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blackhermionegrangers · 4 years ago

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anyway here are my thoughts on the final table after finishing it the other day

I’m not the first person to point this out but the fact that the show boasted about being a “global” competition but focused heavily on western cuisines was kinda annoying. And on top of that the final four ended up being 4 white men. It’s just like..... ok den. It is what it is but I just wish the show hadn’t gone on and on about how “global” it was when it really wasn’t *that* different from many other cooking shows in terms of cuisines shown lol

also that almost the majority of the last half of the show had no women in it...... I know the culinary world is still very sexist so I guess it’s not all on the show in terms of gender disparities but also considering that there were tons of arguments between the men on the show that never got shown but the one time there was tension between the only female team they gave it lots of airtime and played it up leads me to believe the show may have also had a misogyny problem 🤷🏿‍♀️

the judging on the show seemed so weird and inconsistent to me. Sometimes being traditional was a good thing that was praised, other times it was critiqued. Sometimes going outside the box and not being traditional was praised, sometimes it was critiqued. It just seemed like there weren’t consistent standards between the sets of judges (or even within a single episode!). I guess u could say it reflects real life or whatever bc every person who sits at ur restaurant is going to have different standards or ideas for what the meal should be but idk man.... there was just no standardization or consistent set of criteria which made it feel like u never knew what the judges were going to want or like or dislike

also the celeb “ambassador” judges thing was kinda iffy to me. Like, no disrespect to hasan minhaj or dax shepard or whoever but what the fuck do these people know about fine cuisine that I, as a professional chef on this show with possibly decades of experience, have to listen to your opinion 💀

but I guess u could argue the celeb’s provided an Everyman™️ perspective on it, as in how would the average person feel and react to the dishes the chefs were making because maybe the perspectives and thoughts and comments of a professional chef or food critic might not be super relatable to the average person so that’s what the celebs are for? Idk I’m of 2 minds on this

also speaking of inconsistent judging, when the French chef taste-tested Rafa and esdras’ food, she said she found it spicy, but then during the judging the reason she gave for eliminating them was that the food wasn’t spicy enough???????? My brother was so pissed about this lol

also the fact that the reason Shin and Ronald left was because the British chef didn’t like their presentation...... I get that all the dishes were good enough that nitty gritty details start to matter and someone had to go home, but come on bro 😭 was it really bad enough to justify kicking them off the show? Especially since the presentation that she didn’t like/get was them using a Japanese technique/style

in general with the judging being the way it was I always felt really bad when a team went home because it usually just felt like it was out of their hands bc it came down to whatever the judges felt like doing basically lol

also the way they decided who the winner was was so weird to me. They all talked about how Timothy doing a dish that he was familiar with and had done multiple times put him at a disadvantage but then the American chef just went “but is that a disadvantage tho???????? 🤔🤔🤔” and because they didn’t show the conversation that happened after that or how they came to a consensus in the end it just seemed like they all just went along with the American chef??? And we also didn’t hear enough from all of the chefs either. Idk the discussion was cut so short and was so rushed which is annoying and doesn’t make sense bc the whole season was leading to that moment.... they could’ve afforded to have a slightly longer episode (literally just an extra minute or two) if it meant giving us more of the decision making process.

it was an enjoyable watch but I found it to so be garish and melodramatic and over the top lol... also again going on about being a “global” competition while still being quite euro/western-centric was just.... the show came across as being a bit more proud of itself than it really deserved to be

i cannot BELIEVE those chefs were cooking in front of a live audience omg I would’ve been so nervous

I liked Darren but the amount of times he went on and on about “I’m a white guy making Japanese food, I had to fight to prove myself” was just..... it’s clear he had a lot of love and respect for the cuisine and acknowledged that he was just a student of it and didn’t delude himself into thinking he was doing something new or reinventing the wheel or whatever which was nice but just the amount of times he went on about the whole “I’m a white guy” thing was a bit much lol. it might’ve been the editing tho so idk

I know Charles and Rodrigo are probably a bit too pretentious for some people but I loved them sm 😭 I was so sad when they left

I also loved the Australian chefs so much 😭

hey Alex i am free on Thursday if you want to hang out please call me about hanging out on Thursday which is when I am free

In general I loved all the chefs tbh, the highlight of the show is getting attached to each contestant. I was always genuinely sad for each team that left

If they ever do any more seasons I will watch but it’s really not as groundbreaking or original or as fresh as they really tried to play it up as. It was definitely a bigger scale which was interesting to watch I guess but that’s really it lol

#the final table #shows

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saywhatjessie · 5 years ago

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Written for Kathleen for the History Huh? Holiday Exchange! 1.8k (Ao3)

“Yes, Alex, of course I’ve heard Mariah Carrey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’.” Henry said, rolling his eyes and tapping at Alex’s leg where it was propped next to him. “I am gay, you know.”

“And thank God for that.” Alex said, rubbing a hand up over Henry’s hair. “But how am I supposed to know which pieces of American culture you’ve experienced? You didn’t know about ‘Get Low’! I don’t trust any of the education provided to you by that snotty English prep school.”

Henry laughed, softly. “Ah, yes: forget the European history and international policy I was educated in. If there’s no American pop music on the syllabus, the whole system’s a crock.”

“You get it,” Alex said, nodding solemnly. His face only broke when Henry snorted.

“I don’t think most Christmas music is strictly American, though.” Henry argued. “I’d say it’s such a specific genre it’s mostly universally shared.”

Alex grinned. “Let’s test that.”

He lifted his pelvis so he could reach his phone that was tucked into his back pocket and caused Henry to whine at him, disgruntled by Alex’s squirming.

They were huddled together on the couch in Alex’s room in the White House, their New York brownstone not yet ready for them. Alex was sitting sideways on the couch, back against the armrest. One of his legs was extended down the couch to make room for Henry who was laying on his side between Alex and the back of the couch, but mostly on top of Alex. Alex kept one socked foot pressed into the cushions to keep them from toppling off the couch onto the floor.

As twined together as they were, Alex reaching for his phone definitely disturbed Henry’s whole body.

“Oh, shut up,” Alex told him. “We’re doing science.”

He got his phone in front of him, petting over Henry’s head again to apologize for the disruption, and pulled up Spotify.

“Consider this your official Christmas education.”

Henry snorted again, resting his head against Alex’s chest. “I wouldn’t say this is–”

“And you’re shutting up again.” Alex said, pressing play and resting the phone on his knee. “We’re listening now.”

Out of Alex’s phone speaker came some high melodic bell sounds followed immediately by a female singer doing a vocal run of ‘Oh yeah!’

Henry hummed. “Britney Spears.”

Alex looked down at the top of his head. “You know this one?”

“No,” Henry admitted in a grumble. “But any queer worth their salt knows Britney when they hear her.”

Alex chuckled. That was valid.

The song got to the chorus and Alex couldn’t help but mouth along to the lyrics.

Santa, can you hear me?

I have been so good this year.

And all I want is one thing:

tell me my true love is near!

He’s all I want, just for me,

underneath my Christmas tree.

I’ll be waiting here.

Santa, that’s my only wish this year.

Henry rumbled a soft laugh, burying his face in Alex’s sweatshirt. “Love, that is incredibly sappy.”

Alex swatted him, lightly. “Leave Britney Alone.”

Henry laughed again, grinding his forehead into Alex’s sternum and Alex just grinned, bringing his hand up to rest in Henry’s hair.

When that song ended, a new one started.

“Fuck yes,” Alex said, with feeling. “Keeping it in the 90’s.”

“Dear, you were just barely alive in the 90’s.”

“Shhhh!” Alex shushed him. “*NSYNC is singing!”

Henry was right: Alex was born in 1998 and, therefore, most of these songs were just a little bit before his time. But he did have an older sister.

“I do, actually, know this one,” Henry said, humming along to the chorus. Though why he didn’t sing the lyrics, Alex didn’t know. It was literally just ‘Merry Christmas’ over and over again.

“I’m shocked that it’s a boy band that makes its way across the pond to you,” Alex said.

Henry rolled his eyes. “I had an older sister of the nineties as well, Alex.”

Alex got bored of the song halfway through (it really was repetitive) and picked up his phone to find a new song.

Most of the songs Spotify had picked for them were in the same vein: 90’s and early 2000’s stars singing poppy Christmas songs. But a little bit of scrolling found him something truly incredible.

“It’s Christmas in Hollywood,

Santa’s back up in the hood,

so meet me under the mistletoe,

let’s fu-u-uck”

Henry burst out laughing, his convulsions almost enough to shove Alex to the floor. “What is that?”

“Hollywood Undead!” Alex answered, merrily. “They’re not good and this song is actually terrible but it kind of slaps?”

Henry could barely hear any of the lyrics over his laughing but he did manage the jolly voice of Santa on the track saying “If you guide my sleigh I’ll let you fuck my wife.” And that just sent him into a whole new bout of hysterics.

“We should play this at our holiday dinner,” Alex suggested, as the song faded out.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said, choking on a couple late chuckles. “This is the best representation of sharing between our cultures I can imagine.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too,” Alex answered, a stray giggle betraying him.

They managed to laugh through the next song which was someone’s cover of “Santa Baby” but it wasn’t Eartha Kitt so Alex didn’t think it was any real loss.

It wasn’t until a certain guitar riff that Henry shushed him. “Quiet, darling, Darren Criss is singing.”

Alex groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest. “God, you and that guy.”

Henry shushed him again.

Alex rolled his eyes and picked up his phone to look at the song title. “Extraordinary Merry Christmas” from the Glee soundtrack.

And, yes, there was Lea Michele’s voice harmonizing now.

Alex understood, obscurely, the appeal of Glee. The music. The drama. The beautiful people. June had been obsessed with it in the early days and he’d seen a few episodes but he could never really get into it.

Henry, though, was a card carrying Gleek. Which was absolutely absurd but also, weirdly, totally expected. He was totally the type to eat that corny shit up.

Also, he was obsessed with Darren Criss, who played Kurt’s boyfriend Blaine on Glee.

“I guess this song, is kind of alright,” Alex admitted.

Henry turned wild eyes on him. “Do you not hear him? He’s incredible.”

Alex rolled his eyes again. “He’s not even the real Harry Potter,” Alex grumbled.

Henry shushed him.

When the song was over, Alex pulled the phone up and tapped out another search.

He made Henry get up before he hit play.

Henry groaned. “Why.”

“Because we’re going to dance like the worst and most terribly cheesy couple in the entire world,” Alex answered, promptly. “And I get to be Blaine.”

“Wha–” Henry started but then Alex hit play and the opening notes for the Glee version of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ started.

Henry’s eyes lit up but he frowned. “Let me be Blaine, my voice is deeper than yours.”

“Too late!” Alex said because it was Henry’s cue.

“I really can’t stay,” Henry sang falsetto and completely off-pitch.

Alex tried not to laugh over his line. “But Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve got to go ‘way.”

“But baby it’s cold outside!”

They swayed in a circle, arms around each other, trading lines and trying not to laugh at Henry’s absolutely horrendous attempt at falsetto. Alex didn’t know all the words and Henry’s voice kept cracking but they got through the whole song with minimal trouble.

They were laughing to themselves by the end, Henry ducking his head to bring Alex into a long kiss. Alex hummed into it.

The phone kept playing another Christmas song of another slow-ish tempo so they kept dancing, not wanting to stop now they’ve started.

Henry pulled away, resting his forehead on Alex’s. “Why did you get to be Blaine?”

Alex laughed. “Because he’s your favorite. And I wanted to be your favorite.”

Henry kissed him again, humming. “It’s not just because you wanted the boy part?”

“The point of that version is that they’re both the boy part.”

Henry smiled a small smile and leaned down to kiss him again.

They stayed kissing for the rest of the song, and then the opening notes for “Baby It’s Cold Outside” started again, this time the Zooey Deschanell version.

Henry pulled away again. “You know when Kurt and Blaine sang ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ on Glee…” Henry started, licking his lips. “That was the first scene of television I’d ever seen that had a positive and sweetly romantic portrayal of two men.”

Alex pulled his head back a little bit to look at him. “Really?”

Henry nodded. “Every other gay thing on television was always very sexual. Or completely neutered. I was a 13-year old kid having innocent crushes on boys but there was nothing on tv that looked like what I was feeling. Not until that scene.”

Alex grinned, leaning up to plant a kiss on Henry’s jaw. “That’s adorable.”

Henry growled a little in his throat, but turned his head so it was easier for Alex to kiss him.

Alex kissed him on the mouth, pulling away with a smile. “Weird, though, that the song is about date rape.”

Alex grinned wider as he watched Henry’s whole face turn red.

“You have to take the song in context!” Henry hissed. They stopped dancing. “In the 1940’s, it was inappropriate for a woman to be at a man’s house very late without a chaperone! You have to listen to the song with the context of a society in which women are expected to reject men’s advances whether they actually want to or not, and therefore it’s normal and expected for a lady’s gentleman companion to pressure her despite her protests, because he knows she would have to say that whether or not she meant it, and if she really wants to stay she won’t be able to justify doing so unless he offers her an excuse.” Henry was breathing heavily. “The song’s a game of cat and mouse! She even says ‘At least I’m gonna say that I tried’ like she really wants to stay but she knows what people will say if she does.” Henry was sporting the angry eyebrows now and Alex was delighted. “It is disrespectful and historically inaccurate to reduce the song in that way.”

Alex reached up to rub his thumb against the crease of Henry’s eyebrows. “You enormous nerd.”

Alex leaned up and kissed the pout on Henry’s mouth. Henry held firm in his rage for a count of two before he melted and kissed Alex back.

They kissed all through Christina Aguilera’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

#Oops I wrote a thing #Red White & Royal Blue #Red White and Royal Blue #rwrb #rwarb #Firstprince #first prince #I also made the graphic lol

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ofpeachez · 5 years ago

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task 001: character introduction.

