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b612sunsets · 3 years ago

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Ahhh I’m happy to see someone else loving The Devil Judge - it truly is amazing 😭😭🖤✨ I love Yo-Han and Ga-on’s relationship I swear let them be destructive together!

I hate waiting for new episodes so please tell me one of your theories, it can be about anything! 🥰

Right?! I love it so much, it's really good to have our lilttle fam getting bigger, can't wait until it airs on Netflix, we will have even more people going crazy about it in here! (at least I hope it will become a Netflix series after the show ends like Beyon Evil - another love of mine) and yes, lawful husbands can be destructive together but only to the bad people pls 🥺

It's tough waiting for new episodes every weekend and at the same time I wish for it not to end so soon. It hasn't finished but I already want Jisung and Jinyoung in a second season or working together in another drama. Their chemistry on screen is too good to stop there

About the theories, there's a few I saw on reddit/twitter and I make my own based on it and after watching every episode, but I think it's too early to talk about them. However, since you requested it, there's some that come to mind as interesting enough to mention.

The fire and the story behind it narrated by Yohan

1- Some people think Yohan did start the fire because he found out about the dirty politicians real intentions and decided to destroy them all in the same place before Isaac could donate the money bc he is "a devil" and capable of that since he was a kid as told by the priest with the school incident and the nanny with the maid and dog thing. side note: not for pranking some kids who bullied him because that's all it seems like, right? But in terms of observing, thinking strategically and being one step ahead when needing to punish the whole classroom who wronged him even as young as he was and feeling satisfied while watching the result and staying out of it. A type of mentality probably encouraged by Isaac and the books he gave him to read, unlike a regular kid who would just fight back or endure it. And we still have to see if it really was Yohan that contributed to the maid's death or if it was something/someone else and the nanny thinks it was him.

They think that Elijah even saw him in front of the door right before the fire started and smiled at him instead of smiling at her parents, like she did in the gates of the cathedral in the previous scene, so that's why she hates him so much now because she can remember seeing him as the responsible for it. But Yohan didn't intend to kill/hurt Isaac and the rest of the family, thinking he could save them or something, and felt guilty that he couldn't do so. Some even said that Yohan delayed too much in trying to save them after entering the church and seeing Elijah getting her legs hurt, that it may have been shock but why would he remember everything and everyone so clearly if he was in shock?

It's a good theory but I have my own remarks: why wouldn't he tell Isaac about the politicians himself if he knew the dirty about them then? They had a close relationship and Isaac gave him books about punishment and everything, it wasn't like Isaac was too naive and wouldn't believe his half-brother. He wouldn't have donated if Yohan told him. "Oh he was being the devil and finding a way to punish them instead of just letting is slide and not donating" still, Yohan wouldn't risk Isaac and Elijah with such a dangerous plan if he could avoid having Isaac and Elijah at all in the destruction scene by telling Isaac about it. It could have been shock and Yohan wanting to look and commit to mind everyone's face in that day responsible for hurting his niece and not caring about anyone else but themselves, pushing him away and delaying his attempt to get to them in time, leaving Isaac and the family behind (after they almost donated them their money) and things like that. So he can avenge them now, like he did in the school with the kids. That's why as soon as he could, he canceled the donation in the most easy way by saying his brother wasn't sane enough to make that decision before dying.

There's also the theories about Isaac being the insane/evil one, which wouldn't surprise me because I've considered it since episode 3 but at the same time I'll not be touching that topic now and I don't know if I ever will unless proven otherwise in some other episode

2- The other theory I have and saw people discussing (the one I'm most inclined to believe because I'm Yohan biased but again it's too soon to be sure) is that the story Yohan narrated is mostly if not completely true and he experiences extreme guilt for not coming back and saving Isaac when the church collapsed on him, as seen in the character introduction by tvN translated in this tweet that we now know it's about Isaac:

The last words Yohan said to Isaac was that he was going to come back for him, so he experiences nightmares like the flashbacks we saw in episode 1 and that's why we don't see any scene of Isaac in the middle of the church after the fire staring at Yohan or during the fire and turning to stare directly at Yohan when he narrates it. Because they're dreams and his guilty conscience and he remembers them when looking at Gaon. The flashback of Yohan kneeling down and touching Isaac with Elijah's bear close to him could be after he got Elijah out from there and he went back to put the bear next to him kinda like a "Sorry for not coming back in time", a reassurance that his daughter for whom he died for is safe and will always stay with him, a "Goodbye". He wouldn't just let Isaac's body lying there, he would go back even if it was too late.

Another thing is that when Yohan is showing Gaon his scar after telling the story, there's a book fallen at his feet. I think it was the thing that fell when Yohan standed up from the table and choked Gaon (trying hard not to comment on that choking scene as a 🔥 Gahan moment for our delight and imagination bc that's not the point right now lol)

This is the book:

And the first page of this book says "Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one." - John Berger

I searched about it and it can mean that never again will a story be told as if it's the only one that matters. It could also mean that never again will a story be so encompassing of the elements it tackles that no other story need be written about these elements. A story has many perspectives that cannot be understood by just a single viewpoint. Isn't that what this kdrama is all about?

One of the translations of what Yohan said after Gaon left was:

But there's also another version:

The meaning of what he said changes a bit depending on which translation is more accurate, more so when we add the book quote to the equation.

Kim Gaon and his connection to Kang Yohan

People think Gaon could be Isaac's relative in some way or just a look alike (I think it's just a look alike to contribute to Yohan's obsession/curiosity and their proximity from the start, that's why no one really comments on it, not even Gaon when he sees Isaac's picture). Dear God, let them not be related because it would make shipping our lawful husbands really strange, to say the least.

What I'd like to say and almost everyone is forgetting is that in the tvN character introduction we already have Gaon's past and know he wasn't always a goody two shoes, the man was a juvenile delinquent and can even fight (the rebellious phase he said he made the tattoo in episode 3?). He too sought revenge for his parents when he was 16 because they committed suicide after losing their money and being deceived by multi-level con artists posing as social service workers. But the teacher and Soohyun were able to hold him back.

Yohan's father could be one of the reasons for their death. He was a loan shark and might have lend them money after they lost it all and it caused them to have a great debt, that's why Yohan did a thorough research on Gaon and was interested in him (not only because he resembled his half-brother). They shared one enemy in common and maybe even a place (churches, Yohan's father tended to confess his sins in a church when his debtors killed themselves). Or Yohan might have researched about him at the time he knew Gaon was chosen to be the associate judge sitting on his left side instead of way before, because it's important to Yohan to know who he is dealing with and the dirty of their past if they have any. And then Yohan discovered everything and saw his picture and resemblance to Isaac.

The thing is: they have the same distrust/repulsion of powerful people who deceive the world and had a painful loss because of that. Both of them think they have the other exactly where they want but they get more confused about what it is that they really want from the other and get closer (as said in the summary of episode 5 that tvN released) while figuring it out. They will come to an understanding and probably join forces at some point. We saw it in the end of episode 4, the scene of episode 5 when Gaon says he can understand Yohan's pain but can't trust him if he doesn't tell him everything and then Yohan says Gaon needs to decide if he will get in his way or stay by his side. Gaon might go back to his rebellious days and stay with Yohan to seek revenge together while distancing himself from Soohyun and Jungho who prevented him from doing so

And that's about it! Thank you for your ask and hope my answer is satisfying enough! 💙 The hardest but also most awesome part is having to wait to see.

#the devil judge #answered asks #the devil judge theories #lawful husbands #gahan #analysis #the devil judge analysis

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speechlessxx · 5 years ago

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Requite (Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: A visitation to a prison invites new emotions.

Warnings: slight CHEATING (it’s a kiss and like feelings), slight SPOILERS, for Defending Jacob, language, implied AGE GAP, this was just a brainstorm I had, unrequited requited love kinda not really (if that makes sense), mentions of ABUSE

Word Count: 2.5k

Hope you enjoy!

READ PART 2 HERE

It wasn’t your place – and you knew that. So, why were you here – trembling in front of a glass barrier and fumbling with the cord of the telephone in your hands?

The man in front of you looked tired and rugged. The years he spent behind bars evident all over his face. But when you looked in this murderer’s eyes, you couldn’t help but see Andy’s. They were the same pristine blue shade. The only difference was that Andy’s were warm, inviting, and full of light whereas the man in front of you looked as if the light had been snuffed out of him – perhaps it was never there to begin with.

“You’re the wife?” He asked. He looked you up and down and cocked an eyebrow up. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m not his wife,” you muttered.

“So, what are you, then?” The man gave you an amused look. He was taunting you, trying to make you snap. Your eyes narrowed at his words.

“That’s not your concern.”

“Then why are you here, honey?” You cringed at the pet name. You remembered your abusive father coo that very word at you to apologize for laying his hands on you. You remembered your husband do the same.

Why were you there?

Andy was your friend… of kinds. He was a neighbor in your picture-perfect suburban neighborhood. However, you were treated like an outcast among the other suburban ladies. You always attended parties and gatherings with, or without, your husband. And in the crowds, you always felt so alone.

You were young – still in your twenties – and married to a wealthy businessman that was old enough to be your father’s younger brother. You pretended you couldn’t hear the gossip – the whispers and snickers calling you a “gold-digger” or a “trophy wife”. You married because you needed financial stability to pay off your student loans. You couldn’t do it on your salary alone. Afraid no one else would love you or help you, you said yes to the first wealthy sleaze that got down on one knee.

You tried to make your marriage as picture-perfect as your neighborhood. To strangers, it was. You were good at framing. Your framework made it impossible for others to see the truth behind the photos.

You were a doting wife to a man who was always gone on “business trips” to Vegas with a barely legal bottle blonde on his arm. When you finally got the courage to call him out for his numerous affairs, he threw one of his foreign beer bottles at you. It smashed against the wall, beer staining the paint and scratching it up as small shards of the glass cut your skin. It followed with a “honey, I’m so sorry” which reminded you of your father’s abuse.

After then, the incidents gradually got worse. He’d hurl things your way when he grew aggravated with you. Then, he began to throw punches. He held you down by your wrists before when you threatened to walk out. You felt like your adolescent self again. Instead of your father beating you, your abuser became your husband.

It was Andy, your next-door neighbor, who first asked you about the finger-shaped bruises wrapped around your wrists. You played it off, calling yourself a klutz, but Andy saw right through it. When the bruises, marks, and cuts became a staple of your appearance, Andy knew something was wrong. You weren’t clumsy. You were being hurt.

He confronted you about it. He was relentless in trying to get an answer from you. One night he heard crashes and screams from your home. He rushed over although Laurie had told him to stay out of it and call the police instead. He reasoned that if you were in danger and something were to have happened to you, he’d feel responsible. He found you crying in your living room, picture frames smashed and your coffee table demolished, a dining room chair was lodged into it. You had a bruise forming on your temple, a bloody cut on your cheekbone, and you were cradling your arm to your chest. Your husband had driven off in his luxury car. Whatever doubt he had about the abuse vanished. The scene itself answered all his questions.

It was Andy who saved you from the dangerous home. It was Andy who helped you with your divorce.

After your divorce, your husband took off, leaving you the house and alimony checks. As your injuries slowly healed, you slowly built a relationship with the Barber family – primarily Andy. He’d often check in on you and invite you over, trying to make that big house of yours feel less lonely.

“I’m here for Andy,” you finally answered. You stared into the man’s eyes.

“Oh?” The man sneered. His teeth were yellow, maybe even rotting. He smirked at you. “You’re here about his boy.”

“Jacob’s a good a kid,” you nodded. You babysat and often drove the Barbers’ son to and from school when Andy asked. Aside from his standoffish and strange behavior (one time you swerved around a dead cat and Jacob seemed so fixated on the animal), he was a good kid.

“So, I’ve heard… But good kids don’t become murder suspects.”

“He’s innocent until proven guilty,” you frowned. “Why won’t you do it? Andy just wants you to swab your mouth. It’s easy. Hell, you don’t even have to do it, the guard will.” He crossed his arms and leaned forward to the glass. His stare was unwavering and cold – just like your father’s… just like your husband’s. “You want to punish Andy.”

“He won’t help me and he knows he can. He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m his father.”

“You haven’t given him a good reason to,” you snapped. “Andy’s a good man. A better man than most will ever be. And he’s a damn good father. He wouldn’t even have come down here if it weren’t for Jacob.”

“You talk like you’re in love with the man.” He smirked. He leaned back on his chair as he studied you. “You are, aren’t you?”

“That’s not your concern.”

He laughed. It boomed and made you flinch. You looked down at your hands. You weren’t trembling anymore. In fact, you were just frustrated. How can a kind, compassionate man like Andy be the spawn of this heartless killer?

“What kind of a good man turns his back on his own father,” the man asked.

“He turned his back on a murderer.”

“And you don’t think he won’t do the same to his son?”

“Jacob’s innocent until proven guilty,” you repeated. “What will it take to get you to do it?” He smirked at you and you felt a wave of disgust as you remembered the reason he was here in the first place. “Not like that, you sicko.”

“I’ll do it,” he nodded.

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. He repeated the three words. You frowned at him. “Just a second ago – “

“It’s good Andy has someone on his side. Arguing for him. Defending him and his son.” He smiled, wickedly. “Too bad you aren’t the wife, huh? How is his wife? Laurie, is it?”

“I’m not as close to her as I am to Andy,” you admitted.

“I wonder why you two are so close that you’re willing to drive up here to talk to me.” The man gave you a knowing look.

“It’s not like that!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, honey,” he chuckled.

“You’re not fucking with me? You’re actually going to do it?”

“I will,” he nodded. “You got a spark in you, honey… It’s a shame you aren’t the wife. I’ll do it for my son.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Barber,” you muttered and popped the telephone back onto its stand. There was no reason to stick around and hear his taunts.

You did what you came there to do.

-=+=-

Andy was relieved and a bit confused. Joanna had informed him that his father agreed to the swab. After the brief conversation that the father and son had, his father had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the trial – that he didn’t want to help Jacob. So, what made him change his mind?

He remembered talking to you about it. You were the first person he saw on his way back from seeing his father. He unloaded his frustrations on you, and you sat and listened to him. It reminded you of the times when you would confide in Andy about the abuse you endured from your father and your husband. It was the least you could do.

“Go inside. Tell your mom about the fish,” Andy told Jacob as the two began to unload the car. His son nodded and began to make his way to their front door. With a frown, Jacob looked over and saw his dad hastily walk towards your home. He shrugged before going inside.

Andy walked past the “For Sale” sign posted outside your lawn next to your mailbox. He frowned at the sign. When did you plan on leaving?

He knocked on your front door a few times and even rung the doorbell. He stood outside for a few long moments and just as he sighed and turned to leave, you opened the door.

“Sorry!” You apologized. Your hair was tied up and your forehead had a sheen of sweat.

“No worries… Mind if I come in?”

You widened the door and gestured for Andy to come inside. He gave you a small smile and a nod as he stepped through the door. The walls weren’t as decorated as he remembered. You must’ve taken down the picture frames. It made sense. Your husband was out of your life. Why keep the memories around? The hardwood floors were littered with boxes. Some were taped shut and had words scribbled on their sides – “kitchen”, “bedroom”, “donations”, etc.

“Sorry about the mess,” you muttered when you noticed that he was looking around the house.

“It’s not a problem, (Y/N), really,” Andy grinned.

“What can I do for you, Andy?”

“I think you’ve done enough.”

“What?” You frowned.

“You spoke to my father?” He asked. His tone was angry – or at least you registered it as so. Your eyes widened as you desperately looked around the room – staring at anything but Andy’s eyes. You crossed your arms as you tried to pull into yourself. It was a reaction you had when your husband raised his voice at you, an indicator that his patience was wearing thin and you were going to need an ice pack later. Andy’s brows furrowed in realization – you often held that posture whenever you spoke of your husband’s abuse. “I’m sorry… I’m not upset or anything, (Y/N). I just wanted to know why…”

You relaxed your arms as you found the courage to look at Andy. They did have the same eyes. “For you… and for Jacob,” you rushed. “I know it wasn’t my place, but you were so upset about it… I figured I could… I could give it a shot? Maybe talk some sense into him or convince him? I dunno… You helped me when I was in a tough spot, I thought I should at least try to return the favor.”

“You didn’t need to,” Andy shook his head. “But thank you.” You smiled at him and nodded. “No, really, thank you,” Andy sighed. To your surprise – and maybe even his – he wrapped his arms around you. You felt your cheeks flush as your ear was pressed against his chest. Andy’s chin rested at the top of your head.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes – it felt like eternity. You had forgotten what it felt like to be held, to be cared for, and appreciated. Perhaps Andy was the first man in your life that made you feel safe and you were grateful. Maybe that’s where your crush stemmed from. Andy was a kind man and an amazing father – things that were missing from your own life.

In turn, Andy had forgotten how it felt to hold someone. His and Laurie’s intimacy had been challenged for years now and their marriage took another hit with Jacob’s upcoming trial. He remembered how much he wanted to help you and get you out of your abusive marriage. It was a distraction from his own marriage that was slowly falling apart.

“You’re moving?” Andy asked after the long beats of silence.

“Yeah,” you said. “Nothing’s really keeping me in town anymore.”

Andy felt a pang in his chest. Nothing keeping you in town? Sure, your divorce was finalized – your husband had skipped town when his abuse came to light – but nothing was worth sticking around for?

