when Shawn clearly cannot. “Have you called your parents yet?” Ava asks sometime later. You’re suddenly reminded that you haven’t spoken to Hannah in several days. Your best friend will not be pleased. Shawn swears under his breath, ejecting his long limbs from the seat all at once and plucking his phone from his pocket. You have to stifle another laugh. Your eyes follow as he wanders to the next empty lounge, his mouth forms the words, “Hi Mom,” and then you have to turn away from that soft, private smile. You: So I might be out of range for a while – I’m headed out with Ava and we’re doing a ton of traveling. Hannah: Getting dragged around by your sister on the whims of another celebrity? You deserve better than that! You: You know it’s not like that. I like helping Ava. And the celebrities aren’t all bad either. Keeping Ava’s job, Shawn, and the tour a secret has been a struggle. At first, Hannah would try to wheedle the information out of you, or Facetime you at random times to catch you out, which turned into arguments about you not answering your phone. But eventually, you laid out the truth: if you went around advertising the celebrities you got to meet, your sister would lose her job. Simple as that. Hannah had apologized, and for a while, you thought the matter settled. Ava somehow never appears in photos with Shawn, even during a hotel ambush. Hannah didn’t even listen to Shawn’s music when Ava first began working for him, besides the occasional car radio or mall. You were safe. Until she did. Somewhere between “Mercy” and the rest of the Illuminate album, your best friend went from Shawn who? to Shawn Mendes superfan. It was a little scary, honestly. Now you deal with almost millisecond updates from your best friend when Shawn does almost anything, which is especially hilarious when he’s four feet from you when he does them. The gate attendant finally calls boarding for the fourth zone. Ava hands you your passport and your boarding pass, and waves Shawn over for his. shawnmendes just posted a photo. Your account, created while your sister stared over your shoulder, is private and contains no photos. You effectively only use it to follow Hannah, Shawn, and an assortment of other celebrities. You’re not much of a photographer, anyway. You thumb at the notification to reveal a view of the plane, rising up behind empty lounge seats like a mountain. shawnmendes: See you soon Europe! x Hannah: !!! Omg he’s leaving! I can’t believe he’s touring Europe first. “Len!” Ava has her ‘professional’ face on. You type out a quick goodbye and hurry to join her. Now that you’re finally out of that chair and through the boarding gate, the reality of where you’re going starts to sink in. Butterflies start to riot. “Where are you?” Shawn asks, holding up his boarding pass. You straighten yours so he can compare. “Hey A and C, nice!” It makes sense, sitting in the same row as your sister, who would also logically sit with Shawn. It’s not necessarily the seating arrangement that bothers you, or the time; you’ve hung out on tour buses plenty. There’s also that time, in New York last fall. Which you don’t talk about. But you’ve never been this far away from home and you can’t tell how you feel. Having that crisis with Shawn just a foot away is just slightly more than you can possibly handle, right now. You watch as he helps Ava with her carry on, which earns him a gentle pat on the cheek, before he slides into the window seat. It’s just Shawn. Don’t be weird. “Lenny,” Ava calls you forward. “Sit in the middle for me? I’m gonna have to get up a bunch to survive this flight.” Seriously Ava? If your sister notices your inner turmoil, she gives no sign. Your awareness of other people waiting overrides your sudden hysteria, so you shuffle into the row. Shawn’s legs are extended as far as they’ll go, but he still looks comically too big for his seat. You suppose that you can only be grateful for your stature now. You weren’t lying when you told Shawn you weren’t afraid of flying, but it doesn’t mean that take off is pleasant. But he’s leaned back far enough in his seat that you can focus on the sight of Toronto falling away beneath you. He wiggles his fingers at the window, a tiny goodbye, and your heart stumbles a little. Once at cruising, you busy yourself with returning your rings and bracelets to the right places. The one on the first finger of your left hand is hard to look at, sometimes. Ava’s fingers suddenly curl around it and squeeze. You miss your parents suddenly with such fierceness it’s hard to breathe. “Here Shawn.” Ava lets go of your hand to pass Shawn a packet of tiny purple pills as the drinks cart rolls up. “Just one should be fine.” He pops one out and offers it to you, like a stick of gum. “It’s better to sleep, if you can.” Right, you remember abruptly. International pop star. You’ve never taken a sleeping aid before. “I’ll wake you up,” Ava says, stirring her Clamato mix. You feel reassured and then promptly silly, as if you’re not three weeks from your eighteenth birthday. You’ll be in Paris. The thought makes you giddy. Shawn tilts his head against the window, his hood up, and eyes closed. He looks young and unburdened and so normal that you have to consciously pull your eyes away. Halfway through a podcast, the pill hits you like a freight train. You don’t even remember nodding off. You wake up hours later, your mouth full of invisible cotton, inhaling a familiar cologne. The cabin is dark and quiet. It takes a considerable effort not to jerk upright; your head landed on Shawn’s shoulder at some point during the flight. That’s happened before, on the tour bus, in the strange hours of night when you’re leaving a venue and the streets are quiet. You’d doze off for a minute or two in the debrief meeting, before a sudden stop jerked you awake. Normally you’d sit up, self-conscious, and there’d be something teasing in Shawn’s smile before Ava sent you both to bed. You still don’t know why he always just left you there. But this is different. This is Shawn slouched down beside you, his cheek on your hair, the cool mint of the Tums he favours ghosting down against your face. He’s so warm. Sit up, your brain insists. Sit up before he wakes up and it’s weird forever. But your body can’t quite manage it. “Go back to sleep.” You manage to turn your head just enough, but Ava is still, her eye mask firmly in place. Shawn shifts and you freeze. “Sleep, El.” His voice is thick and groggy; Shawn’s nose presses against you. He breathes in and you can feel his body rise against yours. You close your eyes and take a breath. Dawn streaming into the cabin wakes you again, this time against your sister. Shawn is leaning against the window, still asleep, and you convince yourself that the whole thing was a dream. (part two)

[candicereeves]

(( To many to tag so just gonna tag Main: @centralcitysfinest-rp ))

Standing in the Science Lab of the Waverider, Candice debated on what music to put on while she worked. Just as she was about to ask Gideon for some music, a screen near by flicked to life. Looking over at the screen she immediately recognized the man looking at her.

"Gary, to what do I owe the pleasure? I thought our usual D&D game was postponed for this week, or did I miss it? Time gets confusing." Candice said.

"No this isn't about that Candice. At least not this time around. Besides you threw off the whole campaign last session." Gary commented.

"Huh.. almost like when you sent the Legends off in 1980 London." Candice quipped back. Gary adjusted how glasses and gave an awkward chough.

"Right, well anyway I actually called for a reason. Some coincidence that I happen to call you alone in the science lab right?" He said.

"Little creepy when you put it that way." She said watching him. "You do know that if you're creeping up behind me I have no problem torching your ass right?" Candice said.

"I'm not on the Waverider, at least not yet. See the thing is, we actually need you here at the Time Bureau. See we've noticed the Legends have become rather... Well crowded..." Gary said.

"Still not liking where this is going Gary." Candice said as she watched him. Though she did have to admit, he was a bit right, the Legends were crowded on the Waverider.

"Well the thing is in order to help build bridges between the Legends and the Time Bureau, some of you will be working here, present day Central City. You'll be paid, and of course given normal hours. Sort of a nine to five kind of job." He said with a smile as he explained.

"That sounds so corporate. You do know that I like the Waverider for a lot of reasons." She retorted as she grabbed a nearby piece of tech to work on.

"Candice, we're inviting you to help the Time Bureau with tech." Gary said. Looking over she gave a small curious glance.

"Go on." She commented as she watched him.

"We've noticed the stuff you've made. That pistol alone is closer to Rip's pistol than anything our techs could come up with. Plus our time couriers could use some upgrades. You'll get to take them apart." Gary said.

"Fisrt off the Tesla Pistol is a divergent of Rip's pistol, second you're going to allow me to take apart a time courier so I can upgrade them?" She asked.

"Among building weapons and tech. You'll also be responsible for keeping track of the time map. Might of been thanks to a certain dm explaining how well you kept track of events in our D&D game." Gary boasted.

"Really Gary? You used our D&D game to help convince Ava into giving me access to all of that?" Candice asked.

"Possibly." He replied. Letting out a sigh she looked around the lab. "You still want to stay I know. Candice we need you here. Please help the Time Bureau, your our only hope." Gary said.

"You're not gonna Princesses Leia me. I'm not your Obi-Wan." She said with a sigh. "Look if I'm going to join the Time Bureau, there are a lot of things I need." Candice said.

"A list of demands? Candice I can't promise you will get what you want." Gary said. "I mean if it were up to me I would probably say yes." He added.