(admin tangerine, 21, est) ☼ who’s that hottie, standing outside the love hotel? it’s VERONICA LOMBARDI, a BISEXUAL CISFEMALE, who looks a lot like LEA MICHELE! NIKKI’s insta bio says SHE is an INFLUENCER and is looking for a fun time this summer. SHE is into DADDY/MOMMY KINK & GROUP SEX, but not into SCAT & BLOOD PLAY. by the way, SHE reminds me of TIGHT YOGA PANTS & COLORFUL SUNSETS.

quick infos:

full name: veronica eleanor rosemary lombardi

dob: august 23rd 1988 (she’ll turn 31 this year)

pob: las vegas, nevada.

kinks: daddy***/mommy kink, mild roughness, group sex, public sex, receiving oral (eat her out good and she’ll marry you... too soon) although she enjoys giving oral to girls and/or strap-ons/dildos, mutual masturbation, nipple play, hair pulling squirting, spanking, consensual somnophilia.

anti kinks: blood play, wax play, electric stimulation, bondage, very rough sex, scat, foot play, humiliation & extreme anal (fingering and butt plugs are fine, but there will be very rare anal sex).

3 favorite things: dancing naked at 2am to some electronic music or old rock songs, italian gelato (she’d give you a handjob for a raspberry gelato) & puppies videos on instagram.

3 things she hates: spiders or bugs of any sorts (excluding spider man or ant man or black widow wink wink), people who lack of respect & compassion, bad hair days.

+2 positive traits: easygoing & compassionate

-2 negative traits: gullible & jealous

wanted connections:

TAKEN BY LINCOLN LEWIS & HIGHLY WANTED! ex-husband: idk where i’m going with this, but i have a feeling this would be so interesting if he’d come back to the hotel and they’d reconnect after a few years of being apart and not speaking. bonus points for high sexual tension and cute stuff! suggested fcs: chris hemsworth, jamie dornan, tom hiddleston, john stamos, nick jonas or darren criss.

daddy and/or mommy: just that “caring, loving but also can please all your needs” vibe. spoiler alert, she won’t be the mommy, she’s too much of a sub for that (usually). keanu reeves, bradley cooper, jeremy renner, joel kinnaman / natalie dormer, amy adams, jessica chastain, priyanka chopra, gal gadot, olivia munn, anna hathaway.

TAKEN BY GABRIELLA PEREZ femme fatale: just a woman, preferably younger whom nikki just can’t resist. someone with dominant tendencies. or someone around her age too! suggested fcs: dianna agron, ana de armas, margot robbie, gal gadot.

friends with benefits: GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS no suggested fcs, i just want girls.

sexual tension: it says it all. all fcs!

headcanons

childhood + teenage years:

only child of a loving family of restaurant owners, veronica inherited the best conditions to become a typical italian girl from a just as typical italian family. she was loved by her parents, she loved them. she learned to cook at a very young age and had a noticeable talent. she was the preppy girl from the picture perfect family. she had a dog, alfredo, that she rescued from the streets and who became her only friend for most of her childhood.

in high school, she bonded with a pair of twin siblings who came from a completely different background. from what she knew, their parents were big gamblers and lost most of their savings in casino nights. these people had that edge and gave that down to earth vibe nikki admired yet could not completely comprehend. they were a dynamic trio that balanced one another perfectly. jack (npc) was a total artist who encouraged nikki to express herself, valerie (npc) was very analytical and had a talent at reading through nikki while nikki herself was that sweet figure who was easy to please and could easily please everyone.

when they graduated, valerie confessed she had no idea what she would be doing with her future with no money at all. they were sitting in nikki’s family restaurant and drinking beer in cask with nostalgia and a part of sadness. jack had big plans, he found an apartment in san francisco and wanted to become a graphic designer. nikki, however, was torn between taking over the family business or making a living of her own. that was when valerie drunkenly suggested to work at one of the newly opened strip clubs nearby their neighborhood.

so she did.

twenties:

she turned 18 when she realized she had lost so many years to living in a mold she no longer fit in. she was more than just preppy church outfits and cooking sundays with her mother, she was more than a daddy’s girl who washed tables when the restaurant was closed. what did adults always say? a good education promised a good future, so, veronica applied to the college of southern nevada for a degree in communications with a minor in women’s studies. she had no idea where she was heading, but it was a start.

her parents contributed by driving from class to home every day, they paid her more adult looking clothing and they finally gave her the freedom she never knew she needed until she reached majority.

although jack disappeared from her life, valerie remained very present. they did as they agreed and found a job at a high end strip club in vegas. they made good money instantly without having to do nasty stuff nikki had never been introduced to. within a few months, they saved enough to get matching tattoos, new jewelry and pay for valerie’s apartment. the club provided a living area a few blocks away, but valerie felt better living on her own. nikki tried to mingle and fit in with the other girls, but they were too different. maybe it was the education, maybe it was the background, but the trashy side of this job did not interest the italian girl more than that.

veronica worked as a stripper during college until she graduated with a degree that would soon become irrelevant and useless. with contribution from her parents who never even judged her for her job (it was true nikki did tell them it was just a dancing studio) and with her savings, veronica moved out of nevada and headed to california. she found a small place and joined a community business that organized all kinds of social and sport activities. she became a pro at all yoga, zumba, meditation and dancing activities. she loved to work with the kids, the families and the older people who were just searching for a fun time.

while she was working there, nikki started to get active on social media. she would most dance choreographies to massive songs, making hundreds of thousands of views on youtube. she liked the attention she was getting, but she still preferred her real job the most.

mid-twenties

so she met someone. randomly. they hooked up with no after thoughts, then hooked up again and again and again... it felt like love to them. everything escalated so quickly, but it felt like she was finally meeting her parents’ expectations so nikki went with it. LINCOLN proposed only a couple of months in the relationship, and they got married soon after that. he was smart, attractive, perfect, almost too good to be true. she never thought she would deserve someone like him. they lived together, and their love became very intense. marriage was not about dealing with every issues by fucking all over the place. she loved it, of course, but something was off between them. maybe they were falling out of love, maybe they did not take the time to evaluate their future together, maybe they were not made to be together. or maybe they were, just not at that moment.

they divorced a couple of years later like a couple who noticed they were better off as friends, the thing was they did not remain friends and decided to live life on their own. there was no fighting, plate throwing on the ground, ugly crying and couch sleeping. there were just goodbye kisses and passionate love making for the last time, or so they believed.

after divorce, she decided to quit her job and focused entirely on social medias.

now:

she has been an influencer and youtuber for the past 2-3 years. she posts about cooking, relaxing, fashion, and does a ton of vlogs.

she loves the sun, the vibes and the people of los angeles.

she also decided to open her own yoga and lifestyle studio, where she teaches for all ages and all kinds of people. from yoga to the basics of dancing, she loved to be surrounded with people. her well-developped flexibility from dancing served her beautifully. she hired other instructors but still runs the business while focusing on her instagram, which has 900 000 followers.

she has been divorced for the same amount of time without being able to quite erase LINCOLN from her mind. the truth is she never really dated or hooked up for the fun of it. she focused on work and on discovering new hobbies.

she heard about the love hotel through her friend, valerie, who joked about this being exactly what newly divorced nikki needed as a way to spice up her life. on a just as drunken night as the one that brought them to work as strippers, nikki called and reserved a room. it is taking her completely out of her comfort zone, but she has a feeling that this is for the best.

headcanons:

she is more of a receiver than a giver. she rarely decides to take the lead unless she really wants to or feel comfortable with the other person. she crushes and gets attracted very easily but nothing leads to serious relationships. she enjoys threesomes and being the center of attention in them. she is very comfortable in her body and would walk around naked all the time if it was socially accepted, so she does not mind having an audience too much.

outside of kinky stuff, she’s a romantic at heart. she LOVES to be treated with kindness and to be treated like a princess. she is also willing to do that for her partner, because if marriage taught her one thing, it’s that it takes two to tango. nikki’s at a point in her life when she wants to meet new people and have fun. she had plenty of it when she was stripping and dancing, but being rushed into marriage kind of made her lose herself into a world she was not completely ready to enter back then.

she volunteers at animal shelters and helps playing and socializing pets. she has a few scars here and there of times when it did not go that well with an animal. chances are she might be distracted at all times if she sees a cute puppy or kitty.

her instagram and youtube are filled with dancing videos, cooking videos, song covers, general vlogs and thirst traps. there’s a reason she got so famous from doing almost nothing at all and said reason is her perfect peach butt she just loves to show off.

she’s italian so yeah she’s all about sharing and loving and eating pasta all the time because that is her own definition of a dolce vita. she is kinda close to her parents, but their relationship became a bit rocky when a) she moved out and b) ended her perfect marriage and broke the traditional dream of building a family of her own before she hit thirty.

#lvhtl.intros #about ☼ biography #lvhtl.tasks

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years ago

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Broken Wings, pt. 8

08: Love the way you lie

Summary: Ethan and Grayson are both trying to say goodbye to her, just in case everything goes awry.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word Count: ~ 3000

Broken Wings (Angel AU - G.D.) Masterlist

She laid with her head in his lap, her Y/H/C hair sprawled over his inked thighs as he propped himself up on his elbows. Grayson had spent every waking minute with her, terrified of what's to come once the therapist she called for arrives. He didn't want her risking her current life for a slim possibility of living it until the end only to lose her forever after. Sure, having her die in his arms for centuries has been a living hell, but he always he she'd come back to him after. He always felt her soul is still present. Grayson feared should she change the coarse of her destiny, she'd find peace and her soul would be laid to rest and that...facing a forever without her – the biggest heartache of his existence...that would surely be enough to kill him.

„Whatcu' thinkin' about, angel eyes?“ She teased, her tone playful and airy, so much giddiness hiding behind every letter of every word that Grayson felt his heart die little by little at the thought of losing her. It was a painful ache, a pinch at the core of his being, one that he couldn't fight nor deny.

„You do realize that silence usually means you're back in your broody mood and the bad thoughts are eating away at you?“ She deducts, sitting up to properly look at him, her hair falling all around her beautiful face, framing it in a heavenly manor. Out of all the faces she had in the past, there was never one Grayson couldn't love.

„I'm not broody!“ Grayson defended, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows furrowing, as if the words itself was an insult when he really just wanted to throw her off his scent. He refused to burden her with his gloominess.

„You're as broody as they come.“ She giggled in his face, throwing a leg over his lap, allowing herself a straddling position as her hands came up to his face, holding it as if it's the Sun...and it is. It is a small piece of sunshine in the palm of her hand – beauty and flames, all together. „But I still love you just the same.“ She smiled, her eyes giving off intense longing and aching neediness he knew he couldn't indulge in.

But she was reckless. As always.

It nearly stopped Grayson's heart when he saw her face coming closer to his, her lips pursed and nearly on his lips. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the soft plush of her lips brush the tip of his nose, his hands premature with their action as they were not only on her hips, but already pushing her off in a rough manor she despised.

„Seriously?!“ She exclaimed, her face one of anger and disappointment, a brewing fight just under the surface. „STOP THROWING ME INTO THE SAND LIKE I'M A RAGDOLL!“ She huffed, getting up on her own as Grayson tried to help, which she ignored completely....Of course. She's as stubborn as they get – one of the traits nearly all her previous reincarnations possessed.

„I'm sorry. I just didn't want to risk it.“ Grayson put his hands in his front pockets, managing to keep eye contact with the stormy eyes of his forevermore, wondering how dead he'd be if looks could kill because she had the deadliest eyes he has ever seen. No one, not Y/N, not Amara, absolutely not one had the same fury in their eyes as Caroline. She was unpredictable and perhaps that was the part of why she's different and why she might end the cycle....or it was because of years of mental torture her past lives had subjected her to.

„It's not just about that, Grayson! Okay?!“ And there it is, the avalanche he knew would come. She had been bottling everything in...if you could call it that, but despite her being openly discontent in the past, Grayson knew the look she held in her eyes wasn't a look of someone who simply shows their unhappiness, rather a look of a woman who's keeping in a storm – an enraged look she let out.

„Hey, guys! Darren is here!“ Ethan called out, his voice getting lost in the sound of crashing waves, but they heard him fine.

„NOT NOW!“ They both screamed in unison, allowing Caroline to spew fire.

„You keep saying you want to protect me, but every little bit of protection you provide only hurt me more! YOU FUCKING TOLD ME TO BE WITH ETHAN! And to make matters worse...I actually think I could survive the kiss. I don't think I'm going to die in this life and while I'm not particularly eager to die a horrible death, I'd still try because that's how much confidence I have in us.“ She stopped to draw in a breath, her cheeks flushed a darker pink, one Grayson would usually run his fingertip over, but he feared losing a finger if he tried at all.

„And then you tell me not to try this hypnosis thing? Literally the only thing that would let us be together?!“ She huffed, smacking her hair back against the wind.

„You...do you not want me?“ Her tone finally returned to normal, but it wasn't the normal Grayson had hoped for as he remained silent, allowing her this chance to blow off some steam. He had wanted the cheery, playful Caroline, not the defeated, vulnerable one.

„Is that what this is about? Do you not like this body? Or this personality?“ She began to list, making his eyes bulge and for the first time since she started this rant, Grayson had opened his mouth to speak against her.

„Absolutely not! I love you – all of you!“ He stepped toward her in his attempt to prove it so, but she stepped back at the same time, not wanting the contact because this is when her illness came to collect, convincing her she's not good enough...not for him. Convincing her he didn't want her. Not this version, at least.

„Then why do I feel like I don't measure up? Huh? How can you ever claim to love me, when I'm never the same woman you met in the past life? I'm never the same in any way, so how can you love me so unconditionally? Maybe it's just a pattern – a habit of sorts. Because I don't think any of us could ever fill the giant hole Y/N left in your heart and I may be mistaken but“, a choked sob stopped her mid sentence, not allowing her to continue as she looked away with tears in her eyes...those beautiful eyes, her lips thinning as they set in a firm line.

„But I don't think I am...She was the original and I...all of us were merely fading copies of the masterpiece you always wished to have. And as all copies tend to do, we're nothing like the original...no one can paint the same image thousands of times.“ She shrugged, taking note of his stunned silence and near desperation as a confirmation of sorts, one she knew he wouldn't utter but lingered deep in his subconsciousness.

