#it's already documented how netflix is a bad business

[froggynelson]

marvel studios making tv has been a trainwreck of a business model from the start, but seeing people trying to imply that netflix had a good model for making tv in comparison. like are we talking about the same netflix studios. the streaming service. hello.

[mellow-island7]

Twitter Drafts

was writing down my twitter drafts in a word document cause i'm gonna deactivate my twitter again cause i'm getting overwhelmed again by everything and thought i'd share some of these on tumblr lol

These drafts start from now (8/23/23) and go all the way back to i think like a year ago or something like that, some of the drafts are unfinished but yea anyways heres some of them

(pt 1)

(ps my bad i probably sound like an asshole in some of these, i was really sad and have been stuck in a perpetual shit cycle for the past 3 years)(but also i have to learn to stop apologizing for things that i don't need to be sorry for)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stuck in a body that isn’t mine,

Everything is a waste of time

Dumb yuppie mfkrs talking about being “broke” with a car, a house, gear that works and a house that has food everyday :|

Lol :|

We need a show in south florida for the Daniel Johnston fans all 5 to 6 of us

Mfkrs will literally kick you down and be like dude get up already, stop being lazy

Its funny hearing people talking about getting older and gaining weight and running out of breath and I’m like “dude literally all you do is smoke weed and watch shit on Netflix, what the fuck would you expect”

Lol you really not grown till you get sued for the first time

Mad respect and appreciation for anyone that takes the time to try and and understand themselves emotionally

In my head thinking about how it totally not cute to be this sad at my age

In my head counting all the people that hate me

I’m grateful for the people that I’ve been friends with since middle school

The online therapists are exploiting mental illness, places like b*tter help want you to think you are weak and they want you to think you can’t do it yourself so that you can pay them a good amount of money to talk you into fixing your own problems

Yea I’m probably gonna hold off on doing shit seriously till I have money again

I know where I am, I know where I’m going and I know how I’m gonna get there

You should be scared you fucking limp dick weasel, I hope you get everything that you have coming for you

Wtf you could bs nose slide? :o

I just wanna skate and make music with my friends, its not that complicated

This mini ramp is slowly but surely making my brain so much stronger

Don’t understand plus don’t care plus don’t wanna understand plus I gotta st

Do things for genuine reasons

I need to stop apologizing for things I don’t need to be sorry about

(added this in rn, wasn’t originally in our twitter drafts ^^^)

Nick is like the mike Sinclair to my billy marks

One day when I’m older and more stable with money and more in a place of comfort, I look forward to being able to smoke weed while playing playstation 2 games

Lifes moving in such a weird direction and I’m really happy and excited but also a lil sad also goddamn some of the things happening  are so bizarre

Educate the yuppie jits, they don’t know any better

You are exactly like all the people you complain about and if you weren’t busy having your head so far up your own ass maybe you could see that

I love being an internet music nerd, all I wanna do is be on my computer and listen to music and make shit

I’m trying very hard to stay optimistic and keep working hard towards things that I think actually matter and if you are in any way trying to impede on that optimism (no matter how false you think it may be) then FUCK YOUUUUU just SHUT THE FUCK UP

Growing up means literally faking being happy every day

I can’t wait to turn 30

I need a job so fucking bad and I desperately need to leave this house

Steel reserve suicide? 👀

Fuck it lol I think imma finish as much as I can of the ruffans stuff and put it out as a demos album LOL (at this point that makes more sense than having this be an actual album)

Definitely gotta keep our friends humble cause :| some mfkrs are getting so prideful and arrogant :|

I think we need to start roasting our friends a bit more, so many specific people are getting way too prideful and arrogant, like there’s nothing in with feeling a sense of pride in your self but definitely gotta humble people when they’re getting out of pocket

Being in a car with people that drive like shit :| is so fucking annoying :| and then they wanna act like you’re annoying as fuck for being scared :| fried ass mfkrs :|

Too many people down bad rn, get it together

:| talking about these things with the people you love is :| so :| fucking :| hard :| life is moving and changing in so many directions in so many ways :| and

You will only come to realize this when it is way too late and you’ve done an insane amount of irreparable damage and then you will regret so much as we all come to do

Life at 17: I need to kill myself Σ('◉⌓◉’)

Life at 24: yea fuck this dude I’m out :|

Lol its funny to me that theres people that only like me because I’m so sad and that feels soo fucked up for some reason

I don’t care if it’s good enough because it is genuinely the best can do

(rn)

Phone password is **** and my computer password is ******, theres a lot of live video and audio recordings of peoples bands and maybe some photos and logos and art and other random bullshit, if anyone cares to go and try and find that, go for it

I tried, sorry, thanks

(anecdote: lol fucking dumb edgy imbecile thinking anyone would give a fuck to try and find any of that garbage

Thanks

Its fireeee :,| <3

Goddammit ramon just do it already, watching you get up and keep trying is humiliating it feels like watching a one legged dog keep tripping over himself tryna cross the street, its so fucking sadd

No I’m not doing okay why the fuck would you askme some stupid dumbass question like that, tryna be on some hold your head up king bullshit, like I’m glad that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re happy, that’s awesome for you I love that for you genuinely but what the fuck I am obviously not happy why the fuck would you ask me that like what the fuck am I actually supposed to say to that

I am not too fond of punk music or shoegaze music or metal music(as genres), theres specific bands and individuals that I like but in general sense most of those genres are so fucking boring

I feel like I haven’t had a real conversation with another human being in so long, I feel so detached from reality like as if I’m not real and I’m watching myself continue on autopilot from outside my body

I’m the kind of stupid where I’ll have no money, get $5 and decide to share it with someone so we could eat together

:3

Sitting thinking about how many days will have to pass before have to sell my fuzzwar and amp and other belongings that mean a lot to me?

(something is wrong/broken)

One brain cell dimwit human being who is not doing anything to fix it or help in any way: “why are you not fixing this? What is wrong with you you useless irresponsible asshole?”

:|

I wish I had what you had

(plural)

I’m getting real close to selling my fuzzwar, at this point in life I have no one I’m close enough that would know what that would mean to me or even care but maya gave me that for my 19th brirthday, it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever

Jesus christ the way that asia argento looks at rip torn in marie Antoinette and just thinking about times in life when someone looked at you like that while touching your face

[mermaidsirennikita]

I'm seeing some stupid arguments about how they said they got permission from Netflix and how Netflix admitted they turned a blind eye and how Netflix promoted them on social media etc etc...however none of that matters? Clearly Netflix let them do this because it was free promo and they even offered selling a licence (or something) to them in order for them to performe the show, which they turned down while also giving fake assurances they weren't making any money off of it. But I'm sorry when they started making money they crossed a big line in this unspoken agreement they made with Netflix.

Here's a big fucking lesson for everyone, unless Bear and Barlow have a rabbit in the hat that we're all unaware of--don't think that because someone says it's okay, or tweets about it, or even sends you an email being like heeeey we love it--that they won't change their minds. You need legal documentation, overlooked by their attorneys and yours, which says you have permission. You need every i dotted and t crossed, because the copyright owner can at (from what I understand) any time take you on unless you do.

And I don't want to hear the whining about how Netflix was happy to take the promo. Yeah, duh. That's not just a Netflix thing, babes. When you see David Jenkins retweet OFMD fanart--I'm sure he genuinely loves it. But that's also free promo for his show (and the OFMD fan art has netted them a lot of new viewers, I'd wager, so it works). When you see a teeny tiny author repost shit on TikTok of fans cosplaying as her characters and gives the hearteyes emoji, she's taking advantage of free promo. And I don't begrudge anyone that! If you have paid for a copyright or done the work to create something you own the copyright for, your dues have been paid in that sense--and you're probably (definitely) still paying for more marketing. As long as fans have existed, fans have given free promo and creators have taken it on, because guess what? When you create a fanwork, you are only able to do that because someone else has created the original source material. And if you're really fucking good at creating fanworks, maybe one day you will be able to take your show on the road and sell your own original work, and you got a huge boost by engaging in the fandom that exists because of that original copyright holder, and so the cycle goes on.

If Bear and Barlow had played this right, they could have minimally had a licensing deal with Netflix (which Netflix didn't have to offer, but probably offered because they're averse to bad press at the moment). They could've had a business relationship with Netflix and quite possibly Shonda Rhimes (and Julia Quinn to some extent). If everyone had gotten along, who knows what kind of doors that could've opened? They already have a fanbase, a Grammy win (which they probably won in large part because the show existing was a free campaign) and got to shake hands with people they never would've met otherwise. The natural move would've been to take that and make their own original work and profit off of it.

Any fanfic author worth their salt knows that you can't just start making money off of fanworks without putting yourself in danger. There are minors who would've thought better than to do this, lol. EL James got dangerously close to getting her ass sued by Stephenie Meyer for 50 Shades, and she was in a much better position legally as her work was more transformative, whereas this musical is literally Bridgerton adapted.

I'm already so sick of the "but the little guy" arguments. Sooooo we just allow them to do this because they're the little guy and Netflix is the big guy and set a precedent in which other little guys can get fucked when a big or little guy makes money off shit they didn't pay to adapt?

[anxious-allie-ren]

Hey everyone! I’d like to introduce the new story I am writing! You can find it on both my AO3 and Wattpad. Both of which are linked in my bio. But I’ll also be posting the chapters here for you all. Be easy on me as I haven’t quite figured out how to post chapters on here and create a master list. That is something I will be working on. Alright, now in to the good stuff.

Erota

As the only daughter from a high society family, the pressure is on you to impress the ton and find a suitable match. You hope to find love, but your fate is decided for you. Your marriage is arranged to King Kylo of Chandrila. Pain and tough decisions are soon to follow.

This story is inspired by Bridgerton and regency era.

Hello everyone! I have been dreaming of writing this fic for a bit now and finally gathered the courage to do it! Like I said in the description, this story is heavily influenced by the regency era and the Netflix show Bridgerton. I've done my best to keep it accurate to both the era and the Star Wars world. I hope you enjoy!

The Ton.

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The season has finally arrived. You have officially joined the ton and are coming out into society. The debutantes of higher society are to be presented in court. This now includes you and your family.

You were the only child of the Duke of Selonia. A small territory southeast of Drall within the kingdom of Corellia. It's a quaint little area, nothing to brag about. It was cozy and calm. Many of the families had lived in the area for generations. Neighbors all knew each other. But despite its comfort and kindness it was lacking funds.

Since you had been able to remember, life was very simple. You helped in the gardens, the kitchens, and even with the laundry work. Your family took trips to town often, visiting with the people. Your mother loved to stop at the bakery and buy pastries to bring back to the estate. She told you stories from her childhood as bedtime stories. Coming from a common family and marrying into high society. Your parents married for love and not statues. Many scolded your father for marrying "below his station" but he let their words roll off his shoulders. He was attracted to your mother for her beauty, kindness, and capabilities. Your mother was no stranger to hard work, and she assured you weren't as well.

As you matured, you watched as your home aged as well. Bricks began to weather with time and vegetation started to take over. Farmers had less success each year and businesses were closing. The help your father was once so quick to provide had now dwindled into nothing. There was no help to give. The funding was nearly gone. After your mother's death, the strong and reliable man you had once called your father was gone. What replaced him was a shell of a man. He gave up on his duties as a duke and instead threw his time and money into bad habits. Gambling and drinking had become his crutch.

You lost your mother in your adolescence. Still a young girl so in need of a mother and her guidance. Her death left you confused and in desperate need of comfort. You tried to lean on your father. But in his own grief, he seemed to forget about you. Instead, you turned to your community. The maids and butlers became your family. They ensured your schooling would continue. The men even went as far as to teach you math and science. When you entered your teens, you attempted to take on the dukedom in secret. You went over all the documents and finances, trying to find a way to help your people and restore your estate. It was to no avail. Nothing could be done without your fathers signature. So you were left with no choice but to let it go. You focused on your studies and lessons with the maids. They helped bring you to maturity. Now, it was time to join society as an eligible woman.

Marriage has been heavy on your mind for many years now. The idea of meeting a man and marrying just for statues or titles didn't interest you. Neither of those things mattered to you. A marriage had become something with such a negative connotation. But love, now that was very different. You yearned for a true love match. You craved a deep connection unlike any you'd ever experienced. As a child, you'd developed small crushes on some of the neighborhood children. The butterflies and blushed looks were something you understood. But you'd never felt love before. You loved your family of course. You even loved your townspeople. But that was so different from what you hoped to find.

Becoming a debutante was not something you were looking forward to. Joining the ladies of high society was only asking for drama. But as the daughter of a Duke, it was your duty to join the ton and find a suitable husband. This had become increasingly important as your territory lost more and more money to your father's lifestyle. These thoughts scrambled around your mind as you got ready. You would be heading to the first ball of the season, your entrance into society, in moments. You were dressed in your nicest items. A deep red ball gown embroidered with golden florals along the bottom of the skirt and corset. Your hair was pinned back, allowing your face to stand out. Your maid, Jillian, was helping you put on your shoes as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Jillian had been with your family before your mother passed. She had watched you grow from a pained child to a strong young woman. She was with you every step of the way. Jillian became a motherly figure and your most trusted confidant.

Jillian pats your calf as she begins to stand, finished with clasping your heels. Her touch pulls you from your thoughts. You give her a polite smile and thank her, turning back to the mirror. Your anxiety is growing with each tick of the clock and in typical Jillian fashion, she can sense your discomfort. She comes to stand behind you, adjusting the pins in your hair.

"You know you're prepared for this. There's no need to sit and worry."

You meet her gaze in the mirror, her gentle blue eyes giving you a wave of comfort. You let out a sigh and play with your fingers.

"I felt prepared, but now that it's upon me, I'm not so sure. So much is at stake here, Jillian. The people of Selonia are relying on me to find someone who can help. What if I'm not up to standards?"

Jillian only chuckles at your words and places her hands on either of your shoulders.

"Standards? Now you're just being silly. You are a kind, intelligent, and strong young lady. Any suitor would be lucky to have you as his wife."

You turn to look at her, face scrunched in concentration.

"That's exactly the issue! It can't just be any suitor. They need to be able to fix dukedom and be the love I've been waiting for. What if that's unrealistic? How can I ever find someone to do both?"

Jillian places a comforting hand on your cheek, her thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone. She gives you a small smile before she speaks.

"Is that what you're so worried about? Dear, you're placing too much stress on yourself. Don't worry about the dukedom or Selonia. Go and find your love, everything else will fall in place."

You lean into her hand and smile, her words bringing you peace and a newfound sense of confidence. She pulls her hand away and turns towards your bedroom door. She calls back to you, "Now let's get you going! It's time."

————————————————

The carriage stopped in front of the King's summer estate. Many of the guests were already walking up the grand entrance and making their way inside. Your father hurried around and opened the door for you, holding his hand out and helping you down. Tonight he was doing his best to look and act presentable. You place your hand in his bent arm and let him lead you into the ball. Neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other in years. You were surprised he even accompanied you tonight. His presence only made you nervous again. You weren't sure what his intent was by coming. Was he finally stepping back into his positions as father and Duke? Or was there some ulterior motive?

You found out quickly as he leaned in to speak to you, just as you were arriving at the entrance of the ballroom.

"I am expecting you to perform well tonight. I want to see gentlemen callers of high status calling on you tomorrow."

You look up at him and furrow your brows in confusion. So this is what he came for? To ensure you schmoozed with the highest titles with the most money? If so, he's going to be very disappointed.

"I'm here to find a reasonable suitor for myself, father. Not a suitor for you and Selonia."

He stops walking at your words, his head turning to look down at you. You can see his clenched jaw and anger in his eyes. His distaste for your words is written all over his face.

"Stop with your foolish girly fantasy of a love match. You're here to do as I say, and I'll be damned if you disobey me."

His words sting your heart. Your father had never spoken to you this way. When you were young, he was always so gentle and loving towards you. Now it seems you're just another pawn to be thrown around his chessboard as he pleased. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your gaze back down. Now was not the time to worry about this. You had more pressing matters.

You allowed your father to lead you to the entrance, stopping to allow the announcer to get your names. You took a deep breath as you prepared to face the ton. First impressions were everything, and you did not want to screw this up. The announcer clears his throat and stands at attention. Everyone in the room stops what they're doing to await the next debutante.

"Presented by her father, the Duke of Selonia, Miss Y/F/N."

You stare forward as your father leads you into the ballroom and towards the King and Queen of Corellia. You both stopped before them, your father unlinking your arms and bowing. You fall into a curtsy, bowing your head in respect. Your father stands back up and looks to the king. You stay still, awaiting the command to move. The king of Corellia rises from his throne and moves to stand in front of you. Everyone holds their breath, watching closely to see what unfolds. He places a gentle finger under your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze.

"Stand up for me, dear. You can relax."

You do as he says and stand quickly, giving him a polite smile as you return his intense eye contact. His finger never leaves your chin. He smiles back at you and begins to speak again.

