#really job hunting and uncertainty are so draining

[sukisukidaisuki66]

Once again, I’m SO done…

[contradictoryenigmas]

2024 Postmortem: 10 Questions

It's Thanksgiving and I'm walking along the Lake Huron shore in Northern Michigan with my parent's dog. The water crashing on the shore to one side; several cottages and homes on the other. As the dog tugs me onward on the beach, I begin to reflect on what has been a tumultuous year. Every day of the past year seemed to provide a fresh hell to deal with. I wanted to get off the ride to allow myself to calibrate to what just happened, only for a new thing to appear.

At the end of last year's piece, I was trying to be hopeful, considering what last year brought forth. But this year was a bit tougher, being an election season and Donald Trump being reelected only added fuel to the various uncertainties already on the plate; concerns about inflation, war in Gaza, increase in hate for different groups, etc. With everything happening in the world and my personal life, I was very drained of any sort of energy or desire.

But as I walked with the dog, something inside me started to rise up. I wouldn't call it hope, but it was some sort of motivation to get back on track.

Coming back from the walk, I took some of that motivation and started work on this year's edition of ten questions.

What made up your body of work this year? Which parts are you most proud of?

All of my work this year was for the day job. I wish I could tell you there was some exciting stuff to it, but alas, a lot of it is entering data into a system and doing quality checks when required. Working as part of the internal news team is helping me keep some of my writing and editing skills in working order.

One highlight has been taking over a colleague's newsletter. The newsletter provides updates to our team on industry news and new models coming down the road. It has allowed me to exercise my news-finding skills from when I was a freelance writer, along with adding some flourishes of personality to make it entertaining. I have gotten comments from co-workers who enjoy the newsletter, and that's a good feeling.

What were your top 5 moments of the year?

Still working on the hunt for a new job

Learning how to conserve my energy and take breaks

Getting back to reading for fun regularly

Beginning to research about small houses

Going for a walk nearly every weekday

What are you really glad is over?

The year!

(insert cymbal crash)

To be more serious, I'm glad to be done with the day for the year. I don't know what it was about this year, but the job just drained me in so many ways. The combination of a never-ending workload, trying to meet the unrealistic expectations of some clients, and working from home by myself did some damage to my health - both physical and mental. A key way I could tell was spending most of my weekends taking a nap. There is nothing wrong with this except that I wanted to try and accomplish other tasks.

I'm hoping my work improves in the next year or make a drastic change. Either way, it would help in numerous ways.

How are you different today than you were 365 days ago?

I've become disenchanted with technology. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy tinkering and working on various projects involving tech. But the past year of AI everything and the enshittification of various tools have made me step back and reevaluate my relationship with tech. This long piece of from Ed Zitron earlier this month really hit me in the right place.

"These people want everything from you — to control every moment you spend working with them so that you may provide them with more ways to make money, even if doing so doesn’t involve you getting anything else in return. Meta, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft and a majority of tech platforms are at war with the user, and, in the absence of any kind of consistent standards or effective regulations, the entire tech ecosystem has followed suit. A kind of Coalition of the Willing of the worst players in hyper-growth tech capitalism Things are being made linearly worse in the pursuit of growth in every aspect of our digital lives, and it’s because everything must grow, at all costs, at all times, unrelentingly, even if it makes the technology we use every day consistently harmful."

I have started to take some steps away from technolgy such as limiting my time on various social media sites, and looking at what my future with tech will look like.

I'm also proud of keeping up with the job hunt this year. There have been some promising leads and applications sent, but I haven't made it too far in the process. It has disheartened me at points, and I almost gave up. But I'm keeping at it, making small changes and improvements. I know that sooner or later, something will change for the better.

I'm glad to be getting back into reading after a long dry spell and being distracted by technology. I'm enjoying both nonfiction and fiction again, even though it takes me a bit to warm up to the latter. Reading before bed has also helped with my sleep by preventing me from having a bright screen in front of my face and messing with the cycle.

Journaling somewhat regularly has done a lot of good for my mental health. It allows me to unload my thoughts and memories of the day to give my brain some breathing space. Instead of ruminating on some bad experience or memory, I can write it down and move on with my day.

Is there anything you achieved that you forgot to celebrate?

Not for this year. There wasn't too much to celebrate.

What have you changed your perspective on this year?

That I want to write for myself. When I look back at my writing and what I enjoyed, I realize that it was my ideas that really got me going For example, I wrote about why I enjoyed the old days of The Weather Channel or how I avoided the dread of giving car advice by doing twenty questions.

When I was working as a freelance writer, I didn't really have the time or space to allow various ideas to flourish. I was trying to keep an unrealistic flow of work to keep me afloat and pay bills. Considering everything I was taking on by myself for almost a decade, I can now see the problems it brought forth: losing paying gigs and contacts due to poor quality work, not being able to keep up with backlogs, and ultimately burning out.

Since stepping away from freelancing, I've been trying to dip my toes back into writing. But I haven't been able to write much outside of the 'Ten Questions' pieces or journaling. I had the ideas for various pieces popping into my head, but there was two elements missing: the energy to put words out there and the desire.

The good news is that the desire has been returning over the past couple of months, partly due to me working on the newsletter for work. Doing that has brought back various skills that I worried were gone such as hunting down the source of a news story. The only item missing is the mental energy for the process. That is something I hope to work on in the coming year.

Who are the people that came through for you this year?

My therapist helped me through some rough patches throughout the year, as did my close family. Some of my co-workers deserve a big thank you for helping out with an immense backlog towards the end of the year.

What were some pieces of media that defined your year?

Lady Blackbrid - Like A Woman

I already had a song picked out as my favorite for the year. But this single from British singer Lady Blackbird that I listened for the first time at the beginning of December took its place. Her voice is amazing and the way the song flows really stands apart. I think it says a lot that I listened to this song on repeat for over an hour without tiring of it.

Kelly Finnegan - Love (Your Pain Goes Deep)

I'm a big fan of the Monophonics partly due to the vocals of the lead singer, Kelly Finnegan. His voice adds that special touch to the soul music the band puts out. The first single from his latest album hits in all of the right places and is perfect for when I'm feeling a bit down. This was going to be my top pick for music, but Lady Blackbird just jumped ahead.

Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door

I don't know what it is with the holidays and me playing RPGs. Last year, it was Super Mario RPG. This year, it was the second game in the Paper Mario series. I always wanted to play Thousand Year Door, but never had a Gamecube. Getting the game on the Switch earlier this year finally allowed me to enjoy one of the best stories in the series. It did take me longer to finish - started in November and only finished it the day before Christmas Eve. But it was well worth it.

John K. King Books

I finally made my way down to John K. King Books in Downtown Detroit after many years of hearing about the place. It is very much like an old-school bookstore with endless rows of bookshelves on its four floors. I remember having my mouth agape just at the amount of books on display. As I was walking away with a small stack of mystery and pulp books, I told myself to come back soon.

What will you be leaving behind in 2025?

Nothing. It still feels like I am carrying a number of items from the past couple of years. I hope in the new year, I can put some of it down to give myself a breather.

What do you hope to accomplish in 2025?

I hope to get back to writing on a somewhat regular basis. A close friend of mine has offered to let me post some automotive writings on their site and I want to take advantage of that. Of course, I need to get back the energy to pull this off. But as I mentioned earlier, I have to find ideas that interest me.

I also want to get my financial affairs in some sort of order. The combination of inflation and various unexpected expenses towards the end of the year left me in a precarious place. It would help with some goals I have planned down the road such as building a new computer and taking a well-deserved vacation.

There are some other items I want to work towards such as starting some sort of exercise regime and trying to explore myself to discover and re-discover parts, hopefully opening up some new doors.

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

About a month later, I found myself back in Northern Michigan and walking along the shore of Lake Huron. After a bit of walking, I stand and watch the waves crash into the large ice shelves along the shoreline. Just watching it gave me a sense of peace and allowed me to think about what the next year will bring.

I feel conflicted about what 2025 has in store. We have an upcoming presidential administration that looks ready to wreak havoc on numerous parts which could result in repercussions in the coming years.

But I am also feeling hopeful for some parts. I've noticed that some energy is returning to me and I want to try and put that to good use. I'm also noticing there are people who are trying to make a difference in the world through various efforts - fundraising, providing support, going on strike, and other ways. This has me thinking about how I could play a role in efforts like this in the coming year.

I think the best way I can sum up my feelings for 2025 is a line from The Red Green Show,

"Remember, I'm pulling for you. We're all in this together."

[lidwinupgro]

How Walker Davis, the Best Immigration Consultants in Dubai, Helped Albin Secure a New Life in Australia

Albin had always been the provider for his family—a loving husband and father of two young children. Working in a high-demand sector in Dubai, he believed his job was secure. But then, in a matter of weeks, everything changed. The company he had worked for announced a round of layoffs, and like many others, Albin found himself without a job.

The news hit hard. The stability that once anchored his family seemed to crumble overnight. Bills started piling up, savings were draining fast, and the pressure to find another job grew with each passing day. Albin applied everywhere, but no opportunities seemed to come his way. The stress was overwhelming, and the uncertainty about the future was even harder on his family.

A Golden Opportunity from an Unexpected Place

One evening, after a long day of job hunting and battling anxiety, Albin received an unexpected message. It was from an old colleague who had moved to Australia a few years back. He mentioned a golden opportunity—a position that was opening up at his company in Australia, and they were specifically looking for someone with Albin’s experience.

It seemed too good to be true. After months of struggling, Albin saw a glimmer of hope for his family’s future. But there was just one problem: He had no idea how to migrate to Australia. The thought of handling the complicated immigration process on his own felt overwhelming. He worried about whether his application would be accepted, how long the process would take, and what would happen to his family in the meantime.

An Eye-Opening Moment: Discovering Walker Davis

Days passed, and the weight of uncertainty grew. Albin couldn’t afford to make mistakes when it came to something as important as his family’s future. While researching online, he stumbled upon a company that would change his life forever—Walker Davis, the best immigration consultants in Dubai. At first, he was hesitant. Could they really help him navigate the complicated waters of Australian immigration?

He decided to give them a call, and that’s when everything started to shift. From the very first consultation, Albin felt understood. The consultants at Walker Davis listened to his story, his fears, and his dreams for his family’s future. They reassured him that, with their guidance, his migration to Australia could be smooth and efficient.

The Path to Australia with Walker Davis

Walker Davis created a personalized plan for Albin and his family, ensuring that every step of the Australian immigration process was handled with care and expertise. They guided him through the paperwork, explained every legal requirement, and gave him clear timelines so he knew what to expect. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

The day Albin’s visa was approved, he was in disbelief. After months of struggling, feeling lost and helpless, he was finally given the chance to rebuild his life and offer his family the stability they deserved. With Walker Davis’s expert help, Albin and his family packed their bags and headed for Australia.

A New Beginning: Albin’s Life in Australia

Today, Albin looks back at that difficult time with gratitude. What once felt like an insurmountable challenge became the pathway to a new life in Australia. He now has a great job at a thriving company, his children are enrolled in excellent schools, and his family is happier and more secure than ever. The overwhelming uncertainty has been replaced with a new sense of hope and excitement for the future.

And none of this would have been possible without the unwavering support of Walker Davis, the best immigration consultants in Dubai. Their guidance turned a daunting process into a seamless experience. Albin’s story is a testament to the power of finding the right help when it’s needed most.

The Best Immigration Consultants in Dubai: Your Key to a Brighter Future

If you’re like Albin—facing uncertainty or considering a fresh start in Australia—Walker Davis can be the key to unlocking your future. Their deep understanding of Australia’s immigration process and their commitment to personalized service ensure that every client gets the support they need to succeed.

Albin’s story isn’t just his; it’s the story of countless families who have turned to Walker Davis for guidance in securing their future in Australia. With their help, dreams of a better life can become a reality.

Ready to start your own journey? Visit Walker Davis Skilled Migration today and take the first step toward building your new life in Australia.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Distrust  -  Nine

Pairing: Past!Steve Rogers X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: After Bucky gets ‘taken’ on a mission gone wrong, Steve blames you for it, casting you out. HYDRA takes advantage of your vulnerable state and is quick to capture you, the team knowing nothing of anything that’s happened.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Language, Minor Triggering things???

Word Count: 2.6K

A/n: Hey guys. This can be the ending if you want, but I plan on posting a part 10/epilogue thing and I’m excited for it. Anyway, enjoy this!!

Edited Poorly Cause I’m Excited Lol Series Masterlist Masterlist

~*~

“She’s made amazing progress so far. I’m very proud of her and I think, if she continues this good work, she could very well be discharged by the end of the month,” June says to Tony, Nat, and Bucky.

“However I think it’s in her best interests to have her own apartment or house or something of the sort. Being... away from the Avengers and the constant reminder of who she was... that was extremely damaging to her mental health. I would like to keep in contact with you all over the next month as we try to figure out a place for (Y/n) to live. I’d also like to set her up with her own job. One with a very flexible schedule. If you have any ideas or anything don’t hesitate to contact me or any of the nurses here. We all want (Y/n) leaving here with her head held high, a good life set ahead of her.”

“I'm sure we could find her a house easily. It’s just, making sure she likes it would be the problem,” Nat says softly. “We could take her house hunting,” Bucky suggests, looking at the other two people.

“That could work. She was talking about having brunch with you all anyway. Perhaps that’s something you could discuss with her over the meal? She’s excited to start her own life away from the clinic, but she’ll need support. Mister Barnes, you’ve been... a pillar in her recovery. And without you, she wouldn’t have come so far so fast. I don’t want you to just go back to how things were. I do not know how (Y/n) would react to that and I don’t want to risk any relapses.” Bucky nods, understanding what the nurse is implying.

“Perfect! We hope to have(Y/n) discharged by the end of the month. But definitely before the tenth of next month.” Nat and Tony smile relieved smiles at each other, and Bucky grins to himself, happy that you’re getting better.

~*~

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” June asks from the driver's seat of the Honda Civic. You look over at her then nod, taking a few deep breaths. “I need to do this. It’s one of the last steps I need to take to embrace everything, ya’know?” She smiles proudly at you as you climb out of the vehicle. You straighten your dress, square your shoulders, then walk into the restaurant.

It’s not completely empty, which is a surprise in itself. Tony enjoys dining alone.

You're grateful for the other patrons of the restaurant, knowing you’d have a harder time doing things if there was nothing but silence in the restaurant.

You make your way over to the greeter, only to be intercepted by a tall man.

“(Y/n)!” Bucky takes your hand and squeezes it gently. You smile up at him and pull him into a tight hug, letting yourself relax for a moment in his embrace.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You still have time to back out,” He whispers into your hair. You pull away and look up into his icy blue eyes. “I need to do this. This is something that’ll help me more than it’ll hurt me.” He nods, taking your hand again and leading you to a booth tucked away in the back of there restaurant.

