#do i meet any other part of the job description probably not but i'm just applying for fun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theaspen · 8 months ago

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summary : Jay seems to keep appearing in your alternate nightmares. He acts as your night in shining armor, always helping you in your sleep. But when you try to stop the nightmares altogether he doesn't like it.

Genre : Thriller, angst.

pairing : Jay x you

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood, death and suicide. If you are sensitive to these subjects please don't read!!

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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Authors note: It's honestly SO embarrassing that I'm posting this now LMAOAOAOA.

Uhm. I'm sorry. I hope you guys enjoy and leave some nice comments or feedback or anything tbh. And send me an ask, or comment below to be added to the tag list.

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Are you sure?” My uncle asks sceptically.

“Yes I'm sure.” I tell him firmly.

This is the 10th time he's asked me this question today alone. What's a therapist gonna do? Besides, I'm sick of him pretending to care.

“Uncle, I'm not really sure why you're so insistent on this. Is it because the press is outside? They want to interview you?”

It's a sharp dig at him and I know it. He's never cared about his own brother, never visited.

He scowls at me, “Careful, might I have to remind you that it isn't your father that's taking care of you, putting you in the best room with the best doctors.”

I glare at him as he walks away from the room. Well atleast the pathetic nice act is gone.

Kyungsoo enters my room soon again, throwing a careful glance at my uncle. He was a big shot after all. With his more than successful firm.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah, um I think I'll just go for a walk.” I tell him rather shortly.

“Sure.” He says quietly, probably assuming I had an argument.

But truth be told, I'm avoiding him. I'm getting attached to someone who's just tolerating me for their job. It's not his fault I know but I can't get attached to those who won't stay once I'm up and gone.

My mind goes to Jay for a tiny second. Hm. Maybe I should talk to a therapist. The dreams stopped for two days and usually I would be overjoyed at the idea of not just one but two full nights rest.

But I woke up feeling uneasy, I made a promise to Jay, someone who exists only in my head. But I made a promise nevertheless.

There are so many things I want to ask him, so many.

Why do I have no dreams? Why is it that I only ever have a blackout or nightmares?

Why is he saving me?

I know I shouldn't, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I look down at my fisted hands and open them. There are two sleeping pills, I stole it from a nurse's bag when she wasn't looking.

Sleeping pills and I aren't the best of friends. Sure they help me not have a meltdown from not being able to sleep for almost 20 hours but they also give me the worst types of nightmares. Which right now happens to be something that I need.

“Goodnight.”Kyungsoo tries to smile at me.

I meekly smile back , eager to down the pills and meet the one person who actually wants me to stay.

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The pills go down my throat ten minutes later. The small light creates a shadow of me in front. The shadows shift, turning and twisting and I watch fascinated as they give a performance for me.

I'm not afraid, a part of my brain thinks. What are the shadows going to do? They've been with me forever. Taunting me, trying to manipulate me. I've never given into any of their tricks. I've never trusted them.

But when I'm all alone now, in a tiny closet peeking out from the hole and watching the shadows linger my heart picks up its beat.

They come and they disappear again and again. I look through the tiny peep the closet gives and realise soon as they go behind every nook and creek that they are looking for none other than me.

My hands reach out to clasp my mouth shut. My body folds itself as small as it can possibly go. Will the shadows think to look here too?

I shut my eyes forcefully. My other senses heightened until I could feel everything around me. The musty smell of the closet, my fingernails digging into themselves. My feet numb, paralyzed.

My breathing becomes slower, my arms start to unclench. I think they're gone. I think I can get out now. Escape to a place where they can't catch me.

Before I know it, before I can even pull my hands away from myself. There's a strange hiss that comes inches away from me. A hand grabs my ankle and pulls me hard enough that I don't have time to scream.

My head bangs against the hard wooden doors as I'm being pulled away. The impact is so hard that I can only clutch my head and groan as the hands keep pulling me away, dragging me on the rough wooden floors.

The splinters catch on clothes and skin. My chin is bleeding, but I can't even stop. Can't even catch a hold of myself as I try to catch myself breathlessly.

There's a sharp turn to the right, and that's when I know that the shadows aren't just pulling me along aimlessly , they have a destination in mind.

My eyes scan around desperately trying to catch hold of something to stop.

Just then, a hand- a solid, real and warm hand catches me. A sudden stop to the journey.

I know who it is before I can even look up. I clasp my hands with his. The shadows aren't pleased, they hiss and linger around My ankles.

But when his hand keeps tugging me in, the shadows start to dissolve, materialise into nothing, losing their power.

Jay's hands pull me again, even when the shadows disappear, he doesn't let go and I don't either.

When I gain a little strength into my limbs I finally pull away from the embrace. I look into his eyes, they are wide and scared, maybe even more than mine.

“Thank yo-”

“Why didn't you come?? You made a promise and you leave me all alone here?!” Jay yells angrily.

I pull away completely. I was happy to finally see him again, but seeing his bloodshot face. The look of absolute rage in his eyes makes me stop. Brings the familiar uneasy feeling back into my stomach.

“I'm sorry.” I mumble.

Jay looks at my crestfallen face, and immediately his face softens.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was just scared you left forever.” He says softly, “You're hurt a lot this time. Come here, let's clean you up.”

He rips off a piece of his sleeves and starts dabbing it on my wounds.

His reassuring words don't chase away the moths in my stomach.

“Jay..do you think I should see a therapist?”

Jay frowns at my words, “A therapist? What's that?” He asks curiously.

“Umm. It's someone who helps you with your problems, like stress, anxiety…nightmares.”

Jay stiffens upon that. His hand paused on my chin.

“But why…? I can save you. I save you every time.”

I shake my head,

“I can save you again, you won't even have to get hurt next time. Just trust me. That's all you need to do!”

I take his hands in mine, his eyes are trembling,

“What happens when you can't?”

“..what”

“What happens when one day you can't save me? I can wake up, but what about you? What if something happens to you instead?”

He shakes his head intently, “I don't care, I only exist because of you. If you're gone, then I'm alone again, I have no purpose.”

I stay silent at that, avoiding his eyes.

The world around me seems to shift again, faster than it did before.

“I think I'm waking up now.”

“Yeah.”

“Can't you…can't you appear in my dreams too? Not just nightmares?”

“I don't know.”

I can feel my resolve slipping at the sight of his tired face. He looks my age, but at this moment his face seems to have gone through a millenia worth of sadness.

“I'll come back okay?”

Jay just nodded. His fingers slip away from mine as he watches me disappear again. I never stay for long. He wonders whether it's because I can't or I don't want to.

Jay fidgets with his fingers even after I'm gone.

He thinks long and hard about how he could make me stay. Every time I've left, it's only because he saved me.

What happens when he makes me believe that she can't escape the nightmare anymore?

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Taglist : @sunjaylove @ryejigyu @keikeu

@excusemeimquirky @lollllllliiiiiiiiiiiipop

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 1 year ago

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The Cactus (Killshot, Part 2.)

“Choices have consequences.” - Simon Riley, 2022

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: Simon never liked acting on a whim, but the mysterious flourish doesn't leave his thoughts, so he decides to break his habits. One day, he becomes a witness to Y/N's past catching up with her, which marks the beginning of their friendship.

A/N: I'm actually so insecure about this series, aaaaa. I haven't written anything in a year properly and I'm so afraid people won't like my iteration of Simon. However, there isn't much to base it off because not like we witness their day-to-day life in CoD anyway. Also, I'm going away for the next few days - chapter 3 is like 25 % finished, but I won't be able to work on it, so the next update should be here around Monday, Tuesday next week (Sunday if I'll clutch it). Sorry for the typos x.

Warnings: SIMON AND READER RIZZING EACH OTHER UP WITH ONE-LINERS (they cringe), both of them generally gushing over one another, and mentions of a past abusive relationship.

Word count: 6.1K

Tagging: @poohkie90

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Throughout his life, for as long as he could remember, Simon Riley considered himself to be a person of habit. He preferred a dull, monotonous routine over living his days out carelessly and freely. If he wasn't one of the higher-ranking members of SAS, he'd probably settle for a repetitive job where there would be little to no surprise- he'd likely become an office worker. When talking about routine, of course, Simon didn’t count in his paperwork, deployments, basically all job-related activities or occasional hangouts with his friends, that happened infrequently anyway.

Simon wasn't always like this, no. Back when his old man had all five together, he was what you'd call 'a normal child'. Back then, they were a normal family.

Simon vaguely recalled a train he loved to play with, the warm feeling of safety that his mum's kisses on the forehead brought, the safety when he could play with Tommy, just running around in the park pretending to be a pilot. Naturally, that all went to bloody shit. His old man lost all of his marbles. When Simon finally left home, he promised himself he would take full control of his life. His comfort in routine was the result of his father’s A+ upbringing. It taught him many lessons, some of which kept Simon up at night even as a grown, 6'3 man; moments when he felt like he's unable to protect himself or those surrounding him. Due to his many psychological evaluations, profilings and talks with the military shrink, he knew all the feelings were irrational. He was trying to fight those feelings the best he could. Simon was a fucking ace when it came to his job, he was able of taking people out in sixty various ways, snipe from blocks away, feel someone's presence way before they'd move... And yet, his father, his father's leather belt and his father's exotic pets brought him to his knees years after everything had been said and done. If he were to slip into a comfortable, never-changing routine, he would have under full control, he wouldn’t have to be wary of unexpected pain or punches that bring him to the ground, make him feel small and weak. He wouldn't have to be afraid of his demons that much... Wouldn't have to be afraid of feeling like a little, helpless child.

Now, throughout his adulthood, his day-to-day routine was firmly given - hour after hour, Simon’s brain knew what his body should be doing and it followed the schedule to a dot. For fucks sake, he was the kind of person who went out to buy groceries every two days and even on days he didn’t have to buy anything, Simon walked to the shop for the sake of keeping up with his routine. Due to this part of him, he could be perceived as a bit of a nut job. Almost everyone who'd ever been inside his apartment called him a cleaning freak - while in reality, it was just easy to keep the flat tidy thanks to a firmly given schedule. Simon didn't mind his flat or himself getting messy, otherwise, he would go insane during deployment. He didn't mind getting down and dirty, he didn't mind getting his clothes ripped, he didn't mind getting his body covered in scars if it meant the mission's success. It just meant that every day at 7 p.m., Simon did the dishes and disinfected most of the surfaces inside his house. He couldn't recall a day when he'd have dust in his flat except for when he came home from deployment. The fact that Simon owned little to no decoration inside his flat meant he didn't have to fiddle-faddle with dust catchers. First thing every morning? Putting on his baklava so he wouldn’t punch the mirror while looking at his reflection; followed closely behind with setting a kettle on the stove to get the tea going. Simon also had periodical tasks, as he named them - buying shoes every six months, and wardrobe renewal every three months.

His life was just a big scheme of periodically repeating tasks in which revelled. No surprises, no pain, no belittling - just Simon taking the reigns over his life.

However, something changed after Johnny and Cassie's proposal dinner. He couldn't point his finger at what it was, but his routine was missing something. And it was bugging Simon the fuck off. When Simon let his mind wander about, he caught himself going back to meeting the florist, Y/N as she introduced herself. His mind was considerate enough to let him play the memories again and again; all the alien feelings as they brewed inside his chest, him not being able to vocalize it, him not being able to speak properly when she looked at him. A hint of interest in her eyes as she realized why he accompanied Johnny. The flame of her warmth surrounding each action, word and expression. The tone of her voice, the fact that she was gorgeous... Simon had to see her again. He needed to talk to her again, ask her out if he'd find the courage.