"That's cause you're a push over Gary. They aren't demands, you already won me over with the time courier. This is a list of things I need in order to work, and possibly to help whoever else is on my team. Wait who is on the team besides me?" Candice asked as she got sidetracked from her own train of thought.

"Well... Let's see, Rip Hunter will be the leader naturally, You as the team technician, Leo Rivera and Leo Snart as the Field Agents, and someone named Terry McGinnis as a Field Agent and History Consultant." Gary explained.

Candice let out a soft giggle at the fact that the team had two Leos. "Ah yes Team Leo, where you don't know who is who." She joked.

"Candice this is a serious list." Gary said as Candice laughed a bit. "Fia! Focus please!" He said trying to get her to focus.

"I'm sorry Gary, but you have to admit Leo and Leo on the same team is so stupid and funny." She said. Gary let out a sigh as Candice calmed down a bit.

"You had a list of demands you were going to make." Gary said. Candice rolled her eyes as she looked back at the screen.

"Not demands, requests. I need my own lab to work in. Not a small crammed room, I need space to work on multiple projects at once." She explained.

"I think that will get approved, I mean that just seems like a no brainier, but you do know that we won't be able to give you anything to big." Gary said.

"Yeah I know, still nice to have room to spread out. Also this is more for the team than just me, we need a meeting room, something kind of like the study on the Waverider, actually it might be better if I just worked up a floor plan." Candice said.

"This is starting to sound like its own building Candice. Pretty sure we can't get that approved." Gary said.

"Trust me it won't be as bad as you're thinking. Just wait til you see the floor plan. In any case, I am going to need to be allowed to play music while I work. Nothing worse than being bored while working on a project." She said with a groan.

"I'll run it by Director Sharp." Gary said. "Is that all?" He asked.

"Let's see, meeting room, personal science lab, kitchen, library, relaxation room, bathrooms, ability to play music, I think that about covers it." Candice said. "I will miss Gideon though, and the others...." She added with a sigh.

"We can see if there is a way for you to keep in contact with Gideon and the others Candice. If you draft up a floor plan I will see what I can do about making it a reality." Gary said.

"I guess I should pack up my room. Well what little stuff I have here on the Waverider." She commented. Letting out a sigh she looked back at the screen. Candice could feel her heart sink a bit, she loved the Waverider and the adventure that came with it.

"I uh... I guess we'll contact you... At the very least I have your number from when we started playing D&D together." Gary said. Candice gave him a nod before the screen turned off.

Looking around, Candice grabbed a few of her items before heading off to her shared room with Zari. Peeking her head in, she didn't see the other woman. "Guess that makes this easier." She said to herself.

Walking away Candice got Gideon to make her a box to store her stuff in. Packing up what little she had, few extra clothes, couple of books, as well as some tech she had built in the science lab, she set off to leave the Waverider.

"Guess this is bye for now Gideon." Candice said as she stood at the cargo door.

"For now Ms. Reeves, but I am sure we will talk again soon." Gideon replied.

"I know, but some dumb science lab at the Time Bureau is nothing like the Waverider. I just... I don't know felt more at home here." Candice said.

"I know Ms. Reeves." Gideon said. Giving the frame of the doorway a light punch tap, she looked up at the com.

"Guess I will see you around Gideon." Candice said as the Cargo door open. Turning away, Candice left the Waverider. As she walked away, she gave one last glance before watching the ship vanish into thin air as the stealth plates hid the ship from sight.

Giving it a moment of thought, Candice didn't want to head home cause she didn't want to potentially wake Charlie, and heading to S.T.A.R. Labs would be kind of creepy without Cisco being around.

Digging into her pocket she pulled out her breeching device. Pressing the button a portal opened and she jumped through. There was no harm in heading home for a small bit, besides at this moment, Candice kind of wanted to be around her parents.

Jumping through the portal she landed in the near identical spot on her Earth. Taking a deep breath, she looked around to make sure no one had seen her. "Now to head home." She said as she pocketed the breeching device.

Walking into her parents house, she closed the door quietly. Setting the box of stuff down as she walked in, she noticed some lights on. "Hello?" She called out.

"Candice? What are you doing home?" A female voice called from the kitchen. Candice walked in and gave her mom a small smile. "Sweetie, you were just here not to long ago, aren't the Legends going to be upset with you for taking so many vacations?" Her mother asked.

"Yeah this is just for a little while, not a full vacation like last time. Where's dad?" Candice asked as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

"He's working late, but he should be home soon. So. What is wrong dear? The girl you like reject you?" Candice's mom asked.

"Mom!" Candice said like a teenager that was embarrassed. "I just.. I'd rather not talk about that right this moment." Candice said.

"Oh sweetie, come here let me give you a hug." Her mom said as she walked around to hug Candice.

"Ah gross! Mom hugs!" Candice joked as she hugged her mom.

"So what is wrong. Something is up I know it. If it isn't the girl, then it's your new team." Her mom said as she walked over to the fridge.

"Yeah. I'm going to be on a new new team. Still the Legends, but working for this group called The Time Bureau." Candice explained.

"Yet you're not happy with the job are you?" Her mom asked. "Aren't they the ones that trapped you in London?" Her mom asked. Candice gave a nod of confirmation. "So why are you working for them instead of being on the ship?" Her mom asked.

"It's a new way to alleviate the crowdedness of the Waverider as well as build bridges with the Time Bureau. I get to be head tech girl for the team, and helping outfit the Bureau with new stuff." Candice explained.

"I get to do a lot of cool stuff for the bureau. I get to take apart some of their closely guarded tech to help improve it and I get my own lab which is nice since I've always been sharing it with someone. However the Waverider afforded me visits to the unknown and being stuck in the present is going to be boring." Candice said.

"It sounds like a more stable job though. One that would afford you more time with that woman you were telling me about last time." Her mom said with a small smile.

"I know and I can go back to volunteering at the hospital for the kids, I missed that while zooming around on the Waverider." Candice said.

The front door opened and a small sound of someone almost tripping came from the main hall. "Lonnie! Why is there a box of crap in the hallway?" A man's voice called out.

"Ted! That isn't a box of crap, that is Candice's stuff." Her mom called back. Though she did give Candice a parental glare at leaving stuff in the hallway.

"Sorry Dad! I thought you were home when I set that stuff down." Candice called out.

"What are you doing home?" He called out as he closed the door.

"Just needed a place for the night. I'll be back on Earth-1 in the morning." Candice called out. "Here let me come move my stuff before you trip again." Candice said as she got up from the table.

Heading into the hallway, she smiled as she saw her dad. Wrapping her arms around him, it was clear that she caught him off guard. The man gave a soft chuckle before hugging her back.

"Everything okay Candice? This is twice in what? A few weeks?" He asked as Candice pulled away from the hug.

"Yeah, but like I said I'm heading back in the morning, just needed a place to stay for the night, and all my Earth-1 places were just not where I needed to be for tonight." She explained as she grabbed her box of stuff.

"Alright pumpkin, what happened?" He asked her.

"Just got transferred from adventure to a lab. That's all. Mom knows more gonna go put this in my room." Candice said as she headed upstairs.

"Wash up while you're up there! Dinner will be ready in a bit." Her mom called out as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Ugh! The worst!" Candice jokingly called back. Reaching her room, she placed the box on her bed before heading to clean up. She didn't really need to eat, but Candice wasn't going to pass up her mom's cooking.

Heading back downstairs she smiled at her parents. "I'd say I'm starving, but I don't lie." Candice joked. Her mom rolled her eyes a bit.

"Doesn't stop you from eating." Her dad joked.

"Look even a nuclear reactor needs fuel and mom does cook some really good food." Candice said.

Her mom slid a plate in front of Candice with a smile. "I caught your dad up on everything." Her mom said.

"So... I have to ask, what is so bad about the Time Bureau?" Her dad asked.

"Well one they have hated the Legends for a while, even getting us stuck in 1980 London for a short time. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm going to go join the Time Bureau branch, but I'm going to miss being able to zip around time." Candice explained.

"You know you didn't used to need time travel to have adventures Candice." Her mom said.

"Yeah well that is cause I worked with the Flash, got kicked off the team, help stop Reverse Flash, sealed up the world ending breech, came back and helped stop Godspeed." Candice explained. "Even then between vanishing and showing back up I was in a new Earth and learning new things." She added.

"Sweetie, you can always learn new things from a stable job like the one at the Time Bureau." Her mom said.

"I know Mom, it's just... I don't know saving time was fun and different. It was learning more about Earth-1 from actual history instead of reading about it in books." Candice said.

"What's wrong with book?" Her dad interjected.

"Nothing dad. It's just what is better, reading history written by the winner of an event, or living through that event in real time?" She asked.