Sitting at the booth, each with a glass of water in front of them, is Nat, Tony, and Wanda.

You smile shyly at them as they all look up, relieved smiles on their faces. You slide into the booth across from them and Bucky slides in next to you, his hand continuing to hold yours.

“(Y/n). You look so good,” Nat whispers, her eyes moving over your face.

“Thank you. I... I feel good. I feel really good, actually.” Tony smiles at you and takes a deep breath.

“So you’re gonna be let out of there soon, huh?” You nod excitedly and start talking about your mental health and all the progress you’ve made.

“That’s wonderful, (Y/n). We’re all so happy that you’re getting so much better!” Wanda exclaims after you’ve finished speaking.

A waiter sets food you don’t remember ordering down on the table. Bucky nudges you and winks, letting you know that he ordered you your favourite.

“I’m happy too. I’m excited to start... living again. To have my own place and a job and a life. It’s scary and I know it’s gonna be really hard and I’ll have really bad days that’ll break me, but... it’s worth it. I know that no matter how hard it gets, I’ll have people to turn to, and that’s all that really matters anyway.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they think about what you’ve said while you all eat.

“I was thinking... maybe I could take you house-hunting? I mean, when you’re ready. I know that seeing us might set you back a bit in your recovery, but when you’re ready to see us again, I’d like to do that with you. Help you find a place to call home.”

You smile at Tony’s offer and nod, “I’d like that, Tony. A lot. I’ve really missed you guys. And... it’s been hard, knowing that seeing you was setting me back. It’s been hard dealing with how much pain I’ve unintentionally caused. June says I shouldn’t worry about you guys because you’re all worried about me, but I can’t help it.”

Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes gently, comforting you. You open your mouth, choosing your words carefully then giving up and deciding to just go with your gut.

“June says I shouldn’t push myself too far, but I need to know... how is he?” The four other people at the table stiffen at the mention of Steve.

“He’s... I don’t even know, honestly. For the first month, he was a wreck. He tried to do a bunch of reckless things but the serum prevented most of it from working. After that he buried himself in his work, spending every waking moment doing something. He was distant for a while, but now he’s getting better. He’s been talking to a therapist I think... trying to better himself. He’s been talking abbot how to make things better... how to make you feel better, but so far he’s come up with nothing.” You nod slowly at the new information, your heart hurting a bit as you realize how awful he must’ve felt.

“I don’t want you worrying about Steve, okay?” Bucky asks softly, looking into your eyes with a determination unlike any you’ve seen.

“I’ll try not to, but it’s hard. He used to be such a big part of my life. I think facing him is going to be the final step in my recovery. I think I need that kind of closure,” you whisper.

The others are quiet as they think about this. They know it’s your decision, but they can’t help but feel nervous about it for you. Seeing all the progress you’ve made away from all of them, away from him, it’s not something they want to be wasted.

“If you think you’re ready, we’ll support you. Whenever you want to talk to him, you tell me and I’ll set it up. Whether that be in the clinic, in a therapists office, in a restaurant, or in a park. I’ll be there if you want me to be,” Bucky says softly. The others nod their agreement and you can’t help the tears that fill your eyes.

“Thank you guys, so much for everything you've done to help me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys but I’m so grateful for you.”

~

“Do you have any idea when you’d want to see him? Just so I can make sure I’m free.” You shrug, swinging your arm between the two of you as you walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know. Soon, maybe. Maybe not. I feel... kinda drained after all that with Tony and them. I need to recharge or something.” He nods, understanding what that feels like.

“I think, you should wait at least a week. Really gather your thoughts and prepare yourself. Then, once you know you’re ready to talk to him and know what you want to say, you can go for it and be... actually prepared and ready for it all. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be emotionally taxing and might send you in a downward spiral. But I want you to know that I’m going to be here for you... with you, every step of the way.” He stops walking at the entrance to a little park, looking at you with a certain uncertainty in his eyes.

“Thank you, Bucky. Without you... I wouldn’t even be alive right now. I’m so fucking grateful for you and everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know how I’ll repay you, but I know I’ll work my ass off trying.”

He brings one hand up and carefully cups your cheek, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t need to repay me for anything. I’d do what I did a thousand times over again if it means that I get to stand here with you right now. You mean a lot to me, (Y/n), and I just don’t... I don’t want you to ever think no one loves you or no one cares because I do. I always have and I always will.” You put your hand over his and look between his eyes and his lips, your heart hammering in your chest.

“I... Bucky... I...” He smiles and looks at you with nothing but soft adoration in his eyes. “You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to know that I’ll be here. You helped me when I needed help. You saved me when I needed to be saved. I'm returning the favour because I love you, (Y/n). God, I love you.”

You don’t fight anything in your body. You let your mind go blank and push up onto your toes to connect your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. A kiss filled with unspoken words on your part and acceptance on his. It’s hesitant and slow and everything you never knew you needed until right exactly now.

His lips are warm as they move against yours, and you can’t help but brush your tongue out against them.

He pulls back after a moment more and chuckles softly, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ll always be with you, (Y/n). You mean the world to me and we’re gonna get through this together. I promise.”

You slot your lips against his once more, this time feeling more secure in what you’re doing as you take control of your life and your heart.

He gently grips your waist as you thread your fingers through his hair, wanting nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life.

~

Steve’s been pacing for the past half hour, a million thoughts running through his mind as he waits for you in front of the large beautiful pond in Central Park.

It’s a calming place, he understands why you chose it. What he doesn’t understand, is why you chose to speak to him.

Before he can overthink anymore, he hears someone clear their throat.

He spins faster than he thinks possible, a little lightheaded for a moment as his eyes focus, and then he’s filled with more emotions than he thought possible for a human to feel at one time.

You’re standing there. Looking beautiful and healthy as ever.

You’re watching him with guarded eyes, but you don’t look broken. Not anymore, and for that, he’s more than grateful.

“Hello, Steve.” He almost crumbles as he hears your voice.

“(Y/n). Hi,” he breathes, stepping closer to you. You take a step back and look over your shoulder.

Bucky steps forwards, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Please, have a seat,” you say while motioning to the bench right behind him. He nods eagerly and sits down. You slowly over yourself beside him, taking some deep breaths as you chose your words.

“Tony says you haven’t been doing very well lately,” you begin, eyes finding his. He swallows hard then shrugs. “I... I just want to help you. But I don’t know how. I know staying away is probably the best thing but there must be more I can do.”

You look down at your hands.

“I’m being discharged in three weeks. Tony and Bucky helped me find a place and Nat and Wanda are helping me decorate and furnish it. Tony’s got me a job lined up and Sam’s and Clint have been helping me go furniture shopping. I’m recovering. I never, ever thought I’d get my life back after everything that happened. I’m so glad that I have, though. But... my life can’t include you in any way at all anymore Steve.”

His head snaps in your direction so fast you swear he cracks something.

“W-what?”

You sigh and look down at your hands. “Being around you... being near you after what you did... that was one of the main reasons why I wasn’t getting better at the tower. But away from the constant reminders of what happened there, away from everything that brings me back to my days with HYDRA... I got better. But I needed closure. It’s wrong to cut you out with no explanation so here it is.”

He’s quiet for a few moments before he sniffles and nods. “I understand, (Y/n). I hope you continue getting better. If you ever need anything and you have absolutely no one else, I’ll always, always be here. You were... are maybe the love of my life.” You take a deep breath and look over at him.

“You were my first love. The father of my first daughter. And the reason why I need to leave.” The mention of his daughter brings a sob bubbling out of his chest.

“I’ll never forget you, (Y/n). I still love you and I fucking wish I never sent you away. I wish… fuck, I wish for too much. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. For all the loses you've experienced and all the pain. I’m sorry. I hope I’m thoroughly punished for everything I’ve done. I deserve it.”

You shake your head and pick at the skin surrounding your fingernails.

“No. You don’t deserve a punishment. Although it is your fault,” he coughs a sob, “you didn’t directly inflict the majority of the physical pain I endured. So for that, you don’t need to worry.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “But I will. Every moment of every day for the rest of my stupidly long life I’ll worry about you. About what you’re doing, how you're doing. Because you occupy my every single thought. Because I love you still. And I know you don’t love me anymore and I know how awful I’ve been.”

You take a few deep breaths then stand up.

“Thank you, for all the good experiences you gave me. All the sweet memories. Thank you so very much. You were my first love and I know that I won’t forget you. I only hope overtime I remember you as the man I knew before.”

With that, you turn and start walking away, leaving Steve crying softly on the bench as Bucky follows after you.

A weight gets lifted off of your shoulders as Bucky interlocks your fingers again.

This is it.

This is what closure feels like.

It does hurt, a lot more than you thought it would, but now you’re free to start actually living your own life.

Without the weight of your past.

Without any of that baggage.

You’re free.

NEXT

~ 

TAGS:

PERMANENT TAGS:

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MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl  @look-to-the-stars-and-wish  @maladaptive-ninja-returns  @cliffordasparagus  @april-14-blog  @potteritis @momc95  @shakzer00 

DISTRUST:

@sthorkronstrangy  @baebeepeach  @phoenix-whiskey-tears  @canumoveurseatup-no  @marvel13princess  @aplolomq  @crist1216  @its-ray-bae  @littledeadrottinghood  @justendlesssummerfeels  @whitewolfsnow  @multireality  @a--1--1--3  @some-random-stranger-007  @avengemepercy  @20gayneen  @clockworkherondale

Steve Rogers:

@an-anonymoususer

Bucky tags:

@chuuulip  @nerd-without-a-cause  @natashasnight  @dragonrosegardens

[basicbrittiknow]

Advice To My Younger Self

Hey guys!! I hope everyone had a marvelous week and an even better weekend!!

Last week, I got some homework done, Friday I went to the drive-in with one of my best friends, to see Grease, which was such a cute time, and such an awesome way to get me out of the house!!

Today is Monday, August 17, 2020 and the topic of “things I would tell my younger self” popped into my brain on Friday, so I not only want to share some things I would’ve told myself when I was younger but I want to hear from you!! Please, share with me some things you would have told your younger self. 

I am 25, but I, by no means, know everything!! I have so much life left to live and so much more to learn. But that’s what this blog is all about right? Living, learning and growing together!! 

So let’s dive in, shall we?!

First order of business, school, or specifically, college. I don’t know about you, but college has always been apart of the plan for me. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t include college in my post high school plans. However, the plans I had for myself and the plans life had for me were two different things. When I graduated high school, I did go to college, but it wasn’t the college that I so excitedly looked forward to it was community college. *SIDE NOTE* There is absolutely nothing wrong with community college!! In fact, looking back, I wasn’t ready, in the slightest, to attend a University!! I was right where I needed to be!! And if I could go back in time, I would have done everything the exact same way. Because my time at community college allowed me to grow as a person and student, it gave me the time to become a more independent and responsible young adult, and it showed me that my future really is up to me, whether or not I sink or swim, is up to me 

So what would I tell my younger self about school? I would tell myself to work hard and stay focused, because everything works out the way it’s supposed to and in it’s own time. I would tell my younger self not to worry so much about what comes next, because everything will be just fine!!

Next up, let’s talk about relationships!! Relationships come in all types of forms: familial, platonic, professional, and of course, romantic. While different elements make up the different types of relationships, I have the same message for all of them, and that is, if the relationship doesn’t POSITIVELY affect you, let it go!! I’m not saying that if things aren’t always smooth sailing, never without a problem, walk away, because in that case, you may find yourself alone majority of the time. But I am saying that if a relationship of any kind leaves you upset, emotionally drained, fearful and unsure of yourself, walk away!! You’ll thank yourself later!! Trust me, I know it’s a lot easier said than done, but please!! Find it in yourself to leave alone those people who bring uncertainty, toxicity (yes, family can be toxic too) and unhappiness to you. I promise, there are better days and better people ahead.

I would have told my younger self all of these things regarding relationships, but I would have included “speak up for yourself”, which is something that I still struggle with!!But it is also something that has led to so many fall outs. If someone has a problem with you speaking up for yourself. for defending yourself, for being strong for yourself, for being yourself, those people are not meant to be in your life, and unworthy to do so. LET THEM GO!! You’ll be so much happier in the long run ;)

Next, goals/aspirations. When I was 18 and graduating high school, even beyond that age, well into my early twenties, nothing made me happier, more excited, than the thought of being young, rich and famous!! I wanted to be a super famous singer and tour with One Direction (they were so in at the time), and I was certain that that would be how Harry Styles and I would meet, fall in love and live happily ever after. *SIDE NOTE* If fame and fortune is your dream, YOU GO GIRL/BOY!! Chase that dream and work hard for it, and I know you can achieve it!! However, if you’re like me, and your dreams/goals/ambitions change every day, that’s okay too!! 

Ever heard that saying “A dream is a wish your heart makes.” by the famous Cinderella? That wish that your heart is making could be for the near or even distant future. Meaning between now and the time your wish comes true, it is perfectly fine to have a change of heart, to change up your plans!!

My advice to my younger self, and my advice to you, reading this, is to pursue whatever it is that sets your soul on fire in the best way. Pursue what makes you happy, pursue whatever it is that makes you excited to get out of bed in the morning!! 

It is a little scary and unnerving not having every little detail of your life figured out, at least for me it is, but the truth is, nobody has all of the answers, nobody has it all figured out, and that’s okay!!

Now, let’s talk about sex baby!! Freshman, 15 year old Brittany swore up and down she had met the one. I just knew I had met the boy I would marry, have a family with and share all the special firsts everyone experiences. I knew all of this at 15 and I was so wrong at 15!! Fast forward, 10 years later, and there have been at least 3 or 4 or 5 more guys (I’ve been a little less focused on the important stuff in the past) who I thought the same thing of. And guess what, I was wrong EVERY SINGLE TIME!! So here we are, age 25, still single, still waiting to experience all the special things with my very own special person, but I’m okay!!

The thought of being 25 and single with not even ONE prospect, at 15, made me cringe!! There was NO WAY!! It just wasn’t going to be, at least not for 15 year old me. 

While my journey to loving and embracing all the lessons and freedoms of single life hasn’t been smooth, fun, quick or consistent, RIGHT NOW, I’m very clear headed and I view the “single journey” if you will as such a magnificent, at times lonely, but overall wonderful time of self-discovery!! I learn something new about myself, and about life everyday, and I’m having so much fun!!

I say all of this to say, if I could talk t my younger self, knowing what I know now, I would tell myself to embrace every experience you have as a single person, learn all that you can while you can, and as far as sex? Wait until you meet the person that looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, like you’re the most important person in the room. Wait until you meet the person you KNOW will be there in the morning, not the one you HOPE will be there in the morning. Wait until you’ve found the person who is every cheesy but lovely cliche you can think of. WAIT!! It may not be easy, it may not be fun, but 25 year old Brittany promises, it ill be soooooo worth it. I don’t know everything, but the whole point of this blog is to live, learn and grow together, right? So that’s that on that!! MOVING ON!!