Truth be told, he wasn't a stranger to hookups and attempts at getting into a relationship. Problems came when Simon tried to open up. The problems came after the act had ended. A one-night stand was fun enough until the girl asked if he'd like breakfast or if he'd like to repeat it someday. Simon loved the intimacy something as simple as sex could bring, he enjoyed the passionate emotions and friction of bodies... Until consequences came. Until the 'next morning' hit him right in his gut. Until he woke up next to them, seeing them sleep. Until he quickly put on his clothes and ran off like a scared little boy.

When it came to establishing a relationship, whether emotional or strictly physical, was when problems started to arrive... And never stopped coming. The last time he gave into giving this a try was four years ago. This experience kept him from dating ever since. His longest relationship? Half a fucking year, ended up with him getting deployed. Frankly, Simon started to feel very strongly about the lass he was seeing, he even planned on asking her to move in, he wanted to tell her he loved her. As he came to see her with a flower in his hand, some naked bozo answered the door. Naturally, actions spoke faster than words, so he packed a solid fucking punch. Needless to say, he hadn't seen Erica since. Not that he was sad about it, he was just brokenhearted and upset.

But you... Simon had never felt this strongly about anyone when meeting them for the first time, not even Erica made him as flustered and overtaken with emotion as you did. Trying to meet you, however, brought needed changes to his routine. Consciously pushing against the order set in his life was an enormous, almost unrealistic task. On the other hand, he was doing it for a good reason - if this meant he would be able to see you, he was willing to risk the restlessness that breaking the stereotype brought. On top of this, it was a well-known fact that working on administration outside the office greatly improved one’s overall mood. Or, so Price advised him.

Also, Simon was well aware that using the phrase ‘seeing you’ wasn’t fitting - he’d never gotten as far as making a contact. He started slowly - frequenting the cafe opposing Rosemary’s to scout out the terrain. He even noticed its name, Grind On. That made him chuckle. The man started taking notice of your presence in the shop - the very periodic nature of your shifts didn’t seem to change, which brought some relief and comfort; he’d be able to set a routine around this. Soon, he found himself sitting in the café every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to match your schedule; over time, he’d found himself a dead angle within the café in which none of the other guests could read the paperwork he was going through. The table was placed directly opposite the entrance to Rosemary’s, so Simon could watch as you created hundreds of bouquets over the span of getting used to his new way of living.

Even going out as frequently made him feel a tiny bit better, being around people as often was always alien to Simon, but simply letting life flow around him was making him feel easier. Not everyone was after his throat, not everyone stared at him as if they were about to shit their pants. No. To most people, Simon was just 'that rando they met on the street'. After some time, the baristas remembered his face (in a way) and his order (plain breakfast tea with a muffin, sometimes the soup of the day if he was feeling courageous) and started treating him as a regular, mainly a young bloke named Jason and a middle-aged woman named Anne. No more weird looks at his baklava, no more fear in their eyes. Just pleasantries. They even started asking him about his plans, his day, his mood, his job. Simon rarely gave in to the small talk, but it made him smile. He'd even go as far as to nod at the other regulars before putting his laptop onto the table, and plugging it in. Other times, Simon would bring a book or the newspaper. His eyes were on you the entire time, though. Oftentimes, he felt like an agent on a tailing mission, as if he was observing the suspect from afar, trying to gather intel. He had to reason with himself, telling himself his intention wasn't to pry, let alone stalk you - he just needed time to figure out how to approach you. He hadn’t got anyone to buy flowers for, which complicated the situation a fair share.

On Mondays, he’d take his favourite spot in the café in the early morning, watching you open up the shop. Each time, you were accompanied by Bonnie, who ran after you happily, barking as you teased her with a smile. Simon noticed that Bonnie’s collars switched frequently - sometimes, you’d tie an enormous plushy ribbon around her neck, other times it was a stylish bandana collar, and sometimes you picked the traditional, singular colour collar. Ghost found this habit of yours utterly cute, and soon, he realized he was looking forward to what collar Bonnie would be wearing next time. On Wednesdays, he’d come two hours before your shift was ending, making sure everything would go smoothly. There was never a singular hiccup throughout the month of his observations, he had to admit. On Fridays, he’d usually just drop by around noon to simply… Look at you, afore you from afar. Simon always had a keen eye, it was a requirement when it came to his job, and was a patient observer. He liked the way you always waved at leaving customers or measured the flowers’ length using your eyes only, always cutting off the exact length which needed to be cut.

As Cassie said, you were talking to the flowers a whole lot - each time, when the bouquet was near completion, you’d push your face next to the flower, whispering sweet nothings. As he watched you, oftentimes fiddling with his teaspoon, Simon caught himself daydreaming. What if he was your bouquet? What would you whisper in his ear if you'd get the chance? Would your fingers run across his jawline with matching subtlety, setting his body ablaze? Would it turn you as much as the thought turned him on? Could the two of you perhaps have some fun with the ribbons you use in your bouquets all the time? How would it look like if you’d wove it into your hair and Simon was the one to slowly pull the strands out one by one? How would it look and feel tying your wrists together? As soon as the clothes started disappearing in his imagination, Simon had to snap himself out of the trance. Thanks to this, he bent more than three teaspoons. The baristas usually laughed it off and brought him another one, and thank God they couldn't see how heavily Simon blushed under the mask.

His favourite moments, however, were those in between - the small moments during which he went on a smoke break and managed to listen to some of your music. Yea, it was still fucking tacky, but the tunes were starting to grow on Simon. A few times, he even caught himself pulling his phone out just to let Shazam search for the mysterious tune. There was a regular pattern traceable in your music choices. It was closely tied to the type of order you've got. Each type had its assigned playlist and thanks to that, Simon started to understand the habits and recurring phenomenons in your work. On some days, the oldies blasted through the flower shop as you waltzed through it with Bonnie hot on your heels, laughing while putting the flowers together - those were usually assigned for lovers, for dates and overall happy occasions. On other days, slow ballads and nonsensical love songs played, which usually meant you were working on wedding bouquets or big-event-type bouquets, just like Johnny's proposal bouquet. Simon genuinely hated it when you got a gig for funerals or other ceremonies similar to it - the shop remained silent - Simon noticed you usually didn’t even turn on most of the fairy lights at your disposal. Your mood dropped and the happy antics disappeared as you tied the flowers together, making sure they were honourable enough.

As per usual by that point, this happened on a Friday, and Simon sat at his favourite spot. There was a chai latté in front of him (he started to love the flavour of cinnamon harmonizing with the rest of the blend as well as the drink sending a wave of warmth through his entire body) along with a chocolate muffin. He just got back in and Anne was on his ass… That was sweet of her. As Simon looked up to nod her way, the barista just winked back with a knowing smile. The mood was good and you didn't have a lot of orders per se, but you had enough traffic to still make profits - Simon just back from his smoke break, hearing a hypnotizing love song playing inside the flower shop when a customer opened the door. Before picking the book off the table, he turned his head in your direction, expecting that you'd be walking the gentleman through what the flowers meant, helping to pick out the best combination. Instead, you were giving the customer a deadpan, frozen behind the counter, your expression devoid of any emotion. The man was clearly talking to you, gesturing heatedly and Simon didn’t have to go far to conclude he was most likely yelling his lungs out at you. ... better than her mum, anyway.

The words rang through Simon’s head as you finally took in a breath, yelling right back at the guy with matching intensity, shoving him out of the door. This was all Simon needed to see - he started packing his stuff, giving Anne the total and left a generous tip before he walked outside the shop. While you walked behind back onto the counter, falling onto it while your fists grabbed onto your hair as you gasped for air, the guy stared through the door at you. A moment later, he turned on his heels to leave the place. Simon was faced with a challenge - either he could go and comfort you (which would finally get him the chance to talk to you) or tail the guy, finding out a bit about him. Maybe even to have a chat with him. Against his better judgment, Simon's body moved on its own as soon as the mysterious man started walking towards Soho.

Simon genuinely didn't know for how long he tailed the guy - he watched him get into a double-decker in the centre, leaving while memorizing which route this number took. Simon was thinking about following him and getting on the bus as well, but the image of you being distressed was burdening him. Who even was the guy? Your boyfriend? Were you seeing someone? Honestly, Simon didn't consider this possibility beforehand. God, what if you were seeing someone and he'd come across as a perv and a stalker? Or... Could it be the one troubling you? Could he just be a rude customer? Could he be trying to wreak havoc in your daily life?

Fifteen minutes later, Simon was standing in front of Rosemary’s again. He fought himself for a long time before he entered the shop - as to be expected, you were nowhere to be seen, the tunes were playing silently, tuned down to a mere whisper. Because the door to the employees' facility was cracked open, it didn’t take Bonnie long enough to poke her head out with curiosity - and once more, as soon as her eyes landed on Simon, she was ready on her feet and running right to him. The adoration in her eyes made him chuckle as he mirrored Johnny’s actions; he leaned down to pick her up, scratching the sweet spot behind her ears. This ruckus was enough to lure you out as well.

Simon’s heart nearly broke when he saw your puffy eyes - suddenly, all the energy was gone, there was no warmer to be found and no smiles to be given. “I’m so sorry. I’m on my break and forgot to lock the door. Could you perhaps come in fifteen…” - You started, still drying your eyes with a napkin. When you actually looked at the newcomer, you were visibly caught off guard... Simon hoped it wasn't the bad kind of surprise, but your expression made him sure it wasn't the case. Some of your warmth started to come back as you smiled gently. - “Ghost.” - Was all you whispered. You didn’t need to say much more, because even the endearing tone of your voice made Simon grin sheepishly, his heart doing a backflip in his chest.

“I can come back in fifteen. It’s not a problem.” “Really? I'd appreciate that, you’d be a sweetheart… My day isn’t going too well and I need a bit to pull my shit back together.” - You sighed, rolling your eyes upon going back to the encounter with your ex-boyfriend. He refused to give up, still claiming some fucked up form of ownership over you - the next time he’ll swing by to hit you with his bullshit, you were sure your hand will slip and you’ll slap him… Or worse, kill him or something. You’ve never considered yourself to be a violent person, but Billy was bringing out the worst of you, awakening some dark fucking demons inside you each time he dared to even break... Especially after all he had done. Simon, on the other hand, was enamoured with the nickname - he'd be a fucking sweetheart. Just the nickname alone weakened Simon’s knees, putting a boyish smile on his lips. His brain flashed around three million different scenarios during which you could call him sweetheart too, making his breath hitch a little.

“Mhm.” - Simon hummed as if it was obvious he'd do as you asked, waiting for his voice to regain its footing. Then, he reached out his palm in your direction. - “I’ll take this pretty girl out for a walk if that’s fine with you.” At first, your reaction to the offer wasn't clear - a furrow appeared on your face, looking him up and down with suspicion. All the tension was erased when you snickered, shaking your head. Within the next minute, you were giving Simon Bonnie's leash. Simon didn’t really expect you to comply, but it made him a bit more sure of his footing. You clearly trusted him enough to take care of your dog for fifteen minutes; whatever you thought of him, it had to be positive.