"Fair point, but still I'm sure there is plenty for you to learn from in books." Her dad said.

"I know dad, just I'm going to miss it is all." Candice said.

"There feels like more you're not telling us." Her mom said.

"The Waverider, and the Legends felt like home away from home. We we're all a bunch of people who didn't fit anywhere and oddly enough fit together like a big weird family." Candice explained.

"And you feel like you're loosing that family by being at the Bureau." Her mom commented.

"Yeah.. a bit.. plus the ship has an A.I. named Gideon and I'm going to miss having her around. I asked the Time Bureau if there would be a way for me to keep in contact with Gideon, but stuff has to be approved and what not so I gave them a list of requests." Candice said.

"Please don't tell me you demanded stuff just cause you hate the group." Her mom said with a sigh.

"Mom! I said requests not demands. I plan on working there I just need some things in order to be efficient, my own space to work of stuff hence my own lab to build and tinker with and the ability to play music while I work." Candice said.

"Music can distract you Candice." Her mom said with a sigh. "Don't expect them to hand over that kind of stuff, they are going to have to justify allowing you that kind of freedom. If it comes down to it they might find someone else." Her mom explained.

"Mom, they need me the Legends can make due, Zari is really good at tech for the Waverider, but I built the Tesla gun after getting a glance of Rip's pistol and my speed force knowledge of how to throw lightning. That kind of engineering skills is not something they are just going to avoid just because I asked for some music and my own space to work." Candice said.

"I hope you're right sweetie, I'd hate for you to not get that job." Her mom said. The rest of the meal, they talked about mindless stuff, how things were since she was last there a week ago.

Once they were finished eating, her dad headed off to bed while Candice stayed and helped her mom clean the dishes. "Candice, are you sure you're alright with the job change?" Her mom asked.

"I mean we've already talked about this, I'm having to leave my family for some corporate job." Candice said. Her mom gave a small chuckle at her.

"It's not going to be a corporate job like you say it is dear. If they truly want you to be the head technician of this new team, it sounds like they hold you in high regards. I know another man that wanted to hire you for a corporate job as well." Her mom commented.

"Yeah, but Wells was impressed by my frozen spiders." Candice said with a smile.

"Please don't remind me of those. Do you know how many times I nearly put them in one of my drinks." Her mom said. "And do not get me started on that pet scorpion you had." She added.

"Look you guys bought me the scorpion, not my fault dad got spooked as smashed him with a hammer." Candice said.

"You left him out of his cage. Of course your father freaked out." Her mom said.

"I know, I just left him for a few seconds so I could go to the bathroom. I didn't really he would of traveled so far." She said. "Though I do have to say I was rather impressed by the scream dad let out." Candice said with an amused smile.

"You're dad couldn't speak for a week cause he damaged his vocal cords." Her mom pointed out.

"I know, and I helped be his voice at work that week remember, you guys pulled me out of school so I could help him." Candice said.

"You know, your dad and I worry about you." Her mom said as she dried off her hands.

"I know Mom, I'm okay I promise. I'm still working on the Multiverse phone thing, that way we can stay in contact more often, but it's been challenging getting it to work. Needs more tests and stuff." Candice explained.

Her mom smiled at her and handed over the hand towel. Candice took them and dried off her hands. "Go get some sleep, you have somewhere to be in the morning." Her mom said.

"Mom..." Candice said with a pouting lip. Her mom stared her down and Candice smiled at her. Wrapping her arms around her mom she let out a content sigh. "I love you." She said before heading up to bed.

Her mom smiled at her and returned the words before heading to bed herself. In the morning, Candice grabbed her box of stuff and headed downstairs. She said her goodbyes to her parents before heading out to find a hidden place to breech.

Jumping through the portal, Candice was once more met with the sounds of Earth-1. Letting out a sigh, she headed home to her place, at least long enough to set down the box of stuff. She couldn't lug that around all day.

[triickshots]

— ✧ PHOEBE TONKIN ??  no, that’s just MONICA LAUREL BARTON !! she’s the TWENTY FOUR year old daughter of CHARLES BERNARD BARTON ( TRICKSHOT ), and an UNDERGRAD ( and SELF DEFENSE TA ) at paragon. i hear she’s SELF-RELIANT & TENACIOUS, but tend to be SARDONIC & REACTIVE. her file says that her power is N / A. redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

     i exist only in extremities,                as a forest fire or a HURRICANE,                                 never a light summer rain.

SECTION ONE OF TWO: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings: talk of alcoholism, drug abuse & dealing, death, murder, jail, physical assault / abuse and attempted rape

only daughter of barney barton aka trickshot ( a barely functioning alcoholic ) and jacqueline taylor ( a barely functioning addict of whatever she could get her hands on quickest ), MONICA LAUREL BARTON was born on the fifth of october, 1994, in waverly, iowa.

up until she was three years and two months old, monica lived with both her mother and her father in a rundown farmhouse on the edge of town that had most certainly seen better days. it was never perfect - but in those first few years that flew by far too quickly, there was a kind of balance. it WORKED. barney had his issues. jackie had hers. but they were TRYING. jackie had been clean for six months. barney was more on the wagon than he’d been in twenty years. and then - like so many addicts before him, and like many more that would come after - he fell off of it again in a spectacular fashion, going on a weekend bender that didn’t come to an end until he stumbled in on the tuesday morning right before monica was supposed to be dropped to playschool. he toppled into and knocked the rickety kitchen table and proclaimed, LOUDLY, that the baby could have a day off and spend it with her pops - and as jackie tried to hold her out of his reach ( and the range of his alcohol soaked breath ) she had an epiphany. SHE COULDN’T DO THIS. monica deserved better.

she had two bags packed with essentials just an hour later, and after loading up their shared car, left with monica in tow - never stopping to look back or reconsider. they settled in iowa falls.

she’s four, five, SIX, and her memory of her dad is dim, if not completely gone. she’s growing up, FAST, and jackie can barely keep up - and sometimes, barely keep it together. a prescription pill here and there takes the edge off enough to get by. monica is walking and talking and conversing now and she asks sometimes where her dad is and why he’s never come to her recitals - she imagines, like every little kid in her situation would, all the things her dad would do, and all the things she’d show him, and yet when he turns up out of the blue in a wrinkled old suit, a court order in his hands that says he now gets supervised visitation - she’s suddenly struck shy.

it takes a lot of those supervised visits for her to open up to him. he’s not exactly what she always imagined her dad would be - he doesn’t always know how to respond and never has any ideas for the games they can play in their few hours together - but she makes do. she realizes that he doesn’t know the rules of monopoly or the life game so she asks him to read to her instead, and over the next few years, they got through a lot of books that way, TOGETHER. it was nice.

she was eleven when her mom died. she came home from school early, and she didn’t get a reply when she shouted her greeting. she searched all of their tiny little house, jackie nowhere to be found, and when she came to the bathroom door that wouldn’t budge, she knew she had to call someone. the first person to come to mind was her dad. she remembers sitting on the steps out front, while he broke down the door that was locked from the inside - she remembers hearing his shout, and then his cries, and then, a little while later, the ambulance sirens as they approached the house, but it was too late. when she thinks back now, she understands the word OVERDOSE. at the time, it didn’t really click.

a lot of things had to be smoothed over following that. she couldn’t just go home with her dad - no matter how much she had cried and begged as the cops had led her to their car, kicking and screaming and biting, to wait for social services. over the months that followed, monica was shuffled from foster home to foster home while barney fought the courts. she wasn’t a prime adoptee, so he had that in his favor - but there was a lot of hesitancy in allowing him full custody when he hadn’t had that sort of access to her since she was three years old. too much hesitancy, in fact. not a single person he came up against thought he would be a suitable guardian, and no amount of appeals were overturning the initial no. 

monica was old enough to understand, when her dad turned up in the middle of recess and urged her to leave with him, that it probably wasn’t a good idea. but he was the only familiar thing she had left. he was her DAD. so of course she went with him - against court rulings she didn’t have any knowledge of - and after an extended stay in california ( she remembers the beaches, and the ice cream, and how it was the last time she and her dad were really HAPPY ), they made a triumphant return to the now uninhabitable barton farmhouse, in waverly, where she hadn’t lived in years. as they had pulled up in their tiny little car, he had turned to her with a bright eyed smile and said they could fix it up together again - just like he and her mom had, years before. the caravan out back was only supposed to be temporary. it WASN’T. 

in spite of that, they had a few months of perfect serenity. for a while, barney held it all together, and monica got to just be a KID. then he fell off the wagon again - like clockwork - and things changed. they always had a couple of months peace before a great many more months of chaos, and over time, monica learnt to be the grown up. she was old enough now to know that wasn’t right, but young enough, and with just enough experience of the system, to know that she didn’t want to go back to it - and it wasn’t great, but at least she was with her dad, right? and sometimes, sometimes, she’s lucky enough to be sent away. sent to the OTHER barton’s.