“What about me?” Andy asked. It was wishful thinking, at best. Andy didn’t know why he asked the question. He had no justification for his next action either.

When you looked up at him with confusion, you had the intentions of asking him what he meant. But Andy leaned in and kissed you. His eyes were closed as his lips pressed against yours while yours were wide open with shock. But the kiss was sweet, gentle – you don’t remember being kissed like this. With your hands pressed against his chest, you meant to push him off and pull away, but your body refused – it loved the affection even if it was just an in-the-moment action on Andy’s behalf (he wasn’t sure if it was), but the kiss was nice.

Instead, your eyes fluttered closed and your hands went up to his cheeks. His beard was rough against your lips and hands, but you didn’t mind. You began to kiss him back, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

Then your brain and your conscience flared up. Just as sudden as the kiss began, it was abruptly cut short. Your mind made you pull away and with wide eyes, both you and Andy unwrapped yourselves from each other.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking a step back.

“No, no,” Andy shook his head. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have – “

“It was nothing, okay?”

Andy was taken back from your words. He wanted to argue – to tell you that it wasn’t nothing, that he felt something, and he was sure you felt it, too. But he stopped himself. He wasn’t thinking straight. The stress – whether it from his marriage or from the trial on the horizon, he didn’t know – was getting to him.

“Okay,” he finally agreed. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” you muttered. Arms crossing again. Your eyes darted around the room as you licked your lips. You could still taste him. “Well, um… you better get going.”

“Right,” Andy nodded. You walked him to the door and gave him a tight smile. “If you need any help with the moving or the packing, I’ll be happy to help. Repay the favor for the thing with my dad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Andy,” you tried to smile. You closed the door after your farewells and a hand flew to cover your mouth. Tears brimming in your eyes.

You weren’t going to take him up on that offer. The guilt was already killing you. Although abuse was a major factor in your marriage’s demise, your husband cheating with much other women was the spark that started it all.

Now, here you were. You were the other woman.

READ PART 2 HERE

#andy barber imagine #andy barber #andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #Requite #defending jacob #defending jacob imagine

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noassallclass · 4 years ago

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So my roommate spent all of today writing up a report for Critical Role as a company and I really don't know much about business stuff but I think it is fascinating. Read to the end for a wild ride.

"Okay here is my idea of how Critical Role is actually structured based on what public information exists:

At Geek and Sundry, “Critical Role” as an entity was essentially a partnership between all cast members. The only asset this partnership had was the intellectual property of CR and the only Revenue it took in was licensing that IP to Geek and Sundry. This is because Critical Role Partnership was adamant about maintaining ownership of the IP. This license then pays out between the partners. Percentage

ownership of Critical Role Partnership is divided based on money put in, and previous work done. I would be very surprised if Mercer did not own at least 25% but probably not more than 50%, and the others are probably more or less even. At this point, the cast members both draw a salary from geek and sundry as employees (or contractors), and collect drawings from the licensing of the IP and also royalties as actors. When Orion leaves, the others almost certainly force him to sell out his ownership portion and he probably gets royalties from Geek and Sundry (and later CRPLLC). At this point, this licensing agreement is the only transaction that the entity “Critical Role” actually conducts.

Geek and Sundry pays to produce, distribute, and market the show, and takes all profit. It also takes some aspects of creative control, but probably not that much, though this is listed as the reason to leave Geek and Sundry. At this point, Critical Role continues to license with Geek and Sundry’s parent company Legendary Digital Networks and incorporates their partnership into a Limited Liability Corporation “Critical Role Productions”.

The ownership split is probably kept mostly the same, unless someone decides to sell portions of their shares, but I don’t see why they would. The shareholders (or owners) at this point hire a bunch of employees. Some roles they hire themselves, like Willingham as CEO and Mercer as CCO, and some they hire outsiders like COO Ed Lopez, SVP of Marketing Rachel Romero, and VP of Business Development Ben Van Der Fluit. Those who take additional roles will take salaries for those roles, as well as a salary for acting and writing, and dividends from profits. It is likely that Lopez got a certain amount of shares because C-Suite Executives often do as bonuses because it’s non-taxed income until he sells it and it incentivizes maximizing profits because that would increase his dividends. The other employees probably did not receive shares, so as not to dilute the percentage ownership further.

Critical Role seemingly has no board of directors (it’s possible they have one which is not public), which only happens when there are so few shareholders that they can all convene and take votes (Usually less than 20 owners), implying they don’t use investors to raise cash, which is consistent with a desire to retain creative control. This also means that it is up to all of the shareholders to vote on decisions about the managers of the company instead of a board. That means the only way they could fire Willingham as Chief Executive Officer is if all of the shareholders convene and vote for his firing. Without a board of directors, which often has independent outsiders, this is typically seen as bad for the company’s interests, but is legal in this case because it’s a limited liability corporation and they do not trade on an exchange .

Over the next year or so, CRPLLC makes a new studio and Geek and Sundry gradually relinquishes the distribution rights to older episodes. At this point everyone who works towards the function of the production and distribution of shows is an employee of CRPLLC and not Legendary or Geek and Sundry. For the past couple of years, Critical Role has licensed various brand crossover products like Funko Pops and The Darkhorse Comics. Funko Pop pays CRPLLC for the character likenesses and keeps all profits. CRPLLC also produces its own merchandise like t shirts and that sexy calendar that they pay manufacturers to produce and CRPLLC makes the profit in that scenario. They also have advertising revenue, which is a straightforward revenue stream.

Throwing back to two paragraphs ago, if they don’t use investors to raise cash, how can they afford to embark on a new expensive project that wouldn’t pay out until the future? Well, they could take out a loan (ew interest), save more money in retained earnings forgoing development in other areas (what do you mean we can’t afford to redo our website?) OR

They could do an 11 million dollar kickstarter! This would allow them to retain ownership of both the company and the product, because kickstarter is essentially just buying really expensive merchandise! People will buy a 30 dollar mug if it also comes with the promise that if enough people do it, they’ll make a tv show. Kickstarter money is revenue, not financing and it’s actually against kickstarter’s rules to promise equity for backers. Instead, kickstarter backers assume the risk that investors take (albeit on a smaller individual scale) with none of the benefit besides knowing that they helped make something exist. Compare this to if I, Callie invested $11 million into CRPLLC.

If the Legend of Vox Machina completely bombs and bankrupts CRPLLC which was kickstarted: CRPLLC would have to sell off all of its assets, resolve its liabilities (pay people for work done before laying them off, pay off bank loans) and whatever is left over would be split between the owners. Do they owe you, the kickstarter backer, for not making the show? Legally no. You chose to give us that money and had to trust we would spend the money well to make a good show and we spent all our money making sure our tree leaf animation looked good and could only afford to make 2 episodes.

If the Legend of Vox Machina completely bombs and bankrupts CRPLLC and it was Calliestarted: It would still be the same, except now Callie, the person who put in a lot of money for this show, is also an owner, and at least gets a slice of that money after the debts are paid off.

If the Legend of Vox Machina is really successful and it’s kickstarted: Good job, you did it! You got a fun tv show and like a t shirt! Fun!

If the Legend of Vox Machina is really successful and it’s Calliestarted: Not only do I get my fun tv show and probably also every piece of merch that exists, I got mad paid as an owner, not just from the show itself, but as we sell more and more merchandise because I’m a part owner of the company. I then continue to make money from literally everything else the company does until I decide to sell my shares or the company goes bankrupt.

And even better news! Amazon Prime bought the streaming rights for two seasons, so now I, Callie, have even more money from that sweet sweet licensing money.

Speaking of which, it is likely that the Amazon Deal is structured as follows: Amazon pays CRPLLC to license LoVM, with the stipulation that kickstarter backers can access the first 10 episodes legally. CRPLLC pays, with Kickstarter and Amazon money, Titmouse Inc. to produce LoVM. CRPLLC makes the difference between what they paid Titmouse (variable cost, depending on ultimate cost of animating) and what Amazon paid them. Amazon makes the difference of what they paid CRPLLC and what they make at market with LoVM. Amazon is the only company that stands to profit directly from the actual product of LoVM doing well. If it does poorly, there’s the possibility it gets cancelled, meaning that CRPLLC (and maybe Titmouse if CRPLLC already commissioned the work from them) will still get paid by Amazon, but never released. It’s possible that other companies could buy the license from Amazon in this scenario. This is the risk of selling your show to another company.

CRPLLC also has one subsidiary and one associated foundation: Darrington Press LLC and The Critical Role Foundation

Darrington Press LLC is an imprint of CRPLLC created to design and produce card and board games with the Critical Role IP. DP has 3 listed employees, Ivan Van Norman as Head of Darrington Press, Darcy L. Ross as Marketing Manager, and Mercer as Creative Advisor. As a subsidiary, it is wholly owned by CRPLLC. DP pays manufacturers and contractors to design and manufacturers games and pays for its own advertising, as a separate entity from CRPLLC. DP will likely sell its products to games distributers and the Critical Role Store. If the Critical Role Store sells DP games it’s because CRPLLC bought them from DP. The relationship between DP and CPRLLC is that when DP makes a profit and pays dividends, the recipient is CPRLLC. If DP goes bankrupt and cannot pay its debts, CPRLLC is not required to pay them. CPRLLC also chooses DP’s Board of Directors, which is probably just the owners of CPRLLC. This is all very ordinary. DP has four announced games set to release in 2021, but as of yet has not released any products or made any revenue.

The Critical Role Foundation is a registered non-profit and legally distinct from CRPLLC with seemingly no employees, with Johnson as President, and 4 other Board Members: Mercer, Lopez, Romero and another person named Mark Koro, who is a figure very closely tied to critical role I will outline later. Lopez and Romero are also in a long-term relationship or perhaps marriage. It is usually considered a bad idea to have two partners on a board of directors, as a conflict of interest can arise easily. As a registered non-profit CRF’s projected breakdown of donations is 85% grants to other non-profits, 10% emergency fund allocation, and 5% admin costs (this would be where possible future employees’ salaries would come from). Board Members on non-profits traditionally don’t take salaries, but can use their role as a board member to calculate donated time as a charitable donation for tax purposes. This all seems pretty normal. It’s not stated if or how much CRPLLC itself donates to CRF, including its initial endowment, besides the donation of free advertising, as no donation matching or any other programs seem to be advertised. In terms of an initial endowment, it seems that the only money put in was immediately spent on filing fees and legal fees, meaning the initial endowment was less than $5000. As a result, CRF operates from donors and possibly is not funded at all by CRPLLC. Any money that is donated from CRPLLC’s profits to CRF would be a charitable donation and lower CRPLLC’s taxable income amount. CRF began collecting non-taxable donations in May 2019, and as of December 8, 2020 CRF has yet to publish their 2019 financial statements, so not much is publicly known of how much money is raised by CRF and if they achieved their desired breakdown.

Now to talk about Mark Koro. Koro is an executive of Governmental Affairs (some places list director and others list VP) at Qualcomm, a telecommunications technology company with an annual profit of $7.67 Billion, and is estimated to make $20 per smartphone sold. Every smartphone. Qualcomm has been sued by China, South Korea, Taiwan, the EU, and the USA for anti-competitive behaviour. Koro’s department of Governmental affairs is responsible for negotiating and bidding with governments for contracts and rights to airwave frequencies, and also lobby and develop proposals for telecommunications legislation and policy. Before this, Koro worked at the National Security Agency in their corporate relations department liaising with defence and intelligence contractors. Before this, he worked in the George H.W. Bush administration as The National Security Advance Representative. This entails preparing logistics and security for Presidential events and dispatching Secret Service Agents to respond to Presidential Threats and continued in this capacity under following administrations until 2008. Koro was also an advisor to The Deputy Director of the NSA (the second highest position in the Intelligence Agency), and was a consultant to The Lawrence Livermore National Library, which is

“self-described as a ‘premier research and development institution for science and technology applied to national security.’ Its principal responsibility is ensuring the safety, security and reliability of the nation’s nuclear weapons through the application of advanced science, engineering, and technology.”

These positions are all listed on Koro’s biography on the The United Nations website for the International Telecommunications Union Radiocommunication Sector (accessed Dec. 8, 2020). Mark Koro has no public associations with Charitable Work.

There is little online about Koro’s association with Critical Role, besides an article stating that Koro, as a fan of the show, in 2016 matched $50,000 worth of donations to 826LA. Koro’s associations with a monopolistic technology company, the NSA, Nuclear Weaponry, and multiple presidential administrations would be cause for alarm for many of CR’s fans, but if it were a purely professional relationship, it could be excused as including him for his business accumen, but Mark Koro is mutuals on twitter with all of the cast members and Brian W Foster, Britney Walloch-Key. This might seem like normal professional courtesy, but there is a lot of interaction between Koro’s account and Critical Role Employees’ personal accounts that reflect at least a close personal relationship between people that he would not interact with regularly just as a board member of a legally distinct organization."

P.S. 100% of Critical Role's Chief Officers are men in relationships with female subordinates.

#critrole critical #long post #i wont be able to answer too many questions as i am not a business major like my roommate is #its about the transparency for me #also theres more but this post is so long as it is

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

Text

The Buy In

Chapter 10: Epilogue

by @dracusfyre

"I feel like you're going to try to sell me a time share," Bucky said, studying the bland conference room Tony had reserved. It looked like probably every other conference room Bucky had ever been, as if they were all ordered out of the same catalogue; beige walls, carpeted floor that had the feeling of being beige while actually having flecks of red and blue in it, and the tables and chairs with wheels on them so they could be moved easily. Tony had even pulled down a screen and to all appearances, was setting up for a powerpoint presentation.

"It's all about presentation, Mr. Barnes," Tony said. He picked up a clicker and a red dot appeared on Bucky's chest, then started moving around in what Bucky eventually recognized as a heart shape. "Gotta know your audience and what they'll respond to. Too fancy, and they'll be scared off. Not fancy enough, and they'll feel like they're being scammed. A hotel conference room fits neatly inside that middle ground."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," Bucky said. He glanced at the clock, saw that they had a few minute before people were supposed to arrive and dipped his head for a quick kiss.

"Well, yeah," Tony started, but then there was a knock on the door. Tony opened it to see that part of the security detail started bringing in the refreshments for the meeting, coffee and donuts and croissants and other breakfast-style food that people would probably pick at and leave mostly untouched. "Natasha helped," he continued, poking at the refreshments table and rearranging everything slightly. "She's better at that side of things, the headology, as she calls it."

"I can see that." Bucky watched Tony putter. Looked like Tony was nervous, which was kind of adorable. "So you can't even give me a sneak peak at what you're talking about today?"

Tony shook his head. "For right now, you're a potential investor, not my lover."

"Ok, ok," Bucky said. He realized he was following Tony around as he puttered aimlessly and made himself stop. "So I got to see KT today. Brought him his laptop so he could start catching up on homework."

That made Tony stop rearranging the plates and napkins and turn to Bucky with a smile. "Good! So that mean's he is doing well?"

"Yep. Should be out of there soon. Any update on Rumlow?"

Tony's smile turned evil. "From what I hear, he's had a run of bad luck lately, such a shame. He lost his service pistol, which, you know, big no no. And did you know someone stole his patrol car, spray painted it, and left something unmentionable smeared on the seats? Then did the same with his personal car, which was found laying upside down in front of his apartment building?"

With a force of effort Bucky kept his face blank. "Strange."

"Very strange," Tony agreed. "Insurance didn't even pay out, mysteriously enough. Apparently they had dropped his coverage the day before and he hadn't gotten the notice yet."

"Crime in this city is getting really out of hand," Bucky said seriously. "He's lucky it wasn't something worse."

"Oh it will be, give it time."

There was that smug look again that Bucky loved, and he started to sneak another kiss when there was another knock. This time the security guard was escorting people inside, a middle-aged Black couple that looked around cautiously, like they were expecting the conference room to contain something nefarious. Bucky straightened immediately, trying to look professional, and smiled at them as Tony welcomed them inside, calling them by name and offering them a warm handshake. There was a steady stream after that, until the conference room was about half full.

"Hello everyone, let's get started," Tony said, taking a head count and looking at the clock. "All of you are here because you either were recommended by a friend or a family, or I sent you a personal invitation. Thank you for being willing to join me today for this presentation, and please save your questions for the end. As you all know, my name is Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, and in this presentation I'm going to ask you for money." Tony grinned as almost everyone laughed. "Then I'm going to tell you what you're going to get for your money, and then I'm going to explain how you're not even going to notice that your money is gone."

As interested as Bucky was in the presentation, he kept getting distracted by watching Tony effortlessly charm the room, making eye contact with each person and joking just enough to keep people interested without derailing his speech. It was a warmer, more authentic show than what Bucky had seen at the Policeman's Ball and it made Bucky's heart turn over with affection as he watched. KT had been right when he said that the buy-in speech could make you a believer; not just in the astonishing amount of benefits that Tony offered to people who agreed to the buy-in, but because Tony's enthusiasm for the project was contagious.

"So why do you need our money?" One guy interrupted. "If you've got so much of it?"