“Look at her. Barely half a year old and she’s already getting all the nice guys to herself. She’ll grow up to be a heartbreaker, mark my words.” - Giving Simon the leash, you walked to the duo to pet Bonnie as well. You’ve pressed a small bag into his palm as well - it was filled to the brim with various dog treats, snacks and small plastic bags for poop.

“Honestly, would you be able to resist these eyes? Just look at the lass.” - The man let slip par his slips, utterly enamoured by your beauty as he kept staring at you. Thankfully, you were too busy kissing the top of Bonnie’s head to notice the way he stared at you. “Hey, Y/N?” “Hm?” “Is there anything I can do for you? Would you wanna… Talk about it, perhaps? It could help you take your mind off things.” - Simon wondered, the question slipping past his lips on its own. You were paying him full attention now, locking your gaze with his. It almost looked like you were internally debating over whether to tell Simon what happened or not, but then you shook your head with one of the sweetest smiles anyone had ever given to him. - “It’s just petty personal bullshit, nothing I can’t deal with on my own. Anyway… You two should go now, you’re disturbing an artist at work.”

There she was - the girl Simon daydreamed about for the last couple of weeks. Even though you didn’t confide in him, his offer clearly made you feel easier. The light was slowly coming back to your eyes, your smile was melting away the ice surrounding his chest, and your warmth was making Simon feel better about himself. You talked to him precisely like you did to Johnny - as if you were the oldest of friends bumping into each other, just chatting about.

“On our merry way, ma’am.” - Simon saluted just to make you laugh. After, he put Bonnie on the ground, making sure the leash is locked onto her collar properly. As he heard you chuckle while he closed the door, he smiled to himself too. - “See you in a bit, you two! Give him hell, Bon Bon!”

As Simon promised, he took Bonnie for a walk around the block of various shops, and Asian restaurants mixed into residential buildings. Because of Bonnie and her curious, friendly nature, Simon was suddenly the target of attention - a 6'3 man with a mask on his face walking around with a 6-month-old puppy of an Austrian shepherd with an enormous lime green ribbon around its neck sure made a lot of head turn around. Even though the duo walked pretty slowly, they still had some time to stop by Grind On, picking up chai latté and baked goods for. When Anne noticed Bonnie resting in Simon's arms, sniffing his baklava happily, she gasped as if he unravelled a secret.

“So that’s how it is! This makes a whole lot of sense.” - Anne murmured with a sheepish smile while working on the order - two chai lattés and a whole selection of baked goods; he knew you'd die for Grind On's croissants, but that couldn't be all you liked, right? Simon's eyebrows raised upon Anne's excitement, waiting for her to explain the mental gymnastics behind whatever she concluded. - “That’s why you’re here so often! That’s just adorable!” “What is?” - Simon deadpanned. “You’re coming here regularly often because you like to watch your girlfriend at work, what a lucky gal. Honestly, Y/N is one of the sweetest people working on the same block as us and she deserves to have a gentleman in her life, she’s got enough letdowns already. Don’t you think you can deceive me, darling, I know this sweet little girl all too well, right, Bonnie?” - Anne explained, gushing over how adorable Bonnie was. Her words caught Simon off guard. He, indeed, loved watching you work. And Anne calling you his girlfriend sounded so heavenly, but…

“She, ugh… Y/N isn’t my… She’s a friend of my friend. I just like this café, s’all.” - Simon uttered against his will, having Anne looking at him with a slight furrow. Her expression slowly grew gentler and gentler, turning into a motherly smile at the end as if she knew something Simon didn’t. It was precisely all the words Simon didn’t say out loud that told Anne everything she needed to know.

"I see. I hope you'll get the courage to tell her soon, then. It's like watching the beginning of a romance movie." - The woman whispered wickedly and winked at the duo. Simon nodded without a word, watching Anne put some extra goods into the paper bag. You deserved a gentleman. You've had enough letdowns in your life. What if Simon was a letdown? What if he wouldn't be what you deserved - what if you wouldn't accept his careful advances in the first place? He's been so into you that he hadn't stopped to think if you could be interested in him... And due to the small number of your interactions, Simon couldn't base his stance on anything. He basically didn't know you, he spent a month gushing about a stranger. He could ask Cassie about you, about what you've been like and what you're looking for... But that would give him away immediately.

As he put Bonnie back onto the ground, he was furrowing, being lost in his thoughts - not for long, though. You've seemingly got your shit together and started working on another order - there was a little boy standing in front of the counter, watching you with his mouth open. "Ghost!" - You exclaimed happily, smiling from ear to ear. Bonnie, as the little she-devil she was, ran to you immediately to totter around your feet. - "Was the walk nice, Bon Bon? I bet it was, yeah? Yeah." - The tone of your voice pitched as you leaned down to greet your dog, letting her lick your chin a few times.

It took just a moment to finish up the flower - the boy paid you 5 pounds for a singular red rose, all the decorations being counted in. "The rose wasn't worth only five quid, was it?" - Simon wondered. "Come on, be a romantic. He was about to ask his crush out, what monster would I be to stand in the way of young love?" "Right. You'll rather go broke." "Exactly, that's the spirit." - You bounced back immediately, pointing at the enormous paper bag in his palm. Without hesitation, Simon gave it to you to let you peek inside. As soon as you noticed all the goods, your expression froze a bit. That had to be worth at least fifty to sixty quid. - "What's that for?" "I asked Anne for three croissants, but as soon as she spotted Bon, she filled it to the brim." "Are you a regular in Grind On?" - You wondered. "Started frequenting it after tasting the chai latté you recommended. Couldn't shake it out of my head, I hadn't tasted anything like that before. Also, Soho is really nice at this time of year."

For a bit, neither of you said a word. Your eyes locked onto one another, your breath hitched and got irregular. Simon noticed that you shivered, pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. Only if he'd know how flustered you were - your entire face was flushed, you had to battle the corner of your lips just so you wouldn't smile like a freaking idiot. You couldn't get him out of your head. The mysterious Ghost guy accompanying Cassie's fiancé on the day of their proposal, you couldn't forget how much he didn't belong in the flower shop. The first moment he walked in you knew that he wasn't feeling too good about the place, so you didn't want to intrude by prying information out of him. The warm, intense gaze of his eyes made you smile each time you recalled it. Usually, you'd stop anything you've been doing so you could giggle and fluster; at that point, you had to remind yourself that you were a grown, independent woman - not a crushing high-schooler. You hadn't even seen his face, for fuck's sake. On the other hand... The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat each time he spoke. When they left the shop, you watched them disappear in the distance for as long as you could, wondering if you'd ever see him again.

As to be expected, you asked Cassie about him the next time you got together for a coffee. You were desperately trying to lure any sort of information out of her, but she didn't budge. She explained that Ghost was particularly vigilant about sharing pieces of his life, keeping his private life very private. The two had known each other for almost a year and there was a lot she didn't know about him - according to her, Cassie didn't believe that Johnny would know that much more than her. What Cassie did know, however, she didn't share out of sheer respect for their friendship. You respected her decision, not prying any further. All she gave you were vague assumptions - that Ghost was in his late twenties, that he'd been born and raised in the UK and that he'd joined the military fairly young. She also asked if you'd like to get his number, but you didn't accept - if Ghost would like you to have his number, he was the one to give it to you.

And now, Ghost was there, with you. Standing in front of you. Bringing you brewing hot chai latté and a horde of baked goods, just like he did before. You couldn't be sure, but you prayed this was his love language - because any guy before him was able to make you flustered by simply looking your way. Trying to act casual about how you stared at him, you cleared your throat and put the bag away with a gracious smile.

"I hope you'll have some with me, then, this would last me a week at least." "I had my share earlier in the afternoon, thank you, though." "Ah, I see." - You whispered, the disappointment clear in your face. At least you thought it had to be. - "What can I do for you? Anything on your mind? Can I tie you a special flower for a special girl? A girlfriend, perhaps?" - You wondered, trying to act professionally about it while you prayed his response would be that there is no girlfriend.

"That's strange." - The man uttered under his breath, chuckling with disbelief. This took you by surprise, making you chuckle as well. - "That's the second time today someone assumed I'm shopping for a girlfriend." "And... Are you?" "No." - Simon deadpanned matter-of-factly. - "There's no girlfriend to shop for." - He explained, making you giddy up a bit. Bonnie was now running around the two of you, laying on her back so you'd pet her - but you were unable to take your eyes off the man. These eyes, man, they were beautiful.

"What are you looking for, then? Would it be bold to assume you're shopping for a flower?" "I actually am." "You're in the right place then, I can walk you through everything you'd need to know about them. What kind of flower are you looking for?" "I'd hope so, you're a florist." - Simon muttered under his breath. First, it came across as a rude comment - when he flickered his eyes at you, you realized he was trying to joke around. Naturally, you grinned and shook your head. - "The windowsill in my flat looks a bit bland, decided it's time to liven it up. The problem is that I'm not a flower guy."

"I'd assume so, you're not the one who studied to get this position." - you reiterated, shooting right back at Simon. You could see the baklava shift on his face, so you assumed he was smiling. "You know what one flower said to the other when it was asking for a chance?" - You mumbled as you started to figure out what would be appropriate for Ghost - you knew he and Johnny were military, and Cassie confided that they often got deployed. It had to be a flower that could go without regular watering for months, but it would also have to be something that wouldn't mold easily. Simon watched you move closer and closer to succulents, caught off guard by the question.

"Come on, Ghost. It's a good one, I promise, don't make me feel like a dud." - You mumbled impatiently when he was silent for far too long. - "You know what one flower said to the other when it was asking for a chance?" "No idea." "Don't worry, love, I'll grow on ya." - You finished with a wicked grin on your face, waiting for Simon to process the joke - as soon as he realized what you just did., the man let out a chuckle. It came across as if he did his best to suppress it, because this joke was one of the corniest he'd heard - the only person with even worse jokes was MacTavish himself. "You're one of these, huh?" "It's a good joke, come on." "Never said it isn't." - Simon muttered quietly, feeling a big smile breaking out on his face, no matter how much he fought it. A cute, beautiful florist with flower puns and one-liners? With each passing second, you were getting better and better, almost too good to be true.

"There she is." - You mumbled, pulling out a small round cacti. - "It's a cactus usually recommended to beginners, so no need to be worried here. This small lady is a part of Echinopsis, a cacti group native to South America. This one is from Argentina specifically, so it prefers warmer temperatures and a lot of sunlight, perfect for a windowsill." "Why did you go for this one specifically?" "Because it's very well known for its dramatic buds. And you strike me as someone who secretly revels in drama." "That was cold." - Ghost rebutted immediately, amusement clearly audible in his voice. "... Also because it prefers sandy soil and can go without water for a fair share of time. As long as you leave it in sunlight and don't let it freeze to death, it should easily wait until you get back from deployment." - You finished, flustering and looking away. It had to be obvious you memorized every last bit of detail about Ghost, no? There wasn't much you'd know about him, but you remembered a thing here and there.

"It's perfect for me, then." - Simon agreed, carefully taking the cactus from your palm to give it a look. He quite liked it, it was very small and cute. - "Were you joking about the buds?" "No, this cactus' buds are enormous and colourful. Haven't met a person who wouldn't like the look of it." "I'll take it, then. Have you heard flowers are capable of kissing, by the way?" "They're what?" - You snickered back as you prepared the cactus for his new home - you'd packed everything Simon might need as someone new to owning a plant. "Yeah, they have Tulips." - Simon added matter-of-factly. At first, you deadpanned at him before you shook your head in disbelief. "And you were judging me for liking flower puns?" "Hadn't ever said I didn't like flower puns. What's the total?"