She turned on her heel, walking back to meet with Darren. If she got lost in time, at least she'll make it worth something. Perhaps her breaking the curse at the beginning will give Y/N and Grayson the happy ending they deserved. Perhaps Ethan will be happier without ever knowing or losing Amara. Perhaps Cameron will be happier without chaperoning her brothers across the world and a new copy of herself who was probably the least favorite part of her immortality.

Wiping her tears away, she took in a deep breath – one that filled her lungs and set a bundle of oxygen running through her body and to her brain, clearing her troubled thoughts enough to make herself seem presentable for Darren. Otherwise, he wouldn't help her – any sign of instability and her plan is gone.

And then she saw the older man, her legs taking her to him faster and faster until she had her arms wrapped around him. She had the only man who believed she wasn't insane with her again and it did give her some solid ground to build herself back up again.

„You needed me?“ He chuckled, noticing the difference on her already, but remaining quiet about it.

„There's so much to tell.“

They spent hours talking, enough to explain everything, but not nearly enough for him to wrap his mind around it – especially when the fallen angel she spoke of was nowhere to be found.

„What if you can't come back from it?“ Darren questioned, his previously cheerful persona replaced with a worried man.

„Then I don't...Better than spending the rest of my life fighting visions of the past, alone.“ She bit on the inside of her bottom lip, gnawing on it as he eyed her carefully.

„Caroline...“ Darren tried, but he knew she made her mind up already. Anything he says will fall on deaf ears.

„Please. I'm ready. Just do it. Now.“ She pleaded, her hand atop of his, tightly holding onto him.

Reluctantly, he agreed, but not immediately. „Tomorrow.“ He said.

„Okay.“ She whispered, giving the man time to recuperate and put himself back together. She needed some time too.

Caroline sat on her bed, looking at her bare feet in thought. She could still see flashes of her previous lives whenever she shut her eyes close or with eyes wide open if she concentrated hard enough.

„Care?“ Ethan's voice broke her focus, stopping her from delving deeper into her mind.

„Yeah?“ Her voice is small, her tone weak. She's on edge and he sees it. He's gotten too good at spotting people's weaknesses and exploiting them for his own gain. But he also knew she'd appreciate him not commenting on it, so he didn't, even if he felt the itch to do so.

„Can I ask you something?“ He licks his bottom lip, coming closer to her only to sit on the bed across from hers...where her roommate used to sleep before jumping to her death.

„Always.“ She offered a reassuring smile, despite not knowing if she had anything left to offer to anyone. Ethan seemed to take it to heart, giving her a small smile in return, the best one he could afford to give without it looking forced.

„Do I stand a chance? If you come back and the curse isn't lifted, would you be mine?“ Ethan decided to put it all out there, make sure she knows she has choices and Grayson isn't the only one. And perhaps she was right, he did see Amara in her and it drew him in for she was so much alike her in too many ways for it to be a coincidence – more than any other version of her ever was. But Ethan found he loves the debris of Caroline's essence as well, even if those debris longed for his brother more than they'll ever long for him.

„I...I don't know.“ She was honest. A part of her was screaming no, because how could she ever love someone that wasn't Grayson? How could she love a man who looked like him, but wasn't him? How could she love a man she knew loved another that lived deep within her? But another part of her was wistful and it wanted Ethan and the easy love he brought with him. It was so effortless with him – no looming curses, no death caused by a simple kiss...he was kind and understanding, beautiful and thrilling and sexy as the hell he belonged in. But he wasn't Grayson...even if he would have made her life an unforgettable adventure.

„At least it's not a no.“ Ethan chuckles dryly, moving over to sit beside her, his weight shifting the mattress, tipping Y/N into him.

„I gotcha!“ He held onto her, his eyes immersed in hers as the panic of possibly falling fled her and he couldn't help but think how he wished Grayson wasn't around anymore. How he wished his brother was gone and he could have this chance with this incredible girl who would surely drive him insane five times a day, but he'd still be happy. He'd still count his lucky stars for having her in his life.

„I really want to kiss you right now.“ Ethan admitted, making her mouth go dry. She couldn't lie, she wanted to kiss him too. Just once, simply to know how it feels, to let him have that one kiss that would give him a piece of Amara back. She didn't want him to be miserable and she didn't want to be the reason why. So yes, she wanted to kiss him. But every fiber of her being told her not to.

„Ditto.“ She whispered, smiling as he frowned because he knew that if she hadn't replied with actions, but only words, she wouldn't do it. He knew her enough to know she's a wild one and considering her lips weren't on his, they won't be. Not for a while, at least.

„Look...whatever you see or hear tomorrow, make sure you come back in time, okay? If you can't convince any of us to bring you up, disappear. Don't let us touch you until you find a way out. Okay?“ Ethan repeated, swallowing thickly because he still remembered the horror of Y/N's death. It was gruesome and he never wanted for Caroline to feel it nor see it.

„I'll do my best, Mr. Bossy!“ She embraced him, her hands wrapped around him, hooked at the back of his neck as he buried his face in hers, inhaling her – all of her.

„Got time for one more?“ Another voice, one that sends chills down her back spoke, her eyes opening at the sound. She'd know his voice anywhere.

„I don't think it's the best idea.“ She detached herself from her favorite demon, a title she'd ever tell him about, only to wrap her arms around herself, needing an extra layer of protection despite the fact the hurt he causes is from the inside and there's not shield for those kinds of injuries.

„Please.“ Grayson's plea was the hardest thing she could ever hear right now, because he never just asked – he poured every human emotion into it, giving it weight of a hundred collapsing stars, wrecking her defenses.

With a nod, Ethan had decided to place a kiss on her forehead before heading out, respecting her choice. He didn't give up completely, but he respected her primary choice is Grayson at this particular time.

„You do know all those things you said on the beach are just a figment of your untamed imagination mixed with insecurities, right?“ He began, making her scoff.

„That's not an apology I hear, rather a start up for a new fight.“ She sent him a glare, one that meant he better stay in his position because if he came closer, she'd let her evil out.

„No. What I mean is, none of what you said is true. I never fell in love with your face, Caroline, although it's a very beautiful one. I never looked for body shapes – you've had them all. And yes, sometimes your personality is difficult to deal with, but I still loved you. I loved you because your soul is pure light that calls to me like a siren. If your soul hurts, I hurt. If your soul is happy, I'm happy. If you're feeling lost, I'm desperate. It's like two magnets, pushing and pulling in the need to be as one. Your beauty lies in the unchanging goodness of your soul and heart that can be a stubborn nightmare at times, but it never lessened the beauty. It never stopped calling out to me. I never stopped running to it when it did.“ Grayson sighed, deciding to be brave and step closer, brushing his knuckles over her cheekbone as she turned away from him.

But then she turned back, her eyes shooting up and connecting with his, her heart jumping out her chest with their proximity.

„I can't help but be insecure. You've known every dark, twisted, dusty part of my soul and you have so many memories with...me! But I don't remember most of them! It's like...Imagine if I dated a thousand versions of you and you didn't remember...It's silly, but I'm jealous and I'm bitter about not remembering. And I'm so pissed for being put in a position to be jealous and bitter about my own damn self.“ She stood up, stopping Grayson's breathing for the second time in a day, but this time she didn't try to kiss him anywhere close to his face. She just wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest.

„Just know I love you. Whatever happens, that can't change.“ She whispered, feeling him shift their weight as he laid her down on the bed, half his weight pinning her under but she didn't complain. She enjoyed feeling him on top of her, wanting not only a kiss anymore...she wanted him in every sinful way possible. She wanted to feel him around her, inside her, enveloping her entirely. She wanted to be his, just once in this damned life she was given. Just once.

However, without even knowing, she fell asleep to the sound beat of his heart, her mind in the gutter, but still on him.

The morning came too soon.

„Wake up, love birds. Time to do some time traveling! Curse breaking!“ Cameron clapped, ignoring the groans and grunts and their cutesy snuggling closer together. But even they knew it couldn't last, slowly getting up in silence, simply looking at one another. While Caroline was still convinced half the things Grayson told her last night were lies to make her feel better, she didn't care. She loved the way he lied, just as she loved him.

And she would fight for him.

Tags: @dancerwriter @peacedolantwins @heeydolan @accalialionheart @graydolan12 @xalayx @fallinginlove-16 @deeteeeeevee @heyits-claire @riverdalesserpent @dolandolll

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan angel au #grayson dolan au #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan demon au #ethan dolan au

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winterisakiller · 5 years ago

Text

Get Better - Chapter Five

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 5/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri @theheartofpenelope @noplacelikehome77 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @nonsensicalobsessions @blacksuitofdoom @just-the-hiddles @theoneanna @wolfsmom1

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER FIVE

There was something about the start of full dress rehearsals Cath had always found fascinating. It was the chaos which ensued, keeping everyone on their toes and running like mad, that she found enjoyed like nothing else. She’d arrived at the theater early, as had become her habit, to get her station to rights. And, honestly, to clear her head for the task at hand. This wasn’t her first production by any stretch but it was her first as lead make-up artist and the thought both pleased and terrified her. It wasn’t a huge production a la Wicked or any other number of large scale musical productions she’d done grunt work on, but it was still a major step forward career-wise. The butterfly-like nerves in her stomach fluttered uneasily at the thought.

Cath had been working exclusively in theatre, with the occasional dabble in television production (hey the money was decent and a steady gig was something she certainly wouldn’t turn her nose up at), for the last five years. When she’d told her mother she’d wanted to pursue an actual career in theatrical make-up and design rather than just mess around with it in her spare time (as she’d done throughout secondary school and her first year of uni), Cath wasn’t terribly shocked by her lack of enthusiasm. Her mother was a practical woman, having raised three children mostly on her own after her divorce, and while she supported and encouraged her children, she had always instilled in them the need to make sound and responsible choices. And true to form, she had made her concerns quite clear.

“Darling, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are talented. I’ve seen the work you’ve put in for school productions and the local theatre…But how steady will the work actually be? I just want to make sure you’ve honestly thought this through and can make it work.”

Her concerns were valid and in those first few years Cath struggled to make ends meet. She’d taken any job she could find, often working hellishly long hours for frustratingly little pay. But slowly things started to take off. She’d landed a steady gig at one of the smaller theatres in the West End and had worked herself as hard as she could; learning not only to improve her craft but dabbling in costuming and whatever else she could get her hands on. That job had led to another and another until she found herself booked for most of the year. Television gigs paid well and she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the sets but theatre had always held her heart. Probably always would.

She took a long, slow sip of her coffee, enjoying the smooth warmth as it slid down her throat. It was one of her guilty pleasures….Well, maybe not guilty but certainly a pleasure. Take away coffee…Lattes in particular where something she tried very hard to not indulge in; save for when she was starting a new show. During that time the coffee shop around the corner from her flat frankly saw more of her paycheck than she did. It was just simply easier to let someone else make her the caffeine she desperately needed. She let out a soft sigh and tried hard not to feel too guilty about the coffee press sitting unused on her counter.

The sound of the door opening pulled Cath back to herself. She turned to find Maggie and Lorna making their way into the small workspace draped with bags and take away coffees which they quickly divested themselves of on the table by the door. Cath had worked with both women on previous projects and had been thrilled when their names appeared on her work log. Both were exceptionally talented and made the often hectic hours much more bearable.

“Cath!” Lorna cried, launching herself at the shorter woman and wrapping her in tight embrace. Cath stumbled backwards and nearly fell into one of the lighted workstations. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Laughter tumbled from her throat as Cath returned the embrace. “I’m glad to be here. Let’s try to keep it that way, eh?”

Maggie snorted a laugh. “Yeah, let’s not kill our boss on the first day. Wouldn’t send the best message to the production team, now would it?”

Lorna shrugged, “Fair enough.”

The rest of the morning passed with little fanfare. Bags were piled in the corner near the curtained dressing areas, one for each actor, filled with costume pieces and various accessories waiting final approval from the production team. As workstations were slowly set to rights and their coffees consumed, the three women bustled around the small room waiting for the rest of the production team to arrive; the actors weren’t due in until closer to eleven. A quick glance at the wall clock told Cath it was rapidly approaching nine.

Lorna puttered around the various bags and pulled the pieces of clothing from them one at a time, hanging them up along the back wall. Simple pieces that fit with the ideas that Jaime had thrown around during pre-production; jeans and blouses for Emma and various jeans, suits, shirts, and blazers for Robert and Jerry. Cath and Lorna worked together ironing and steaming the pieces so they wrinkle free and ready to grab and go once the actors arrived.

Maggie flitted around the room, getting the remaining loose ends settled; extra kits and pieces of clothing that would be used if alterations were needed. Humming to herself, Maggie moved around the small room. Humming turned to singing and soon Cath and Lorna joined in, belting out the words to ridiculous late 90’s/early 2000’s pop songs. Laughing, Cath wandered to her own bag, pulling out her mobile to provide actually music for their impromptu karaoke session. The three women danced around the room, laughing, dancing, and singing at the top of their lungs.

Applause from the doorway was the first clue that the three of them were no longer alone. Cath squeaked in alarm as she spun around, finding the play’s director, Jaime, laughing hysterically at the door, Zawe standing beside him doubled over in laughter as well. She quickly grabbed her mobile from the table and paused the music. “So um…Welcome!” Cath started, laughing as well, “We’re here all week.”

Zawe clapped and darted forward to pull Cath into a tight hug. “I’m so thrilled you’re here!”

Cath laughed and returned the embrace, “Me too! So come on in, let me introduce you to my team.” She beamed at the fact that she had a team; that would certainly take some getting used to. Cath made quick introductions and the four women fell quickly into conversation regarding theatre in general.

There was another knock on the doorframe and looking up, Cath found a moderately tall, bearded brunette man standing in the doorway, whom she recognized as Charlie Cox, smiling warmly. He was quickly ushered over and introductions were made once more. Jaime joined the fray and he and Charlie were quickly pulled into conversation with Lorna regarding costumes and character ideas.