"You are a true beauty, my dear. You know, they say the eyes are a window to the soul. I can see the love and strength living within yours. Hold onto that, they will be your biggest asset."

Your eyes widen at his words. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

"Thank you, your majesty."

With that, he removes his finger from your chin and climbs back to his throne. He turns his attention back to the room and declares, "Let the festivities continue."

Your father grabs ahold of your arm again and leads you away from the thrones. You can feel the crowd staring at you, but you can't find it in you to care. King Luke of Corellia spoke to you! Not only that, but he complimented you. This was a great honor bestowed on very few. You would take his advice to heart.

It seems your father had a different perspective. He leads you to a table with dance cards placed neatly in rows. You begin to search for your name as he smirks and begins talking.

"Compliments from the king will help greatly in gaining potential suitors. You'll be the most desired lady in the ton. Seems finding you a husband of high title will be easier than I thought."

You finish tying the card to your wrist and turn to look at the room. Your father continues to talk as you observe your surroundings. You look up at the elegant chandelier. It shines beautifully in the light, casting sparkles all over the room. You watch as they dance across the guests, creating an angelic and light atmosphere. A waiter comes by and offers you and your father glasses of champagne. You take a small sip and return your attention to the crowd. Many of the ladies are giving you glares or speaking with the eligible men in attendance. You take notice of their attire. Many have much more elegant gowns and jewels on. Their appearance shows how much they have to offer. Your feelings of inadequacy begin to creep back in. You don't even notice a man approaching.

Your gaze stops on a young man across the room. His dark brown curls and bright smile grabbed your attention. He was speaking to another man, seeming to be in deep conversation. His face was so expressive as he spoke, hands moving about to help prove whatever point he was trying to make. You couldn't help but be captivated by him. If there was anyone you were hoping to get a moment with this evening, it was him.

You snap from your thoughts as your father greets him and motions towards you. This man must have been reaching his thirties. Much older than any of the debutantes here. His bright ginger hair stands out like a sore thumb. He makes eye contact with you as your father talks. An uneasy feeling sweeps over you. For some reason, something about this man doesn't sit right with you.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet the Earl of Drall, Lord Armitage Hux" your father says as he motions towards the man. Lord Hux takes your hand and raises it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. The contact makes you cringe internally. Your father looks at you expectantly and you quickly pull yourself together.

"Hello Lord Hux, it is so nice to meet you."

Your father smiles at both of you and claps a hand on Lord Hux's shoulder.

"Lord Hux here is a good friend of mine. I was hoping to introduce you both tonight."

The uneasy feeling now makes sense. Any friend of your fathers is likely a crook. Not at all the type of man you want to be speaking to. You nod politely, biting your tongue from speaking your mind freely. The men then turn away from you and begin a discussion of their own, leaving you out. You lift your glass of champagne back to your lips and turn your gaze back to the direction of the man you had spotted before.

Instead of finding the curly haired man again, you met eyes with someone else. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back was a raven haired man. He stood tall and broad, much larger than any other man in the room. His gaze pierced through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You wanted to approach him, but to do so would make you look indecent.

Your eye contact is cut off by Lord Hux coming in front of you. He holds out his arm to you in invitation.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Lady Y/N?"

You wanted nothing more than to say no and go speak to the mystery man. Or even go find the curly haired man from before. But you know you had no choice in the matter. To deny him would make you look bad to the ton. Plus, your father would never stand for it. So you placed your hand in his arm and nod.

"Of course, Lord Hux."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Allie

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x04- And the clerk had a firm...

You can tell I’m enjoying this season when episodes air on Thursdays and I’ve written a recap by Friday night. More under the cut, as always. 

I woke up very early on Thursday morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to just watch this episode on my phone (I write these on rewatch). I’m sure the show was hoping that the upside-down clips of fake!Love Island would be disorienting, but wow, did this work on me. Between the lack of sleep and how plausible it would’ve been for me to accidentally have my phone upside-down with rotation lock on... I truly thought it was an ad for Love Island and also had to pause the episode to check my phone settings. Good job, show!

It turns out, however, that Carmen is doing a headstand and watching reality TV on her laptop. Very happy to see Carmen at home. It would be easy for the show to have her just be a mysterious presence at the firm, so even seeing her do perfectly normal things is a good reminder that she is a whole person and not just Associate Who Will Defend Anyone.  

(I wouldn’t have expected Carmen to enjoy reality tv, but then again, I love Big Brother so...)

Carmen lives in a studio that doesn’t look like it is brand new!!! I’m ridiculously excited to see an apartment that actually looks like a place someone fresh out of law school might live. I’d believe it if Carmen lived in a studio in a luxury building or a one-bed on the salary she’s surely making at RL, but it’s very refreshing to see a character who isn’t super-wealthy on this show that tends to be about, well, very wealthy people.  

Carmen is smarter than every other character on this show and on most TV shows: instead of opening the door without taking any precautions, she puts the chain on first. Remember how people used to just show up at Alicia’s door when she was the governor’s wife, and she’d always just open the door and look surprised?  

Charles Lester is at Carmen’s door even though it’s nearly midnight. She tries to get him to leave, but he insists on staying. She closes the door to undo the chain, and uses the privacy of the closed door to grab a makeshift weapon, just in case.

Carmen explains her apartment by saying, “student loans.” So she doesn’t come from (excessive) money. (Or she was cut off by her family, but I feel like the early character description of Carmen said something about her family not having money.)  

Lester has something very important to tell Carmen, but all his notes are on different scraps of paper and, even though he says his information is time sensitive, he takes his time looking for the right piece of paper.

He says Carmen can’t say she heard the info from him, blah blah. He’s there to share that in ten minutes, someone at the firm is going to be searched by the FBI. This info comes, of course, from Rivi.  

Do we think Lester has to reference his notes to remember that the FBI is searching a name partner of Carmen’s firm? Or do we think he’s fucking with her? I think the latter.

Carmen was doing exercises to help with migraines, btw.  

Carmen calls Diane to tip her off. Diane and Kurt are already asleep, but luckily, Diane has her phone on full volume and takes the call. She’s not happy about it and asks if it can wait until tomorrow. Asks is the wrong word—she instructs the caller to hang up if it can wait.  

Even though Carmen can’t say where she got the information, Diane knows it must be from Rivi. Seems obvious enough.

Kurt gets out of bed and starts locking up guns and getting to work; Diane calls Liz. Liz is in bed with a guy we’ve never seen before and she does not really want to talk.  

Liz notes that the info also could’ve come from Wolfe-Coleman, since Carmen is “tangled up with some rough characters.”  

I’m sorry, fake Netflix CEO man... WHY ARE YOU STILL TRYING TO KISS AND PLAY WITH LIZ WHEN SHE IS ON THE PHONE TALKING ABOUT PURGING FILES AND THE FBI????  

I don’t even hold this against the character. This is one of those things the writers of this show LOVE doing to heighten tension. They think people behave like this in real life and that it’s funny to have a million competing priorities at once, so they insist on doing things like this. In reality, I would be concerned about any person who did not hear “FBI” and go, “um, what the hell is happening? I should stop trying to fuck rn.”  

Kurt starts burning papers. Is no one going to point out that maybe being on the phone (after you KNOW you’ve had NSA issues) talking about tips from powerful criminals and asking questions that are pretty clearly about document destruction... is a bad strategy?  

Dude, why are you STILL GOING after Liz clearly tells you to stop!? Do you want me to hate you?!  

Liz adds Jay to the call. He is asleep and also his hallucination from the premiere is (sadly) back. I still don’t get what they’re going for with this, so I’ll just be happy that (1) there is only one hallucination this time and (2) it’s only on screen for a minute.  

This dude is really chanting “Let me see ‘em!” at Liz while she is on a frantic work call! This is how we are introduced to him! This is not funny! If this weren’t being played for laughs/to raise the stakes by having a lot going on I would be calling this man misogynistic!

Liz remembers that Diane has full boxes of files! They spill onto the floor as she tries to hide them! Drama!  

And then the FBI arrives, so Diane asks Liz to take her 9 am with Wackner

The FBI enters, accompanied by... Nancy Crozier! Nancy is now an AUSA for some reason!

Nancy has graduated from “just a girl from Michigan” to using her pregnancy for dramatic effect. I guess she’s aged into being Patti Nyholm, or something. (I would LOVE to see Patti Nyholm show up on TGF.)  

I know the client files are top of mind for Diane, but isn’t it kind of obvious that the FBI would be there about Kurt, given that the FBI was talking to Kurt days earlier?  

9 mins in is early for credits!! (This first act flies, too—did not feel like 9 minutes.)  

I say this once an episode, but isn’t it so fun to see all the characters from season one of TGW pop up in season five of TGF?  

Liz sees her new man, Del Cooper, in reception. He’s a client. They try to be professional with each other. Liz remembers Diane’s 9 am with Wackner and asks the receptionist to tell her when he arrives. She dismissively says it’s “Some judge guy.” Wackner is, of course, already there and watching the interaction with interest. He uses this as an opportunity to “look for the restroom,” observe Liz meeting with someone else, and walk down to the associate floor.

He asks associate Leah (we’ve definitely seen her several times before) where he’s supposed to go for the staff meeting. She asks if he means the partner meeting or the associate one—he wants whichever is more interesting. She says she only knows about the associate meeting, and so he tags along.

Leah and Lucy (the associate from last week; Michael Boatman’s daughter) talk and assume that Wackner is from STR Laurie and thus in charge of the fate of their careers.  

The associate meeting is fairly small—Leah refers to it as their “daily” so I wonder if it’s more like a team meeting than a meeting of all the associates.  

The COTW is about a comedian who isn’t always PC. FakeNetflix is getting a lot of Twitter pushback.  

“Ah, so you’re worried about being cancelled,” Liz notes. “Don’t say the ‘C’ word,” Del jokes. Then he asks the firm to do a sensitivity read of the comedian’s act.

Liz asks why them. David doesn’t get why she’s asking, though obviously Liz knows he won’t be offended by her question since they have a relationship outside of work. Del thinks that RL is the right firm for this task because they are a black firm, and also because this can be an audition for the rest of their legal business.  

This seems like it is better for a PR firm or image consultant? Not a law firm? But sure.  

Diane explains the whole January 6th situation to Liz. Liz immediately understands that if Kurt is in trouble, Diane is the one representing him. Because Kurt is Kurt, I’m willing to accept the “spouses-representing-each-other" trope here. But let the record reflect that, as always on this show, it is a TERRIBLE idea to have your spouse represent you! Just pick someone outside of the firm! JUST PICK ELSBETH, KURT.

Diane asks how her 9 am went; David Lee interrupts to ask Liz why she is being so casual with Del. “David, I am on the phone,” Liz responds. I love that she doesn’t really answer him.  

Leah and Lucy try to turn the associate meeting into a showcase of how great they are; the other associates catch on quickly and all are happy to answer Wackner’s questions. He wants to understand jury trials.

Nancy’s pregnancy act does not work on Judge Farley, yet she keeps it up anyway. Court doesn’t go well for Diane, but it also doesn’t go well for Nancy.

Some of these interactions remind me a little too much of Peter’s trial at the end of TGW, like this one where Nancy goes to Diane with information about Kurt.

Leah gets off the elevator as Diane and Nancy talk, and to Diane’s surprise, Wackner is shadowing Leah! She takes a moment to look surprised before we return to the scene with Nancy.

I like all the little interactions within this Wackner plot. Diane asking Liz to meet with Wackner both connects Wackner to Liz AND shows that Diane would turn to Liz for back-up, and having Wackner/Leah run into Diane in court is a good reminder that even though Diane is dealing with a pressing issue, Wackner hasn’t just disappeared.  

Diane encourages Kurt to talk. She wants to know if he’s not telling her something because she’s his wife or because she’s his lawyer. This is maybe why you don’t hire your wife as your lawyer.  

Kurt says it’s because of politics—Diane doesn’t like that, since this is one issue where their politics should be shared.  

“Diane, this works between us because we don’t let our political judgements overwhelm our respect for each other,” Kurt explains. But... is that relevant to this particular issue?  

Diane asks the same question, essentially, noting that January 6th changed “everything” for her and she can’t treat this like a “chess game” anymore. Kurt wants to know what she’s calling a chess game. She says their marriage is the one thing that’s not a game.  

On one level I understand exactly what Diane is saying and on another level I have no clue what this dialogue actually means. She can’t treat things like a game anymore, but also their marriage is the only thing that isn’t a game? So does that mean she can treat everything else like a game, then? I think what she’s trying to say is that the time for seeing political disagreements as a calm and rational game of strategy is over, and that she values her marriage and won’t play around with it.  

Kurt tells her what he burned—a list of people in his little group. He says he’d protect them just like he’d protect Diane’s book group friends. Oh, wow, I was not EVER expecting to hear about that arc again! This is a pretty perfect time to mention it, though, since Kurt DID protect book group for the exact same reason he’s protecting the members of his club.  

Other than “winning over a new client is important,” I have no idea why Liz and David Lee would gather together a group of partners to do the sensitivity read. I don’t know who IS the appropriate person to do the sensitivity read, given that this is a law firm, but I know this is a bad call.

Oh, they are going to go through line by line dissecting each joke in a group. They get through one joke before Madeline notes that the comedian is “objectifying black men.” A black male partner says he doesn’t mind. Madeline says that doesn’t matter because the joke is racially insensitive.  

Overlapping chatter ensues, and the partners try to make changes to the comedian’s jokes, like substituting Norwegian for Nigerian. This... is not what law firms do. The joke isn’t funny with the substitution, but it also wasn’t funny before. It was low hanging fruit and the correct answer is to just cut it entirely. (Also, if you’re a comedian and all your jokes are about common stereotypes of groups to which you do not belong, you are probably not a very funny comedian!)

Diane has Jay do some more investigating. Jay looks up when Diane says, “ringleader of the insurrectionists,” and Diane is just like, “I know.” Then Carmen walks in.

Diane congratulates Carmen on “hitting the ground running” and then asks again how she knew about the warrant. Diane says she’s covered by the same attorney-client privilege, so Carmen should be able to share. Carmen notes the warrant was actually about Kurt, which does not answer Diane’s question. “So this came from Rivi?” Diane asks. Carmen says she can’t confirm.

“Carmen. You have been here three weeks. You have two clients: Wolfe-Coleman and Oscar Rivi. It’s one or the other!” Diane notes. Yep. I love that they didn’t forget that this isn’t much of a mystery. It’s more about principle than anything. If Diane knows it’s one of two sources and needs more information, I’m sure Jay can figure it out.  

Carmen knows she’s stuck, so she asks if she can make a phone call. “I think that would be smart,” Diane says.  

I’ve noticed that Liz and Diane are both being quite firm with others this season—and I like it. They're spending more time with lower-level characters, and both Diane and Liz have reasons to be more curt this year. Diane is under a lot of stress and it’s showing in all of her interactions; Liz is making a point of seeming in control to establish herself as the leader of the firm.  

Then Marissa walks in. “What is going on with your crazy court judge?” Diane asks. “My?” Marissa asks. “Marissa, I am in no mood for defensiveness,” Diane insists. She mentions Wackner missing his meeting and shadowing Leah. That’s news to Marissa.  

Marissa heads to Wackner’s court to figure out what’s going on.

Wackner is now experimenting with juries. This is interesting to me—I'd wondered before how smart it was to just have Wackner make all the rulings, so exploring the idea of having a jury shows he’s thinking about that, too. Also, it’s another sign that Wackner wants his court to have many of the same structures as a real courtroom. There are still judges, juries, witnesses, trials—he's starting something new, but it feels more like he’s testing out improvements for an imperfect system. I wonder if his end goal would be to set up separate courts, or if he’s more interested in shaping laws/reforming the system? Surely Wackner has ambitions of scaling up whatever conclusions he comes to. So what are they?  

The reason for the juries is that the associates told him that juries are racially biased, so he’s trying to correct it. He also explains how he ended up shadowing Leah, and advises Marissa to go exploring whenever she’s kept waiting. (I have a feeling Marissa doesn’t need to be told this, but then, that’s why she’s Wackner’s “muse.”)  

Marissa notes that Wackner’s court is looking nicer—there must be money coming in from somewhere new. Wackner confirms there’s been a sympathetic donor.

Wackner is dealing with a case about NFT fraud. Marissa says she doesn’t know what that is. I’m going to assume that Marissa is using Wackner’s strategies against him (she had just accused him of playing dumb to get others to talk) because I cannot believe that Marissa, who always knows random facts, ESPECIALLY ones that involve weird corners of the internet, would not know what an NFT is.  

Marissa hears the case is about $4 million, and she’s shocked because this raises the stakes a little more than even she is comfortable with. Wackner has a signed and notarized document saying that both sides will honor the verdict. It is, as Marissa points out, notarized in 9 ¾ court by Wackner about a fictional case. “About a fictional crime,” Wackner adds on.  