"Good question," Tony said. He leaned against one of the tables, putting his hands in his pocket and crossing his legs at the ankle. "Yeah, the majority of the start-up money came from me. Since this organization is technically a nonprofit, I get to write it all off of my taxes, the way rich people often do. But I ask for your money because if I paid for all of it, then it would belong to me, wouldn't it? The whole point of this enterprise is to build ownership and equity in the community. You own the health clinic and the child care centers, the retirement homes and the apartment complexes. Not only does it mean you get to decide what to do with them, but it means that you start having a place at the same table that all of the billionaire developers and well-connected real estate moguls do."

"But the stuff about the taxes and stuff, where we just hand it all to you, that's tax fraud, isn't it? Which is illegal?"

"Well, yes, in a way," Tony said honestly. "You avoid paying taxes the same way rich people avoid paying taxes, by finding loopholes in the tax code and driving semi-trucks through them. But also, I'm the criminal, not you. If we get caught, I'm the big bad con artist that scammed honest folks like you out of your hard earned savings. There will be a class action lawsuit after the criminal proceedings, my lawyer will fight hard but not too hard to defend my assets, then they will eventually get divided up among all my victims in the kind of feel-good, good guys win story that is made for Hallmark TV. In the mean time, my job is to help the community fund the type of social welfare projects that the government should be doing but isn't, by taking from people who don't deserve it and giving it to the people that do. Which the government should also be doing but isn't."

"So this is like, socialism," a young woman said in accented English. "Instead of paying the government taxes, we give that money to you, and you like, do all this stuff with it."

"Pretty much. Grassroots socialism with a capitalist veneer. I like to think of it as stone soup, from the kid's story."

"But why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Tony said, like it was obvious. Bucky hid his smile in his hand and hoped he didn't look too besotted; he'd sat all the way in the back for a reason. "I don't know else to say it. Why should I have so much when others have so little? I give a lot it away, because there really are so many problems that can be solved by throwing money at them, but some can't. Some need systemic change, which means empowering people, which is what I'm trying to do. That's why it's a buy-in, and not a handout." There was still some obvious reluctance among the group, and Tony's smile turned a little sad. "Look, I get it. You are used to people promising a lot and not delivering. And you think this sounds way too good to be true, right?" No one really answered, but the way they kind of avoided Tony's eyes said a lot. "Let me tell you a story.

"So I've been donating regularly to the free clinic on 17th for a while now. A few years ago, there was a kid volunteering there because he wanted to go to medical school. But he was in a shit position - his parents made too much money to qualify for the grants and needs-based scholarships, but not enough to actually afford tuition or even qualify for good student loans. So the doctor in charge of the clinic emailed me and told me to do something useful with all of the blood money I was getting from Stark Industries, and so I did. I paid for his entire education, and he came back and is currently the head physician at the rehab clinic. So if you want there to be a catch, if you need there to be a catch so that you can believe what I'm telling you, then that's the catch - you have to try to give back at least as much as you were given."

There was a long, thoughtful silence after that, and Tony wisely let it sit for a while instead of trying to fill it with words. "You don't have to answer now," he said after a few moments. "The forms that you would need to fill out for the buy-in are right here," he added, tapping a stack of papers next to him. "Take one with you, and think about it. Any last questions?"

"Yeah, I got one," the young woman said. "I heard you stole Jeff Bezos' car, is that true?"

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

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, come find me over at @marveltrumpshate where I will be participating in auctioning off TWO fanfics! One auction is a fic with art (with @massivespacewren) as WrenFyre and the other is a solo fic as Dracusfyre. All the money goes to a good cause of your choosing, so I hope to see you there!

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

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argylemnwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, about 21 months after that epilogue, about 8 months since the prologue)

Word Count: ~4400

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: A new member of the family arrives, and both Drake and Riley reflect on how much things have changed over the past 3 years.

Author’s Note: Let’s try this again, shall we? Sorry for the delay between the prologue and this chapter, but I’m much happier with the character arcs I’ve got planned now, and I think you all will enjoy the story more, too. To catch up on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

It was a quiet night in the Kensington neighborhood of Brooklyn. Anderson was curled up in his armchair, dozing lightly after his evening walk. The TV was on, the eleven o’clock news about to start any moment, and Drake was settled onto the couch, ready to watch, no matter how much Riley teased him about being “an old man” for still using the television to get his news. She was stretched out on the couch next to him, her toes tucked under his thigh. She was finishing up her work for the day, reviewing the twitter buzz for the reopening of a restaurant that hired the PR firm she worked for after a video of the former head chef going on a racist tirade surfaced. It was boring, average, and incredibly routine. It was the type of evening Drake enjoyed the most.

He knew Riley saw nights in like this as their “catch up” nights, but honestly, Drake looked forward to them a lot. Sure, in the more than two years he’d lived in New York, he’d come to find many things he loved about the city. The variety of food available at hole-in-the-wall restaurants was amazing, and the portion sizes and prices were always right. The mind games and backstabbing of court were replaced with direct, blunt friendships with Luke, Sunil, Caleb, and Omar, men he’d gotten to know at some of his different temp postings before he got hired on as a permanent employee at the law firm three months ago. And sure, it’s not like he had some great passion for reviewing and cataloging court filings and documents, but it paid the bills. And no one in his life judged him for it.

After Riley had earned her degree, she’d talked a lot about the two of them starting to save up for him to go back to school, researching which universities would take some or all of his previously-earned credits. But at some point, Drake realized that wasn’t really something he wanted. When he’d been younger, leaving Cordonia to get a Bachelor’s degree had felt like a way to establish himself as his own person, independent from the pressure of Court, separate from Liam. But now, he lived in a different city. He had a fiancée and a steady job and his own life already. He didn’t need a degree or a university experience to gain that independence.

And truth be told, with the variety of office jobs he’d held when he was still temping, he was pretty convinced that any career opportunities he could gain from having a university degree would not be jobs he actually wanted, or at least not ones he wanted any more than what he had now. He didn’t want to toil away at some corporate bullshit, striving just to inch up that ladder to get that next promotion. Plus, it turned out he was about as well-suited for office politics as he’d been for courtly politics, which probably shouldn’t have been a surprise. Additionally, if he went back to school, they would have to pay for six semesters, not just two like they’d had to for Riley. Earning that degree just seemed like a total waste of time and money.

Instead, they were slowly saving up for a variety of things these days. Their real honeymoon, not their would-be honeymoon they went on after they postponed their wedding. A road trip out to the West Coast. A bigger apartment for when they had kids. In all honesty, it turns out that he didn’t so much care what his job was. He wasn’t like Liam who found purpose and satisfaction from his work. Nor was he going to be like Maxwell and turn some zany endeavor into an honest-to-god career writing made-for-TV movies. And he did not have anywhere near the skill set and connections that Hana had, allowing her to open a international bakery chain that turned all its profits into disaster relief donations or grants and low interest small business loans for women in impoverished countries. If his job was able to allow him to take care of those he loved, he was happy enough. Taking care of his family and spending time with them was always going to be the most important thing to him.

His family was on his mind often these days. Savannah was just over two weeks from her due date, and Drake was excited to actually get to know his niece or nephew from the start this time. He and Riley had a trip out to Cordonia scheduled next month, soon enough after the due date that they would get to meet the baby early, but not so early that they would be totally unwelcome visitors. Riley could only get one week off, but Drake was staying for an extra week after she left to spend a little more time with his niece or nephew. He figured it was Savannah’s way of trying to make up for all the time he missed with Bartie when he was little. Regardless, he was looking forward to meeting the second baby Beaumont.

In general, life was just good at the moment. Honestly, things had been good for a while. It was a feeling Drake had never imagined experiencing so consistently. But his life was stable, he knew he and Riley were on a good path, and he had a handful of close friends, both in the city and in Cordonia. His job was tolerable for the pay he earned. He really didn’t feel like he could ask for much more. So he watched the news with a smile on his face, as Riley sat next to him, replying to the occasional tweet.

By the time the newscast got to weather, Drake was yawning. He knew it would just provide more ammo for Riley to tease him about being old, but he couldn’t help it. It was a weeknight, it was late, and he got up before she did.

“Is it bedtime at the retirement home?” she quipped almost on cue, her eyes not leaving her phone screen as she nudged him with her foot.

Drake just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. You coming to bed soon?”

Riley shrugged. “Not right away. In a little bit.”

He nodded as he stood up, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he passed on his way to the bathroom and bedroom.

“Wait, you forgot your phone,” Riley called out. He spun and saw her extending her arm back over the arm of the couch toward him, her eyes still glued on her own screen. He stepped forward to grab it, but it started buzzing in her hand, clearly startling her as she let out a little yelp and brought the phone forward to see who was calling.

“Why is Maxwell calling you at… 6:25 in the morning?” she asked, quickly doing the time zone math.

He just shrugged as he took the phone from her and swiped to answer the call. “Maxwell, what are you doing up?”

“Break out the cigars! It’s a girl!”

It took Drake a few seconds to mentally catch up to Maxwell’s statement. “Wait, you mean Savannah-”

“Had the baby? Yup! Just under 3 kilos and screaming up a storm,” said Maxwell with a chuckle, “They’re still deciding on a name, but I think it’ll be Caroline Annabelle Beaumont. At least that’s what they were leaning to when I stepped out to give them some privacy and give you a call.”

“I thought someone was going to call me when she went into labor?”

“Well… Savannah kind of forbid anyone from calling you. She said that you would just worry too much and would be blowing up her phone when she needed to be focused on other things. She pointed out that it wouldn’t really make a difference, either, with you being in the Big Apple.”

Drake shook his head and sank back onto the couch. “Unreal.”

“Hey, I vouched for you, man! I told her that you would be fine, but her word was kind of final, you know? Given the situation and all. Anyway, she promised she’d give you a call when it was all over.”

“So why are you the one calling me then?”

“Ouch, I’m hurt. I thought we were best friend roomies!” Maxwell said with a ton of dramatic flair. Drake could practically picture him clutching his shirt in mock pain.

“That’s not…” he started with an eye roll, “What I meant was, why isn’t Savannah calling me to share the news herself?”

“She… well… she had to be rushed back for an emergency c-section.”

“What?” Drake felt his heart rate pick up instantly, even though he knew in his mind that whatever had been the danger was likely resolved at this point.

“Yeah… I had stepped out to the hallway with Dad when they were checking to see how, er… dilated she was, when suddenly the midwife was calling out ‘Cord!’ and in an instant there were dozens of staff running into her room.”

“And you’re just now telling me?” Drake growled out. He felt Riley’s hand on his knee. He knew he should probably put the phone on speaker so that Riley could hear more than one half of this conversation, but he was too focused on not missing any details to risk pulling the phone away from his ear.

“It all happened so quickly. One second she was joking with me in between contractions, the next she was being wheeled out of the room and a nurse was explaining to Bertrand the gear he was going to have to put on to go into the OR. Before Dad and I could even figure out what was going on, Bertrand was back and told us it was a girl.”

“He left her alone during everything?”

“Apparently, the only risk was to the baby, not to Savannah, but since she was attempting natural labor, they had to knock her out, I guess? Anyway, he was with her when she woke up, holding their little girl. I don’t know, the details kind of went over my head, but everyone is happy and healthy now!”

Drake just let out a massive sigh as he ran a hand over his face. It was a lot to process, but he didn’t think Maxwell would have told him all this info and then lied about Savannah and the baby being okay. He sometimes still felt strange, choosing to live so far away from his sister and Liam. He knew it wasn’t rational. He had certainly been more supportive to Savannah through this pregnancy than her first since he actually knew she was pregnant this time, but part of him felt guilty anytime something major happened and he wasn’t right there.

They were thoughts he didn’t like bringing up with Riley, because he wasn’t sure how to phrase it so that it didn’t sound like he resented her for the fact that he lived in a different country. He just had this feeling it would come across that way, when that wasn’t how he felt at all. But trying to work through the storm of emotions that bubbled up whenever something major happened to his friends or family in Cordonia when Maxwell had called to just let him know he had a niece was probably not the wisest decision. So, he swallowed his emotions down and focused on the good news. His sister had a little girl and it sounded like everyone was fine now.

“Well, tell Savannah and Bertrand congratulations and that I’ll call them in the morning here, alright? And thanks for calling me to let me know.”

“Of course! It’s my duty as part of our uncle brotherhood!”

“Don’t think for a second I’m going to start using that phrase, Maxwell.”

“I’ll convince you yet; you’ll see.”

Drake just shook his head as he said, “Bye, Maxwell.”

“Bye, Drake. Send my love to Riley. And prepare for a barrage of photos from yours truly.”

Drake placed his phone on the couch next to him and let out a sigh before facing Riley. Her phone was now tucked away somewhere as she stared at him, eyes wide and full of concern.

“What happened?”

“Savannah had the baby. A little girl.”

“What had you upset?”

“There were some complications, but he says everything’s fine now.”

Riley snaked her arms around him and gave him a little squeeze. “I’m sure it is. Is he gonna send some pictures?”

Drake nodded, and Riley curled up fully next to him on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder, waiting for the photos of his niece. Their niece. Kind of.

He glanced down at the ring on her left hand that rested on his knee. Not for the first time, he wondered if they made the right call postponing their wedding for Savannah’s sake. It didn’t feel fair, that Bertrand and Savannah had it all - married with two kids - while they had put plans on pause. And sure, both Savannah and Bertrand had thanked them profusely. But watching as they moved forward with their lives while he and Riley had to plan and save and budget all over again just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sometimes, it felt like he should have just told his sister just how insane her ask was. He and Riley would have been married for almost eight months by this point. Maybe they would be talking about starting their own family. But deep down, Drake knew that nothing good came from playing the “what if” game. So he tried to just soak in the moment, at peace and at home with Riley, taking in pictures of Savannah’s new baby. He was happy, his sister and her new baby were fine, and his life was steady. He couldn’t really ask for anything more, could he?

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

Riley kicked her legs against the exam table and tugged her sweatshirt a little closer as she checked the time on her phone again. Dr. Mehta wasn’t running that late, but Riley was just a little anxious about this appointment. When she’d called to schedule her next depo injection, she was surprised that she’d been booked for a longer appointment with Dr. Mehta herself, not Val, Dr. Mehta’s nurse. She wasn’t sure if something was wrong or why this was happening. All she knew is that she needed to get her depo before their trip to Cordonia. It would be too late to wait until she got back.

She knew Drake was excited to get back and see everyone, as well as meet his new niece, Caroline. But, truth be told, Riley always found it a bit strange being back in Cordonia, even more so now that Hana had moved to London full time. Even though she’d been a nobody in New York for over two years, she still got recognized every time she and Drake had been back there. Last visit, they’d somehow even attracted enough attention that The Ruby Rise, one of the tabloids there, had run a piece speculating they had come back to enter into some sort of thruple with Liam. The whole thing had been a total mind fuck. Being back just always felt a little bit like stepping into a time capsule or a portal to this very weird time period of her life, one where she ended up grabbing Drake and bolting for the exit as soon as she could.

She supposed that wasn’t an entirely fair comparison. After all, it’s not like she considered her time in Cordonia a negative one. For the most part, she’d had a fun experience, and most of her closest friends came from that time in her life. But it still felt weird, returning to the world of balls and galas and courtly politics where she’d been on her best behavior for months. Now that she wasn’t formally a part of that circle, she didn’t hold back from swearing or snarking when she was there. It always caught at least a few people off guard and fully scandalized Bertrand consistently. Olivia had remarked at Savannah and Bertrand’s wedding that the potty-mouthed, bitchy version she was finally fully seeing was somehow more and less annoying at the same time.

Two sharp knocks jolted Riley out of her thoughts. She turned her head to the exam room door as Dr. Mehta entered with a smile, a clipboard in her hand.

“Sorry about the wait,” she said with a smile as she plopped down on the stool by the desk and rolled over to sit in front of Riley. “And you don’t need to be up there if you don’t want to. We just need to chat.”

Riley frowned at that, but Dr. Mehta must have noticed that, because she let out a little chuckle. “Nothing bad, I promise! I just wanted to talk to you about your contraceptive options. Honestly, I should have brought this up at your appointment back in December. I just did my math wrong when I was reviewing your chart then.”

“I’m really happy on the depo, doctor.”

She gave Riley a little smile as she said, “And I’m glad. But unfortunately Depo Provera is only safe to use for two years. And we’ve reached that point.”

Riley felt a wave of panic rush through her. “I can’t go back on the pill! I was always terrible about remembering to take it.” It was the truth. Back years ago, she’d been awful about remembering to take her pill, and it was almost never at the same time of day.

“That’s fine. You aren’t my only patient who struggles with that, I promise. That’s why I wanted to talk about other long term options for you. I’m assuming no plans to try for pregnancy in the next couple of months?”

“God no!”

She laughed at that. “Just making sure! I think for you, either an IUD or an implant are going to be the best options.” She passed Riley a couple of pamphlets and went over the relevant details, side effects, and benefits.

“So, if you want to think about what you want and give my office a call in the next couple of days, we can get you in next week,” Dr. Mehta concluded.

Riley shook her head. “I’m traveling out of the country next week.”

Dr. Mehta tilted her head back and forth a couple of times, then checked her watch. “Well, I doubt we’ll be able to get you in for an IUD placement this week, but if you have a little time now, I can place an implant today.”

