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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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When the app tries to make you robo-scab

When we talk about the abusive nature of gig work, there’s some obvious targets, like algorithmic wage discrimination, where two workers are paid different rates for the same job, in order to trick occasional gig-workers to give up their other sources of income and become entirely dependent on the app:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Then there’s the opacity — imagine if your boss refused to tell you how much you’ll get paid for a job until after you’ve completed it, claimed that this was done in order to “protect privacy” — and then threatened anyone who helped you figure out the true wage on offer:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#boss-app

Opacity is wage theft’s handmaiden: every gig worker producing content for a social media algorithm is subject to having their reach — and hence their pay — cut based on the unaccountable, inscrutable decisions of a content moderation system:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Making content for an algorithm is like having a boss that docks every paycheck because you broke rules that you are not allowed to know, because if you knew the rules, you’d figure out how to cheat without your boss catching you. Content moderation is the last place where security through obscurity is considered good practice:

https://doctorow.medium.com/como-is-infosec-307f87004563

When workers seize the means of computation, amazing things happen. In Indonesia, gig workers create and trade tuyul apps that let them unilaterally modify the way that their bosses’ systems see them — everything from GPS spoofing to accessibility mods:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

So the tech and labor story isn’t wholly grim: there are lots of ways that tech can enhance labor struggles, letting workers collaborate and coordinate. Without digital systems, we wouldn’t have the Hot Strike Summer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

As the historic writer/actor strike shows us, the resurgent labor movement and the senescent forces of crapulent capitalism are locked in a death-struggle over not just what digital tools do, but who they do it for and who they do it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

When it comes to the epic fight over who technology acts for and against, we need a diversity of tactics, backstopped by tech operated by and for its users — and by laws that protect workers and the public. That dynamic is in sharp focus in UNITE Here Local 11’s strike against Orange County’s Laguna Cliffs Marriott Resort & Spa.

The UNITE Here strike turns on the usual issues like a living wage (hotel staff are paid so little they have to rent rooming-house beds by the shift, paying for the right to sleep in a room for a few hours at a time, without any permanent accommodation). They’re also seeking health-care and pensions, so they can be healthy at work and retire after long service. Finally, they’re seeking their employer’s support for LA’s Responsible Hotels Ordinance, which would levy a tax on hotel rooms to help pay for hotel workers’ housing costs (a hotel worker who can’t afford a bed is the equivalent of a fast food worker who has to apply for food stamps):

https://www.unitehere11.org/responsible-hotels-ordinance/

But the Marriott — which is owned by the University of California and managed by Aimbridge Hospitality — has refused to bargain, walking out negotiations.

But the employer didn’t walk out over wages, benefits or support for a housing subsidy. They walked out when workers demanded that the scabs that the company was trying to hire to break the strike be given full time, union jobs.

These aren’t just any scabs, either. They’re predominantly Black workers who rely on the $700m Instawork app for gigs. These workers are being dispatched to cross the picket line without any warning that they’re being contracted as strikebreakers. When workers refuse the cross the picket and join the strike, Instawork cancels all their shifts and permanently blocks them from new jobs.

This is a new, technologically supercharged form of illegal strikebreaking. It’s one thing for a single boss to punish a worker who refuses to scab, but Instawork acts as a plausible-deniability filter for all the major employers in the region. Like the landlord apps that allow landlords to illegally fix rents by coordinating hikes, Instawork lets bosses illegally collude to rig wages by coordinating a blocklist of workers who refuse to scab:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2022/10/company-that-makes-rent-setting-software-for-landlords-sued-for-collusion/?comments=1

The racial dimension is really important here: the Marriott has a longstanding de facto policy of refusing to hire Black workers, and whenever they are confronted with this, they insist that there are no qualified Black workers in the labor pool. But as soon as the predominantly Latino workforce struck, Marriott discovered a vast Black workforce that it could coerce into scabbing, in collusion with Instawork.

Now, all of this isn’t just sleazy, it’s illegal, a violation of Section 7 of the NLRB Act. Historically, that wouldn’t have mattered, because a string of presidents, R and D, have appointed useless do-nothing ghouls to run the NLRB. But the Biden admin, pushed by the party’s left wing, made a string of historic, excellent appointments, including NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, who has set her sights on punishing gig work companies for flouting labor law:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/#bidens-legacy

UNITE HERE 11 has brought a case to the NLRB, charging the Instawork, the UC system, Marriott, and Aimbridge with violating labor law by blackmailing gig workers into crossing the picket line. The union is also asking the NLRB to punish the companies for failing to protect workers from violent retaliation from the wealthy hotel guests who have punched them and screamed epithets at them. The hotel has refused to identify these thug guests so that the workers they assaulted can swear out complaints against them.

Writing about the strike for Jacobin, Alex N Press tells the story of Thomas Bradley, a Black worker who was struck off all Instawork shifts for refusing to cross the picket line and joining it instead:

https://jacobin.com/2023/07/southern-california-hotel-workers-strike-automated-management-unite-here

Bradley’s case is exhibit A in the UNITE HERE 11 case before the NLRB. He has a degree in culinary arts, but racial discrimination in the industry has kept him stuck in gig and temp jobs ever since he graduated, nearly a quarter century ago. Bradley lived out of his car, but that was repossessed while he slept in a hotel room that UNITE HERE 11 fundraised for him, leaving him homeless and bereft of all his worldly possessions.

With UNITE HERE 11’s help, Bradley’s secured a job at the downtown LA Westin Bonaventure Hotel & Suites, a hotel that has bargained with the workers. Bradley is using his newfound secure position to campaign among other Instawork workers to convince them not to cross picket lines. In these group chats, Jacobin saw workers worrying “that joining the strike would jeopardize their standing on the app.”

Today (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

[Image ID: An old photo of strikers before a struck factory, with tear-gas plumes rising above them. The image has been modified to add a Marriott sign to the factory, and the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey' to the sky over the factory. The workers have been colorized to a yellow-green shade and the factory has been colorized to a sepia tone.]

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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i-arch-my-backula · 2 months ago

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Vampire Freak of California: The Lost Boys x reader

I kept this GN and I don't know how I feel about it persay. It's one of the longest things I've written probably ever, and I like the idea. I just don't know about the execution of it on my end. I also dedicate this to @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n who is my favorite vampire freak. I might make this into a series thing, perchance, if I ever feel like getting around to making another chapter for it.

Content includes: Swearing, readers relationship to the boys could be read as platonic or romantic, autism coded reader

Living in Santa Carla is pretty uneventful. Your mother died when you were young and your father wanted nothing to do with you, so you’ve been living with your grandpa since you were a child. Your aunt and cousins just moved in with you and your grandpa, trying to get settled in after your aunt’s divorce. So you’ve been showing them around, taking them places, hanging out. It’s a nice break from doing a bunch of outdoor work this summer, especially now that you’re home from college.

But if you’re being honest, you don’t know too many people here. Sure you have your friends and stuff, but outside of them and your family you’re not too familiar with everyone else in town. But it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more people in the state of California than people in some countries, at least you think.

But something that might be holding you back from getting more friendships, or even a relationship is your interests. When you started to tease your hair and wear all black your grandpa didn’t fully understand it, but seeing other people like that out in town he recognized it as some kind of trend with young people. But even before that, since you were young, you’ve had an obsession with vampires. It started when you watched the 1931 Dracula movie with a friend, and from then on you were hooked. Now your room is basically dedicated to vampires. Countless VHS tapes, books, posters, cassettes, records, collectables, comic books, anything vampire related you liked that you could get your hands on, it was in your room.

Now you know vampires are fake. That’s what makes it fun. Exploring such dark topics in a safe way through fiction. Not to mention how a lot of vampires can be pretty hot. But you know they’re not real, and so does everyone else, even if your grandpa avoids the subject all together most of the time, if you ever bring up how they’re fictional.

Of course not everyone understood. Your aunt Lucy was polite enough about it, your cousin Michael teases you about it a little, and Sam always makes comments. But who cares? It makes you happy. Very happy, in fact you could talk about vampires for hours on end. But that’s usually reserved for your friends, who are pretty similar to you. But as the summer went on, Michael got some friends of his own, so did Sam.

It’s a warm night in June. You’re sitting downstairs in the kitchen talking on the phone with your friend when you hear the front door open, then Michael starts to speak. You look out the kitchen doorway and find him talking to a guy with platinum blonde hair. You shrug it off as Michael talking with a friend of his. You can hear other people talking, but it’s probably just more of his friends.

“But I’ve got this new kind of question about vampires and stuff.” You say, opening the fridge and taking out a soda bottle, popping off the cap and taking a sip of it. “So vampires can’t go out in the sun. But what if they lived in one of those places where the sun doesn’t rise for months at a time? Like one of those arctic places in the world? Theoretically they could go outside all the time during periods like that.” You hold the phone receiver to your ear while walking back to the spot you were sitting at before.

Michael and his friend glance your way before going back to speaking with each other. You shrug it off. People stare at you all the time, it’s no big deal. You’re not even wearing one of your ‘outrageous’ outfits today. ‘I think vampires do need to sleep, like how all living creatures need to sleep. But it could be different for them depending on how long the sun is out.’ Your friend says over the phone. You nod your head and sip your soda again.

“Uh huh. That makes sense. But without the barrier of the sun, I feel like a vampire could safely pull an all nighter or something. Some kind of insomniac vampire.” You joke, both you and your friend chuckling.

‘I’ve gotta go. My parents are taking us to visit our grandparents tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.’ Your friend says.

“Alright, peace out girl scout.” You say before hanging up the phone and sipping on your soda again. You leave the kitchen and pass by Michael who is still talking with his friend on the porch. Then you notice the other three guys hanging around, one of them looks at you. He’s the only one who isn’t a blonde, and he’s also not wearing a shirt. Something about him makes you pause for a moment. He doesn’t look too different from the other people you see around town, especially on the boardwalk.But the way he’s looking at you. It’s making something shift inside your body. “Is all you do talk about vampires?” Sam teases from his spot on the couch. His voice draws you out of that slight hypnotic state. You flip him off and walk up the stairs, making your way into your room.

“People can be super into sports, or cars, or music, but apparently an interest in vampires is too far for some people.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Also I know you took one of my cassettes.” You look down at Sam from your spot on the stairs. “You better give it back before I put all your comics in the garbage disposal.” You joke, earning Sam flipping you off. You laugh and go up into your room, shutting the door behind you.

That night as you slept you had the strangest dream. Being on some kind of beach next to a bonfire. Michael’s friend was there, staring at you like how he was before. You wanted to ask him questions but you couldn’t speak, something was stopping your voice. That’s all you could remember of the dream after you woke up. But some strange part of it that you couldn’t fully describe lingered in the back of your mind.