Seeing everyone sufficiently occupied, Zawe had taken Cath by the hand and led her to one of the opened stations. The two women quickly fell into conversation, joking and catching up on what had been happening in each other’s lives. Cath hadn’t had the chance to speak with Zawe since the gala a few months back and was thrilled to hear that the book she’d been working on was finally preparing for release. Cath had worked with Zawe on a handful of projects over the past several years and they’d hit it off almost immediately. They were close in age, had similar tastes in books and movies, and shared a similar sense of humor. They’d passed many an early morning shoot laughing themselves silly.

“…So there I was standing there with the back of my dress wide open, trying to grab at the bleeding zipper when Darren, our director, walks in with some poor bloke from the local paper.” Cath threw back her head, laughing at the image Zawe had painted. “Needless to say that was certainly one interview I’ll never forget.”

“God, Zawe, I can only imagine. At least you were mostly dressed. And it certainly gave the show write up a bit of color.” Cath joked, dodging the playful swat Zawe threw her way. “Besides, you remember that morning in Devon? When I got locked out of my hotel room and had to go on set in my dress from the night before…The very one that had gotten soaked in wine when that man lost his balance and fell into our table?” She waved her hands wildly, mimicking her panicked reaction to the flying wine. “I still don’t know how I didn’t get crucified for that. You remember how bloody strict Jaz was.”

Zawe laughed and nodded. “Yes! Oh that was quite the talk of the set.” Her attention waivered at something over Cath’s shoulder, face breaking into a smile as she waved at the doorway behind them.

Cath turned, finding herself standing face to chest with a tall, auburn haired man. His blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of black square framed glasses, but they were no less arresting for it. There was something about the way in which they took her in, the colors swirling between blue and green, which fascinated her. A scruffy beard covered his cheeks and chin, recently trimmed she noted given its length. His hair was just a touch too long, curly and just this side of disarray. He looked completely different from the clean faced, strong jawed man she’d seen on film posters but she’d recognized him all the same. The show’s second leading man, Tom Hiddleston.

—

The door closed behind him with a bang, causing Tom to wince as he glanced back to make sure he’d not caused any permanent damage to either door or frame. All looked well enough and that would have to do. He glanced once more at his watch, cursing out loud as he took in the time. Fucking hell, he was late. But if...Just maybe if he could make it to the underground station and catch the next arriving train, he would make it to the theatre close enough to call time.

He hadn’t meant to be late; he’d had every intention of making it out of the house and to the theatre on time. That obviously wasn’t going to happen now. He let out an exasperated sigh. Possibly going out the night before had been a mistake. But it had been Daniel’s birthday and he hadn’t seen him in ages. They’d been friends since RADA and did their best to keep in touch over the years; which had been difficult considering their hectic schedules and life in general. When Daniel called the night before and asked if Tom could swing by the pub for a few drinks in honor of his birthday, he had eagerly agreed; looking forward to spending a few hours with old friends. But as these things tended to go, a few drinks turned into talking and suddenly it was nearing midnight and last call.

Tom had made it home and to bed slightly after one and woke at nearly ten to discover that the alarm he’d sworn he’d set either hadn’t been set or hadn’t gone off. He cursed profusely, earning him a confused look from Bobby. He’d thrown on the first clean pair of jeans and jumper he found (the perks of minimalizing his wardrobe) and shoved his feet hastily into his boots before charging down the stairs, Bobby following quickly at his heels. Rounding the corner, he skidded into the kitchen and then through to the back room. He pushed open the back garden door, Bobby barked once and trotted out to do his business. Once Bobby was fed and shut in his kennel, Tom had grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table by the front door and sprinted out of it, the door slamming behind him.

His jog to the underground station was thankfully uneventful and he’d managed to catch the next arriving train, though it was a very near thing. The crowd in Leister Square was easy enough to navigate and he’d only bumped into one or two people in his flight, apologizing as he jogged through the square and onto a side street. Tom felt himself fill with relief as the Harold Pinter theatre came into view. He made his way across the street and up into the stage door entrance, greeting the staff mulling around it warmly. He raced up the stairs as quickly as his feet could carry him, hoping he wasn’t as late as he feared.

Tom could hear laughter echoing from the opened dressing room door as he climbed the last few steps and onto the landing. He was mostly on time, the quick glance at his watch showed it was only a few minutes past eleven. Not the best impression he’d ever made, but certainly not the worst and there was nothing he could do about it presently. With a smile, he made his way through the doorway and into the brightly lit dressing room.

His attention fell first on Zawe, perched on a stool and chatting animatedly with a short woman in dark jeans and an oversized light green jumper. There was something familiar about her, even with her back was turned to him, but he couldn’t quite seem to put a finger on why. It wasn’t until she’d thrown her head back and laughed, a bright and rich sound, when realization struck him. The woman from the Pinter Gala in October. Cath. He laughed despite himself. What were the odds?

She looked absolutely lovely; laughing warmly at whatever she and Zawe had been discussing. Her voice animated and full of warmth as she waved her hands around to emphasize the point she was making. Her long, dark hair was pulled back and piled in a lop-sided bun, though a few stray strands had fallen out of their bindings and had been pushed behind her ear. Zawe smiled at him when she’d turned her head and found him standing by the door and quickly waved him over.

His breath caught in his throat as she turned around, confusion painted across her face. Her dark blue eyes flashing first in surprise then in recognition. Her face broke into a warm and welcoming smile. God, she is stunning.

“Cath this is Tom, my long suffering cuckold of a husband….For the next few months at least.” Zawe gestured at Tom, a playful and warm smile spreading across her face. “Tom, this is Cath. She’s going to be responsible for making us look pretty. Though for you, I suspect she has her work cut out for her.” There was a brief pause before all three burst into laughter.

God, the thought stole across Tom’s mind, she has a wonderful laugh. He quickly shook the thought away, extending his hand to hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Cath took his hand, smiling, and shook it firmly. Her hand was small, dwarfed in his own, smooth and warm. He had no desire to let her or it go.

“Alright,” Jaime yelled, standing up and clapping his hands. The three of them turned to face the director. “Since we’re all here, let’s get started.”

—

Tom poured himself into the make-up chair, quite ready to be done for the day. He’d forgotten how draining theatre could be, no matter how much he enjoyed it. Their first official rehearsal had gone well; they’d ran through the play twice, stopping occasionally to work on blocking or change a delivery of a line. It was comforting, being in costume (even if the costume was close enough to what he’d wear outside of the theatre) and full make-up (God, though it made face itch something fierce), it made things feel more…real. But blast it all, he was tired.

Cath smiled at him, make-up remover in hand. “Long day?” she joked, handing him the soaked wash cloth. Tom smiled and took it gratefully, wiping his face with a sigh.

“I’d forgotten how much this stuff itches.”

“But it makes you look oh so pretty,” Cath teased, taking the wash cloth back and getting the bits he’d missed the first time around. “You guys are quite good,” she murmured, placing the cloth into the dirty linen bin by her feet and pulling out a bottle of light moisturizer. She pumped a small amount onto her hands, rubbing it between them before reaching and applying it to his slightly reddened face.

“Thank you,” he answered, trying not to think about how nice her touch felt on his skin.

They’d chatted quite a bit in the run up to actually getting himself, Charlie, and Zawe on the stage; and he’d found he very much enjoyed her company. She made him laugh with an ease that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was warm and genuine; what you saw was you got. They’d talked briefly about his work; she’d seen him in Coriolanus, a friend of a friend had gotten tickets and invited her along, and she’d confessed to being quite impressed with his work in it, even if he was a fair bit shouty at times. She’d seen one or two of the Marvel films and had a fair grasp on his role in them, but they hadn’t really been her cup of tea.

He’d been almost grateful for her lack of response to his fame, or infamy depending on how you looked at it. It was a wonderful change of pace. She asked him questions about his experiences on set and what had lead him to acting in the first place. He, in turn, asked her about the work she’d done, in theatre and in television, he’d been pleased to find out, and they’d shared stories about long days on set or backstage antics they’d encountered.

“Alright,” she declared, leaning back with a soft smile. “All done. You, good sir, are free to go.”

The loss of her warmth against him was disheartening in a way he did not wish to explore anytime soon.

He returned her smile. “Thank you, my lady. I look forward to working with you in future.” Tom stood and headed back to the screened area in the far corner of the room to change back into his street clothes. Had he turned back, he would have caught the faint blush that spread across Cath’s face at his words.

—

Tom cursed as he caught sight of the time. He was late. Of fucking course he was late. God, what a mess. His hair was plastered to his head and he hadn’t had time to do anything save brush it from his face as he ran from the house and down the street towards the Underground station.

Bobby, the little shit, had been an unholy terror. He’d rushed out the garden door that morning, with complete disregard for the sheets of rain that were belting down (at the rate it was falling, Tom was thrilled to death it wasn’t snow), and dived head first into the muddy flower beds instead of calmly doing his business and rushing back inside for breakfast. Tom, knowing the horror it was to wash the foul beast, charged after him, winding up soaked in the process. Both muddy and thoroughly pissed at each other, man and beast made their way inside the house. Bathing Bobby had been an exercise in mutual frustration. The spaniel whined and growled through the whole process, swiping paws at his master in a fruitless attempt at escape. The bathroom was a disaster, water and mud splashed over the floors and walls and Tom groaned, knowing what a nightmare it would be to clean. Toweled dry and still growling intermittently, Bobby was unceremoniously shut in his kennel and his food bowl shoved in after.

Grumbling, Tom took the stairs two at a time and made as quick a work of cleaning the guest bath as he could. He’d just loaded the remaining towels into the washer when he caught sight of the time off the clock in his kitchen. His eyes bugged, how had it gotten so late?

Another string of curses followed Tom up the stairs once again as he dashed into his bedroom and grabbed clean clothing from the wardrobe (his usual dark jeans and a jumper). He ran into the bathroom, cursing the fact that he didn’t have time for a proper shower. And certainly no thanks to the beast in his backroom.

He grabbed a wash cloth and wiped the mud and dirt from his face and arms as best he could before pulling his jeans and jumper on. He sat on his bed to get himself settled in his socks and boots, knowing that with his luck, if he tried to do this while standing he’d fall and break his neck. That would be the icing on the cake of this foul day.

Dressed and still rather cross, Tom grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table and then his umbrella from the hall tree, quickly shrugging into his wool coat, before dashing out the door. The rain was still coming down in unrelenting sheets and the jog from his front door to the station had his boots and the cuffs of his jeans soaked through. He grimaced but knew there was little he could do for it now. At the ticket gate he paused and pulled his mobile from his pocket, quickly dialing the theatre, hoping to catch someone and inform them of his tardiness.

The phone rang once. Then twice before the line clicked and a warm female voice answered. “Hello?”

He recognized Cath’s voice immediately and made a determined effort to keep his frustration in check. Absolutely none of this was her fault. He took a deep breath and explained as quickly as he could. “It’s Tom, I’m running late. It’s been…A fair bit hectic this morning. But I am on my way.”

“Alright, Tom.” There was a clear hint of laughter in her voice, but she held it back remarkably well. “Take care. See you when you get here.”

Tom echoed her statement and ended the call, shoving his mobile back into his pocket. He made his way hastily through the barrier and down the escalator towards the filling platform. He brushed his wet hair from his face as he waited for the next train. He mentally cursed his lack of coffee but there hadn’t been any time and hoped against hope that there would be some at the theatre. Or that he could possibly duck out at some point and hit the Costa a few streets down. As long as he got caffeine somewhere (and in the relatively near future) he didn’t care.

By the time the train had pulled into the station and Tom had made his way from the platform and onto the street, the rain had died to a slow drizzle. He rushed from the station towards the theatre passing the aforementioned Costa with a longing look; he was far too late to risk stopping now, no matter how badly he wanted to. He nodded at John, one of the security at the stage door, and climbed the stairs two at a time. His watch had him at twenty minutes late and he cringed. He’d been doing so well with his time management in the last few weeks and this blip stung.

He burst through the dressing room door, pulling off his coat, hanging it up, and dropping the umbrella by the door. “So sorry,” he called. Charlie and Zawe were dressed and sitting at their respective stations, chatting with each other and with Lorna and Maggie. They looked up at his entrance and called greetings out.

Cath emerged from the back, smiling. “You made it!”

She quickly ushered him over towards his station. His eyes widened as he took in the waiting take away cup of coffee and brownie awaiting him. Gods, he could have kissed her for her thoughtfulness. He blinked the thought away and settled quickly into his chair before turning back to her. “You are a lifesaver. Honestly, thank you.”

“Can’t have you falling off stage because you’ve not had the requisite amount of caffeine in your system, now can we?” They both laughed and Tom reached gratefully for the gently steaming coffee, taking a tentative sip. It burned, but in the best way and he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth and the smooth bitterness. “Would you two like a moment alone?”

Cath’s teasing words snapped Tom back to himself and he blushed, quickly putting the cup back onto the counter. “Nah,” he quipped, once he’d recovered himself. “I trust your discretion.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot, Hiddleston,” she teased, not bothering to hide her laughter. “Who would have thought you were into exhibition?”

Tom shrugged, enjoying the playful if not slightly evocative teasing. “Why do you think I got into acting?”

Cath only laughed harder, shaking her head as she turned to grab a towel. “What happened to you, Tom? Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s a long story,” he grumbled, grabbing the coffee once more and taking another long sip. “Involving a stubborn dog and far too much rain.”

“Yikes.” She rubbed the towel over his head, drying his hair as best she could. A smirk spread across her face as she spotted a muddy paw print on the side of his neck. “Looks like the dog won, though.” She pointed at the spot and Tom let out a groan. “He marked you.”

“Stupid bloody dog.”

Cath chuckled to herself, wiping the mark from his neck and dropping the towel into the dirty linen bin. She reached down and grabbed the hairdryer, making sure it was plugged in before running it over Tom’s unruly hair, making sure it was well and truly dry. “Alright,” she announced, shutting off the hairdryer and placing it back in its holster. “That’s about as good as we can get. Now scoot.”