Without putting any numbers into the register, you put a fancy paper bag in front of Simon. It had everything he might need - fresh soil, a bigger flower pot, a small scapula to help him re-plant the cactus once it grows bigger. "It's on the house." "Not in a million years. What's the total?" "The total is: it's on the house, Ghost. I don't a single dime." "Y/N, come on." "Take it as my way of paying you back for making sure Grind On won't have any baked goods to sell during their afternoon shift." "That's how it is?" - Ghost snickered with amusement. You've been clearly assuming you're the dispute going your way, so you nodded proudly. "That's how it is, sir." "I'll take it as a prepay for the next delivery, then." - Simon informed you as if you didn't have a say in this, earning a gentle smile from you. The light inside your eyes intensified as you looked at the man with adoration, pushing your palms into the pockets of your jeans just so you wouldn't start playing with your fingers excitedly.

"Will you come to see me again?" "Affirmative, ma'am." - The man breathed out, feeling his heartbeat picking up as he realized you'd been excited about him dropping by. "I better look up some military jokes so we can make fun of your occupation too." "Got one to get you going." "I'm listening." - You alluded, leaning closer to Ghost. "Why are there no insects around the base?" "Why aren't the insects there?" "It's a no-fly zone." - Simon finished and after you scoffed, he jokingly saluted, turning around to leave the shop. That was when you called out his name, so he'd halt and look over to you. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you again." - Ghost was searching for any sign of irony in your expression, for anything that would lead him to believe that you weren't being serious with him. But there were none. The man didn't answer, he simply nodded and lowered his head before walking out - something led you to believe that his cheeks turned bright pink under the baklava, but you'd only seen it for a second, so it could be just a hallucination.

#simon riley cod #simon riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley #here we gooo #we thinking about spicy spicy already #call of duty #call of duty: modern warfare #cod mw #killshot series #no johnny this time sadly #but don't u worry #i plan great things for johnny and the reader #just you wait #they will be the chaotic trio along with cass ofc #bonnie shaping out to be a thicc legend #i do love this dog with my life

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peachymilkandcream · 5 months ago

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Written In Blood|Part 6|Modern Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I don't think anyone was ready for the return of jealous Petra okay? I love the rivalry between her and Evelyn so much it's not my fault it's canon in every universe. XD Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, graphic descriptions of violence, domestic violence, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere behaviour/themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, misogyny, mentions of child abuse, etc.

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Petra and Levi had been texting back and forth constantly, Levi knew from what he had found at her apartment that she was the type to cling onto any attention and he wasn't wrong in the slightest.

Every "free" moment she claimed to have was spent with texting him, asking about his day, what he was doing, what his plans were for that night and things of the like. She was acting like they were in a committed relationship and he had to check in with her like she was his mother or wife. Many a time he had to catch himself from writing an angry reply back telling her to shut the fuck up. But he restrained himself, he needed her after all, and his anger wouldn't help the situation out in the long run.

The only times he agreed to see her were for brief meals, claiming he refused intimacy because he felt so horrible for getting drunk and letting his emotions run wild and how he would have to earn that right back.

He couldn't believe he actually was able to say it without gagging. But she bought every word, and when he looked through her messages she gushed about how sensitive and kind he was. He didn't appreciate the in detail description of their supposed "night of passion" sent to Evelyn, but perhaps she deserved it after betraying him like this. In any case, when he had her he would clear up any confusion, to which she would be quick to forgive. He knew she would.

Another message to call Petra on his break made him roll his eyes, but he phoned anyway, putting on his best mysterious man facade to impress and intrigue her like he always did.

"Levi?"

"Hello there beautiful." Even saying it made him cringe, he hated those cheap and tacky men who bought women with words. But if he was to play the part he really had to play it. "Did you need something besides me?"

Her slight pause gave in indication she was blushing, it always did. "No, well yes, but not exactly- you see, my friend, Evelyn? Remember from court? She's throwing a little get together tonight and I wanted to know if you would like to come, as a date?"

The smile etched into his face was so wide she could probably hear it. "That sounds like a lot of fun, I'll see you tonight."

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Levi made sure to compliment Petra's dress and appearance when escorting her to the little house party. As expected with a woman with a friend group of high society, wealthy was an understatement. The fact that her apartment was bigger than a cracker box in a big downtown city like this proved wealth in and of itself. But it wasn't as big as his, he always had to have the best.

Now Evelyn, was stunning. Jaw dropping. She commanded the room with a sweetness but an elegance that to him, set her above. She was of the same class as him, these other leeches were beneath them both, filth.

"Evelyn! Hi, oh my gosh this is Levi, but I think you know him, who I was telling you about?"

Evelyn's smile is a bit tighter, undoubtedly still sore when coming to grips with the fact her alleged best friend was sleeping with the man who let her stalker go free. But she puts on her fake happy face to him.

"We've met Petra, and I'm so glad that you understand I was just doing my job and I meant nothing against you personally." Levi smiles confidently and meets her gaze, not showing an ounce of discomfort or awkwardness, she would know he had no regrets for what he had done.

Evelyn sighs and her smile becomes a little more genuine. "Of course, it wasn't a personal attack, you're just trying to get paid like everyone else. Let's just keep it in the past, and start fresh. I'm happy you could come Levi."

To his surprise, she offers him a polite hug, just as Petra predicted when she assumed he would feel awkward around Evelyn.

"Oh Evelyn will probably give you a big hug and welcome you into the family because you're with me, she's sweet that way." She'd said.

She was warm, soft, just like he imagined. Those scents of white linen and flowers more pungent but in a good way, not a suffocating way. Her body fit into his perfectly, and her curves melted into him in all the right ways. With whatever bastard who was charming her away from him, he bet they were awkward and didn't fit well. He should save her from that awful relationship.

"So where's your arm candy?" Petra teased, making Evelyn blush ever so faintly.

"Working, unfortunately." It was a lie, Levi knew it, there was trouble in paradise. Hope flickered, a crack, a way in.

"Ah ladies, can I offer to go get you both a drink?" He interjected.

When they both agreed he merged into the crowd, just far enough to be out of sight, but not too much so he could listen.

"What's really going on-" Petra starts, so she picked up on it too, good.

A sigh. "We just had a stupid fight, that's it. He just needs a little space."

"I'm so sorry, what happened?"

"It's the intimacy thing again, I just don't want to do that with someone unless I really know them and trust them."

"I thought he understood that?"

"He did, especially because that meant he was happy I haven't been with anyone yet, but now he's annoyed. He keeps pushing it. And gets hurt when I say no because he thinks it means I don't trust him."

"It'll be okay, you guys are like, made for each other, it'll work out in the end."

Just then Levi makes his reappearance with the drinks. "For you Petra, and for you, the lovely lady who so graciously invited me."

Evelyn smiles just a little and Levi catches it, the look of slight jealousy in Petra's eyes at Evelyn being called lovely instead of her.

"Hey Levi, let's go dance." She tries to pull him but he slips out of her grip, now it was time to go onto the next phase, isolation.

"No thanks, go ahead, I'll stay here and keep Evelyn company since she's hosting all by herself."

"Come on I want you to come with me that's why I invited you-"

"I said no, Petra. Go find someone else." He rolls his eyes at her, and sighs, turning back to Evelyn.

Now she's hurt, jealous, and undoubtedly thinking of what she did wrong.

"She really likes you Levi, if you guys are going to get together make sure you spend lots of time together." Evelyn seemed slightly uncomfortable by the interaction.

"Don't worry about it, I have no plans of getting together with her anymore."

"Oh really? That's too bad- She said you guys were like an item, you should tell her so she doesn't think differently."

"Oh I have, but she acts like I never said it, don't worry, I'll sit her down and make sure she understands well soon enough."

"Well I'd hate to see her get hurt-"

"Enough about Petra, let's talk about you." He takes her by the small of her waist and leads her to a slightly more secluded area, but in perfect view of Petra seething by the kitchen, mixing herself another drink.

"Tell me all about you, I feel like the recent case drama started us out wrong, and I'd like to fix that by getting to know you better." Levi turns back to Evelyn and smiles, stretching out towards her on the couch, one arm behind her shoulders. "Listen, I'm easy to talk to, you can trust me."

Thankfully for him, she can't read body language like he can. So she doesn't notice when he says she can trust him, his head really shakes no.

#attack on titan #break me slowly #shingeki no kyojin #levi x oc #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #levi smut #captain levi #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi angst #written in blood

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keirou-kun · 11 months ago

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So because I have zero self control and no one told me not to, I'm gonna scream about my favorite story from the original 1960s Teen Titans comics. This is Issue 14, the story entitled 'Requiem for a Titan!', and it is my go-to example for how Dick Grayson has just always been Like That™. A lot of the stories from this era are a little cheesy for my taste. Not bad! Just clearly products of their time. This one, though, with a little updating of the language, could have been written in a more modern series and I adore it. This got long, so I'm just gonna hide it under a cut.

So! Let's begin with the set-up! This story starts in medias res, with our bad guy meeting Robin in a creepy-ass graveyard and no information on how or why they're even there. Our bad guy, by the way, is called the Gargoyle, for obvious reasons.

that is, indeed, a fucking gargoyle.

The open grave is Robin's, of course, and Gargoyle has Robin throw in his cape, his tunic [revealing that beneath the tunic Dick Grayson is wearing what looks like a freakin' onesie with scale armor on the lower half, good lord XD] and - after some serious hesitation on Dick's part, bc secret identity oh no! - his mask. During this hesitation, we also find out that somehow Gargoyle has not only captured but somehow turned the other three Titans [Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Aqualad] over to his side, because they get used as a threat to force Dick's hand: do it, or fight your friends, basically.

not my secret identity...! fine, you win, Gargoyle.

So he does it and then has to focus on…something, we don't know what, but whatever it is makes him look hideous for a hot second before Gargoyle beams him off to a place called Limbo, where the Gargoyle rules supreme, oh no!

nice Two-Face imitation there, Dick.

Now we flash back to see just how the fuck Robin ended up in this predicament to begin with. So, in this run, there's various ways for people to get in touch with the Teen Titans directly, and one of them is apparently via a thing called Titan Hook-Up, where anyone can demand a five minute spot on TV if they have a message for the Titans. Apparently the Titans themselves pay for it, but since they're all literal teenagers who probably don't have part-time jobs due to, y'know, being junior superheroes, I gotta wonder who's actually footing the bill.

it's probably Bruce, let's be real here.

So the Gargoyle goes on, gets his time, and immediately claims to be an ex-con the Titans not only unjustly accused but deliberately withheld evidence of innocence of just to ensure they'd put him away. Not all of them, though! Only one of them did this dastardly deed, because only one of them actively knew. The Gargoyle threatens revenge on all four if the guilty party doesn't fess up. Of course, none of the Titans have any idea who this guy is or what the hell he's talking about, especially since he doesn't match the description of any of the bad guys they've caught so far, but, uh-oh…trouble in paradise; Wally, Garth, and Donna all immediately jump to Robin as the potentially guilty party!

gee thanks guys

An unspecified while later, the team gets called out to go deal with a potential riot at a theatre over a concert that got canceled. That bit of suspicion has been growing in the minds of Robin's teammates, though Robin himself apparently has no concerns of his own on that score.

thanks for that vote of confidence guys.