I’m a little surprised this is all these writers had to say about NFTs! Maybe they knew that by the time this aired, the actual topic would feel dated.  

Mandy Patinkin is just SO GOOD as Wackner! I’m watching a fictional show about a fictional crime in a fictional court and even I am starting to believe in his ludicrous court!  

Wackner’s jury selection process involves catching potential jurors in traps, like pretending to know the national anthem when they don’t. Smart. Probably super problematic if you think about it too hard and put it in the wrong people’s hands and people start to know the system. But smart, for now.  

Diane is now in the sensitivity read meeting, for reasons passing understanding. They are still talking about the first joke. Jay calls Liz out of the meeting and notes that everyone in the room is old and no one is funny. “I’m funny!” Liz argues. Diane tries to leave the meeting, and Liz tells Diane Jay’s idea about needing younger people. “Oh god yes,” Diane agrees. I’m glad she sees it and a little alarmed that Liz doesn’t! I feel like they should’ve sent the tape to everyone interested in participating, then asked them to write up (separately) anything they found questionable or offensive, and gone from there, ending with a close review of anything that wasn’t previously flagged. If you debate every single line for hours you’re going to get nowhere.

I don’t know why Liz is so concerned that Jay thinks she’s not funny? But she is.

Diane asks Liz to join her meeting with Carmen and Lester. This is a scene I’ve been waiting for! Diane and Liz are both there and so the scene FEELS important. The plot advances. And, most importantly, they address why Carmen is staying at RL!

Lester reiterates that Carmen is super important to Rivi, so if Carmen says she can’t share info, then she can’t share info. Liz and Diane do not accept this. “I am a name partner. Carmen is a first-year associate,” Liz says. “Now, Carmen is free to resign and hang her shingle wherever she’d like. She can even go and work for you. That is up to her. But while she is here, she is subject to the rules and the mentoring of this firm.”

Lester tries to take Carmen out of the meeting. Liz and Diane won’t let him: They need to know if Carmen is staying with the firm, now.  

“You have a lot to learn, Carmen. And you can only do that here,” Diane pitches. I don’t think that’s exactly true, but it’s not untrue.

Here is a question I have about Carmen: she is WILLING to represent drug dealers and rapists. Does she WANT to? She chooses RL, so I’m guessing her interests lie in big law and not in aiding criminals.  

Lester leaves, but not before saying Kurt is about to get a grand jury summons. Diane gets one too. It’s not the usual guy! Too bad.

A bigger group is now deciding on if jokes are offensive or not, and they’re doing so with paddles that are red on one side (offensive) and green on the other (funny). I’m sure this is going to go well.

The group sees the replacement jokes and they are confused. Marissa wants to see the original joke. Julius shows the room, and everyone laughs. The joke is funny—and offensive. Someone from the mail room notes that he would be the butt of this joke, but he finds it funny, so he thinks the comedian should be able to continue with her set.  

Here is where I think I fall on this: Get sensitivity reads to get ahead of any huge issues (like, don’t be Pepsi with the ad with whichever Jenner it was who solved racism). Be aware of the potential issues. Let viewers decide what is and isn’t offensive, and make informed decisions rather than arbitrary rules about what content to show. You’ll KNOW if you are indulging the tendencies of someone with a history of making the same type of problematic jokes (for example, maybe if you are reviewing something by Tina Fey and she tries to write another edgy plot where racial stereotypes are the punchline, you advise her to not do that because, I mean, why WERE there so many episodes of 30 Rock that involved blackface??). You’ll KNOW if you are giving a platform to someone who is actively trying to spread misinformation and be cruel to others. Someone’s going to be offended by everything, and it may be a huge deal and it may not be. IMO, it doesn’t really matter that I can’t make an exact set of rules about what is/isn’t smart to air. I don’t think anyone—not networks, not creators, and not audiences—would benefit from that. Lawyers might, though, for all the billable hours...

“You can’t tell a joke without offending someone,” Jay notes. I do not think this is true! Puns don’t offend anyone!  

David Lee’s counter-example to Jay’s point is Gilbert & Sullivan. Of course it is.

As always, the argument devolves into overlapping chatter. These episodes exhaust me. At least this episode has some fun with the topic of the week and seems to have more of a point of view than some of the past episodes where the only conclusion is, “Wow! Controversy is controversial!”

Marissa ends up in the mail room with Jay and one of the mailroom guys (captions say his name is Jimmy). They are mocking the partner’s ideas of comedy. Jay and Jimmy agree that the best comedy is mean. But, Jay says, now it feels like you need “a permission slip to tell a joke.” Is... this true? This feels like one of those things people who would never actually get “cancelled” worry about because their fear overtakes their ability to understand what really gets someone cancelled.  

Then again, this episode was written by professional writers who would absolutely know better than I am if people are really hesitant to tell jokes.  

Jimmy has started making literal permission slips to allow people to tell jokes about specific groups. Jay and Marissa are down.  

Jay asks Jimmy to make a card for something so inappropriate he wouldn’t joke about it... and Jimmy prints a card that says Greta Thunberg. No one wants to joke about that.

And you know why this joke lands well for me? Part of it is that the vibe of this scene is very fun and laid back. But mostly it’s because Younger tried to make a Greta Thunberg joke this season, and it was quite possibly the worst, most embarrassing thing I’ve seen a TV show do in ages. It wasn’t funny, just mean, over the top, lazy, and never-ending. (Poor Younger. That show had an awful final season.)  

Liz is still worried she’s not funny. She asks Del if she’s funny and mentions Jay’s comment. He says she’s funny, but she’s not convinced he’s being honest. He points out this is a discussion no one will win. Del ends up accidentally saying “I love you” to Liz, which is a big deal for a relationship we’ve seen for all of two seconds. Liz says they don’t have to talk about it, but Del insists on explaining that he meant “affection,” not love. I’m glad they’re talking about this.

“Then maybe we should get married,” Liz says as seriously as possible. She stares at Del and smiles. He laughs and admits that was funny. It was VERY funny!  

Grand jury time! Yet Another Ham Sandwich: The Sequel: The Musical: The Series. (Am I funny? Pls tell me I’m funny and hip with the teens!)  

It’s Diane’s turn first. She does well, but there’s not much to say when Nancy plays the recording of Diane phoning the FBI with the rioter’s name. I did not need the clip from last episode in here. Diane is calm in court, but rushes to tell Kurt immediately. Nancy predicted Diane would do that, so she calls in Kurt before Diane has a chance to warn him.

So, wait, Kurt thought all of this was just a COINCIDENCE? Diane didn’t tell him earlier?! I don’t love this choice, but okay.  

Liz finds a joke permission slip on her desk. Julius has one too. “Did you use it?” Liz asks. Julius doesn’t understand what that even means. Then they trade clothes, because Liz does want to tell a joke about white girl clothes.

Julius suspects the cards are a way to make fun of the partners for being unfunny. The associates are also chatting about the cards, having lots of fun, so it’s clearly not about the partners.

I think now is an appropriate time to mention that TGW and TGF have both been consistently hilarious shows and have been on the air for a combined twelve years. Neither rely on the types of jokes that these cards permit. This is a kind of interesting thought experiment, but... doesn’t it say something that the shows never use these jokes as crutches and still manage to be funny? This is what I meant earlier about people being afraid of cancel culture when they’re not actually really at risk of coming under fire. These writers know how to write things that are funny. They know how to make comedy out of absurdity and subverting expectations. And yet they’re worried about how to have jokes that aren’t mean? Really?

The first laugh out loud funny TGW moment that comes to mind right now is the episode that ends with that obnoxious talk show guy trying to out Diane as a lesbian. That joke deals with identity. But it still holds up 12 years later, because the joke isn’t that Diane could be gay... the joke is that Diane DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT what this pest is saying about her on TV, and so she laughs. And because the tension of the talk show guy’s BIG DRAMATIC REVEAL is cut with Diane’s dynamic, loud laugh, we laugh with her! I’m not really sure what I'm trying to illustrate with this example. I’m just noting that you can be topical, funny, and entirely appropriate at the same time... and these writers are great at finding that balance.

HR starts, like, texting (they TEXT Marissa!!!) employees about the joke permission slips? It’s so bizarrely done that I thought this was going to be a prank.  

Jay decides they won’t go to HR, and Jimmy decides they’ll delay. Why wouldn’t HR just come down and take away the cards?

For this week’s dose of Wackner Wackiness, witnesses will be fully costumed, and it goes without saying that the costumes will be as over the top as possible.

David Cord is the mysterious donor. Marissa spots him and instantly puts the pieces together. Cord explains he met Wackner on the elevator. I can’t say enough how much I like that this season has a lot of moving pieces that feel like part of a whole. Cord showed up as part of a case that caused internal debate at the firm and had a thematic parallel to an ongoing plot, then crossed over into Wackner’s plot once he was established as a character!  

Cord says he’s interested in “disrupting things” so he’s interested in Wackner. I did not need the still photo of where they founded HP that’s used to illustrate humble beginnings, I guess.

Nancy mentions Kurt’s unfortunate last name—she so would. Kurt takes the fifth. Was this thing about needing a reason to take the fifth true in the earlier seasons and just not mentioned? Didn’t Kalinda and Will use this strategy?

Nancy, obviously, plays the recording of Diane reporting the rioter. Kurt conceals his reaction for the grand jury, but he’s pissed.  

Diane tries to apologize and Kurt asks for another lawyer. This is the right move. I can’t be all that sad.

The partners have collected all the cards and are trying to do damage control with HR. (Interestingly, there are certain topics the cards we see don’t touch on. Like, where’s the rape joke card? Aren’t rape jokes what we usually talk about when we talk about comedians getting cancelled? And where are the jokes about minority groups (aside from little people, referred to using the PC name instead of the names that would probably be used in most offensive jokes about little people) not represented in the TGF cast? I find this little bit of self-censorship quite notable, especially given that the writers seem to be arguing in favor of not regulating humor. These omissions, which MUST be intentional, tell me the writers do have their own lines they won’t cross...)  

(My larger point there, and where this funny-but-unnecessary subplot fails for me, is that this whole episode feels like a bit of a panic over cancel culture and winds up being a strawman argument. I don’t disagree with the conclusions the writers come to and I do find some of these scenes funny. But at the same time, I don’t think Cancel Culture is actually about coming after every single joke that makes fun of any person or group (if we must do a cancel culture plot, why not do one about someone who is an odious person and yet still has a following even after they’ve been “cancelled”). And I don’t think that showing HR as a very stern, strict, humorless body is helpful. I’m getting ahead of myself, but all that accomplishes is having Liz win on a point that pretty much everyone can agree on, because no one is actually as humorless as STRL’s HR department! Humor has so many gray areas and if you try to make it black and white, obviously the side that’s saying YOU CANNOT MAKE JOKES ABOUT ANYTHING is going to be the one that is wrong.  

I did just remember that all of these writers have probably dealt with unfun and strict standards & practices departments, and I like the way HR is portrayed more if I try to imagine them as Standards & Practices.

Liz decides she is going to see HR so she’s seen as an authority figure, not someone subversive. But first, Liz has to meet with Del and the comedian.

Wackner and Cord are in Diane’s office. Diane’s skeptical of their alliance. She also points out that it is corrupt for Wackner to be financed by Cord and decide on Cord’s cases. This is true. Cord says he has no vested interest in any of the cases. And Wackner says he’s the “most untouchable man on earth” and quotes a song again. Yet another example of how this court only works if Wackner is in charge.

The comedy meeting does not go well. David Lee is already trying to pitch their other servicces. The comedian finds the censored version hilarious in how terrible it is, and then she starts making fun of it, loudly, and for way too long.  

David thinks it went poorly; Liz isn’t concerned. David is all, “you failed” and Liz asks him to cool it and notes that David isn’t the highest-ranking person at STRL, so he should “stop the shit” and work with her. She’s already sounding more like a boss.  

Julius complements her on being “Boseman-like,” which is true (though I wish she didn’t need to be compared to her ex-husband). “I know,” Liz says quietly, likely because she hates that Adrian is still influencing her this much.  

Del joins Wackner and Cord in the elevator, and this isn’t the end of the episode but I’m going to pretend it is so all the episodes can end on elevators this year. It’s close enough.

Kurt’s new lawyer is Julius. Ah, yes, choose the corrupt judge Trump pardoned who works at your wife’s firm to represent you. Seems smart.  

Liz walks past Diane’s office and the camera follows her up to HR. She tries to get HR to understand humor. They do not. And that’s the episode.

So, a few thoughts to conclude. First, I went into this recap thinking I’d have a lot more to say about cancel culture and the way this episode handled the debate. But I ended up liking this plot—and this episode-- more the second time around. I still don’t think this episode said anything groundbreaking about cancel culture, because I don’t think it actually engaged with the topic beyond the surface. As I noted earlier, coming to the conclusion that jokes should be allowed because we’re all human isn’t really a resolution the real topic. What about accountability? What about allowing for some jokes to be too far without taking the teeth out of every joke? What about the way people panic over cancel culture when they’re not being canceled (this episode felt a little bit like a panic over cancel culture, which is why I reacted negatively to it the first time through) or about how cancellation doesn’t always stick or have meaning? There is SOMETHING to explore here, but I don’t think this episode found that something.  

Second, because I didn’t find a way to work it in above... is it me, or is it actually HELPING the show to not have Adrian or Lucca around!? This season feels so much more focused than the past several, and I think it might be because the writers (who are, as always, very good at adapting to curveballs) had to restructure the show. Lucca always had her own subplots that were separate from everything else, and Adrian’s charisma tended to overpower others’ presence (especially Liz’s) whenever he was in the room. It didn’t help that the writers seemed to LOVE writing Adrian plots, even if it meant neglecting others.  

Don’t get me wrong—I love Adrian and Lucca both. But there’s something to be said for a tighter show with three main interconnected pieces (Liz/firm drama, Diane/FBI and Kurt, Marissa/Wackner’s court) that carry over from episode to episode. Like the titles of the season, these episodes build on each other.  

Also, there’s the right amount of every character this season. David Lee is used sparingly; Jay and Julius are supporting players who sometimes get the spotlight; Wackner is a huge presence but his plot feels like part of the show; Carmen feels important but isn’t being given screentime for the sake of screentime; Liz is finally the type of lead she should’ve been from the start; Marissa has nicely grown into a role closer to leading than supporting; Diane remains a clear lead.  

5x05 next week!!! I am expecting some Hitting the Fan level quality and at least one fan-service-y reference. (Not really, but wouldn’t it be fun?)  

[anotheronechicagobog]

Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

requested by @confusedpimp​, I hope you like it!

warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence

A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.

In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.   

“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”

They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”

‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”

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Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.

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The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”

“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”

“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”

“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”

“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a  Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.

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Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”

“Please, call me Jay.”

“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”

“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”

“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”

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You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next. 

You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”

“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“All three.”

“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO YEARS LATER

Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.

The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”

“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”

“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”

“Where did you get accepted?!”

“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”

“Well I’m here now, so open them!” 

“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”

“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.” 

“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”

“In a decent apartment this time.”

“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”

“So that leaves Chicago...”

“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”

“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”

“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”

“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“

“Let’s gooooooooooo!”

——————————————————————————————————-

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”

“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“

“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”

“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”

“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”

—————————————————————————————————

“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”

“Your brother is a prick.”

“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”

“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”

“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”

“Vietnamese is on the way.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”

“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.

You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.

Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”

“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or  Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”

“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.

Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible. 

You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”

“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”

“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”

“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Asher-”

“You took everything from me!”

“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”

“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”

“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”

“Jay?”

“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”

“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”

“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”

“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”

“You are officially my favourite patient.”

“And I love you even more.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”

“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”

“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”

“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”

“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ONE YEAR LATER

The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”

“That’s seven minutes apart.”

“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”

“Objection your honour!”

“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”

[macchiatooru]

ᴬⁿ ᵃˡˡ⁻ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ³ʳᵈ ᵍʸᵐ ˢqᵘᵃᵈ?

With Kenma? And Lev and Hinata? Absolute College AU vibes? Despite my doubts about the productivity, I definitely need this. It’s around 1AM as I type, and I literally have three papers to finish, with one due tomorrow. HAHAHAHAHA. (I wrote this note last night, so it’s not entirely applicable now, but well- I have to submit the second tomorrow and the third the following day... I hope HAHAHA)

Note: If you’re also up at such ungodly hours and want to add to this when you’re stuck with a paper too, or a lesson, or something, go ahead! If you want to modify something, don’t hesitate to say it!

The situation, for example, is that you’re writing a paper, and you don’t know how to continue it anymore. Luckily, you have enough options to kill the time until your brain is working properly again. The apartment―whoever owns it, maybe you guys were sharing or had connecting ones or were neighbors or whatnot―would literally look like, I don’t know, a convention? It’s like there are different stalls with different activities. Take your pick!