Tom laughed, thanking her again for the coffee and for fixing the mess his morning had made of his hair. “You really are a lifesaver, Cath.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Now off with you, before we both get yelled at for your tardiness.”

With a smile and a wave, Tom made his way from the dressing room towards the stairs leading to the stage. Cath watched as he went, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of an errant curl sticking up at the back of his head. Silly man, she thought to herself. You are going to be a world of trouble, aren’t you?

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

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winterisakillerwrites · 5 years ago

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Get Better - Chapter Five

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 5/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

CHAPTER FIVE

Laughter tumbled from her throat as Cath returned the embrace. “I’m glad to be here. Let’s try to keep it that way, eh?”

Maggie snorted a laugh. “Yeah, let’s not kill our boss on the first day. Wouldn’t send the best message to the production team, now would it?”

Lorna shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Zawe clapped and darted forward to pull Cath into a tight hug. “I’m so thrilled you’re here!”

—

The door closed behind him with a bang, causing Tom to wince as he glanced back to make sure he’d not caused any permanent damage to either door or frame. All looked well enough and that would have to do. He glanced once more at his watch, cursing out loud as he took in the time. Fucking hell, he was late. But if…Just maybe if he could make it to the underground station and catch the next arriving train, he would make it to the theatre close enough to call time.

God, the thought stole across Tom’s mind, she has a wonderful laugh. He quickly shook the thought away, extending his hand to hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Cath took his hand, smiling, and shook it firmly. Her hand was small, dwarfed in his own, smooth and warm. He had no desire to let her or it go.

“Alright,” Jaime yelled, standing up and clapping his hands. The three of them turned to face the director. “Since we’re all here, let’s get started.”

—

Cath smiled at him, make-up remover in hand. “Long day?” she joked, handing him the soaked wash cloth. Tom smiled and took it gratefully, wiping his face with a sigh.

“I’d forgotten how much this stuff itches.”

“Thank you,” he answered, trying not to think about how nice her touch felt on his skin.

“Alright,” she declared, leaning back with a soft smile. “All done. You, good sir, are free to go.”

The loss of her warmth against him was disheartening in a way he did not wish to explore anytime soon.

—

The phone rang once. Then twice before the line clicked and a warm female voice answered. “Hello?”

“Alright, Tom.” There was a clear hint of laughter in her voice, but she held it back remarkably well. “Take care. See you when you get here.”

Cath emerged from the back, smiling. “You made it!”

Cath’s teasing words snapped Tom back to himself and he blushed, quickly putting the cup back onto the counter. “Nah,” he quipped, once he’d recovered himself. “I trust your discretion.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot, Hiddleston,” she teased, not bothering to hide her laughter. “Who would have thought you were into exhibition?”

Tom shrugged, enjoying the playful if not slightly evocative teasing. “Why do you think I got into acting?”

Cath only laughed harder, shaking her head as she turned to grab a towel. “What happened to you, Tom? Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s a long story,” he grumbled, grabbing the coffee once more and taking another long sip. “Involving a stubborn dog and far too much rain.”

“Stupid bloody dog.”

Tom laughed, thanking her again for the coffee and for fixing the mess his morning had made of his hair. “You really are a lifesaver, Cath.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Now off with you, before we both get yelled at for your tardiness.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Cath #Get Better

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dark-and-twisty-01 · 7 years ago

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Atlanta “Child Murders”

The curious and controversial string of deaths that sparked a two-year reign of terror in Atlanta, Georgia, has been labeled “child murders,” even though a suspect ultimately blamed for 23 of 30 “official” homicides was finally convicted only in deaths of two adult ex-convicts. Today, nearly two decades after that suspect’s arrest, the case remains, in many minds, an unsolved mystery.

Investigation of the case began, officially, on July 28, 1979. That afternoon, a woman hunting empty cans and bottles in Atlanta stumbled on a pair of corpses, carelessly concealed in roadside undergrowth. One victim, shot with a .22 caliber weapon, was identified as 14-year-old Edward Smith, reported missing on July 21. The other was 13-year-old Alfred Evans, last seen alive on July 25; the coroner ascribed his death to “probably” asphyxiation. Both dead boys, like all of those to come, were African-American.

On September 4, Milton Harvey, age 14, vanished during a neighborhood bike ride. His body was recovered three weeks later, but the cause of his death remains officially “unknown.” Yusef Bell, a 9 year old, was last seen alive when his mother sent him to the store on October 21. Found dead in an abandoned school November 8, he had been manually strangled by a powerful assailant.

Angel Lenair, age 12, was the first recognized victim of 1980. Reported missing on March 4, she was found six days later, tied to a tree with her hands bound behind her. The first female victim, she had been sexually abused and strangled; someone else’s panties were extracted from her throat.

On March 11, Jeffrey Mathis vanished on an errand to the store. Eleven months would pass before recovery of his skeletal remains, advanced decomposition ruling out a declaration on the cause of death. On May 18, 14-year-old Eric Middlebrooks left home after receiving a telephone call from persons unknown. Found the next day, his death was blamed on head injuries, inflicted with a blunt instrument.

The terror escalated that summer. On June 9, Christopher Richardson, 12, vanished en route to a neighborhood swimming pool. Latonya Wilson was abducted from her home on June 22, the night before her seventh birthday, bringing federal agents into the case. The following day, 10-year-old Aaron Wyche was reported missing by his family. Searchers found his body on June 24, lying beneath a railroad trestle, his neck broken. Originally dubbed an accident, Aaron’s death was subsequently added to the growing list of dead and missing blacks.

Anthony Carter, age 9, disappeared while playing near his home on June 6, 1980; recovered the following day, he was dead from multiple stab wounds. Earl Terrell joined the list on July 30, when he vanished from a public swimming pool. Skeletal remains discovered on January 9th, 1981, would yield no clues about the cause of death.

Next up on the list was 12-year-old Clifford Jones, snatched off the street and strangled on August 20. With the recovery of his body in October, homicide detectives interviewed five witnesses who named his killer as a white man, later jailed in 1981 on charges of rape and sodomy. Those witnesses provide details of the crime consistent with the placement and condition of the victim’s body, but detectives chose to ignore their sworn statements, listing Jones with victims of the “unknown” murderer.

Darren Glass, an 11-year-old, vanished near his home on September 14, 1980. Never found, he joins the list primarily because authorities don’t know what else to do with his case. October’s victim was Charles Stephens, reported missing on the ninth and recovered the next day, his life extinguished by asphyxiation. Capping off the month, authorities discovered skeletal remains of Latonya Wilson on October 28, but they could not determine how she died.

On November 1, nine-year-old Aaron Jackson’s disappearance was reported to police by frantic parents. The boy was found on November 2, another victim of asphyxiation. Patrick Rogers, 15, followed on November 10. His pitiful remains, skull crushed by heavy blows, were not unearthed until February 1981.

Two days later after New Year’s, the elusive slayer picked off Lubie Geter, strangling the 14-year-old and dumping his body where it would not be found until February 5. Terry Pue, 15, went missing on January 22 and was found the next day, strangled with a cord or piece of rope. This time, detectives said that special chemicals enabled them to lift the suspect’s fingerprints from Terry’s corpse. Unfortunately, they were not on file with any law enforcement agency in the United States.

Patrick Baltazar, age 12, disappeared on February 6. His body was found a week later, marked by ligature strangulation, and the skeletal remains of Jeffrey Mathis were discovered nearby. a 13-year-old, Curtis Walker, was strangled on February 19 and found the same day. Joseph Bell, 16, was asphyxiated on March 2. Timothy Hill, On March 11, was recorded as a drowning victim.

On March 30, Atlanta police added their first adult victim on the list of murdered children. He was Larry Rogers, 20, linked with younger victims by the fact he had been asphyxiated. No cause of death was determined for a second adult victim, 21-year-old Eddie Duncan, but he made it on the list anyway, when his body was found on March 31. On April 1, ex-convict Michael Mcintosh, age 24, was added to the roster on grounds that he, too, had been asphyxiated.

By April 1981, it seemed apparent that the “child murders” case was getting out of hand. Community critics denounced the official victims list as incomplete and arbitrary, citing cases like January 1891 murder of Faye Yearby to prove their point. Like “official” victim Angel Lenair, Yearby was bound to a tree by her killer, hands behind her back; she had been stabbed to death, like four acknowledged victims on the list. Despite those similarities, police rejected Yearby’s case on the grounds that (a) she was a female-as were Wilson and Lenair-and (b) that she was “too old” at age 22, although the last acknowledged victim had been 23. Author Dave Dettlinger, examining police malfeasance in the case, suggests that 63 potential “pattern” victims were capriciously omitted from the “official” roster, 25 of them after a suspect’s arrest supposedly ended the killing.

In April 1981, FBI spokesman declared that several of the crimes were “substantially solved,” outraging blacks with suggestions that some of the dead had been slain by their own parents. While that storm was raging, Roy Innis, leader of the Congress of Racial Equality, went public with the story of a female witness who described the murders as the actions of a cult involved with drugs, pornograpthy, and Satanism. Innis led searchers to an apparent ritual site, complete with large inverted crosses, his witness passed two polygraph examinations, but by that time police had focused their attention on another suspect, narrowing their scrutiny to the exclusion of all other possibilities.

On April 21, Jimmy Payne, a 21-year-old ex-convict, was reported missing in Atlanta. Six days later, when his body was discovered, death was publicly attributed to suffocation, and his name was added to the list of murdered “children.” William Barrett, 17, went missing May 11; he was found the next day, another victim of asphyxiation.

Several bodies had, by now been pulled from local rivers, and police were staking out the waterways by night. In the predawn hours of May 22, a rookie officer stationed under a bridge on the Chattahoochee River reported hearing “a splash” in the water nearby. Above him, a car rumbled past, and officers manning the bridge were alerted. Police and FBI agents halted a vehicle driven by Wayne Bertram Williams, a black man, and spent two hours grilling him and searching his car, before they let him go. On May 24, the corpse of Nathaniel Cater, a 27-year-old convicted felon, was fished out of the river downstream. Authorities put two and two together and focused their probe on Wayne Williams.

From the start, he made a most unlikely suspect. The only child of two Atlanta schoolteachers, Williams still lived with his parents at age 23. A college dropout, he cherished ambitions of earning fame and fortune as a music promoter. In younger days, he had constructed a working radio station in the basement of the family home.

On June 21, Williams was arrested and charged with the murder of Nathaniel Cater, despite testimony from four witnesses who reported seeing Carter alive on May 22 and 23, after the infamous “splash.” On July 17, Williams was indicted for killing two adults-Cater and Payne-while newspapers trumpeted the capture of Atlanta’s “child killer.”

At his trail, beginning in December 1981, the prosecution painted Williams as a violent homosexual and bigot, so disgusted with his own race that he hoped to wipe out future generations by killing black children before they could breed. One witness testified that he saw Williams holding hands with Nathaniel Cater on May 21, a few hours before the “splash”. Another, 15 years old, told the court that Williams had paid him two dollars for the privilege of fondling his genitals. Along the way, authorities announced the addition of a final victim, 28-year-old John Porter, to the list of victims.

Defense attorneys tried to balance the scales with testimony from a woman who admitted to having “normal sex” with Williams, but the prosecution won a crucial point when the presiding judge admitted testimony on 10 other deaths from the “child murders” list, designed to prove a pattern in the slayings. One of those admitted was the case of Terry Pue, but neither ide had anything to say about the fingerprints allegedly recovered from his corpse in January 1981.

The most impressive evidence of guilt was offered by a team of scientific experts, dealing with assorted hairs and fibers found on certain victims. testimony indicated that some fibers from a brand of carpet found inside the Williams home (and many other homes, as well) had been identified on several bodies. Further, victims Middlebrooks, Wyche, Cater, Terrell, Jones and Stephens all supposedly bore fibers from the trunk liner of a 1979 Ford automobile owned by the Williams family. The clothes of victim Stephans also allegedly yielded fibers from a second car-a 1970 Chevrolet-owned by Wayne’s parents. Curiously, jurors were not informed of multiple eyewitness testimony naming a different suspect in the Jones case, nor were they advised of a critical gap in the prosecution’s fiber evidence.

Specifically, Wayne Williams had no access to the vehicles in question at the times when three of the six “fiber” victims were killed. Wayne’s father took the Ford in for repairs at 9:00 A.M on July 30, 1980, nearly five hours before Earl Terrell vanished that afternoon. Terrell was long dead before Williams got the car back on August 7, and it was returned to the shop the next morning (August 8), still refusing to start. A new estimate on repair costs were so expensive that Wayne’s father refused to pay, and the family never again had access to the car. Meanwhile, Clifford Jones was kidnapped on August 20 and Charles Stephens on October 9, 1980. The defendant’s family did not purchase the 1970 Chevrolet in question until October 21, 12 days after Stephen’s death.

On February 27, 1982, Wayne Williams was convicted on two counts of murder and sentenced to a double term of life imprisonment, Two days later, the Atlanta “child murders” task force officially disbanded, announcing that 23 of 30 “List” cases were considered solved with his conviction, even though no charges had been filed. The other seven cases, still open, reverted to the normal homicide detail and remain unsolved to this day.

In November 1985, a new team of lawyers uncovered once-classified documents from an investigation of the Ku Klux Klan, conducted during 1980 and ‘81 by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. A spy inside the Klan told BGI agents that Klansmen were “killing the children” in Atlanta, hoping to provoke a race war. One Klansman in particular, Charles Sanders, allegedly boasted of murdering “List” victim Lubie Geter, following a personal altercation. Geter reportedly struck Sander’s car with a go-cart, prompting Klansman to tell his friend, “I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna choke the black bastard to death.” (Geter was, in fact, strangled, some three months after the incident.) In early 1981, the same informant told GBI agents that “after twenty black-child killings, they, the Klan, were going to start killing black women.” Perhaps coincidentally, police records note the unsolved murders of numerous black women in Atlanta in 1998-82, with most of the victims strangled. On July 10, 1998, Butts County Superior Court Judge Hal Craig rejected the latest appeal for a new trial in William’s case, based on suppression of critical evidence 15 years earlier. Judge Craig denied yet another new-trial motion on June 15, 2000.