The next night you’re outside, listening to some music on your walkman and petting one of the barn cats you have. He’s a tuxedo cat you’ve had for a couple years now. You named him Mr. Murphy, after Peter Murphy from Bauhaus. He’s a really nice kitty. Sometimes when you don’t have anyone to talk to, you just talk to him. If he understood English he’d probably be the first cat to have encyclopedic knowledge on vampires. As you’re scratching behind his ears someone taps your shoulders from behind. You jump a little and turn around to see it’s Michael. You pause your music and take off your headphones. “Jesus Michael you scared me.”

“Yeah well I didn’t mean to…Sorry. I’ve just got some friends coming over and I feel like it might be best that you stay inside.” You can’t tell what kind of a tone he’s using right now, but something tells you it’s not very good.

“Michael I’m two years older than you, I can handle being around some teenage boys.”

“They aren’t exactly teenage boys.”

“Really? You’re hanging out with a bunch of grown men?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He says, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. He looks away from you, down at Mr. Murphy before looking back up at you, although you can’t quite meet his gaze, or anyone’s for that matter. “Just be careful with them. They can get kind of rowdy and stuff.”

“What do you mean by being careful?”

“You know what I mean by that.”

“No I don’t. I’m being serious Michael, I don't know what you mean. If these are the same friends you had over last night I doubt that anything bad is going to happen. They seemed more interested in catching a cold from not wearing a shirt outside than bothering me.” Before he can reply, some headlights pull up behind you. Turning around you see his friends from before coming up on motorbikes. You look back at Michael for a moment, huffing a breath from your nose. “You owe me.” You mumble to him before heading back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind you.

He’s got you all worked up now. Everyone is always treating you like you’re stupid. Well you’re not stupid. You’re different, sure. But you’re not stupid. You head into the kitchen and look around, trying to find something to eat, but only one thing comes to mind. What you call your ‘special food’. Something that no matter what, is always reliable and ‘safe’ for you to eat. So you get it ready and move to grab a dish for it when you see someone enter the kitchen. But it’s not Sam, like you’d expect. It’s one of Michael’s friends. Another blonde one. He’s wearing a dirty black blazer, and his hair is teased up into a big style, probably containing a whole can of hairspray in it.

You look at each other for a while, just staring. You have no idea what to say, and maybe he doesn’t either. So you go back to what you were doing, getting a dish for your food.

“You’re not going to say anything?” He asks with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you. Your back is still to him while you start to eat your food. You can feel him watching you. But you don’t have the energy to force eye contact right now.

“I thought you were here for Michael.” You say, grabbing a glass and filling it up with some tap water.

“Yeah well he’s been pretty vague about you when I ask questions. So I thought I should try speaking to you myself.” He says, walking closer to you as you drink your water.

“Why are you asking questions about me?” You ask, looking over at him for a moment, finishing off your food and setting your dishes in the sink.

“Am I not allowed to be curious about someone?” He asks, in what you think is a teasing tone. But you don’t want to laugh and find out he was being serious.

“No I didn’t mean that. I was just wondering why you’re interested in me is all.” You shrug your shoulders and trace shapes with your finger on the counter top.

“I heard you talking about vampires last night. I’m pretty into vampires myself.” He says, watching your finger as it moves across the counter top. “I’m Paul. You’re Y/N right?” He asks. You nod your head.

“Yeah that’s my name.” You say, looking over at the kitchen doorway, hearing Michael talking with his other friends again. “And I’m pretty into vampires. I mean. Don’t even get me started, I'll talk for hours on end about them.”

“How into them are you?” He asks, smiling wider while he raises an eyebrow at you. You start to smile on your own too, even if he doesn’t want to listen to you rant about vampires, he’s about to.

“Well it all started when I first watched the 1931 dracula movie with Bella Lugosi when I was around 13. Which led me down this sort of rabbit hole of vampire media and all this stuff. So I’ve been collecting VHS tapes, books, posters, records, cassettes, comic books, anything vampire related I liked and could get my hands on. So it’s been almost a decade since then and I’m still obsessed with vampires. I mean I wrote this paper on the history of mythology of vampires for an English class back in my junior year of high school.

“I have all these little theories and questions I’ve loved to ask horror movie directors some time with how they interpret these vampire media things. But I think my favorite vampire movie I’ve ever seen is probably ‘Fright Night’ by Tom Holland, the same guy who made the Child's play movie. It’s a really good vampire movie with some interesting interpretations on vampire mythology. We’ve come a long way from the original poem about a vampire.

“There’s a lot of different interpretations of vampire mythology. Some media say that they’re affected by crosses, garlic, holy water, etc. But some say that garlic and crosses don’t do anything. But it’s pretty consistent that you can kill a vampire with a stake to the heart, decapitation, or with sunlight. I think it’s interesting that with all this variation on vampire mythology that almost every interpretation of vampires have them being unable to go out in the sunlight. Oh! But a couple of years ago for my graduation gift and 18th birthday present my grandpa helped me build my own coffin. I keep it in my room and I really love it.

“It’s stained on the outside with this dark brown wood stain and on the inside is some memory foam and red velvet. Like in this song by this band called Bauhaus, they’re a really awesome band. But they made a song called ‘Bella Lugosi’s dead’ which is a really good song, I really like it. But it has a lot of vampire themes to it. I feel like a lot of bands I like have vampire themes to them.” You start to pick at your nails while speaking to Paul. You’re so caught up in talking about vampires that you don’t notice another one of Michael’s friends is standing in the kitchen doorway.

“You have a coffin in your room?” He speaks up. You look over at him. He’s not the brunette from last night. But he’s not the Billy Idol look alike either. He’s dressed just as outrageously as the rest of them, with a jacket that’s more patches than actual jacket at this point. But you just nod your head and look back down at your nails while you pick at them.

“Yeah. People think it’s weird but who cares? I mean, I’d rather be comfortable with death than spend my life chasing after something I’ll never get.” You say with a shrug. Paul and his friend exchange a glance, smiling to themselves.

“Can we see it?” Paul asks, leaning down a bit to try and catch your eye. You look over at him, then at his friend in the doorway. You stand up straighter and lead them out of the kitchen. Michael is out in the yard now, speaking with the guy with the platinum blonde hair again. It seems like he only speaks to that guy when his friends are around. Paul and his friend with the crazy jacket are whispering words to each other behind you as you lead them up the stairs.

“My room is a little cramped with how much stuff I have in here. I know I need to get rid of some of it, but I can’t really bring myself to do that.” You say, walking down the upstairs hallway. You open your bedroom door and lead in the two boys. They start to whistle and make quiet comments when they see just how many vampire related things you have.

“Nice poster.” The one with the jacket says, gesturing towards your ‘Vamp’ poster. You smile and walk over to it, putting your finger on it.

“Oh this one I got from a movie theater. You know how they have those posters for movies that are about to come out or that they’re showing and stuff? Well I asked if they had a poster for Vamp and they gave it to me.” You start to smile widely again, being able to talk about vampires just gets your heart pumping. “It’s a pretty good movie. It’s about these fraternity pledges that need to get some strippers for a party and they unknowingly go to a strip club full of vampires. Grace Jones is in it and she does this dancing scene where she’s wearing body paint done by Keith Haring, who’s this really cool artist.”

You notice Paul standing next to your coffin, a smile on his face as he opens it up.

“You sleep in this thing?” He asks, looking over at you while chuckling.

“Oh no, I don’t sleep in it. I mean sometimes I lay inside of it just for fun. Or I’ve taken pictures of myself inside it, and a friend of mine has a VHS camera, so she took some videos of me inside it, all dressed up like a vampire and stuff.” You say, running your fingers over the red velvet inside the coffin. You push your hand down on the memory foam on the base before you step inside it, crossing your arms over your chest in that cliche vampire way.

“Not all vampires sleep in coffins. Some sleep in caves.” Paul’s friend says, his attention turned to your large collection of cassette and VHS tapes. You chuckle and open your mouth to reply when you notice someone in the doorway. It’s the brunette of Michael’s friend group. You didn’t even hear him come up.

“I know. But I just wanted a coffin for the hell of it.” You say, looking away from him and back over to Paul, who’s still standing next to you. He notices your gaze and he chuckles as he sees his other friend in the doorway.

“How nice of you to join us Dwanye. We’ve got a real vampire enthusiast here with us. Don’t we Marko?” He asks with a chuckle, looking from the brunette to the blonde.

“I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to vampires.” Marko jokes, picking up a VHS tape before putting it back. “What would you do if you found out vampires were real?” He asks, looking back over at you. Now you can feel three pairs of eyes on you, all of them pretty much strangers. You quickly turn to your left and pick up a little Dracula action figure, pretending to want to change its pose.

“Well vampires aren’t real. And unless some huge part of history and murders have been left out of the mainstream for the last however many centuries, and they are real…I don’t know…”

“You wouldn’t be into them if they were real?” Paul asks, walking closer to you. But your eyes stay fixed on your little action figures, moving over to adjust an Elvira one next to the Dracula.

“Well it’s one thing to be into the idea, or the fantasy of something, and another to actually want it to happen to you. I’m pretty sure the people who love to learn about war history don’t wish they were out in the trenches of WW1 or something.” You say with a little chuckle, wiping some dust off the action figure in your hand. “So maybe I don’t know what I’d do if vampires were real, because I know for a fact they aren’t.” As you set down the Elvira action figure Paul reaches his hand out and grabs a book from a spot on your shelf.

But you catch his fingernails. Something happened to his fingernails. It was only for a second. But you saw what they were like. How long they were. How sharp they were. Almost like they were claws. You look over at him and find his hands are normal. He’s just opening the book and flipping through the pages. God your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you need to get your vision checked.

“Nothing is impossible.” Dwayne says, finally speaking up. You look over at him. He moved from his spot in the doorway, now standing next to your bed, looking at a Jim Morrison poster you have above your bed. You just crack a smile at that, not really sure how to respond.

“Come on Michael. We can behave ourselves when we want to.” You hear a voice downstairs say. You walk over to your door as Paul puts the book back on the shelf.

“It’s one thing to get involved with me but you need to leave my family out of this. It’s complicated enough dealing with all of this shit and I don’t need the people I love getting drawn in too.” Michael says. You walk down the hall, closer to the stairs, listening to them go on arguing, almost like a married couple.

“Your family is fine Michael. You don’t have to worry about them.” You get to a place where you’re mostly hidden from Michael and his friend. They’re standing together in the living room. Michael’s friend is turned away from you, so you can’t see his face. But you can see Michael’s. And it makes your skin crawl a bit.

“How do I know that you’re not going to get them involved in all of this stuff too? I swear if you even try to-”

“Your family will be fine Michael.” His friend assures him, cutting him off. “You need to worry about yourself. I think it’s about time you became one of us, fully one of us. We can show you what we are, how to do what we do. But it needs to be soon. I don’t want to wait much longer.” His friend turns his head to the side, giving you a glimpse of his face. But before you could see anymore, the phone in your room starts to ring. You’re pulled out of the little world that conversation created and you walk back into your room, remembering the three strangers you just left inside.