the weeks and months that she would sometimes spend with the other side of the barton family are now memories that monica holds close to her heart. they’re something that she smiles at, when remembering, in spite of herself. they welcomed her with open arms. the kids, her cousins, became her BEST friends - especially ava. uncle clint was always kind, and aunt bobbi...- at a time when monica needed an older woman in her life, aunt bobbi was everything she could have wanted and MORE. she wishes she could have been better, for them.

she wishes she hadn’t ruined things.

fast forward again. she was a bratty fifteen year old with a tongue sharp as a knife and a new name, now, given to her by her new favorite cousin - nikki. it was meant to be a name of love, but it fit the image that she had cultivated for herself. more out of school than she is in it, she’s a party girl. at first, she drank at them to be a part of the in crowd that never really did accept her, and then, she started to take a little bit of something stronger to help her have a good time, and then a LOT of something stronger when she realized it would help get her through the sleepless nights and days when she was taking care of barney and making money i the last deadend job she had instead of going to school. she was far too young to be so exhausted and taking on all these roles that she shouldn’t have had to, just to get through life, and they didn’t really have all that much money, so when a friend of another ex tells her about a job she could do instead of waitressing or delivering newspapers, she was ALL over it. 

the first time she meets callum maarx, it’s in a denny’s parking lot. he’s easily TEN YEARS her senior, but she’s flattered by the attention that the overly charismatic man she shakes hands with gives her, honored when he calls her pretty, touched when he says he knows that she’s a SMART girl. she was. but not smart enough to say no to waverly’s most dangerous drug dealer. 

she wasn’t dealing. that was what she told herself. it wasn’t so bad when SHE wasn’t the one working a street corner and waiting for people to come on by. she was just moving his gear from place to place for him - delivering the sales wherever they needed to be. sometimes that meant skipping school for a couple days to catch a bus across the next state. sometimes it meant feigning interest in visiting the other barton’s, just so she could be nearer to whoever it was she needed to see. sometimes it was the guy next door, and she didn’t have to go ANYWHERE. she never knew, for sure, where she was going or what she was doing until she got a text to say she was needed, but she didn’t want to know, either - something told her, even then, that the less she knew about what she was doing, the BETTER. she was sixteen, when she decided to drop out of school and quit her small town jobs to start working for callum full time.

she realized, at a point, that callum got paid a whole lot more than she originally thought based on her ‘wage’ for each bag she delivered. she had been grateful, of course, at least at first. the huge amount of money coming in meant she had been able to fastrack some of the ‘never completed’ renovations on the house - she and her dad were able to move in, in that first year, and out of the caravan that she had been bullied for over the previous few years. but she got greedy. she was trusted, by then, enough that she thought she could get away with skimming a little powder off the top in lieu of paying for her own growing habit - and she got a black eye for her efforts, and a tarnished reputation that would come back to bite her, later. 

she was a mule and an addict. she wasn’t trailer trash, anymore, wasn’t the girl that she had always been TEASED for being, but in a lot of ways, she was worse. back then, though, she still had HOPE. she believed the best of people. when her high school invited her back for prom, nikki knew it was a mistake to go, but she had never been to a dance - and she really, truly, thought that it would all be OKAY. she goes in a dress that probably cost a lot when it was new but was a hand me down, from ava, and she facetimes her aunt to show her what makeup she had done, and when she gets there, she flies under the radar - keeping to herself, and really attempting to ENJOY the night. she gets voted prom queen. she protests, but the crowd is impossible to push against, all the fellow students she had left behind making her head towards the stage where the head cheerleader, the shoe in, declares her WHITE TRASH QUEEN and shoves a scepter made of beer cans into her hands while her friends place a crown made of the same atop her head. she had always been quick to rage. always had trouble, keeping herself in line. her first instinct was to throw both back at the girls who had given them and exit for the nearest bathroom, to cry. her second, as discovered an hour later, when the would have been prom queen went looking for her boyfriend, was to bang the prom king in the backseat of his car. her third, ejected from the prom once and for all, was to head to callum’s place and ask for something stronger. something she had never TAKEN before. that night is the first night she tried coke. it’s not the last. 

she turned nineteen. it felt like every weekend, she was bailing barney out of the local jail. she was running drugs across a couple towns, or even a couple states, and during the days when she WASN’T being a mule she was working as a chef in a shitty two star restaurant that hadn’t seemed to care she had no qualifications to be working around food. she had received her GED, and she was taking online courses because a part of her was hoping she could still make something of herself, but she was acutely aware, now, of the fact that she was living a life no one would have been proud of. and things got worse. somehow, they still could. 

she realized what her dad did for a living for the first time when his “friends” turned up one afternoon, while she was trying to nap on the couch. she’d only seen them a few times before, and had always been told to leave when they were visiting. more often than not, her dad would disappear with them for a couple days and come back with more money than she could make in a year - but it was always gone quicker than she’d ever have spent it. something must have changed. she wasn’t being told to LEAVE.

instead she sat in and she listened to them talk about their next heist. SHE WEIRDLY WASN’T SURPRISED. they left and came back the next day, and this time nikki served them food, and when there was a break in the conversation as they all went quiet, trying to work out how they could get past a certain level of the security that had them BAFFLED - she dropped a suggestion. it was a good one, and she was allowed, if not ENCOURAGED, to make more. before she knows it, she’s fallen down the rabbithole and pulling off the rare heist with them - all the while continuing to run drugs and doing all the shitty stuff she’s always done, pulling herself in every direction to make things work.

and then she had just turned twenty one and she had a moment of epiphany, not unlike her mother had years before. as she’s looking down at the plans for the next job and whittling the time away until she has to go and pick up her next delivery from callum, she realizes, blankly, that something had to give. she was doing jobs more often now with her dad and his “friends” ( she learned there were airquotes around that word the first time one of them put his hand on her ass during a meeting, as she went around the room with a cheap cheeseboard. no friend of your dad’s would ever do that ) but she’s built up quite the reputation for herself, running drugs for her OWN “friends” ( she’s always known the airquotes that are there. ever since that first and last time, callum had been suspicious of her - and every so often over the years, he’d get it in his head that she must have stolen some of the product to fuel her own habits or even taken some of the money for herself, and she had broken ribs and fingers and bruised eyes and chipped teeth aplenty to show for what had happened each and every time ) - and something would have to give. at this point, she knew she was tempting fate, and eventually … fate was going to bite, hard.

even now - nikki can’t believe she was wrong. she thought it would be shield, or another government branch, who’d catch them out on one of the heists and haul them all to jail. there’d been times where they were only two steps ahead and had almost been able to TASTE the shitty prison food, they were THAT close to getting caught. she’d always sort of believed that was going to be what happened, and she’d let her guard down back home. she was waverly’s best drug runner - she’d stopped thinking that that part of her life, and CALLUM, were even a danger to her. that was a mistake.

here’s the truth: a guy in iowa city, a loyal customer of nearly eight years, had finally hit the bottom of what had seemed like an endless supply of money to waste. he had 180,000 of a 200,000 bill - meaning he was 20,000 short. nikki didn’t realize. it wasn’t her job to count all the money she was being given - she just had to get it from a to b.

here’s the truth that callum convinced himself of as he drove to her farmhouse at 3:40 am that same night, FURIOUS: she had obviously been given the 200,000 by his loyal customer, and she’d taken twenty thousand and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

her dad was out, drinking somewhere in town, or maybe already safe in a jail cell for the night. she didn’t know. a part of her didn’t care, either. she was asleep on the couch when he pulled up outside. when the furious banging had started on the door she had assumed that it was her dad, after forgetting his keys again. him, or the cops, hauling his ass home.

sleepily, she had gotten up and went to open the front door - but as soon as the lock was undone, it was pushed violently into her, and she couldn’t regain her balance in the time that it took for callum to launch himself at her. they fell, him on top, his weight crushing. he had always had a temper. a BAD ONE, like her. she hadn’t always known - had once thought him CHARMING - but all the injuries she had ever been given at his hands, all the times she had found herself in a&e over the years since she had started working for him, they could all attest to the truth. this was different, though. this was murderous, a kind of rage that she had NEVER seen before, and it was obvious that before they got to the finale, he had thought of one other way that he could make back the money he thought she had stolen. 