Unfortunately for the team, it turns out the theatre is empty and the whole thing was a ruse; they've been lured straight into a trap by the Gargoyle, oh no! Robin, naturally, starts doing what he's always done, taking the lead and trying to get the team to jump into action to deal with their enemy. Unfortunately for him, his teammates' suspicion paired with the Gargoyle reminding them that only one of them supposedly screwed him over means that…well…

nice to know you care, team.

At which point the Gargoyle uses his magic ring - just go with it - and a beam of energy transports everyone but Robin to a place called Limbo, a plane ruled by none other than the Gargoyle. He'd wanted to trap all four of them in Limbo, but it seems that our Boy Wonder hadn't harbored any doubts or suspicions about his team at all! Typical Dick Grayson tbh.

that's our boy tbh

Robin, intent on trying to defeat the Gargoyle on his own and get his friends back, immediately goes after the guy, only to find himself suddenly attacked by each of his former teammates in turn; turns out, anyone in Limbo hates everyone in the real world. Even worse, they're all somehow giant-sized. Kid Flash literally flicks Robin across the theatre, Wonder Girl uses the power of her bracelets to throw him into one of the balconies, Aqualad chucks him right back at the stage where Wally's waiting to turn this into a game of catch. Things are not going well for the Boy Wonder, especially since in amongst all this is the Gargoyle egging them on.

Ultimately Robin manages to break his momentum by grabbing a cable, but a poorly-timed sandbag knocks him out, leaving him helpless. Meanwhile the cable he grabbed turns out to be a high voltage cable which starts a fire, driving the Gargoyle away before he can kill Robin himself and leaving Dick unconscious as the fire spreads through the theatre.

that can't be good.

Fortunately the fire trucks are already responding and Robin, of course makes it out while everyone else assumes the other three are dead in the fire. I mean, their helicopter even explodes [it was parked on the roof] and there's no sign of anyone but Robin coming out of the blaze, so why would they? And Robin can't tell anyone the truth, because who'd actually believe it? So he gets to walk all the way back to their secret base trying to figure out how he's going to keep on crime-fighting as a solo act.

you couldn't find a better nickname for wally? come on.

Except, guess who's waiting for him at the secret hideout! Gargoyle and the others, oh no! The Gargoyle's going to take his now-evil Titans and start doing crime and evil, and probably use this as their base, which of course means they can't have Robin interfering. Rather than stay and fight, Dick dives through an escape hatch - a convenient laundry chute, actually; unsurprisingly his own design - that the others can't use right now because their phantasmic Limbo-created forms are too big.

whoops.jpg

So now Dick has no team, no base, and no idea what to do. His costume's torn, he's narrowly escaped death by inferno, he's just really not having a good time of it right now. So what's a Boy Wonder to do? Call it quits and go home? Oh hell no.

he's just always been like this, okay.

He takes on a sudden crime wave - spiked by the apparent death of three of the Titans - on his own, because of course he does. And it doesn't really go too well for him, because this boy is probably all of fifteen years old and not exactly used to being a solo act right now but he's too damn stubborn to stop and ask for help. Things come to a breaking point when he's got civilians feeling sorry for him.

dick honey no

And that leads us to that hill with the gravestones and the Gargoyle, so now we're all caught back up. The Gargoyle now has all four Titans in Limbo and, therefore, under his control to begin a crime wave the likes of which the world has never seen…

Or does he?

you sneaky son of a bitch, Grayson.

Turns out this is just part of Dick's own plan to find his teammates. He's exactly where he wants to be, and it doesn't take him long to find the others. Takes him even less time to start fighting them, knocking Aqualad for a loop wth a single kick and throwing Kid Flash at him a second later. Wonder Girl, however, takes a little more finesse than Robin apparently has, considering she not only lands one hit on him, she lands several.

dick is now really the time...?

But this, too, is all part of Dick's plan, since what he needed was for her to get angry enough for Limbo to start resonating with her emotions, thereby bringing the Gargoyle back from the real world so Dick can actually fight the real bad guy. Because Dick has managed to come to Limbo without being twisted or changed by doubt or suspicion or evil, even though that's the only way the ring can send people from the real world to Limbo. So how did he manage this?

He faked it.

HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS. fuckin' "That's what spies do. We lie." energy right here.

Dick fucking Grayson managed to fake out a magic ring by faking evil thoughts…and he did it by focusing on his anger, I guarantee you, considering he himself states he did it by concentrating on how good the Gargoyle would look behind bars. He did this with spite and anger and somehow managed to look more evil than any other human the Gargoyle has ever seen before in the process.

So now Dick takes the fight to the Gargoyle. Or tries, anyway. He might not have his cape or mask, but he does still have his utility belt. Unfortunately, in Limbo, everything is the reverse of the real world, so a smokescreen automatically disperses, magnetic repulsion actually attracts, and nothing's really working. The Gargoyle finally manages to sever the belt entirely, which not only removes Robin's access to his gadgets but also reveals the truth about what he wears under that red tunic.

that's a fucking leotard. he's wearing a onesie. not even short-shorts, it's a onesie. Dick why XD

However! Robin's not out of the fight yet! He manages to grab his belt and use it as an impromptu arm guard, while also pulling out one last gadget that will save the day!

no, tiny tools, my one weakness!

The pliers are used to break the Gargoyle's magic ring - the one that transported everyone to Limbo to begin with - and doing that means that neither the Gargoyle nor Dick - nor the others - can stay in Limbo any longer. Unfortunately, since the Gargoyle is currently stuck to Dick's arm that means that they're both getting sucked into the space between worlds…until the release of energy throws the Gargoyle clear. Too far out of reach for Robin to even try to grab hold of him again. Not that he wants to.

dick pls

Fortunately, our heroes all reappear on that creepy hilltop in the real world, and even more fortunately none of the three who got caught seem to have any memory of what happened or how they got there. Dick gambled on destroying the thing that brought them into Limbo and it paid off. And he was willing to reveal his identity to his teammates to do it.

okay technically she has back in issue 11 but shh we'll just pretend that never happened it's fine >w>

Are some plot elements a little ridiculous or cheesy? Sure, but no more so than some of the shit we see; cheesy and ridiculous is a comic book staple, after all. It's mostly the dialogue being used, but give it a bit of an update in terms of phrasing and slang and possibly nicknames and honestly this story wouldn't be at all out of place in a modern run. I really kinda love it.

#Musings #dick grayson #teen titans #classic comics #robin #boy wonder #dc comics #geekery #bluebird

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hb-writes · 1 year ago

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Ch. 2 - Doesn't Mean It's True

Just because a pretty girl tells you a story doesn't mean it's true.

"It's Charlotte Specter. C-H-A-R-L-O-T-T-E space S-P-E-C-T-E-R," Charlie repeated herself for the third time, her frustration coming out as she let her head fall against the marble counter of the lobby's security desk. "Maybe she listed it as Charlie Specter. Do you have Charlie Specter listed?"

It wasn't the type of mistake that Donna tended to make. She always registered Charlie with her government name, the one listed on all of her identification cards. It was easier that way, but you never know. Even Donna was allowed an off day, and at this point, Charlie was ready to give out her middle name, date of birth, and social security number—whatever it took to gain access to her brother's office.

The man across the desk shook his head even as Charlie passed her school ID across the desk to the bored-looking suit on the other side accompanied by a New York Public Library card and the credit card that held both Charlotte and Harvey's names—for emergencies.

"Come on," Charlie groaned. "You've seen me here a million times before. My brother works at Pearson-Hardman. Harvey Specter. Senior Partner. Big corner office…kind of an important person in the building."

Harvey wouldn't like hearing her using that description to get her way and part of her even cringed as she muttered it, feeling like just as much of an entitled brat as the words made her sound, but she and the security officer had been at it for over ten minutes and a line was forming behind her.

"I'm sorry, miss. Mr. Specter doesn't have any visitors registered for this afternoon," he answered, barely concealing the shrug of his shoulders. "I can't let you up there without an appointment."

Charlotte groaned, pulling her forms of identification back and stashing them in her bag.

"That's probably because he wasn't expecting me to get out of school so early and he's been busy in meetings so he hasn't gotten any of his messages yet. I swear I'm his sister. I come here at least once a week. I have to be in your stupid system."

Charlie's fist slammed down on the counter. She wasn't usually like this. She usually treated the security team well. But this guy…he just stared back at her, eyebrow raised, unimpressed.

"You know what? Why don't you just call Donna, then. She'll verify. Donna Paulsen."

Charlie started to list off Donna's direct line, which she had committed to memory years ago but the man held up a hand to silence her while he dialed the number. Of course he already knew Donna's number. He didn't need her to tell him. Charlie didn't even utter a thank you as he waved her through to the elevators less than a minute later.

Charlie let out a frustrated huff, dropping her bag to the floor when she finally reached her brother's office. Donna glanced up from the computer screen for a moment while she continued typing, assessing the girl in a mere glance.

Charlotte's school blazer was slung carelessly over her shoulder, her white oxford shirt pulled out of the top of her maroon plaid shirt, the sleeves carelessly rolled up to her elbows, purposefully slouchy. The top few buttons were undone, revealing the lace-lined tank top beneath, and she wore sheer black tights with her black booties. Donna smirked. Charlie Specter had changed so significantly from the little girl in pigtails Harvey had introduced her to years ago, now skirting along the edges of her school's dress code as if it was a sport.

"Nice shoes," Donna commented.

"Thanks," Charlie answered, admiring them herself as she pulled her heel up off the ground. "I just got 'em."

Donna hummed. "Dress code changed recently?"

Charlotte shrugged and Donna smiled before sighing. "I know you know better than to irritate our good friends in security, Charlie. They do a very important job down there."

"He was the one irritating me," Charlie answered. "Must be new. And a complete goddamn imbecile."

Donna hummed again. The guy was new, but he was far from an imbecile. Donna liked him, actually. She momentarily directed her attention back to her computer screen, glancing at an incoming email.

Charlie leaned into the desk, pressing the heel of her palm against her cheek as she watched Donna read. "So, I think it's a good thing I got out early. I'm actually not feeling so well. I think I might be a little feverish."

"You poor thing," Donna murmured as she pulled her eyes from the email, her fingers still busy typing a quick response before she turned to look at the girl again. Her gaze tracing the contours of Charlie's face. "You're feeling feverish?"

Donna knew it was bullshit, but she didn't fault Charlie for trying.

"A little," Charlie answered, nodding her head.

Donna frowned at the computer screen once more before turning her chair to face Charlotte completely. "I already spoke to Oliver. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." Charlie loosened a breath, putting her head down for a moment before looking back to Donna. "I was there…but don't you think Harvey has enough to deal with without us adding a silly little thing like this to his schedule? We could just let it go."

"You know what, Charlie?" Donna said, nodding her head, considering it before offering Charlie a smile. "I think you're right."

Charlie sighed. "Donna, I knew you would—" Charlie started, only to be halted in her celebration when Donna stood from her chair and leaned over the desk, causing Charlie to pull back.

"You are absolutely right," Donna continued. "Your brother's schedule is demanding enough right now without adding your careless behavior to it. He's been booked this entire week, and to tell you the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if this puts him right over the edge. Do you think I've been looking forward to telling him about this? His day is already full, Charlotte. Completely full."