You pick up the receiver and turn your back to the three boys. “Hello?”

‘I’ve been looking into all of these disappearances recently. A majority of them result in finding the bodies dead, murdered in brutal ways, usually the cause of death is blood loss, with bite marks all over the body, especially the neck.’ Your friend says. You chuckle a bit in shock, shaking your head while putting your free hand on your hip.

“Yeah well the police say it’s some kind of animals attacking people. We live in California, remember? There’s a lot of weird critters floating around everywhere.” You say, hearing the boys behind you start to whisper among themselves again. “But now isn’t exactly the best time for me to have this conversation with you.”

‘But I think the police are trying to cover something up. Or at least they’re not willing to accept what we’re dealing with. I mean, these bite marks are described as having only two or four puncture holes, the closest thing to these being some kind of wolf or coyote. Not to mention these people’s cars are found missing doors, and roofs. What kind of a wolf rips off the roof of a car to eat a human?’ You sigh and run your hand over your face.

“I think we should talk about this tomorrow. Alright?” You say. Your friend starts to speak again but you hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

“You expect me to control them like they’re children? Some kind of pet, Michael?” You hear Michael’s friend say, his voice is getting closer along with the footsteps.

“I gotta go.” You hang up the phone quickly and turn around just in time to see Michael’s friend standing in your doorway, with Michael behind him. There’s a beat of silence between the six of you. While it only lasted for a couple seconds, it felt like an eternity of ringing silence deafening your ears.

“Y/N was just showing off their vampire collection. They’re really into them.” Paul says, smiling at the man in the doorway. He looks at you and you look at him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, walking further into your room. He walks up to you and holds out his hand, smiling in a way that makes something inside you shift. “I’m David.”

You take his hand and shake it, feeling the cool leather of his glove on your warm skin.

“I’m Y/N. Your friends were just really interested in my vampire collection.” You explain, ignoring all the pairs of eyes on you. Choosing to focus your attention on your ‘Fright Night’ poster, trying to make it seem somewhat natural. David takes the time to look around your room, smiling to himself as he does so.

“Quite the collection.” He says, walking away from you, and over to your coffin. “I bet you’re a bit of a die hard vampire fan.” You let out a chuckle and glance at Michael, who seems like he’s about to chip a tooth with how clenched his jaw is. “Well it was nice to meet you Y/N But I think it’s time that we go out for the night. Right Michael?” David asks, looking over at him in the doorway. Michael nods his head.

“I’ll get my jacket.” He says, stepping aside to let David leave the room.

“We’ll have to watch a movie together sometime.” Paul says on his way out, giving you a small wave. Marko and Dwayne follow after him and Michael just gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher before walking down the hall after his friends. He might be mad about you hanging out with them. But they’re some of the few people who aren’t tired of your vampire obsession. So who cares what he says? You’ll have to invite them into your room more often.

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

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cant-get-enough-btr-forever · 2 months ago

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Here's a rundown of the Big Time Rush timeline that no one asked for.

Season 1: early April -> late July (2010)

It's snowing in the pilot, but the boys are still in school (and Christmas decor is nowhere to be found).

In real life, April 4 was officially declared "Big Time Rush Day" by the mayor of Duluth (the fictional band's hometown). At first glance, this oddly specific date doesn't seem to have any ties to BTR. But after thinking about it, I realized that this was probably when the boys left Duluth to make it big time.

Griffin gives them three months to produce their demos.

So, "Big Time Demos" is set in early June. Just for good measure, Kendall opens this episode with "I can't believe we've been here for three months!"

In "Big Time Dance", the Palmwoods School throws an "end-of-year" dance party. End of the school year, that is. In 2010, the last day of school was June 24 (in Los Angeles, anyway).

A couple episodes later, "Big Time Fever" shows everyone dying of heat.

Then, in the season finale, the guys return to Duluth. It's no longer snowing. In fact, everybody is dressed lightly. Obviously, it's a warm month for the whole country—like, say, late July.

According to Gustavo, their first tour starts two weeks after the finale.

Conclusion: This season takes place over the course of four months. The pilot is set in early April (one of the snowiest months in Duluth), while the finale is set in late July (one of the hottest months in Los Angeles).

Season 2: late September (2010) -> late November (2011)

Their tour must have started in mid-August, since that's two weeks after late July. According to Katie, it lasted for six weeks.

The first episode opens with Mr. Bitters telling the boys that "it's fall." Six weeks after mid-August is late September, which is when fall begins. The band also performs at Rocktoberfest, which—you guessed it—happens in late September.

"Big Time Pranks" takes place smack in the middle of "Big Time Halloween" and "Big Time Christmas." It's safe to say that this one is set in November. Dang, I really wanted "The Day of Pranks" to be April 1st...

"Big Time Moms" is set in mid-May, of course.

Proms are typically held in late April to early June. Since "Big Time Prom Kings" comes right after "Big Time Moms", it's set in late May.

You know what? After season 1, the air dates seem to align with the fictional settings. So, I'll just assume that the season 2 finale takes place in late November.

Conclusion: Season 2 encapsulates a whole year—both for the characters, and the viewers.

Big Time Movie: mid-March (2012)

I'll guesstimate that the boys had about two months to prepare for their world tour.

Everyone is bundled up in coats, scarves, etc. The average March high in London is around 54°F (12°C).

Oh yeah, the movie was released on March 10.

Conclusion: Mid-March it is. Also, it's hard to believe that the whole film happens within a day.

Season 3: ?? mid-May -> early November (2012) ??

Their world tour apparently spans two months (no one ever says exactly how long it is). This season kicks off with their final concert.

I have a gut feeling that "Big Time Camping" takes place in October, since it's an ideal month for camping in California (mild temps).

I can only assume that the finale is set before December.

Conclusion: Honestly, there's not much to gauge dates from in season 3. Trust me—I re-watched the entirety of it, for this sole purpose. Everything just sort of...happens.

The only episode that hints a date is "Big Time Gold": Kendall says Jo's birthday is on the 21st. Of what, Kendall? The 21st of what?? It seems like they purposely avoid mentioning months. So, I mainly relied on the air dates as evidence.

Season 4: early May -> late July (2013)

In the first episode, Logan says they're about to announce their summer tour. So, clearly, it's almost summer. Once again, I used my guesstimating skills to infer that they announced it a month in advance. Besides, this episode aired in May.

This shot from "Big Time Cameos" (episode 5) proves that it's set in late May/early June:

The finale aired in late July, so it must be set in late July. Also, it just makes sense that the "Tween Choice Awards" would be held in the summer.

Conclusion: Well, this one is short and sweet: It simply seems to take place over two months. However, there is one glaring discrepancy: "Big Time Pranks II" sits in the middle of this season. We've already established that the Day of Pranks is in November. So...what happened here? Did the writers just completely ignore this detail??

.....

Let's summarize!

Within the showverse, Big Time Rush's entire career spans three years. It begins in early April of 2010, and ends in late July of 2013.

Well...it doesn't "end", per se. It just disappears from the fourth wall's view. We have yet to know how long Showverse!BTR really lasted, past the finale.

#This turned out much longer than I'd expected #Guess I'll tag it as an essay #big time rush #btrtv #essay #random stuff

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skarsjoy · 1 month ago

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Happy New Year! So far, these are the three things I am aware of for Alexander Skarsgård (although he always full of surprises).

📗JANUARY 7, 2025 - I haven’t seen any announcements on this, but the publisher (Penguin) and Amazon have Alex doing the narration for an audio book by Hernan Diaz called “In the Distance.” The narration is in English and takes 10 1/2 hours.

Description from his website: A young Swedish immigrant finds himself penniless and alone in California. The boy travels east in search of his brother, moving on foot against the great current of emigrants pushing west. Driven back again and again, he meets naturalists, criminals, religious fanatics, swindlers, Indians, and lawmen, and his exploits turn him into a legend. Díaz defies the conventions of historical fiction and genre, offering a probing look at the stereotypes that populate our past and a portrait of radical foreignness.

✨ ETA, thanks to 4sweet_shug on threads for letting me know that Spotify has a free 5-minute sample of Alex narrating the book!

✨✨ A 2nd sampling of Alex narrating In the Distance can be found here.

📺 JUNE 3, 2025 (?) - MURDERBOT - I have not seen an official announcement on the date, but JustWatch has a June 3rd start on AppleTV. Based on the books by Martha Wells. It was directed and written by Chris and Paul Weitz for the screen.

Description from IMDb: A security android struggles with emotions and free will while balancing dangerous missions and desire for isolation, evading detection of its self-hacking as it finds its place.

Alex plays Murderbot and also stars David Dasmalchian (Late Night With the Devil, Oppenheimer).

🎥 (date unknown) PILLION - No release date yet, but Alex filmed this last summer. It is based on the book “Box Hill” by Adam Mars-Jones and was directed and written for the screen by Harry Lighton.

Description from IMDb: Colin, a timid man, meets Ray, a confident biker gang leader, who initiates him into a submissive relationship, challenging Colin's mundane existence and prompting personal growth through their unconventional dynamic.

Alex plays Ray and Harry Melling plays Colin. It will be released by A24 in the US and Picturehouse Entertainment t in the UK.

✨ If anything else comes up, I will be happy to share the news.

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgård #Murderbot #In the Distance #Pillion

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afictionaladventure16 · 2 years ago

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Ahh im a sucker for angst😭i think pedro would be the most amazing dad but maybe a fic where reader was an unplanned kid and pedro never paid that much attention to her ?? Happy ending if you can i love your writing !

Did You Forget? (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

A/N: I'm a sucker for angst too!!! Hope you enjoy this!

A/A/N: Also, for everyone, Don't quote me on where his sister lives or anything like that, I do not know and do not wish to know for their privacy. It's all fiction, so not everything is gonna be realistic.

Word Count: 5,283

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of self harm, depression, and panic attacks.

“I think I’d rather stay home,” you said to your Tia Javeria, you sat down on your bed in protest. You were being sent to spend the day with your dad while he did a press junket for his newest show The Last of Us, you had gotten out of school early for this. Much to your protest, your tia thought it was a good idea for you to spend some quality time with him since you really only saw him in the summers when you spent your summer vacation in New York with him.

Throughout the school year, you stayed in California with your Tia Javeria. Your dad thought it would be wise for you to have a stable environment, rather than constantly being on the road for filming or switching schools because you would have to stay with Javeria. So, in reality, Javeria had full custody over you, it wasn’t something that was through the court, it was just an agreement between the siblings.

What did this mean? You didn’t see your dad too often. Of course, he stayed in California from time to time, he had his own house here, but even then you never stayed with him.

“Y/N, we’ve already spoken about this,” Javeria said, walking into your room to put some clothes away.

You did speak about it, well, she spoke and you listened. Javeria didn’t like seeing her brother neglect his only daughter and well, although Pedro was a family man, he treated his daughter like she was never there. Javeria could never understand why he did it and if she tried to call him out on it, he denied the fact that he was doing it.