FEARS... fears have been something that I’ve come to be extremely familiar with since 2013, the year I graduated high school. From what class to take next, to what job to apply for and accept, to what purchase to make with this week’s paycheck, I live very cautiously, I must admit!! But living cautiously and living fearfully are two different things!! Being afraid is totally normal, everyone has fears. HOWEVER, in the words of the late great Babe Ruth, “Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”

My life has been nothing short of beautiful, oozing with small victories, *Humble brag* and I refuse to believe it will be any less beautiful in the years to come. Life hasn’t always dealt me the best cards, but my life has been so amazing and beautiful because I never let fear control me and my decisions; even if I failed, I still took a chance, I didn’t let fear prevent me from at least cracking the door of opportunity. 

So in knowing all that I do not, I would tell my younger self to be afraid, cry and even hesitate if you want, but when you’re done freaking out, do what scares you anyway!! Because you never know what excitement lies on the other side of fear.

And finally, the future!! To sit here and say that the thought of the future, with all of it’s uncertainty and inevitable change, doesn’t cause alarm in me from time to time, would be a lie. It’s August; who would have thought that back in March, I’d still be unemployed, 5 months later, due to the pandemic? Had you told me that this was what would happen I would have started job hunting THEN!! 

My point is, none of us know what the near and/or distant future holds for us. So live for right now, as cheesy, cliche and played out as that sounds!! Putting my own twist on it... “Live for right now, but also live for the person you’ll be in 5, 15, 20 years. Make good, fun decisions and memories that future you will be proud of and even benefit from. I’m only just now learning that, but if I could tell my younger self anything regarding the future, it would be this. Live every day so that in years to come, you can look back and smile proudly!!

[buffyversefanfiction]

Twisted Tristan (Buffy Fanfiction)

Chapter 10 - #TeamTwisted #Death2Drusilla #Volume2

Warnings: I do not own or claim to own the original content to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, “Angel”, the comics or any of the original characters from the “Buffyverse” all rights belong to Joss Whedon.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Tristan Summers had lived an extraordinary life over his few short years on this earth getting to experience love not once but twice: his first love being his high school sweetheart Lucas Brown and his second being the love of his life vampire Dante.

He once had the perfect family life with his parents Mr and Mrs Black until they were cruelly taken away from him and that’s when everything started to go downhill from there. He never did recover from losing his adoptive parents who he loved just as much as if they were his biological parents.

He was doomed from birth wanted by so many evils upon conception as manipulated by Drusilla since birth as she placed him time and time exactly where she needed him to be to make her dreams a reality as she twisted his grief into vengeance using that to calculate his every move.

Despite his dark and twisted life Tristan was loved deeply: Dante never experienced nor felt love until he fell in love with Tristan, despite how much Mandi hated him she loved him even more having loved him all her life and there was nothing he could ever do that would make his biological parents Buffy and Angel stop loving him even if would be easier for them all not to love him they kept doing so.

Tristan Summers’ lifeless body just lay there in the middle of the woods late at night with a clear wound on his throat that could only have been caused by his throat being slit by a knife while his own dry blood stain his clothes.

Tristan’s plan, Faith’s plan, Spike’s plan, Mandi’s plan was to finally kill Drusilla a vampire who had escaped death one too many times a vampire who most of them felt deserved to be killed and even though Drusilla would always hold a special place in Spike’s heart he would’ve rather have had her die than Tristan but due a series of cruel twists and turns it was Tristan who’s death was delivered not Drusilla.

“So, I guess this is what death must feel like to be honest with you it feels weirder than I though it’s weirdly numbing. Death is everything and yet nothing like I expected it to be and I never expected death to come for me tonight although I knew my days were always number I just never expected to be murdered by a woman I was claimed was my savior a woman I was loved like a mother.” Tristan said from beyond the grave as his spirit appeared standing above his corpse. “I’ve cheated death so many times I knew one day it would finally come for me, but never did I expect it to be by her. A part of me died the moment I found my parents lifeless and bloodied bodies in our family home and I became a dead man walking, talking only for revenge hoping once I got my revenge, I would finally find peace. I was a fool for believing that someone like me ever deserved to find peace.”

Earlier That Night

Faith, Spike and Mandi found themselves hiding behind trees with the sight of the abandoned hospital asylum in front of them just a few yards away as they waited for Tristan to signal them to make their move all three of them fearing that the signal may never come knowing how much Drusilla once meant to Tristan.

“So, at which stage do we call it quits and head home before or after we’re killed?” Spike asked Faith and Mandi while remained hiding behind the trees watching the building closely.

“We’re not heading home without him!” Mandi snapped. “He may not give a damn about any of us but the one thing he’s loved ever since Drusilla came into his life is revenge and right now all that rage is aimed in her direction.”

“You mean until she feeds him some lie and suddenly, we’re the sitting targets.” Faith replied to her. “You of all people should know how convincing she can be.”

“I believe in him.” She said with uncertainty until she noticed a vampire being thrown through a window smashing the glass into pieces while he fell to the ground causing Mandi to sigh with relief. “Okay that wasn’t quite the signal we talked about, but it certainly got our attention.”

“Here goes nothing Spike.” Faith said to the blonde-haired vampire before turning to face the brown-haired witch. “Start chanting and hope we don’t all wind up dead.”

Tristan found himself fighting for his life after pulling out a wooden stake and launching himself towards the vampire army circling him staking vampire after vampire causing them to turn to dust each time as he continued to fight his way a seemingly never ending army of vampires but to Drusilla’s dismay who stood at the end of the hallway within the abandoned hospital asylum confused and horrified by Tristan’s actions.

“Stop being a bad boy!” She began screaming frantically and repeatedly before seeing Faith and Spike burst into the hallway with wooden stakes in hands wasting no time in joining Tristan fight against the vampires making Drusilla even more worried than before.

“I must admit I thought you were going to kill us all.” Faith shouted in Tristan’s direction while dusting a vampire.

“The night is still young yet.” Tristan replied as he dodged a punch from a vampire before punching the same vampire and dusting it.

“Which one of us gets to stake Drusilla?” Spike asked while eyeing up his former ex while fighting with her vampire army before noticing her beginning to run away out of the hallway. “I guess she escapes again.”

“To hell with that!” Tristan snapped as he dusted another vampire. “You guys can finish up here, but this doesn’t end until I’ve plunged a stake in that bitch once and for all.”

Mandi stood right in front of the abandoned hospital asylum chanting away to herself while the rest of team twisted fought of the vampires inside.

The wind began to pick up as Mandi’s hair began to change from brown to black as the wind grew stronger and strong until it was circling her blowing her black hair back and forth as her veins grew darker and more vibrantly showing on her skin as she continued to chant louder and louder not noticing Drusilla coming out of the building via jumping out of an opened window.

Drusilla eyed Mandi up from a distance and in that moment felt nothing but rage blaming the witch for taking away here last child and deciding to teach the girl a lesson right there and then as she began lurking towards her prey making sure the witch was too busy chanting whatever spell she was casting to notice her.

“You’ve been a really bad witch!” Drusilla snapped at her before punching Mandi across the face causing her to hit the ground instantly, knocking her out in the process and causing Mandi’s hair to turn back brown.

Drusilla pulled a blade from out of the chest of her dress before picking up Mandi’s unconscious body and holding the knife to her throat ready to slay the witch she blamed for Tristan’s sudden turnaround.

“No!” Tristan screamed after jumping out of the same window as Drusilla and ran over to stop Drusilla.

“You’ve been a bad boy Tristan and you need to be punished.” She replied as she continued to hold the knife towards the throat of an unconscious Mandi. “Besides she’s annoyed me for far too long.”

“If you let her live, I’ll come with you without any tricks.” Tristan pleaded with her. “You can turn me into a vampire, and I won’t fight you anymore. We can be a family again!”

“Fool me once shame on you.” Drusilla uttered before throwing Mandi’s unconscious body at Tristan who quickly caught his childhood friend stumbling a bit by doing so.

Drusilla quickly launched at Tristan using her blade to slit his throat instantly before putting on her vamp face and launching her fangs into her slit neck draining him off his blood while grabbing a hold of him as he began to fall as an unconscious Mandi’s body once again fell to the ground.

Drusilla continued to drain Tristan of his blood until she started to hear his beat become slower and slower at which point, she dropped him to his knees before using her nail to slit her throat slightly just enough to make her bleed.

“Now be a good boy and feed it’s either feed or die my darling boy I know you’ll make the right choice.” Drusilla told him as she lifted him back up and placed his head on her neck ready for him to feed from her before he died.

Tristan looked resistant for a moment as he felt his life drawing nearer to it’s end before he bit down on Drusilla’s neck refusing to stay dead in that moment and began drinking from Drusilla’s blood making her his sire making Drusilla finally his vampire mother much to her own wicked delight.

Spike and Faith walked out of the front door of the abandoned hospital asylum having just dusted the remaining vampires only to be left shocked to see Mandi laid on the field looking lifeless.

“I swear to god if he’s back-stabbed us…” Spike snapped fearing for his friend as he and Faith rushed over to her.

Spike lifting her up in his arms shaking Mandi’s body furiously in hopes of waking her up and after a few moments her eyes opened much to Faith and Spike’s relief as Spike instantly hugged his friend thankful for her still being alive.

“Thank god he didn’t kill you.” Spike said while continuing to hug Mandi tighter and tighter.

“Okay let her go before you wind up finishing the job.” Faith told him as she broke off the friend’s hug.

“Where’s Tristan?” Mandi asked frantically worrying about her childhood friend.

“He’s either hunting Drusilla or on the run with her who knocked you out cold anyway?” Faith asked her.

“Drusilla I’m surprised I’m alive to snitch on her.” Mandi replied clearly in shock while looking around for any sign of Tristan. “He would never have run away from her.”

“I don’t think he did,” Spike revealed as he knelled putting his finger into a large amount of blood spilled on the ground before licking the blood off his finger. “This is Tristan’s blood.”

“Oh god no!” Mandi squealed in shock, truly devastated by the thoughts beginning to surface in her mind about what had happened to Tristan. “He must’ve fought her off as she tried to kill me.”

“Tristan didn’t strike me as the saving type he’s probably just wounded a little if he did try and save you and we’ll find him.” Faith guessed while beginning to look around the woods.

“He had several chances to kill me time and time again and he never did.” Mandi cried. “Despite everything he never turned twisted enough to kill me.”

“There’s a lot of Tristan’s blood here but there’s also some of Drusilla.” Spike said as he stood back up. “There’s no dust anywhere so I’m guessing Tristan’s either dead or undead judging by how much she loves her children I’d guess the latter.”

“Oh god this is all my fault,” Mandi began sobbing. “I should’ve seen her coming I should’ve been able to cast them damn sunlight spell quicker!”

“None of this is on you Mandi.” Spike reassured her as he rushed over to hug his heartbroken friend. “We all knew the risk going into this Tristan especially.”

“Do you really believe she would turn him?” Faith asked Spike while he continued to hug his grieving friend.

“I know for certain that’s exactly what she would do if she had a chance especially knowing his emotions was getting the better of him as she would say.” Spike admitted to Faith. “We need to inform Buffy and Angel and we need to let them decide.”

“Decide what?” Mandi asked as she broke off the hug and began drying her tears.

“If we find him now and kill him before he becomes a vampire, or we wait till he’s a vampire before we kill him.” Faith revealed, clearly not happy with the only choices they now had left.

Buffy sat on the couch in her living room sitting next to Willow the two all curled up on the sofa covered in blankets and eating popcorn while watching old movies on the television as they had a movie night within their apartment in San Francisco which was Willow’s idea to try and calm Buffy’s nerves about Tristan not realizing that this was the day Buffy would lose her son once again.

Their movie time was quickly interrupted by the loud ringing of their house phone as Buffy pinched the popcorn bowl and looked at Willow with a knowing smile that said Willow was the one who was going to have to answer that call.

“Fine but if I miss anything good, I’ll put a hex on you.” Willow joked as she rushed into the kitchen of their apartment and picked up the phone which was hanging on the wall next to the fridge. “Hello oh hey Spike yes it’s Willow you’d think you’d know my voice by now.”

Willow suddenly went painfully silent as she found herself completely shocked by the news that Spike was telling her while tears began forming in her eyes.

“No, it’s okay I’ll tell her I don’t know how I’m going to tell her, but I will.” Willow told Spike as her voice began to break and tears began falling down her cheeks. “I know use done the best you could, we all did.”

Willow put the phone back on the wall before allowing herself to break down for a moment covering her mouth as she wept so Buffy wouldn’t hear her cries knowing she was going to have to stay strong for her friend knowing this news was going to break her and fearing she may never come back from losing her son again.

“Willow what’s wrong?” Buffy asked her as Willow walked back into the living room.

Buffy’s face began to drop as Willow told her of Tristan’s death at the hands of Drusilla causing her to scream and cry while sobbing as she struggled to contain her grief over her son’s death wishing nothing more for it all to be a terrible dream as she couldn’t help but blame herself for her son’s fate.

“We’ll get through this somehow I don’t know how but we will.” Willow cried as she rushed over to Buffy and hugged her tightly allowing Buffy to completely break down in her hands. “I’m so sorry Buffy I’m so sorry.”

Tristan’s lifeless corpse just lay there in the middle of the woods his throat slit from Drusilla’s knife as his spirit continued to linger while watching Drusilla dig him a grave out in the wild knowing night was going to turn to day soon so she had little time to bury her son before hiding from the sunlight as she planned to return for him at night forced into hoping no-one would find him before then.

“The last thing I ever expected to get me killed was my humanity the irony is if I was as truly twisted as I and everyone else believed I’d probably still be alive right now or maybe I was always destined to die this day maybe this was always her plan after all she wanted nothing more than Buffy to die more so than I ever did so I guess there’s a chance she saw all this coming that she saw Dante die and then me.” Tristan said as his spirit continued to watch Drusilla dig a grave for his body. “I guess I can’t complain with the amount of lives I’ve snuffed out over my life this is clearly what is deserving for me however I can’t help but wish that this death was finale that my body could finally rest from all this madness. God knows how much evil that body will commit now it’s a soulless monster even more wicked than I once was, but I guess that’s exactly what she wanted.”

Drusilla walked over to Tristan’s body picking it up and throwing it into the grave before beginning to shovel the dirt back on top of him burying him as quickly as possible so she could run off and find somewhere to hide out until the impending day turned back to night.