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ajw720 · 8 years ago

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Afflctive

Afflictive(synonym of desperate); causing pain, distress or grief, distressing, still not sure I’m there, I will try. Desperate and pathetic would be the definition next to beard von glitz in the dictionary. I’ll add attention seeking. I have felt more definition is needed because the definition is not just about her. It’s a but her actions. Afflictive fits, she truly likes to cause pain to the max. She knows how D and how B feels! I’m not going to break it down, it’s been talked about, discussed, philosophyized ad nosium. She continues on HER path. She literally causes the max pain to D because in essence he hates her, she created this, yet does not understand reaction vs action. She literally causes “heart” pain to B because in essence he loves her, don’t know, don’t want to know why. Yet does not understand the love he offers. She does not care to evaluate her circumstance, she will lose her focus on her path to… destruction. She puts up picture facades of a relationship she will never have. And ignores that B is waving his flag in front of her. She decides when B is worth her attention, in that moment in time. It’s not just about desperation and attention. It is about the pain she can cause. She wants to “make” everyone see her, feel her. Because she cannot see or feel herself. I am not going to philosophiz or try to understand why, that is her responsibility. She needs to put on her big girl panties and deal. Life is not one big party, as she believes. It is full of decissions, errands, bills, other’s needs, taking care of those we love, not just having them take care of you. This has gone on to long, giving her the attention she so needs, craves. Grow up beard von glitz. We all have to do it some time.

*******************************************************

I think Chris describes her best in TLOS2: The Enchantress Returns. The chapter is entitled “Jar of Souls” and it is Ezmia recounting her story of why she collects souls as it is “a bit of a hobby...”

You know the phrase forgive and forget? Well I've always disagreed with it-I found it impossible actually. People would do me wrong and then forget about me, as if their actions didn't matter-because I didn't matter. How was I supposed to forgive people like that?

I found taking away their life force to be much more appealing than simply forgiving. To forgive would be to allow them to continue living their lives, free of consequences. But by taking their sous and preventing them all future happiness, I could heal and find peace.

I don't want the world to understand; I want it to grovel.

Now this section of the story is very close to my heart, you see, because inside these jars on my mantel are the souls of five men who unwisely broke it. One man who never loved me, one man who couldn't live me, one man who loved me too much, one man who loved me in secret, and one who didn't love me enough...

It should be noted that each of these men, in some way, are Darren, the baker who played games with her heart; the locksmith who could not look her in the eye or touch her with affection; the musician who wasn’t in love with her but with what she could provide who eventually cheated; the soldier who was ashamed of their relationship; and the king who only ever wanted friendship and never her loved her in the manner she loved him, even when she tried to give him a love potion.

That's when I leaned that taking the high road would never give me the same satisfaction as getting even.

I decided from then on if the world was going to speak my name it would be whispered in fear rather than mocked with envy. If the world was going to take all the joy from me, I would simply take away all the joy from the world.

#chris speaks through TLOS #There truly is nothing else to add #This book written the year she moved to LA and things got difficult leading into the I am straight and love my girlfriend tour #submission

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peppermint-shamrock · 8 years ago

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@this-wreckage replied to your post “I feel like I need to reiterate this, because I’ve been seeing a few…”

Whoa… would it be too much trouble to type up an explanation for those of us who haven’t been following it? I don’t mind spoilers, I might not ever get around to watching it but I’m still curious what happens. If you don’t want to that’s totally cool of course!

Sure, I can explain things. Hopefully it makes sense, since you haven’t watched it for a while…

So, things are finally explained regarding the counterparts - the world used to be a single world, that Leo Akaba lived in, where he helped develop the Real Solid Vision system. This led to a duelist named Zarc accidentally injuring an opponent in a duel, and the crowd loved it. Zarc could interact with duel spirits, and was incredibly eager to please everyone, so when the crowd started demanding more and more violent duels, it started to drive him nuts. Eventually he fused himself with his four dragons and started rampaging. Leo, blaming himself, made four cards based off of nature in order to stop Zarc, but Leo’s daugher, Ray, stole the cards and defeated Zarc herself. This split the world, Zarc, and Ray, into four parts. Zarc became Yuuya, Yuuto, Yuugo, and Yuuri; Ray became Yuzu, Ruri, Rin, and Selena.

Leo ended up in Standard, with no memory of the previous world. He developed the Real Solid Vision system again, and eventually started to remember the events in the previous world, and began searching for his daughter. He found Selena in the Fusion dimension, but couldn’t find Ray’s memories in her, so he realized Ray had been split. In order to resurrect her, he gets the other girls, and has the Xyz dimension carded in order to provide the energy needed to do it.

Meanwhile, Zarc’s trying to get back, too. Yuuya already absorbed Yuuto way back in season 1, and has been struggling with Zarc’s influence ever since. Yuuri defeats and absorbs Yuugo, then challenges Yuuya, who then absorbs him and becomes Zarc. We then get a bunch of characters trying to stand up to Zarc and getting defeated while Leo tries to resurrect Ray. It doesn’t work, and the bracelet girls are gone, so Ray’s spirit possesses Reira, who then goes and defeats Zarc.

We then have a mini-arc to wrap everything up. Reira is now a baby with Zarc’s evil spirit inside. Yuzu and co are gone, and Yuuya’s counterparts are all stuck within him. They’re all getting along, though, weirdly enough, and no one seems to mind the situation. Yuuya has to duel a few people with the goal of making Reira smile. In the last episode he succeeds in this with his duel with Reiji. This magically brings back Yuzu in the last five minutes of the episode (maybe not even five).Just Yuzu. The other girls’ faces are superimposed over hers briefly as they all smile at the Yuuya counterparts whose faces are briefly superimposed over Yuuya’s in turn. Even Selena smiles at Yuuri even though they’ve never had friendly interactions. Everyone is laughing and smiling and happy. Yusho challenges Yuuya to a duel. The end.

This ending is very unsatisfying. It’s not all that happy for six people to have lost their independence, their lives, their hopes and dreams. Selena especially, with how aggressively independent she is, shouldn’t be happy with this. Also, Shun doesn’t really get his sister back. Leo doesn’t really get his daughter back (and actually Ray doesn’t show up at all since Zarc’s defeat). Not to mention that these characters have been shafted - Yuzu has not dueled since the middle of season two. Selena has only dueled once, under the influence of a brainwashing parasite (because it’s YGO and we’ve gotta have a fight against a brainwashed friend), since a little bit later in season two. Ruri and Rin barely got anything to them.

What makes this worse is that we get an acknowledgement from Leo that the girls were their own people, with their own lives, that he ignored in the pursuit of Ray. Only a couple of episodes ago. So for the show to treat this as the happy ending just because they used to be one person - it’s very disappointing. This also comes on top of a general decline in quality in this last season - lots of characters being sidelined, subplots introduced, then resolved too quickly, or worse, not resolved at all. The pacing was rushed, or in rare instances, dragged out for no reason. And in this final episode, the resolution also feels too rushed. The best way I can describe it is that it feels as though Arc V was originally going to be a longer series, with another season, but then it was decided that there was only going to be three seasons and they needed to make it work. Some people blame it on DSOD, but I don’t know about that.

I hope I explained that well enough. Despite that, I think it is worth watching - the first season was the best, but the second season was pretty good too (the villain is great, best villain in Arc V - you might be interested in the fact that he’s voiced by Darren Dunstan in the dub). The third has its moments, and the payoff to Yuuya’s berserk mode and Leo’s plans. There were some really good ideas here and I wished they’d been dealt with better, but I will take what we can get.

#this-wreckage #arc v spoilers #arc v finale thoughts #if anything's not clear then feel free to ask #although i am going to go to bed very soon

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thisdaynews · 5 years ago

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Lewandowski readies Trump defense at 'impeachment hearing'

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/lewandowski-readies-trump-defense-at-impeachment-hearing/

Lewandowski readies Trump defense at 'impeachment hearing'

poster=”http://v.politico.com/images/1155968404/201909/3808/1155968404_6087153035001_6087154269001-vs.jpg?pubId=1155968404″

true

President Donald Trump’s former campaign manager Corey Lewandowski sent Democrats into a rage Tuesday as he swatted down dozens of questions about potential obstruction of justice by the president while using the tense hearing as a launchpad for a possible U.S. Senate campaign.

Appearing before the House Judiciary Committee, Lewandowski tailored his remarks to the liking of his former boss, while Democrats tried with limited success to get the Trump loyalist to detail efforts by the president to effectively end former special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation. But the hearing armed Democrats with what they see as key ammunition in their drive toward impeachment of the president.

Story Continued Below

House Judiciary Committee Jerry Nadler (D-N.Y.) suggested that Lewandowski’s refusal to answer questions about his conversations with Trump — at the behest of the White House — bolsters Democrats’ case to impeach the president, even as Speaker Nancy Pelosi remains opposed to the idea.

“When you refuse to answer these questions, you are obstructing the work of our committee. You are also proving our point for the American people to see: The president is intent on obstructing our legitimate oversight. You are aiding him in that obstruction,” Nadler told Lewandowski.

“And I will remind you that Article 3 of the impeachment against President [Richard] Nixon was based on obstruction of Congress,” Nadler added.

Two White House lawyers were seated behind an indignant Lewandowski as he repeatedly deferred to their demands to sharply restrict his testimony to what was already made public in Mueller’s 448-page report. Each time, Democrats grew more outraged as Lewandowski refused to discuss his conversations with the president, reciting a prepared statement from the White House.

“Mr. Lewandowski, you are like a fish being cleaned with a spoon — it’s very hard to get an answer out of you,” Rep. Hank Johnson (D-Ga.) quipped.

“This is House Judiciary, not a house party,” Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Texas) added.

One Democrat, Rep. David Cicilline of Rhode Island, became so frustrated that he asked Nadler to move to hold Lewandowski in contempt of Congress.

Lewandowski more freely answered Republicans’ questions, at times launching an all-out defense of Trump and adopting Trump’s own harsh criticisms of the myriad congressional and criminal investigations that have ensnared him and his associates.

“It is now clear the investigation was populated by many Trump haters who had their own agenda — to try and take down a duly elected president of the United States,” Lewandowski told the committee, in what top Democrats said was their first official “impeachment hearing.”

“As for actual ‘collusion,’ or conspiracy,’ there was none. What there has been however, is harassment of the president from the day he won the election,” Lewandowski continued.

Though Democrats struggled to glean new information from Lewandowski, his appearance was a small victory for the committee, which had yet to obtain public testimony from any eyewitness to the potential obstruction of justice episodes detailed in Mueller’s report.

Democrats were also hopeful that Lewandowski’s refusal to answer many questions would be seen as evidence of what Nadler has long emphasized: that obstruction of Congress, too, can be an impeachable offense.

“Your behavior in this hearing room has been unacceptable,” Nadler told him.

The hearing’s tensest moment came at the outset, when Lewandowski repeatedly refused to answer basic questions from Nadler (D-N.Y.) about his conversations with the president — regardless of whether they were cited in the Mueller report — and the hearing degenerated into a shouting match between Republicans and Democrats on the panel.

At one point, Lewandowski refused to answer a question about an Oval Office meeting he had with Trump, which was cited in the Mueller report. Lewandowski requested to view a copy of the report to confirm the meeting in question, prompting Democratic members of the committee to shake their heads and groan in disapproval.

Lewandowski sat for an April 6, 2018, interview with Mueller, according to the special counsel’s report, providing an eyewitness account of an effort by Trump to constrain Mueller’s investigation of Russian interference in the 2016 election. Mueller obtained notes, emails and even LinkedIn exchanges.

In 2017, Trump deputized Lewandowski to approach then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions and order him either to restrict Mueller’s probe to future interference by Russia or be removed from his Cabinet post. Lewandowski, though, told Mueller he didn’t want to deliver that message to Sessions, so he asked former top White House aide Rick Dearborn to pass it along instead. Dearborn never followed through, Mueller found.

In his review of the episode, Mueller found that Trump’s actions met all the criteria that would typically result in an obstruction of justice charge. But Mueller also indicated that this team had determined at the outset not to judge whether Trump had committed a crime, owing in large part to a longstanding Justice Department opinion that says a sitting president is immune from indictment.

Lewandowski largely confirmed the version of events contained in Mueller’s report, at times complying with Democrats’ line of questioning by agreeing with the way Mueller’s report characterized his actions and responses to Trump’s directives.

Earlier Tuesday, Lewandowski teased his aggressive posture toward the committee’s Democrats, including a hashtag “Senate2020” on Twitter, a reference to his prospective challenge to Sen. Jeanne Shaheen (D-N.H.) in his home state. Some Democrats criticized him for using the hearing as publicity for his potential Senate bid — a chance to more closely align with Trump, rather than dish on potential crimes.

During a break in the hearing, Lewandowski tweeted a link to a website for Stand with Corey, a new super PAC that filed with the Federal Election Commission earlier Tuesday. Lewandowski said it was a “website just launched to help a potential Senate run.” The organization will be run by three veteran Republican operatives: Michael Biundo, John Brabender and Marty Obst, POLITICO confirmed.

“There’s clearly a grassroots movement dedicated to recruiting Corey Lewandowski for the Senate, and we believe that it’s time to draft Corey into this race and show that the voters of New Hampshire are behind him,” Biundo told WMUR, which first reported details of the super PACs organizers.

Trump himself tweeted support for Lewandowski just moments after he completed his opening remarks.

“Such a beautiful Opening Statement by Corey Lewandowski! Thank you Corey!” Trump tweeted.

Lewandowski has a history of combativeness with House Democrats in congressional testimony. He refused to answer a slew of questions when he faced the House Intelligence Committee last year behind closed doors.