She thought that maybe she was overreacting, but it was hard to ignore the facts.

You let out a deep sigh, your dad played a good father on T.V. but it hurt that he couldn’t actually play your father in real life. “Does it even matter at this point?” You asked.

“Does what even matter?”

“Trying to build something that obviously isn’t there.”

Javeria sighed, “He’s trying.”

You shrugged, “I still think he’s just doing it to give him a good image.” You heard the doorbell ring.

“That’s him,” Javeria stated, “I really need you to try, Y/N.”

You wanted to say something clever or petty, but you kept your mouth shut. You respected your tia too much to say it, but you couldn’t help but feel hopeless. Javeria was the only true parent that you had in your life right now and it was sad for you to admit it.

Following Javeria to the front door, you stood off to the side as you watched your dad greet his sister with a big hug. “There she is!” He exclaimed, “You ready? We can’t be late.”

You gave him a nod, walking up to your tia for her to kiss you on the cheek. You didn’t receive a hug like she did, but you were used to it. You walked past your dad and towards his car that was in the driveway.

“Be easy on her,” Javeria began, “She’s had a rough week.”

Pedro sighed, “You say that every time I pick her up.” She gave her brother a sincere look, “Just stating the facts. I’ll bring her back around six.”

The drive to the press Junket was quiet, your dad played the radio as he drove, not saying a word to you.

Not a ‘How was your day?’

Or a ‘How’s softball going, kiddo?’

Nothing like the dads on those sitcoms.

Nothing like the dad in your dreams. The one that would actually be present in your life.

Maybe it was hard for people to ask how you are or to even make conversation.

Once you arrived at your dads' press junket, you watched your dad be swept away by a makeup artist.

“Y/N!” his manager said walking up to you, “so good to see you! How you’ve been?” Or maybe it wasn’t that hard at all.

“Okay,” you said with a small smile.

“Come on, I’ve got to introduce you to Bella!” You knew who Bella was, well, you knew about them. You’ve never met them before, but you’ve heard stories, mostly from your father, and boy did he speak so highly of them. “Bella!” Scott called out, you watched as Bella walked towards the two of you. “Bella, this is Y/N, Pascal’s daughter!”

“Pascal’s daughter?” Bella questioned, but then a second later realization struck. “Oh, I totally forgot Pedro has a daughter! It’s so nice to meet you!”

You forced a smile on your face, even though deep inside you were breaking. Here was Bella, they were the ones that you felt replaced you. They were the ones that your father spoke so highly about as if it was his own child. Yet, you were so forgettable, why? Because you knew your father didn’t speak so highly about you.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you smiled.

“Are you excited to see the show?” They asked.

“Uh- yeah, I mean, I’m a big fan of the game.”

“Oh yeah, Pedro told me you were,” They said. Someone began calling for Bella, it was time for their interview. They said a quick See you later before walking off. You walked over to the side and saw that your father was already sitting down on a chair next to Bella’s.

Over the next few minutes, you watched as your father spoke among side Bella in an interview. You couldn’t help but feel jealous as your father laughed with Bella the way you wished he did with you.

“Pedro, what made you take this role?”

He laughs, “my nephews actually, they’re huge fans of the show and well, when I told them about the part they told me I had to take it.”

You felt like your memories were lies, you remembered how your dad got the part and that moment was one of the only moments in which you felt like your dad actually cared. Now it was taken from you. All the moments you had left were from you were younger and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold onto them because you felt them slipping away.

One of the crew told everyone to take a break while they set up for the next interview. You felt anger boiling up inside you, you couldn’t handle this any longer. You couldn’t handle watching Bella talk with your dad the way you wish you could or how he treated you the way you wished to be treated. It was all too much.

“We have about fifteen minutes-” Your dad began to say to you, but you quickly pushed past him. “Y/N?” He called out.

You ignored him, making your way towards the hallway, but Bella stepped in front of you, “Hey, Y/N, everything okay?”

“How about you just stop stealing other people’s dads and maybe everything will be okay!” you snapped. You couldn’t believe that you snapped like that, it wasn’t your character and for a moment you felt embarrassed.

“Y/N!” your dad yelled.

But that embarrassment was quickly replaced with anger again. You ignored your dad as you walked into the hallway and out of the building. You heard the door open behind you, “What the hell is wrong with you?!” your dad exclaimed.

“Me? What the hell is wrong with me!?” You yelled. “How about, what the hell is wrong with you!?” Your dad rolled his eyes, “You know what, forget it! I didn’t even want to be here today.”

“Fine,” He snapped, “I told Javeria this was a bad idea anyway!” He pulled out his phone.

“I fucking knew it! I knew you never wanted to spend time with me!” The anger took over and you didn’t try to stop it.

“Well, how could I!? You’re so impossible to deal with!” He yelled.

“Then it’s your fucking lucky day because you won’t have to deal with it much longer! I’m leaving!” you began walking away.

“Don’t expect me to run after you,” He said.

“I don’t!” you heard him sigh and then you heard the sound of the door opening and closing. He wasn’t running after you and you felt okay with that, for the moment. You walked yourself over to the bus stop, your adrenaline still running in your veins. Anger still boiling, you wanted to punch a wall or a tree, but you knew it wasn’t the wisest thing to do.

The bus didn’t take long to arrive and luckily you had enough change in your pocket to make it home. Well, you had enough to go to the stop near your home.

Your mind wandered to what had just happened with your dad, was it even worth calling him dad at this point? Because he didn’t feel like a father.

A father was someone who was there for your children and he wasn’t.

Well, he was, but then he wasn’t. He stopped. It felt like Thanos had snapped his fingers on your earth and your father turned to dust, only, he didn’t turn to dust, he just stopped showing up.

He wasn’t there for your award ceremonies anymore, or any of your games.

The spot next to your tia was now filled with a black silhouette in which you imagined him there. You began to see him more and more on the television and less and less in your own life. Sure, you were happy for him to achieve his dream, but at what cost?

Well, your dad was the cost.

You didn’t have your mother anymore, she died when you were young. The both of you had been involved in a drunk driver accident, which left you without a mother and soon without a father. You were left without a visible scar, but the doctors forgot to check about the invisible damage that could’ve been done.

Did anyone think to check about the invisible damage? No. Now it felt like a dam being held together with tape.

You felt the bus come to a stop, your stop. You got off and walked the rest of the way to Javeria’s house, your house. Once you arrived, you walked in, Javeria was surprised to see you home so soon and she had expected to see her brother follow a second after you, but was met with a door slam.

“Y/N?” she asked as she got up from her spot on the couch, she watched as you tossed your keys into the dish on the coffee table.

“Stop trying,” you said softly, tears in your eyes. “Please.”

“What happened?” you just shook your head, walking up to your room and slamming the door once again. Javeria had a feeling what had happened, maybe she had meddled a little too much this time. She just wanted to see her brother and niece interact the way they used to.

A couple of hours later, Javeria was met with a knock at the door. When she opened it, she saw her brother on the porch looking angry. “Is she here?” Javeria nodded as Pedro walked in, “You wouldn’t believe what your niece did, she snapped at Bella-”

“Your daughter,” she corrected.

“What?”

“You said your niece when you should’ve said your daughter.”

Pedro pinched the bridge of his nose, “She embarrassed me Javeria.”

She shook her head, “For some reason, I don’t blame her for what she did.”

“What?” Pedro asked in a confused manner.

She sighed, “Pedro, don’t you see it?”

“See what?”

“You’re fucking loosing her, dammit! Ever since her mother died, you’ve acted like she doesn’t even exist for fucks sake!” She exclaimed.

Pedro knew what he was doing. Was he doing it purposely? Kind of. Well, at first he wasn’t but then the pain of seeing you and being reminded every single day of what happened, he just couldn’t help it. He didn’t want a reminder of that day, and he didn’t want to hurt you either, but he didn’t stop himself.

“She already doesn’t have a mom and now she feels like she doesn’t even have a dad. Fuck, Pedro, she lives with me. She only sees you a good three months out of the year! Do you even know that she has to go to therapy? And it’s not just because of the accident, but it’s because she feels like you don’t love her.”

“Javeria-”

“No, you need to listen to me because you keep shutting me out when I tell you this. She needs her father back. She needs you, Pedro. I’m trying my best to keep her from falling apart but she’s slipping through my hands.”

Pedro’s heart began to race, and he sat down on the couch, head in his hands, “I didn’t mean to push her away.”

“But you did. You pushed her so far away, she’s in a different state.”

Pedro looked up at his sister with tears in his eyes, “She has to go to therapy because of me? Why didn’t you-”

“I tried telling you.”

Pedro didn’t argue with her on that because she was right. He had shut her out when it came to things about you. He didn’t want to hear it, he felt like knowing anything about you was too much pain because he saw more and more of your mom in you.

“She even started self-harming at one point, we had to hide the knives and anything that she could potentially hurt herself with. She was a mess at one point and I somehow brought her back but I don’t know for how long.” Javeria had a lot to say and she finally was able to get it off her chest. “She needs her dad, Pedro and you’ve been acting like you don’t even want her.”

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as he got up from the couch, “What do I do?”

“Talk to her, Pedro, and actually talk to her.”

Pedro nodded, “alright.” He made his way up the stairs and towards your room. He was about to knock when he heard voices on the other side of the door. He leaned his ear against the door.

“I don’t know, Marciela,” he heard you say. “Sometime’s it feels like I’m just invisible.” He didn’t hear anything for a few seconds. “Maybe you’re right,” he heard you sigh. “Do you ever think about how things would be if you didn’t exist?” you stayed quiet for a moment, “Sometimes I think my dad would be happier if I didn’t exist,” you choked out.

“I fucked up,” Pedro whispered to himself. He stepped away from the door. He couldn’t do it. He needed time to think first. He walked back down the stairs, “I-I…” he began, “I’m gonna pick her up from school tomorrow,” he then stated.

“What happened?”

“I just need to think,” he said as he left the house.

“Sometimes I think my dad would be happier if I didn’t exist,” you choked out.

“Y/N, don’t say that,” Marciela softly said. She had been your best friend since elementary and she has always been the first person you called when you needed someone to just listen.

“It feels like it,” you shrugged. “You should’ve seen the way he was with her, Mar.”

“Things are gonna get better, Y/N. Just remember how he used to be.”

“It just makes me feel worse,” you said. She sighed, you heard someone calling her name on the other end, “Is that your mom?”

“Yeah, I have to go, I’ll see you at school tomorrow okay?”

“Alright.” You ended the call.

You spent the rest of the night in your room, Javeria checked on you multiple times and although you protested, you promised to keep the door open throughout the night. Just for her to feel like you weren’t doing anything that meant hurting yourself.

The next day at school felt like any other day. You met up with Marciela at lunch and filled her in on what had happened after the call. When the lunch bell rang, you and Marciela walked together to your next class, you were lucky to have most classes with her.