“I’m sorry mummy had to kill you I really am my darling boy, but I had to kill you, so I didn’t lose you.” Drusilla said while continuing to shovel more dirt onto Tristan’s corpse as she shed a single tear. “I know you won’t be the same when you return but I’ll love you all the same and if they thought you were twisted before just wait until you rise again my sweet boy.”

Faith got herself to New York before getting on the first plane she could early hours that morning as she jetted off to Los Angeles to inform Angel what had happened to his son fearing how he would react especially knowing Mandi and Spike were still out in those woods searching for Tristan’s corpse as Spike used a blanket he found within the hospital to cover his body as much as possible taking breaks in shade to heal from his burns as the two of them hoping to end Tristan once and for all before the monster inside of him rose again.

“Angel there’s something I need to tell you.” Faith said with tears in her eyes after finally arriving at the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles now standing in front of Angel who was sat behind his desk in his off. “It’s about Tristan.”

[fyeahwonderbat]

In the Middle of a Broken Constellation - PT. 12

Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: T / 14A Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice Previous Chapter: <- Chapter 11 

It had taken such an exorbitant amount of time for Diana to return to Wayne Tower after the accident. Even as a superhero who helped clean up the destruction of villains weekly, she felt absolutely drained by the time she had been examined by the EMTs, interviewed by the press and officially released from Gotham General. They hailed her as a medical marvel because she was able to escape the monsters without being engulfed in their sludge, but she tried to push the responsibility of her survival onto Superman as much as she could so that they wouldn't continue pestering her about staying overnight.

Her first day on the job for Lucius was an absolute disaster, without a doubt.

The only silver lining she could think of as she rode the elevator to the thirty-fourth floor was that it had been her who was trapped in the Isolation Ward, not a civilian. If someone from Wayne Enterprises had to make that trip again, she'd gladly take their place. Her metahuman gifts were rendered useless by her circumstances but her instincts from battles over the years were the only reason she was still herself. It was frightening to even imagine herself being consumed by that sludge and… losing herself without any way to return to who she was.

Looking down at her hands, she curled them in towards her palms just to experience the movement and know she had control over herself. To think of the fifty or so innocent lives there were being held captive at that hospital made her stomach drop. What was it like for them beneath that liquified state? Were the aware of all that their bodies were doing or were they all mindlessly wasting away? She couldn't allow the number of monsters to rise, in any of the three cities that were affected by the sludge. Today had been terrifying but she knew she couldn't blame them for reacting to her the way that they had-

Because she realized, the person to blame would have been whoever had unlocked the anteroom door.

A digital chime signaled her that she had reached the thirty-fourth floor and in a moment of panic, she leaped out of the elevator. At that moment, it dawned on her that she hadn't prepared a story to tell her boss about the events of the day. The air of the office was hectic, focused and driven while she wandered down the hall, making her uncertainty feel like insecurity. If he didn't keep her as the Community Outreach Specialist for the Wayne Foundation, then her entire civilian identity would experience a crisis unlike any she had experienced before.

She needed to know if Lucius would tolerate her explanation, which drove her to bang rather loudly on his office door.

"Come in," her boss invited her in without looking up from his desk, distracted by something he was looking at on his computer. The door had been ajar and she expected to meet his gaze immediately. Instead, she took three steps into the room before he lifted his head. Once he did, however, he looked absolutely horrified. "Diana!"

"Mr. Fox, I apologize for being so late. I-"

She wasn't allowed to finish. Lucius reached for the intercom on his phone and nearly shouted, "Tell Bruce to come here."

The floor fell apart beneath her. At least, that was how she felt. She wanted to see her friend as much as possible - that was why she took this job and relocated herself in the first place - but it didn't bode well that the CEO was being called into a meeting with her on day one of her job. The only thing she could do was handle herself with the utmost dignity and pray that they were merely going to beg her not to sue them for emotional distress. "I wanted to return sooner, but something happened at Gotham General. There was-"

Lucius stood up from his desk and walked over to meet her face to face. He adjusted his glasses as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and his tone of voice made her think that he genuinely didn't. "I heard. We all heard about the hospital. I've been trying to call you since the story broke around noon."

"They… I lost my purse in the Isolation Ward." She explained delicately.

"Jesus Christ," He groaned as he ran his hand over his face, stressed beyond belief and most likely imagining what she went through to have sacrificed her belongings. Once his palm reached his chin, he used his other arm to gesture to one of the seats in his office. With a grateful nod, Diana began to move into the closest chair, more than ready to relax after the long day she had had.

Until a hysterical man shouted from the doorway, "She's here!?"

Hearing him stilled her, and her already weary heart managed to thump erratically in her chest. She heard Lucius call for him, but turning around and seeing Bruce after the day she had had was an unexpected godsend. The guarded man she knew looked wild when she faced him. He was clutching the door frame for dear life while his body leaned into the office, his eyes surveying her with intent and fear. The man she was used to would have known not to fret over her, yet this… forgetful version of him didn't. She didn't know how to feel about his evident concern.

"Are you all right? They said you were locked in the hospital with the monsters, we weren't sure what happened to you!" He explained his position with so much panic, it was evident that he had been fretting over her the entire day.

"I was" - as soon as she confirmed his greatest fear, Bruce entered the space and slammed the door shut so that he could hear all about the horrors she faced, uninterrupted - "but I was lucky to get out alive. Superman saved me."

Name-dropping the man from Krypton didn't seem to interest either of the men standing before her. Instead, Bruce continued to inquire about her time at Gotham General. "How did you get locked in there with them?" Preparing for her answer to bowl him over, he crossed his arms over his chest.

It was a question she didn't honestly have an answer to, it was quite easy to play the hopeless civilian. "I don't know. One minute, I am talking to Dr. Hunt about the sludge and the experiments he intends to do on them, and then suddenly, the door to their room opens. Dr. Hunt managed to escape the Isolation Ward, but I was locked in. I just assumed it was an accident with the security system."

No she didn't.

She didn't trust the hospital one bit, especially Dr. Hunt and his department.

Something wasn't right, but that was for Wonder Woman to deal with, not Diana Prince.

A chuckle drew her attention away from Bruce and onto Lucius. "I'm calling them now." He informed both of them without any humor in his voice at all as he returned to his seat behind the desk and picked up his phone.

If she hadn't fought for her life, she might have felt sorry for sending her boss after the hospital. If she hadn't nearly been consumed by sludge, she could have thought to ask Lucius to let it go and to not let it impact the Wayne Foundation's relationship with Gotham General. But it was because of a malfunction in their security system or, quite possibly, the horrendous intentions of someone employed there that she was put in harm's way.

In all honesty, she just as grateful for Mr. Fox's superpower as she was for Clark's.

"Diana," The sound of Bruce softly saying her name made her face him in her chair. "Did they make sure you were okay before letting you go?" He looked as if he was trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely gutted over what she went through, but failing miserably to do so. Did someone he remembered in his amnesiac get taken over by the sludge, and it caused him to fear it? It was possible, she realized, that there was a person or persons of interest in his life that might have been one of the people who was trapped in that Isolation Ward at that very moment.

She felt swayed by his worry in a way she didn't quite understand. "Yes, that's what took me so long to come back here."

"You should have just gone home. Given us a call and taken a sick day." Advised Bruce as he threw his hands up in the air before dropping into the seat next to her. He couldn't believe her determination to return to the office was real, it seemed.

All she could do was smile weakly at him. "I was telling Lucius that I lost my purse trying to survive in there, along with my shoes."

Together, they looked down at her feet, donning a sleek pair of black flats that she kept in her trunk in case of an emergency.

She found them amusing, but Bruce did not. She watched his hunched over body remain still as he observed her shoes with what she could only imagine to be a sorrowful expression. He didn't know what she was capable of, only that she had been through an ordeal on her first site visit in her new role at his company. Despite his attempt to draw himself upwards and pretend that he hadn't been staring at her shoes for much longer than necessary, it was evident that he was unaware of how to handle this situation, of his employee nearly being taken over by the very sludge his company was hoping to help eradicate.

The Batman might have offered an emotionless congratulations and expected her back at work the next day.

That's what she expected from herself, as well.

The Bruce Wayne sitting before her had everything that Batman did except the experience on how to expect the unexpected and handle the aftermath.

It was with a melancholic smile that she said to him softly, "Don't worry, I won't be asking for an advance on my pay to replace my belongings."

Using money in a comedic way seemed to reach him. Bruce chuckled and found the strength to meet her eyes again. "Well, don't you worry, because we're going to."

"Oh," Diana's brows furrowed as she processed his words. "I really don't need you to do that, Mr. Wayne."

It was definitely subtle, though he tried to stop himself halfway through, Bruce did indeed shrug off her rejection of his offer. "You just moved to this city - one of the most dangerous in all of America, no, in all of the world - and were nearly turned into pink slime on your first day on the job. You haven't made any demands of me or Gotham General to cover your hospital bills or your lost possessions?"

She couldn't tell if he was genuinely suspicious of her, but his pointed gaze terrified her. Was he assuming that there was a reason as to why she was handling everything so well? It made her think of Clark's suggestion that she swoon over him when he flew her down to the ground outside of the hospital - was she not playing the part of a normal, depowered woman as well as she thought? It was never so difficult to blend in with society before, and yet, it felt like Bruce was examining her the way he used to.

The way he would whenever he distrusted her and wanted to see what she had to hide.

Diana collected herself rather quickly, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then took another stab at being a regular woman. "Well, I wouldn't turn down a company car so I can drive myself home, then go out and replace my phone and car keys."

"Your car keys…" Bruce repeated her with shock lacing his words, then he made a rather sour face. "No, here's a better idea. Tomorrow, when you come in, we'll sit down and fill out your report about the incident at Gotham General together. Then, I will take you to replace your shoes, your purse, your phone and your car keys all on the company dime."

"Mr. Wayne-" On the outside, she looked shocked. On the inside, she was boiling. Who was he to take on the role of a dictator, simply because she was a woman without access to her car? It made absolutely no sense for him to take over her life and her career in such a domineering way, especially when he didn't know her well enough to guarantee she would tolerate it.

Regardless, Bruce didn't care. "I just so happen to have the afternoon off, so you'll start at 11:30 and spend the rest of your day with me. I'll teach you more about the company while we take care of your belongings on the Wayne Corporation's dime, and then after that, you'll return to work as… well, not usual. But you know what I mean."

His tone of voice, his commanding air, and his almighty decrees wore down her ability to play the part of the distressed victim. It felt insulting to pretend that he could talk to her like that. The Amazonian blood pumping through her veins refused to allow that kind of talk, and the Lasso of Truth that was still hidden in her brassiere felt warm against her chest as she looked him dead in the eye. Bravely, she sat up tall and straightened her skirt as she proclaimed, "I don't mind giving you my report, Mr. Wayne, but I'm not looking for money."

Without missing a beat, or perhaps while stamping his mark on the end of hers, Bruce blurted out, "Then what are you looking for?"

There was a twitch in the corner of her lips, urging her to make a willful retort. However, it slowly washed over her that the energy between them was shifting. His words echoed in her mind, playing over and over again until she heard the second meaning that was hidden behind the veil of their conversation. It occurred to her that he was right: wasn't she looking for him? Her entire goal was to find him, watch over him, and take care of him until they found him a cure. That was her mission and the attack she had endured that morning was proof that she had taken on the most important role.

She had spent a month wishing she could look for him, and now here he was.

But why did she feel that question in the depths of her heart?

What was she still looking for?

"...Yes, hello. I'd like to speak to Mr. Hunt please." Lucius suddenly spoke into his phone for the first time since promising he'd call Gotham General. When his voice broke through the silence, Diana understood in that very moment that he must have heard their entire conversation.

That knowledge made her cheeks feel warm, but she couldn't fathom as to why. All she knew was that she was locked into a staring contest with the one and only Bruce Wayne. His confidence in this state was something she had seen before but had never felt in full effect, and it made her both excited to work alongside him once again while equally anxious for what tomorrow would bring them.

[stusbunker]

Questions: When?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 8, Ends in Season 9

Chapter 2 of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me on the backstories, now we’ll get to more meaty stuff. This is right as Y/N visits the Bunker for the first time. Basically Sam’s perspective this time. Some dialogue taken from the show. Also, this gif makes me want to cry. Thank you @spndaily for this gem!

Remember a comment or a reblog goes a LONG way. xoxo Stu

Warnings: Mentions of Amelia, lots of angst, Trials!Sam, Gadreel!Sam

Sam was grasping at straws, trying to stay upright from the toll of the trials. What he wanted to know above all else was; when all was said and done, would it be enough?

It had been a long time since Sam had felt like he had a place to sit back and relax with friends. Bobby had been family and his place was more of a library overflowing a bachelor pad than a place for entertaining. Having Y/N spend time with him and Dean at the Bunker felt good, after he got over the general uncertainty of seeing her again. Dean and he seemed to be back on track, after the first trial and settling into the Bunker, their year apart truly started to fade.

What hadn’t faded, was the feelings he had for Amelia. With Y/N around, another woman who he wouldn’t admit he was attracted to, the ache of leaving Amelia behind resurfaced. She was better off without him, the truth did little to help it from eating him from the inside out. Dean had finished giving Y/N the tour of the areas they had pilfered, knowing that there was still a lot of ground to cover.

“Some place you got here,” she seemed genuinely impressed, smiling easily at Sam as he was perched over a tower of open books. The Men of Letters’ library was immense and he felt compelled to keep reading and discovering. But Y/N tended to draw his eyes from the books a little too easily.

“I know, each day I find more things we didn’t know.” Sam exhaled.

“Looks like you’ll have your research itch scratched for a good long while,” Y/N stood with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, one leg bent making her hips swell and her backside more noticeable.

Just then Dean appeared with beer for everyone, “What’d I tell you? Nerdgasming over the library.”

Y/N chuckled at Dean’s jab, but she softened at Sam’s bewilderment. “I think it’s smart, knowledge is power right?”

“Thank you.” Sam said, looking pointedly at Dean. Dean waved him off as he finally strode over with the beer for Sam.

“So, Garth has been pretty tight lipped about you guys. What gives?” Y/N slowly began to pry their situation with Kevin Tran and the Demon Tablet out of the brothers’ mouths. By the time she had wrapped her head around everything, it was time for a food run, Dean volunteered and neither Sam nor Y/N protested.

Twenty minutes later and Sam was oddly aware of Y/N’s perfume on the air. She sat across from him, scanning through the titles he had before him on one of the massive tables. “What?” Sam huffed, slightly amused at how she looked like she had gotten caught snooping.

“You would have made some lawyer, Winchester,” she shrugged, taking a long pull off her beer. Her lips pressed against the cold glass. “I can’t stand to read more than the job requires, and here you are completely content. Or as close as our kind gets to content.”

Sam’s jaw jutted out, shrugging he pondered, “Maybe I’m just curious. Besides, like you said, the more I know, the better prepared I am for whatever the next trial is.”

