#sarah is like. impossible to reach for recordings

[flojouno]

another day of wanting to be a mcyt. this is hell.

[loveesiren]

What about jj saving rafes gf instead of Sarah when she falls off the boat? Even though jj and Rafe hate each other

of course babes! sorry this took a while, i hope you enjoy! :)

𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

warnings: not proofread, language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Before you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, you were a Pogue through and through. You grew up with JJ and John B, learning to boat, fish, and work hard for the things you wanted. Life was simple but full, with endless summer days spent on the water and nights filled with laughter. When Pope and Kiara joined your crew, it felt like your family was complete—especially since having Kiara around meant you finally had someone who understood what it was like to be a girl surrounded by all that chaotic, masculine energy.

But things changed when you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. At first, it seemed impossible. A Kook and a Pogue? The idea alone was laughable. Yet, against all odds, there was something magnetic about Rafe—a spark you couldn’t ignore. And to your surprise, he felt it too. It wasn’t long before stolen glances turned into secret meetings, and those meetings turned into something deeper. But every step closer to Rafe felt like a step away from your childhood friends.

Sure, it was fine when John B started dating Sarah Cameron. But when you got with the older Cameron sibling, it was a problem. Rafe’s constant harassment didn’t help your case. Sarah was much kinder than her brother, and the Pogues saw her as someone who genuinely cared for John B. Rafe, on the other hand, had a reputation that preceded him—a volatile temper and a knack for trouble that made him nearly impossible to trust. Except when it came to you. Your presence seemed to calm the storm in his mind.

Choosing Rafe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that you stopped caring for the Pogues. In fact, you still loved them fiercely, even if your paths had diverged. Being with Rafe meant walking a tightrope. While he harbored a burning hatred for your old crew, he knew better than to act on it—because hurting them meant risking you. And losing you was unthinkable for Rafe, who had grown to see you as the one thing anchoring him in his stormy world. But even his restraint couldn’t erase the tension. The Pogues saw your relationship as a betrayal, and you feared they’d never forgive you. 

Now, you sat alone on the edge of a boat, staring out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic as it stretched endlessly before you. The journey to Morocco wasn’t one you’d ever imagined taking. But here you were, caught between two worlds, trying desperately to keep the peace. It was your idea to bring Rafe and the Pogues together for this mission. You’d convinced Rafe to help them track down Groff, who had made off with his money, knowing it could also give JJ and Pope a chance to evade capture. Even if you weren’t close anymore, you couldn’t bear to see the people you once called family thrown behind bars.

But, as expected, not everything had gone to plan.

The Pogues didn’t trust Rafe—and for good reason. His track record spoke for itself. As soon as they got him on the boat, they tied him up in the tiny bathroom, keeping him under lock and key. You understood their logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to see your boyfriend treated like a prisoner. Worse still, they’d forbidden you from seeing him until you reached Morocco. You didn’t fight them on it. Confrontation had never been your strong suit, and besides, you knew better than to argue with JJ when his mind was made up.

So, you sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull, the salty breeze brushing against your face. The solitude of the sea was both comforting and suffocating. It gave you time to think—about the choices you’d made, the people you’d hurt, and the fragile balance you were struggling to maintain. You wanted to believe this trip could be a turning point, a chance to bridge the gap between Rafe and the Pogues. But deep down, you knew the odds were slim. Trust was hard to rebuild, and the wounds on both sides ran deep.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you let out a weary sigh. All you could do now was wait—for land, for answers, for the moment when everything would inevitably come to a head. Until then, the sea was your only companion, its endless expanse reflecting the tangled mess of your heart.

-

Sarah was kind. She always had been. Even after all her brother had put her through, she still cared for him enough to make sure he was fed and hydrated. She did the same for you.

“Brought you some dinner,” she said, plopping down beside you.

“Thanks,” you responded softly. You took a few bites of the sandwich she brought you before putting it aside. Your appetite had been wearing thin the entire trip.

“I think it’s stupid too,” she said, looking out at the horizon while the late sun cast bright ripples on the calm water.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The whole Kook versus Pogue thing. Rafe’s done his fair share of bad shit, but haven’t we all? I really think he wants to help this time.”

“He does,” you said. “All he wants is to get his money back from Groff. He doesn’t care about the crown. Honest.”

“I know,” she said, offering you a soft smile. “We’ll be there soon. Try to rest.”

You pondered her words as she walked off. You weren’t overly close with Sarah. It was almost as if you and she had swapped lives. You started seeing Rafe around the same time Sarah and John B got together, and for the last three years, she’d been getting a taste of life’s adventures while you enjoyed the finer things. You loved Rafe. You were in love with him. You couldn’t imagine being without him. But you often found yourself missing the life you once lived with the Pogues.

You cringed as you swallowed one final shot of whiskey, a vice that did close to nothing to take the stress away. You tossed the bottle to the side and rolled over, closing your eyes and trying your best to relax to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Eventually, you were lulled to sleep, dreaming of Rafe. He smiled as he took you into his large arms, and you felt secure in his warm embrace.

The dream was short-lived, though, as you were thrown roughly against the hard wall of the boat. Disoriented, you struggled to find something to grip. Rain lashed against your face as the boat pitched violently from side to side.