Tsukishima’s Corner:

I can imagine that he has this set-up in the far end of the living room where he has a table against the wall and a chair with a blanket on it

And he always has a drink with him, whether it’s a soda or an Iced Americano. (that just gave me Yoongi vibes ahhh my heart)

Of course, he has his headphones on. Not surprising.

He’s pretty calm when he does his schoolwork, and his focus is just wow

So, don’t expect him to pay attention to you that much. Again, not surprising.

If you have an actual question though, I think you can ask him!

He’ll help you out, but be wary of the sass and teasing.

It’s highly possible for him to annoy the shit out of you before you guys solve the problem, btw.

If you have chips with you, he’ll take some without asking permission smh but he’s so idufhsdbkfhda can you really say no?

You can get back at him by repetitively calling him “Tsukki”.

“Cut it out.”

“No can do, Tsu~ Kki!”

Emphasize! the! syllables! because he probably lowkey thinks it’s kinda cute

Unless he doesn’t and he throws the blanket at your face to shut you up

Don’t annoy him when he’s in a bad mood, okay?

He’ll really appreciate it if you give him space on those days

But he’ll also appreciate it so so so much if you’re the one who hands him his usual drink.

Despite being the person who could really rile you up the most

He’s actually nice... in his own way!

Lev and Hinata’s “Quiet” Pile of Pillows:

What am I even saying?

There’s nothing quiet about that part of the living room.

Lev and Hinata like studying in their “own kind of comfort”

And that is with their “study” blankets―they have separate ones for sleeping―on the floor and their pillows on top.

They study with the TV on

A series on Netflix is playing the entire time.

Nobody minds, really, because for some reason, most of you can study with some noise in the background. Those who can’t, however, just listen to music on their own.

They have hot or iced chocolate―depends on their mood―made either by you, Akaashi, or Kuroo.

You never asked Bokuto to do it again. Never again.

One time, he made the mistake of giving the “kids” coffee, and well, was that some night.

Lev and Hinata have common classes, so they work on some of their assignments together.

Expect them to be very excited when they get something right and very frustrated when they can’t understand what they’re doing.

Probably just a spot for you to take a quick break, maybe lie your head down on Lev’s favorite pillow to annoy him.

It’s not because he doesn’t want to share, but because you just took it right out of his lap.

They’ll be really happy kiddos if you join them! Please give these babies the attention they need.

Also, it helps to give them snacks to shut them up.

Bokuto’s Spot on the Couch:

That became his permanent spot after Akaashi sent him there because of that one time that big baby reaaally got on his nerves.

He has a pillow supporting his back as he leans against an armrest, legs stretched out in front of him and laptop on his, well, lap. HAHAHA sorry

He also likes working with the TV on, so it was a suitable place for him.

Bokuto’s drink would either be a can of soda or a protein shake.

Keep your phone on standby.

You have to take a pic of the pouty face he makes when he doesn’t get something.

He’s so cute he can have my heart-

“Akaashiiiii~ Why won’t you help me out?”

Akaashi would remind him that not only was he a year higher, but he also had a different major.

*cue Bo’s emo mode with matching droopy hair fml he’s literally so cute*

He gets distracted easily because he never puts his phone on silent

Probably chats with Konoha idk

Or gets carried away watching game highlights.

He already startled all of you a few times.

“OOOOOOOOOOOH. DAAAAAAAAAAAMN. THAT WAS SO GOOD.”

“Bokuto-san-”

If you choose to go to him, he can’t really help you with the paper you’re writing.

However, he gives THE BESTEST HUGS!

I think a lot of us agree that he’s a walking heater, so getting a hug from that beefy boi? Especially when it’s cold?

H E A V E N

Or that’s just me being biased, but is it really just me?

I love him.

Kuroo’s Kitchen Kounter:

Now, I’m definitely sure I’m being biased because- I mean- JUST-

One of the kitchen counters faces the common living area where everyone is spread out.

Imagine walking from wherever you were previously just staring at your laptop with that constant 132 words plastered on the corner of the screen and you’re well-aware that it has to be 2000 by tomorrow

And seeing business-related major Kuroo, sitting on a stool, immersed in his work, Excel sheets and documents being the only inhabitants of his laptop screen?

I’m literally giving myself away I-

He has glasses on and he’s tapping the end of his pen on his chin and at this point I’m hyperventilating

THE FACE HE MAKES WHEN HE CONCENTRATES

From time to time, he would swivel the stool around, take a sip of the black iced coffee he always brews at night, and eat whatever snack was available (e.g. chips, popcorn, sandwiches, instant noodles, sometimes asks Bokuto to make another protein shake, etc.)

He doesn’t really listen to music and can easily drown out the noise on his own because he concentrates so much.

You can always count on him to entertain you

Because despite the amount of focus he puts into his homework and problem sets, he also wants any excuse to tear his eyes of his screen.

He’s good at papers, so he can help you with that in the best way he can

Also asks if you would like to take a break and grab a snack with him

And can be a flirt if he’s in the mood, but when he’s tired, he has a soft and sleepy smile (except he’s not really sleepy because of the coffee, he’s just not putting that much effort)

Although he will annoy and provoke you while the two of you are on break

He’s the best person to cry to when you’re really stressed out.

I want him.

Akaashi’s Atelier:

He literally owns the dining table, his work neatly spread out.

I can almost imagine him studying architecture

But nah I guess he just really likes practicing how to capture anything and everything he can observe

And by capturing, I really mean that there’s a pile of photos there somewhere.

Afterwards, he draws them, paying attention to every detail.

He finishes schoolwork before any of you do.

His concentration surpasses that of Kuroo’s, no joke.

You can’t disturb him when he’s working on his academic requirements, so come back later when he’s sketching the hours away.

If you want to do your paper beside him though? Go.

His concentration is not only top tier but also contagious.

He’ll share the dining table, but only to you and, occasionally, Kuroo.

Bokuto? Only if he’s super emo.

Akaashi’s really nice!

He’ll initiate a conversation with you if you’re taking a break and he’s just on his sketchbook or experimenting with graphic design or something.

If you want to see a passionate but shy Akaashi, ask him what he’s working on.

I just know his eyes will literally light up.

He might be drinking tea, mint tea?

Water most of the time, but he always smells like mint and fresh laundry ahhh be still, my heart

Go to him if you really want to be productive and not get distracted by anything else because his eyes and the way he’s so into what he’s doing might actually be what distracts you

He is the epitome of grace under pressure, such a beautiful human being ha ha ha I wish

Kenma’s Den:

Well, what did you really expect?

Nah, kidding.

Kenma’s the only one in his room because he’s probably streaming.

His audience is mostly up at night, so yeah.

He definitely has ramen, chips, and soda

Which he’s willing to share with you as long as you don’t mess his game up don’t try I swear

Tbh, it’s actually really comforting to stay in his room especially when you’re really stressed out.

You can rest your eyes and take a quick nap.

He knows that he should wake you up after fifteen minutes, so don’t worry about sleeping through the night without finishing your paper.

He’s so sweet please

It’s so comforting to hear his fingers tapping away, a literal lullaby that gets you every time.

At some point, some people probably caught you slipping under his duvet IT WAS YOUR FIRST LOWKEY SCANDAL HAHAHAHAHA

Which lasted for just an hour because Kenma’s viewers knew him enough to know what his facial expressions meant

He definitely can’t help you with your paper. Such a busy boi.

But if he’s in the lobby that’s what you call it, right? of whatever game he’s playing, he’s willing to listen to your rants.

A quiet listener, but you know that he genuinely cares about you.

Massage his shoulders if you can! He likes that.

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

background photo by NeONBRAND on unsplash

[rachelthompsonauthor]

What is social proof? It’s a marketing concept that we are all inadvertently, unknowingly contributing to every time we click on, retweet, like, reply or comment, and share any kind of social media, article, or blog post on the net. Technically, social proof, as defined by Sprout Social is:

The concept that people will follow the actions of the masses. The idea is that since so many other people behave in a certain way, it must be the correct behavior.

Social Proof and Me

As an author, social media is a hugely important part of my author platform, as it is for any writer or blogger. This is how we connect with readers now, even before the pandemic. Virtual, online events are now the norm. Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube Live video discussions are the new book signings. Twitter chats are weekly on any number of topics; I have two of my own, in fact, #SexAbuseChat every Tuesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est and #BookMarketingChat every Wednesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est.

All important for visibility, branding, and most importantly, connection.

However…there’s a limit. I reached my limit over the course of this past year. It didn’t come all at once. It came, little by little, reaching a peak this past month or so.

Why? How? Me, the so-called social media expert?

Access. Like many people, I have issues with the incredible level of access Facebook gives people once we friend them without our consent. PMs (private messages) are automatic, now with the ability for people to call, voice, and video message us, with no option to shut these options to OFF unless we unfriend the person (we can, however, mute a specific conversation). Technically, we do give them consent in the legal mumbo jumbo we all agreed to when we joined back in the 2010s.

I am not okay with this. And Facebook doesn’t care. Nobody cares. You’re probably thinking, “Geez, Karen. Shut up, already. Stop your whining, white lady.” I get it. I do. First-world problems.

I counter with: I hear you. It’s also part of my business. A huge part. Here’s why:

As someone who manages over 70+ various social media accounts as part of my BadRedhead Media business, plus my own accounts as well, Facebook requires I have a personal account in order to manage all those other Pages. I do understand why, particularly with all the ridiculousness of the past four years with the abundance of fake accounts, fake news, and such.

As a survivor of sexual abuse and stalking, this is ultra-concerning to me. So, what happened this past month or so? Suffice it to say, one person repeatedly tried calling me. I never pick up Facebook calls, especially if I don’t know you. Another left me a few voice messages saying they were offended by something.

Yet another left me another message in ALL SHOUTY CAPS that she didn’t find what I posted inspirational enough and she expected better from someone who is “supposedly on the side of authors.”

Oh, and there is the one lady who started replying on ALL my posts to the kind people who did comment that she didn’t think I replied often enough or to her satisfaction.

Well. I’ve been criticized before. You should read some of my 1-star reviews. There’s plenty!

But, for whatever reason, this struck a chord. I got up in my feels. I cried. I talked with one of them and we worked it out because we like and respect each other’s work in the mental health space. The others I blocked. It’s darn frustrating to donate hours of my time each week to helping writers solely because I want to, only to be told it’s not enough. Like, seriously? Fuck off.

My blood raged. My heart sank. Understandable, right?

But what really made me angry is that I put myself in that position by being available. I accepted that ‘it is what it is.’ This is what the social media platforms have given us, so that’s what I have to work within.

I’m too available. It’s too easy to leave me shitty messages. This is why people hire people like me – to handle this crap for them! So they don’t have to read these ridiculous criticisms from judgy people who apparently have nothing better to do or are having a bad day.

And I get bad days. It’s a damn pandemic. We’re all struggling. Where’s the damn compassion for one another?

I have a dislike/hate relationship with Facebook anyway, since about ten or so years ago when I discovered that a past love had died by suicide by going to his personal profile and seeing, “RIP dude,” messages there. We had spoken early that day. It still haunts me.

So…what to do? I’m claiming my time. I’m not posting to my personal Facebook profile right now. I’m ignoring it. I am checking my Pages and of course, my client Pages. When I feel like I can face it again, I will cull my ‘friends’ down from *checks real quick* 4385 people to maybe, I don’t know, the few hundred in my groups, many of whom I do know and treasure.

Social Proof and You

If you’re a writer, social proof matters. This is the world we live in. Publishing is not only writing.

You need to be ‘findable,’ not only on Google, but also on each individual social platform, so your readers can learn more about you and hopefully, buy your books. If you go the traditional route, publishers and agents want to know how many followers you have (easily upped by buying fake followers or likes from Fiverr or wherever). I suggest not doing that, because:

1) fake followers don’t buy books 

2) it’s usually pretty obvious when you have fake followers because they’re all foreign names, have questionable bios, and no tweets

3) do you really want to start your publishing career with a lie? 

They also want to know what you post, how often, and what your branding is. If you’re an indie author, honestly, the same applies. Social proof is about connection, building relationships, and authenticity. I’ve believed that since I started my business and writing career way back in 2011, and I stand by it now. Start slow, grow slow. It’s not a race.

I’m the furthest thing you’ll even find from a conspiracy theorist – I don’t believe in chemtrails, pizza parlor cabals, or that the earth is flat. However, I am a realist. Watch The Social Dilemma sometime. These huge tech companies share our data without our knowledge or consent (Cambridge Analytics, anyone?). Younger generations are so used to this, they don’t really care – ask them.

(My kids think having a chip implanted in their hands with all their data is a fabulous idea. “So much easier than having to talk and repeat everything over and over. Just scan me and be done with it,” says my daughter Anya (21). “Agree,” grunts my son, Lukas (15). Buy stuff, go to the doctor, whatever. Scan and go. Talk with any GenZ kid, you’ll likely get a similar answer. They’ve been tracked since birth everywhere. They don’t know life without a computer, tablet, or phone in their hands.)

Know that whatever we do, it’s all part of each platforms’ AI, and they share data, which is why that darling pair of shoes you just saw on Amazon is now showing up on Google, Facebook, Twitter, and every website you visit going forward. It’s all about the money, and they all get a piece of that affiliate link.

Every bit of every click is recorded, even when you’re watching videos on YouTube, or a subscription service like Netflix, or perusing goods on Amazon. It’s all connected. I’m not shocked or surprised by any of this, are you?

It’s Not Personal

What people say to us and about us is ultimately incredibly revealing about them. We know this, at an intellectual, psychological, and emotional level. Still, when people say mean things, it hurts. We’re human.

Does it matter in the overall scope of our lives? Who can say. It matters at that moment. It can matter when it comes to overall visibility when you’re marketing your book(s) or trying to get that book contract or interview. Only you can say if it matters to you.

Already a longtime fan of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS by Don Miguel Ruiz, I took a moment to reorient myself with this one agreement: Don’t take anything personally. I also stumbled across an excellent short and entertaining TEDTalk by Frederick Imbo. His main message to stop taking things personally is two-fold;

It’s not about me. Look at the other person’s intention and

It IS about me. Give yourself some empathy. Speak up. Ask questions. Pay attention to how you feel and be vulnerable with your needs.

I’m glad I was able to, inadvertently, employ point #2 and work out some issues with one of the people by telling him what he said made me cry. He apologized. I apologized. We talked it through and we’re still friends.

Ultimately, social media is what we contribute to it. What we make it. How much we allow of it into our lives. Social proof is going along with the tide. I’ve been in this space since 2008. Being connected to others is a big part of the work I do to help and support not only other writers, but also other childhood sexual abuse survivors. However, I’ve reached that point. I knew it was coming.

I’m not shutting my doors. I’m just adding a screen. With a strong lock.