Two other Mueller witnesses on the committee’s schedule — Dearborn and former White House staff secretary Rob Porter — both declined to appear under orders from the White House that were issued late Monday. The White House cited “absolute immunity” in ordering them not to testify. Lewandowski was also ordered not to discuss his conversations with the president, other than those detailed in the Mueller report.

Nadler assailed the White House effort to block or restrict the three men’s testimony as another example of “obstruction” by the president and his administration.

For the White House, Tuesday’s hearingis the latest effort to block former advisers from cooperating with Congress. The White House has offered various reasons that former aides cannot testify — including that top presidential advisers have “absolute immunity” from appearing before Congress and, in turn, cannot answer questions about the obstruction of justice allegations contained in the 448-page Mueller report. It applied this rationale to Dearborn and Porter.

Lewandowski never held a formal role in the Trump administration but has served as an outside adviser to the president — and the White House cited that relationship in ordering him not to disclose the contents of his private conversations with the president, other than what has already been publicly disclosed in Mueller’s report. The White House has cited a longstanding Justice Department opinion that says even informal advisers can be shielded from testimony since the president should be able to rely on their confidential advice.

Nadler said on Monday that he considered Lewandowski’s testimony to be an “impeachment hearing,” a remark that comes as Democratic leaders continue to openly disagree on what to call the committee’s impeachment probe.

James Arkin andDarren Samuelsohn contributed reporting.

#Foreign #hearing #impeachment #Politics

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gyrlversion · 6 years ago

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Peaky Blinders extra, 33, avoids jail for domestic violence charges

Oliver Cox, 33, met women on dating websites and wooed them with grand romantic gestures before turning violent. He is pictured with Lyndsey Yarwood, one of the women he attacked

A violent and steroid-pumped Peaky Blinders extra who created make-believe worlds to ensnare his victims has dodged jail again – after failing to appear under a background check when he ‘changed his name online for a few pounds’.

Oliver Cox, 33, met women on dating websites and wooed them with grand romantic gestures – including turning up at the airport when they landed from holiday and proposing after just a month.

However his charming persona would quickly change and he ditched the rose petal baths in favour of terrifying attacks that left some victims needing restraining orders to keep him away.

Cox concocted an elaborate web of deceit around his victims – claiming to be an actor, a boxer and a CBD (Cannabidiol) company owner, according to his victims. He even posed as one of the women’s jealous exes online.

The thug filmed with the Peaky Blinders cast in May 2017 and was on series four. He also appeared as an extra in Coronation Street and once sparred with Ricky Hatton when he was a boxer.

One of his victims was taken to France on the promise they were invited on a game show only for it to be cancelled when the host, who was apparently Cox making a fake profile, mysteriously ‘died’.

Despite pleading guilty last month to assault occasioning actual bodily harm after attacking single mother Lyndsey Yarwood, 35, he was only given an 18-week suspended sentence.

Shockingly, Ms Yarwood had looked up his past using Clare’s Law – which gives people a right to ask police if their partners have domestic violence convictions – but was told there was nothing of concern. Wiltshire Police are now investigating.

Ms Yarwood believes Cox slipped through the net because he changed his name by deed poll – calling himself Bart Milben, Darren Berry and other variations of these.

Days before attacking Ms Yarwood, the brute had even shared a post on Facebook praising Clare’s Law as something that not only helps women but can ‘defend men who have been labelled’.

Less than a year before, Cox had been convicted of assaulting former girlfriend Rosie Benson, 31, on Christmas Day 2017 – for which he was bailed and handed a community order.

Rosie Benson, 31, and Jen Atherton, 28, were two of the woman targeted by the thug

Weeks before attacking Ms Yarwood, the thug had been instructed by cops to cease contact with another ex, Jen Atherton, after harassing her when she refused to post pictures on Instagram of flowers he’d bought her.

Just months before meeting the 28-year-old last year, he had also pleaded guilty to attacking another woman in Newcastle while on a night-out – but walked free after paying a £600 fine.

He allegedly made up a woman named ‘Rachel’ who he would ‘confide’ in about his violence – even making her an Instagram account to talk to her on.

His campaign of violence stretches back a decade, after he was convicted of headbutting a man in 2009 who reportedly tried to stop him attacking another ex.

With Cox still on the streets, Ms Yarwood, Ms Benson and Ms Atherton are speaking out to warn other women so that he doesn’t do it again to ‘some other poor girl’.

Cox admitted to changing his name by deed poll to Bartholomew Milben and blamed his behaviour on his use of steroids but claimed he was ‘not a monster’.

Ms Yarwood dated Cox between August and December 2018 and thought he was her dream man after bombarding her with romantic gestures.

But within just four months, their whirlwind relationship and engagement was over.

The mother-of-two, from Melksham, Wiltshire, said: ‘He was everything you see in rom-coms: rose-petal baths, cooking dinner, brilliant with the kids. And so believable – the lies and everything.

‘It’s mad. I’m pretty sure it’s going to take for him to actually kill someone for the courts to punish him properly.

‘No wonder women don’t go through with pressing charges for domestic violence.

‘He was given a two-year restraining order, but there’s nothing to stop him standing outside my house as long as he doesn’t contact me.’

The hairdresser met Cox on dating website Plenty of Fish at the beginning of 2018 and the pair chatted online for almost five months.

Cox also attacked Lyndsey Yarwood, 35, but was only given an 18-week suspended sentence

They made plans to meet up, but Ms Yarwood was too nervous to go through with it, until one day, when she had just arrived back from a holiday, he was waiting in the arrivals hall to surprise her.

She said: ‘When we were chatting initially, he seemed really nice. We arranged to meet a few times but I chickened out because I was nervous.

‘We eventually met on 17 August last year. We’d talked loads that week because I was on holiday in Gran Canaria.

‘He actually turned up at Bristol Airport to surprise me when I got home.

‘The next day at work he sent me a big bunch of flowers and he came to meet me at mine. He never left.’

Just over a month after meeting face-to-face, the loved-up pair went on a day trip to London.

In an unexpected turn, Cox proposed while they were on the Southbank Starflyer ride.

Ms Yarwood said: ‘We went on this swing ride and while up in the air he proposed to me.

‘I was really shocked, it was absolutely crazy, but I said yes because I really, really liked him. I was caught up in the moment. Everything was great then.’

But their newly engaged bliss quickly soured.

Ms Yarwood said: ‘One day my ex, or so Ollie said, started messaging him on social media, threatening him, threatening me.

‘I had panic attacks, but Ollie was sticking up for me by sending him messages back.

‘I later found out he was messaging himself via a fake account. He’d set up a fake account just to show me – it was like trauma bonding.

‘We then had an engagement party. I did have a brilliant time at the party. I had a girls’ night out, basically.

‘We went back home and I woke up in the middle of night with him right next to my face.

What is Clare’s Law? How you can find out your partner’s domestic violence history, thanks to father’s campaign

Clare Wood, 36, was strangled by an ex

Clare’s Law was created in 2014 following a campaign by Michael Brown, whose daughter was murdered by her ex-boyfriend.

The initiative, officially called the Domestic Violence Disclosure Scheme, was designed to provide people with information that may protect them from a potentially abusive situation.

The scheme allows the police to disclose information about a partner’s previous history of domestic violence or violent acts.

Clare Wood, 36, was strangled and set on fire by her ex-boyfriend George Appleton at her home in Salford, Greater Manchester, in February 2009.

The mother-of-one had met Appleton on Facebook, unaware of his horrific history of violence against women, including repeated harassment, threats and the kidnapping at knifepoint of one of his ex-girlfriends.

‘His face had changed. He looked so angry and frightening. He grabbed my wrist and started accusing me of cheating on him.

‘He was going through my phone calling me a slag and his voice had changed.

‘He made me go downstairs where he went absolutely mental and smashed up his phone. I went to bed sobbing.’

The next morning Cox suggested he could not remember anything about the night before, Ms Yarwood said.

She continued: ‘He said “oh my God, I’m so sorry”. I believed that he just didn’t remember. That was the first instance that frightened me.’

During a night out for his birthday in December 2018, the couple began rowing and Cox became furious, claiming Ms Yarwood had ‘ruined his birthday’.

Back at the hotel, Cox grabbed Ms Yarwood and attacked her, leaving her with two black eyes and bruises to her body.

She claims he bought her a cold pack of bacon to put on her face to try to help the bruising.

The next day, Ms Yarwood decided enough was enough and fled Cox, returning to her mum’s.

She is furious that after a warning from his ex that he had a history, her request for information on his background from police using Clare’s Law failed her.

‘I’ve no idea why he didn’t come up on Clare’s Law,’ she said. ‘He managed to get through somehow. The amount of phone calls I had to make was unbelievable.

‘I think with Clare’s Law, every single recorded name needs to be linked to the same person.

‘It costs £36 [or less] to change your name by deed poll. There needs to be a register for offenders that people can just go on.’

Now, she is urging women to think with their heads, not their hearts, when it comes to domestic violence.

She said: ‘The hardest thing for women in this situation is you think with your heart.

‘I just pray the next victim doesn’t fall for his conman ways his sob stories. I hope enough people see his face and see what he’s capable of.’

While Ms Yarwood is Cox’s latest victim, the lout has a history of attacking women.

The year before attacking her, Cox was found guilty of assault by beating and given 100 hours of community service and a restraining order preventing him from contacting ex-girlfriend Rosie Benson.

Ms Benson met Cox on Facebook in 2016 but after dating him for 18 months they broke up – however she says he continued to turn up at her house.

She claims she would find him sleeping in her outside toilet building or in his car and he even faked seizures and pretended to have been attacked for sympathy.

When she allowed him into her house to have dinner and stay the night on Christmas Day 2016, Cox unleashed a vicious assault when she rejected his advances.

Ms Benson, from Bolton, Lancashire, said: ‘It’s been hell.

‘The restraining order runs out in September this year. I’m expecting to hear from him again.

‘I’m worried he’ll just move again to a different area and do it again to another poor girl.’

Jen Atherton considers herself one of the ‘lucky ones’ as she was not attacked by Cox – though Merseyside Police still told him to stop any further contact with her.

The pair had only started speaking on Facebook a week before, but when Ms Atherton touched down at Manchester Airport in July last year he was waiting, like he did with Lyndsey, to surprise her.

However the romantic side soon faded and Ms Atherton claims Cox turned angry when she failed to post pictures of flowers he had bought her on Instagram.

Even after they broke up, Cox would not leave her alone and she was forced to contact the police to mediate the return of shoes he had left behind, who asked him to leave her alone.

Ms Atherton, from Wirral, Merseyside, said: ‘I got away at the right time. I saw that he’d got with Lyndsey very shortly after and I thought I should tell her, but I worried he’d pursue me.’

Cox said he was ‘mortified’ by what had happened but denied treating women badly – despite acknowledging the convictions.

He denied creating fake LinkedIn profiles to pose as the game show producers but admitted to having ‘a number of’ Facebook profiles under various names.

Cox said: ‘[I changed my name to Bartholomew] by deed poll.

‘It was for a fresh start and a sign of a new me, but I did it at a time when I was very confused about myself and I didn’t have all my diagnoses.

‘What happened that night [with Lyndsey] is disgusting and shouldn’t have happened. It ruined what could have been a brilliant relationship.

‘I ain’t a monster. I’ve had some serious problems unfortunately, when I’ve had a drug addiction and took steroids.’

A spokesperson for Wiltshire Police said: ‘This case has been referred to our Professional Standards Department and a review is currently ongoing to determine what happened in this case and why a disclosure was not made. Due to this investigation, it would be inappropriate to comment further.’

The post Peaky Blinders extra, 33, avoids jail for domestic violence charges appeared first on Gyrlversion.

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#Entertainment News

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themagic-neverdies-rp · 6 years ago

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#oc #ogc #om

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usviraltrends-blog · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://usviraltrends.com/scientists-beware-the-price-is-high-the-payoff-uncertain-at-glossy-publications-aimed-at-europes-decision-makers-science/

Scientists beware: The price is high, the payoff uncertain at glossy publications aimed at Europe’s decision-makers | Science

Covers of publications produced by Pan European Networks, which some EU officials worry look too much like official publications.

Pan European Networks

By Jop de VriezeMar. 14, 2018 , 4:05 PM

Last July, Marcel van der Heyden, a molecular biologist at University Medical Center Utrecht in the Netherlands, got a cold call with an intriguing offer. Would Van der Heyden be interested in writing up some of his laboratory’s work, the caller asked, to be included in a glossy publication aimed at some of Europe’s most senior science decision-makers?

Intrigued, Van der Heyden began asking questions. But when he learned he would have to pay about ₤9000 ($12,400) to publish the two-page profile, “I immediately hit the brake,” he says. He said he would have to think it over, but the caller persisted. “I was told I had to decide rapidly, because their board meeting was about to start. He offered me a large discount if I would decide immediately.”

Van der Heyden isn’t the only European researcher to get such a hard sell from Pan European Networks (PEN), a 6-year-old publishing company with offices in Congleton, U.K., and Brussels that promises to provide opportunities for “leading figures from across Europe” to get attention for their work or ideas. Many other scientists had similar experiences, Van der Heyden discovered when he started poking around on blogs and Twitter, including the promise of attention from decision-makers and the warning about the imminent board meeting. Some also said that PEN suggested it is directly affiliated with EU agencies. (PEN declined to answer questions from Science.)

The strategy appears to work well. PEN operates a handful of websites about projects funded by Horizon 2020, Europe’s largest research program; science and technology; and health that feature news and stories about labs, research groups, conferences, and emerging technologies, as well as interviews with researchers. The websites also host digital magazines that can include up to 100 profiles per issue, many of them paid for by labs and researchers, and written by the researchers themselves or their press officers. One such magazine, SciTech Europa Quarterly, has published 26 issues since 2011; Health Europa Quarterly, which started in 2017, has published four.

Some of PEN’s websites state that “PEN is an independent publication” and “is not, and does not purport to be, an official partner of the European Commission;” the digital magazines’ table of contents also mention that all articles marked “profile” are advertising features. But EU officials aren’t happy about the booming business, in part because some of PEN’s current and past websites resemble the official web pages of European institutions and even feature star-spangled logos.