So, maybe a half hour later, Riley found herself walking out of the OBGYN office suite, a thick bandage wrapped around her bicep, pleased that she was set for birth control for the next few years. Not only was it one less thing to worry about, but it felt like the sort of thing a responsible adult did. After living so long with no consideration for the future, flying by the seat of her pants, diving into massive decisions without a second of thought, she knew that times like this, where she planned for her long-term, represented a decent amount of progress.

It was strange, in a way, to be consistently thinking about the future. For so long, her life had been just her scraping by, hoping to claw her way into a slightly better situation. Getting to go and live with her mother again when she was in a shitty foster home. Getting to go and live in a foster home when her mother relapsed hard or when she had a shitty, creepy dealer as a boyfriend. Getting a new job that would pay more. Always scrambling, never dreaming beyond her next move.

But now, she had a white collar job that paid her a college graduate salary, she had a nice apartment, and she lived with her dog and her fiancé. No one would guess that she’d lived off food stamps and free school lunches and had bounced around from couch to couch and then from foster home to foster home. She lived the life of a well-adjusted woman, and that meant considering the long-term, not just the short term. And today she’d done just that. She felt responsible and capable. It was a nice feeling.

She’d been all ready to brag about her very mature decision, but when she got back to their apartment, things were chaotic. Anderson was bouncing off the walls, and Drake was livid on the phone with the airline about their upcoming flight, so she took out the dog, and by the time she got back, Drake basically had dinner on the table. All thoughts about her birth control were pushed out of her mind through dinner and some heated hands of poker, until she was getting ready for bed that evening. She was tossing her sweatshirt into the hamper and Drake was by the dresser he’d painted lime green for her. As she got undressed, he caught sight of the bandage on her arm for the first time.

“Riley, what happened?” he asked, darting over, eyes locked on her left arm as he sank down on the edge of the bed to inspect it closer.

She couldn’t help but smile. His reaction was so predictable. “Nothing.”

“But your arm…” He gently traced his fingers over her bandage, as if he would find some evidence of some horrible injury on her, something he somehow missed and needed to correct.

“New birth control. Bandage comes off tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.” He still seemed leery and continued his inspection of her arm. “Why’d you change? Was something wrong?”

Riley shrugged. “My doctor said that I had reached my limit for depo. Besides this one lasts three years. Seemed mad convenient.”

Drake’s fingers stopped their path with her words, his eyes jumping from the bandage up to her face. “Three years?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, just stood up, walked back to the dresser, and started rifling through his drawer.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, Liu.”

“Clearly it’s something,” she said, joining him by the dresser, forcing herself into his personal space until he made eye contact with her again. “You’ve never given a shit what I’ve done for birth control before. What’s up, Drake?”

He shook his head a little before returning to rifling through the drawer, flipping through old t-shirt after old t-shirt. “I told you - it’s nothing. Since you’re the one who has to deal with any side effects or whatever, it’s obviously your call. Have you seen my blue Cordonian football shirt?”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t change the subject.”

He took a moment before he responded, closing his eyes for just a second and taking a deep breath. “It’s stupid.” He opened his eyes again and gave his head a little shake, his eyes still glued on the drawer. “I just… I don’t know, I guess…”

“You want kids within three years.” She finished his thought for him, knowing without a doubt that was what he was struggling to tell her.

Drake finally looked up at her and shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I have a timeline or anything, but… I don’t know. Three years is a long ways off, you know?”

She did know. “I agree; a lot can change in three years. In fact, three years ago, you were just some rude asshole who clearly thought I was a crown chaser.”

He rolled his eyes at that before quipping back, “I just didn’t realize someone recklessly impulsive enough to hop on a private jet with a couple of guys she’d known for less than 24 hours could survive to be your age. It was really a compliment, me assuming you at least had a goal in mind.”

“When did you realize that I was just flying by the seat of my pants and clearly had no plan whatsoever?”

“When you told Olivia you were going to slap her. That degree of lack of diplomacy just can’t be found in someone who knows how to become queen.”

“But you still thought I was going to be queen at that point.”

“I mean, I just assumed you were going to stumble your way into the role, but do you really want to get into why I thought you would be queen?”

She shook her head, laughing lightly as she placed her hands on his chest and nudged him backwards to their bed, straddling his lap as he sat down on the end. “No, I think the less said there, the better. Besides, we both know I would have been the world’s shittiest queen.”

Drake opened his mouth to respond to that, but Riley didn’t give him a chance, leaning in and kissing him. After a moment, he deepened the kiss, sliding one hand to her shoulder and running another through her hair. But a few seconds later, he pulled back slightly, his hand sliding over the bandage on her arm. He stared at it, tracing his fingers over it again and again.

“It’s an implant, Drake. I can get it removed if for some reason we are ready for kids in two years or whatever,” Riley said, sliding her fingers under his chin, redirecting his eyes from that damn bandage back to her face. “It’s not a big deal, okay?”

He swallowed roughly, but then nodded. “Okay, Liu.” And then his lips were back on hers, his hands working under her tank top, sliding it up bit by bit. She rolled her hips down against him, ready to move on from their conversation. She could think of far more enjoyable ways to spend the rest of their evening than the minutiae of her birth control choices after all. And as they tumbled backwards onto their bed, she tried not to think about the fact that Drake avoided touching her left arm for the rest of the night.

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @iaminlovewithtrr @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @shz256 @thequeenchoices @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr au fanfic #trr #choices fanfiction

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gwoongi · 5 years ago

Text

(abandoned) it’s late, just stay

john wick / reader genre: sugar daddy au rating: general, mature themes words: 2.4k warnings: sugar daddy relationship, slight john wick 2 spoilers i guess a/n: this 1 is for me. i wrote her in a heat,,,she’s literally not finished. but im adding her to my online portfolio 4 the memories. Also fyi the profile was made before i indulged in seeking arrangements and as a sugar baby i know that ur not allowed to mention 90% of brooklynbaby’s bio in ur bio but who cares man this is fiction and im making it up

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

Sometimes, John doesn’t really know how he gets himself into awkward situations.

The first few occasions, he figured it was merely a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. While, actually, this always worked out in his favour, John began to notice that it was more frequent that he ended up at a bar with some people he didn’t really know, or being invited to a baby shower as the date of a woman he had never even met before. Granted, John enjoyed company whenever he could get it, and whenever it avoided conflict; however socialism has never been his strongest asset. No, he simply prefers silent gestures or glances across rooms, ‘eye conversations’ where he says hello and nothing else for the remainder of the evening.

“You just need to loosen up a bit,” is what Addy had told him, whilst slipping him a glass of straight Bourbon. It had been a relatively quiet evening in the Continental, and just when John thought he could have five minutes of peace and quiet, Addy has slipped in his line of sight. “You know, go out. Make new friends.”

“You’re my friend,” John replied. He made no room to elaborate on that statement, swallowing the contents of the drink and pushing it back to her with a short nod. She sighed and rolled her eyes, doing her job.

“No, you know what you really need?” He didn’t answer, glancing at her through his hair as she filled his drink and rested her weight on her elbows. Instantly, John didn’t like the feeling in his stomach when Addy raised her eyebrows suggestively, tugging on her bottom lip with newfound excitement: “I think you need to get laid.”

And when John scoffed with humour, she tried again, “and not like, laid as in you have a one night stand. No- hear me out, John! You should invest in a sugar baby. You know, someone you can spend time with when you’re not doing the dirty work for everybody else. It’s fun, and frisky, and also means you can start spending some of the millions you have stashed somewhere not being used.”

She tutted like a scolding mother, “Selfish boy.” Addy then smiled, “Maybe instead of retirement, what you really need is something to help you unwind.”

John scoffed, gulping back the Bourbon. “I’m married.”

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

That’s really all the thinking he had done on the subject of John- John fucking Wick- investing in a sugar baby. He simply took it in stride, almost complimented by the assumption that he was attractive and rich enough to have someone leaning on him for money and sex, and stored it away for future thought when he was lost and drunk. John never actually considered the possibility of “putting his bills to good use” until fucking Santino D’Antonio decided to light a bonfire inside his house. Having lost virtually everything related to Helen, he found himself back at the Continental, back to listening to Addy sympathetically give her condolences and five seconds later, introducing him to Seeking Arrangements.

John doesn’t know why he’s doing this, staring at the laptop screen that smiles at him. For circumstances, Addy had loaned him her laptop for the evening he spends at the Continental, and he’s too busy browsing the elaborately made profiles that he barely registers the fact that he is still wearing his suit. He pulls at the cuffs of his blazer and is midway through taking it off when he stumbles across a profile- one of which is oddly amusing- titled brooklynbaby. He racks his mind for the reference but can’t seem to place it.

“A sugar baby suggests that I sleep with them, and as I said,” John had mentioned back in the bar, “I’m married.”

Addy had grabbed his hands and groaned, “Look- you might surprise yourself. And, I’m not suggesting that you throw your wife away for somebody new. I’m just saying you need to...make use of yourself. Honestly, you’re too sexy to be stored away like this. Most sugar babies are dumb and unobservant, they won’t even know who you are.”

brooklynbaby makes an adorably hilarious first impression, and John is hesitant to browse her profile. If he wanted to “make use of himself” by investing all of his personal time into somebody who in truth wanted him for his dick and his bank balance, then it needed to be somebody at least near to his wavelength. Somebody who was smart, but clueless at the same time, and somebody who was the complete opposite of Helen. The last thing he needed on top of a handful of a baby was the guilt of moving on. But still, even when he pinned her tab and returned to scrolling through the profiles, John realised that most sugar babies were simply trolls hidden behind pretty pictures, or girls who wanted money for pleasure and not for need.

He went back to brooklynbaby. Three times. Three times, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a quiet, “Oh, fuck it,” and favoriting her account, and pressing to send a message.

Even online, John was never great with words. He typed, and backspaced, and typed again, trying to come up with something interesting to make up for the bland profile he made around thirty minutes ago.

From: johnwick So. You like dogs?

If Addy were here, she would have slapped him.

Almost immediately after it sends, John lets out a frustrated noise and tears his gaze away from the screen. Dating just wasn’t like how it was when he met Helen. Why did everything have to be so complicated, and mysterious, and why the hell does he even have to waste his money on somebody when he could be saving this money to eventually, whenever the day comes, retire? John wrestles with the dilemma of deleting the whole account when a notification bell rings through the laptop speakers.

From: brooklynbaby yes, I love dogs!!! :D (typing) do you have a dog?

John breathes a sigh of relief.

From: johnwick Yes. I do.

From: brooklynbaby oh, great. :) (typing)

John’s leg begins to bounce quickly, the table wavering with the glass on top, like an earthquake. Suddenly, brooklynbaby stops typing and John stills. Why did she stop? Did he do something wrong? Honestly, women are so hard to please nowadays.

From: brooklynbaby want to be my sugar daddy?

Never mind.

From: johnwick I would.

From: brooklynbaby cool

Neither him or brooklynbaby says anything for a few moments, and John doesn’t notice. After-all, he is still a working man, busy with life and revenge and trying to stay alive for more than three seconds. When he goes back to the laptop and sees no reply, he frowns.

From: johnwick I am sorry. I really don’t know what I’m doing. What am I supposed to say?

He makes a mental reminder to have words with Addy later.

From: brooklynbaby /(*u*)/ you’re cute we could make dinner reservations and talk over terms if you’d like!!! i say reservations because they’re fancy and if anything goes wrong, we can pretend we’re… business partners? discussing business?

Without even really realising, John finds himself laughing shortly, settling back into the chair. All of this feels weird, as in typing to a stranger he’s planning to spend his money on and occasionally fuck. John quickly revisits her profile and spends four minutes analysing her profile picture. If this is her, then she’s really very beautiful. A steal.

From: johnwick When are you free for dinner?

From: brooklynbaby hmm well i’m dogsitting tomorrow, but i can be free for the day after!!!! is that okay ^_^

From: johnwick That would be fine. [Address] at 7pm, does that work for you?

brooklynbaby pauses.

From: brooklynbaby omg am i gonna have to dress fancy?

From: johnwick Don’t feel pressured. I only own black.

From: brooklynbaby well….guess i’ll bring out like one of my old uni party dresses :( but you have to promise not to judge me!!!

John laughs again. At some point during the evening, he ends up with a planned dinner reservation at one of the most expensive restaurants in Brooklyn, and he’s also 2 grand poorer thanks to the generous donation in brooklynbaby’s bank account for a nice evening outfit.

When John returns the laptop to Addy the following morning, he was admittedly expecting the rant that followed. She had glared at the laptop being handed back over the bar and refused to serve him until he came up with a reasonably valid excuse as to why he wasn’t putting himself out there for a bit of company. John had blinked with an unimpressed look and drummed his fingers.

“I have dinner reservations with someone tomorrow at 7pm. Also- can I have a drink?”

But of course, with work being as tedious as ever and with his whole day being completely ruined by a blood stained shirt and poor room service for the first time in his many years of frequenting the Continental, John didn’t amuse himself with brooklynbaby until he logged onto the site on his phone, and saw that she had messaged thrice during the day. He almost felt guilty, until he saw a string of numbers at the end of the last message. He deemed it less necessary to read her above messages and instead went right to texting.

brooklynbaby ok. so should i just ask for mr john wick when i get to this restaurant??? sorry for so many texts im just kinda nervous

me Yes. I booked under my name and I will be waiting for you when you arrive. Why are you nervous? Didn’t you ask me to be here?

brooklynbaby well if we’re going to be technical then YOU asked me to dinner first :P and im nervous because i have nooo idea who you are send a picture?

John sank into bed.

me Maybe I like the element of surprise.

brooklynbaby seems a lil unfair that you get to see me but i dont get to see you :( ive seen ur dog before you thats saying something

me You could have used any image. If we’re going to be technical, I don’t even know your name, or if that is really you in the image.

John really hadn’t been expecting a full blown nude image at 4:15pm in the afternoon, but he will admit that it was nevertheless what he needed to break some steam. He had arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes earlier than expected, but that’s okay, Mr Wick. Right this way! Now that he was sitting here, at an empty table overlooking Brooklyn and the lights, with an already ordered bottle of wine, John could understand and relate to the first date nerves. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since-

brooklynbaby uhhh im kind of here like ten minutes early should i wait outside for you :3

He laughs, mostly to himself.

me I’m already up here. I ordered a rosé, is that alright?

brooklynbaby YES IM RUNNING

And, surprising himself also, John had clammed up and reached for his glass. Thankfully, the owner of this restaurant knew John by face and order, because, after-all, this had been his go-to with Helen. These days, he doesn’t have time to go out to new places and eat new things, and so had panicked, and picked a place with sentimental value, and a history of good food. He gulped back his glass of Bourbon and waited until the door at the other side of the room opened meekly, and he tried to appear vacant as the waiter led a woman across the room and towards him.

“Your date, Mr Wick.”

He left curtly and brooklynbaby followed his body as he left, her feet firmly glued to the floor as her head looked back over her shoulder. John took this as an opportunity to look at her body, covered in a beautiful dress he felt proud of paying for. Finally, brooklynbaby looked towards him and paused, observing him and his clearly surprising appearance. John then remembered the gash on his cheekbone and the way he probably looked very off-putting with an unshaven face and long hair, but brooklynbaby smiled softly and raised her brows, beating him to helping her in her chair as she quickly sat down and looked at his glass.

“How did you know I liked beards?”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t.”

brooklynbaby rolled her eyes with a grin. “Of course you didn’t.” She looked up, then, properly taking in his face. John did the same, looking at every feature present and coming to the quick conclusion that yes, she was definitely the woman in the pictures, and yes, she was one of the most gorgeous humans he had ever seen on planet Earth since Helen herself.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said honestly. “But, more than my expectations. I don’t believe I’ve really introduced myself- I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

He tried it out in his head. Y/N. Y/N L.N, Y/N L/N, Y/N Wick-

“John,” he replied and she sniggered and rested her chin in her palms.

“You’re seriously so handsome,” she complimented. “Are you sure you’re not married, or something?”

Her gaze panned to his hands where she noticed the wedding band, and for a moment, she hesitated. John wasn’t ashamed of the ring, nor embarrassed to be seen wearing it. He toyed with it on his finger, looking at her from across the table. “It’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded meekly. “I see.” She cleared her throat, “divorce? Planned divorce? Affair?”

“No, I’m widowed,” he tried out a joke, but she only looked more uncomfortable. Her mouth gaped and she fumbled for words.

“Oh, John, I’m really sorry- no, really, I’m so sorry,” she stumbled, and John watched her carefully across the table. “God, how fucking insensitive. Sorry, I guess that just. Wow, that never really crossed my mind. That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” John said, finding finality in that sentence. “I’m trying to move on from it.”

Y/N nodded sympathetically. “No, yeah, wow, I get it. Completely. I...hope I live up to great expectations, then?”

John smiled and looked past her, noticing the waiter rounding the corner with the bottle of rose. “You’re getting there, Miss L/N.”

#imagine if i was good and finished this it would be glorious #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick scenario #john wick imagine #john wick smut #john wick sugar daddy #john wick 2 #unfinished #gwoongi

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clevercatchphrase · 4 years ago

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2020 Year Review~

2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.

Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!

So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;

Finish paying off that last student loan

Put more stuff on my redbubble

Illustrate my own fan fics

Sew at least one stuffed animal

Make an enamel pin

Read one new book a month

Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make

Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch

Boost my patreon

Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~

Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?

Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)

Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.

Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)

Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:

The Hive Queen

The Poison Jungle

Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer

Dealing With Dragons

Searching For Dragons

Calling on Dragons

Talking to Dragons

The Bronze Dragon Codex

The Brass Dragon Codex

The Black Dragon Codex

The Red Dragon Codex

The Silver Dragon Codex

Dragon Strike, and

Hatching Magic

To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)

Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.

Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.

And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)

Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~

ON TO 2021!

I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;

Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)

Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it

Script TDV

Finish Scripting Ghost Switch

Build A Comic Buffer

Sew 1 Stuffed Animal

Finish 1 Song Comic

Make another Enamel Pin

Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)

Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics

Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.

1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)

2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)

3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?

4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.

5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)

6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.

7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~

8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)

9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)

11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~

Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.

Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.

For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.

I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)

Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.

I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.

I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.

Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.

I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.

I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)

I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)

Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)

Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.

Good night.

#long post #new year's resolutions #year review #year retrospective

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viostormcaller · 5 years ago

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Thinking about it, it kinda sucks just how little new horizons has.

Like... I love the game to pieces and maybe this is just bc im in a shitty mood (which i am) but like... god this is gonna be long and ranty and I'm sorry in advance that mobile tumblr doesnt have the read more feature

For starters, holidays are all scheduled on the company's terms, meaning in 7+ years or so there will be no more in-game holidays because by then they'll probably be thinking about/getting ready to release the next installment of the series on whatever console is out at the time and they won't want to update new horizons anymore. And adding onto this, you need the internet to download the updates. What happens to the players who don't have internet?? Can they just never experience the holidays like bunny day and toy day and turkey day? That takes a HUGE part of the fun of the series out right off the bat. Sometimes making everything rely on the internet is a bad idea. Idk if anyone can like tell me if having no internet means you can't take part in the holidays, but like... god if that's true thats really sad.

They recently took out the hybrid flower and big fish islands, which makes no sense whatsoever why they would do that to a game that has so little, but ok?? It's not like that feature was hindering the gameplay any

There's a lot of furniture but Not a Lot of Furniture, you get me? They took out EVERY set except the classic set (renamed "antique") that you can buy for an insanely high price, and the log and wooden block sets that you can craft, but other that that it's all unrelated items that aren't part of any set, aside from the cute set and diner and throwback sets which as far as I can remember are the only other sets you can buy in the game. No alpine, no ranch, no minimalist, no princess or gracie, no modern or sleek, none of that. And 90% of all the buy-only furniture in the game is just the color variants. You can't even customize them! And it's hard as fuck to find the color variants you want, much less for completing a furniture set

And speaking of which, your starting villagers don't get their default house interiors. Your first three + your two starters from the tutorial days have the same generic layouts. You NEVER see what their houses are supposed to look like, and even if you give them the wallpaper and flooring they're supposed to have (if you figure that out online somewhere), their house doesn't change (I tested this with Sherb and was kinda disappointed).

And stuff is so EXPENSIVE. I know it adds a challenge but my final loan was NEVER 1 mil+ bells in New Leaf. And you can't even expand the extra first floor rooms you get. I'm literally getting less for WAY more. The biggest rooms you get are the basement and upstairs rooms. The first floor rooms aside from the main room really don't have a lot of space and with the different furniture they DO offer, I don't have a lot of room to put things in. But it's not like I can even afford it anyway -- just a freaking air conditioner was 63,000 bells. In New Leaf it was 2500. That's a MASSIVE jump. And the kitchen items are so freaking expensive, as well.

And speaking of houses, for someone who was literally in the real estate industry in the last game, tom nook adds very few house exterior options. And the even more shitty thing is that a lot of the colors straight up don't match. They couldn't even add a plain white roof.

God and the fucking DIY recipes. I know I've said this before on my other tumblr but the RNG for this game is the worst I've ever fucking seen. There is no reason why, two months into the game, I can be given a recipe for a simple DIY bench, which EVERYONE LEARNS IN THE TUTORIAL. Who the fuck am I giving it to?! No one, because literally every player knows it already, and you can't gift diy recipes to villagers! And I keep getting repeats of recipes. My villagers give me fruit DIYs all the time, it's so rare for me to get any new ones. And two days in a row I've gotten the recipe for the deer head mount thing from the same villager. New recipes should 100% take the priority before repeats. This game is slow paced, sure, but that's just frustrating. It doesn't make me excited to learn more recipes, it makes me feel like I'm never gonna learn any new ones because I'll get the same fruit DIYs for a week straight.

And speaking of which, you can't put trees, bushes, or flowers in your storage, which to me makes literally no sense. I can fit a giant ass fountain in my storage but I can't put a flower plant? Really? And speaking of storage, for a game that added 300 whole slots for mail instead of the usual 10, I will never understand why they decided to halve the amount of items a player can order a day from the nook shopping, AND make it so that it takes a whole day to get there instead of making deliveries at 9 am and 5 pm like in New Leaf.

And the fact that they made it so hard to get non native fruit and flowers and shit??? Like they at LEAST added Lief so flowers aren't as much of an issue anymore, but you actually have to travel to other people's islands just to get all the fruits?? I know you have to do the same thing in New Leaf but the reason why this is an issue for me is because you have to pay for online access, meaning most of those nook miles for planting all the fruits are locked behind a paywall unless your villagers can gift them to you. And your mom, when you first start the game, has a chance of giving you the one fruit that's on the non-native fruit mystery island, meaning you'll only get ONE new fruit and not two separate ones (for example, my sis got pears from mom but her non native fruit islands have cherries i believe. I got pears from mom and my fruit islands also have pears. Doesnt help that that's the one fruit i hate lmao). They also took OUT a bunch of fruits, like mangoes, durians, lemons, bananas, lychees, persimmons...

And the fact that your nook miles rewards are ISLAND LOCKED. That is the WORST SHIT. Not everyone has the ability to play with others, bc no internet or no money for the subscription every month. Not everyone WANTS to play with others bc maybe they get social anxiety (like me, which is why i havent asked for things that are impossible for me to get even though i want them for my island or house), or maybe they simply just don't want to. But the fact that each island has their own color variants of the same goddamn rewards that CANNOT BE CHANGED makes me so upset. I do not want nor should I have to rely on others to get the items I want because my game doesn't have my preferred color variations. And it's not like I'm far enough in the game to have anything worth trading for said items, nor do I have the bells.

And Isabelle does next to fucking nothing and I'm really irked about how they made her character in this game. Yeah she's cute, but that's ALL she is. She became more ditzy than anything else. She doesn't let you know about visitors in the town or the plaza or if a bridge or incline was built bc of a completed donation goal. Like really useful info to know would be if Flick or CJ is in town or who is selling stuff in the plaza. Flavor text is nice but if that's all you say 24/7 it loses its charm. In New Leaf she was helpful and hardworking and super focused and on top of things. Idk why they changed that aspect of her. I know her role in New Horizons isn't as big as it was in New Leaf, but still.

And then there's glitches that STILL haven't been patched (as far as I know anyway), like the game-breaking villager corruption glitch (which you'd think nintendo would have made a priority but they're too busy removing other features it seems) or the house exterior glitch.

And it's bad enough that your game saves to your fucking system a la Fantasy Life. But even WORSE, no one can have separate islands on one console. It's not enough to own two copies of New Horizons. Each player has to own one copy of the game and a whole new Switch just so they can play on their own islands. Parents can't usually afford that (aka $360 for each kid give or take) so for a game marketed towards kids, I don't know why they thought that was a smart move (well, I DO know, and that's because money, but still). And to top it all off, cloud saves are not supported normally. If you lose your game or your switch and aren't subscribed to nintendo online, well, it looks like all your progress is gone! And there's nothing you can do about it. And they directly claimed that they did this just so people can't manipulate the game because it's supposed to be played in real time. But people can still fucking time travel by setting the system's clock! They achieved nothing except to make the players frustrated!!! If you make a game you need to accept that the player is going to play how THEY want to. You shouldn't try to make everyone conform to the way YOU want them to play. That just makes you a controlling asshole and the game loses a lot of its fun.

This game was 60 bucks and they took so long to make it and we ended up with less than we got in New Leaf. The main thing they gave us was a shit ton more clothing items (which I really like). Like I said, I love this game to pieces and it's actually one of my favorite games right now. There's so much I love about it -- I certainly don't hate it or anything. But this game has SO MANY flaws, a lot of which are needless. And I think the kid in me just misses the days where you can pay for a game and get the whole game right away. No updates in tiny batches, no content locked behind paywalls, no day one patches, no reliance on internet connection and multiplayer... mainstream companies have all gone really downhill with that shit and it just disappoints me to no end. But because Nintendo is kid-oriented, I think that's where it hurts the most. It was supposed to be accessible, family friendly fun like back during the days of the Wii and the DS. But companies get so wrapped up in competing with each other and trying to make the most money that they forget about all that. I dunno. It just sucks.

If you read all this, god damn I'm surprised XD I got super ranty and I apologize. But I'm in a sad mood and I after learning about features they've taken out I just had to get all this off my chest. It's been weighing on me since the game released, especially since for months prior this game was all I could think about and I was really looking forward to it. It just let me down in a lot of ways, I guess.

#long post #rant #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #vio stormcaller

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autodiscothings · 4 years ago

Note

What does Kolyat really think of Ori’s shopping habit?

Interesting question, because this opens up further questions on how both view money- they’re both oddly on the same page, and on the opposite sides of it.

Kolyat is practical now, though he had a year of reckless teen spending (once Thane’s first care package came in.) It’s thanks to his father he’s never had to taste poverty at any stage of his life; when Thane worked construction, Kolyat remembers there was still food on the table, and he was kept warm and dry- even if it was in a one bedroom apartment in the city. Thane’s wetwork eventually brought in the big money; it paid for Kolyat’s school education when he walked away him, and after the Illuminated Primarcy took their taxes on the (above board) schemes, the inheritance he would receive at 21 was still sizeable. When money gets that big, it comes with its own accountancy firm and three ring circus. Kolyat knows enough to have some investments of his own and regular contact with his accountant, a volus who dealt with his father and understood the blood in the ledger. Even if the credits are leftovers from Thane’s accounts, Kolyat has to understand how to manage them. His father left him with oddities -legal and not so legal- he is still dealing with years after his death, like a shipping crate of elcor modern art he has to have valued and auctioned off, even if the money goes to charity.

He is weary with dealing with it all, almost a constant job if he lets it be one. Kolyat doesn’t view the investments and inheritance as his, but a leftover he has to sort out for his father- weird elcor art and all. He donated a lot to the Kepral’s Fund, but a part of it Kol did keep- the apartment on the Citadel, for one. It’s in perpetuity, but to a point; he only has the place for his lifespan. Kolyat is thankful for the nice volus that deals with most of it, so he can concentrate on his life in C-Sec; to a point, obviously- he still has to make decisions.

Oriana, on the flip side- she might have been born into Lawson’s wealth, but never got to experience it as a child. Despite how I draw her, despite the assumption she was born privileged, Ori was brought up in the immigrant quarters of Nos Astra. Her adoptive family were shabbily middle class: her father composed a jingle once a year for the CNN radio or the occasional ad soundtrack, sometimes worked as a tutor for ‘Human Music & Culture Studies’ classes for bored rich Maidens; her mother worked in software engineer for a pharmaceutical company, the main breadwinner.

Ori grew up knowing that every credit was very much earned, and that times got tough. It’s why the gifts from her ‘guardian angel’ stand out; Miranda Lawson paid for her violin, her private lessons. A little bit here and there, to help out her sister.

Ori knows money opens doors, and that clothing ‘maketh the man.’ Her childhood in Illium was a place that judged you on what you wore and what (asari) family you came from; she then went to university in a human colony that did the same. Bekenstein might have had an excellent school for engineering and innovation, but it was also full of pompous nouveau riche who thought their money shined brighter.

Ori has been schooled in knowing that money doesn’t exactly bring happiness, but it brings a certain muffled blanket of carelessness, a shield from the shit of life. She hates wearing obvious branding, like the rich of Bekenstein did- awful shows of gauche spending and terrible taste. Even her college crush was flippant, in the way trust fund babies are.

Ori’s parents left her with a little, but taxes consumed a fair amount. Henry Lawson’s gift of inheritance gave Ori a very large amount of money, even after the Alliance seized his assets. She refused to touch it; Miranda persuaded her into keeping some, but Ori was sickened at the thought of owning blood money. Instead she talked Miranda into creating a fund for the victims of Sanctuary, for the families left behind. Ori still struggles with the paper work for it; the thought of handling anything relating to Lawson makes her sick.

The Upper Ward apartment she mostly uses as a storage room belongs to Miranda; Ori’s wage at Kellams pays enough to keep her on the Citadel, just enough for her spending habit. She does eat into her savings, though- far more recklessly than Kolyat does. Somewhat ironic the man who lives in three pack t-shirts and workout gear is the richest out of them; Kolyat dislikes spending on anything, actually- eating out, bar crawls, skycar taxi rides. His C-Sec wage is enough for him- his biggest expense is the damn cat.

Ori genuinely loves well designed clothes, and buying them. To her, it’s structural engineering for bodies, an artform in itself. She experiments with colours and silhouettes, evident in her make up too- Henry Lawson found it very distasteful, as if purple lipstick ruined his creation. Wipe that grease off you face, you’re not a dockside whore.

Because Kolyat knows money -even through observation- he sometimes knows when Ori lies about her spending. She can be flippant- I got this on sale, oh I know the designer, it’s loaned- but not too heavily, not Bekenstein levels of pretence. Once she climbs the ranks at Kellams and networks more, the clothing she wants comes easily, even if she has to give it back to the stylist the morning after. (Gala clothes/jewels are often on loan from the archives!)

The stickler comes when they get older and want to buy an apartment together. Kolyat is okay with a joint account, but only for expenses/bills- it won’t pay for her shopping habit. Ori’s spending and her carelessness regarding her possessions (his perception, not reality- she’s messy, not reckless) becomes an issue for him, one that she rolls her eyes at and deals with. In turn, she asks him to live a little more- they can afford the restaurant, the holiday, the extension to the kitchen. What’s the problem? Let’s do it.

This is quite an essay I know, but I think money and the attitude you had during your upbringing shapes how you deal with it as an adult. Ori’s spending habits is a reaction to it; She says it’s part of her work, that she has to fit in or use fashion as a weapon, but a part of her loves clothing. Not in the gaudy Bekenstein way, but in that she sees it as a form of expression. It’s important to her, too- a slick of purple lipstick, as an act of defiance.

Kolyat does know this of course, despite his grumblings. He gives her something extra special in their first apartment together- the spare room meant for their office is now a walk in closet.

It becomes the cat’s favourite place to hide.

#this is a literal essay #asks and prompts #kolyat krios #oriana lawson

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fourdaysofrain · 5 years ago

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Butterflies and Dahlias

Summary: Tony helps Peter with his crush on MJ.

(Just a little fluff to help those of us going into midterm season!)

Read on AO3

Peter had been texting someone on his phone since the moment he set his bag down in the lab. Not that Tony minded, he was too busy with his current project: restoring his dad’s old radio. It normally sat on his nightstand, but recently it had taken to playing random stations from Norway a few hours before sunrise. Tony wanted to blame Thor, but it was more likely a side-effect of a past upgrade gone wrong. Whatever the issue was, Pepper was not a fan. That meant Tony had to fix it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter look up from his phone and glance out the window of the compound’s lab. He squinted a bit at the sun shining into his eyes.

“MJ says that commuting to your workplace is an example of economic privilege,” he said, apropos of nothing.

“Yeah?” Tony looked up from his desk to assess the teen across the room from him. “Why’s that?”

“It’s something about how it makes you need enough money to buy a car, and the ability to pay for gas, and free time, I think?” Realizing that Peter was just rambling in his excitable teenager way, Tony turned back to his desk and continued to work on fiddling with the radio. ”‘Cause you need to be able to have time to commute instead of like, take care of your kids or something. I told her that Happy drove me here.”

“She sounds like a peach. What else does she say?” Tony replied distractedly, searching for the right size screwdriver.

“She also says that me wearing Ben’s old work shoes is closer to the original spirit of Doc Martens than the people at our school who buy them new.” Peter put his phone down on the table and started moving his hands in time with his words. ”She told me the history of them, it’s really interesting!”

The damn screw was such a weird size. “Is it?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s like, they were the working class of the 50s and 60s’ work shoes, and then the workers’ children would get them as hand me downs, and that’s the generation that started rock music and all that, so they have a rebellious history.” Peter jumped up to sit on a nearby table and continued to talk excitedly. ”She also told me about the racial history of a bunch of music genres. Did you know salsa music has a lot of African influence? I never knew that! It’s something about the syncopated beat structure, I don’t know.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony said mindlessly. He finally found the right size screwdriver and successfully started to reattach the back panel of the radio.

“Even the definition of syncopation is ‘the disturbance to the normal pulse of meter.’ Like, what’s the normal meter then? Whatever a bunch of old European white guys decided on?”

Tony noticed the lull in the conversation and gave a quick, “Mhmm.”

“There’s just so much whitewashing in our culture! Like, so much.” Peter paused for just a second to quickly check his phone. ”I really should be more aware of that stuff, especially because Queens is so diverse. And Spider-Man’s trying to be inclusive of everyone.”