“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Pascal,” you heard a voice say from behind you. You rolled your eyes as you turned to face Jenna. Believe it or not, the duo was once a trio. Jenna was you and Marciela’s best friend up until middle school. “I saw your daddy on HBOmax last night.”

“Please don’t call him that,” you cringed.

She rolled her eyes, “It’s funny how he plays the father role so well on T.V. but when it comes to real life,” she chuckles, “doesn’t it make you jealous?”

It did, but you weren’t gonna give her that satisfaction. “I don’t know, does it make you jealous that I at least have a dad?”

“Y/N,” Marciela warned.

“What did you say?” Jenna asked.

“Did I stutter?” you asked Marciela before looking back over at Jenna, “I said does it make you jealous that I at least have a dad because you know, you’re dad left before you were even born.” Jenna glared at you, “Hey, you already know I’d fight back, but I never said I’d fight fair.”

“You’re a little bitch, Y/N. No wonder your dad never wants to be around you.”

“Takes a bitch to know a bitch, it’s no wonder your dad left,” you turned around to walk away, but you didn’t expect Jenna to lunge at you. You fell to the ground, landing on your nose, groaning in pain you turned around to face Jenna. She was quick with her punches catching you off guard. You held up your arms to cover your face, giving you a chance to push her to the ground.

It didn’t take long for the crowd, which was quick to surround the two of you, to draw the attention of the teachers. One of them dragged Jenna away from you as she tried to lunge toward you again.

“Principal's office, now!” the teacher yelled as he pulled Jenna by the arm. “The rest of you get to your classes!”

Another teacher helped you up from the ground, and you lost your balance, “Whoa, easy,” he said as held your arms.

“Holy shit,” Marcela said as she looked at the blood on the floor.

You already knew your nose was broken, just by the throbbing feeling you had. The teacher helped you walk to the nurse's office, and she was able to stabilize your nose until someone could get you to the ER.

You knew that someone meant Javeria. You waited in the nurse's office for the receptionist to call Javeria. Not too long after you heard the door open, footsteps soon followed. You heard someone clear their throat.

“It wasn’t my fault, Javeria,” you began to say, looking up, but it wasn’t Javeria. It was your dad. “Where’s Tia Javeria?”

Pedro felt his heart drop at the sight of your nose and bruised eye. He sighed, opening his mouth to speak, but the door opened and Javeria walked in.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed at the sight of her niece. “We’re suing!”

You and your dad couldn’t help but chuckle at her initial reaction, “We’re not suing.”

She looked over at her brother in disbelief, “Her nose is gonna be all crooked! We’re suing.”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, it is?”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “No, it isn’t.”

Javeria sighed, “Let’s get you to the E.R.”

“But what abou-”

“Already dealt with,” your dad said. You shrugged, following them out of the nurse's office. You noticed that they both came in separate cars, meaning that your dad came here on his own free will. “I got it,” you heard him say. You turned around to see Javeria giving him a look, it was a look only siblings knew. Pedro nodded at her.

“Alright, I’ll see you at home then,” you watched her walk up to her car.

“Come on,” you heard your dad say.

You expected the car ride to the E.R. to be quiet, but you were surprised. “Looks pretty bad,” he began to say.

“She surprised me,” you responded.

He hummed in response, “principal is giving you a few days to rest,” he began, “I thought you and Jenna were friends though.”

“We were friends, but we had a falling out in middle school.”

There was that feeling again. He really didn’t know you anymore. “Really?” You nodded. This whole time he thought everything was the same with you, but little did he realize you had grown up.

He remained quiet for the rest of the ride to the E.R. mostly because he didn’t know what to say. He was still in shock about all the information he had found out in the past twenty-four hours and he didn’t know how to talk to you.

Once at the E.R., he made sure to help you out of the truck. He also made sure that they checked to make sure you didn’t have a concussion. They did some X-Rays and CT Scans, all highly suggested by your dad who was feeling overly anxious and kept asking the nurse to make sure to do every test.

You didn’t know how to feel as you watched your dad suddenly act like… like a dad.

After all the tests, the doctor came in to let you know that you had a small concussion and your nose needed to be realigned. He explained that he would numb your nose before proceeding.

Sitting down on the exam bed, you prepared yourself for the worst. You watched as a nurse came in with a tray, setting it down on the side. You took in a deep breath when you saw the needle. Your dad quickly noticed your behavior, “hey, hey, look at me,” he said gently. You looked at him, tears welling up in your eyes, “close your eyes.” He took a hold of your hand.

You closed your eyes, “Now talk to me about anything,” he said, trying to distract you from what was going on. He nodded at the nurse, telling her to proceed.

“Um, well, I learned Matilda on the guitar the other day,” you began to say, eyes still closed.

“Matilda… isn’t that the Harry Styles song?” He asked as he gently rubbed your hand.

“Yeah, Marecela suggested it, it’s one of her favorite songs.”

“All done,” the nurse said.

You opened your eyes, and you didn’t feel a thing. “I forget how good that technique works,” you said as you watched the nurse walk out of the room.

“Used to do that with you all the time when you were a kid and I took you to the doctor.”

“I remember,” you whispered.

He opened his mouth to speak when the door opened and the doctor walked in. “Alright, let’s see how numb you are,” the doctor said. You weren’t completely numb yet, but the doctor took that time to explain the aftercare for your nose. Once he had done the alignment he placed a splint and some packing. He handed your dad a prescription for antibiotics and sent you on your way.

You got back in your dad's car, “I gotta go somewhere first before we pick up your prescription,” he said as he put his seatbelt on.

“Okay.” Part of you was trying to take in what had just happened, how you were going to live with a broken nose for the next couple of months. Then the other part was just amazed at how your dad was treating you so suddenly. You were surprised he wasn’t yelling at you for what had happened yesterday.

He drove for a while but eventually turned into a parking lot that overlooked the ocean. He put the car in park and turned the car off. You didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what you were doing there. “When your mom died, I felt like my world was crashing down,” he began to say, “but you lived and I felt like maybe everything would be okay.” He sighed, “But you look so much like her, and you act like her, it’s like she copy and pasted.”

You remained quiet, “you were not planned.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said sarcastically

“Let me finish,” he sighed. “Initially, I didn’t want kids, not yet anyway. But I wanted kids with her and so, I grew to the idea of kids and you were my world. Then your mom passed and it felt like you were just a reminder of pain.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand what I was thinking.”

“You want me to feel sorry for you?”

“No, I want you to understand, that I couldn’t look at you without thinking of your mother so, I shut you out. I thought you as the kid that I never wanted-”

“I know you never wanted me, you made it perfectly clear.”

“Mija, please, just listen,” you sighed, “I was just trying to avoid grieving your mother and you were in the line of fire. So, I reverted back to thinking that you were unplanned and it didn’t matter, but it does matter. You were and always have been my whole world and I will never forgive myself for what I did to you.” You looked at your feet the entire time, not daring to look at him for fear that you would end up crying. You didn’t want to cry, not now anyway. “Mija,” he said gently.

“What?” you hissed.

“Can you look at me?” you shook your head, and he gently placed his hand on your chin, careful to not touch any bruises. He gently moved your head so you could look at him, “There she is.”

You moved your head away from his hands, “No, you don’t get to just come back whenever you want and think it’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know!” you yelled, tears welling up in your eyes. “You left me when I needed you the most! You left and I didn’t know if it was because of me or because of Mom, you left without giving me a reason why! Did you forget about me!? Because it felt like I didn’t even exist to you!”

Pedro felt like he didn’t have the right to speak, the hands of guilt crawled their way up his throat. He choked back his tears, he did this.

“I felt like I lost both parents,” you choked. “And then I saw you treat Bella like she was your daughter and I kept thinking, that should be me.” Tears fell down your cheek, “I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why you could treat her like that when I was right there begging for you to even give me a sliver of attention!” You felt like the doors to the car were caving in as you tried to take a deep breath.

“Mija, breathe,” your dad tried to console you.

You couldn’t catch your breath. Your hands shook as you felt your heart thudding in your chest. Not now, you thought. You held your hand against your chest.

Pedro was quick to notice, he opened his door, jumped out of the car, and ran to your side of the car. He opened your door and quickly knelt down beside you, “Mija, breathe with me,” he said as he took a hold of your hand, “Inhala,” he inhaled, holding it for three seconds, “exhala.” He exhaled. “Do it with me.”

You nodded as you inhaled with him and then exhaled. It took a few minutes for your breathing to go back to normal.

“You needed me,” he still had your hands in his, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I can ever make it up to you, but I am going to spend the rest of my life trying if you’ll let me.” It was all you wanted. He gently rolled up your sleeve, placing a soft touch on your scars. “I’m sorry if I am the reason these exist,” you watched as tears flowed down his cheeks.

He then did something you didn’t expect him to do, he placed a gentle kiss on your wrist and it was enough for you. You let out the sob that was dying to be let out, and he pulled you in for an embrace, “I’m sorry, muñeca.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I don’t think I could ever forgive myself, but from here on out, it’s me and you, okay? I’m gonna change things, no more staying with Javeria. I’m sorry I did it in the first place, it was selfish of me. I want you to know that my life wouldn’t be better without you in it. My life would suck without you, Mija. I have just been a shitty dad and I’m sorry.” ”

You wanted to say that it was okay, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay at all, but you were so used to always saying ‘it’s okay,’ that you had to tell yourself that this time it’s fine if you don’t say it. You could not say it and not feel guilty, especially if it’s not your fault.

“What do you say? Are you willing to give your dad a second chance?”

You needed your father and your heart would probably give him a million chances, even if it couldn’t handle it, but for now, you were willing to give him a second chance. You nodded, “Okay.”

He pulled you in again for another embrace, this time he held on for as long as he could. Pedro wanted to make up for all the times you needed an embrace and he wasn’t there.

After a while, Pedro got back into his side of the car. He took you to get your prescription before taking you back to Javerias. You both walked in with smiles on your faces causing Javeria to smile too.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

Pedro placed a small kiss on your temple, “Go grab your things.” You nodded as you ran up the stairs. Pedro waited until you were out of earshot range.

“Well?”

“I don’t know how she forgave me,” he choked back a sob. “I’m such a horrible father,” he sobbed.

“A horrible father wouldn’t have done what you just did,” Javeria stated as she pulled her brother in for an embrace. “Just promise me, you won’t break her heart again, I don’t think she can handle it, Pedro.”

“I won’t,” he let out a deep breath, wiping away his tears. “She’s gonna stay with me tonight, we’ll come back for the rest of things later.”

She smiled, “That’s fine.” She looked at her brother in awe, “I’m proud of you, Pedro.”

He smiled at her, “Thank you.”

You came running down the stairs with a bag of your essentials. “Is that everything?” Javeria asked.

“Yeah, it’s just the main stuff,” you explained. She nodded, and you said a quick goodbye, knowing that you’ll be back the next day.