The European Commission’s Directorate-General for Research and Innovation regards PEN as a “very aggressive marketing company, which gives the impression it is affiliated with the commission,” a spokesperson says. In fact, she adds, it has little influence. “There might be people in the [commission] who actually read it, but it is not regarded as a credible organization,” she says. The commission can’t officially tell researchers to steer clear of PEN, she says, but does so informally.

A letter that the European Research Council (ERC) sent to its grantees last July didn’t mention PEN by name, but warned about “certain publishing houses and online publications” whose tactics, “including vague references—usually by telephone—to any sort of official recognition by the ERC, the EC or the EU, are to be considered an attempt to fraud.” And in a 2016 letter to PEN, Jörg Polakiewicz, director of legal advice and public international law at the Council of Europe in Strasbourg, France, asked the publisher to remove the council’s logo from its website and to note use the words “in association with.” (The Council of Europe, which has 47 member countries, is separate from the European Union.)

PEN is owned by Darren Wilson, former director of a now-defunct company called Public Service Ltd. that published public sector information in the United Kingdom and was also known for its aggressive marketing tactics. Wilson did not respond to requests for an interview.

PEN isn’t the only outlet that offers scientists and labs exposure for a price. Journals including Science and Nature run advertorials that feature academic and company labs and even individual researchers. Euroscientist, the official publication of a researchers’ association named Euroscience, also based in Strasbourg, occasionally publishes sponsored special issues as well. A U.K. digital magazine named Impact, founded in 2016, runs paid profiles, this far mainly focusing on large European research projects. But PEN appears to be unique in its aggressive marketing tactics, high prices, and unsupported claims about reaching into the highest echelons of European policy.

PEN does have dozens of positive testimonials, though many come from people who didn’t publish a paid profile but were interviewed for one of the publications, which is free of charge. “They were always helpful, replied promptly, and above all, interested in getting the details right, rather than sacrificing them for the sake of journalistic sensationalism,” wrote physicist Manus Hayne of Lancaster University in the United Kingdom, who was interviewed in SciTech Europa Quarterly, then still named Science and Technology. (Hayne says he would not pay to appear in the publication.) Maria Die Trill, president of the International Psycho-Oncology Society at the Hospital Gregorio Marañón in Madrid, wrote in a testimonial that she expected her PEN interview to help “spread the word” about the society. Caroline Lynn Kamerlin of Uppsala University in Sweden did pay for a profile, but now regrets writing a nice review afterward because of the “incessant harassment” of PEN’s sales force since then.

“For me it was a good opportunity to show what we were doing,” says Berber Vlieg-Boerstra, a research dietician at the Onze Lieve Vrouwe Gasthuis Hospital in Amsterdam. She managed to negotiate the price of a profile about new dietary approaches to food allergies, published in PEN’s health magazine in August 2017, down to ₤1500. Realizing now that she is unlikely to see any returns, “I won’t do it again.” she says. “Still, I don’t really regret it. At least I have in writing what we’re currently doing, so that I can show it to others.”

But Jon Snaedal, a geriatrics professor at Reykjavik University, feels he did not get his money’s worth. “Being in the middle of the ocean, I saw it as an opportunity to get some connections at the continent.” He paid ₤12,000 from his research budget for an ad and three profiles, one published in the health magazine in 2017, the other two due out this year. After the first publication, PEN sold him a ₤2000 “partnership,” as part of which the company promised to show him how many readers looked at the publications. (PEN’s managing editor, Michael Thame, didn’t answer questions but wrote to Science that the company is “able to provide bespoke reports tailored for individual advertisers detailing the full extent of their exposure upon request.”) Snaedal says he never received such data, and he would not work with PEN again.

PEN can be aggressive against its critics, says Czech chemist Michael Bojdys of Charles University in Prague, who was approached by the company last year. In an 8 September 2017 blog post, he wrote that PEN “tries to take on the appearance of an EU agency or affiliated body” and described the business as “parasitic.” Bojdys soon received a phone call from PEN Executive Director Daniel Bott, who threatened to take legal action if the “slanderous” blog post wasn’t removed. Bojdys says he insisted there were no factual errors in his post and has not taken it down; he says Bott has dropped the matter.

As to Van der Heyden, he ended up refusing PEN’s proposition and feels lucky that he did. “They do seem to operate within the legal borders,” he says. “But I can imagine better ways to spend my valuable research money.”

#Science

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vigilante-rpg · 7 years ago

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Welcome Karoline! We’re pleased to announce your audition for Aiden Soto / The Accident has been accepted! Please send your account into the main within the next 24 hours. We can’t wait to have you join us!

NAME: Karoline

AGE: 19

TIMEZONE: PST

PRONOUNS: She/her

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I have a tendency to be active 10 out of the 16 hours that I’m actually awake. Finals Week may drop to more like two hours a day?

PREVIOUS ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE: I’ve been doing Tumblr rps for a little more than a month, but I’ve been doing rp on other platforms for a few years

PERSONAL TUMBLR CONTACT: Removed for Privacy

TRIGGERS: none

CHARACTER NAME: Aiden Soto (originally Andrew Santos)

PRONOUNS: HE/HIM

AGE: 25

ORIGIN: The Accident

FACE CLAIM: Darren Criss

QUOTE: “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

OCCUPATION: Online Anonymous Journalist

PERSONALITY:

Habitual Liar: He knows how to be charming, how to redirect attention away from the things he’d like to hide. It was a skill that he developed from his days as a petty theif, learning how to hide his crimes from his concerned parents in order to keep their minds at peace. He began to create elaborate stories, and he just kept making them, even past the point that he needed to. It was a good escape, a way to say that his life was better than he knew it was.

Charming: To make connections, Aiden began to learn how to be charming to the people he would steal for. He learned how to fit in with the dealers, how to smile his way into a trade, how to placate officers who may have believed his employers to be otherwise immoral. It was survival.

Hopeful: Aiden wants to be a writer, a real one, and not just an anonymous blogger. He knows the chances are low, but there are dreams that he has now that he’d never allowed himself to have before.

Pickpocket: He still sees possessions as a loose term. If he needs something, the first thing that his mind will go to is to take it without care for who it really belongs to. He’s getting better at remembering that the world doesn’t belong to him, but he still finds himself with a couple of valuables that he ends up needing to pawn off whenever he’s struggling for money.

Self-deprecating: He knows he’s done shitty things, but he read somewhere (it’s a lie, he read it wrong) that being self-deprecating about it was a good way to get over guilt. If you can’t laugh at it, then what are you supposed to do? It’s a little unnerving to some people, when they realize that he’s laughing about a life of crime, but that’s his coping mechanism.

Stubborn: Overall, Aiden wants to do better, to be better, but he doesn’t want to let anyone to help him, and more often than not, he smiles and pretends he’s fine. It’s a defense for him, a way to keep people out from having to judge him, because he knows that most people might be sick at the thought of what he used to do, and occasionally, what he still does.

BIOGRAPHY: He was too small to be a hero, is what his mother told him. He dreamed of fighting crime and beating up the bad guys and winning, but he was small and his older sister always sighed and called him “Loko-loko” whenever he tried to tell her that he was going to grow up and save them from the thieves and sirens that passed by their house at night. But his parents needed money to send his sister to a good high school. She was a smart girl, and the local high school was dirty and drug filled and it wouldn’t be safe for her to be there. So they discussed and talked, and it was heated to the point that Aiden would plead to whoever was out there to somehow save his sister from having to go to a place where she would come out of it broken and beaten and stuck. But no one answered and Aiden quit going to the gym and started learning how to pick pockets. He was good at that too, his small hands reaching in and out before anyone could see, and his targets started getting harder too. A bit of cash from a traveling business man, a pretty watch from the tourist, a diamond ring from a besotten man to be engaged. He sold them at a pawn store, taking the cash home to his parents and refusing to tell them how he’d gotten them. They believed him, and Aiden felt better. He was being a hero for his parents, for his sister. If stealing things was what it took to save his family, then he was glad to do so.

He continued through and past high school, stealing and trading enough to help pay for his sister’s college. He wasn’t worried about going himself, he was far from the genius that she was, but even so, family stuck together, and he wanted to make sure that she could continue the amazing education that she deserved. But he’d caught the attention of some pretty bad people, and he started doing more and more dangerous jobs for them. He still had skill in boxing, so taking care of other thieves who wanted to bother him weren’t an issue. It was the people who he was stealing for that became the problem. There were whispers on the street about an experimental drug, and people were wondering what it would cost, how much money it would make them. A dealer, who had heard of Aiden’s propensity and talent for taking things that weren’t his, offered enough money to pay for half his sister’s first year in college, and Aiden was sold. He treated it as if it were any other job, and the dealer provided him with enough information for Aiden to sneak a hand into the suitcase, and walk away without any fuss.

But of course it went wrong. His luck ran out, and Aiden’s world tilted. He hadn’t accounted for the guards, hiding in civilian clothes, surrounding his mark. His survival instincts kicked in, and he did what he could to get away, grabbing the suitcase and running as fast as he could, the only clear thing in his head being to get the fuck away. The fancy pants suits couldn’t do a thing when he whacked the nearest thug with the suitcase and jumped the fence, running and weaving through the alleyways until he reached an abandoned warehouse.

He was curious though, about the drug, and he wanted to know what sort of substance could cause someone to need bodyguards. So, being the inquiring person he was, he decided it would be a great decision to open the case. Aiden clicked open the case and was assaulted by the smoke and vapor that had been contained moments before, an airborne concoction meant to change the user’s DNA. He remembered it being painful, his eyes watering and the struggle to breathe, the feeling of his nerves on fire and his blood boiling and the temporary thought of why would anyone want this? floating through his head.

He woke up in the hospital, with his parents and sister beside him, and they made him promise not to steal anything else. He’d agreed, not wanting to see them hurt anymore. But the world of crime wasn’t done with him just yet. Aiden had been asleep when he heard screaming from the living room, and had rushed out to see the dealer and his own thugs holding guns to his parents head. The dealer that had originally wanted the experimental drug had been furious when he’d heard that Aiden wouldn’t deliver, and instead set out to threaten him. He’d begged, swearing that he could do better and apologizing and promising to make it up to him somehow. He’d screamed and cried and pleaded, offering himself up as payment, and for a moment, he held on to hope that it had worked when one of the thugs put a bullet through his shoulder. But it was for nothing, and Aiden watched in horror as his parents fell, lifeless, to the ground.

The next thing he knew he was standing in a pool of too much blood, the dealer and the thugs dead around him, his memory hazy and his shoulder pounding with pain. He glanced down to see a makeshift sword of his own crystalized blood, and he could only stare as the sword dissolved and the rest of the liquid ran back into his body. So he ran, terrified of what the consequences were for him, living on the streets until he found a family that took pity on him, allowing him to stay with their son in his apartment until he could get back on his feet. While Aiden recovered, he and the son became good friends, and after Aiden found steady money in anonymous blogging, the son let Aiden stay.

He decided that if he was going to have this power, he was going to ensure that no one else ended up like him and his parents. He took the streets, hoping that maybe he could live as the hero he wanted to be when he was a child. But learning how to be a hero is hard, and Aiden doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. He’s only ever learned how to fight on the streets, and past that, well, his sense of what’s fair is more than a little skewed.

VIGILANTE NAME: Red River

PRONOUNS: He/Him

APPEARANCE: Black hood with red linings, along with a muffler to pull up over his nose and mouth. His hair is pretty distinctive, so he makes sure that it’s either gelled or pulled away from his face so the curls don’t get out. His torso is covered in a muted red leather jacket with a light bullet proof vest underneath. On his neck, where the hood is attached is where his sigil is. He also has black pants that are easy to move around with and dark red combat boots. On his belt is where he stores his handguns and extra cartridges. He has gloves that cover his fingertips but are open palm in the case that he needs to cut himself to access blood, and a hidden dagger under his left wrist as a means to do so as well as a weapon.

SIGIL: Ruby red “R” that looks like it was written in blood.

COLOUR SCHEME:

MUTED RED: #352929

BLACK: #050302

RED: #690300

FIGHTING STYLE: Guns, Hand to Hand combat (boxing)

CLASS TYPE: Defensive

POWER: Hemokinesis - He can control his own blood and solidify it to the point that it’s like a red shard of ice. Granted, he has to actually have blood outside of his body to do so, so he usually saves it for last ditch attempts where he absolutely has to use it. He can only use his own blood, and because of that, he has a limited supply before he starts feeling really hazy, and whenever he uses more than 30% of his blood, he blacks out and his body redirects all function to his ability. Meaning, if he uses too much, he has no conscious memory of what happened during his fight.

Please delegate 9 points between the following three stats for your character. If the origin you’re applying for has a bonus or debuff on any of the below, adjust the total as required.

OBSCURITY: 3/5 CONTROL: 2/5 LUCK: 3/5

Please delegate 28 points between the following eight stats for your character. If the origin you’re applying for has a bonus or debuff on any of the below, adjust the total as required.

STRENGTH: 4/5 SPEED: 3/5 CHARISMA: 4/5 INTUITION: 4/5 AGILITY: 3/5 STAMINA: 4/5 INTELLIGENCE: 3/5 DURABILITY: 4/5

HEADCANONS:

He likes being an anonymous writer, but he actually rather likes writing, and if he could, he’d like to one day actually write under his real name, and not a pseudonym.

He also enjoys learning instruments, finding them calming. He’s kinda shitty at guitar, but that’s his current project.

He blames himself for his parents death, believing that it was his life as a thief that led to them being killed.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

mood boards: LINK desired plots:

His roommate, the son of the family that took pity on him, knows that Aiden’s a vigilante, but so far, they haven’t said a word about it.

Aiden needs to face the fact that his parents are dead, but his sister is not, and she managed to escape the revenge of her brother’s employer, and now she wants to know where the hell he’s been.

Original Art: LINK aesthetics: LINK || LINK

#accepted #audition #accepted audition #tw: blood

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