“Is he now?” Tony asked, his attention still on the radio in front of him.

Peter nodded as he continued to speak. “I worry that I come off as too white savior-y when I’m saving people, but I brought up Spider-Man being white to MJ and she said she thinks he’s doing pretty good. So, it can’t be that bad, right?”

Tony finally dragged his attention away from his desk and looked over at Peter. He looked a little deranged, with his hair askew and cheeks slightly flushed.

“This MJ gal,” Tony said, pointing at Peter with the screwdriver. ”You like her?”

“What?” Peter’s mouth stayed partly open, his train of thought evidently derailed by Tony’s question.

“You like MJ.”

Peter laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. “No! I mean like, yeah, I like her, she’s one of my friends. But like, like like her?”

Tony leveled him with a steady look. “Do you?”

There were a few beats of silence as Peter leaned back until he was laying down on the table and looking upwards. Tony could hear his sigh from across the room.

“I think I like MJ,” he said, staring desolately at the ceiling.

Tony took off his tinted glasses and set them carefully on his desk. “Hey, good for you.”

“No, what?” Peter pushed himself up from his position until he could make nervous eye contact with Tony. “This is bad!”

“C’mon, kid, brighten up! You’re 16, the world is your oyster, and so on and so forth.” Tony waited for a reaction from Peter, but none came. “Have I told you about when I knew I was in love with Pepper?”

Tony had always held his cards close to his chest when it came to his personal life, so Peter perked up at the prospect of learning more about him.

“When’d you know?” he asked.

“Besides seeing her after I got the new ticker,” Tony said, tapping his shirt where his scars from the arc reactor were with the screwdriver he still held. “There was a night after I got it removed, nothing special about it, where I just looked at her and knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Peter rested his head in his hands. “Why that night?”

Tony looked off into the distance and smiled, lost in thought. “I had just given her a necklace that was made with the shrapnel they yanked out of my heart. I’m not normally big on romance, so that sealed the deal for me.”

“Just like that?” Peter asked. “It just took a necklace?”

“It wasn’t just a necklace, it was a…” Tony trailed off as he searched for the right words, waving the screwdriver in lazy circles near his ear. “It was a culmination of years of tension.”

Peter scrunched his nose. “Gross.”

“It’s not gross, it’s romantic.” Tony sniffed and set the screwdriver back on his desk. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”

There was just a moment of silence before Peter started talking again.

“So,” Peter said, starting to swing his legs off the side of the table, “I need to buy her a necklace, then.”

“It’s not about the necklace, kid.” Tony waved away the remaining holograms and gave Peter his full attention. ”It’s about what it represents.”

Peter sighed and fell back onto the table. “I don’t have any shrapnel in my heart, man.”

“What’s something, anything, she’s told you about that you can make lovey-dovey?” Tony asked, barely holding back an eye-roll.

“I don’t know.” Suddenly, he lifts his head up and looks at Tony. “Wait, she mentioned the Black Dahlia murder the other day, that’s a flower, right?”

“That’s a flower,” he confirmed, pointing at Peter. “What can you do with that?”

Tony waited while Peter thought.

After a few seconds, Peter cringed and smiled awkwardly before saying, “I can get her a necklace of a black dahlia?”

Tony ran his hand through his hair. This kid. He sighed, then clapped his hands together.

“Alright, kid. If you’re going to do this, you’re doing it right.” He pulled his phone out and started tapping as he rambled. ”I know a great glassworker in Italy who can fix you up with something real quick. I’ll cover the cost and shipping, of course.” He ignored Peter’s muffled squawk of surprise. ”Unless you want to get it yourself, in which case I can loan you a private jet. Or, just make a healthy donation to fund a field trip for your AcaDec team to go to Europe--”

Peter cut him off by waving his hands. “Woah, woah, woah! Mr. Stark! Italy? We’re going to MoMA next week, I can’t go to Europe!”

“Alright, I hear you. No Europe.” Tony clicked his phone off and slid it back into his pocket. He saw the forlorn look on Peter’s face and tilted his head towards him. “Look, kid. You like her. Just be your normal dorky self. Don’t pretend to be anyone you’re not.”

Peter sighed and shoved his fingers into his hair. “Mr. Stark, I spend half my free time pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“Oh, kid.” Tony couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the sight of Peter unraveling over a girl. “You want the easy way?”

Peter jerked his head up to look at Tony. “Yes, please.”

Tony could see the desperation in his eyes. Oh, to be a teenager again.

“There is no easy way,” Tony said as he slid his tinted glasses back on. “Get used to it now.”

Peter groaned and laid back down on the table, hitting the back of his head on the surface a few times for good measure.

Tag List: @ironfamjam @addi-is-amazing @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch @wellplacedbanana @night0seven @unfathomable-universe @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @spideynamu

#hey my confidence is back!#art writes #irondad #iron man #spider-man #spiderman #mcu #marvel #spideychelle #peter parker #michelle jones #peterxmj

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syms-things-5 · 5 years ago

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Clear The Area - Chapter Six

Previous chapter HERE

Warning: Mild language

Summary: Sarah’s parents make a visit, and not everyone is happy with Sarah’s choices.

Note: Sorry this took a while to get out.

CHAPTER SIX

There’s a couple of things you should probably know about Jocelyn and Noah Bernette.

The first is that they are salt-of-the-Earth people. They are friendly to anyone, heavily involved in their community, and they make regular donations to a charity that provides home improvements to families so they can live comfortably with a disability. They once spent a summer volunteering with Habitat For Humanity and have fostered approximately 18 cats and dogs over the past seven and a half years. Jocelyn regularly bakes cakes for their neighbours and Noah is obsessed with his garden and tending to the Norwegian Purple Heather he paid a fortune to have shipped over from Bergen. Politically, they are liberal in practically every sense of the word and up to speed with the latest democratic events. Seriously, you would have to work extra hard to trip them up if you wanted to hold any kind of debate with them.

Sadly, the Bernettes could not have children biologically for one reason or another. Jocelyn in particular struggled with that knowledge. She figured at the age of 34, with most of her friends now mothers and fathers themselves, a child was the obvious piece missing from their puzzle. Professionally, they were both pretty much at the top of their respective trees and they had no mortgage to speak of so naturally the only thing left to accomplish was raising a child. So, thereafter, followed several years of testing, waiting, waiting some more, then more testing, but the doctors couldn’t fathom why it just didn’t want to happen for them. There didn’t appear to be anything medically wrong with either of them. It was nature, they said, as though that was supposed to be some kind of comfort. Eventually, when Jocelyn reached her 40th birthday, she and Noah decided it wasn’t meant to be and opted to try a different route, though it wasn’t much easier being told implicitly that they were now too old to adopt a baby.

Which leads to the other thing you should probably know about them: they don’t like to be reminded that Sarah is adopted. It suits them just fine to block out the first 12 years or so before they met. It’s not to say they completely disregard her past of that they want to forget they couldn’t have children, it was more that on some psychological level Sarah had long since given up trying to understand, they felt more like a real family if they could continue to believe that they had always been this way, that it was fate they would find each other and live happily ever after.

Jocelyn wanted to experience sleepless nights from a crying baby wanting to be fed but instead she learned to deal with sleepless nights waiting to see if their runaway child was going to come home before four in the morning. They would argue about boyfriends they didn’t trust or buying a car they didn’t think she would look after. Jocelyn would later attempt to make the move from mother to best friend as soon as Sarah moved away to college, always planning meet-ups or sending her cut-outs in the post about make-up thinking she would be interested in them and they could perhaps bond over shared hobbies. She could finally empathise with her friends and neighbours about whether their children were surviving their studies. All stereotypical parental concerns and she embraced each and every one of them.

Noah on the other hand, a few years older than Jocelyn, was definitely calmer about the whole thing. He was glad they chose this option for them both because he reasoned he might be too long in the tooth to start changing nappies or teach another human being how to ride a bike given that he didn’t know how to do so himself. Instead, they could take what they had, what they both worked so hard to achieve, and help someone who hadn’t had the best start in life. Isn’t that they best way of helping your community?

Lisa once joked that she learned more about Sarah from one dinner with her folks than she had learned from Sarah herself over the course of knowing her for six months. But she couldn’t understand why Sarah had a particular desire to create a distance between herself and them, and from her seemingly healthy teenage years in a quaint town in Maine, a far cry from Michigan in more ways than one. Shanna didn’t understand either but Sarah wasn’t always forthcoming about her rationale even after knowing for as long as she did.

Sarah learned early on that it was best not to talk about her birth family. She was thankful to have Noah and Jocelyn steering her at a time when it would have been all too easy for her to go off the rails. Of course, she was thankful; who wouldn’t be, living that kind of comfortable life. She didn’t want to see ungrateful. It just never really settled within her. She always felt a little out of place and struggled to adjust to the wealth of positive emotions, love, and a somewhat material wellbeing she hadn’t experienced before. She provided the Bernettes with their missing piece and they wanted to reward her for that but she in turn felt like something was missing from her own identity and that feeling only grew as she got older. Increasingly, she felt like who was as a Bernette was not entirely in line with who she felt she was in the baseline of her DNA. At times she felt like she was merely living to someone else’s expectations so moving to Boston was something akin to therapy.

“And he just gave you this?!”

Jocelyn was stood by the wardrobe in Sarah’s bedroom. She usually did this under the pretence of casually catching up on life and everything else but realistically, Sarah knew she just wanted to snoop around in the hope of discovering hints of a boyfriend she’d been keeping to herself. Shanna was currently sat on Sarah’s bed, one leg tucked underneath and enjoying their relationship from a distance. She was wondering when she’d bring up Prince Greg as she’d dubbed him on account of his floppy hair. She felt like she knew more of Sarah when she was around her own family. It was kind of fascinating to see.

Jocelyn held the dress up in front of her, taking it in, gobsmacked. Sarah had never seen Jocelyn this excited before. To the untrained eye, it was just a simple black mini-dress; unclingy with loose full-length sleeves and a frilly detail around the hem. There was a silver thread woven into the stitching that caught the light if you were stood the right way. Chris was right; it was cute. Shanna suggested wearing it with black tights and those heeled boots that were her go-to date footwear. Her only go-to date footwear, Audrey would remind her whenever she managed to drag her into town for some shopping. Being overtly dressed-up wasn’t something Sarah was easily comfortable with and Chris knew this, so simple was definitely the way to go.

“Not exactly. It’s a loan. I’ll have to give it back afterwards.” Sarah pressed.

She was ready to get to the exhibition centre before it closed but Jocelyn didn’t seem in any particular rush. Her knowing Chris Evans was perhaps the thing Jocelyn was most proud of in Sarah’s life and she always managed to work in a conversation or two whenever she visited. Rather than be irritated by it, Sarah actually found it rather amusing. Chris seemed to have a sixth sense for guessing when Jocelyn was trying her patience, though, and played up to her a little bit so as to give Sarah a break. She once lost her asking him questions about the Academy Awards for nearly an hour. The amount of beer she had to buy him afterwards as a ‘thank you’ nearly bankrupted her.

“Well, you’ll have to make sure your hair and make-up matches. You can’t wear a dress like this with a ponytail.” She was speaking in what she assumed was a helpful tone. It was a good job she couldn’t see the face Sarah was pulling right now.

“Oh, between us all I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out. I’ll have to do the same thing, too.” Shan was trying her best to act nonchalant in an effort to support her best friend. “I mean, it’s not often any of us get the chance to get dressed these days, really.”

“How lovely. You can borrow my emerald earrings if you like? They’ll bring out your eyes.” Jocelyn was more than a little eager now, no doubt buzzing at the thought of having her personal jewellery plastered all over Instagram. She zipped up the dress bad and placed it carefully inside the wardrobe while Sarah and Shan just smiled at each other knowingly.

As Jocelyn moved to the bathroom to wash her hands, they left the bedroom opting for the relative safety of the living room where Noah had set up camp alongside Chris and ESPN. He was a keen follower of most sports with golf a particular favourite. He was saving up for tickets to the PGA tour next year as a retirement gift to himself. Sarah knew Jocelyn wasn’t going with him but couldn’t be entirely sure he hadn’t invited Chris along in her place.

“What’s she mithering you about this time?” Noah asked, eyes glued to the TV screen. He didn’t get much time to sit and be still watching television at home so visiting his daughter was even more of a treat. If Sarah could survive being the sole focus of Jocelyn’s attention for hours on end, he would have happily left them to it for the afternoon and set up camp with Chris and a glass of Talisker.

“Nothing much, it’s OK. Are you ready to go yet? It’ll take about 20mins to walk there,” Sarah was hinting as heavily as she could now, short of jingling her keys in front of their faces likes they were cats.

“Sure, go grab your mom and we’ll head out. Have you had thoughts about dinner yet? Chris, would you like to join us?”

“Well, I was quite keen on seeing the exhibition myself actually but I’d hate cause you guys any problems with my being there.” He tried to casually shrug it off in a look she’d seen all too often lately.

“I’m sure we can manage,” Noah managed to tear himself away from the TV screen for his beloved Chris. “Is it a ball cap situation or more of a through-the-backdoor type of thing? I’ve never had to sneak around before. Could be fun?”

Sarah appreciated Noah’s casualness and evidently, judging by the grin spread across his face in that moment, so did Chris. He turned to look over the back of the couch at Sarah, silently asking her permission.

“Well, I did get a 4th ticket in case you or Scott fancied coming...” she offered. “I mean, I’m fine if you are?”

Chris gave her a grateful smile. “Give me two minutes and I’ll be right with you.”

For this time of day, the gallery was surprisingly busy but mainly full of people Sarah figured were die-hard fanatics of his art and who probably wouldn’t recognise Chris if he appeared in front of them dressed in his full Captain America get-up waving the American flag. As they passed by the smiling security guard. Noah wondered quietly to Sarah what the Venn diagram of McCurry aficionados crossed with Marvel fans would realistically look like. Given his nerdiness for all things mathematical, no doubt he’d have an answer figured out for them by the time they reached the Vietnam display two halls away.

“...and this was the photograph that started the Live Aid charity.” Jocelyn stopped in front of a small photograph, no larger than one you’d have in a frame at home yet unmistakeable on the wall alongside dozens of other images, Sharbat’s eyes piercing your soul. Walking slightly ahead of them, she’d somehow managed to link arms with Chris and was now acting as their defacto tour guide, explaining each piece to him in turn as though he’d never seen them before. Anyone who knew Chris properly would know he greatly enjoyed photography and was well read on the latest pieces. Nevertheless, he was still polite and nodded along as she enthusiastically spoke of the lens McCurry used to achieve the effects of his art.

As they moved through to the third and final hall space, things had gotten noticeable quieter as more people were filtering out. Noah and Jocelyn were deep in conversation with a local art student who had stopped to sketch a couple of pieces, and Chris seemed far more relaxed and happy walking around without his NASA cap on. No on had paid him any attention all afternoon, it must have been a nice change of pace for him.

Sarah lost track of how long she had been staring at a larger canvas piece of a bridge with a giant concrete hand underneath holding the structure up. The place was unknown and the image was photographed from high up, possible from a plane or helicopter. It was oddly serene even if the bridge had become overgrown with reeds and dirt.

“I think it’s meant to represent Mother Nature’s battle against Man,” Chris spoke quietly as he approached her from behind, standing to one side as she continued to stare at the image.

“That’s an interesting theory. Where did you read that?”

“i happen to have an ongoing subscription with National Geographic.” Chris said, comically smoothing his beard in contemplation. Sarah almost believed him until she registered what he had said. Chris clocked her side-eying him. “Joss told me to tell you when she saw you looking at it.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the wall. “I think I want to visit this place one day. It’s like the complete opposite of Boston.” she mused.

“You’d never leave Boston. It’s in your DNA now. You’re officially one of us.”

“That’s....that sounds vaguely threatening.”

“You have leprechaun pyjamas and you’ve been drunk at Fenway. You pretty much tick all of the boxes.” Chris smirked and turned to walk away.

“How do you know I have those pyjamas?” Sarah followed behind him.

“I didn’t. You just told me.” Sarah punched him in the arm and Chris pretended to wince.

Noah had somehow managed to loop back around the bookshop from the start to purchase a couple of prints and a biography before joining them as they headed towards the exit. The rain had started getting a little heavier during the time they had been inside and Sarah chastised herself for ignoring Jocelyn’s advice to bring an umbrella with her. If there was one thing you could guarantee in even the nicest of Summers, it’s that Jocelyn Bernette always, ALWAYS, carried an umbrella in her handbag. Also, one of those waterproof macs that rolled up to the size of a dollar bill but she couldn’t convince anybody that they were a good idea.

As they gathered outside, Sarah gently pulled Chris back by his elbow. “Hey, there’s no pressure on staying for dinner if you’d rather head out or whatever. I think they were keen on you stopping out with us but I’m happy to make an excuse if you’d rather not.”

“What? No, it’s totally fine. I really like your folks. They’re fun and interesting.” Chris noticed Sarah’s look of skepticism. “Seriously, you need to chill. I’m having a good time. It’s nice doing normal things for a change.”

“In that case, I’ll let them know you’re up for a bike ride tomorrow. Dad wants to rent a tandem.”

“Are you....Are you being serious?” Sarah nodded. “Wow, they really go all out, huh? What are you gonna do while they do that?”