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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via Rachel Thompson

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

get to know me tag

I was tagged by @ammocharis! thank you! :)

answer questions / tag blogs, u know the drill :)

nickname: Jade

gender: [dial-up internet noise] but she/her pronouns are fine

height: p much everyone I meet (online OR in person) assumes I am taller than I actually am, which is intentional. 

time(zone): its mountain time baby

song stuck in my head: the Orpheus & Eurydice song from the Hades soundtrack because my friend sent me a post about Orpheus 

last movie: Wolfwalkers!!!!!! It was so beautiful and charming. I recommend every movie Cartoon Saloon puts out this one included!

last show: some netflix competition show about glassblowing, as background noise while working. I’ve watched a lot of that sort of thing lately because I’ve been too busy to really devote my attention to anything :(

when did you create this blog: hm, I don’t actually know how to look that up. Sometime in 2016 after I’d been obsessed with DA:I for a while and decided it was enough content to merit its own sideblog off my main account. I would guess maybe March? 

what do I post: most of my Bioware reblogs go over here now, both Dragon Age and Mass Effect :) plus my original fanric, fanart, and bioware-themed crafting! Also some general writing advice/memes/etc since this is the account I interact with more fanwriters through. My non-fandom art, writing, and crafts go onto my main blog, @songofsaraneth!

last thing googled: “kinds of fruit spiky” becuase I was trying to remember the name of a new weird fruit I have eaten. My 2021 resolution is a continuation of my 2020 resolution, which is to eat more strange fruits! As in if I go to the grocery store, and there is a fruit for sale I have never tried before or not eaten in a long time, I buy one and sample it :) The fruit in question for this googling btw was “rambutan”! It was good, pretty sweet and sort of like a juicy gummy in texture. 

do I get asks: every now and then I get a fit of inspiration and reblog a bunch of prompt lists in a row, and then when people actually send them and I look in my inbox, I go “Hmmmm” and vanish for a week becuase writing is hard. so sorry if you have ever sent me a prompt, i promise you i made a word document with the prompt copied and pasted into it before i got moody and went out for a hike instead. No one wants to know what the inside of my WIP folder looks like...

why I chose my url: I was just desperately searching for any DA/Solas related url that wasn’t already claimed, at the height of the DAI fandom heyday. I’m sure many are free now.

following: 503... and so many dead

followers: 648 it looks like

average hours of sleep: depends on how early I have to be awake the following day. If I have no obligations I’ll sleep for ~7 hours or so. But if I do then usually less since I’m fairly nocturnal and it’s really hard for me to fall asleep. I’d guess 5-7 on average, but sometimes with bad nights of only 3-4.

instruments: I spent the last several years learning Taiko Drumming from an amazing group of older women in the town I lived in. I was heartbroken to move and no longer be able to drum last summer. I could still practice on my own just with the motions/no drum, but losing the group energy element of it really makes me too sad to do so. I also grew up playing classical flute from grade school through the start of college, and once in college transitioned a bit to tin whistle instead. I’ve collected a variety of flutes/whistles/piccolos over the years in different styles but am not good about playing them on my own.

dream job: literal dragon, but i’d settle for mermaid astronaut

dream trip: I’ve been recently obsessed with Greenland. Also, anywhere tropical. 

last book I read: I’m currently almost done with of A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner

favorite food: cheese... like a really nice charcuterie board with a nice variety of cheeses + cured meats + jams + fruit + crackers. though Charis’ answer for this was homemade pizza and oh boy am I craving that now

nationality: All 4 of my grandparents were 1st generation americans! So I’m a mix of Lithuanian, Irish, Italian, and the other 1/4 is a German/Belgian/European mystery 

favorite song: gosh so many. I’ve recently been in a country/country-gothic/folk/folk-rock mood because of a D&D game I’m a part of, so here’s a link to the playlist for my character that fits that vibe

top three fictional universes: hmmm i’m going to go with besides the obvious DA/ME universes (which I love to play in even if i wouldn’t want to live in them)... so I’ll pick Middle Earth, Star Trek, and Animorphs :)

i will tag: @nug-juggler  @raposabranca  @thebookworm0001  @m-m-m-myysurana ohhhhhh thats all my brain will give me off the top of my head right now but everyone feel free to play along & tag me :)

[aquaticalay]

Siren .Chapter Four.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes fancies you, a singer who performs at a local bar every Monday and Friday night. After a few months of attending your gigs, Bucky finally got the chance to talk to you. One problem: you are New York's sonic screaming vigilante. And the avengers have been trying to figure out who you are for months. (Post-Endgame)

Warning/s for this chapter : cursing, a teeny tiny bit of violence

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, eventual smut (which you can skip)

Word count: 1500+ 

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel characters.

Note: I'm a day late, I know :') and I'm sorry. I didn't have any connection last night, but here ya goooo

I will post a new chapter every two days. Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

You didn't remember a time where you would stay up late texting. It seemed a little too cliche, like what a teenager would do in some cheesy romantic comedy on netflix. You didn't think you would ever do it, but here you are, almost midnight, texting with a man who was supposedly trying to arrest you. You talked and talked for hours, and neither of you were willing to stop the conversation. At first you didn't have the heart to, but you were just enjoying the time.

You found yourself chuckling at the fact that one of the world's mightiest heroes was such a modern hopeless romantic. You didn't even expect him to be able to text. He was a century year old man, after all.

'Anyway, when's your next gig?'

You read a bubble of text pop up.

'The day after tomorrow,' you typed mindlessly, and sent it before you could process what you did.

Your heart dropped. Shit, you thought to yourself. Shit! He wasn't supposed to know! 

A million scenarios ran through your mind. What if you had to put on the suit, what if you had to be the Siren while he was in close proximity. What if you have a mission tomorrow night? And if your friends saw who came, the would freak. If they saw him, and if they knew you were the one who told him where you'd be, they would kill you. Well, maybe not literally, but you'd never hear the end of it. Besides, you were putting your mission, and your identity as a vigilante at risk.

Before you could unsend it, he already saw it.

'May I know where?' He texted.

'No,' you replied bluntly. It wasn't intentional, just instinctual.

Great, now you just sound like an asshole. Paranoia hit again. What if, by not telling him where your gig is, he becomes more suspicious of your identity?

'You're a spy right? Why don't you take a guess?' You texted back quickly, deciding that teasing was the most natural of playing it off like it was no big deal. Besides, wasn't playing 'hard-to-get' fairly common nowadays?

"Oh, so that's how it is?' Bucky texted back playfully.

Soon after, you ended the conversation, deciding you needed sleep. You've been a little out of focus lately. You needed rest, and perhaps tomorrow you could be more level-headed to think, unlike the whirlwind your mind has been going through today.

-

The next day, you woke up at eight. That was considered a good night's sleep, since you usually wake up at the break of dawn. You would've woken up even later if it wasn't for Lando, who called you to let you know of a mission.

"I found the buyer, the person who bought the vox formula," he told you, "He'll be out of his apartment in Brooklyn tonight. You can break in and try to find the formula."

Breaking and entering, huh? How fun. 

You agreed, and set up a meeting in your Brooklyn safehouse.

At dusk, Lando was briefing you on the target apartment blueprint, while Luna and Vince prepared you arsenal of knives. 

Knives might seem shallow for a couple of genius weapon engineers like Luna and Vince, but you knew that these knives were made for precision and to perfection. They've calculated the curvature of the blade, aerodynamics, as well as the friction. Every inch of those knives were a product of mathematical precision and excellence.

After Lando was done briefing you, you took the knives and sheathed them. There were three in total, two on the sides of your thighs were throwing knives, while the one strapped on your belt was a dagger, used for combat.

You put on your hood and jump out the window and to the roof of the five-story apartment building.

The target's apartment wasn't far away, actually, just a block away. You were lucky the only light source was a small crescent moon, or else it would've cast an alarming shadow.

You opened the standard window lock by sliding your dagger through the gap at the bottom. Easily, you slid inside. There was a small bedside lamp in his otherwise dark bedroom. You decided not to turn any more lights as it might be noticeable from the outside. 

It was a small one bedroom apartment.

Wandering about in the space, you didn't find much personal belongings that might give away the identity of the person living there. There were no wallets or documents, not even photos in frames. The kitchen didn't have any knives or forks, just a few spoons. The pans and the stove looks brand new and unused. The TV wasn't even plugged in. The only thing that seemed functional was a computer that was built into a desk, situated in the very far corner of the room.

Focus. You're here for the formula, not for anything else.

You didn't see anything out in the open, so you checked under furniture. You checked for creaks on the floor board or inconsistencies in the drywall, in case this person had a secret concealment. You still found nothing.

"I can't find anything," you told Lando through the earpiece. 

"Have you checked the floor? Walls?" You heard him. "Yeah, nothing," you replied with absolute certainty.

"Well, what do you see?" 

"Literally, nothing," you emphasize, sighing in frustration, "there's not a lot of interesting things. All I see that might have any information at all is a computer."

"A computer?" Lando asked, an idea in his head, "Do you still have the microchip in your pocket, from last week's mission?" He asked.

"No, I don't think—" you started to reply, checking your back pocket, but stopped talking when you felt something there. You fished it out, and sure enough, the microchip was there. "Got it," you reported to him.

"Great," Lando sighed in relief, "Insert it in the computer, and I'll walk you through it."

You complied to his words, taking as much information as you can from the device.

-

"Hey, Buck," Sam urgently called, storming into the gym. Bucky was in the middle of a work out. He stopped the treadmill and gave Sam an inquisitive look. 

"I just got a report," Sam told him, "Some lady in Brooklyn saw a hooded person break into the apartment next to hers."

Bucky's eyes widened, "Is it the siren?"

"Looks like it," Sam confirmed.

"Send me the coordinates now," Bucky demanded, running out of the room to change into his suit.

-

You had successfully transferred all the data into the microchip. You didn't waste any time getting out. 

You returned to the safe house, giving Lando the microchip to decipher. You soon changed, and told your friends you were going home. You stuffed your suit inside a large backpack, and started walking to the nearest subway station.

-

When Bucky got to the exact address, he was certain that the Siren had already left. There was almost no traces of breaking and entering, except for the open window, and the broken lock on it. 

"Shit," he cursed. He was too late. Had he been here earlier, he would've caught the person who had been able to break a super soldier body with a scream. 

He decided to scout around the block. He could look for more clues. Besides, if the siren had been here, they can't have gone too far.

As he was walking around the block, he heard footsteps coming from around the corner. It didn't sound like the person running, but it sounded fast— like the person was in a rush. In panic, maybe.

He took a dagger out, preparing to strike. He had his back up against the wall.

As the footsteps approached, he thrusted the dagger away from his hand, and on to the person approaching. He did not strike to kill, but instead to assert a warning. The dagger was placed just inches in front of the person's throat. And it was… 

"(Y/n)?" He asked, making sure if he was seeing right. 

"Hi?" You managed to say, nervously smiling.

"What are you doing in Brooklyn?" He asked, pulling the dagger away.

You had one second to think of a lie.

"I… just got back from a record store a few blocks down," you decided to say. You looked up and down, and it was clear that he was wearing his combat gear.

What was he…

Then, the realization hit you like a truck.

Someone must've seen you enter the apartment. Someone must've called the Avengers.

"You look like you're busy catching bad guys here," you slightly teased him, trying to ease the growing tension.

He scratched the back of his neck, "Uh, yeah."

What are you doing? Bucky thought to himself, stop getting distracted! 

"Well, I better not interfere," you faked a chuckle, "and I better get home. It's late. See you around?"

"Yeah, of course," Bucky breathed out, and you continued on your journey. You didn't look back.

As Bucky watched you walking further down the street, he could've sworn he saw a knife sheath hanging around your hips.

He shook his head off the thought. He must be imagining things.

Stop getting distracted, dammit! He scolded himself.

-

@thejourneyneverendsx @ispepeagain @magykal-777 @sfxsucker @moli1497 @justanothergirlwithdemons @ciochesono @allonszassbutt @hennessy0274-blog @chubby-dumplin @talk-geek-to-me @sebastian-i-stan @iwishthatiwasbuckysgirl @thelureabove @womanontheedgeofnothing @snugglemedaddy @perrythefrickinplatypus @missursulacalmet @angryknightstatesmantrash @tintinnabulary

[irarelypostanything]

The State of Technology Today

In old science fiction, they described the Internet (even before the Internet was invented) as a landscape you would plug into and get a rush from - my favorite book on the subject is Neuromancer.  Maybe you’d plug something into your brain, and then there would be so much information that you would get high on it.

The Internet now is really not that far off from the science fiction fantasy, it’s just more integrated with reality.  You go on the phone while waiting for the bus, and you’re there.  You record something happening now onto your Facebook live, and you’re there.  It’s not quite so interesting to talk about cyberspace as a literal space because we don’t fade to black and transfer our consciousness to the net, like we would in this fantasy, but in a sense the brain does similar things.  Inside the net, our minds go into a different mode of thinking.  We quickly open links, instead of linearly processing information like we would while reading a book.  We see things differently...people become a front-facing entity we can interact with, and a backend we don’t see.

I wish I could refer to this imaginary cyber universe as The Matrix, but unfortunately someone already copyrighted that term.  I’m just going to keep calling it FIGNATIA (Facebook, Instagram, Google, Netflix, Apple, TikTok, Intel, Amazon) until it catches on.  Even when it doesn’t, I’m going to keep calling it that.

FIGNATIA is the world we enter when we turn on anything that gets us into the net.  FIGNATIA is accessible on a phone, a laptop, even a Kindle.  And FIGNATIA, in this day and age, is where most of us choose to spend most of our waking moments.

Is it bad?  I don’t think so, but there’s certainly something a little bit terrifying about it.  In this imagined world, we have a separate entity that’s like us, but not us.  It’s a series of attributes, the presence we create every time we like, share, write, or post something.  We’re creating a persona for ourselves, and even when we project it via a conference video or a picture, it’s still not REALLY us.  It’s as authentic as we can make it, but it’s still just far enough from real to serve as something of a mockup.

View Facebook in developer mode, and you can see the JSON-like attribute structure that makes up every person.  Hit “view source” on a website, and you can see portions of the frontend code that render a website.  Unless you’re an app developer or a data scientist, you’re not going to get much out of this except the ability to to remember passwords you forgot and bypass certain payment walls (or, in my case, briefly pretend I’m Neo in The Matrix)...but as a metaphor, I find it interesting.

Many of these things, like software objects or whatever the f*** it is JavaScript decided to use, have an outward-facing component.  That’s our world - it’s an image that makes comments, a username we talk to, a bunch of pictures.  Underneath that, in the background, are all the many pieces of related information that develop as we go about our lives in FIGNITIA.  They have metadata.  They don’t just track what we post, they track the locations, the times, the many other related pieces of data.  With this information at their disposal, FIGNITIA attempts to predict the future by influencing it - it determines what we’re likely to want next, how long we want it for, where we’re going.

And someone like me will act like we’re above all this by seemingly making nothing secret, and by sharing thoughts like this with the world...security by obfuscation, we might say...no one can find anything on me if they have to navigate through a deluge.  But then tracking tools exist.  Run Tumblr through some tools that leverage the API, and you can tease out specific details.  In the same way, websites that cannot seem to be shut down exist that scrape addresses, simply by using associated information.

I think.  I never figured out how some of these tools work, and why they’re legal.

FIGNITIA exists in a feedback loop.  We compete for approval, for attention, and the data this provides is enough to make a person feel high.  Briefly.  The amount of pleasure created is so brief, and so fleeting, that we keep finding ourselves drawn back.

And, again...nothing is wrong with this.  But it’s not reality.  What I write here is still coming from me, but it’s not EXACTLY the cadence of how I interact in real life.  The picture I post may be as close a representation of reality as modern technology can create, but it’s still not QUITE real.  Recording serves as a way to document history, but at what point do we record excessively?  At what point do we find ourselves traveling to landmarks for the pictures, instead of to behold the view?

Reality, in that sense, can quickly feel more like a recording effort than like a series of experiences to enjoy, or at least to live through.  The problem with this virtual reality isn’t that it’s bad or overly addictive, but that it seems so close to reality that the two images become immistable.  

We all have the ability to unplug, at any moment we want to, and that’s why there’s nothing inherently bad about the software world we have created.  It marks people safe in natural disasters, creates no shortage of minable data we can exploit in order to determine trends, allows us to investigate things in ways most people don’t even know are possible by combing data they don’t even remember creating.  The net is beautiful, in that sense - for advertising, for helping to make business transactions, for forming a brand on the skills in our respective fields we wish to market.  The net is great.  I cannot even remember what life was like before we had a high-speed connection.

But it seems we live so many times in it, from the latest TV series to the newest news article to the last thing suggested to us by an algorithm passively harvesting the information we provided.  And sometimes it feels wrong, but I don’t know why.  There’s no patience in it.  In the net, time passes differently.

[5mincolumns]

5min books review #5

Reed Hastings, Erin Meyer: No Rules Rules. Netflix and the Culture of Reinvention

Value for money

7/10

Year, Price, Pages, Cover design

2020 by WH Allen; Euro 23,01; 272 pages (293 pages with Acknowledgments, Selected bibliography, Index), Hardback

Jacket design by Two Associates, Author photography by Austine Hargrave, Book design by Lucia Bernard, Portrait Illustrations by Henry Sene Yee. Top-quality paper made from Forest Stewardship Council, the exquisite reading experience.

5 sentences about the book

The book itself is organized around the triad “talent-candor-control”, similarly, as the Netflix organization is built. Netflix’s organism can live only when all elements are in place — they depend on each other.

First, the organization builds up talent density by creating a workforce of high performers. Then it introduces candor by encouraging loads of feedback. In the end, it removes controls such as vacation, travel and expense policies.

In the next steps, the triad is tuned: strengthening talent density by paying top of the market, increasing candor by emphasizing organizational transparency and releasing more controls such as decision-making approvals.

Last chapters are dedicated to maximizing the triad: the Netflix’s Keeper test is used for maximizing talent density, the circle of feedback is used for maximizing candor and emphasizing leading by the context not control eliminates most controls.

Narration consists of two parallel storylines provided by Reed Hastings and Erin Meyer. Hastings represents a voice of practicality; he plots the conditions thanks to whom Netflix organization was established as we know it in its current form. On the other hand, Erin Meyer documents that there is a theory (psychological, sociological, cultural) behind every Hastings’s example.

What did I learn?

As well as Spotify model, Netflix triad works for Netflix and should not be treated as a copy+paste instruction model

Giving and receiving feedback is the additional inspirational lecture in the raster of similar books. Creating a culture of candor could be feasible in the micro-cosmos of your organization too (team, department).

“Don’t seek to please your bosses” — organization expects that employee tells her/his opinion and every person is responsible to tell what she/he thinks. If you start with line management or if you lead the product, there is a place to set up a relationship with your employees or colleagues in such a way and get benefit from it.

“My career is my responsibility”. The self-awareness of Netflix’s employees related to payment and salary awakened me and I realize my ignorance in the topic. Did you do your homework and are you familiar with the salary trends of your job position on the market today?