Her face shifted, her eyes flashing with understanding. She didn’t ask anymore questions, yet Sam cleared his throat trying to get back to the entry he had been reading about demon possession during the Salem Witch trials. A feeling tickled the back of his neck, like being caught shirtless on an autumn night. She had found a chink in his emotional armor, one he couldn’t even locate.

***

The trials had been his only tangible thought for weeks, his body slowly slipping away from him. Sam Winchester had done many things in his thirty years, but quitting wasn’t one of them. Every muscle protested as he stood to head back to the library. He felt the floor shift beneath his boots like wet sand, the walls spiraling like a fun house tube. Slowly he fought to remain upright and into the solid foundation of the wood framed chair.

The only thing that made it worse was Dean’s constant doubts, the subtle glances and the outright challenges, all chipping at and fueling his resolve in varying measure. With Benny gone and Kevin in the wind, the pressure he felt to keep on chugging along was all that made sense. Y/N had left after only a few days at the Bunker, claiming she got stir crazy and finding herself a case in Colorado. Sam didn’t know why he kept checking his phone. Dean was with Charlie and he was benched.

He went back to the shooting range; he hated being left behind. That old nagging sensation of being the burden and not old/big/capable enough resurfaced after so many years, did not quell the Winchester stubbornness. When all was cleaned up after the Djinn family, Sam felt guilty because he had screwed up. Yet, Dean hadn’t fought him, he had hugged him. Maybe what he saw in the dream was worse than Sam imagined, maybe Charlie was a good influence on his brother. Sam wasn’t certain of anything anymore.

***

A month later

“Easy, Y/N,” Sam turned to look for Dean’s support. Dean played it cool, refusing to cast his line into the building tide.

“Excuse me?! Look at you, you are clearly not right in the head,” he hadn’t seen her this angry before. It was infuriating to be belittled while trying to make a point. He bit back his spite and listened as she continued to rant. “Besides, since when has it ever been a good idea to keep a demon in your basement?!”

“Crowley may be a douche bag, but we’ve got him locked down. Unless you don’t trust me either?” Dean finally backed him up. Sam shrugged, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. She looked at his brother and then back at Sam, eyeing him suspiciously. He felt like he was being sized up and unconsciously straightened his back. He had a foot on her and she remained unimpressed.

“I cannot believe you two! You left the door open for these assholes and then decide to shack up while the world is stuck swallowing Angels. I show up to find a scared shitless honor student and now this.”

Kevin murmured from the corner, causing Dean and Sam to bark, “Shut up, Kevin!” in unison. She stared at the high ceiling of the map room and huffed. Sam knew she wasn’t going to back down from this, but, for now, it was for the best.

“Listen, you can stay and help us with the Angel problem or you can go about your business.” Dean was done arguing, he kept glancing at Sam like he was expecting him to pass out or be sick. Sam rolled his eyes and continued trying to persuade Y/N.

“Look, if we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he has topside. We can hunt them down. All of them.” Sam could sense her calming down, despite the glare he was getting.

“He will break, okay? And when he does, we’ll hold him down while the kid knives him. Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers.” Dean was really selling it now. Y/N cracked a smile and rolled her eyes at his brother’s cheek.

“Just stay away from him. Both of you.” Sam emphasized to both Y/N and Kevin.

“So now what?” Kevin asked, sensing the argument had dropped off. The hunters got to work, leaving the prophet to keep decoding. The bunker was oddly full and Sam felt better for the first time in a long time.

***

A month later

“So I know why you’re keeping little Kevin around, reads above his grade level and all. But why exactly is she still here, Moose?” Crowley was growing bored and enjoyed getting under Sam’s skin more than anything. “I mean, she’s probably a decent hunter, but rather abrasive isn’t she?”

Sam cocked his head and looked Crowley in his greedy dark eyes, “I’d love to see you say that to her face.”

“I might have, in not so many words. Why do you think I have been hollering all morning. She started waterboarding me.” Crowley croaked indignantly. Sam raised his eyebrows, looking at the small patch of water that drained from the center of the devil’s trap.

“Sure.” Sam turned to leave.

“She fancies you, you know. Somebody like her doesn’t stay in one place this long if there isn’t a reason. Should probably let her down easy, yeah? Guy like you tends to, uh, I don’t mean to be indelicate. But are your nethers cursed? Because---”

Sam realized he had frozen in place, listening to the drivel spew from the former King of Hell’s mouth. His chest tightened and he let out the breath he had been holding. He stepped through the first wall and sealed the demon behind him. Letting Crowley rot in his taunts.

***

After First Born

“All I know is Dean came in asking about putting ear muffs on the possessing angels. So Kevin and I got to work.” She explained, the loss of trust in her eyes hurt him deeply, but he swallowed and let her continue.

“As soon as the sigils were up, Kevin asked Dean what was really going on. We were in the library and there was shouting from the store room. I figured it was just Dean’s temper catching up with how long you were gone, but then you came out, cool as a cucumber.” Y/N flinched, shaking her head as if evening out a scale. “Well, the other you. I don’t even remember what he said before, before firebombing Kevin’s insides.”

Sam sniffled as she held herself, the images scorched inside her memory, causing her to close her eyes.

“I just can’t stay here after, that,” Y/N whispered. “Castiel is going after Metatron, which is great. But I can’t be here alone, not with you. Maybe if Dean gets back and you guys figure some of this out--”

“Could you trust me again?” Sam’s voice hitched, trying not to let the weakness from the failed spell seep into his words.

“I would need to trust both of you, again. After Dean did that to you, you of all people. How do I know I am safe with either of you?”

She finally looked at him, her eyes pained and fearful, two things he would fight to never see on her face ever again. He wanted to retch, to shake the sense into her. But his hands had killed Kevin and he wouldn’t lift them to her, not now. Not ever. She double checked her pack and that her phone was charged. He stared mindlessly at his computer screen as she climbed the metal staircase. He let it all out once the heavy door fell back into place high above him. If those Bunker walls could talk. Pain would be their first language.

Chapter 3: Why?

@dontshootmespence @madlu45 @because-imma-lady-assface @ericaprice2008

[xmimiteh]

How to RP with Mimi

As I am putting myself as a roleplayer more and more out there and I even started to make some connections (yay, me!), I wanted to reblog a text I wrote a while ago about what to expect from me in roleplaying and what to do and not do. I altered it a little, so it is basically not the same text, but ... more or less. My “Dos and Don’ts” do not change that much anymore. I am probably to old for that by now.

Whenever you see me with the RP tag before my name, I am free to approach in RP. Maybe I am questing, maybe I am running, but I am always in for RP as long as this is marked before my name.

Also:  If you want to look into Mimi’s Wiki, you are going to find it >here<. But it is still a work in progress.  More detailed information is under the cut, because it is a rather lengthy text.

European Timezone: During the week usually from 8 pm to 11 pm (CEST) - on the weekend and holidays more flexible and erratic. Of course, if you are from another timezone, feel free to approach me if my time schedule fits in any way. This is just a heads up, when I am usually active - not a “I only want to play with Europeans”. I play with everyone.

I might reblog or repost the following text from time to time, because this is really important to me when going into RP.

It is important to find people who click with you and who accept your do’s and don’ts. But first you have to voice those. As I have been burned the past years, because people did not respect my limits, from now on I want to be really transparent in this. So in the end nobody can say: “I did not know that.” Now you know!

I have been avoiding RP for more or less over a year (with little exceptions), because people violated those things and with “violated” I mean even though I told them all this they acted as if they did not know it or as if it was not important. As I am a very harmony-driven person and I do not want to cause stress I tend to compromise - even though I do not want to compromise. But I this is about change, because it is not healthy.

So … you do not have to read all of these. I marked the important passages with “bold” and the rest there is mostly for explanation if you are interested in it. Maybe it is helpful for some who want to RP with me. It is an easy way to know what to expect and what not to expect. It saves a lot of trouble for both sides.

Dos and Don’ts

Just jump into RP with me if you want to RP with me! Please do not send me an OOC tell beforehand asking whether I want to RP or not. If there is the RP tag in my name, I am ready to RP. I get nervous when you send me an OOC tell about that. Just approach me in character and everything is fine. Please no “Do you want to RP?”. If there is a tag, I want to. If you ask me beforehand, I might and probably will say “no”. If you give me the opportunity I might shy away. Just jumping into RP with me even works when there is no RP tag. Do not worry whether I want to RP or not, just do it.

I am a casual roleplayer. This means for me I enjoy roleplaying a lot. I usually do not roleplay on a daily basis. It might happen from time to time, but do not expect me to. There may be longer times when I do not feel like roleplaying or rather go into a dungeon or make my hunts or just do silly stuff or screenshots etc. This has nothing to do with you. This is me. My daily roleplaying times are over more or less. Also I like to play PvE and PvP a lot. As my time is limited (I have got a full time job, I am married and I also play other games) I have to balance all of this. Please keep this in mind. RP is not my main priority and this is nothing personal. Do not make it into something personal. It is not. Plain and simple.

OOC communication is important, but I do like to keep it as little as possible. If there is an OOC problem, then … sure, send me a tell. Good RP needs good OOC communication, but not constantly. I do not like to talk about our RP (if there is no need to), I want to RP. Usually talking and planning what our character might do takes a lot of fun out of the RP for me. Just play it. Do not talk about it. I love the uncertainty and vagueness of not knowing where the RP is heading and people tend telling too many things they plan on doing.Please do not take surprises away from me. But /tell me if there is any ooc problem we need to discuss.

I am a non-native roleplayer. Please always keep in mind: English is not my native language. This might lead to misunderstandings or me taking a bit longer to answer. Also I am very self-conscious about my English and usually this leads to me being not happy with my writing style as I am a professional writer in my mother language. Thus I am very aware of these things and might be little bit touchy about it. I know my flaws and that I might construct absurd sentences or use the same words too often. I try to do it otherwise, but… it happens.

There is one thing I really do not like: RP appointments or RP by schedule. Sometimes there is no way around it and if I need to coordinate with a group or so, then it is totally okay. Do not get me wrong: I make appointments and I attend to them. But I had many a RP burn-out, because of RP appointments. They exhaust me way quicker than they used to thanks to absurd expectations of my guild members when I was guild leader of an RP guild and also because of emotional abusive rp relationships. So I try to stay away from them in the future even more. For me the ideal situation is: 75% open RP, 15% events, 10% appointments. These are no fixed numbers - just an approximation. I prefer open world RP and I like my RP being spontaneous und surprising.

I am an introvert (OOC). This means I usually do not do small talk. It drains me. There are only a few people who do not drain me and it is no problem if you are not one of those people. It has nothing to do with you. If I play with you I like you. This also does not mean I do not like to talk and it does not mean I do not like people. Quite the contrary. There are times when I am rambling on and on, sure. But this is not the default. Please never ever ask me “how are you doing”. I really hate that question. If there is something you want to discuss, sure thing, shoot. You can be very frank and direct with me and do not need to make any small talk before that. I even appreciate it if you get straight to the point. I do not enjoy OOC small talk. IC small talk is a completely different thing on the other hand - yes, I am weird like that.

I like to play in /say per default. Please no RP per default in /party or /tell.  Because of past bad experience I try to keep as little RP in /party and /tell as possible, because it can be abused too easily. I want the possibility of people spontaneously joining our RP. Sometimes there is no way around /party and /tell. So I do not mind the occassional RP in /party or /tell or you whispering me IC in /tell if your characters whispers to mine. But if your RP needs to be per default in /party or /tell then there is a big chance you are looking for something completely different than me and please look somewhere else for it. Save us both the time.

Because of said bad experiences I am very cautious if people get too clingy. I am no one’s possession and no one has exclusive rights to RP with me - even if our characters are in a relationship! This is so important and I cannot stress this enough! If I ever feel like I get isolated OOC or someone gets too clingy or possessive, we have a problem and I plan on solving this by radically dropping said RP. This is nothing I ever want to go through again. Been there, endured that. Never again! This is a real trigger to me and freaks me out completely. So, no exclusive RP!

I am no plot player. I am a character focused player with a main interest in IC conflict and spontaneous RP and I like deep immersion. I enjoy slice of life and well paced character drama without any planned plot. There have been plenty of people who said: “No, but my plots are different! You have to try!” No. Sadly, 99% they were not different. Not at all.If character play leads to a plot, it is okay. But do not expect me to play accordingly to any script or follow any plot. I am still going to play my character no matter the plot. Best RP for me develops in a dynamic between two or more characters. My ideal plot arises out of the character interactions - completely unplanned and spontaneous. This is not how most people in rp communities seem to define plot, so I distance myself from that term very much. For me plot is a stage for character interactions. Not vice versa.

My characters are not always likeable and they are far from perfect. They are going to do stupid things. They are going to be a douchebag. And they are more often wrong than not. I like the conflict and the interactions arising out of this and the dynamic this creates. Please do not make this into something personal OOC. I like to play a flawed character and I love IC conflict and this is why most of my characters are quarrelsome or prejudiced. I am not my character so if they insult or provoke your character this is character play - not me being mean to you as a player.

I prefer roleplaying in the game. I used to play a lot of forum RP, but my main focus has always been in game. RP outside of the game can be a nice addition, but it should not be the focus to me. Especially as I do not like playing in multiple timelines. I prefer roleplaying in “real-time” - meaning: a day in RL is a day in the game. I do not see this too strictly and usually try to leave exact time measurements out of roleplaying and keep it as vague as possible. Better leave concrete times out of RP. Also I love RP letters, but since Mimi is illiterate and the game does not encourage sending letters to non-friends this might tend to become difficult. But if you want, send me an IC letter on tumblr and tag me. This might also be interesting when engaging with other characters of mine. Or whisper me in game, so we can put each other on the friend list and you can send me IC letters.

Do not force me to praise your RP. I am no cheerleader. I have been in several RP relationships in which I had to say after each RP session every single time how great it was. And no, it was not always great. And you know what? That is okay! Nobody plays perfect everyday. Yes, sometimes I might be bored, but that is okay, too. Praising someone’s RP everytime devalues that praise. I want to preserve the value of a compliment by not overusing it. Not every RP has to be awesome and extraordinary everyday and that is fine! People who feel like RP always has to be extraordinary, probably do not click with me, because that is not how I work. I cannot keep up to that standard, because I suck sometimes. It puts such a big pressure into roleplaying and this takes the fun out of it for me.

I like to describe my preferred RP with tv shows. As I love those and regularly watch them this is also something I like to go for and I think it is a good orientation for other people what to expect and what not. So here are the series I like to go for with my RP: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Firefly, Dawson’s Creek, Babylon 5, Fringe. I also adore the character drama of Game of Thrones and though some nudity is okay this is a series I like to mention because of the character drama and the intense interaction, not because of the smut! This is why GoT will not get a bold name so people will not get the wrong idea. Though R rating is okay I am not here for the smut. Usually I like to fade to black unless it is important for character development. Yet most of the time it is going to be PG-13. As I am German and feel more comfortable with our rating system, if you know what FSK16 means you probably got it right.