nikki wasn’t much of a fighter. she had never been formally trained, sloppily using her fists to solve her problems, but never really knowing how to land her shots properly. but she was a SURVIVOR. that had shown itself clearly enough throughout the years. she had survived the system for the three years she was in it. she had survived her dad, and her life, and she had pulled together something out of nothing for herself. even SHITTY, her life was her own. she struggled beneath him and he hit her, over and over, but between it, he was finding a way to begin tearing at her clothes - making his way through them - and gods, she wasn’t going to let this happen. she REFUSED. there was an old iron doorstop in the front hall, that had been in the house since her grandparents had owned it. things were happening fast, he was already at her underwear, she could barely move, but she stretched her arm as much as she could, grimacing through the pain, and she reached, and REACHED, and strained her fingers as far as they could go -

she was a SURVIVOR. she wasn’t going to die. she wasn’t going to let him get what he wanted, either. she doesn’t remember actually hitting him with it. she doesn’t remember how she kept hitting him with it, tears streaming down her face, until he fell away from her and she was able to move away. he wasn’t moving. a half an hour later, she was sat on the front steps of her house, just like she had when she was eleven. waiting. except this time, she was drenched in blood and tears and waiting on the cops that she had called, not her dad, and the person that was dead inside wasn’t her mum, but CALLUM.

she didn’t get much of a fair trial. it was far too cut and dry. on the stand, everything came out - all the things that she had been involved in with him, all the things she had done without - and since he couldn’t face his crimes, she DEFINITELY needed to face hers. she was sentenced within a month to seven years, minimum, without a chance of parole. 

she served three and a half. then, in january this year, the door to her cell swung open and she was told that she was being handed over to SHIELD custody. some sort of a new scheme. nikki hadn’t signed up for any - and knew she wasn’t likely to have been considered, even if she had - and naturally, her survival instincts kicked in. she kicked and screamed and kept telling them she wouldn’t go - 

and inside the room she was lead to was a shield agent. they wanted information on trickshot - still at large, under the radar ever since his daughter’s arrest. they figured she would have everything they needed, and they told her she could walk free ( or, well, more free than she was at present moment - she would have to stay at PARAGON ) if she told them what she knew about charles barton and his associates. she would have been a fool not to agree.

SECTION TWO OF TWO: POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS / WANTED

foster families she lived with for a time, between ages 11 and 13 ! she bounced from home to home a lot, so she’s prob.. stayed w a lot of ppl.

a tutor !

party squad ! i have a wc for four ppl i think that she parties with, but.. gimme.

old clients ! people she would deliver to, people she rubbed shoulders w cause they knew callum. if ur character is ANY sort of a gang member, then we could prob work smth out where callum.. worked w them or smth! 

flings ! current, previous, whatever

i think it’d b super fun to have that guy she slept w at prom sksk he was prom king , was dating the girl who crowned nikki ‘white trash queen’, and ,,, kinda lowkey got used , but like , it’d be FUN .

hmmm ANYTHING.

[truthofherdreams]

pseudonyms

also on ao3

Peter will probably never get used to having MJ in his bed. Not even in a just-had-sex way. In a chilling-on-top-of-the-covers way. She’s lying down on her stomach, laptop open in front of her, feet in the hair. A rebel strand of hair falls in front of her eyes, no matter how many times she blows it away. She’s beautiful. Peter has always known that she is. He has eyes and a brain, after all, and MJ is super attractive, no doubt. But like this, soft and unguarded, a pencil stuck between her teeth, she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. On earth or otherwise. And he’s been in space. He knows his shit.

“Michelle Jones is taken,” she tells him, not looking up from her screen.

He’s sitting in the floor, working on his suit and pretending like he isn’t distracted every five seconds by her long legs. It’s the middle of summer and she’s only wearing shorts. He’s so distracted.

“Maybe add an initial, Michael B. Jordan style? Michelle J. Jones?”

She wrinkles her nose, unconvinced. Too deep in her thoughts to insult him about his dumb idea, though, which shows how much she cares about the thing. Her first proper job as an actress, paid and everything, one-way ticket to the actors guild. Except some white actress from the 70s stole her name. The drama.

“Don’t like the alliteration,” she answers. “It won’t roll on the tongue of whoever will announce my Oscar.”

Peter can’t help but laugh,and he gives up on fixing this minor problem on his suit just so he can go and sit next to MJ on his bed. She doesn’t look up at him but she does let him pet her hair, which is even better. Her hair is the softest thing he’s ever touched, even softer than Rocket’s fur. And that’s saying something.

“Your Oscar? Got it all figured out and stuff?”

“Well, yeah,” she grins. She does look up at him this time, eyes shining. Yep, definitely the most beautiful like, ever. “Get a few good roles, climb my way to more interesting projects. Meet Taika Waititi, he casts me in his movie. We spend time together in New Zealand and I become his muse. I’m in all his movies now. He introduces me to Ava DuVernay. She takes me under her wing and she teaches me everything, because we need more black women as directors. My first movie is a success. Everyone loves me. I keep writing on the side. I become the youngest PEGOT in history. Lin-Manuel Miranda isn’t even mad I beat him to it. He writes the music for the biopic about me they eventually make. He wins his Oscar for the score. All is well in the world.”

She’s grinning now, one of her rare not-sarcastic smiles. Peter can’t help but grin back. It’s the most she’s ever spoken in one go, probably. He wasn’t so sure at first, when she started acting, because it didn’t exactly sound like a MJ thing to do. But she loves it, as much as she loves social justice and him, and her happiness is his favourite thing in the world.

“Of course, I meet John Boyega and he falls in love with me,” she adds, shit-eating grin and everything. Peter groans, and she laughs. “But I let him down nicely because that ass already belongs to a nerdy white dude.”

It always makes his heart do a weird flip-flop thing in his chest, when she says she belongs to him. He would never say it, out loud or otherwise, because she’s MJ and she doesn’t belong to anyone, let alone him. But sometimes she will grab him by his neck and whispers furiously against his lips. Something about how he’s hers and she’s his and all those lines you only find in cheesy movies. Or she will introduce him as her boyfriend, and his heart will burst in his chest.

When they first started dating, she did that weird thing where she would describe their relationship in the weirdest way possible. ‘That’s Peter, my human puppy’ or ‘Have you met Peter, he thinks movie dates are overrated’ or ‘Yeah, Peter and I share saliva, why do you care?’ Which he quickly learnt was her way to show she cared without actually showing she cared, because she was still MJ and cheesy bullshit was not her thing. (Her words, not his.)

But then there was this one time at Flash’s birthday party, where a drunk girl kept throwing herself at him and he had no idea what to do or how to react or how to push her away without touching any sensitive parts. The nightmare. And MJ has shown up out of nowhere, in her fierce Amazon glory, and pulled the girl away from him, shoved a glass of water in her hands. “Sorry, honey but he already has a girlfriend. Did you come with someone? Do you want me to call you a Uber?” and Peter knew he was in love with her, had known for a while. But this was her first time claiming him, and he never forgot it.

He’s into that cheesy bullshit, after all.

So he grabs her chin and leans down to kiss her, all weird angles and stuff. It’s too uncomfortable to linger, and he plops down by her side instead, staring up at the ceiling. She rub her nose against his cheek, just once, like a cat who caught itself in a moment of weakness. Damn, but he loves her.

“I would dump me for John Boyega,” he comments.

“Glad you’ve got your priorities straight,” she replies with a grin. He snorts a laugh at the joke. She’s always had to most wicked sense of humour about his sexuality, and her pun is on point as always. “But sadly I’m attached to you so…”

“No other weirdo would bother learning your impossible coffee order,” he agrees.

She rolls her eyes with a huff, before she focuses back on her laptop. But there’s still the ghost of a smile on her lips, like she’s charmed by his nerdiness but can’t believe she is. Years of this, and it’s like she’s still not used to it. He finds it hilarious as hell.

“Can’t marry John Boyega if I don’t have a new name, though.”

You can have mine, he wants to tell her, but his brain shortcuts at the thought. They’re still young. She’d probably say marriage is a heterocentric tradition based on patriarchal values. They’re so fucking young. He’d be Peter Jones and not the other way around anyway, and he’d fucking love it. He loves it already. Gosh it does sound nice. He’s so fucked.

Peter purses his lips, staring up at the ceiling. He’s never been good with names, and he’s pretty sure MJ is waiting for the right moment to call him out on it. “What are we studying in English right now? Conan Doyle?”

She hums. “Michelle Holmes is a little on the nose, even coming from you, Spider Boy.”

(See?)

“No, but. Like. Michelle Watson.”

She types on the computer. “Taken.”

“MJ Watson?”

She doesn’t say anything for a very long times, eyes fixed on her screen but not moving. Her hair falls in front of her face once more but she doesn’t push it away, proof that she’s deep in thought about it. Which is scary, sometimes, because she can spend more than ten minutes like this, still as a statue. Peter used to wonder if she was falling asleep with her eyes open, but no.