Donna looked pointedly at the girl. She had an endlessly growing soft spot for Harvey's sister, but Donna was protective of Harvey's professional life—their shared professional life. When it came down to it, Donna supposed she was probably just protective of Harvey in general. She tried to spare him most inconveniences when she could. And dealing with Charlie when she did things like this was certainly an inconvenience. One that always put Harvey in a funk. A mood. One she'd be dealing with for days, at least.

"I'm sorry," Charlie answered honestly. "Really, I am. And isn't that all the better reason to just keep the message to ourselves then?"

The eye contact she held with Donna was so intent, so pleading that Charlie didn't notice as her brother approached, passing behind her on his way to his office. Without a word to either of them, Harvey tapped Charlie on the shoulder, beckoning for her to follow in his wake.

Charlie shut her eyes for a moment and then turned to watch her brother, unable to get any true sense of his mood from his body language alone. By the time she glanced back at Donna, the woman was back at her computer.

"Better get in there, little chick," she offered without sparing Charlie even a glance.

Charlie sighed, but rushed to pick up her bag and follow after her brother into his office.

"Why are you here and what message are you begging Donna to keep from me?"

The door hadn't even closed all of the way, but Harvey was already leaning against the front of his desk, arms folded across his chest as he watched his sister take a few tentative steps forward.

Fuck. Charlie stopped a few paces away from him, his question left unanswered for a few seconds longer as she checked over her shoulder to see that Donna was still at her desk, seemingly uninterested in their conversation. Charlie knew she was listening in, but she didn't really mind that. She was more concerned about the prospect of Donna joining them.

"Just um…" Charlie turned back to her brother as she hiked her bag up over her shoulder. "I got sent home early. I'm a little…a little sick to my stomach. I just didn't want to bother you with it. I know you're busy."

"You're a little sick to your stomach?" Harvey asked, the words sounding so stupid to Charlie now as she heard them repeated through her brother's doubtful lips. Harvey pushed off the desk to close the distance between them and placed the back of his hand to his sister's forehead. He silently transferred his hand around the back of Charlie's neck, the skin there easily accessible because her long hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and the tie typically wrapped around her collar was nonexistent, stuffed into her bag. As Harvey held his hand to Charlie's skin, he noted that his sister's cheeks were a bit flushed. She felt warm to her brother's touch, but not by much. Certainly not enough to warrant getting sent home. Harvey left his hand resting on the back of Charlie's neck as he studied her face.

"You really don't feel well?" he asked, trying to catch her gaze though she wasn't looking up to him. If anything, she was avoiding him.

Charlie nodded, her eyes held closed for a few moments, her stomach flipping, making her wonder if she'd actually manifested a sudden illness.

Harvey continued studying her for a few breaths, letting the silence stretch on between them. Harvey sighed. "Alright," he said. "You can take a nap here. I'll have Donna order you some soup and maybe Mike can take you to the doctor on his lunch break."

Charlie gave a quick shake of her head. She wasn't eager for Mike to lose his lunch break and she knew Donna wouldn't be happy about ordering soup for her. She also wasn't eager to see a doctor who would diagnose her as nothing more than a liar.

"It's okay. I think I just need some rest. Maybe Ray could just drop me off at home?"

She looked up at him then, Harvey's face a bit unreadable, though his voice was gentle when he asked. "Is that what you want?"

Charlie nodded, something like relief coursing through her, but then Harvey let out something close to an amused snort and Charlie tensed up.

"Yeah," Harvey said, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure that's exactly what you want." He raised his voice a bit to call Donna's name as he glanced at her through the glass, asking for his messages.

There was no response from the secretary. Donna was still seated at her desk outside the office, but Charlie knew she only had a few seconds at best before Donna complied with her brother's wishes in one way or another.

Harvey glanced down at his sister again, his hand still settled on the back of her neck. "Anything you feel inclined to tell me before I listen to those messages?"

Charlie didn't answer that. She shrugged out of her brother's grip and tossed her bag on the couch, a sulk finding its way to her face. She wasn't entirely certain if there had been a right way to play this, a way to handle it where she wouldn't have been found out, but if there had been a way, this clearly hadn't been it.

"Take a seat," Harvey said as he headed toward his own chair. Harvey stared at her as she settled, waiting for her gaze to find his. "Are you going to tell me the truth from the start or should I just go ahead and get Oliver on the phone right now?"

Charlie hesitated for a second too long and Harvey shifted, his hand inching towards the phone, spurring Charlie's tongue and lips to start moving, those parts of her body working to save her even if her brain wasn't quite caught up with or approving of the plan. "Harvey, it's stupid, really. I swear. I actually—"

Harvey chuckled, but pulled his hand back from the phone. "Kid, I'm going to stop you right there."

"But Harv—"

"No, Charlie." Harvey shook his head. Just once. Just enough frustration sowed in the movement that Charlie didn't interrupt him despite the pause in his words, a clear way in, "I want the truth. Not just your version of it. Not a story. The truth."

"Well, it's actually a funny stor—"

"I don't want a story, Charlotte," Harvey interrupted. "I want the truth."

"Same thing," she offered, knowing even as she said it that there was some type of difference between stories and truth, or there could be. Stories could be true. Or they could be embellished a bit. And there was something to be said about the way it was all delivered. She knew that well as Harvey did, so Charlie wasn't surprised when her brother shut her down once again, his tone a bit sharper this time.

"It's not," Harvey snapped. "Just because a pretty girl gives you a story, doesn't mean it's true. Especially when it's someone as clever as you."

It was a backhanded compliment and it caught Charlie up for only a moment as Harvey placed his hand on the phone once again. Charlie pushed herself out of the chair, clapping her hand down on his phone before he could do anything.

Harvey lifted one of his eyebrows and snorted, but leaned back in his chair.

"Alright, then. Go ahead," he said, gesturing toward her with a hand. "Just keep in mind that I'm a lawyer. And I'm your brother. And I know you better than anyone, so don't perjure yourself."

Charlie removed her hand from the phone, taking a small step back to her seat. "I'm not under oath, but I won't," she said as she once again settled herself in the chair, allowing herself a moment to plan. To figure out where to start.

"You can start by not fumbling with your skirt."

Charlie's fingers immediately released her skirt hem. She looked up to find her brother's baiting grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched her. Charlie looked away and forced herself to take a deep breath. She willed herself not to be bothered.

"Confidence is key, kid."

Charlie dragged her eyes to him again and Harvey winked at her. He winked, and something broke loose in the depths of Charlie's already withering sense of control. A hot white flash of anger flowed through her.

"Fine," she nearly shouted, her hands slamming down on the arms of her chair. "You know what? I don't even care if you get mad."

Harvey leaned forward in his chair, no longer feigning his interest in what his sister had to say, but Charlotte didn't continue right away. If she'd continued, he wouldn't have been getting what he wanted anyway. She wouldn't start off with telling him what had happened at school. She'd start off with a few choice words about him goading her. And they were well deserved, maybe. Harvey had been taunting her a bit, but wasting her sudden loose lips on a few well-placed insults wasn't productive, so Harvey let her compose herself just a bit.

The older Charlie got, the more frustrating she found the depth to which her brother knew her, knew people in general. He could read a room. He understood behavior and habits. And he understood her. Harvey was—and always had been—a great predictor of Charlie's moods and behaviors, her intentions. And to be that well understood—to be so thoroughly anticipated at every turn—was at once a great comfort and a great frustration.

Harvey often knew what Charlie would do before she knew she would do it. He could put words to the thoughts being considered in his sister's head before they became completely molded. And in moments like these, that keen awareness of his didn't serve Charlie well.

"Alright, let's hear it then," Harvey finally said, chuckling as his sister's eyes darkened.

Harvey hoped that his sister would learn to control her frustration and act with a little less impulsivity as she approached adulthood. Both traits served him well now. They served him well in moments like these, but Harvey knew she would need to make herself into less of an easy read if Charlie didn't want to be taken advantage of.

"Harvey, my office, now."

Jessica poked her head in Harvey's office, her gaze sliding over the pair of them. She smiled for a moment when she saw Harvey's sister sitting across from him and she offered Charlie a greeting, her voice much warmer than it had been when she summoned Harvey just seconds before.

Harvey pulled his eyes away from his sister long enough to acknowledge Jessica's presence, but not so long as to miss Charlie make a conscious shift as she wiped the doom and gloom from her face to greet the managing partner.

Charlie smiled as she said hello and Harvey gave a light snort and shook his head, gestures Jessica narrowed her eyes at. Jessica liked the girl, liked that she had always been an assertive little thing. She had a lot to learn, but Jessica liked that Charlie gave her brother a hard time. Harvey dealing with Charlie was like Harvey having to deal with a little dose of himself, and Jessica had noted on more than one occasion that Charlie made Harvey a little more human. It was good for him.

"How's school?" Jessica asked.

"Good," Charlotte answered quickly. "Straight A's."

"Very good. Keep it up." Jessica nodded before shifting her gaze across the desk. "Harvey, I'll be in my office."

Harvey nodded and Jessica let the door close while both Specters watched her walk down the hall. Harvey promptly stood while buttoning his jacket. Despite his interest in whatever his sister had to say, his work had to come first. He couldn't, and wouldn't, let Jessica wait for too long.

"We're not finished here," Harvey said as he took a step around the desk, stopping beside his sister and waiting for him to look up at him. "Stay put. Get started on your homework."

Charlie didn't answer him. She turned her face away from him, probably to roll her damn eyes so Harvey gave her something else to roll her eyes about before stepping out to meet with Jessica.

LTLB Masterlist (Everything)

LTLB Masterlist (Chapters)

Chapter 3

#suits tv #suits #suits usa #suits netflix #suits fanfic #harvey specter #donna paulsen #jessica pearson #charlie specter

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coolcattime · 8 months ago

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re: Mianite Noir au

I have had some Ideas

Andor

Andor is a law student when he first meets the gang, I think. His father, an influential CEO or something, is pushing him to pick a specialty that benefits the company and the family, but Andor doesn't want to do that. Don't get him wrong, he likes studying law, but he'd rather use his degree to help people.

Conflicted, one day he follows the pigeons and ends up at Jordan's bar. Jordan, of course, clocks him as soon as he walks in. For one, he's younger than the usual clientele and two, his clothes are more expensive than the bar. Still, maybe it's the way the kid's wings shine purple in the light, or maybe it's a glimpse of the purple and black writing on his gun (it's his grandfather's old gun, too big for Andor's hands), but something draws him over to the kid. So, he waves Andor over to the bar, offers him a drink, and at one point, manages to lean just so to make his necklace fall out of his shirt, just for a second. (I think it was a necklace, anyway).

It's a while before Andor gets introduced to anyone else in the gang, tho, and when he does, Jordan only refers to him as "my brother." ("You have a brother?!? Since when?" "Two weeks ago :)" ). At some point, Andor makes his decision to specialize as a defense attorney and he gets cut off and disowned. It's Jordan and Capsize who help him pay for the rest of his schooling after that.

In the end, Andor ends up working part time at Jordan's bar and part time as the best defense attorney ever seen. He takes a lot of cases pro bono, refuses Tom's recruitment attempts, and just generally lives his life. Jordan is grateful to have some help around the bar. The patrons think that maybe this means the bar will be open all week now, but nooo, Jordan just had to hire the one guy who worships the same lost goddess that he does. He eventually even gets a gun that fits him better. I'm thinking a shotgun, but that's tentative.