I am not going to discuss any of my RP preferences. I do not force people in playing with me and if you like any of the things I just said I do not like - more power to you. I do not want to stop you from playing these things. But please without me. I have been a roleplayer now for about more than 25 years and I am very conscious about what I like and what I do not like and with what I got problems. All the times I deviated from my preferences and agreed to a compromise have been a disaster for me. I am rather tolerant and I do not interfere with other people’s RP as long as they do not force anything onto me I do not like. In this I try to be honest, polite, but firm and outspoken. I will never RP police you on the things above as long as you do not force them onto me. Live and let live. If you like those things above, but want to play with me nevertheless and do not impose them on me, be my guest and approach me. But please do not try to convince me of the things I do not like. It never worked. Really. Never. I tried. Honestly. More than once. So no discussion. Sorry.

Advice cut in short: Give me freedom and I am a truly loyal and dependable player. Lock me in a cage and I will fly away as soon as I get the chance to - even if I have to blast open the cage door.

Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with anyone in the FF14 community. Actually these are things I have encountered before entering FF14 and because of these bad experiences I try to be super cautious and have been staying out of RP for a long, long time. By making these caveats public I am trying to protect myself and just trying to be honest and fair about it all. There is nothing worse for fun in RP than wrong expectations of your RP partner.

I hope this does not sound too intimidating. I also do not want to sound too complicated, but I just want to be very transparent on how I like to play. So if you ever see me and the RP in front of my name, just open the RP fire and I am going to respond. If I ever do not respond, feel free to send me a tell, because then I might have overlooked it or maybe was afk.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Questions

I had a prompt from @white-throated-packrat quite a while ago for an SGU fic in which Camille became a sort of mother and mentor figure to the queer community on Destiny, and I left it alone for a long while as I wanted to do it justice. It turned into more of a character introspective than a fic, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

Rated: G

=====

Questions

If there's one thing that Camille has realised as an openly homosexual woman, it's that the questions will never end. The very fact of being lesbian seems to open itself up to all kinds of questions, from the innocent to the offensive. She knows that until the world changes, she's likely never to be free of these questions. Even in changing times, with increased visibility of various minority groups, she's still going to get asked questions about her sexual orientation. Sometimes these questions come from a place of genuine ignorance, because education has not moved on anywhere near as quickly as the times around them have. In these cases, Camille tries to be patient, not to chastise people for the things they do not yet know, and to educate as best she can. If they still don't see things in a reasonable light or see that their words could be better chosen, then that's on them, not her. Sometimes the questions come from a place of malice, where it's clear that the person speaking to her is looking for a fight and looking for a rise. She doesn't give them the satisfaction of knowing that they've got under her skin. She hurts and bleeds just as much as the next person, but she feels that her armour must be thicker, stronger, and she cannot sink to their level of petty, hurtful words. She ignores the hatred and the bigotry directed towards her and holds her head high, and she cries to Sharon when she gets home to the safe space that they have created for themselves. It's draining sometimes, but she's lived through it for a long time and she will keep living through it.

Then sometimes, there are the questions that are a plea for help or advice, however nervous they might be and however veiled in other layers of questions they might be asked. These questions, Camille will always answer. In her position in human resources, she has come across these questions increasingly frequently, and she always strives to do as much as she can for these people. If they are coming to her, she reasons, then they probably don't have anywhere else to go.

Camille's never had a huge desire to be a mother, but with these people - of all ages and genders - who are coming to her for advice, she does feel a certain protectiveness, like the mother hen watching over her chicks, and it's something that stays with her for a long time.

Her first experience of it comes on Icarus, really. A young sergeant approaches her with a certain degree of unsureness not usually displayed by the military. But part of Camille's job is to set people at ease, so she smiles and asks open questions as she thinks she knows what this particular consultation is really about. And little by little, she draws out what really underlies their problem. By the end of their discussion, the sergeant is smiling, and Camille feels a definite sense of pride and community in having been able to share her own experience and provide the reassurance and support that is needed. The next time she visits earth, she tells Sharon about it. Mentioning no names, of course, HR confidentiality, but the sense of protectiveness remains with her and she's already formulating ideas in her mind, more structured ways in which she can help once she gets back to earth on a permanent basis. Putting resources in place so that people can access what they need instead of feeling that they have to hunt her down and ask her furtively.

But Camille never makes it back to earth on a permanent basis. At least, it doesn't look like she's going to. On one of her visits home with the stones, awkward in an unfamiliar body, she shares her disappointment with Sharon that her nebulous plans will likely never come into fruition. The IOA and Stargate Command have far more important things to spend their time, money and energy on than helping the LGBT community within their own organisations. To be fair, when surviving on Destiny is sometimes an hourly challenge, it's not something that's at the forefront of Camille's mind most of the time. But it's always there below the surface, that protectiveness. Naturally sexual orientation isn't something that's recorded in personnel files, but it's something that comes out over time as the stranded survivors get to know each other a little better. People miss their loved ones; the distance and uncertainty prove too much for some relationships, and new ones are formed on board their home. And just like on Icarus, Camille finds that she is the person that her queer brothers and sisters come to first for advice and help, even if she is not ordinarily part of their friendship group. There's a new group forming, a community within a community with Camille as its unofficial leader. It's a position she never intended to hold, but it's one that she doesn't mind now that it's fallen into her lap. Just like before, she feels protective of these little chicks, but more than that. She wants to help them build confidence in their own identities so that they can spread their wings with ease. She loves to help them, but what a beautiful world it would be where she doesn't have to because the prejudices that cause that need have been broken down.

That is one thing that can be said for living in such a small and isolated community all the time. With everyone in such close quarters being forced to get along all the time, perceptions can change and people can soften. The sense of friendship will grow over time, and so will acceptance. Their microcosmic society is in no way perfect and there will always be conflict with so many strong personalities clashing over what seems like every single decision, but it's a good starting point. And then, purely by accident, they get the chance to start their own society. There on Novus, they start completely from scratch. It is hard. Very hard. This is perhaps the hardest thing that they have ever done between them, because this is it, there is nothing else that they can do except live. The sense of community that was created on the ship becomes ever stronger because they are truly on their own now with no help from the outside world.

And now more than ever, relationships form, and new generations are born.

Despite their small community and their closeness to each other, Camille finds that she still, even years down the line, receives those questions, those veiled pleas for help. They no longer come from her own generation now, but from the ones that come after her. Everyone knows her as the matriarch of their community, single and solitary, having accepted the loss of the love of her life and having no desire to move on and find another one. It was a done deal long ago for her, and she's content to remain alone. Not lonely; she's never lonely in their little community. But she doesn't feel the need to pair up again, like it seems that everyone else is doing. But although she comes to be seen as the matriarch of their society in general, she is even more of a mother figure to the growing queer community. Sons and daughters come to her with their problems, because even though Camille knows that their own parents would be perfectly accepting of them - they have all lived together and got to know each other well enough by now for her to be sure of that - it is still sometimes easier to get advice from someone who knows, someone who is a member of that community themselves.

Camille can't answer every question, because she can only speak from her own experience. She has no tailored advice for the asexual people, the non-binary people. But she understands their fears and their confusions and their questions, and she can provide them with the compassion and the listening ear that they need in that moment, even if she cannot provide help. And sometimes, that's really all they need. And for the cases that she can't help, she helps them to help themselves as best they can. There are no other resources available for them, she can't send them to someone else who could perhaps help them better with more relevant experiences. But she enlists the help of the members of her own generation, and together they create a framework that will hold and grow. Camille no longer feels worried about what will happen to her community once she is no longer a part of it. There is structure and resilience now, the way it should be, and the lessons and advice that she has always given to her little chicks will not die with her, they will continue to thrive and help others. A legacy of the very best kind, she feels.

On Destiny, Camille reviews the videos that her other self made on Novus, and listens to herself talking about the people she has become so passionately protective of. For a long time she can't speak, she just sits there staring at the paused video, thinking about everything that she's heard. For someone who never intended to become a mother, she has ended up with so many people looking to her for advice, and she really couldn't be happier about it.

She smiles and shuts down the video, leaving to go about her daily tasks, determined that she will still keep answering questions for her little chicks for as long as she possibly can.

[phanboyo]

GIW drabble?

Agent K stared into the empty blackness of his coffee. It was a rare thing for an agent to drink coffee, especially black (after all, getting coffee stains out of white worsted was a nightmare), but he had had a long 46 hours and he could use a good strong cup to stare into. His mind didn't know what to make of what he'd seen and the bitter earthy scent had always helped him make sense of things.

He remembered when he got this job; only a year and a half ago but it felt like decades. They'd approached him the on the very same day he'd been released from military service, like they had been eagerly waiting for his time to be up. Of course he'd accepted their offer, with a 500k salary and nowhere else to go, it seemed too good to be true. He took a sip of coffee and wondered if it really wasn't.

He didn't really believe in ghosts before he'd taken the job. Sure, he'd entertained the idea, but he'd figured ghost hunting was best left to TV and tinfoil hats. Even after he'd gotten the job, their work seemed conspiratorial and relatively unrelated to ghosts: investigating the Bermuda triangle, strange disappearances, supposed "possessions" that had never actually turned up any proof of "ecto-entities."

Then he was called to Amity Park. To say there was a change in attitude would be an understatement. He was no longer chasing after superstitions, he was encountering and capturing actual, dangerous creatures. At first he thought it was a hoax, a lie, a strange joke of some sort, but then Agent N had been nearly killed by one of them, and suddenly it had all become real. They had told him the job would be dangerous, but he didn't believe it until then.

He'd watched ghosts destroy property, kill and injure innocents, steal and scare and possess, and with the white-clad voices in his ear calling the inhuman beasts evil, it wasn't difficult to come to the same conclusion. In fact, quite hard not to.

Agent K had a niece. Jaime. That's who he saw when a girl was nearly crushed by the falling debris of a building blasted to pieces by local ghost hunters after their newest target. They were reckless, too blinded in their attempts of capture to see that they were doing more harm than good. The girl had only lived because the very ghost they were after threw himself back into harm's way to save her, getting nothing in return but a sizzling new burn across his back.

Agent K rubbed the side of his mug, now cold. He had tried to figure out why an evil creature would do such a thing, but kept coming to the same conclusion, one he'd been told repeatedly was illogical and impossible. Ghosts couldn't be so altruistic, and yet...

Agent K stared into the blackness of his half empty mug. He had been wrong before. He had never believed in ghosts before. Now their very real existence was plaguing his every waking hour. Now he couldn't help seeing a teenager too brave for his own good in place of a fearsome and powerful ecto-entity. He couldn't help seeing himself and the rest of the GIW in place of those blinded reckless ghost hunters. He couldn't help seeing fear instead of manipulation on the faces of those they had captured. He couldn't help seeing multifaceted people instead of single-minded creatures. Most of all, he couldn't help the knot of dread, guilt, and uncertainty churning in his stomach.

Agent K took a deep breath. He stood and poured his cold coffee down the drain, careful not to let a single splashing drop stain the cuff of his immaculate white sleeve. He grabbed his blaster as the details of a new report came in over his earpiece. He'd get another cup of coffee later, black as night and bitter as sorrow when he came back. For now he had a job to do.

[hotcocosharing]

Second Chance Part 19 (IM RP)

OC- Midori Katayani ❣ Canon- Shunichiro Tachibana

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

WARNING- Swearing

Shunichiro Tachibana

Funny how my sharp mind go on functioning at 4.33 in the morning but I could not hold the remark snapping back inside my hectic head at every sentence Midori says-

“…..I’m exhausted” - No shit, so am I!

“….. I want us to stop playing games” - She IS THE ONE who keeps sending me the misleading signals!

“…. You know how I feel and that’s not going to change” - We are in our mid thirties, how we feel is no longer a huge part in this issue. Not that it ever was, we were crazy about each other- wasn’t it obvious? But we also DROVE each other crazy!

“….. we’ve been given a second chance it seems and I don’t want it to be thrown to waste” - Is it? Is this our second chance or some closure for mid life crisis? Cuz it sure as hell feels like it when an ex comes over at sunrise to ask me HOW I FEEL? TIRED, PLAYED, FRUSTRATED and … and HORNY AS FUCK!?

“….. what do you want to know ” - Didn’t I pour my heart out in the car? Is it really necessary to list them out again?

“….. what do you want from me? ” - She literally quotes me! Using my same question against me! And she bloody knows how much it irritates me- answering my question with another question.

THIS IS PRECISELY WHY I HATE TALKING! A never ending cycle of hell just like those pointless work meetings that only lays the problems on the table but no solution is agreed till the end apart from the complete waste of time.

“Ladies first,” I chuckle as I pour a glass of vintage brandy and place it on the coffee table. “Never answer a question with a question.” My tone serious, eyeing her as she leans forward to grab the drink, our eyes meet but I choose not to return a smile. This isn’t play time and if this IS our second (AND LAST) chance, we better sort this out before I get on my flight. (which’s in roughly 10 hours)

“I’m married to my job, are you okay with that?” My favorite sound of ice cubes clinking against the glass begin to calm my nerves at Midi’s sneaky attempt to get my thoughts first.

“What is the real issue that bothers you? Insecurity? You don’t trust me, yourself or the women around or simply the universe of unknown.” As resourceful as I am, there’s no way to beat the curse of uncertainty- I know she wouldn’t appreciate my witty remark so I keep it to myself.

"Are you in love with me or the idea of us back together? Midi, you walked out on me three years ago, you never called, texted, nothing. Knowing how stubborn you’re, I gather you must have thought it through long and hard before leaving me, before throwing our six years of relationship down the drain.” Taking a small sip of brandy, I quickly add, “I love you, Midi. We love each other and we probably always will but is our kind of love enough to resolve our problems? Are we good for each other?”

Moving across the couch, I put an arm around her shoulder in effort to let her know that I respect her decision. “What we want and what we need can be entirely different thing. Am I what you want or what you need?”

Gazing into her nearly tearful eyes, I secretly ask myself the same questions which I fear the answers of.

Midori Katayani

“Ladies first.”

There’s a quiet scoff which creeps up the back of my throat with a sensationally horrible burn which I’m able to extinguish and hush with a sip of whiskey that neutralizes the growing foul taste. I’m not quite sure that people understand how stressful it is for me to try and explain what the hell is going on inside my head when I don’t even quite understand it myself but right now – and for Shun, I’ll give it a try.

“I’m married to my job, are you okay with that?”