He raises a hand to tug the hair behind her ear once more, and brushes his knuckles against her cheek. She blinks, just once, which makes him smile. “It’s very important to you, isn’t it?”

When she finally looks at him, vulnerability flashes through her eyes. She will probably deny it ever happening if he asks, but Peter knows. He knows he’s one of the few people allowed to see that side of her, and what it means. That she trusts him, completely, with her thoughts and her feelings and her everything. He has no idea why, because he feels like he doesn’t deserve this, or her, half of the time but. He’s honoured. Really.

“It is,” she admits at last.

Peter offers her a grin, sitting up just long enough to kiss her before he plops back on the bed. “I know only friends can call you MJ, but. Like. MJ Watson and MMJ Jones are not the same. She’s just actress you. Not real you. Like, I’m Peter and I’m Spider Man, and you can be MJ Jones and MJ Watson. And it’s the same but, also. It isn’t. Does it make sense? It doesn’t make sense.”

She’s smiling now, one of those secret half-smiles she always tries to keep hidden until they reach her eyes. When she kisses him again, it’s longer, more meaningful, until Peter can’t breath anymore because his lungs are filled with her and his mind is racing to the beating of her heart.

“John Boyega has nothing on you,” she whispers against his lips.

“Let’s not go that far.”

She laughs, and kisses him again. “Yeah, almost nothing.”

“Better.”

[parabcllums]

⌜   PHOEBE TONKIN, CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER   |   angel of small death and the codeine scene by hozier, melancholic, the amy elliot dunne   ⌟    ⏤   blink and you’ll miss MONICA LAUREL BARTON, the TWENTY FOUR year old daughter of CHARLES BERNARD “BARNEY” BARTON ! they’re an UNDERGRAD student at paragon academy, and i’ve always found them to be pretty SELF RELIANT & RELENTLESS, though i’ve heard that they can also be really SARDONIC & REACTIVE. i don’t think getting their way is a smart thing to do - everyone knows that their ability is SEXUAL PROWESS & VIOLENT SELF DESTRUCTION. redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

what did you EVER do to deserve THIS?                 in all PROBABILITY, something terrible.

SECTION ONE OF TWO: BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings: talk of alcoholism, drug abuse & dealing, death, murder, jail, physical assault / abuse and attempted rape

only daughter of barney barton aka trickshot ( a barely functioning alcoholic ) and jacqueline taylor ( a barely functioning addict of whatever she could get her hands on quickest ), MONICA LAUREL BARTON was born on the fifth of october, 1994, in waverly, iowa.

up until she was three years and two months old, monica lived with both her mother and her father in a rundown farmhouse on the edge of town that had most certainly seen better days. it was never perfect - but in those first few years that flew by far too quickly, there was a kind of balance. it WORKED. barney had his issues. jackie had hers. but they were TRYING. jackie had been clean for six months. barney was more on the wagon than he’d been in twenty years. and then - like so many addicts before him, and like many more that would come after - he fell off of it again in a spectacular fashion, going on a weekend bender that didn’t come to an end until he stumbled in on the tuesday morning right before monica was supposed to be dropped to playschool. he toppled into and knocked the rickety kitchen table and proclaimed, LOUDLY, that the baby could have a day off and spend it with her pops - and as jackie tried to hold her out of his reach ( and the range of his alcohol soaked breath ) she had an epiphany. SHE COULDN’T DO THIS. monica deserved better.

she had two bags packed with essentials just an hour later, and after loading up their shared car, left with monica in tow - never stopping to look back or reconsider. they settled in iowa falls.

she’s four, five, SIX, and her memory of her dad is dim, if not completely gone. she’s growing up, FAST, and jackie can barely keep up - and sometimes, barely keep it together. a prescription pill here and there takes the edge off enough to get by. monica is walking and talking and conversing now and she asks sometimes where her dad is and why he’s never come to her recitals - she imagines, like every little kid in her situation would, all the things her dad would do, and all the things she’d show him, and yet when he turns up out of the blue in a wrinkled old suit, a court order in his hands that says he now gets supervised visitation - she’s suddenly struck shy.

it takes a lot of those supervised visits for her to open up to him. he’s not exactly what she always imagined her dad would be - he doesn’t always know how to respond and never has any ideas for the games they can play in their few hours together - but she makes do. she realizes that he doesn’t know the rules of monopoly or the life game so she asks him to read to her instead, and over the next few years, they got through a lot of books that way, TOGETHER. it was nice.

she was eleven when her mom died. she came home from school early, and she didn’t get a reply when she shouted her greeting. she searched all of their tiny little house, jackie nowhere to be found, and when she came to the bathroom door that wouldn’t budge, she KNEW she had to call someone. the first person to come to mind was her dad. she remembers sitting on the steps out front, while he broke down the door that was locked from the inside - she remembers hearing his shout, and then his cries, and then, a little while later, the ambulance sirens as they approached the house, but it was too late. when she thinks back now, she understands the word OVERDOSE. at the time, it didn’t really click.

a lot of things had to be smoothed over following that. she couldn’t just go home with her dad - no matter how much she had cried and begged as the cops had led her to their car, KICKING AND SCREAMING AND BITING, to wait for social services. over the months that followed, monica was shuffled from foster home to foster home while barney fought the courts. she wasn’t a prime adoptee, so he had THAT in his favor - but there was a lot of hesitancy in allowing him full custody when he hadn’t had that sort of access to her since she was three years old. too much hesitancy, in fact. not a single person he came up against thought he would be a suitable guardian, and no amount of appeals were overturning the initial NO.

monica was old enough to understand, when her dad turned up in the middle of recess and urged her to leave with him, that it probably wasn’t a good idea. but he was the only familiar thing she had left. he was her DAD. so of course she went with him - against court rulings she didn’t have any knowledge of - and after an extended stay in california ( she remembers the beaches, and the ice cream, and how it was the last time she and her dad were really HAPPY ), they made a triumphant return to the now uninhabitable barton farmhouse, in waverly, where she hadn’t lived in YEARS. as they had pulled up in their tiny little car, he had turned to her with a bright eyed smile and said they could fix it up together again - just like he and her mom had, years before. the caravan out back was only supposed to be temporary. it WASN’T.

in spite of that, they had a few months of perfect serenity. for a while, barney held it all together, and monica got to just be a KID. then he fell off the wagon again - LIKE CLOCKWORK - and things changed. they always had a couple of months peace before a great many more months of chaos, and over time, monica learnt to be the grown up. she was old enough now to know that wasn’t right, but young enough, and with just enough experience of the system, to know that she didn’t want to go back to it - and it wasn’t great, but at least she was with her dad, right? and sometimes, SOMETIMES, she’s lucky enough to be sent away. sent to the OTHER barton’s.

the weeks and months that she would sometimes spend with the other side of the barton family are now memories that monica holds close to her heart. they’re something that she SMILES at, when remembering, in spite of herself. they welcomed her with open arms. the kids, her cousins, became her BEST friends - ESPECIALLY ava. uncle clint was always kind, and aunt bobbi…- at a time when monica needed an older woman in her life, aunt bobbi was everything she could have wanted and MORE. she wishes she could have been better, for them.

she wishes she hadn’t ruined things.

fast forward again. she was a bratty fifteen year old with a tongue sharp as a knife and a new name, now, given to her by her new favorite cousin - NIKKI. it was meant to be a name of love, but it fit the image that she had cultivated for herself. more out of school than she is in it, she’s a party girl. AT FIRST, she drank at them to be a part of the IN CROWD that never really did accept her, and then, she started to take a little bit of something stronger to help her have a good time, and then a LOT of something stronger when she realized it would help get her through the sleepless nights and days when she was taking care of barney and making money i the last deadend job she had instead of going to school. she was far too young to be so exhausted and taking on all these roles that she shouldn’t have had to, just to get through life, and they didn’t really have all that much money, so when a friend of another ex tells her about a job she could do INSTEAD of waitressing or delivering newspapers, she was ALL over it.

the first time she meets CALLUM MAARX, it’s in a denny’s parking lot. he’s easily TEN YEARS her senior, but she’s flattered by the attention that the overly charismatic man she shakes hands with gives her, honored when he calls her PRETTY, touched when he says he knows that she’s a SMART girl. she was. but not smart enough to say no to waverly’s most DANGEROUS drug dealer.