The car ride to your dad's house was different than the past few car rides. This time he had music playing, “So, we’re still friends with Marcela?” And he asked questions.

“Yes, best friends.”

“What about Monica?”

You shrugged, “We talk a little bit.”

He sighed, “You mentioned playing the guitar, when did you pick that up?”

“Beginning of the year, I was a bit bored,” you smiled genuinely. Your mind still felt weary about the situation but you wanted to trust your heart for once. You ached for the presence of your father in your life and now was finally your chance and you weren’t going to let it go.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @tracysnook @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger

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babyblue711 · 2 years ago

Text

Redemption

Will (Salad Days) x Reader - Part 1/Part 2 Summary: You and Will reconnect after spending some time apart and learn that each of you has gone through their own difficult circumstances in those years. Your friendship develops into something more as you help each other heal from the past. Words: 5.3K

Warnings: NSFW, language, sexual content (18+), mild BDSM (part 2), miscarriage, prison, divorce, infidelity, alcohol, mention of death A/N: This is my first attempt at fan-fiction ever, so please be kind. Thank you to my incredible beta readers for their expertise @megatardisbaby and @arcielee; your enthusiasm kept pushing me to continue writing this. And thank you to @myfandomprompts for encouraging me to start writing in the first place and for your amazing gifs. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you walk through the parking lot and a warm summer breeze blows through your hair. The air shimmers with a sense of unreality, a blur of colors and images that swirl around you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar sight. You turn and realize you are looking at the back of your old black Jeep Wrangler. You know it’s yours because of the custom California license plate MRS M 97. You want to scoff just looking at the plate, a wave of unease floods you, and confusion tugs at the back of your mind. How did it get here? You had left it behind as you had left everything else behind when you broke free from your cheating ex-husband. Your gaze lingers on the car for a moment.

“Well, ‘elo, love,” a soft voice teases in your ear. You whirl to see an old friend standing before you. Your brain feels like quicksand as you try to make sense of his mirage-like presence; you aren’t even sure he is real. You hadn’t seen him in years, but when you look at him, it feels like yesterday. You puzzle at him, bemused by his attire. He’s wearing a grey hoodie under a black bomber jacket, joggers, and his typical black Adidas trainers. Very warm clothes for such a hot summer’s day. He’s tall, lean, and angular just as you remembered.

His lips curve into a cocky smirk, while simultaneously exuding a sort of shy, quiet confidence. The merriment in his eyes slowly fading only to be replaced by something else. He suddenly grows serious, a haunted look in his deep blue eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to go,” he says unexpectedly.

Your eyebrows knit together, not understanding what he means. Go? You think to yourself. Colors swirl, the glare from the sun seems to become blindingly bright but he’s the only thing that remains a sharp, clear image. You start to open your mouth to ask how he got there, when he suddenly steps towards you, crowding into your space. Your sense of reality is almost detached, like you are watching yourself from the sidelines. He looks down at you intensely as if making a decision.

His eyes snap to yours. He presses his lips together as he raises his hands and lightly gives your shoulders a slight shove. Off balance, you fall backwards onto your Jeep. Your back hits the hard surface of the spare tire, bruising your spine but you don’t feel any pain. You huff out a breath and his lips are suddenly on yours, you tangle your hands into this hair as if it's the most natural thing to do, his body presses you firmly against the back of your car. You aren’t sure how things have escalated so quickly but realize you don’t care. You wanted more.

“Oh.…Will,” you sigh into his mouth.

The sound of your alarm suddenly jolts you awake.

You shut it off with a groan and close your eyes again, hoping for more sleep. As your subconscious starts to drift off, you see Will’s face drift through your mind and your eyes snap open again, your heart jumps. Did you really just dream about making out with a childhood friend, let alone someone you hadn’t seen in years? What the hell?

You curse your brain for bringing up the past, mentally shaking your head as the memories flood you. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being back home that had conjured him up in your dreams. The last you had heard of Will was him being sent to prison. You didn’t know what became of him and you doubted you’d ever see him again.

You continue to lay in bed as your heartbeat returns to normal. The image of your old car, a gift from your ex-husband for your birthday one year, floats in your mind and gives you another jolt. You cringe inwardly at the bad memories it brought back of the life you used to have...before everything fell apart.

With a sigh, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and gaze out the window. The view from your childhood bedroom felt so familiar, yet so suffocating. It had been years since you left this place, seeking adventure and a sense of independence. After uni, you spent some time traveling and living abroad. While you were in America, you met, fell in love, and married the perfect man. You loved how easy your relationship was - memories of laying in bed together, giggling over silly TikTok videos or sharing stories of your childhood; he was your best friend, your confidante. He was warm, caring, and compassionate...until he wasn't.

For a few years, you were happy; you both had great jobs, you bought a home and settled in California where his tech company was located. Then, as is the natural progression of any married couple, you tried for a family and quickly learned the hard way that it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Each miscarriage that you suffered began to take its toll on you mentally, emotionally and physically. You became a shell of the person you once were, haunted by the immeasurable grief of your losses.

Your perfect marriage took a nosedive. He tried to be supportive but you just felt as if he blamed you. The final nail in the coffin was when you caught him cheating with his secretary. You knew at that moment that your marriage was broken beyond repair.

Unbearably heartbroken, you left him and everything behind in California. You fled back home to the UK and wished with every fiber of your being that you could just leave your old life behind in America. That the ocean between the two countries would swallow up your pain so that you couldn’t bring it with you.

Your parents were loving and supportive and had welcomed you back home with open arms, but you sunk into a deep depression. Your anxiety was so bad that anything that reminded you of your ex would make your heart race in fear; you couldn’t look at anything related to babies or children without wanting to vomit. Every breath you took felt like it cost you everything just to inflate your lungs, the weight of your grief felt like it was crushing you. You longed to escape the suffocating grip of your emotions but felt trapped, caught between the life you had lost and the uncertainty of the future.

Eventually though, you slowly began to heal. Every day, you put energy into rebuilding the life you had before you met him. You still couldn't recognize who you had become whenever you looked into the mirror, hating the feeling that you were back at square one, that you had made no actual progress with your life. You would forever be scarred by the events of the past, but you finally started putting one foot in front of the other again.

You got a job you mostly enjoy and your day now begins with a sigh as you start to get ready for work. You were traveling into Nottingham to run a small errand for the company you worked for and was glad for a change of scenery beyond the four walls of your dreary office cubicle. You change into a royal blue sundress, attempt to fix your hair and apply a little bit of makeup. You take a deep breath as you look at your reflection in the mirror and promise yourself that today was going to be a better day. After saying a hasty goodbye to your parents, you leave to catch the train into the city.

Finishing up work early, you step out from the office building. For once, the rays of warm sunshine seem to lift your mood. Feeling lighter, you decide you are not ready to return to the monotony of home life just yet. Retracing your steps, as you had done many times in your youth, you venture up the cobbled path of Stoney Street, the bustle and charm of the city making you feel a little more alive. Nostalgia swirls through you in waves as you realize so much had remained the same since you’d been gone, yet it felt like everything had changed.

To your left and right was a colorful array of independent shops that lined the street, their inviting storefronts displaying an assortment of wares. The sunshine seems to brighten everyone’s mood as laughter and animated conversations spill out from cozy pubs and lively cafes, creating an ambiance of warmth and camaraderie. As you walk down the street, you admire the cute coffee shops, stylish boutiques, and quaint bookshops passed along the way.

Although you considered yourself “well-traveled” by now, you can’t help but smile at how charming Nottingham truly was. Centuries-old architecture, with its intricate detailing and timeless beauty, stood side by side with modern storefronts, old and new melting together harmoniously.

You didn’t intend to stop anywhere, but your eye catches sight of an old favourite haunt of yours during your school days. You reach for the door handle of The Lace Market Fish Bar, deciding you were hungry for a snack. The door swings open and you almost run headlong into a familiar face. A bolt of electricity courses through you as you realize your dream has spilled into reality.

“Oh, sorry,” Will mutters absentmindedly as you instinctively retreat a few paces. His gaze sweeps over you and it’s evident he doesn’t immediately recognize you. You hold your breath, unsure if you should say anything.

Suddenly, recognition flickers in his eyes. “Wow, hey, Y/N,” he blinks rapidly, completely caught off guard. “Never expected to see you ‘round here again. Thought you moved away a long time ago.”

“Will!” you exclaim, just as startled and caught off guard as he is. “I…. I did move away, I’m back now,” you try to contain a grimace. Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for a beat as you both try to process seeing each other again after such a long time apart.

A sense of surrealism washes over you, just like in your dream. You can’t help yourself from checking him out. Tall and lean, just as he was in high school, perhaps a little more filled out now. His light brown hair is tousled and shaggy, framing his face. While you always considered him good-looking, age only enhanced his beauty as a grown man now. His face has become a touch more angular, his cheeks slightly hollowed, his jaw defined; his nose, as ever, is sharp and straight. And his lips still curve seductively into the most perfect cupid’s bow that you had to remind yourself not to stare. He swapped his usual black joggers for dark jeans today, with a black t-shirt exposing his toned arms. He looks good, better than you remembered.

“Back?” he asks curiously, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “As in…for good?”

“For the time being,” you say, not wanting to get into the nitty gritty details. “It’s good to see you though,” and you mean it. “How’s your Nan?”

“She’s good, gettin’ on a bit now but she’s doing fine,” his tone is light but his smile is a little stiff. “I gotta bring her this now, actually,” he gestures at the takeaway in his hand. “It’s good seeing you...” he trails off, a little awkward.

“You too, Will,” you reply, unsure where to go from here. He gives you a small smile, then turns and heads up the street.

You venture into the shop and take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the present moment. You had not been expecting to run into anybody you used to know and you felt like your heartbeat was racing more than it should. Or perhaps it was the strange coincidence that you had just dreamed of him last night? You approach the counter and order your food, your thoughts drifting to memories of Will and his friends…

You and Will were a part of the same group of friends in your youth. You took turns hanging out at the chip shop, smoking and chatting at the park, or going to the cinema. You smirk a little to yourself, remembering the crush you had on him throughout most of high school. But, at that age, you were the painfully shy type, both introverted and quiet. You wouldn’t really gain confidence and find your own voice until you went away to university.

But as you were crushing on him, he was crushing on your best friend, Leah. She, on the other hand, was like a shining star, the object of desire for most boys in school; popular, bubbly and sweet, it was easy to see why Will preferred her to you, her quiet wallflower of a friend. You settled for just being his friend, figuring it was better than nothing. The two of you would text almost every day, and hang out together after school sometimes, but it never crossed over into anything other than “friendly”.