Do I really have a choice in the matter? I lick my lips and  half roll my eyes as a chuckle I’m not expecting that rumbles up from inside me to escape. We were together for a little over six years and not once did I ever get the hint that there would ever be a ring on my finger so am I okay with it. I answer as clearly as I can manage.

“Yes.”

That was easy – at least a lot easier than I’d expected, although not entirely prepared of the questions that flow out one after the other next hitting me like a tonne of bricks I bite my tongue – I force myself to think even though I’m well aware the answers I come up with could possibly hurt me.

“What is the real issue that bother you? Insecurity? You don’t trust me, yourself or the women around or simply the universe unknown.”

“Are you in love with me or the idea of us back together?”

“..is our kind of love enough to resolve our problems. Are we good for each other?”

“Am I what you want or what you need?”

As his arm wraps around my shoulders in what I can only assume is an attempt to both calm and belittle me, my eyes shut for a second or two at the familiarity of security and the first thing that comes to mind is how we met. How if it weren’t for that fateful day 9 years ago we both would be in completely different stages of our life today.

******

My fingers dance along the spine of books which sit high on the shelves above my head. There’s a particular one I’m looking for – a new release by my favourite author that seems to have sold out everywhere. This is the 9th book store I’ve tried today after catching buses all around town and I’m exhausted. Humming to myself, I think I’ve stumbled across the little yellow novel but just as I’m about to push myself up onto my toes and pull it down another hand beats me to it.

“Ughh—“, it’s a breathless nothingness which skims out from my lips as I turn to glance at the man who’s standing beside me with the novel that I want being flicked between his fingertips. He’s got the kind of smirk the devil would have but on an angels face and I’m intrigued immediately.

“Can I help you with something?”

I’m quick to look over my shoulder and make sure to see that he isn’t talking to someone who’s standing behind me because it’s the first time I’ve ever had a guy ask me anything. His eyes are absolutely the perfect shade of captivating and I’ve been rendered speechless. Tucking some hair behind my ear, I lick my lips and force myself to speak.

“M..Murakami..”, I stutter out, “..you’re a fan? I’ve been hunting for that book all day and –.. and.. I think you might have in your hands the last copy that exists in town.”

“Mhmm…”, he mumbles with a nod as if trying to act like he’s impressed with my blabbering stupidity and before I know it – he’s telling me to follow him to the counter. Like a puppy who’s lost their way, I do what I’m asked, thinking it’s a little absurd. Paying for the book he asks the cashier for a pen and scribbles something on the inside cover.

“Here…”, he announces handing it over, “Let me know what you think when you finish reading it.”

My heart skips a beat at the smile he shoots in my direction and I’m on cloud nine when I open the cover to see his name and number scribbled on the inside.

“Shunichiro…”, I call out as he’s about to walk away and my heart skips another beat as he turns to look my way. “It’s Midori...”, I call out as if we’re the only two right now in the world that exist, “…just in case you were wondering..”

******

A hand quickly snaking around his waist, I’m short of breath as I let myself sink into his side and feel a swarm of tears start building up to burst my way.

“Insecure? You could look up the reference in a dictionary and printed next to it would be a picture of my face. You know that I’m insecure about everything and even though I’m constantly trying my best I never think it’s good enough. I’m not good enough being myself. I’m not good enough for you. I’m not good enough compared to the strings of women who are trying to constantly lure themselves toward you and I’ve had to in the past thwack them away with a stick the size of Tokyo Tower.”

There – he knows it, I may constantly want the best but I am aware that I’m not deserving of it. I take another sip of brandy and try to remember why I left that evening – the answer though is simple. I was curious to know if he needed me as much as I needed him.

“Of course I’m stubborn – that’s a quality you brought out in me and I thought just maybe… that maybe if I left you’d chase after me”, there’s guilt to my voice as I hear my own pathetic words sink in, “That you’d want me. That you’d come and find me and I’d be reassured that I was good enough, that I was deserving of something like this but you didn’t – you didn’t do anything. I walked out that door and all that followed me was a silence which told me that you didn’t need me anymore.”

Leaning forward, I place the glass down quietly on the table and don’t bother to wipe away the tears which are starting to fall from my eyes.

“Don’t tell me you love me if you don’t really mean it. I’m sick of the l-word being thrown around as if it’s just disposable, as if I’m just disposable. I know what I want and it’s you – it’s taken me forever to realize what I let slip away and I don’t want it to happen again too. I want to be the one you think about when it starts to rain. I want to be the one who your sheets smell of. I want to be the one you call first when you’ve achieved something you’re proud of. I want to be the one who wakes up next to you and the one you roll over in the middle of the night to cuddle into. I want to be the only one who gets to love you unconditionally and I…..”

Dropping down to rest my head on Shun’s shoulder I sigh. I can’t be more honest with how I feel tonight. Fingers tickling at Shun’s sides and drawing intricate shapes of nothingness, I tense up at the idea that everything I’ve just said, everything that I’ve poured my heart into, everything that I don’t want to regret could be instantly rejected in a second or two.

“…. want that feeling back if you’ll have me.”

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

NOTES: My thoughts every time I get a respond from Pippa, HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO TOP THAT, every single time! But yet I LOVE THIS RP, it’s not about the good or bad ending they may get, it’s HOW they get there, WHAT leads them there.

If you like our rp, please comment or share, a lillie goes a long way.

[bellarkepromptfills]

they told me that the end is near

@whyclarke -- this is longer than i thought it was going to be, but shorter than i was hoping it would be. ya feel? i have an essay i should be doing #yolo #help 

a million thank yous to @bellamythology for proofreading! she’s the realest <33

for anon: A skaikru group leaves camp for whatever reason. Clarke gets badly injured, like gunshot or stab wound. She’s the only one in their group with medical training. So she looks at her options and chooses Bellamy to take care of her. Despite being in pain, she has to stay awake and guide him through the steps of keeping her alive. If you’re feeling extra pretty today make him break down once he’s done.   

[ read on ao3 ]

The problem, she knows, is the blood. 

Losing this much of it is a bad sign, as any doctor would know, but she just can’t staunch the flow. A Grounder had ambushed their hunting party and a knife was in her leg before she realized what was going on. Of course, Bellamy had come charging to her rescue like a really dirty, underdressed knight, knocking the warrior off of her, but the damage was done. Clarke knows that she should have told him what had happened, but the apocalypse is coming and they need food to feed four hundred people for five years. The party couldn’t return to Arkadia empty-handed, not when every wasted trip could mean another day without food when the death wave hit. And the Grounders were a constant threat, one magnified by the fog-cloaked forest - she wouldn’t allow her injury to get someone else hurt. 

Clarke told herself that the injury was just a scratch, and said the same to Bellamy. But… the blood. It’s an issue. Her vision is beginning to fade around the edges, and a wave of dizziness threatens to knock her on her ass every time she takes a step. The adrenaline from the battle has long since worn off, and the deep laceration in her thigh sends lances of pain down her leg with each footfall. She’s falling behind the rest of the group, too — simply walking feels like a monumental battle, although she’s far too proud to admit that the pain is too great for her to bear.

Clarke’s breath hisses through her gritted teeth as the wound is jarred, her traitorous feet having slipped on a rock dampened by the foggy spring morning, and Bellamy glances back at her. His brows knit together and his bottom lip drops with the force of his exhale, concern coloring his gaze as he examines her paling, pained plight.

“Clarke?” His voice is strained. She tries to wave him off, to tell him to keep going, but she stumbles and her vision goes white with pain.

“I’m — ach — fine. Let’s keep going,” she grunts, gingerly stepping forward. Her leg collapses immediately, yelping with pain, but Bellamy has her in his arms before she can hit the ground.

“Bellamy, you’re our best hunter. Our people need you right now… I’m okay.” It sounds weaker than she intended.

“If you think I’m going to leave you here to die, you’re wrong, princess,” he says, voice gruff, and adjusts his grip.

“Seriously, Bellamy, we need food for our people. I’m not the priority.”

Bellamy only grunts in response, his dark eyes still examining her wound.

“Jesus, Clarke — you said it was just a scratch,” he growls, but there’s no heat behind the words.

“I put my people first, Bellamy, and you should too.”

“You are my people,” he snaps. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Arkadia needs food to survive Praimfaya. We can’t go back without anything, Bellamy - you know that,” she says, wincing as a jolt of pain radiates down her leg.

The storm in his gaze dissipates until only concern remains, and he lets out a sigh that she can feel from her position cradled against his chest. “You are my people, Clarke,” he repeats, softer now, and she knows that he could never leave her. The weight of his words resonates in her chest and settles in her stomach, dulling the sharp ache in her thigh.

 “Just don’t make the rest of them stay behind. Please, Bellamy.” He examines her for a moment, dark eyes searching, and nods.

“Go ahead without us; get back to camp before nightfall,” Bellamy orders, posture straightening. The group of Arkadians begin to object, twisting back as if to try to help, but Clarke waves them off before they can offer. The movement drains her, and she feels a heavy darkness begin to press at the edges of her vision. Knowing what that darkness will bring, she shifts in Bellamy’s grip — the pain brings tears to her eyes, but it grounds her. She’s here, she’s alive, and she’s determined to stay that way.

 She’s also bleeding out, which is hindering her ability to do so.

“I think I saw a cave back there — stay with me, Clarke,” Bellamy says, noticing the way her head lolls to the side. She stares up at him with her sky-filled eyes, the dark circles that purple the skin beneath standing in stark contrast to her paling face. Her labored breath is weak and condenses in the cool air, small puffs of mist trailing behind them like contrails and intertwining with the opaque fog winding around the trees.

“Bellamy, the blood — you have to stop the blood. You’re the only one I trust to do this,” Clarke says faintly, and then her eyes roll into the back of her head. She sags in his arms, finally succumbing to the pain, and slides into unconsciousness. Swearing, Bellamy quickens his pace, one hand on her back and the other beneath her knees. He shakes her a little, his jaw clenching, but she doesn’t respond.

“Clarke, you have to stay awake. Talk to me, Clarke; tell me about what you liked to paint. Tell me about all of the reasons why we’re not working fast enough, or tell me about the benefits of allying with Roan. Tell me something, please,” he rasps. Desperation colors his voice until it wavers, until all of the authority in his tone bleeds into uncertainty and fear.

Rain begins to fall, chilly droplets pelting the pair, but Bellamy thanks whatever God there is — the cold water calls Clarke back to reality. Blearily, she opens her eyes, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. In a faraway part of his brain, he notes how small she is, so light that he’s certain that she hasn’t been eating. She starts talking to him, mumbling soft nothings that vaguely resemble a to-do list, and he tucks her closer into his chest and starts to jog.

The cave floor is mottled with damp leaves and dead things, the smell of rot permeating the cavern. Gently, Bellamy lays Clarke onto the ground, resting her head on a makeshift pillow of moss he found at the entrance of the small den. She murmurs at him faintly, telling him to stop the bleeding first, but her body shakes with cold — he knows that he needs to warm her up or gamble on her not catching pneumonia. The nearby trees are swollen with water and less than ideal for a fire, but Bellamy gathers the driest sticks he can find and quickly lights them with the pack of matches that Clarke insisted he carry. In case of emergency, she had said, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. He felt like this certainly counted as one.

“Clarke, what do I do? I’m not a doctor, I don’t know how to save you,” he implores, eyes devoid of hope. She tries to shift so that she can get a better view of him, but the wound stops her, and she bites her lip.

“Bellamy, you will be fine,” she starts, voice nearly inaudible yet soothing all the same. It’s the tone that she uses on her patients in the medbay, which she finds rather ironic, but it does the job. He takes a deep breath, loosening his shoulders, and looks at her again. “First, you need to clean the wound. Do you have any of Monty’s moonshine?”

He shakes his head for a moment, beginning to pace, but after two laps around the cavern he pauses.

“The car — the abandoned one, with whiskey in the glovebox? It’s nearby. I’ll be back,” he says, and is out of the cave before Clarke can muster up the strength to tell him to be careful.

He practically shoves the bottle at her when he comes back, allowing her to take a sip and savor the way it burns as the liquor slides down her throat; he rips her pants open just above her knee while she drinks, revealing the gore. He glances up at her again from his position at her thigh, head tilting in apology.

“I’m sorry for this, Clarke,” he warns, spilling the liquor onto the unclotted wound. She cries out, vision spotted with white as the whiskey washes out any bacteria like a tsunami inundating a village. After three broken heartbeats, it’s over, and her panting breath is the only sound save the crackling of the fire beside her.

“Okay, Bellamy, that was good. You’re doing great, okay? Now you need to place your knife in the fire, heat it up, and then cauterize the wound. We need to stop the bleeding, Bellamy,” Clarke instructs, air whistling from her grimacing teeth as she collects herself. He grabs his knife from his belt, holding it in the flames until it glows orange with heat that radiates from the weapon in waves. Wordlessly, he takes his jacket from her and rolls a sleeve into a tight cylinder, placing it in her mouth as a makeshift bit.

Wordlessly, he places the near-molten knife on her wound.

Agony, white-hot and endless, shoots from the injury up to her spine, to her brain; it feels like she’s dying. She screams past the jacket in her mouth, feeling the worn fabric tear from the force of her teeth. Her vision begins to fade as cool air kisses her wound, and she finally allows the sea of unconsciousness to wash her away. As she is pulled under by the current and the darkness fills each corner of her mind, she thinks only of him.

When she wakes up, Bellamy is crying.

They’re silent tears, of course, but she sees the way his lip trembles, watches the saltwater trail its way down his cheek and onto his thin brown tee shirt. She almost moves to wipe them away, still drunk on sleep and remnants of whiskey, but her movement draws his eye. Bellamy’s face crumples with relief, and he rushes over to where she lies.

“Clarke.” It sounds like a prayer.

“Bellamy, you saved me,” Clarke breathes. Bellamy can’t meet her eyes, exhaling softly, and he shakes his head slightly. He licks his lips a little, clearing his throat, and Clarke stills. “Bellamy?” 

“It’s just - why did you want me to do this? Why did you want me to save you? I can’t ever seem to protect you, even when it’s all I can seem to think about. You were going to die because I didn’t protect you, and I --” his voice cracks, and he gazes at something far beyond Clarke’s head; his eyes are clouded with demons of guilt and sorrow. “All I do is hurt people, Clarke. I had to hurt you, Clarke, just to save you from my mistake. I should’ve - I should’ve been there to save you from him.”

“Bellamy…” she breathes, but he turns away. “Bellamy, it wasn’t your fault. Look at me, Bellamy,” she commands, and he runs a hand through his wild curls. “You are not a monster, Bellamy. You are good, and kind, and brave; I chose you, Bellamy, because there is no one I trust more to do this for me. I need you, Bellamy. Please don’t push me away.” He’s silent for only a moment, but it feels like an eon.