“No idea. Probably hold their bags.”

Chris laughed. “Man, those two are cute. I’d kill to be that dorky when I’m their age. You’re so lucky.”

Sarah considered his point for a moment, looking at Jocelyn waving her flip phone up in the air trying to get a signal. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d tried to convince her to upgrade, telling her they could stay in touch more easily with Whatsapp rather than pages-long emails once or twice a week. Sadly, this would turn out to be the last positive memory they would have of their peaceful afternoon.

“Can I ask you something, but you have to promise not to get mad.” Chris posed an interesting question. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“I don’t get why you’re meeting Charlotte.” He could see Sarah about to protest and continued regardless. “I don’t see what good can come from this. You’ve tried it once before, it failed, and you didn’t leave you bed for two weeks. I was there, Sarah. It was horrible. I don’t understand why you would put yourself through that again.”

His tone was a little louder than he realised and placed a hand over his mouth, wiping at his beard as if that would somehow erase his words from having been spoken. Sarah didn’t know what to say. She was tired with a continuous feeling of frustration at having to explain away her decisions at every turn. She hadn’t mentioned meeting her birth mother for a while now but could sense the apprehension people had at the thought. If it wasn’t Chris, it was Shanna, and if it wasn’t Shanna, Audrey had kindly informed her she was taking an unnecessary risk although she didn’t put it quite so mildly.

“You don’t have to agree with me. I get that no one supports me here,”

“Oh, that’s unfair. Jesus.” He turned to face away from where Jocelyn was stood, only a few feet ahead of them but seemingly oblivious to their contention. “It’s not just you that this affects, you know. You seem to forget that.”

There was no mistaking his argument this time as he drew Sarah’s attention back in her mother’s direction.

“Have you guys been talking about this behind my back?” Sarah finally asked after what felt like minutes of silence. Noah was now indicating at something ahead of them.

Chris took a breath and Sarah could tell he was refraining from saying something he might regret. “No, we haven’t we’re just concerned is all. You don’t know her -”

“- hence why I am going to meet her.”

“- and you don’t know what she is after.”

She stood still as Chris continued walking but only getting a few steps ahead of her before noticing she’d stopped altogether. Jocelyn and Noah continued on ahead of them, enjoying the drizzly walk and the lights of the town and gradually getting further and further away.

“Do you not think it’s just what she wants to know who I am? What is it that you think she is after?”

“Sarah, don’t do this, OK? I’m not going to get into an argument with you about this now because I’m not going to say what you want to hear. I’m sorry.” He looked at her carefully for a second. “I just...I see you guys together hanging out and it fits, y’know? You’re so like them, Sarah. You think the same things, you like the same things. If I didn’t know you at all, I’d think you were the double of Joss. They’d be heartbroken if they knew what you were doing.”

Sarah couldn’t look him in the eye. The older Sarah would have possibly turned to run at this point, trying to avoid conflict at all costs, but they’d had spats before and Chris was nothing if not annoyingly unflappable. She knew he would tell her straight and as much as she might not want to hear it right in this moment, it was probably for the best.

He saw a flash of what looked like hurt cross her face. Now or never, he doubled down. “You wanted to know what I thought so I’m telling you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to make tracks but not before one last bash. “I think this is a bad idea.”

“Well, then it’s a bad idea I’ll deal with myself.”

#Clear The Area #Chris Evans #Evans Fic #chris fic #chris evans x original female character #Sarah Bernette #Syms Writing

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for-ests · 5 years ago

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All My Heart To You: Bobby x Reader

Summary: your life with Bobby 6 months after you two left the show as winners.

Word Count: 3,272

Warnings: none :)

__________________

Even though your time on love island ended almost six months ago, you would sometimes wake up and expect to find your fellow islanders surrounding you.

This morning was one of those mornings. You wouldn't bolt upright, gasp, or even say a word. But on those particular mornings, Bobby was able to tell what you had dreamt about.

Your eyes fluttered open, immediately scanning the bedside alarm clock that flashed 8:00am. You let out an exasperated sigh. It was the weekend, yet you were still unable to catch up on your sleep. Your life had been an insane whirlwind of excitement. And because if that, not just your mind, but your body refused to slow back down.

Groaning, you rolled over and almost elbowed the love of your life in the face. Bobby's firm and muscular chest was a surprise. When you woke up in the mornings, you were usually alone. He was the earliest of risers. He was usually out of bed and hours into his shifts at work before you were able to function.

"Babe?" You questioned, shocked to find him still in bed with you.

"Yeah?" Bobby asked, sleepily. His eyes were heavy, yet a smile spread across his face. Your boyfriend reached for you before you could continue with your question, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "I felt like sleeping in today." He nuzzled the back of your neck, leaving a soft kiss under your ear. From the months he'd known you, he learned it was your favorite spot to tease.

Your soft, delicate fingers interlocked perfectly with his own. If you were honest, you could lay with him like that forever. You found your other half, the man of your dreams. Ever since you had met him, your life had been pure bliss. Bobby truly brought out the best in you. And what was most rewarding was that you could tell you were doing the same for him.

"I'm going to give you a proper good morning wish, my love." He whispered. "You had the dream again, didn't ya?"

You rolled your eyes even if he couldn't see your face. "How did you know?"

He kissed your favorite spot again. "I just know."

Sometimes, you do just know. There's no way to explain the bliss that follows when you meet your soulmate; it is only an experience you need to live through. You and Bobby had been together for almost a year at this point, and you hadn't fought once. Only if you count the rare bickering that was endured when you slightly disagreed with each other's decisions. But that was normal, it was healthy. To anyone who knew you and Bobby's relationship, identified the two of you as the strongest coupled they had known.

From all the attention, also came the money. Yet you were still attending school and announced to the world that you had paid off all your loans and donated the rest of your earnings to charity. Bobby's half paid off 4 years rent, and the rest went into a savings account to help kick-start his dream of owning his own bakery.

A life off-camera was mystical. It was peaceful. You literally had the rest of your life finally in your grasp. One more semester of college and you were going to be the strong and independent woman so many people, including Bobby, knew you were meant to be.

Laying comfortably next to him in your shared apartment, made your thoughts drift to the night he formally asked you to be his girlfriend. You also thought about the night he asked you to move in with him, and the night the two of you first slept next to each other. Every emotion you displayed on the screen was genuine. Everything you had spoken through that microphone was spoken with good intentions.

That's why Bobby fell in love with you. Because like him, you wore your heart on your sleeve. He was just selfish enough to take it for himself. And instead of abusing your love and kindness like others in the past had, he nurtured it.

You felt his hands comb through your hair, almost bringing you out of your reflecting thoughts. But the motions shot you further back into the past, and you remembered how desperately you cuddled up to him the night it was revealed you had made it into the finale. You had slept without him for almost two weeks and tried to hide your jealousy as best as you could when you were sent to Casa Amor. Every time you laid your head down, you thought of him. Carl was unfortunate enough to catch your eye, but not in the way Bobby had.

It was only a distraction. It was only part of the game.

Your infatuation with Bobby had almost been your downfall. There was no way you could pretend to be in love with someone else, even for the sake of the show. You were known for being spirited and tenacious, but when it came to Bobby, your fortifications crumbled to dust.

Though every guy in the villa was kind enough to tell you how they felt, none of them gave you the butterflies Bobby did. Just his touch was enough.

It was what you craved when you shared a bed with Carl, and then Henrik. You pied them off before they even had the chance.

It pained you to have to admit it, especially to the men who tried to turn your head. You tried to make your emotions towards Bobby bright as day, yet on a television show, things became complicated way too fast.

Knowing he had to watch you sleep next to Henrik, was enough to make you assume he had possibly moved on. That week was the hardest for you, yet in the end, it made your relationship with him all the more strong.

You remember watching yourself cry in yours and Bobby's recap when he asked you if you still wanted to be with him. Before you had put up a front, you had portrayed yourself to be one of the guys, someone who was solely focused on the group's well-being before your own.

But Bobby made his vulnerability clear for only a moment, and that was enough to make you sob in front of millions.

"Yes!" You admitted a little too hastily. You covered your mouth in embarrassment, eyes flickering away so you didn't have to glimpse his surprise.

"Why are you looking away?" He asked, eyebrows raised in question. He took your shaking hands in his, squeezing them gently.

"I... I don't know. I thought it was obvious." A sheepish smile appeared on your face. You squeezed his hands reassuringly. "The last thing a bird like me wants to do is come on too strong."

"You aren't!" The Scottish man breathed a sigh of relief, pulling you into his chest. Anyone could see that the two of you were made for each other. Even your heights were perfectly matched. Bobby was exactly one head taller than you, tall enough to rest his chin on the top of your head comfortably. "Nothing makes sense when it comes to you, yet it does at the same time. I've never been so worked up about anything in my life."

Tilting your head up, you got a better look at him. "I honest to God thought I had lost you."

"Never." He held your face lovingly in his large, calloused hands. "I just wanted to give you space. I wanted you to be sure because you deserve everything." His gaze seemed to unfocus for a moment like he was reflecting on something more profound.

Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks, but barely made an inch until Bobby's thumbs wiped them away.

"Why are you crying?" He chuckled. "You have nothing to be upset about."

Your nerves were still present at his heartwarming confession, one that remained convicting till no end. "You were the only man on my mind, even though I tried."

The scene transitioned into you talking with Priya, your closest friend in the villa, until she was voted to go home. The two of you were incredibly different, yet made an interesting match when it came to giving each other advice.

"My feelings for Bobby..." You started, pausing to take a drag of your cigarette. If a viewer had looked close enough, they would have noticed that your eyes were bloodshot. "They scare me."

Priya set her arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. "What do you mean, babe?" She ashed her own cigarette, before leaning back against you.

"Everything here is so uncertain... I'm so scared to admit that I see a future with him outside of this place. I don't want to make myself outta fool on live television."

Priya laughed almost too loudly at your confirmation. "While that is entirely valid, you have nothing to worry about. What you have with Bobby is real, and I think everyone can see that."

Standing on stage in a full-length ball gown, hair professionally done, with millions of people watching-- was still not enough to make you waver when it came to explaining your feelings for Bobby. Even when you were forced to watch others discussing your relationship.

The entire time though, tears threatened to flow. Especially hearing how genuine his compliments sounded, to you, and to others. The recap had portrayed a love-sick Bobby, continually asking the other islanders about what you had been doing, and if you still felt the same.

It broke your heart to see how lonesome he looked when all the girls switched villas. Even the other boys noticed, trying to encourage him to engage in conversation. But it was obvious. Everyone could see it in his eyes. Which was a sharp contrast from his usual, bubbly, and out-going personality.

The scene switched to Gary and Noah in the kitchen cooking dinner for the newcomers. They seemed plenty excited until the topic of Bobby's demeanor came up.

"He's in love," Noah said flatly. "I've had that feeling before. And he's definitely afraid that Y/N will come back with another man. I am with Hope."

"Maybe a little too afraid." Ibrahim piped up from across the bar. "At least you're acting like yourself. I really don't like this side of Bobby, it's making me depressed."

"That's why I'm saying he should try grafting on the gals," Gary added, shaking his head. "That's the point of the game."

"No," Noah frowned, cracking an egg on the skillet beside him. "the point of the game is to fall in love, and he clearly has."

"Let's just hope and pray that Y/N comes back single and untouched. We'll figure out what to do then." Ibrahim shrugged.

"I doubt she'll come back with another lad. She's never flirted with any of us from the start." Gary chuckled, glancing over to where Bobby was sunbathing by himself. "Shes as loyal as they come."

That made both of you smile. You stepped closer to Bobby, fingers intertwining as the scene changed once again.

"I didn't realize how much I cared for you until I lost you," Bobby whispered next to you under the covers. "I couldn't stand to see you with another guy."

"You had a good way of hiding it." You teased, knowing he meant every word coming out of his mouth. That was the thing about Bobby. He never lied.

"That's because I'm supposed to be the cool guy. The one who's always making everyone laugh."

You giggled, burying your face even deeper into the crook of his neck, causing the microphone to become muffled. "Whether or not I'm coupled up with you in this game show, my heart is yours." You promised and fulfilled every single one until the two of you went home with $50,000 cash in hand.

Your favorite recap that was broadcasted to millions of people around the world was the moment Bobby confessed his love for you. He knew it was early, he knew it might be rash, but he said it. And for that, he was more courageous than any of the other contestants. He showed his vulnerability, and you responded with yours in return.

"I knew you were meant to be mine from the moment I walked into that villa." You exclaimed with tears in your eyes, trying to ignore the cameras that surrounded you. "And I don't think you realized how hard I tried to ignore it. But I knew."

Though the sun was near to setting, and there was barely any lighting, tears were still visibly glistening in your eyes. "That's nonsense." Bobby laughed lightly, cupping your face in his hands. "I kept telling myself you were too good for me... and I honestly still think you are. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, the sweetest, caring... any adjective I can think of." He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, trying his best to hide it from the camera. "At this point, I can't imagine you not in my life. I sound like such a melt but, Y/N... I have fallen head over heels in love with you."

"Wow." Caroline Flack smiled brightly into the cameras as your couple's recap faded into black. "Bobby and Y/N have given me hope that everyone has someone out there for them." You stood next to her, grinning sheepishly, trying to keep your cheeks from becoming too red. You remember internally freaking out about having to watch yourself on camera, time in the villa had grown to feel like real life. The idea of your every waking moment being filmed had slipped your mind. Especially the private ones you shared with Bobby, it was so hard to figure out what needed to stay hidden and what could be shared. That was what you struggled with most in the villa, but logic soon sided with you when everyone realized secrets were never secrets for long on Love Island.

"You lot are such melts." Caroline teased, handing both of you envelopes.

An explanation of what happened next is not needed. The two of you were far too anxious to spend alone time outside the villa that money had come in at a far second.

One look into his eyes and all your nerves vanished. One look into your eyes, and you knew he was never going to leave you. Everything else became mere background noise.

That was another thing about soulmates, the time spent together was never too fast. When you clicked in that special way, you clicked for life. You are still unable to form a cohesive and thorough way to describe how Bobby makes you feel. You appreciated him more than anything else in your life. And you made sure to let him know that in all the ways you could.

"What are you thinkin about?" Bobby's husky morning voice whispered from beside you. You squirmed in reply, not realizing you had fallen silent for a couple of minutes.

"Ah," He continued with a cheeky tone. "I bet it was about how good the sex was last night."

"In your dreams." You rolled your eyes, followed by a solid elbow nudge to his chest.

He groaned. "Literally."

Chuckling to yourself from his excessiveness, you finally gathered the willpower to sit up and stretch your arms. A yawn filled the silence, not a second later, and you found yourself leaping out of bed.

"Coffee or tea?" You asked, throwing a robe over your shoulders. All night long you had grown accustomed to Bobby's warmth, and now it was chilly without him.

"Tea, since I don't work today. Don't wanna over do it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Work? You mean the restaurant, right?"

He snorted, rubbing his eyes furiously with both of his hands. "Yeah, my bad." Bobby paused, deciding to sit up and follow you to the kitchen. "I can't seem to remember that the loan had processed. I'm really getting my own bakery inna couple months."

Turning around, you left him to get dressed. A smile stayed plastered on your face all the way until you were done preparing your morning cup of tea. Words could not describe how proud you were of him for following his dreams.

Small and not as ambitious, Bobby wanted to keep his life simple and sweet. So did you. And what other way than to open a mom and pop bakery in downtown Glasgow only miles from where you attended college.

As discussed on Love Island, You had purchased an apartment with Bobby a few miles away from his parents' house in Scotland, but once the renovations were done with your new gorgeous piece of property, you were going to move in with him upstairs from the store. It was a dream come true.

Bobby entered the kitchen with a groggy expression. "I do have to stop by the shop today and see the contractor off. He assured me the flooring would be finished today."

"Finally!" You grinned. "I can't wait to see it. I can't wait to decorate."

The man you loved embraced you from behind, setting his chin in the crook of your neck as you scrubbed the remaining dishes. "I will most definitely leave that up to you."

"My mom will be stoked to help, as well." You added, sighing as his hands scratched down your sides in a sensual manner. Bobby was never shy to tell you that watching you in the kitchen was a significant turn on. In fact, every time you were in it, you prepared yourself for a load of compliments.

Knowing Bobby, though, most of them were a fistful of jokes. But mornings like these were filled with inappropriate banter and cheeky touching. Touching that never failed to set your heart on fire.

"I can't wait to meet them." He nibbled on your earlobe, almost causing you to drop the mugs you were clinging on to.

"Bobby!" You whined, balancing them as best as you could. "The tea, you bloke."

"My bad." He pecked your cheek, carefully taking the more giant mug for himself. "Thank you."

The two of you made your way back down the hallway and into the television room. Though it wasn't proper behavior, you and Bobby had made it a routine to settle onto the couch and sip a cup of tea before you started your days. The little rituals you formed with him were near and dear to your heart.

You sat cross-legged next to him and smiled, nodding to him to turn on the tv. He obeyed.

"I wonder how much longer it's going to take you to grow sick of me."

"I'm already sick of you." He said with no expression but eyed you from the corner of his eye to capture your reaction.

"Idiot." You muttered and brought the mug to your lips.

There was the briefest moment of silence, but what he said next was enough to make you spit out your piping hot tea.