SHE wasn’t dealing. that was what she told herself. it wasn’t so bad when SHE wasn’t the one working a street corner and waiting for people to come on by. she was just moving his gear from place to place for him - delivering the sales wherever they needed to be. sometimes that meant skipping school for a couple days to catch a bus across the next state. sometimes it meant feigning interest in visiting the other barton’s, just so she could be nearer to whoever it was she needed to see. sometimes it was the guy next door, and she didn’t have to go ANYWHERE. she never knew, for sure, where she was going or what she was doing until she got a text to say she was needed, but she didn’t want to know, either - something told her, even then, that the less she knew about what she was doing, the BETTER. she was sixteen, when she decided to drop out of school and quit her small town jobs to start working for callum FULL TIME.

she realized, at a point, that callum got paid a whole lot more than she originally thought based on her ‘wage’ for each bag she delivered. she had been grateful, of course, at least at first. the huge amount of money coming in meant she had been able to fastrack some of the ‘never completed’ renovations on the house - she and her dad were able to move in, in that first year, and out of the caravan that she had been BULLIED for over the previous few years. but she got greedy. she was trusted, by then, enough that she thought she could get away with skimming a little powder off the top in lieu of paying for her own growing habit - and she got a BLACK EYE for her efforts, and a tarnished reputation that would come back to bite her, later.

she was a MULE and an ADDICT. she wasn’t trailer trash, anymore, wasn’t the girl that she had always been TEASED for being, but in a lot of ways, she was WORSE. back then, though, she still had HOPE. she believed the best of people. when her high school invited her back for prom, nikki knew it was a mistake to go, but she had never been to a DANCE - and she really, truly, thought that it would all be OKAY. she goes in a dress that probably cost a lot when it was new but was a hand me down, from ava, and she facetimes her aunt to show her what makeup she had done, and when she gets there, she flies under the radar - keeping to herself, and really attempting to ENJOY the night. she gets voted prom queen. she protests, but the crowd is impossible to push against, all the fellow students she had left behind making her head towards the stage where the head cheerleader, the SHOE IN, declares her WHITE TRASH QUEEN and shoves a scepter made of beer cans into her hands while her friends place a crown made of the same atop her head. she had always been quick to RAGE. always had trouble, keeping herself in line. her first instinct was to throw both back at the girls who had given them and exit for the nearest bathroom, to cry. her second, as discovered an hour later, when the would have been prom queen went looking for her boyfriend, was to bang the prom king in the backseat of his car. her third, ejected from the prom once and for all, was to head to CALLUM’S PLACE and ask for something STRONGER. something she had never TAKEN before. that night is the first night she tried coke. it’s not the last.

she turned nineteen. it felt like every weekend, she was bailing barney out of the local jail. she was running drugs across a couple towns, or even a couple STATES, and during the days when she WASN’T being a MULE she was working as a chef in a shitty two star restaurant that hadn’t seemed to care she had no qualifications to be working around food. she had received her GED, and she was taking online courses because a part of her was hoping she could still make something of herself, but she was acutely aware, now, of the fact that she was living a life no one would have been proud of. and things got worse. somehow, they still could.

she realized what her dad did for a living for the first time when his “friends” turned up one afternoon, while she was trying to nap on the couch. she’d only seen them a few times before, and had always been told to leave when they were visiting. more often than not, her dad would disappear with them for a couple days and come back with more money than she could make in a year - but it was always gone quicker than she’d ever have spent it. something must have changed. she wasn’t being told to LEAVE.

instead she sat in and she listened to them talk about their next heist. SHE WEIRDLY WASN’T SURPRISED. they left and came back the next day, and this time nikki served them food, and when there was a break in the conversation as they all went quiet, trying to work out how they could get past a certain level of the security that had them BAFFLED - she dropped a suggestion. it was a good one, and she was allowed, if not ENCOURAGED, to make more. before she knows it, she’s fallen down the rabbithole and pulling off the rare heist with them - all the while continuing to run drugs and doing all the shitty stuff she’s always done, pulling herself in every direction to make things work.

and then she had just turned twenty one and she had a moment of epiphany, not unlike her mother had years before. as she’s looking down at the plans for the next job and whittling the time away until she has to go and pick up her next delivery from callum, she realizes, blankly, that something had to give. she was doing jobs more often now with her dad and his “friends” ( she learned there were airquotes around that word the first time one of them put his hand on her ass during a meeting, as she went around the room with a cheap cheeseboard. no friend of your dad’s would ever do that ) but she’s built up quite the reputation for herself, running drugs for her OWN “friends” ( she’s always known the airquotes that are there. ever since that first and last time, callum had been suspicious of her - and every so often over the years, he’d get it in his head that she must have stolen some of the product to fuel her own habits or even taken some of the money for herself, and she had broken ribs and fingers and bruised eyes and chipped teeth aplenty to show for what had happened each and every time ) - and something would have to give. at this point, she knew she was tempting fate, and eventually … fate was going to bite, hard.

even now - nikki can’t believe she was wrong. she thought it would be shield, or another government branch, who’d catch them out on one of the heists and haul them all to jail. there’d been times where they were only two steps ahead and had almost been able to TASTE the shitty prison food, they were THAT close to getting caught. she’d always sort of believed that was going to be what happened, and she’d let her guard down back home. she was waverly’s best drug runner - she’d stopped thinking that that part of her life, and CALLUM, were even a danger to her. that was a mistake.

here’s the truth: a guy in iowa city, a loyal customer of nearly eight years, had finally hit the bottom of what had seemed like an endless supply of money to waste. he had 180,000 of a 200,000 bill - meaning he was 20,000 short. nikki didn’t realize. it wasn’t her job to count all the money she was being given - she just had to get it from a to b.

here’s the truth that callum convinced himself of as he drove to her farmhouse at 3:40 am that same night, FURIOUS: she had obviously been given the 200,000 by his loyal customer, and she’d taken twenty thousand and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

her dad was out, drinking somewhere in town, or maybe already safe in a jail cell for the night. she didn’t know. a part of her didn’t care, either. she was asleep on the couch when he pulled up outside. when the furious banging had started on the door she had assumed that it was her dad, after forgetting his keys again. him, or the cops, hauling his ass home.

sleepily, she had gotten up and went to open the front door - but as soon as the lock was undone, it was pushed VIOLENTLY into her, and she couldn’t regain her balance in the time that it took for callum to launch himself at her. they fell, him on top, his weight CRUSHING. he had always had a temper. a BAD ONE, like HER. she hadn’t always known - had once thought him CHARMING - but all the injuries she had ever been given at his hands, all the times she had found herself in a&e over the years since she had started working for him, they could all attest to the truth. this was different, though. this was MURDEROUS, a kind of rage that she had NEVER seen before, and it was obvious that before they got to the finale, he had thought of one OTHER way that he could make back the money he thought she had stolen.

nikki wasn’t much of a fighter. she had never been formally trained, sloppily using her fists to solve her problems, but never really knowing how to land her shots PROPERLY. but she was a SURVIVOR. that had shown itself clearly enough throughout the years. she had survived the system for the three years she was in it. she had survived her dad, and her life, and she had pulled together SOMETHING out of nothing for herself. even SHITTY, her life was her own. she struggled beneath him and he hit her, over and over, but between it, he was finding a way to begin tearing at her clothes - making his way THROUGH them - and gods, she wasn’t going to let this happen. she REFUSED. there was an old iron doorstop in the front hall, that had been in the house since her grandparents had owned it. things were happening FAST, he was already at her underwear, she could barely move, but she stretched her arm as much as she could, grimacing through the pain, and she REACHED, and REACHED, and strained her fingers as far as they could go -

she was a SURVIVOR. she wasn’t going to die. she wasn’t going to let him get what he wanted, either. she doesn’t remember actually hitting him with it. she doesn’t remember how she KEPT hitting him with it, tears streaming down her face, until he fell away from her and she was able to move away. he wasn’t moving. a half an hour later, she was sat on the front steps of her house, just like she had when she was eleven. WAITING. except this time, she was drenched in blood and tears and waiting on the cops that she had called, not her dad, and the person that was dead inside wasn’t her mum, but CALLUM.

she didn’t get much of a fair trial. it was far too cut and dry. on the stand, everything came out - all the things that she had been involved in with him, all the things she had done without - and since he couldn’t face HIS crimes, she DEFINITELY needed to face hers. she was sentenced within a month to seven years, minimum, without a chance of parole.

she served three and a half. then, in january this year, the door to her cell swung open and she was told that she was being handed over to SHIELD custody. some sort of a new SCHEME. nikki hadn’t signed up for any - and knew she wasn’t likely to have been considered, even if she had - and naturally, her survival instincts kicked in. she kicked and screamed and kept telling them she WOULDN’T go -

and inside the room she was lead to was a shield agent. they wanted information on TRICKSHOT - still at large, under the radar ever since his daughter’s arrest. they figured she would have everything they needed, and they told her she could WALK FREE ( or, well, more free than she was at present moment - she would have to stay at PARAGON ) if she told them what she knew about charles barton and his associates. she would have been a fool not to agree.