“When I saw you, Clarke, barely standing and pale enough to be dead, I went out of my mind. You almost died, Clarke. I can’t - I can’t go through that again. Promise me that you’ll tell me if you’re hurt, even if you don’t want it to be a big deal.” He says quietly, but not weakly. She tries to protest, to tell him that she can bear it on her own, but he cuts her off. “Promise me.”

The raw emotion in his voice, anxiety and fear and something warm she can’t quite place, dissolves her objections into silence. He sniffs once, catching a tear with his calloused hands. It’s this that finally erodes her resolve into silt and apologies, and she sits up.

“Bellamy, I promise. I promise. I promise,” she whimpers, and throws her arms around him. The pain from her leg is present, but muted, and she places it in the back of her mind as his strong arms wrap around her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, savoring the way they fit together, and he strokes her hair in slow, comforting motions. He smells like sweat and rain and something earthy that is entirely his own; he smells like home.

The quiet is natural, but after a moment Bellamy’s voice finally resonates off of the cavern walls. 

“Clarke?” His voice wavers, and she tilts her head up at him. “Thank you. For not dying, and everything.”

Her lips curl softly; a half smile for a half joke.

She snuggles deeper into his grip; his breath warms her cheek and his fingers card through her golden hair until she closes her eyes once more. As she drifts into the soothing darkness, she thinks that she hears him whisper I love you.

[jillmckenzie1]

The Grind

We’re all scared. Can you blame us? There’s a pandemic cutting through every corner of the world. The guy who’s supposed to be in charge doesn’t appear to know what he’s doing. People are hoarding toilet paper, for God’s sake. As a species, as a country, and as individuals, we’re living in a time of great uncertainty, and it might feel like we’re going to hit bottom any minute. What are we supposed to do?

You know who knows a little something about that? Ben Affleck. It wasn’t easy for him, growing up with a father who was an alcoholic and the eventual split that took place between his parents. It wasn’t easy for him to break into Hollywood, yet both he and his childhood friend Matt Damon managed to make the dream a reality.

Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy was Affleck’s breakthrough. His co-written screenplay Good Will Hunting nabbed him an Academy Award.* For a little while there, things seemed to be perfect…until they weren’t. There were too many flops and lousy decisions, too much time in the tabloids, and too many good films that went unseen.** Even after his comeback, his successful move into directing, and another Academy Award win for Argo as Best Picture, it seemed like Affleck couldn’t catch a break.

Affleck played Batman three times. For a minute there, the plan was for him to direct, write, and star in The Batman. The only reason he didn’t put on the cape a fourth time was his own bout with alcoholism and the worry that the pressure would kill him. Every few years he’s been forced to claw his way back into the limelight and remind audiences that, along with being a kinetic director and intelligent writer, he’s an unappreciated performer. His latest film, The Way Back, reminds us of that.

You’ve seen guys like Jack Cunningham (Ben Affleck) before. You might even know them. Jack is a construction worker. He does his job adequately, is friendly enough, but there’s something off about him. Is it the occasional slurs in his speech? Could it be that his stainless-steel travel mug smells more like booze than it does coffee?

People worry about him. At a family gathering, his sister Beth (Michaela Watkins) notices that Jack spends an awful lot of time by himself. Even when he’s at the dive bar he frequents, and even when he’s yukking it up with the other regulars, Jack often seems alone. He’s been separated from his wife Angela (Janina Gavankar) for months, and their marriage seems destined for divorce.

You’ve seen guys like Jack before, and you might think that he drew the loser card at birth. Father Devine (John Aylward) runs the Catholic high school Bishop Hayes, and he remembers Jack as a driven athlete and star basketball player. He summons Jack to his office, tells him the current coach is recovering from a heart attack and offers him the job of head coach.

Jack doesn’t exactly start his job with a ton of advantages. The current basketball team at Bishop Hayes is terrible. They include Marcus (Melvin Gregg), a center who’s more concerned with showing off than nailing goals, and Brandon (Brandon Wilson), a quiet point guard who doesn’t realize how talented he is. His assistant coach Dan (Al Madrigal) means well, but as the school math teacher, he’s not quite the right guy to inspire the team. But is Jack? Maybe, if his alcoholism doesn’t kill him first.

Take a moment and imagine the classic sports movie Hoosiers but imagine that Dennis Hopper’s broken-down alcoholic is the head coach. At first glance, that’s what The Way Back seems to be. It’s true that director Gavin O’Connor leans into sports movie clichés such as the player with a shaky relationship with his father, and the incorrigible horndog who learns to get serious. A closer look shows us that, as much as O’Connor knows the rhythms of high school basketball and how it can electrify or depress a community, he hasn’t really made a sports movie. Instead, The Way Back is a character study, and O’Connor is content to follow Jack. He takes his time showing us his isolation, his patterns, his despair, and his desperation to break free somehow. O’Connor has excellent timing, and he knows when to linger on character moments and when to toss us into the midst of the action. Most importantly, just like his other films Warrior and Miracle, O’Connor has a real gift for finding the ideal actors and giving them time to inhabit their roles fully.

The screenplay by Brad Inglesby is perceptive in the almost robotic routines common for an alcoholic to settle into. There’s a sequence where we see Jack at home. He opens the refrigerator to reveal numerous cans of beer. One can is removed, then the freezer is opened, showing us a chilled beer. He removes the chilled can, replaces it, drains the chilled beer, and continues the ritual. At no point does Jack seem to enjoy drinking, and that’s where Inglesby’s script is so smart. If you have an alcoholic in your life, or if you are one, you know that it’s not about too much overindulgence or a moral failing. Alcoholism is a disease, a biochemical affliction, and we can feel that when Jack stops drinking and subsequently relapses, it’s not because he’s weak. It’s because he desperately needs treatment.

A film like this is all about following a central character, and for it to succeed, the right actor needs to be cast. O’Connor seems to be one of the few directors who knows how to use Ben Affleck properly.*** Along with comedy, he’s an actor that excels at playing regular guys who work like hell to hide their flaws. In Gone Girl, watch how he tries and fails to keep up with a spouse who’s much smarter than he is. Here, watch how he initially tries fading into the background of social situations and when his confidence rises, he overcompensates. His performance is a battle between extremes, and we can see him fighting for a little equilibrium. His physicality is also one of his most potent tools. Affleck has always been a big dude, but here he’s got the hulking frame of a former athlete who devotes time to booze rather than the weights. But he never moves confidently. Instead, he’s always a little awkward, as if he doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the world.

The Way Back doesn’t reinvent the wheel. It doesn’t need to, as it’s a solid little film that features a brave and vanity-free performance by Ben Affleck. Whether due to bad choices or bad luck, Affleck is someone who’s always gotten kicked in the nuts and managed to get back up. He hit bottom. He got up. We can, too.

    *This is despite the persistent rumor that screenwriting legend William Goldman was the actual writer.

**A good example is his ethical thriller Changing Lanes with Samuel L. Jackson. Seek it out, it’s a hell of a good movie.

***Say what you will about Kevin Smith, but his hyperverbal scripts tend to be a strong match with Affleck’s comic timing.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/the-grind/

[hxans]

I wrapped up my counseling sessions today

So, I was entitled to 8 sessions, but I'm stopping st 6. It has helped, I think, with my anxiety. I think there were these uncertainties about the future that I needed to take time to acknowledge and process how I felt about them. I also had fo come to terms with the fact I'm not feeling capable of looking after my cat.

I love her, but really, I think she needs to be in a household without children or any other pets. I'm her favourite person and I just... cannot give her the love and attention she needs, not without spreading myself too thin. And her having accidents on furniture or around the house either because she wants attention or has some health issue I'm not catching is a drain on my energy as I stress about where she is if not confined to the wash house or outdoors. It's no life for her to be exiled.

We still aren't sure if the owner of our house is going to put it on the market or not, but it's incentivising us to figure out if we can buy our own house, otherwise we're looking for another rental. Moving stress and trying to transition my son into a new home plus he's supposed to be starting school at the beginning of next year (we may delay depending on how he handles things), I don't want to be stressing about the cat too.

So really the order of things that I need to get through over the next few months and hopefully things will be okay is

-husband sorts out car part order to get w.o.f. sorted

-approach mortgage broker about buying home

-flea treat cat before surrendering her to SPCA

-tidy house/grounds for flat inspection and potential going on the market

-reregister & w.o.f. for old car to sell it

-offload boxes of things we marie-kondoed earlier this year

-house hunting

-enrol son in school

-son's graduation from pre-k

-don't forget Christmas

-son starts school? Depends on the housing situation

-once housing and school sorted, I can look at getting my DL and a job

-maybe if we're in a home we own we can get a dog and a couple cats...

Anyway, that's sort of my list.

[fiightcrarchived2]

all the prime numbers for the character solidifying meme

2      how do they think of their mother ? what do they hate ? love ? what influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have ? 

      oh boi.    ok, so let me be real honest for one small second ;  amelia hunter loved her mother with all her heart.   yes, she hated her for not standing up to jackson, for not stopping him, for letting herself get murdered by her husband.  but dear lord, she loved her so much.  was a real mommy’s girl as a matter of fact.   as for influence, i’d low key wager nothing actually influenced her about ashley, bc blondie was like seven at the time she died and everything she really knew was that she would never ever touch alcohol….   heh.

3       brothers, sisters ?  who do they like ? why ? what do they despise about their siblings ?

      LEANNE WAS HER FIRST LOVE.   AND SHE WAS HEARTBROKEN WHEN SHE WAS LOST.      ok, so from the very first moment she held leanne in her arms at the hospital at the ripe age of four, amelia hunter swore to protect her baby sister from anything that could ever harm her.    how wrong she would prove to be.   along with her first real platonic love, and for the next eight years, leanne hunter was her everything — as well as her biggest failure and sorrow. 

7       what was the economic status of their family ?

      the first four years they belonged in like the upper middle class ?    two story house, garden with a white picket fence ; the perfect family i the sub-urbs.   then jackson lost his job and started drinking and the money went quickly down the drain, but up until the brutal murder of jackson ; and the night where wolfie’s world turned upside down, they stayed in the same house.    (  extra info !   the same house has since then had like seven families who all moved out quickly claiming the house was haunted.   so now it’s just slowly decaying at the  end of the streets.  kids in the neighborhood dare each other to go inside / spend the night etc.  – it’s now a test of “bravery” tbh. )

11       how do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated ?

      she is uneducated, and she’s awfully aware of that, having never actually graduated high school.     she was done with that shit the day she turned eighteen and was out of the system.     and so she doesn’t see herself as smart, intelligent or anything in those directions.   she does however consider herself streetsmart and witty, a survivor and a fighter, and strong and brave.     but at the same time, a coward and a hypocrite and weak.

13       did they like school ? teachers ? schoolmates ?

      as mentioned above, she never even graduated high school, so she disliked that quite a lot.   mostly because she was always the new kid and had a really hard time connecting with her peers.  instead she was the kind of rebel shit that skipped classes and hung out with the older boys and smoked cigarettes behind the gym and made out beneath the bleachers.  she was rude towards her teachers, and most other kinds of authorities, and sometimes even fellow students.   the only subjects she even moderately liked was music and gym.  anything that required her to sit still and take notes and read were a whole other story and usually skipped.   especially biology, chem and math.    being the new kid at least once a school year wasn’t easy and  as such friendships were scarce.    why make a connection that would never last more than like a semester ?

19       what were your character’s deepest disillusions ? in life ? what are they now ?

answer to be added when i have a good one tbh.

23       what do they want from a partner ? what do they think and feel of sex ?

      security.   feeling secure with her partner is one of the most important things;  along with security comes trust, of course.  if there’s no trust there’s simply nothing.   secondly she demands a modicum of independence due to her line of work.  she needs to know that their partner can handle the uncertainty of this thing she’s chosen for a living,  and not go and demand her changing her way of life.   ( she might decide to do that if it’s serious enough, but it HAS TO BE her choice. )     also any future partner need to be able to kill det fucking spiders, man !!         as for the sex,  it’s an itch that needs to be scratched once in a while.  it’s a means to an end,  something to offer to get something she wants.   it means nothing to her. 

29       what is your character’s weaknesses ? 

      her heart.      ok, so amelia might come off as somewhat of a frigid bitch,  but that’s more or less fake news.    it’s the safest defense mechanism;  don’t let anyone in, and you won’t get hurt.   because despite it all she has a gigantic heart of gold,  and if you manged to get through the microscopic cracks she will lay down ehr life for you without blinking twice.   her pride.    blondie’s never been much of a team player, preferring to handle things alone,  always believing she’s good enough to handle things on her own.   safe to say it has landed her in more trouble than anyone should be able to.    her lack of a brain-to-mouth-filter …  sarcasm is the one thing this girl can speak fluently,  especially at inappropriate times.    children and animals,  seeing one hurt is an eternal source of rage, and she rarely won’t rest until she’s had  a     talk     with whomever responsible for the suffering.       … and she’s deathly terrified of fucking spiders. 

31       does your character have children ? how do they feel about the parental role ? about children ? 

      she does not.   and she can ever actually have one,  not biologically at least.   but, boy oh boy,  she wish to be a parent.   she loves children,  would give her soul to have one of her own.   instead she is orphaned children’s fiercest protector;   never one to back away if she sees one in trouble.    honestly, if she could she would just adopt every single one she meets. 

37       how is your character’s imagination ? daydreaming a lot ? worried most of the time ? living in memories ?

      surprisingly not that vivid.    with everything she sees and handles it’s hard to imagine even more crazy.  when she was little she used to live in a daydream; one in which she got leanne and herself away from jackson, away from oklahoma,  and they could start anew just the two of them.    when leanne was killed however the dream just died with her, and since then the only kind of dreams have been night terrors,   and even day terrors if she’s gone too long without sleeping and hallucinations starts to appear.   

41       is your character aware of who they are ? strengths ? weaknesses ? idiosyncrasies ? capable of self-irony ?

   mostly yes,    while i’m very sure others could pick out her quirks easier than she can herself,  she is very aware of her flaws and most of her  strengths;  except for those she simply does not agree with.   like the golden heart and generosity -  because those are weaknesses and not strengths after all.   

43       does your character have any secrets ? if so, are they holding them back ?

      ‘”     i murdered my father at the age of twelve..  but only because he was an abusive fuck who killed my sister and mother.   and then i’ve been in and out of foster homes until i turned 18  and ever since i’ve been hunting monsters and living under false names because my real identity is presumed dead.   “  yeah, huge secrets,   never to tell unless you’re in the really, really close inner circle.   no one never is tbh…

47       do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person ? do they want to be visible or invisible ?

      it depends on the situation,  amelia is nothing if not a social chameleon and can blend in and fake it with the best of them if deemed necessary.   

5&17      is already answered !

                                                       ✉      //      a.      ��       @starkmatriarch​ .