2. Martha

I think Martha is some kind of magic prodigy who went to actual school for it, and is now like, a researcher or something. She's a bit of a snob about it and would absolutely have a heart attack if she saw how Jordan used magic. She doesn't necessarily support her brother's company, but she keeps quiet about any kind of corruption or shady shit she's seen.

3. Waglington

100% he's an assassin. He's a really fucking good one, too. Officially, he doesn't discriminate in employers or in targets. Unofficially, he won't kill kids. I'm thinking kinda along the lines of Deadpool-style, but still Wag. Does that make sense? His official legal job, tho, is architect, part of a firm with the rest of Fyre UK. Are the other wizards also hitmen? Idk, I haven't thought that far.

4. Farmer Steve

I haven't given this one much thought, but I think he's the gardener for Helgrind's mansion. That's how he met Andor, and, once Andor left for university, Steve quit working for Helgrind. He probably ends up working for Tom somehow, maybe as part of a body disposal team?

That's all I've got right now, but the au is giving me some ideas lol.

Okay okay okay! Yes yes yes yes yes to all these ideas!!!

Andor

I love love love everything you've written for Andor! I had in mind him helping Jordan out with the bar, but didn't know what else he could be doing. And I just absolutely love the idea of him being a law student/eventually defence attorney - it feels so very him.

I really like the first meeting between him and Jordan that you've written. Andor feeling lost in what to do, finding his way to Jordan's bar and immediately getting clocked by Jordan as needing help. Jordan just knowing that he's an Ianitee being like yep, gonna help this kid. (Jordan having a necklace with Ianite's symbol wasn't originally in his character description, but that's almost always an accessory I give to Redbeard and I can definitely see him giving either his necklace or a very similar one as a thank you for letting him and Capsize use the backroom).

I just love the little Ianitee found family thing going on with Andor, with Jordan basically adopting him and Jordan and Capsize paying for his schooling after Helgrind does his typical bastard man behaviour and disowns him. It's just got the very best of vibes and got me like 😭 in the most /pos way. (Also Tom being like “Have you considered joining the mob” and Abdor just being like “No :-)” is so good 10/10 no notes).

Martha

Oh I always love the vibes of Martha being like a university researcher, it suits her so well. She is absolutely a bit of a snob about magic due to her general talent with it as well as being formally educated. Oh she almost definitely walks into the bar so she can meet the man whose taken Andor is, sees Jordan haphazardly mixing magic into cocktails and wants to scream.

Waglington

Yes yes yes yes! Assassin Wag best Wag!!!!! I do absolutely live the idea of him appearing on the story because someone has ordered a hit on someone in the group and now they need to deal with him while they're trying to track down a serial killer.

I also love him still being an architect. It's how he gets in and out of place without being seen, he designed half the city. Tom hired him for architecture reasons a couple years ago and is baffled to learn that he is an assassin.

Steve

Oh this has vibes! I really like the idea of Steve working for Helgrind then immediately quitting when Andor does because he was only sticking around to make sure the kid was okay. He gets himself a small fortune from selling all the secrets he's gathered about Helgrind over the years right to Capsize, and yes definitely ends up working for Tom. I can definitely see him working in body disposal (though officially he's the gardener of one T. Castle - a cover that buys him quite a few months of not needing to tell Andor that he's working for the mob when he re-mets the kid until Andor gets to know Jordan and meets Tom).

I'm so glad you like the AU!!!! These ideas are so great thank you for sharing ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #starduststudio #mianite #noir au #prince andor #martha the mystic #waglington #farmer steve #thank you so much for the ask ❤️❤️❤️#these ideas vibe so hard its unreal!!!

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thessalian · 1 year ago

Text

Thess vs MCM Comic Con, Day 2

So today was the day. It was, I will admit, a very hard day, but it was A Day nonetheless.

Obviously, Comic Con was fun, despite ... well, public transport, home plumbing woes, whole bunches of nonsense and it just being Saturday at one of the UK's biggest conventions when you are less than mobile because of having a fucking cane. Still. Fun.

So, yeah, the usual public transport malarkey happened and when we arrived at the Excel Centre ... well, it turned out that their provisions for those requiring accessibility assistance were ... lacking. Or, to be less kind, an utter shit-show. We were crammed behind the main queues with a stall maybe four feet from our backs, with people trying to a) walk to some other part of the convention hall, or b) join a regular queue. But they finally figured out that this was actively stupid, and they moved us towards the rear, where we could kind of slip into the back one at a time after every two of the people in the regular queue had got their autographs. And there were some chairs. And good conversation. And Marion bonded with somebody over Fruits Basket. And that helped the fact that I was in a fair amount of pain and feeling very squished. Then again, it kept me from feeling any "I am meeting people I very much admire" anxiety too much.

Finally, my turn came. Matt Mercer came first, and he was an utter sweetheart who was actually really impressed by the couple of bits of my campaign that came up in conversation. (I think he was also probably slightly chuffed that I got inspired by some of his things and did something unique and interesting with them.) And @fauxfire76 got a specific shout-out because the Bunny-Bard story came out and he did seem to like how we handled it all, players and DM both. Plus he was really touched by the fact that them having people Skype in was what made me realise I could play with my dearest friends online. (And also being responsible for me meeting one of my players, and thus dearest friends.) Also, nearly forgot - he was well chuffed at what I brought for them to sign - the original Green Ronin version of the Tal'dorei Campaign Setting. I saw other people bringing sourcebooks but I think I'm the only one who brought that one. I thought it might be nice for them to see a) how far they've come and b) that we've been there since the beginning, frankly. It seems to have worked.

Little less conversation with Marisha, but I very much praised her acting / RP in Sagas of Sundry: Madness. I really do need to watch that again.

Laura, I praised her singing voice and we talked about Stray Gods (which will have to move back to the top of the Steam wish list). She was really sweet (and, later on in the photos, gave me a side-hug. It was really kind of her, given she could probably see I was struggling by then.)

Travis ... I don't think anyone's called him an "avatar of positive masculinity" to his face before, but he was really ... somewhere between flattered and touched, I think. That feels like that "someone lit up his face from the inside" expression's best description, anyway. Also we may have mentioned how good a job he and Laura seem to be doing with raising Ronin, because so many parents have doubts as to how they're doing and it's nice to hear that kind of validation.

Ashley ... equally touched by being responsible, through her Skype presence in Campaign 1, for the group I value so much today ... and also for having been company for a much younger me who had TV sitcoms for company, and thus having seen a lot of Littie!Ashley.

Sam ... Sam I saw on Broadway, so that came up. My accent came up (he was one of the few who flagged up that I in no way sound like I'm from the UK), and I mentioned having lived in New Jersey, and that @hyperewok1 lives in New Jersey, and how it was interesting that @hyperewok1 and Liam both lived in New Jersey and both played Oath of Vengeance Paladins to some degree. And together we came up with, "New Jersey breeds vengeance".

Which I then told Liam, which also got a laugh. As did my remembering about him in Dragon Age: Origins and his being various voices in Guild Wars 2, particularly this one crafting vendor who would say something every time you walked past him and my general response to any time I hear Liam's voice being a casual, out loud, "Hi, Liam!" Which I said a lot when I was playing Guild Wars 2, I can tell you.

And I was just about to get to Taliesin ... and then one of the stewards, who'd been helping me along the whole time, said that they were breaking for lunch and the photo ops, and she was really sorry, but I'd have to wait for the Talisein autograph. But I should go straight to the back area when the afternoon set came and I'd be let straight in. Okay, fine, that gave us time to find some food and a sit-down before photos.

Photos ... thankfully it was a little easier with the accessibility stuff that time, but the first photo (which was probably the better one) got nixed because of flash glare on our glasses. We didn't even get the option to see that photo - just got sent back for a second one, with head tilted down, which ... I did not need that much displayed double chin, thank you very fucking much. I'd rather have the lens flare. I can live with being in a JJ Abrams film. Anyway, the picture exists but I dislike it a lot. Marion looks great, though.

Anyway, after some cooldown time, and a bit of shopping wherein I found some dice that fit an Alisaie sort of theme (to go with the Scanlan-themed ones I got mostly because Purple and Bard), back to the autograph session. The very American woman helping out was in conversation with I think friends of hers and kind of didn't notice me there, so I spoke to a security guard and mentioned what happened at the morning session and he went back to get her. She came back looking hugely apologetic going, "Were you just there the whole time and I just ignored you? I am so sorry!" I told her it was fine and explained and she said, "Well, you've obviously been through it today so I'm going to just bring you straight in there because ... it's not protocol, but fuck it." Unfortunately, Taliesin was a bit behind schedule joining the others for the autographs (maybe an individual photo session ran long, maybe he was waiting for meds to kick in, all of the above, who knows? We just hoped he was okay), so she put me right at the front of the accessibility queue and even pulled over a chair so I could sit down. So we sat and watched the cosplay go by, had a nice conversation with some other people in the queue, and watched Felicia Day smack a cosplay Pike with a LARP mace. As you do.

Eventually, Taliesin turned up, looked really flustered, so we were just calling out, "It's okay! Take a minute!" So he did, and eventually he got started and I demonstrated my ability to be very fucking organised. I had my QR code out and ready, I still had my original Post-it with the name I wanted used (Thess, I used, because, as I told most of them, "Everyone I like calls me Thess"), and so when the steward looked at me, I just handed him my phone, opened my Tal'dorei guide to the right place and said, "That's the Post-it; I'm all set". I did that a couple of times over the course of the autographs and in both cases I got stares and, "...thank yooooooou..." It was a hard day for the poor sods. Most of them aren't even getting paid for this.

So then I got Taliesin's autograph. He's the only one who pronounced "Thess" properly (a lot of them didn't pronounce the H), and that got mentioned, and he asked where it was from (so Marion got in on the conversation because he asked if it was a Welsh name, and Marion's Welsh, so...) and I told him the Thancred / Therapy story and when I shook his hand, he did the "take hand in both his" thing (Matt did that too) and it was great.

And then Marion asked if I wanted to go home and I said "YES" with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Because as fun as it all was, I was stressed and in SO MUCH PAIN and very tired. And so we are now home after the usual absolute horror of public transport when tired, sore, and fed up.

But one more thing that put an added bit of sparkle to the evening. We were walking towards the door of the block of flats, and some people I don't honestly remember having seen had just come up from the block of flats and one of them stopped me and went, "Hey! We're wearing the same shirt!" And we were - the "Don't Forget To Love Each Other" one, though I'm not sure if his is the original or the second iteration. Doesn't really matter. So I asked if they were going to the MCM After-party. They said no, they couldn't get tickets to the live show so they more or less skipped it and I mentioned we'd just come from the Excel Centre and I had their autographs. From the reaction of one of the women of their little group, if I'd told them we also had a picture, her head might have exploded through sheer "impressed" and "envious". So they wished us a lovely evening and we wished them the same and so I apparently have Critters for neighbours. And I would bet money they're the ones who make the corridor smell of weed, but never mind.

So all in all, for all the OW OW OW OW OW, a good day. And now we're going to wait for takeaway curry to arrive because apparently asking me to cook was a bridge too far and I'm honestly too tired to argue with that.