You made your way to your feet and took in your surroundings. The storm had hit fast. You could see movement inside the helm as the Pogues scrambled to navigate the chaos and secure the boat.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your breath hitching. “Rafe!” your voice rose into a frantic scream as you stumbled toward the helm. You knew you had to find him—if he was left unsecured, he’d drown.

“Y/N, get inside!” JJ’s voice cut through the storm. You turned to see him and John B holding the door open, JJ’s hand extended toward you. You reached for him, but another violent wave threw you to the deck.

“Where’s Rafe?!” you yelled, coughing as salty seawater stung your throat.

“Kiara’s getting him!” John B shouted back.

Moments later, Rafe appeared in the doorway, drenched but alive. “Y/N!”

Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, but your joy was short-lived. A massive wave loomed on the horizon, crashing into the boat with terrifying force. You screamed as the water dragged you off the stern, the world disappearing into a churning abyss.

“Y/N!” JJ and Rafe shouted in unison.

“Rafe!” you screamed, fighting to keep your head above water. The sea clawed at you, threatening to pull you under. “Rafe! Help!”

“I’m coming, Y/N!” JJ’s voice rang out as he dove into the water after you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” John B yelled, trying to hold Rafe back from following. “JJ, no, no, no!”

But it was too late. JJ had already disappeared beneath the waves.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s scream was raw with desperation, tears streaming down his face. John B had never seen him so unhinged, so consumed by fear.

John B pressed his hand firmly against Rafe’s chest, forcing him back inside. “Come on, man! We can’t help them if we drown too!” he yelled over the howling wind. He shoved Rafe into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe sobbed, pounding his fists against the wall. “I have to go help her! I have to find her, man!”

“Rafe!” Sarah’s voice cut through the chaos as she wrapped her arms around him. “Rafe, it’s okay! Let’s just get to land. I’m sure they’ll find their way back!” She rubbed his back as he crumpled, his sobs echoing through the small cabin.

-

The water finally calmed as you and JJ struggled onto the sand, every muscle in your body screaming with exhaustion. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the relief of solid ground beneath you was overwhelming. Collapsing onto the beach, you coughed violently, lungs burning as you fought to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his voice ragged between gasps for air.

You nodded weakly, words feeling like too much effort. After a moment, you managed to rasp, “A-Are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minutes passed as you both sat in silence, trying to steady your breathing. The ocean stretched out before you, dark and infinite, illuminated only by a pale sliver of moonlight. A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts turned to Rafe—his face, his voice, and the uncertainty of whether you’d ever see him again.

“They’ll be okay, Y/N,” JJ said softly, his tone more reassuring than he probably felt. “At first light, we’ll head down the beach. We’ll find them.”

You nodded, swallowing back another wave of emotion. “Hey, Jayj?” Your voice was barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, gratitude lacing every syllable.

He turned to you with a tired but genuine smile. “Can’t kill a Pogue, right?”

The next thing you knew, the sun was warming your skin, its gentle rays coaxing you back to consciousness. The once-violent sea was calm now, its rhythmic waves bringing an unexpected peace. You stretched, muscles stiff and aching, before glancing toward the shore.

JJ was standing near the water, absentmindedly dragging his foot through the sand. You rose to your feet, brushing off grains of sand stuck to your damp clothes, and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

He turned, offering you a small smile. “Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Guess so,” you chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I passed out.”

“Not surprising,” JJ said with a shrug. “You were pretty wrecked.” His tone was light, but concern lingered in his eyes. “I was thinking we head up the beach toward where the boat was headed. If they made it to land, that’s where we’ll find them.”

You winced at the word if, the uncertainty slicing through your chest like a blade. “Okay,” you replied firmly. “Let’s go.”

For the next 45 minutes, the two of you trudged along the beach in silence, your shared determination a quiet bond. Every step brought a mix of hope and dread as you scanned the horizon for any sign of your loved ones.

“You know,” JJ said suddenly, breaking the silence, “they’re probably feeling the same as us—like they might never see us again.”

You shook your head, gripping tightly onto hope. “We’ll find them, Jayj. We have to.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “We will.”

A few more minutes passed before you gathered the courage to speak again. “JJ?”

He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do… Do you hate me?” The question felt heavy on your tongue, dredging up years of unspoken tension.

JJ’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. “No, Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.”

His words caught you off guard, and you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “It just… it felt like you did.”

JJ’s voice softened as he continued. “I was hurt. You were my best friend, and when you and Rafe got together, it felt like he stole you away. From me. From all of us.”

A tear slid down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. “I’m sorry, Jayj. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said firmly. “All you’ve ever done was try to keep the peace. I should’ve seen that sooner. And last night, when you fell off the boat…” His voice wavered, and he looked away. “All I could think about was how I couldn’t let you die thinking I hated you. You’re my sister, Y/N. You always will be.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. JJ hugged you back tightly, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you, Jayj. I’ve missed you so much,” you whispered.

He pulled back, his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna fix this. All of it. I’ll even make an effort with Rafe if it means getting you back.”

An hour later, the sun was high in the sky when you spotted movement in the distance.