The place of the failure in the organization and how could be treated in the relationship of the employee and the boss (1. Ask what kind of learning came from the project; 2. Don’t make a big deal about it; 3. Ask her/him to sunshine the failure)

What was missing?

Mentioning above, reading the book could be as watching reality through the glass. Ok, interesting Netlifx story, the organization works only when all elements are in place. There are only a few things you can take away; you can try in your micro-cosmos but I would not expect the same results as Netlflix achieved.

Favourite quotes:

“In hindsight, I understood that a team with one or two merely adequate performers brings down the performance of everyone on the team. If you have a team of five stunning employees and two adequate one, the adequate one will

Sam managers’ energy, so they have less time for the top performers,

Reduce the quality of group discussions, lowering the team’s overall IQ,

Force others to develop ways to work sound them, reducing efficiency,

Drive staff who seek excellence to quit, and

Show the team you accept mediocrity, thus multiplying the problem.

For top performers, a great workplace isn’t about a lavish office, a beautiful gym, or a free sushi lunch. It’s about the joy of being surrounded by people who are both talented and collaborative” 7–8 (Reed Hastings)

Again you wonder, Should I speak up? But again, your lips stay sealed. You’ve probably experienced moments like these. You may not always remain silent. But often you do — and when you do, it’s likely to be because of one of the following reasons:

You think your viewpoint won’t be supported.

You don’t want to be viewed as ‘difficult’

You don’t want to get into an unpleasant argument.

You don’t want to risk upsetting or angering your colleagues.

You’re wary of being called ‘not a team player’” 18 (Erin Meyer)

“At Netflix, it is tantamount to being disloyal to the company if you fail to speak up when you disagree with a colleague or have feedback that could be helpful. After all, you could help the business — but you are choosing not to” 18 (Erin Meyer)

“We hire you for your opinions. Every person in that room is responsible for telling me frankly what they think” (Ted Sarandos) 26

“Because of our high-talent density, our employees were already conscientious and responsible. Because of our culture of candor, if anyone abused the system or took advantage of the freedom allotted, other would call them out directly and explain the undesirable impact of their actions” 52 (Reed Hastings)

“Real life is so much more nuanced than any policy could ever address” 57 (Reed Hastings)

“Spinning the truth is one of the most common ways leaders erode trust. I can’t say this clearly enough: don’t do this. Your people are not stupid. When you try to spin them, they see it, and it makes you look like a fraud. Speak plainly, without trying to make bad situations seem good, and your employees will learn you tell the truth.” 118 (Reed Hastings)

“When you succeed, speak about it softly or let others mention it for you. But when you make a mistake say it clearly and loudly, so that everyone can learn and profit from your errors. In other words, ‘Whisper wins and shout mistakes’” 123 (Reed Hastings)

“That’s when we added a new element to our culture. We now say that it is disloyal to Netflix when you disagree with the idea and do not express that disagreement. By withholding your opinion, you are implicitly choosing to not help the company.” 141

“A job should be something you do for that magical period of time when you are the best person for that job and that job is the best position for you. Once you stop learning or stop excelling, that’s the moment for you to pass that spot onto someone who is better fitted for it and to move on to a better role for you” 168

[eds-trashmouth]

PolyJAMorous

A/N: hi I hate this! But it’s here and it’s not what I intended but I hope you like it regardless. I’ve also decided that people probably don’t care about word count and all that so I’m not going to put it on anymore (unless you guys want me to) Thank you for the support and the next one will be better. I promise ❤️

-

A road trip was certainly not how the losers thought they would be spending their summer break before they all packed up and headed off to college. Yet, Richie had the bright idea to make the trip from Derry, Maine to Colorado. He’d come up with the idea a week or so into the start of their senior year. Luckily they’d had all school year to plan and save up money.

Richie got a job at the Aladdin, the local theater, taking tickets and cleaning up after the shows. He ended up making decent money and buying a used suv by the middle of the year. He had to cut out smokes but Eddie says it’s better that way. He’d do anything for Eddie so giving up cigarettes was nothing, although on his very stressful days Bev was nice enough to share a cig or two with him.

Eddie on the other hand, wasn’t allowed to get a job. Mrs. K turned down that idea almost immediately, yelling about how any job he would get as a teenager would be flipping burgers and she couldn’t have her precious Eddiebear flipping burgers in a “disgusting” fast food place. So, he decided he would tutor some underclassmen after school. He had put up flyers around campus to try to get some tutoring jobs but ultimately he didn’t get that many. He even tried to back out of the trip because he felt bad for having less than everyone else. Richie was the first to shut that idea down. “You’re going Spaghetti. Even if I have to pay for you myself. It’s a losers trip. Gotta have all seven of us!”

It took Beverly until the middle of the school year to finally find a job. Through no fault of her own, it seems that when the whole town thinks you’re dirty as a child, you don’t find many people who forget that kind of thing. She eventually landed a job with Richie at the theater. She suspected the Trashmouth himself had something to do with that, but she knew he’d never tell.

Now, Mike and Stan had a pretty easy time finding work. They’d been together since Sophomore year and Stan loved helping out on the farm, so Mike asked his grandfather if they could get paid for some of the farm work. It took a little convincing but by the third week of school, Mike and Stan were already getting their first week of pay. Stan definitely enjoyed rubbing it in Richie’s face that he got to see his boyfriend and get paid to do so. Maybe Richie took a quick glance at Eddie when he did so. Maybe he didn’t.

Bill also had a pretty easy time finding work. There was a new YMCA opening up in Derry and Bill already had experience lifeguarding for the past two summers so he applied to work at their pool. Obviously he got it, and he even snuck the losers in a few times for a late night swim.

Ben had been working at the library since sophomore year so he didn’t have to do much worrying. He had the money saved up by December, and a little extra for Eddie just incase. Although, Richie already called dibs on paying for Eddie. Even if Eddie didn’t know it yet.

Today was finally the day. They’d made it through the school year and even stayed for graduation. The losers had all met up at Richie’s to help get ready for the trip. The sun was blazing down upon them as they packed everything into the van. Each loser had a duffle bag and they’d brought a cooler filled with lunchables, sodas, and flavored waters requested by Stan and Eddie. It didn’t take too long to load everything and hit the road.

Richie insisted on taking the first shift driving. The trip was a whole days worth of travel, inevitably they would need to stop for gas, food, and possibly even a hotel but Richie was determined to drive as much as he could before stopping. This trip was his baby, he’d been planning it all year. They hadn’t really set a destination yet, other than Colorado, the whole idea was to just decide to stop somewhere pretty. Of the losers, Richie, Ben, Bill, and Mike were the only ones with a license, they’d done the math and needed to switch every 7 hours or so.

“What are these idiots thinking?!” From the passenger seat, Eddie rolled his eyes. The roads were bustling by mid day, and the cars were just flying by. “Don’t they know the speed limit is only 70? They’re going to cause an accident.”

“Eds, I’m only going 65. They’re probably going like 75 or 80.”

“Well regardless, that’s still over the speed limit Richie! It’s dangerous!” Eddie was talking with his hands, overly exaggerating everything, giving it the emphasis he always seemed to. Richie couldn’t help but glance at the boy beside him. He smiled fondly as Eddie noticed his attention. “Eyes on the road Chee!”

“Would you two lovebirds q-quit bickering? I’m t-trying to nap before it’s my turn to drive.” Richie peeked into his rear view mirror to see Bill with his eyes still closed and his head on Ben’s shoulder in the very back seat. Ben didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, his attention was fully on the game Beverly was playing next to him. Stan and Mike were seated in the middle of the vehicle, a bench seat to share, and wearing one earbud each watching Netflix. Richie would’ve gagged had he not fully intended on doing the same with Eddie once he was done driving.

“Let’s listen to some classic Richie tunes then Spaghetti! Everyone else is doing they’re own thing.” He could see Eddie roll his eyes once more in his peripheral vision before he leaned down to get the aux cord for Richie. He laid his hand out, waiting for Richie’s phone, which he gladly handed over. “Alright, I wanna listen to something good. Let me think.”

“I’m playing something while you decide then.” Eddie already went to work, plugging in the aux and setting up the radio. He opened the phone with his thumb and in seconds was on Richie’s Spotify. Richie couldn’t help but think how much of a routine this was. Just for them. None of the losers had their thumb print on his phone, everyone else had to ask how to work the radio or where his aux was, but not Eddie. His Eddie.

“No Jonas Brothers. That’s my only request.”

“You love them, don’t pretend to be hardcore.” Eddie was already scrolling down his playlist to search. Before long a familiar beat filled the air. A Jonas Brothers song.

“Don’t out me like that, and then play my favorite JB song. You can’t do me like that Eds.”

“Not my name, and this is your punishment for calling Spaghetti as well.” Don’t Throw It Away off their newest album blessed the speakers. Richie couldn’t stop himself and soon began screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs. His fingers tapped happily to the beat, while he danced in his seat. As the chorus hit and Richie had given into the music, he glanced over to see Eddie recording him.

“I know I’m famous but no pictures please. I’m just trying to live my truth!” Richie’s hand came up to cover the camera while he let out a loud laugh. Eddie was too quick for him though and moved the phone right out of his reach, leaning into the side door.

“Hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. You wouldn’t want us to die before we even get to Colorado would you? And besides, I have to document the trip. This is the last trip that we all get to have together before we move on.”

“I’ll never move on from you Spaghetti.” With his eyes still on the road, Richie tried grabbing for Eddie’s cheek only to get smacked away from the boy himself.

“Ha ha. Very funny Trashmouth. You know what I mean. We all have our own livings waiting for us when we get back. I want to remember this. Remember us Chee.” Out of the corner of his eyes Richie could see the slight flush on the boys face. “The losers that is. All of us.”

“Eddie,” Beverly spoke up from the back. “You know we’ll still be best friends right? Us going to college doesn’t change that. We can still have movie nights and study dates. Sure, it’ll be different because it’ll be through a screen but we will still be together. Once a loser, always a loser.”

The car fell into a comfortable silence after that. Richie’s mind always wondering to Eddie. This trip was really important to him, and Richie didn’t even know it. Eddie hadn’t told him and he hadn’t noticed. What kind of best friend is he? He couldn’t even see how worried Eddie was about the future. The future of the losers club. Of course Richie knew they’d always be together in some way, but he shouldn’t have assumed Eddie was feeling the same.

“Hey Eds,” Richie made sure to talk quietly, a conversation just for them. Eddie turned his attention from the road to Richie with a slight hum. “You know you’re my best friend right? And nothing will ever change that. Not even distance.” Eddie nodded in understanding but turned back to the window. Richie glanced at the time. They’d been driving for about 6 hours at that point, and the gas tank was getting pretty low.

“Alright. We’re stopping, we need some gas and then it’ll be Big Bill’s turn.” There was a chorus of okays as he looked for an exit with a gas station. Luckily the next one was only 10 miles down the road. He pulled off the exit and into a Speedway. “Go pee now! No accidents in my baby please!”

Everyone did their business and Bill paid for this round of gas. Richie checked the cooler to find only four more lunchables and a few flavored waters. He grabbed for the extra soda he’d packed to fill up the cooler again, making a mental note that they all needed a proper meal soon. Everyone piled back into the suv, Bill and Ben in the front, Stan and Mike once again on their middle seat, and Eddie Richie and Bev on the back bench seat. Then they were back on the road.

“Hey Eds, do you wanna watch some Netflix or something? I brought earbuds.” Eddie was in the middle of him and Bev and currently watching Bev play whatever game on her Switch. He’d been watching her since they left the gas station about an hour ago and Richie was jealous. Not of Beverly of course, just that she was getting Eddie’s attention. Richie had already listen to her explain her game to him, twice, and he wanted some Eddie time.

“Maybe later Rich. Bev is just about to beat this level but she only has like four units left. It’s really intense.” He didn’t even glance in Richie’s direction. If he would’ve, he would see the pout on his face and the hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means. What game are you even playing?” He was still pouting.

“Fire Emblem dude. I’ve already said that like five times since you’ve been back here. The new game came out and I’m obsessed. You get an X amount of fighters, they all have different abilities, and you have to try to kill all the enemies on the board. This game makes you a professor, so you have to train your students. This is a big deal. My class is about to kick ass. Now shush. It’s intense.”

“Sorry.” Eddie barely spoke as he continued watching Bev. Richie simply hung his head and plugged in his earbuds. He knew he was being a little ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. He’d spent 6 hours driving so it’s not like Eddie got much of his attention, and he deserved all of it. That just wasn’t in the cards this trip it seemed. It didn’t take long for Richie to get bored of Netflix, he was just watching old episodes of Criminal Minds anyways. Not even his guilty pleasure show could lift his mood. Looking over at Eddie once more, the other lad was still watching Beverly, but he also had his phone out on Instagram. Beverly had already finished the battle and he wasn’t even fully watching her. Yet, he hadn’t said a word to Richie. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt, but he didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be annoyed for hours either. Unless it was Eddie annoying him of course.

Richie went back to his own little world, turning on his ‘sad boi’ playlist, it felt fitting. He knew it was silly, but he felt like a fool. Of course Eddie would rather do anything else than spend this trip with Richie. This was his last trip with most of their friends, but Richie was going to UCLA with him. Why would he want to spend time with him? He already had to spend at least four more years with his annoying friend who made stupid jokes that weren’t even funny...and was secretly in love with him.

Fuck.

Richie’s mind was jerked to consciousness as the car came to a stop. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. With a yawn, he lifted his head off the arm of the seat. Man, his neck was killing him. As he cracked his neck he wondered how he even fell asleep lying on that in the first place. The doors were slammed open as everyone filed out one by one. Richie being the last to emerge, he caught a glimpse of the Taco Bell beside them and realized he was indeed starving.

“Lets fucking eat!” Beverly exclaimed running toward the restaurant doors. Everyone followed suit and mumbled their agreement. Eddie fell behind with Richie.

“Hey Chee. Did you have a nice sleep?” Richie didn’t even bother lifting his head as he simply shrugged. His mind was still elsewhere. He’d never admitted to himself that the things he was feeling were more than platonic but now it’s the only thing he could think of. The way he enjoyed the other boy’s attention, his eyes, his lips, his whole fucking face. He wasn’t ready to reveal his feelings so he suppressed them, even if it meant ignoring Eddie. He was sure Eddie would be relived anyways.

“Did you wanna watch Netflix after we eat? I’ve been looking forward to that Blake Anderson movie you downloaded.” Richie finally looked at him, honestly in shock that the other still wanted something to do with him. Which was a mistake. He shouldn’t have looked, then he wouldn’t have caught the sun in Eddie’s eyes.

“Nah it’s okay Eds. You can keep watching Bev play, I don’t mind.” Richie waved him off as they stepped inside.

“But I want to! Have you seen the trailer for Game Over Man? It looks fucking hilarious.”

“Oh. Sure, you can watch it. I think I’m just going to drive the rest of the way. I took a nap.” With that, Richie walked to the register to order. The other losers were already sat a table toward the back, waiting for their food. Eddie could pretend to want to spend time with him, but Richie could tell he wasn’t interested in the car. What would change that now? He had accepted it, and just wanted to drive. It helped him get away. Neither boy spoke the entire time they were eating, while the others engaged in casual conversation. If they noticed the two being quiet they didn’t mention it.

“Hey. I’m going to drive. I napped.” Richie grabbed the keys from Bill as he started toward the drivers side. He didn’t wait for a reply as he got in and started the suv. They had around 8 more hours until the reached Colorado and Richie intended on driving the entire way. It seemed like every could sense the tension but was too afraid to say anything. By the 20 hours mark everyone in the back was sleeping soundly while Richie jammed out. Everyone except Eddie. He’d been listening to Richie play half a song then change it, then listen to half another song then change it, and so on, for the past hour and a half. Richie knew he was probably being annoying, but he was more interested in keeping his mind off his own insecurities than noticing. It took another five songs for Eddie to finally snap.

“What the fuck Richard? Why do you keep changing the song?! Let one finish.” Richie didn’t need to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes, and probably pouting as well.

“Eds, did you just meme me? The meme lord.”

“First of all. No one says meme lord anymore. Second of all. We haven’t listened to a full song in hours, and it’s driving me insane.”

“I have multiple favorite songs and I love them equally. What can I say? I’m polyjamorous.”

“Ugh. Just shut up and pick a fucking song already.” Eddie turned his body to look out the window as he went silent and crossed his arms. Richie didn’t say another word, simply choosing a playlist and letting it play. This was going to be the longest five hours of Richie’s life. He hated making Eddie upset, but he didn’t want to open his dumb mouth and make everything worse. He always made everything worse...

“Hey, uh, Eds?” Richie finally broke the silence, Eddie had been staring out the window for two hours now and Richie was starting to worry. “I’m sorry about the music.” Eddie’s attention snapped to him as he turned back to him.