SECTION TWO OF TWO: POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS / WANTED

foster families she lived with for a time, between ages 11 and 13 ! she bounced from home to home a lot, so she’s prob.. stayed w a lot of ppl.

a tutor !

party squad ! i have a wc for four ppl i think that she parties with, but.. gimme.

old clients ! people she would deliver to, people she rubbed shoulders w cause they knew callum. if ur character is ANY sort of a gang member, then we could prob work smth out where callum.. worked w them or smth!

flings ! current, previous, whatever

i think it’d b super fun to have that guy she slept w at prom sksk he was prom king , was dating the girl who crowned nikki ‘white trash queen’, and ,,, kinda lowkey got used , but like , it’d be FUN .

hmmm ANYTHING.

[feuilledrabbles]

Told ya there’d be a part II

Part I

For @francis-the-fuckface (help on your exams, lol)

Allistor leaned back in his chair, the two front legs leaving the ground as he rocked himself back and forth. He raised a single thick eyebrow at the sight of his cousin in front of him, who was pacing and shaking her hands out.

Eventually he pushed forward and landed all four legs of the chair on the ground, leaning on his knees and staring at the redhead before him. “You’ll wear a rut in the floor before yeh feel calm.”

Ava glared at him and took another step forward just to spite him. “That doesn’t help me. At all.”

“C’mon, it’s just an interview.” His eyes followed her for a few more steps. “You’ll get yer hair mussed if yeh keep doin’ that.”

She paused. “Lars told me my temper would get me kicked out of all law firms.”

Allistor nodded sagely then snorted. “Lars doesn’t matter. He’s the competition, anyway. Beat him into next week, Av.”

She took a deep breath and straightened herself out, swiping all of the wrinkles out of her suit and pushing her shoulders back. “I got this.”

“Absolutely.” Allistor confirmed, eyes wandering around the room. His gaze landed on the clock and he narrowed his eyes at it, unsure why an uneasy feeling was creeping through him.

Ava glanced his way. “Don’cha have a shift right about now?”

A streak of panic shot through Allistor like a bullet. “Shit!” He scrambled to his feet and alighted out the door, oblivious to his cousin’s soft laughter and more relaxed stature.

He sprinted to the tea cafe, taking a glance at his watch every so often and muttering a slew of curses under his breath. A woman shot him a glare at his dirty mouth but he paid her no mind, too busy looking between the minute hand on his watch and the approaching sign of Britannia's Tea Café.

He swung around a pole and darted into the building, ignoring the man - who had yelped out a swear word - he had passed on the way in. Allistor stumbled into the back room and spread out his arms. “Not late!”

“No.” Astrid, the old woman who owned the cafe, hummed lowly. “Not quite.” She looked him up and down with a sharp eye. “Get changed and take the front. Ava is not coming in, I presume?”

“No, miss.” Allistor said instinctively. He was not a polite person by nature. In fact, he normally went out of his way to be impolite, just to see reactions (and out of spite). However, Astrid was a woman of great presence and grace, and deserved everyone’s respect and more.

She was also scary as hell, and one of the very few people that Allistor was genuinely scared of. Wait- make that the only person.

Nobody crossed Astrid. Those who did… well. Allistor didn’t know what had come of them. He had never seen them again.

“Sorry fer the wait, we’re low on staff right now,” Allistor said with the cheeriest voice he could manage. He hated working up front, and Astrid knew this. However, when he saw the first person in line his brain restarted.

“Oh, hello,” he said much smoother, leaning against the counter for extra effect. “And what can I get fer yeh today?”

The man with the vibrant green eyes was not impressed. “Just an Earl Grey, if you please.”

Allistor’s intrigued eyebrows dropped flat. Earl Grey? The most generic tea there ever was?

“One Earl Grey, coming right up. To go or fer here?” He straightened out. Perhaps there was some redeeming quality about this man. He did like tea, after all.

The man was quiet, gazing around the cafe. There were two other customers, the two engaged in their own life and conversation to be bothered by what was happening up front. It was quiet and the musty smell of tea leaves filled the relaxed atmosphere.

“To go or fer here?” Allistor asked again, annoyance seeping into his tone. One of his hands involuntarily came up to rest on his hip.

The man started. “Oh, for here.” He fidgeted where he stood, seeming to be stuck between two decisions.

Allistor paused in the midst of pouring water and he set the pitcher down lightly, carefully wording his next sentence. “Is there something else yeh need?”

His green eyes flickered between a table and Allistor’s gaze. “Er, not particularly. Only- well, I was wondering- er, what’s your favorite type of music?” He finally blurted out.

“Eh…” Allistor blinked a few times, caught off guard with the random question. “At the moment I’m partial to folk.”

He nodded once then turned on his heel to slump into the same chair he had been in a week or so before, pulling his laptop out of his bag and setting it onto the table, plugging some headphones in and sticking them in his ears. Allistor watched him with a smirk on his face and finished fixing the man’s drink. Whoever he was, he certainly was interesting.

[elderflowerchampagne]

Tennessee on Hudson

Sorry for the delay, guys. Been running wild all week.

I really loved Tennessee on Hudson! I figured I’d just do one of my regular recaps for it. I saw both shows, and I’m glad I did. I was scared it was going to be like The Grand Paradise, which I spent stressing because I made bad choices and was kept away from everyone I wanted to see.

I was unsure at first whether or not we were actually supposed to move, but I was perfectly content to sit there and watch Mallory play a crack whore. I know my loyalties are pretty obvious, but I really do think she fared the best out of anyone in the production. It amazed me how little she sounded like herself.

Once I figured out that we were able to go wherever we wanted I got up and started charging around the way I usually do at the McK. I have this recurring dream where I’m in some SNM-like thing but with many more characters and in an unfamiliar space. This was like that. It was stressful to turn and see actors everywhere, all doing equally interesting things, but I was happy to find that the space was not too large to manage.

I followed Mallory for a little while. She did a great monologue about not knowing where tears come from. I was initially bummed she didn’t pick me for her 1:1-type thing, then immediately felt better when I realized it would have involved telling her how many times I’ve been in love and with whom. Shout out to her for not putting me on that spot.

I glommed onto Robi for a while. I’ve missed her presence in the McK so much. I was beside her while she watched the scene from The Pink Bedroom play out on the stage, and then suddenly she turned and asked me my name and what I want to be. I said a writer, but if I’d had more time to think about it I would have said a mother.

The first show was really overwhelming, because no matter where I was I could hear what was happening elsewhere. I did see Ginger playing Maggie the Cat, in the scene where Brick tries to kill her with the crutch. I saw a really wonderful excerpt from Suddenly, Last Summer, but I bailed early because I was preoccupied with seeing people I knew. If I wasn’t I would have definitely stuck around, as well as paid more attention to the scenes from The Rose Tattoo. The girl playing Serafina did an Italian accent that was so perfect I googled her to see if she’s actually Italian. She is not.

I spent a long time with Chelsey Ng. She did a really wonderful scene, though I don’t know which play it was from. I also got her 1:1. It was odd to have that moment out in the open, when I’m so used to it being behind closed doors. It made it feel precarious, like someone could barge in and wreck it at any time.

Towards the end of the first show I sat down with Brick and Maggie, not expecting them to talk to me. I’ve said many times I don’t like talking to the bar characters at the McK because I feel implicated in keeping up the charade, but it was easier in this context because I knew the play. It was actually really fun to hear them adlib and see how they reacted when I asked about their children.

I was more at ease during the second show, and ventured further away from the people I had come to see. I spent a while talking to the girl playing the burlesque dancer. She was really wonderful, and I could tell she had put a lot of thought into her character. She referred me to her boss, so I also talked with him.

At some point in the night Ava Lee Scott shoved a glass of champagne at me so I let it be known I like her a lot.

Just when I thought I had a handle on the rules of the place, I pulled aside a curtain and found my stripper friend on the other side. She asked me to come sit down, and when I did I saw that I was alone with her, the actor playing Mitch, Andrea, and her real-life boyfriend. After forcing nervous small talk for a few minutes I for some reason pointed out that I was the only unpaired person in the room, to which Mitch yelled JOIN THE CLUB, KELLY. And then Andrea or whoever she was playing (I think she said Helen?) asked me what I’m looking for in a man, and then praise Jesus that was the exact second Karin came looking for me. Because I was about to say, “Red hair and the inability to speak.”

I’m as grumpy as the rest of you about the Mayfair bar debacle, though I did get an email saying they upgraded me to Max’s List. I don’t mind so much. We’ll all just have to look extra good, because (I’m quoting Cartman) they’ve obviously decided to fuck us.

xoxox

K