In high school, a tragedy struck Will’s life. The loss of his parents in a fatal car accident cast a dark shadow over his soul, forever altering the person he once was. He had a coolness to him now, like he was trying to become untouchable; still cocky and confident, but never loud or boisterous. There were times you would catch him silently brooding when he thought no one was looking, and it was then that you saw the pain behind his eyes. You never wanted to approach him about it, afraid bringing up the topic would only make it worse. Thus, you kept your concerns at bay, choosing silence over potential harm, all the while wishing for a way to ease his burden without risking further damage. When most of your mutual friends were getting ready to leave for school after graduation, essentially leaving him behind, that’s when the trouble worsened.

Lost in your memories, you think back to the last time you saw him….

Flashback

It was the day before you left for uni. Your friend group had one last “going away” party but Will, Tom, and Matt were mysteriously absent. No one could reach them.

He had never not answered your text messages. Concerned, you decided to stop by Will’s house where he lived with his Nan the next morning before you left; one look of his face was enough to know something terrible had happened.

“Let’s take a walk,” you remember him saying. You walked together for a long time in silence, ending up alone with him in a grassy field, away from the town.

“Look, Y/N, I did something terrible,” his lower lip trembled as he stared out into space, his eyes so lost. You had never seen Will cry, not even when his parents died. Alarm bells rung in your head, your heart pounded in your chest at seeing this side of him.

You grabbed his arm, turning him to face you. He wouldn’t meet your gaze, only staring down at his shoes.

“Will, please tell me what has happened. Maybe I can help you!” you begged.

“I don’t want to implicate you,” and your blood chilled with fear. Implicate? Could he be in trouble with the law? You didn’t know what else to do. You hugged him, wrapped your arms around his middle as he sobbed quietly in your ear, his tears terrifying you even further. You felt like crying yourself.

After a moment, he regained his composure, still holding onto you and whispered in your ear “I gotta get back to Nan, but, Y/N, if you hear anything…that something’s happened…just know I never meant for it to go that far.”

He refused to say more. You looked up into his face and saw his haunted, sad eyes pleading into yours. You nod, unsure of what else you could do to help him at this point.

While at uni a few weeks later, you were chatting with your mum one evening when she broke the news to you. Will, Tom, and Matt had been caught stealing from the post office with a stolen firearm. You were shocked. Although they were always a mischievous and slightly troublesome trio, nobody had known that the boys had started breaking into homes and stealing for extra cash. Your heart broke upon hearing the news. The Will you knew was a good person, he had just traveled down a dark path and lost his way. Your mum explained that Will was most likely headed to prison for theft and possession of a firearm...

Your order is ready, snapping you back to reality for a moment. You take your food and approach an empty booth, your mind still on Will. You wondered what had happened to him in the time that you had been apart. He obviously was out of prison now and he looked well cared for. You were glad to hear his Nan was doing ok, since she was all the family he had left now. You hadn’t heard about Matt, Tom, or Leah, as you had lost contact when you went away to school. Memories of the past consume you as you sit in the booth and attempt to enjoy your fish and chips, not nearly as excited about it as you had been before your chance encounter.

Late that night, you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone, waiting for sleep to take you. You see a Facebook notification indicating a new message. You click it and see Will’s face.

[Will]: Hey

You stare at it for a minute until curiosity gets the better of you and you reply back.

[Y/N]: Hey?

You can’t help but be a bit surprised. The Will you used to know never had Facebook and hated all forms of social media. You tap on his profile to stalk him, but, aside from his photo, nothing else jumps out at you. His profile is quite blank.

[Will]: I’m sorry about earlier when we bumped into each other. I was so short with you.

Intrigued, you hadn’t expected an apology. You can see he is still typing so you wait.

[Will]: You know... if you ever wanted to meet up sometime for a drink, I’ll always be about. Catch up for old time’s sake?

You stare at his message. You reason that it would be good for you to get out of the house for once and you were curious to discover what had become of him. You type a reply, and you both agree to meet up after work on Friday.

[Will]: Brilliant. See you then.

[Will]: Oh and just so you know, I created this profile just to find you. I still fuckin’ hate social media. What’s your number? I want to delete this already.

You press your lips together to try to contain a smile, that’s the Will you used to know. Impressed by the effort he went through to find you, you give him your phone number and he returns his. You go to sleep that night, your thoughts on him, again wondering how in the hell you had just dreamt of him and then he materializes like some sort of fucking premonition. For the first time in a while, you fall asleep easily, hoping to see him again in your dreams.

A few days later, you sit across from Will at the pub, enjoying a pint and each other’s company. Everything about him seems familiar yet different at the same time. He’s back in dark jeans again but has swapped his black t-shirt for a white one. Because of the heat, you have opted for a light summer dress, your favorite color, blue, with sandals. As usual, he’s a little quiet at first, but eventually warms up, telling you about his life since you had left. For the first time in a long time, you forget about your own painful past as you focus on him.

He looks down as if ashamed to meet your gaze, his knee bouncing up and down, slightly agitated as he recalls the bad memories. “I did a few years in the pen after Tom, Matt and I were busted for stealin’ from the post,” he said. “But after that, I knew I needed to turn my life around and be better, ‘specially for Nan,” he pauses and takes a deep breath through his nose. “After everything that had happened, I just wanted to make her proud,” he adds quietly.

You nod sympathetically, “I'm sorry you had to go through that. It must have been tough but I’m glad to hear things are better now, Will. And what about your mates? What happened to them?"

He frowns, “Haven’t seen any of ‘em since we were busted. Last I heard, Leah had Matt’s baby but they aren’t together anymore. Tom went off to school. I know nothin’ else. It’s no loss, really.”

He shrugs like he doesn’t care but you know better than to believe his nonchalant attitude. His first defense mechanism was always to pretend to be tough and unbothered. You can see through his facade more easily now than when you were younger, the lingering hurt evident by the way he delivered the words. You remembered how tight-knit their group used to be, facing the world together with a sense of invincibility. It was a shame that his friendships didn’t withstand the trials and test of time.

“Wha’ about you, though? Thought you married some fancy lad and moved across the pond, eh?” Will asks, raising his eyebrows, taking a sip of his beer and you suddenly feel like you’re sitting under a bright light. The memories you’ve tried so hard to bury resurface, anxiety blooming in your chest, attempting to claw its way up your throat.

It must have shown in your face, for Will leans forward and places his hand on yours, looking concerned. “Hey, it’s ok, I’m sorry I asked. Just curious was all. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, “ he says softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand.

You feel your breath hitch a little at the unexpected touch, but something about it calms you slightly, keeping you grounded. You decide to keep your sob story short, just as he did.

“He cheated on me with his secretary so I divorced him. I told him I didn’t want anything from him. He kept everything, including our savings account. I….I just wanted to be done with him. So I came back home to stay with mum and dad for a bit while I get back on my feet,” you ramble quickly as if saying it fast wouldn’t hurt as bad, but you knew you kept the worst part of your pain to yourself. You couldn’t find the strength to tell him about your miscarriages; the pain that you carried with you everywhere, thrumming underneath, was still too deep and too raw to talk about so casually over beers. Even though you hated your ex-husband, your babies would still always be yours.

You take a deep breath through your mouth and raise your eyes to meet Will’s gaze. He’s studying you as if he knows there’s something you’ve left out. His blue eyes seem to burn into yours, like he can sense the storm beneath your surface. Or maybe that was just your paranoia? You blink and look away, fearing that if you maintained eye contact, you’d start crying.

You sit like that for a minute, focusing on your breathing as you try to control your anguish. You hate the way the memories still traumatize you after all this time. You squeeze his fingers, thankful for his calming reassurance. He squeezes yours back and you can feel the tightness in your chest dissipate slowly.

“He didn’t deserve you anyway,” Will says quietly. Then, “Besides, you were obviously in America too long. You’ve barely got an accent anymore. Doubt you even remember how to make a decent cuppa.” He teases you, trying to lighten the mood. “I bet they don’t even have proper tea over there.”

You can’t help but manage a small smile. “No, they really don’t”.

“How did you survive?” he asks in mock horror.

You roll your eyes, enjoying his teasing, “I managed,” you chuckle and swat at his arm; he grins back at you, pleased to see you smile.

“You’ve changed too, you know,” you say after a beat. “You’re not the boy I used to know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” a mischievous grin spreads across his face as he leans back in his chair, assuming a relaxed posture. He intertwines his fingers behind his head, as if inviting you to take a closer look. His confident demeanor seems almost intentional, like he’s on display for you.

So you observe him, a small smile tugging at your lips. You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy just by looking at him. “I just think you’ve grown up, Will. You seem confident, happier now. Like...you’ve finally found yourself and know who you are.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, maintaining his smirk, but there's a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "And you," he counters, his voice laced with his playful banter, "you've finally outgrown Leah's shadow. You were so shy and quiet when we were younger,” he pauses as he studies you a bit, his eyes flicking over you. “I see that you’re not that same girl anymore. Life has dealt you a shitty hand, but it’s nothin’ you can’t overcome.”

You look down, trying not to blush or look too pleased. It had been ages since you felt “seen” by someone. Silence envelopes the conversation, but it’s not uncomfortable.

You debate with yourself for a minute as a memory from the past nags at you and decide you have nothing to lose by asking.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Will? The last time I saw you…” you trail off, looking up at him. You know that he knows exactly what you’re referring to.

His face falls a little as he grows serious again. “What could you have done for me? I would have had to admit to your face what I had done, how stupid I was. I was a coward and afraid. I couldn’t stand to see your disappointment,” he grimaces. “And I didn’t want to bring any trouble upon you either, with you headed to school and all.”

You nod, already expecting an explanation of this sort.

“We’ve really been through some shit, haven’t we?” you remark with a small smile trying to make light of the past. You take a sip of your beer, realizing that by sharing each other’s pain and hardships, you feel less alone.

“No kidding,” he huffs, then “C’mere,” he stands and pulls you to your feet. You are hesitant to stand, unsure of what he was doing. Will steps closer, lifting your arms slightly to indicate that you should wrap them around his neck, bending forward and embracing you into a tight hug, his own arms around your waist.

You aren’t even sure when the last time somebody who wasn’t your mum hugged you like this. You want to scream and cry and crumble into his arms, the pain and memories of the past threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you take a few deep breaths while Will whispers encouraging words into your ear. You aren’t even sure how long the hug lasts, but when you break free, you inexplicably feel a little lighter, as if the weight of your grief was crushing you a little less.

Will was the last person you thought you’d reconnect with when you moved back home. Both of you were essentially rebuilding your lives from scratch. Will, having gone through the turmoil of being in prison, understood the weight of redemption and second chances. And you, having endured the pain and upheaval of divorce and multiple miscarriages, were struggling to pick up the broken pieces while navigating the grief that accompanies such profound loss.

You continue to see each other semi-regularly over the next few weeks. Over time, you start waking up feeling hopeful again. Anytime you see he has texted you, your heart skips a beat. You love hearing the sound of his voice: soft and low, it always brings you a sense of comfort. You fought to admit it for a long time, but you realize deep down that he has given you something to look forward to, and you haven’t felt that in such a long time.