“That’s not why I’m upset idiot. Why are you being like this? We barely talked this entire trip! I was really looking forward to this, but now I’m just thinking it was a mistake.” Richie sneaked a glance in his direction before turning back to the road. He saw Eddie’s hurt expression and suddenly felt like an asshole.

“You made it pretty clear earlier that you weren’t interested in watching anything with me. I was just making it easier for you, by taking myself out of the equation. You can do what you wanna do now.”

“What? What are you talking about? I literally asked if you would watch it with me!”

“I know you only asked because I seemed down. But I’m okay Eds. You could’ve watched Bev play more. I didn’t take it personally don’t worry.” Richie tried to give a smile but it didn’t even meet his eyes.

“No Chee. I am worried. You’re talking non sense. I asked because I wanted to spend time with you. Dumbass. I was only watching Beverly because you needed to sleep! You’d just driven like seven hours in the early morning and I know you don’t sleep at night.” Richie’s eyes widened at Eddie’s words. He was officially speechless. Eddie wanted to spend time with him? He was just worried?...about Richie’s well-being? No way. No way Richie had misread the entire situation. No way.

“Richie. If you don’t say something I’m going to be more upset. Just being honest.” Eddie’s arms were once again crossed.

“I...don’t know what to say. I thought you seemed really disinterested in Netflix...with me.”

“I’d watch anything with you.” Eddie’s voice was so soft, Richie had to lean closer to even hear him.

“But...why?”

“Because I love you. You big dumb idiot.” Richie’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his brain processed what was just said. Platonic Richie. Platonic. He means it platonically....doesn’t he? Of course he does.

“Richie...” Eddie’s voice was soft once again as he leaned over to lay his hand on Richie’s. “When we stop, we should really talk.”

-Taglist

@richietoaster @geckolover001 @pennys-pet-kitty @aesteddie @elhopps @summerxle @mexicanqt @punkrocktozier @richietczicr @tozier-club @kristashae @princesass-theresa @dandeliontozier @doctor-lobster @queennugget3 @halfway-happy353 @reddieafterdark @beep-beep-reddie @hmufinn @stanuterus @not-reddie @curlywheelers @i-is-gazebo @temptedtozier @reddie-to-fight @girasol-eddie @mirandonsky @annoyingtozier @sedanleystanley @richieshawaiianshirts @tyrror @slingingwingingspidey @themarvelousmissmadge @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @muffin-berry @eddiekazier @reddie-to-go @did-someone-say-reddie @queen-sock

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed! (Or your name changed or something)

[politics-notmything]

I can't pretend that it's okay when it's not. (Part II)

This is Part II in the series. Reading Part I is recommended, let me know if you enjoyed and if you want more! Love you all!

TW- bad language, talk about rape and religion, talk about abortion. (let me know if there’s anything else I should add.)

Anne woke up with Parr beside her. What did she do to deserve her? Cathy's leg was dangling over the bed and her laptop was nearly falling off. Anne grabbed the laptop and was craving some Netflix. (When their relationship started becoming serious Cathy said that there should be no secrets between them and Anne happily told Cathy her password and figured she could do anything secret like plan an engagement on Kitty's MacBook.)

She punched into her girlfriend's passcode and the screen revealed a small word document. Pinterest was open beside it and the search was titled 'Baby rooms.' Anne diverted her eyes to the word document beside the tab. Each page was colour coded, pastel green, pastel blue, pastel yellow, pastel pink. Anne realised that Cathy had been getting inspiration for the baby's room. Anne closed the laptop slowly and smiled at her sleeping girlfriend, she looked so peaceful.

"Where have you been all my life?" Anne muttered before wrapping an arm around her girlfriend and snuggling down beside her.

"Babe? Annie? Wake up, baby." Cathy tapped on Anne's arm as she opened her eyes with a moan. "Anna's making pancakes, she wants everyone down to see her land the flip," Cathy explained. Anne closed her eyes again and rolled onto her back,

'I don't want to." She moaned.

"Cathy rolled her eyes and got into bed with her, "Let me rephrase that." She wriggled her arm around Anne's shoulder and pulled her in tightly, "Both of you need to get up." Cathy placed a hand on Anne's stomach and Anne snuggled into Cathy's chest.

"I don't know what to do." She mumbled so only Cathy could hear, "I want to keep it, I really do but I feel like I can't. It isn't really mine and it isn't ours. we still need to tell everyone and I don't think I can face that." Anne confessed not looking Cathy in the eyes,

"Annie, im not going to lie to you, this is going to be hard and im going to help you get through this, every second of it  and anyone who says you were wrong I will kill them." Cathy defended and Anne buried her head into Cathy's shoulder for support and comfort.

She felt safe in Cathy's arms with her warm breaths against the back of her pale neck,"This is why I want to marry you." Anne yawned before snuggling back up to Cathy to sleep again.

Marry? She wants to marry me? Cathy was shocked, Anne Boleyn actually wants to be my wife? A small snore came from Anne's pale pink lips that Cathy had found comfort in so often and she arose from the bed. She walked softly over to her cabinet being careful where she stepped and opened the top drawer. She picked up a pair of fluffy cyan socks and shook them so a small black box with a green trim fell into her hand. She placed the socks back into the drawer and opened the box, taking out a beautiful ring. The ring was solid 14K yellow gold with an assorted pattern of emerald and diamond.

It sparkled in the light and Cathy couldn't help but awe at its beauty. It was wonderous, the way it shone in the light, the 6 emerald gems reminded her of Anne and that's why she bought it.

Two weeks from now, Jane had booked a trip for them to all go to Disneyland in Orlando and Anne had always romanced about kissing Cathy under cinderella's castle and that's where Cathy is going to propose. It would start as normal, Anne would drag Cathy towards the photographer, scan their cards and ask for 100 photos and she wouldn't care about the price. Then, halfway through the photoshoot, Cathy would pull the ring from her pocket and Anne would be too busy posing to know what was going on. Cathy would get down on one knee and-

"I swear to our lord and saviour Jesus Christ! You two are up here and the-" Aragon stopped when she saw Anne sleeping soundly and Cathy holding the ring. Her tone softened, "Shit, im so sorry, that could've really backfired!” Aragon apologised before walking over Cathy holding the ring. "So, your actually gonna do it?"

"Yea, when we go to Disneyland." Cathy gulped and looked at the other Catherine for support.

"If you looking at me for confirmation-"

"Well, yes." Cathy interjected, "Your Catholic, isn't this whole thing against your religion? It might also mess up our relationships with the other queens and I don't want that." Cathy explained before putting the ring back in it's bok and then back in the sock.

"Look, im not going to judge or stop you. I've seen you two together sometimes and the bond you two have is unbreakable! I'm not gonna stop true love." Aragon then continued, "it was only a matter of time anyway. People have been putting bets on you two."

"wait, what?"

"Oh yea, Kitty bet me 10 that Anne was gonna propose first, I countered that in saying Anne wouldn't be ready and you would make the first move. Jane told us to stop arguing and that you'll do it in your own time and Cleves said that you're both desperately in love and will probably end up proposing at the same time anyway." Aragon explained and Cathy couldn't help but laugh at the statement and then letting the queen continue, "Like I said, people are betting, it's only a matter of time! You two are made for each other and nothing should keep you apart."

"Thank you, Catherine." Cathy enveloped her in a hug as the smell of pancakes crept through the door.

"I'll let you wake the gremlin up. I hate dealing with a tired Anne." Aragon gave Cathy one last supportive smile and left the room.

"Okay sleeping beauty!' Cathy walked over to the bed and gave Anne a little peck on the nose, "It's time to wake up, for real this time!"

Cathy held Anne's hand as they walked down the stairs,

"I think I'm gonna tell them, Cathy, they need to know," Anne explained

"I'm not going to stop you, Annie, you should know that by now, I'm with you all the way!" Cathy rubbed circles on the back on Anne's hand and she turned around to face her girlfriend.and

"Thank you,  babe' Anne said and Cathy could see it in her eyes as they interlocked their lips, she was genuinely grateful for everything and Cathy was going to keep it that way.

"I found them!" Anna's voice boomed in the hallway that leads to the kitchen,

"Honestly! It's been 2 hours since I knocked on your door this morning Anne, you need to eat!" Jane fused,

"She's probably already eaten." Cleves mocked and 'not-so-subtly winked at Parr who still had her hands-on Anne's waist.

"I hate you Cleves," Cathy remarked before lading Anne to her seat. Cathy could feel Anne's pulse racing and helped her sit down onto a chair for fear that she might fall, Kitty (who knew about Anne's 'big secret') gave her a reassuring smile from across the table. She'd been in Anne's position before. She’d also had her life and freedom taken away by a man who just wanted to use her for her body, to please only himself and having known what that felt like, Kitty would be there for her cousin without a second thought. 

Cathy soon arrived back with two plates, one with 3 pancakes for herself and another plate of 6 for Anne all covered in Nutella and cream, just how she likes them. Anne thanked Cathy with a kiss on the cheek and picked up her fork before dropping it back onto the table. The queens looked up from their breakfast and Cathy put a warm hand on Anne's thy.

'We have something to tell you all." Anne mumbled.

"Annie. I can say it, it's fine." Cathy whispered in her ear,

"thank you." Anne said loud enough for only Cathy to hear.

"Last night, I found out something very important about my girlfriend. And as a disclaimer, before we start if any of you give her any kind of shit for it I will personally murder and then Tumblr shame you all. Understand?" Cathy stood up and put a defensive hand on Anne's shoulder as the queens nodded.

"why Cathy whats happened?' jane interrupted.

"Anne was-"

"Anne is pregnant." Kitty confessed and her quick comment was met with speechless faces and a look of death from Catherine, "I'm sorry Cathy but I couldn't keep lying to you all. I heard Anne crying a few weeks ago and sand brought her a pregnancy test. She needed support and I was there, she hadn't even told Parr at that point!"

The queens stayed silent as to process the information

"Whos the father then?" Cleves asked upfront.

"I don't know," Anne answered to have confused looks thrown her way.

"Like she said, we don't know. He took advantage of her on the street when she was walking back from the theatre." Cathy explained to the now shocked but somewhat understanding queens.

"Are you gonna keep it?" Cleves continued to push Anne for answers.

"Who cares what she does with it!" Aragon shouted, "You have to take this to court, the man has to be punished!"

"I don't know who he is." Anne shrank into her chair

"Fuck that! You've been raped, Anne!" Aragon shouted and Anne flinched at the word, " Christ! That's worse than being beheaded, Anne!"

One of Anne's problems with the situation was that she'd been the vulnerable one. She hated being overpowered or beaten. She was a strong and powerful woman and this thing had broken her into thousands of pieces.

"Catherine!" Jane hushed.

"No! I may not like you but this is bullshit!"

"Aragon-" Kitty tried to reason but the older Catherine continued,

"You've been put through a lot Anne but at least Henry got consent! We need to know these things! How could you be so fucking stupid?" Aragon stood up and slammed her hands on the table,

"It wasn't her fault!" Cathy defended. "Do you think she chose this? Do you think she wanted this?" Aragon moved back a little, "or does your 'bible' say it's okay to use women like that-"

"I'm going to abort it!" Anne spoke up,

"What?" The two said in unison.

"I'm going to abort the baby. It's not really mine but this doesn't mean I don't want to have kids." Anne glanced at Cathy and she smiled,

"If it's what you want." Cathy accepted and Aragon sat down with a huff.

"I'll call the hospital," Jane suggested. "I don't think we'll be going out today," she looked at Kitty, "can you and Anna go put on a film?" Kitty nodded and dragged Cleves out to the living room with a giggle! "Come join us when you're ready." Jane addressed the final 3.

Once Jane had left the air transformed into an uncomfortable silence. Cathy sat back down and wrapped an arm around Anne. Anne snuggled back into Cathy and when she hummed, Aragon suddenly realised. Cathy was going to propose to Anne. The two had bonded so strongly over their traumatic pasts to become this force of nature that's stronger than the universe. This combination of love and happiness that they found in each other is why they can get through this without a court case and will be able to put their pasts behind them, marry and have a family with children of their own that will bring them so much happiness and the cycle will carry on. They can get through this, who was Aragon to say they couldn't.

"I'm sorry." She said, "it's your choice and you two can overcome this, you've done it before." Aragon smiled at the queens, Anne whispered a small "thank you." and she left the two alone together.

[caps-lockdown]

Sweet On You Part 3

Surprise! I had this chapter written by this morning and figured no time like the present to post! I’m pretty sure the last two parts won’t be for a minute simply because the rest of this week will be pretty busy for me, but I hope to have this series finished by my actual birthday at the end of the month! 

Again no beta so I own all of my mistakes and not any of the characters, with the exception of the reader.

Major thank you to @kaytizzle for the help with this particular part as I was torn with writing it. Enjoy!

Words: 3,416 (Strap in kids)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Rating: PG 13 (Language)

Summary: Part 3 of my series continues as you get a shocking detour from your scheduled birthday alone.

Warnings: Language. Otherwise fluff and some tension.

Part Three: Premature Heart Attack

“Alright it’s five o’clock people go home!”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and stood up from your desk in your office, watching the people quickly file out from their cubicles. You didn’t have a huge workload to accomplish today, Pepper giving most of the tasks to other employee so you could have “An easy birthday”. She had tried to make you take the day off but you wouldn’t hear it. It wasn’t like you had a significant other to spend it with or family.

You didn’t even have a pet.

After the office had emptied out you closed out of the windows on your computer and shut it down, locking your new employee orientation documents in your desk drawer. Grabbing your keys you locked your office door and happily strode to the elevators. You smiled to yourself and the elevator descended, humming joyfully as you exited to the lobby.

You had decided a nice night in with Netflix, a bubble bath, and your weight in Chinese food would be the best birthday present to yourself. Everything so far had gone right today. You said goodbye to the lobby security officer at the checkpoint and headed for the door. Nothing was going to stop you from enjoying yourself.

“Y/N!!”

You knew those two voices. You turned around from the large doors that lead to your freedom, your once happy smile dropping from your face.

Nat was running at you, a panicked expression gracing her beautiful features while Wanda wasn’t too far behind her. She looked just as worried. Shit.

“Y/N We. Need. Your. Help.” Wanda managed to get out in between breaths, Nat nodding vigorously in your direction.

“There is a dinner tonight with the new secretary of defense and Tony just took Pepper to the hospital because she’s having trouble breathing. She’s supposed to give a speech and we can’t find her notes.” Nat continued, looking at you with a hopeful smile.

“The team is helping with security tonight and we don’t know who else to ask. Please help us Y/N.” Wanda finished, looking at you and giving her best puppy dogs eyes. Shit. So much for your perfect night in.

“When was this scheduled? Why didn’t I know anything about it? When does it start?” You rambled off, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Usually working under Pepper meant you ran things behind the scenes. You had never been one for spotlight, and preferred working with the crew and ensuring things were perfect for meetings and galas alike. That was your zone and you thrived in it. You were actually hurt that Pepper had chosen not to include you in this event. You were supposed to be her assistant. As if reading your mind Nat piped up.

“Pepper wanted you to have a nice quiet birthday in. It’s only two hundred people Y/N. Nothing she couldn’t handle.” Your face paled as you swallowed hard.

“Yea and she told us to use Tony’s credit card for your dress. Think of it as a birthday present! We already bought ours and just have to change before we go.” Wanda beamed at you, holding up two large garment bags. You felt your heart melt a little at their encouraging faces. Wanda and Nat were really like family to you, and you know they would never ask you for anything you couldn’t handle.

“Alright.” You sighed, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a separate set of keys from your own. It had a letter “P” keychain and small thumb drive attached to it, which clinked together as you set it in Nat’s hand.

“This unlocks Pepper’s office. She never locks or shuts down her computer, look for the dinner speech notes and download them to this thumb drive for me. I’ll print them out at home while I get ready. Wanda you’re coming with me.” You started for the door, never taking the credit card.

“What about a dress?!” Nat called out, clearly concerned.

“I already have one.” You responded, tearing the lobby doors open and hurrying to the employee parking facility.

”Awwww yea let’s do this!” Wanda shouted as you sped walked to the car.

You had a dress in the closet you had actually bought a year ago for the company Christmas party, but you had chickened out last minute and had chosen to wear something a tad more simple. It had worked out anyway because again you were helping the crew with running everything, so you weren’t bitter about it. Tonight was the perfect night to take out the gown, even if the current idea of wearing it in public was terrifying.

You and Wanda essentially raced to take a seat in your car, it roaring to life as you swiftly turned the key and pulled out of your parking slot. You sped (only slightly) out of the massive parking garage and onto the busy streets of Manhattan, the congestion not as bad with it being nearly six pm now.

“How much time do we have Wanda?”

“You only have to make it in time for your speech, everything else is being taken care of by Mattie and Scott. You are slotted for eight but say the word and I can probably get you an extra half an hour, judging by the current circumstances.”