"Give it a few more months, and ill be so annoyed with you that you'll have a pretty little ring on your finger."

___

Hi there! Thank you for reading, please lmk if you'd like me to continue. I know the fandom is small but if a few people want more im willing to provide :) xoxo

#bobby love island #bobby #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #bobby x reader

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 years ago

Text

stuff for the vampire glimmer & ex-vampire hunter turned bodyguard adora au

scraps ahoy!

- so Glimmer is vampire who tries to drink as little blood as possible

- This makes her really weak, hence ex-vampire hunter Adora volunteering as her bodyguard

- Why does Glimmer not drink much blood? Because drinking blood isn’t about the blood. Blood is just the thing nearly everyone links to life, so when someone feels their blood being drained away they also unintentionally let some of their spirit/soul go with it

- (vampires who drink blood from unconscious/sleeping/confused people are just doing it for the kicks. The person has to go blood = life for the vamp to get anything out of it)

- Living souls want to go back to their living body so the soul sucking is more of a loan, unless the vampire does it often and regularly, which can end with the person’s soul being permanently torn, making them come back as a vampire if killed

- A month is more than long enough for Bow to get his soul piece back and have some quality time with it though

- Also, having a piece of someone’s soul in your soul forms a bond between the two. Glimmer and Bow’s is a really faint empathetic one bc of the time between drinks and bc Glimmer keeps herself a weak vampire without any extra soul stuff to influence people with. Their bond vanishes completely for the week right before the next blood drive

- Other bonds can be strong enough for the human to see through the vamps eyes and experience their memories, even feel their pain or emotions

- This is why most vamps drink either from people they have under control or from people they trust completely

- the bond can make humans sympathetic and protective of the vampire but it also leaves the vamp VERY vulnerable

- Adora learns all this one time when Glimmer is hurt and the two of them are separated from Bow. She offers her own blood, finds out that actually means offering a bit of her soul, and then offers it again anyway

- Glimmer doesn’t take her up on it but does stop lowkey thinking Adora might be a spy

- SHADOW WEAVER

- was the one who trained/raised Adora

- is the one Glimmer is hunting bc she killed Glimmer’s dad and is evil

- this is the main tension between Adora and Glimmer with Adora believing it’s all a misunderstanding and Glimmer being just like um No it’s NOT

- Adora stops checking in with SW and she knows this pisses SW off but she’s convinced if she can just get Glimmer to promise not to murder SW on sight maybe the two can work together and save the world

- shortly afterwards Adora starts getting blinding headaches and fails to spot several ambushes, leading to Glimmer nearly getting killed

- Glimmer actually saves Adora several times bc of headaches and gets really worried about her

- not sure how all this shakes out but:

- Glimmer tries drinking Adora’s blood and finds out it tastes like death

- Glimmer freaks out thinking Adora might be dying and rushes her to Angella (ancient vampire who is the one that discovered the whole soul-not-blood thing)

- Angella diagnoses Adora with ghoul. A ghoul is a person who drank vampire blood, someone stronger than normal with heightened senses who is in return under the power of the vampire they drank from. Their soul is infected with the vampires. The vampire can see what they see, feel what they feel, change their thoughts and alter their memories

- Adora’s headaches were her trying to fight back against the ‘betray glimmer’ thoughts SW was pushing into her head

- Adora is also the reason for all the ambushes. SW was watching Glimmer’s movements through her

- Probably SW has already sent other ghouls to attack Angella’s place now she knows where it is. Which is bad, because both Angella’s and Glimmer’s graves are here, and a vampire HAS to return to their grave once a year to keep their shattered soul from completely coming to pieces

- Angella decides to set up her wards and try to weather out SW’s attack in her crypt. Glimmer can’t abandoned her friends or the rest of the world though and demands to know how to un-ghoul Adora

- Short answer: she can’t

- Long answer: a powerful enough vampire could either feed Adora their blood and overwrite SW’s claim like tipping a scale, or bite Adora and draw SW’s soul out that way

- But neither Glimmer not Angella drink enough blood / steal enough souls to be able to do that

- Oh and, considering how long Adora has probably been a ghoul, killing Shadow Weaver might kill Adora too. Or just leave her a mindless husk with no memories or sense of self. Either way

- But now Adora know’s SW has been lying to her, is a vampire- a BAD one- is raising an army of ghouls like her, probably DID murder Glimmer’s dad AND has been using Adora to try to hurt Glimmer- Yeah. Adora is 100% for going back to vampire hunting

- And suddenly Glimmer is the one arguing for keeping SW alive

- they’re still arguing when SW’s ghouls arrive

- Ending???

- Glimmer and Adora kiss right before facing down SW

- SW turns Adora against Glimmer- but its spotty and Adora keeps breaking though just in time for Glimmer to get away, which infuriates/scared SW bc that shouldn’t be happening

- Glimmer is also doing REALLY well against all of SW’s trained ghouls

- meanwhile Bow has been setting stuff up while the two keep everyone distracted. Finally he gives the signal (via arrow probably) and Glimmer tricks RAGED ghoul Adora to charge her and break through wall instead

- cue SUNLIGHT as Bow’s chain of mirrors reflect daytime into SW lair

- Glimmer doesn’t dodge Adora’s next attack

- SW poofs

- Glimmer ... realizes she’s still alive? Adora didn’t stake her, instead shielded her from the sunlight

- angst sad bc Adora won’t answer Glimmer :(

- Bow blocks off his mirrors and he and Glimmer help guide/carry Adora away. She doesn’t seem to notice they’re there. Glimmer keeps talking to her anyway

- They go back to find all the ghouls that were attacking Angella’s place have mostly wandered off without SW controlling them. Glimmer asks her mom if Adora can stay there with them, answer yes of course

- Glimmer breaks down, gives Adora soggy forehead kiss and promises things will be ok

- Adora leans over and instinctively returns the kiss and hugs her

- Then she blinks

- Oh hey why is Glimmer crying? Where’s Shadow Weaver?? Did they win??? Is Glimmer hurt, is that why she’s crying?????

- no it’s not :D

- turns out you don’t HAVE to use blood to trade a piece of your soul with someone, a desperate ‘last kiss’ can work too, and the core part of Adora’s soul was kept safe in Glimmer when SW died (and helped glimmer kick ghoul ass) while Glimmer’s was just enough to weaken SW’s hold on Adora

- Now they’ve traded back with their second kisses <3 and can live (un-die?) happily every after <3 <3

(also Angella has to add another note to her research)

(and Bow doesn’t need to donate blood anymore)

(its a happy ending bc happy GOOD)

#spop #glimmadora #glimadora #.#..#vampire glimmer au #a messy run down of the fanfic that will never be written #how sad

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supremeuppityone · 5 years ago

Photo

Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 @kcvalentinesbingo

Prompt: Casablanca

Author’s note: This was inspired by Ricky Gervais’ 2020 Golden Globes monologue, in which he thoroughly pissed me off.

Warning: Potential triggers; implied assault survivor

Please review here.

Red. Everything was red. The rage sank into Caroline’s bones until nothing was left. From the uncomfortable murmurs of the rest of the audience, it was clear that she wasn’t the only one furious with Alaric Saltzman’s patronizing speech to open the Oscars ceremony.

“If you do win an award tonight, don’t use it as a political platform to make a political speech. You're in no position to lecture the public about anything, you know nothing about the real world. So, if you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent and your God and fuck off.”

There were so many things wrong with the washed-up comedian’s vile statement, that Caroline let out an audible gasp, not bothering to let her features settle back into a polite mask. Her agent was going to be pissed if the cameras happened to catch her now. But it was nothing compared to how pissed Katherine would be in a little while. As a nominated filmmaker, Caroline understood she was in a unique position to make a call for social change. And as one of the few female filmmaker nominees, it was her responsibility. She covertly took out her phone, typing a quick message to her staff, and then leaned back into her seat with a self-satisfied grin. Game on.

Her documentary focused on Congolese women who were taking back their communities torn apart by sexual violence. It was her honor to give voice to the warrior women who had created safe spaces for women — teaching them self-defense, providing legal representation, and fostering marketable skills.

She toyed with the orange and red bracelet, hiding a bittersweet smile as she recalled the way some of the women at the community center had attempted to teach her how to make the rolled-up paper beads. It was the day she shared her story with them. Her pain had been her own for so long. She’d nearly punched Katherine for telling her the bracelet clashed with her designer gown and that she should instead go with the loan from Bulgari.

The back of Caroline’s neck prickled as though she could feel the weight of someone’s stare. Casually glancing around the packed theater, her blue eyes widened when she realized Klaus Mikaelson was staring at her. Wildly famous, the dimpled British actor’s mantle must be overflowing with prestigious Oscars, BAFTAs and Golden Globes. Why was he staring at her? Again. Despite years in the industry, this was the first awards season her work had garnered enough attention to warrant nominations. And unwanted attention from A-listers.

A few months ago, she’d attended the Directors Guild Awards, slightly starstruck and still in disbelief that her work was finally getting recognition. She nervously was sipping champagne when someone insistently tapped her shoulder. Familiar with many of the more heinous Hollywood Gropers, she whirled around, ready to shred some wrinkled, self-entitled balls. She stopped short when she realized it was a skinny teenager who somehow managed to look even more nervous than she.

“Um. Hi! So, um I think you’re Caroline Forbes. Right?”

Caroline softened, assuming his painfully earnest demeanor meant he was an intern or one of the stage assistants. Her smile was gentle as she said, “Yes, I’m Caroline. What’s your name?”

Brown eyes went round with excitement as he took both of her hands in his, wildly shaking them up and down as he gushed, “I’m Henrik and I go to USC and we just studied you in my Defining the Feminine Narrative class!”

Flustered, she could feel an enormous smile spread across her face. It was rare that she encountered someone who knew who she was. Now what? Offering to sign something or pose for a photo sounded unbelievably pretentious. “Oh, wow. Thank you,” she finally said, “I had no idea.”

“I’m actually um, doing a research paper right now on your documentary about dowry-related violence in India,” he shyly confessed, hiding behind his long brown hair.

“Seriously?! I just started cataloguing some additional footage; trying to decide if there’s another story to tell. If you want to give me your email, I’d be happy to share my research with you. Maybe it will inspire you to create something amazing.”

Before Henrik could respond, an unexpected voice interrupted, “Impressive chat-up lines, little brother.”

Klaus stood there with his sexy dimpled grin that always spelled box office gold. And he’d been poured into that tuxedo. Damn. “Klaus Mikaelson,” he said, as though she hadn’t watched every movie he ever made, “and I had no idea Henrik was such a fan.” He put a companionable arm around the timid boy, telling her, “Henrik’s the true talent in the family. Thank you, love, for noticing.”

He eyed her with interest, and she immediately reddened, cursing her painfully white skin for making every emotion so obvious. “These ceremonies are so frightfully dull. Would you like to join us at our table, and then perhaps later, you and I could go for a drink?”

Damn it. He was one of those guys. Now flushed with irritation rather than embarrassment, Caroline replied, “You should ask Tatia. It’s only polite — since she’s your date.” Lately, the gossip sites had exploded with headlines gushing about the whirlwind romance between Klaus and the stunning supermodel, Tatia Petrova. Even if there was the chance it was a clever ruse to garner media attention, there was no way Caroline wanted any part of that nonsense.

Klaus flashed that dimpled smirk again, his accented voice amused as he said, “Tatia is more of an...inconvenience than a permanent fixture in my life. There’s only so much frivolous chatter I can tolerate. But I suspect that you would provide endlessly fascinating conversation, sweetheart. You’re starting to make a name for yourself with all those exotic travels and penchant for saving the world. There’s a light that shines in you; it sets you apart from the rest.”

He was seriously giving her the ‘you’re not like other girls’ speech. Dick. “Pass,” she said flatly, already starting to walk away. “But thanks for adding bad pickup lines to my ever-growing list of atrocities I need to save the world from.”

Thunderous applause interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. Where Klaus was still staring at her rather than paying attention to the clip they were showing from his nominated performance. His performance in the Casablanca remake had earned him the Best Actor nomination, with critics and media outlets proclaiming his work in the big budget production to be a crowning achievement in his stellar career. Despite her indifference to the original 1940s movie, she still eagerly went to see Klaus’ remake, and his performance as the expat Rick had left her breathless. His American accent had been impeccable, and she actually got a bit teary-eyed when he arranged for his onscreen love interest, Lisa, to board the plane to safety while he stayed behind.

Caroline could feel the heat rising in her cheeks the longer Klaus stared at her, irritated at herself for paying far too much attention to the gossip sites that announced Klaus’ amicable split almost immediately following their disastrous first encounter. She did not have time for Hollywood fuckboys. Even the ones with dimples. She had a world to save. Lost in her thoughts of burying her stupid crush on Klaus, she completely missed that he’d apparently won and was being herded offstage.

She leaned forward eagerly as her documentary category was called. Regardless of the winner, her documentary had garnered enough attention that a few months ago, she’d learned an anonymous donation singlehandedly funded the Congolese women’s charity for the next decade. It was rare that people surprised her. Maybe one day she’d learn the identity of the generous donor. While the vignettes played for each nominee, her heart giving a funny little tweak as she held her breath in anticipation.

“And the winner for best documentary feature is...Conflicted Hearts: Congolese Women Fight Back, by Caroline Forbes!”

The thunderous applause was deafening, and Caroline sat there in shock for several moments, unable to get her legs to move. When she finally managed to walk to the stage on shaky legs, she fervently hoped she hadn’t sweated through her Arcadius original. She cringed as Alaric grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him for a congratulatory kiss that she managed to avoid by jerking her head away. He should know better. Hazel eyes flashed as he angrily hissed, “Just smile for the camera and keep the whole ‘boohoo women bitching about a little flirting’ bullshit out of it. No one cares about your whiny politics.”

She burned him with her gaze, the oranges and reds of her gown a perfect backdrop for her fiery rage. Not bothering to respond to his unspoken threat, she stepped to the podium, pleased to be bathed in the stage lights, drawing energy from their warmth. “I’ve now been told twice tonight not to get political. It’s stupid to think I’m going to start following orders now. We’re some of the most fortunate people in the world. We have an extraordinary platform that allows us to reach millions. And it’s our responsibility to use it. We live in this world too and we should be working just as hard as anyone to make it better.”

The loud clapping sounded like vindication, and she hoped that the cameras were zooming in on Alaric’s face as it immediately purpled in anger. “My film is dedicated to the Congolese women who let me into their world, whose unparalleled strength gave me the courage to put into words my own trauma. They are warriors, and I hope that the anonymous donor who helped fund their women’s charity for the next decade understands the hope they’ve given to so many.”

Her smile was a vicious blade as she announced, “Thriving in front of my bullies is sometimes the whole reason why I get out of bed. I just started a charity tonight because I know I can’t be the only woman who’s been told to keep ‘boohoo women bitching about a little flirting bullshit out of it’. My organization will help women speak out about sexual harassment and assault in the workplace, providing much-needed legal assistance and support to help them overcome the personal and professional consequences that make it difficult to speak out. It’s called ‘CARE’.”

The standing ovation was immensely satisfying, but then she added, “And it stands for Condescending Asshats Refuse to Evolve’,” which had the theater shouting her name excitedly. Not a bad night.

As Caroline was ushered backstage, she basked as so many warm smiles and enthusiastic handshakes congratulated her, pausing only once to catch Alaric’s furious expression. She held his gaze just as fiercely, pouring out every viscous word she wasn’t ready to speak. But one day she would be.

Backstage, she nearly ran over Klaus. Flushed from his own win, he beamed at her while offering her a steadying hand. “Congratulations, love. Your win was well-deserved, and I don’t recall a more compelling speech. You’ve set a precedent tonight that undoubtedly will bring about much-needed change.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair, wishing she hadn’t worn the intricately plaited hairstyle so she could give her hands something to do. “Uh, thanks, and you too. Your work in Casablanca was amazing.”

“You saw my movie?”

Caroline was taken aback by his hopeful, pleased tone. “I’ve seen all of your movies. Everyone has.”

“I’ve seen yours too,” he confessed, ducking his head shyly. “Henrik is quite the fan and has all of your documentaries — even the one you created fresh out of film school where you exposed the hypocrisy of a ‘morality clause’ for beauty pageant contestants in your hometown.”

“Seriously?!” She gaped at him, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t thought about that in years. That documentary had gotten the attention of several groups, which eventually led to funding for bigger projects and more exposure to the causes that she was the most passionate about. “I had no idea that you’d...I mean, I’m flattered you took the time to watch my films.”

The tips of his ears reddened as Klaus replied, “Meeting you was a bit of a revelation for me. Your drive, your fearlessness at giving people a platform so their voices and stories can be told — it’s inspiring. It made me want to make some changes in my life, which I started doing several months ago.”

“I had no idea. I’m, uh, glad to have helped. Can I ask about the changes?”

“Maybe someday I’ll tell you,” he answered enigmatically. “In the meantime, I’d be honored if you would accept my donation to your CARE charity. I’m doing my best to be a reformed condescending asshat.”

#kcvalentinesbingo #uppity bitch fanfic #klaroline fanfic #klaroline aesthetic #aesthetic #klaroline #this one took an unexpected turn for me #writing has a mind of its own #klaroline does hollywood

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