#mcm expo

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marjansmarwani · 1 year ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤ (—maddie/reyesstrand 💗)

Thank you, Maddie, I always appreciate the opportunity to self-promote (which is something I think we should all do more often)!

It took me a while to pick mostly because I have 130 Lone Star fics alone, but I tried to go with the ones I really, truly love. Which was hard because I loving a fic a requirement for it being posted at all. But I managed to select 5, eventually.

would've loved you for a lifetime

Prompt: Characters are secretly married and one of them is hurt at work ----- The story of how TK and Carlos came together, and how they almost missed out on their future before it even got a chance to start.

This is a favorite because I really think that some of the descriptions are closer to poetry than any actual poetry that I've ever tried to write. It was also the first time I ever worked with a non-linear narrative, which is a technique I love. The story of TK and Carlos secretly getting married was fun to piece together and reveal in pieces. When it comes to the actual language used this is still probably my favorite thing I have ever written.

I am not what you planned

Dr. Carlos Reyes can’t stand the newest paramedic at the 126. He’s cocky, impulsive, abrasive, and — while admittedly very good at his job — a thorn in his side. Paramedic TK Strand feels the same: he can’t seem to go anywhere in this damn city without someone singing the praises of the young, talented local-boy-turned-doctor. But as time passes some of the bravado fades and their true natures are revealed. Slowly they each start to realize that maybe the other isn’t as bad as they once thought and that maybe — just maybe — there is much more to them than meets the eye. ---- aka the Dr. Reyes/Paramedic Strand Enemies to Lovers AU

Each of my AUs has a special place in my heart (especially the teacher AU, which I almost picked instead) but writing this one was such an experience, and writing the enemies part of this fic was probably some of the most fun I've ever had while writing. I don't think I'll ever be over this fic, truly.

the truth is stranger than all my dreams

Marjan likes to think that she’s confident, that she can take on anything. But things are showing her that she may not know herself as well as she thinks and that the future can be a scary thing. ----- A Marjan centric 2x04 Coda

Outside of tarlos and Owen, my favorite character to write about is Marjan. Because she is my absolute favorite, after all. But this one always sticks out to me because after the whole thing with Salim what struck me most was the unexpected uncertain future she was suddenly faced with, which I would imagine would feel both liberating and absolutely terrifying. So I wanted to explore that and I am pleased with how it came out.

why can't I hold on?

There is nothing in the world Gwyn Morgan loves more than her children. Loving them has never been hard, but having to stand aside as life took its toll? That was something else entirely—especially when it came to her oldest. Or, 5 times Gwyn feared for her oldest son, and the one time she knew he would be okay

My Gwyn fic, aka one of only two fics that have ever made me cry while writing. I love Gwyn so much, and I started writing this fic as soon as she was mentioned in the show. I originally paused on it to wait until we had a better feel for her as a character and ultimately didn't finish it until they killed her, which added a whole other dimension to the writing of this. I vividly remember working on this fic while sitting at my neighborhood coffee shop as Amen came on my shuffle. I had to leave because I started crying. But, regardless of the emotional devastation, I really enjoyed filling in some blanks and accidentally creating an origin story for the coma cookies. And I love her even more after writing this (I'm still not over what they did to her, btw)

the stain you can't wash out

In Owen’s experience, guilt went hand in hand with grief. — An(other) Owen character study that wouldn’t leave me alone after 3x16

The Owen grief fic (or one of them, at least). One of the reasons I like this one is the title, which came from a poem I attempted to write and failed. But mostly it's because Owen Strand is a mess and I love digging around inside his mind. I can't quite explain why I am so fascinated by writing fics by him but I think it has something to do with the fact that I see him as an actually fascinating character that they just don't use to his full potential. There could be some great stories told with the things they have already given the character, but they consistently make the stupidest choices when it comes to him. So I love this fic because I enjoyed reexamining his character in the light of learning about his dead brother and extrapolating how that effected him and informed everything he did from that point forward and how he masks his grief with his job, and how his work is what keeps him from going insane as it feels like penance that he is still paying all these years later. I enjoyed looking at all the parts of his life (and sketching out my idea for his first meeting with Gwyn) even if writing about his experience on 9/11 was intense.

Honorable mentions (because I can't help myself):

Stars Will Guide You Home - aka the carjacking fic, as affectionately named by @terramous

you can't hide from time - because I love the 252 crew as I imagined them here and would love to revisit them at some point in the future

#911 lone star #911ls fic #asked and answered #reyesstrand #maddie tag #my fics

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nancypullen · 9 months ago

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Hello?

Anyone still here? I don't even remember the last time that I posted. The job is consuming me and I'm looking for reasons not to quit. There, I said it. It's too many hours and I have no life. I don't have time to do a single thing that I enjoy. It's definitely taking a physical toll on me - sciatica, ankle issues, etc. BUT (and isn't there always a but?) I'm stuffing money into my savings, I enjoy my lovely coworkers, and there is potential to do more things that I think I'd be good at...my displays are a hit, the children's librarian is making noise about having me do some storytime activities, and I'm getting better at the things that I found daunting when I started. The library is a comfortable place for me, I just wish they'd cut me back to true part-time, 20 hours a week or less. I wanted a small job where I could meet people and do some good. I didn't want to hand over all of my waking hours. Having said that, I should admit that I've had a lovely string of three days off. Mostly because I had the week from Hell with only Sunday off prior to that. I'm 60, I'm not built for long days and late nights anymore. Only a granny would consider working until 8 pm a "late night". In my youth anything before midnight was considered early. Every night when I get off work my watch congratulates me for being active 9 out of 9 hours.

I don't even want to do anything that feels good for nine hours, let alone stooping, lifting, walking, carrying, pushing carts, and maxing out my smile muscles. Something has to change but I can't bring myself to be a quitter. I hate to quit something that I'm good at, but I hate missing out on my life even more. Now that I've whined about that - what's new with you? Tried any new recipes? Gone somewhere fun? Getting excited about the feel of SPRING in the air? I'm itching to poke around in the gardens. My tulips are all up and look exceptionally healthy, so we should have a burst of color soon. Robins have been singing to us and there's a woodpecker making noise daily which is a sure sign of spring. When the males start drumming they're claiming territory and looking for a Mrs. The birds and squirrels seem generally happier, like they've been waiting for those first sweet daffodils to appear and wake up the earth (maybe that was just me). Any way you slice it, Old Man Winter is packing his bags. He can be slow and stubborn about leaving, sometimes giving us a last blast, but he's definitely departing. We'll set our clocks forward on the 10th and it's going to be so nice to leave work at 6:15 or so and enjoy a little daylight. I miss getting some sunshine during the day. During my lunch break I go down to the wharves by the Choptank River just so I can see some sky and soak up a little vitamin D. Turns out I am definitely solar powered. In other spring news, I ORDERED A ROSE BUSH. That's probably not big news to most folks, certainly not worthy of capital letters, but this one is special. I've wanted one for a while, couldn't find it (at least not at a price I was willing to pay) and if we leave this house I'm going to dig it up and take it with me. It's a Zephirine Drouhin rose. She's a deep pink climbing rose, very fragrant, very hearty, will even thrive in shade (I'm guessing it might not bloom as much) and, best of all, it's thornless!

She's going to be planted in a sunny corner where she can climb all over my little porch nook. I'm so excited! Of course the picture above is a long way off for me. When mine arrives it will look like this...

Never say I'm not a dreamer. I'm positive that this is in my future. Honestly, how could I resist this?

Description

Intoxicating Raspberry Fragrance

Introduced in 1868 and a favorite ever since, Zephirine Drouhin Climbing Rose is a romantic, fantastically fragrant, old-fashioned rose that is still one of the most popular climbers today. No modern rose has been able to exceed it for sheer performance, rich raspberry scent, and generous season-long bloom, and if you make Zephirine Drouhin Climbing Rose part of your landscape, you will treasure its beauty and generosity of bloom.

Peaking in spring and fall, the loose, double blossoms of vivid cerise-carmine provide outstanding mass effect. Each bloom is about 4 inches across, opening from a long, pointed bud and made up of 20 to 24 richly colored petals that are infused with a strong, evocative raspberry scent. Just one flower is a delight, so you can imagine what a vaseful looks and smells like.

This old French Bourbon rose grows vigorously to 15 to 20 feet high and 4 to 6 feet wide and, remarkable for any rose, performs well in part shade. Zephirine Drouhin Climbing Rose is an excellent choice for north-facing walls and areas with little sunlight. Zephirine Drouhin Climbing Rose will continue to bloom in summer, but its heaviest showing will usually be in the cooler temperatures of spring and fall.

The rich, medium-green foliage (coppery-purple when young) is very mildew resistant, and the canes are thornless, making Zephirine Drouhin Climbing Rose great for planting where traffic is heavy or children are nearby. This classic, time-tested climbing rose is the perfect choice to train over a trellis or porch, or trim into a formal hedge. Plant in moist, well-drained, loamy soil. I mean, what more could I ask for from a rose bush? Raise your hand if you think my optimism is setting me up for huge disappointment. I can't help myself. It's like my love affair with hydrangeas - they often break my heart but I can't give up on them. I'm sure that Zephirine and I will become besties. I have no other news to share because I can't really talk to you about funny library moments/patrons. This town is too small for me to try to change names to protect the innocent - people would know. I doubt anyone around here knows I have a blog but I'd rather not chance angry villagers in my yard with torches. I suppose I could talk about the rude elevator repair guy who has been in the building for at least two weeks with no end in sight. Our elevator was due for a complete overhaul so that's what's happening. The foreman on the job is a Trumpy, rude, misogynistic jerk. I said what I said. It's not just me, other employees who have dealt with him say the same. It's something every day. Last Wednesday I was setting up my displays for the month of March and he started making noise about the Women's History Month display. I gave him my steeliest gaze and told him that he is vastly outnumbered and to tread lightly. Then the jerk points at a book and said something along the lines of, "Why is that book there?" I saw what he was pointing at (Kamala Harris bio) but decided to make him say it. So I asked which book he meant, he muttered, "second shelf, far right". I responded, "OH. THE VICE-PRESIDENT? That's history." accompanied by a look that dared him to say more. He walked off and I admit that I was surprised that he wasn't dumb enough to be wearing $400 gold sneakers sold to him by a certain con man. My display was filled with books on amazing women - women in science, women in the arts, women in the military, women from all walks of life and political persuasions. The only thing that didn't belong was a narrow-minded doofus, so I got rid of him. I can't wait for the elevator work to be completed but I admit that I don't want to be the first one to use it. He really doesn't like us. It's probably not just us, I get the feeling that he goes through life like that. That went negative, didn't it? From gushing about roses to wanting to squash a bug of a man. Oops. Speaking of men, Mickey is waiting for lunch and then I think we're going to go poke around at the auction house. I'll make salads for dinner and then do a little meal prep for the week ahead. I'm back at work tomorrow after some lovely days off, so I need to get myself mentally prepared. The Edgewaters came over this weekend and the grandgirl was quite entertaining - lots of playing, fort building, reading, and fun. It was nice to have that family time. Alright, I'm outta' here. I hope that this blog post finds you smack dab in the middle of a good day. I hope that you're content, and that you're taking care of yourself. Feed your body good food, feed your mind good thoughts, and treat your heart with tenderness. Stay safe, stay well, spring forward! XOXO, Nancy

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