You didn’t necessarily know how to define your relationship as you were very much only looking for friendship. But there was something different about Will. You realize he had already secured a small piece of you, although you didn’t remember giving your heart permission to grant him any space. Your shared past pain of broken circumstances bonded you together and you were more than happy to take things slow while your broken heart mended.

A few weeks after seeing him at the pub, he invites you to go to the cinema with him. He bought the tickets, you bought the drinks and popcorn, enjoying being able to treat him too.

After the movie, as you head out of the theatre, you discover a rainstorm is pouring torrentially. You both hover underneath the awning of the cinema, not wanting to be completely soaked from the storm.

After a few minutes, the rain shows no signs of letting up; Will turns to you and smiles.

“A little bit of rain never hurt anyone, right?” he asks, grinning as he holds out his hand. “I say we make a run for it.”

So you take his hand and, together, you sprint towards the car, becoming completely drenched along the way. You shriek with laughter as you feel like you're getting hit by a waterfall, not just simple rain. Upon finally reaching the car, you wrench the door open and throw yourself inside the dry interior.

Once safely inside the car, you turn and look at each other, giggling at the other’s soaked appearance, exhilarated from your sprint and from the chill of the rain. Will’s t-shirt is completely wet, his hair plastered to his forehead. You are quite certain you probably look just as bad, if not a little worse as you wipe mascara from under your eyes. You shiver a little in the passenger seat and Will places a warm hand on your knee as he starts the car to drive off and you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on your wet shirt, now clinging to your body.

The rain has let up by the time he pulls up to your home. He stops in front of your house and, like a gentleman, walks you to the door.

Turning towards him, you thank him again for the movie and lean up on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek, expressing your gratitude.

You can hear him hold his breath at your closeness, you see the way his eyes watch you as you lower yourself back down. Wordlessly, he grabs both sides of your face in his warm hands, holding you there. You stare up at each other for a beat; you had felt this coming in your gut and you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans down and kisses you, softly, sweetly, his lips molding into yours. You breathe in, inhaling his breath into your lungs, suddenly feeling your head spin, your heart race.

He breaks the kiss after a moment. “I hope that wasn't too bold,” he says quietly, hands still cupping your face.

“Not at all,” you breathe back, sincerely meaning the words.

It was at that moment you knew he had the potential to be more than just your friend.

>>>Part 2

#ewan mitchell #will salad days #salad days #smut #aemond targaryen #tom bennett #fanfic #ewan nation

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 month ago

Text

L.A.fires Mary Elaine LeBey

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 8, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Jan 09, 2025

At least four wildfires tearing across Los Angeles have killed at least five people and forced the evacuation of at least 130,000 more, and have flattened about 42 square miles (109 square kilometers). The fires are being driven by unusually high winds with gusts of up to 98 miles per hour (158 km per hour). Although January is typically part of California’s wet season, conditions are terribly dry. Downtown Los Angeles has received just 0.16 inches (0.4 cm) of rain since May 6, 2024, and the summer was unusually hot.

President Joe Biden is supporting state and local responses to the fire with federal resources. Today, he approved a major disaster declaration, which enables people and towns to access funds immediately in order to jump-start their recovery. The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) will reimburse California for some of the costs of fighting the fires. Five U.S. Forest Service large air tankers and ten federal firefighting helicopters have been deployed to support the local firefighters; ten Navy helicopters with water delivery buckets are joining them. California governor Gavin Newsom has deployed the California National Guard, and the Nevada National Guard is standing by.

Canada, too, has sent water-dropping helicopters and a pair of planes, which are part of a firefighting contract with California that’s been in place for 14 years.

At a fire station in Santa Monica, Biden stood beside Newsom and said: “We’re prepared to do anything and everything for as long as it takes to contain these fires.”

In contrast to federal support for California under Biden, in the midst of the ongoing crisis President-elect Donald Trump blamed California governor Gavin “Newscum and his Los Angeles crew” for the fires, suggesting he had put the needs of fish over the people of California. He posted: “Governor Gavin Newscum refused to sign the water restoration declaration put before him that would have allowed millions of gallons of water, from excess rain and snow melt from the North, to flow daily into many parts of California, including the areas that are currently burning in a virtually apocalyptic way.” "Let this stand as a symbol of the gross incompetence and mismanagement of the Biden/Newsom duo,” Trump posted. “January 20th cannot come fast enough!"

Newsom’s office responded: “There is no such document as the water restoration declaration—that is pure fiction. The Governor is focused on protecting people, not playing politics, and making sure firefighters have all the resources they need.”

Trump is apparently claiming that water that could be used to fight the fires has been diverted to protect the endangered Delta smelt. But the water systems in California are complicated, and importing water from northern California would make no difference for the wildfires.

Los Angeles water doesn’t come from northern California. It comes from an aqueduct east of the Sierra Nevada, from groundwater, and from the Colorado River. Right now, the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California has more water stored than it has ever had before, according to Mark Gold, a board member. “It’s not a matter of having enough water coming from Northern California to put out a fire,” he told Alastair Bland of CalMatters. “It’s about the continued devastating impacts of a changing climate.”

Hydroclimatologist Peter Gleick told Taryn Luna, Liam Dillon, and Alex Wigglesworth of the Los Angeles Times that Trump’s linking of water policy to the raging fires was “blatantly false, irresponsible and politically self-serving.”

The two different responses of the current president and the incoming one reveal dramatically different approaches to the presidency.

Yesterday the Biden administration announced the finalization of a new rule that will remove medical debt from all credit reports. Until now, medical debt has meant that consumers could be denied mortgages, car loans, or small business loans. In addition, Vice President Kamala Harris announced that funds from the American Rescue Plan, passed by Democrats shortly after Biden took office in 2021, have enabled the elimination of more than $1 billion in medical debt for 700,000 Americans. Jurisdictions are on track to eliminate about $15 billion in medical debt for nearly 6 million Americans, the White House said.

“No one should be denied economic opportunity because they got sick or experienced a medical emergency,” Harris said.

While Biden and Harris are working to solve problems for regular Americans, Trump has simply gone on the offensive, attacking Democrats for what he claims is their mismanagement without offering any ideas of his own. “NO WATER IN THE FIRE HYDRANTS, NO MONEY IN FEMA,” he posted. “THIS IS WHAT JOE BIDEN IS LEAVING ME. THANKS JOE!”

By now, we know that Trump goes on offense to hide his own shortcomings. As Judd Legum of Public Notice pointed out, “The largest wildfire in California history—the August Complex Fire, which burned more than 1 million acres—occurred during the Trump administration.”

That pattern of going on offense to hide his own behavior was also on display today when CNN’s Hadas Gold reported that someone inside the Fox News Channel (FNC) gave the Trump team the questions that Trump would be asked at an Iowa town hall last January just before the Iowa caucus. A forthcoming book by Alex Isenstadt of Politico details the close relationship between Trump and people within FNC. It says that after Trump refused to prepare for that town hall, someone inside Fox texted the questions to a senior Trump aide, enabling them to prep him with answers.

After Trump fell apart during his debate with Vice President Harris, he accused her of knowing the questions ahead of time and said the debate was “rigged.”

Trump apparently went on the offensive yesterday when he called Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito just hours before Trump’s lawyers filed an emergency request with the court asking it to stop Manhattan judge Juan Merchan from sentencing Trump Friday in the election interference case in which a jury found him guilty of 34 felonies. Alito told reporters that they talked only about a job opportunity for one of Alito’s law clerks and did not discuss the case, but it is highly unusual for a president or president-elect to talk with a Supreme Court justice when that official has business before the court. CNN’s Kaitlan Collins said such a thing was “almost unheard of.”

As legal analyst Quinta Jurecic observed, though, someone leaked news of this inappropriate contact astonishingly quickly. Such news usually “has taken a while to dribble out,” Jurecic noted, but “this happened THIS MORNING. [S]omebody was smug or pissed off enough to go to the press right away.”

Trump’s accusations that Biden committed a crime more likely to be chalked up to Trump himself—taking bribes from a foreign company—was also in the news today. Alexander Smirnov, the key witness for the House Republicans’ investigation into Biden, was sentenced to six years in prison after pleading guilty to lying to the FBI about the alleged bribery and to tax evasion.

Julia Ainsley and Carol E. Lee of NBC News today reported another way in which Trump is threatening to go on offense: by conducting a very visible raid targeting undocumented immigrants in the Washington, D.C., area as soon as he takes office. While Presidents Barack Obama and Biden have targeted employers who violate labor laws, Trump wants to demonstrate “shock and awe” by raiding workplaces and sweeping up migrants who are in the U.S. without documentation, regardless of their criminal status. His transition team has been talking with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officials about the logistics of such raids.

And then, of course, there are Trump’s frequent references to taking over other countries. Don Jr. traveled to Greenland this week with right-wing activist and media personality Charlie Kirk, ostensibly to record a podcast, but Trump Sr. followed the trip with posts saying “MAKE GREENLAND GREAT AGAIN!” That idea is getting traction among MAGA leaders, even though—or perhaps because—it is a direct affront to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), to which both the U.S. and Denmark belong.

Over the New York Post’s map of the “Donroe Doctrine” in which Canada is labeled “51st state,” Greenland is labeled “our land,” the Gulf of Mexico is labeled “Gulf of America,” and the Panama Canal is labeled “Pana-Maga Canal,” the Republican majority on the House Foreign Affairs Committee posted today: “Our country was built by warriors and explorers. We tamed the West, won two World Wars, and were the first to plant our flag on the moon. President Trump has the biggest dreams for America and it’s un-American to be afraid of big dreams.” Journalist Jamie Dupree screenshotted the tweet before the committee deleted it.

Behind all the offense, though, things that matter deeply to the American people are going largely unnoticed.

MAGA representatives have been introducing a slew of measures to the new Congress, many of which incorporate the plans of Project 2025 into legislation. They call for turning over immigration to the states, privatizing veterans’ healthcare, and repealing the 1993 National Voting Rights Act, the 2010 Affordable Care Act, and the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act.

Bills call for withdrawing the U.S. from the World Health Organization; increasing oil and gas production on federal lands; abolishing the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives (ATF), and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA); allowing states to spend federal education money on private school vouchers; and removing the protection of transgender rights from schools.

Other measures would revoke security clearances for “certain former members of the intelligence community,” introduce a constitutional amendment to cap the Supreme Court at nine justices, and cut off federal funding to the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office (the office that successfully charged Trump with election interference) and the Fulton County (GA) District Attorney’s Office (the office that has charged Trump with criminal conspiracy).

And MAGA Republicans have proposed a bill to impose a national abortion ban, along with a bill urging Congress to support a consortium of antiabortion doctors for women because, the bill says, “health care should emphasize the whole woman, including her physical, mental, and spiritual wellness,” and “health care for women should also address the needs of men, families, and communities.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#L.A.fires #Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #MAGA Republicans #regressive legislation #climate emergency #Corrupt SCOTUS #Alito #FEMA #Canada

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