You nodded as you slowed to turn into your apartment parking. You killed the engine and dashed to get out, Wanda hurrying behind you. Less than an hour and a half. You could make this happen. You had to. Pepper needed you and she never asked you for anything like this. You couldn’t fail her when she had become like the sister you didn’

Jamming the key into your apartment door you took no time throwing it open, flipping the light switch to illuminate your small haven. You tore your work blazer off before chucking it onto a nearby armchair in your living room along with your keys, kicking your heels off by the door.

Running into the bathroom you quickly plugged in your curling iron and began the process of taking off your current daytime makeup. You would need the perfect glam look for tonight, so you were going to go big. It was also your birthday and you deserved a great night damn it.

“Where’s your dress Y/N?” You could hear Wanda entering your room as you brushed your teeth.

“Itmphs Inmmn thph closeph” You mumbled out as your electronic toothbrush hung out of your mouth, pointing as if she could see you.

“Closet. Got it.” You heard a lot of crashing noises as Wanda began to ransack your wardrobe, you shaking your head as you rinsed your mouth out, wiping your face on your towel before heading into your room.

Wanda stood there with the gown, her eyes wide as she looked from you to the daring garment.

“You’ve been holding this BEAUTIFUL dress hostage!? What the hell Y/N? This is stunning!”

You felt your face blush as she touched the gorgeous fabric of the green evening gown. You couldn’t help but feel a moment of pride as she gazed fondly at it before smiling wide at you.

“Steve is going to have a heart attack. Along with half of the male population there tonight. Maybe we should warn them. It’s going to become illegal in New York to look as good as you are going to at this gala, you know that right?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes before heading back into the bathroom where you peeled off the remainder of your outfit and changed into a black low back strapless bra and matching panties. Just because no one could see them didn’t mean you didn’t want to feel attractive under your dress too.

Turning your focus back into your mirror you began the lengthy journey of curling your hair for the gala, focusing on a more vintage look as you made tight pin curls onto your head, placing clips to hold them in place while they set. While they were cooling down you put on a fresh face of makeup, decided a sultry smoked out eye makeup and a more subdued nude lip would be best with your dress.

“I think you should tell Steve how you feel. Tonight.” Nat said as she opened the bathroom door, nearly giving you a heart attack as you squeaked out a half shriek. You made a poor attempt at covering yourself, only earning a cheerful giggle from Wanda. You hadn’t even heard her come into your apartment.

“Oh please Y/N, it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.” You glared at her as you finished setting your makeup, happy with the overall outcome.

“Did you get that speech downloaded?”

“Did ya one better!” Nat exclaimed, holding up the printed sheets of paper as you let out a relieved breath, pushing past her and into your room.

Your eyes looked at Wanda expectantly as you noticed a pair of silver heels and matching necklace and earrings sitting on your bed with your gown, only earning a shrug from the brunette in response.

Both women had already changed, Wanda wearing a beautiful red halter gown that reached her ankles and was embellished with gold rhinestones over the sides. She had gone for comfortable gold sandals for footwear and you were already envying her.

Nat had gone with a simple but elegant black dress that was designed in a more Grecian style. The gathering of the fabric flowing beautifully off her shoulders and offering a mid thigh slit, and accompanying her red pumps made for a knockout combo. They both looked nothing short of stunning.

Wanda smiled as you went to put on the shoes, thanking her for picking them out.

“Hey I was bored and silver would compliment your dress so well.”

“Can’t fault you there, I actually love these shoes. You both look spectacular by the way.” You all laughed as you adjusted the straps, the dress being a bit too tight and you didn’t want to have to bother with them after you got it on your body.

“Are you going to tell Rogers? He wouldn’t be able to say no to you looking this gorgeous.” Wanda muttered as the two women helped you into the evening gown, the green fabric clinging to your body as they pulled it down. You wiggled it over your hips before letting the rest of it fall to the floor, Nat zipping you up.

“Damn Y/N, if this gown was any tighter they would have to cut you out of it at the end of tonight. I see those training sessions with the boys are paying off!” Wanda whistled in appreciation while Nat circled around you, nodding enthusiastically.

“This will be the only time in the history of the universe where I actually agree with you. Usually I’m planning my funeral after those sessions.”

They laughed as you took out your pin curls, brushing out your hair to resemble vintage waves. Securing your hair with pins and hairspray, you hung the silver necklace around your neck and fastened in your earrings. You spun around in a circle and looked at Nat and Wanda, both women clapping and cheering for you.

You checked your reflection out in the mirror and actually felt pretty damn good about tonight for a change. Everyone was going to be shocked, and you wished that the girls were right about Steve being speechless. You didn’t want him to have a heart attack, but you weren’t opposed to his heart skipping a beat, or his jaw falling to the floor.

“The limo is here to pick us up!” Wanda called out from the large window in your apartment that overlooked the city.

Spraying a light mist of perfume on yourself and applying deodorant you found your silver clutch and quickly put your wallet and phone into it, grabbing your keys off your armchair. Doing a quick once over of your apartment you turned off the lights and headed out, the girls cheering as you made your way down the otherwise quiet hall.

Exiting your apartment building you gasped at the Limo. It was Tony’s Limo. No one ever got to ride in Tony Stark’s personal limo. Except Tony. The large plush black leather seats welcomed you in as you sat down, admiring the fully stocked bar on the side. It was absolutely huge, and you were starting to understand why the billionaire didn’t want to share.

“Tony wanted to surprise you by letting you ride to the gala in style. Also to apologize because he knows it’s a ton to ask of you on your birthday.” Nat chuckled as she lightly pushed your arm.

“I’ll make it work. Pepper ok?”

“She’s stable, but turns out it was just high blood pressure due to stress. They’re going to keep her for a couple more hours and run some extra tests to be sure.”

“Well look who she married, she’s permanently stressed.” You quipped, Wanda nodding as your driver started down the street.

“Where is this gala anyway?” You inquired, looking out the window and trying to figure out where you were. The streets weren’t looking familiar to you so you figured it wouldn’t be at The Tower or anywhere in Manhattan.

“The Museum of Natural History. President thought it best to honor our past and blah blah blah.” Nat answered making a gabbing hand motion, your eyes lighting up.

The American Museum of Natural History was one of your favorite places to visit. You loved the butterfly conservatory and planetarium, and they had just opened a new wing dedicated to the Avengers last month. The whole reveal had been amazing and you were really happy you would be going back so you could really take your time going through it. The initial opening you had been rushed, so tonight you were going to comb through it exhibit by exhibit.

“Oooh look out Y/N went into Museum mode.”

You swatted Wanda as you heard your driver announced your upcoming arrival to the massive building. You could barely hide your enthusiasm as you practically leapt out of the car, Wanda and Nat trying to catch up as you climbed the stairs outside.

“Wait up Y/N! You don’t know where you’re going!” You stopped after entering the doors, waiting for the two women and tapping an impatient foot. As soon as this speech was done you were going to roam this building until your feet hurt. Then you would take off your heels and keep walking until every inch of this museum had been covered.

“Well hurry up then! I’m not getting any younger and we have less than ten minutes!” You huffed as Nat took your arm and lead you past security and down the main hall of the museum. You stared longingly at the dinosaurs as you hurried past them, promising to return later.

You neared the new unseen Oceans exhibit and saw a very nervous Tony Stark pacing the floor, figuring out that was where the event would be taking place. It was right next to the new Avenger’s exhibit so again, you were more than happy.

“Oh Y/N thank god!” Tony went to embrace you as Natasha and Wanda went to take their security positions in the exhibit, promising to catch up with you later.

“Tony is Pepper ok?” Tony nodded and you relaxed a little, your boss always being top priority to the both of you.

“Yea she’s going to be ok, but she’s going to be super pissed when she sees how perfect you look on the tv. Damn giiirl.” You laughed as Tony clapped in your direction, taking in your attire and shaking his head.

“Shove it Stark.”

“You only need to ask nicely Y/N. And maybe buy me dinner first. Shall we?” You threw your head back to laugh before taking his offered arm. Security nodded you in and you felt a slight chill as you entered the darkened exhibit, the green and dark blue lights swirling along the floor to imitate the ocean’s waters.

“Nervous?” Tony asked, noticing how tense you had become on the short trek to the main part of the exhibit, you only being able to nod in response.

“Don’t be, everyone is here for you tonight.”

“What do you mea…” You were quickly silenced as you entered the room by thunderous applause and cheering.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!”

Letting your eyes adjust to the now well lit room, you couldn’t help but beam at the sight before you. Hundreds of coworkers and your friends gathered around your entrance, the large “Happy Birthday” banner swinging from the ceiling and everything decorated with balloons and streamers to match the exhibit.

You noticed the large thirtieth birthday cake in the middle of the room surrounded by presents and felt yourself tearing up at the overwhelming amount of love.

“Oh you guys….this is…this is so wonderful. Thank you.” You managed to choke out as a very healthy looking Pepper stepped up to you and Tony.

“Sorry about the scare Y/N, it was the only way we could think of to get you to come out tonight. You look amazing.”

“Thanks Pepper. I hate you.” She laughed as you smiled at her before wrapping her in a hug of appreciation, managing to keep your emotions at bay.

You shifted your gaze towards the group of people, making your way to them and dispersing hugs and thanks.

“Damn Y/N you look so good!” Sam said before pulling you close, whispering into your ear.

“Who are you and what have you done with the timid and modest Y/N?”

“You asshole don’t be like that! She looks incredible!” Bucky interrupted, taking his turn to give you a hug before passing you along to Bruce who shook your hand.

“I see our training has proved fruitful. You look exquisite.” Thor offered, hugging you tightly before allowing you to break free. You hadn’t managed to see Steve yet, and you felt yourself scanning the crowd looking for the first Avenger as Nat and Wanda hugged you.

“We’re sorry we fooled you. But you should have seen your face!” Nat exclaimed while Wanda took out her phone.

“No need, we can show her!”

“You post that on any social media and I will murder you.” You glared at the women who only smiled cheekily in response while they showed you the short video, your face heating up as you watched your own shocked expression upon entering the room.

“Ease up ladies, our girl only turns thirty once.” You turned around to find the source of the deep voice and felt your pulse quicken and breath hitch.

Steve was smiling widely at you, his own crisp gray suit flattering his masculine frame. He had his hands in his pockets, his blue eyes carefully making their way down your body before slowly bringing them back to your face. His gaze was smoldering and electric as his eyes locked on yours for what seemed like minutes. You were starting to wonder if you would be having the heart attack this evening as he came to step in front of you.

“Steve! You look….wow!” You sputtered out, groaning and trying to hide your face as your blush came back. Wow? Seriously? Steve only laughed as he took your hands from your face and gently tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Hey you look pretty wow yourself.” He smiled and you felt as if your knees would buckle as he winked at you before giving engulfing you in a hug.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you felt his body heat melt into yours during the embrace. This could not be happening to you. It had to be a fever dream. Maybe you were in a coma. Maybe you’ve been in one for the last two years and only thought Steve up. There was no way Steve Rogers was this perfect and real.

“Hey Rogers! No keeping the birthday girl to yourself now! Especially with her looking this fine!” Sam interrupted and grabbed your arm, you laughing as Tony brought up his hands to shout.

“Let’s start this party already!”

You couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder at Steve while Sam dragged you to the dance floor, offering him a small smile as loud pop music began to flood the room.

Was it just you or did he look…torn?

Tag list: @kaytizzle @cuffski

[queen-of-the-vampires]

break on me

characters: elena gilbert x reader

word count: 1,320

warnings: angst, fluff at the end

summary: elena is the only person who has been a steady constant in your life, and you love her so much

beta: she wants to remain anonymous

squares filled: break on me by keith urban

author’s note: this is for my own song bingo and if you have any requests, please send them in!

feedback the glue that holds my writing together

tags at the bottom

It wasn’t enough that you haven’t found love or a job you like. It wasn’t enough that everyone in your life seemed to drift from you. Out of all this madness, one person has stuck by you when you needed them. Elena Gilbert was your best friend, and she earned that title when you met her on the first day of high school.

You two hit it off, talking like you had been best friends for a while. From the start, you could tell she would be the one to stick by you in anything. She helped you when you needed advice on dating and crushes, and when you needed to escape your family because the drama would be so intense that you could feel yourself get physically sick from it. In turn, you helped her deal with her vampire issues and overprotective friends, the Salvatores. They wouldn’t let her make a decision for herself, and she loved that you let her do that. There is nothing that you two hadn’t been through together. Without her, you didn’t know where you would have ended up.

She knew of your problems with your family, your so-called friends, the problems you had at the job you hated, and even with your bad luck with love. She’s stayed up with you on countless nights, talking with you and trying to make you laugh even though you had been crying seconds before. Her friendship is something you cherished, and you didn’t know what you did in your life to ever deserve it.

There’ll be days your heart don’t wanna beat You pray more than you breathe And you just wanna fall to pieces And nights, those 2 AM calls Where dreams become walls And you just need a break Break on me

Elena was sound asleep when she heard someone knocking on her door. She was a light sleeper thanks to her vampire side, which is why she woke up at the first knock. The time was 2 AM, so no one should be at her door anyway. The fact that someone is put her on alert, and she rushed over to the door before opening it. When she opened it, she was on full alert.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” she asked with wide eyes. Standing there in only your pajamas and fuzzy slippers, clutching a pillow to your chest, you sighed sadly before looking at her in the eyes.

“No,” you sniffled. Your eyes were red from crying on your say over here, and your voice cracked when you spoke.

“Did you walk to my house in the middle of the night?” she asked surprisingly.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered. Her house was exactly six blocks from yours. Elena let out a sigh in relief when she saw no injuries on your body, but she knew you had some on your mind. She led you into her house, and while she got some hot chocolate ready, you took a seat on the couch. Elena hated seeing you this way because she developed a crush on you over the years. Being the only person who knew you the best, she could confidently say she was in love with you. She knew you didn’t feel the same since you always asked for advice on dates, which is why she never pursued anything.

That night, she became your rock as you let out how your sister betrayed you once again. She was always there for you, letting you break in front of her because you knew she would always be there to pick up the pieces and try to put you back together again.

Shatter like glass Come apart in my hands Take as long as it takes, girl Break on me Put your head on my chest Let me help you forget When your heart needs to break Just break on me

Last time, it was your sister, but this time it was your boss who hated you. You were over at Elena’s again since you decided to take off work in the middle of the day. She had the day off from her busy life, which you appreciated. Your job was hard, and you wanted to quit, but you needed the money so fucking bad. You’ve been there the longest, and you hoped a promotion was coming your way to reward you and all of your hard work.

Your boss constantly berates you, and all you could do is just tolerate it because if you stood up for yourself, he would fire your ass in an instant. Elena was there for you, letting you cuddle into her side as you cried into her chest. Her heart broke at the sight, but she kept her mouth shut since she knew you just needed a friend instead of advice.

There’ll be times when someone you know Becomes someone you knew But you’d do anything to change it And words you wanna take back But you know you can’t When the page just won’t turn And it still hurts Break on me

“I thought she was my friend. God! I can’t even get this right!” you yelled at Elena even though she did nothing wrong.

“She didn’t deserve you” is something Elena would have told you, but she was fed up with how you were being treated. “No, you know what? We’re not doing this tonight. No more crying.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what we’re going to do tonight? You’re going to a sleepover, we’re going to get into comfy pajamas, we’re going to turn on Netflix, and we’re going to watch some comedy movies because it is too damn depressing in here,” she declared as she got up from the couch. Giggling, you watched her move around the living room as she got it ready for your supposed sleepover.

“There, right there,” she said, pointing at your face.

“What?” you asked with a small smile.

“Your smile. Keep it there. You look gorgeous with it on,” she winked before going into her bedroom for two sets of pajamas. You’ve been over so often that some of your things and clothes were already in her care. Did she really just wink at you?

You’ve been blaming the world for all your problems, always finding something new to complain about when you didn’t need to. You had a home, an income coming in and a beautiful best friend who’s been there for you longer than you could remember. Why would you go on dates when you had the woman you loved right beside you? It may have taken you this long to realize it, but you were in love with her. Maybe she didn’t feel the same, but even if she did, you couldn’t tell her. She was the one person you couldn’t lose.

Elena came back with two sets of pajamas and handed you yours. Grabbing them with a smile, you headed to the bathroom to change. When you came back, Netflix was on, the wine was on the table, and popcorn was in bowls on the couch. Taking a seat next to her, she pulled you into her body as she laid down so that you were on top of her. She was a tiny person, but she radiated heat despite being a vampire. She was so comfortable that you could fall asleep on her anytime.

“Thank you, Elena, for everything,” you whispered as the movie played.

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

“I know. I love you,” you confessed. She smiled as she raked her hands through your hair. She didn’t respond with words, instead, pulled you tighter against her body. Maybe one day, she would confess her feelings to you because you were an amazing woman who deserved the world.

Oh, when you need somebody When you need somebody right now You’re where I’ll be Break on me

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