“J, is that them?” you asked breathlessly, shielding your eyes with your hand.

JJ squinted at the figures. “Let’s find out,” he said, quickening his pace.

As you got closer, the shapes grew clearer: Sarah’s golden hair, Kiara’s familiar stance, and Rafe’s unmistakable silhouette towering above the group.

“Rafe!” you cried, breaking into a run.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening before he sprinted toward you. The moment he reached you, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Oh my God,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never see you again!” He cried.

“I’m here,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m safe. JJ saved me.”

When Rafe finally pulled back, his gaze shifted to JJ, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion. Without hesitation, Rafe approached him and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” Rafe said, his voice thick with emotion.

JJ stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, clapping Rafe on the back. “Yeah, well… couldn’t let her die on my watch,” he said with a crooked smile.

As you stood there, watching the two men who meant so much to you, hope swelled in your chest. For the first time in years, you felt like things might finally be okay.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[mostlymarvelgirl]

Imagine If Magneto's *Private Moment* With You Was Released Into The Internet (Fem! Reader)

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT IG?

Erik sighed. This wasn't supposed to happen at all. On one hand, he really didn't mind, knowing that at some point, this would happen due to his fame in mutant politics, but on the other hand he didn't want you to be shown to the entire world like this in a private scenario.

The things you would have to face in public, what you would have to go through. While being deep in thought about how to deal with the scenario, a door with you running inside crying angrily. The door was slammed closed.

"Did you know? Did you know that someone motherfucking asshole recorded us having sex and released it? It's apparently the hottest sextape released in the century.', you screamed at him as if you were accusing him.

He felt guilty. Of course, he would never show that, but he ended up with a comment catastrophic enough to ruin the rest of his personal life. Not that he meant what he said, but clearly not thinking through.

"Well, I warned you not to try anything new and kinky. You should've listened.", Erik said immediately, regretting what came out of his mouth.

"What?", your voice became small, not being able to believe what he said.

Before he could apologize and explain, and your anger clouded mind lost patience, the ring from your was thrown into the sink, and you turned your heels walked out the door.

****3 Months Later****

"As we recall the recent steamiest s*xtape of magneto and his wife released into internet which gained over 3.8 billion views has been deleted by the cyber crime from all platforms. The culprits had been caught but died in an accident. Was it planned by Magneto? Or was it just an accident? I'm Sarah Moon reporting in six o clock evening news and I'll see you tomorrow."

The TV was switched off.

Y/N sighed. She knew who killed them and knew Erik wouldn't be arrested. She should've known that Erik was not good expressing and should've seen the expression. She regretted throwing the ring he made for her. She regretted what she had done.

"Regretting some past actions, I suppose?", the sarcastic voice spoke up.

Of course, it would Charles Xavier showing up behind her. That annoying British accent.

"For the record, my accent once wooed your husband to my bedroom, so I would take it as a jealousy or compliment coming from you.", Charles replied while sticking his hair back.

"What do you want?", you ask him with annoyance. You didn't want to aggravate your guilt more than it already was.

Charles smiled. That bitch. You knew, well, everyone knew, if they were in trouble and needed to solve the problem quickly, Charles would do the *smile*, and it'll be like it never happened.

"You're not wiping the entire world's memory about this, that's damn near impossible and dangerous.", you replied to his reaction.

"Well, it is for the better. Think about it. Or well, I should say actually, discuss about it.", Charles wheeled back slowly and opened the door.

"What are you-", you were cut off with Erik standing outside the door soaking wet with...............blood.

Silence.

There was no sound. All, the both of you wanted to do was to reach to one another and cry, Apologize, and comfort, but, the ego and guilt in both of you prevented all the bottled emotions and feelings of 3 months.

"Well, I will be leaving and give the both of you sone privacy. I'll be waiting right outside. Let me know when you've decided.", Charles said while wheeling out and closed the door.

"Hi."

That was it to pull the trigger inside you.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN BY SAYING HI???!!! YOU COCK-SUCKING, TWAT-WAFFLED SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH-ASS- HATTED CUNT! YOU'RE FUCKING KILLING AGAIN???!!! HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED CLEAN THIS MESS UP?!!!", you blasted at him.

"Listen i-", Erik was cut off.

"NO. YOU LISTEN, YOU LITTLE DICK! I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE TAPE. OKAY?!", you stated before he could ask.

You started to tear up and your voice broke and became small and vulnerable.

"I don't want you to kill around people. We could've done this together. I don't care what other say about me. Please j-just stop.", you started to cry.

Erik walked near you and hugged you tightly as you hugged him back.

He apologized to you and held you. You felt a something slip in your ring finger. You smiled and cried more realizing how horrible you must have looked.

"Y'know, you smell really bad like some old metal furniture. You need to get showered.", you pushed him away for fun.

"We could shower toge-", Erik got cut off.

"NO. Absolutely not.", you stated while laughing.

[dumbestthingiveeverheard]

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 7/27/2023

Fifth Place: Elon Musk

Remember back in 2017 when shaky evidence of ads appearing on neo-Nazi and racist content caused YouTube to have take a much stronger stance on who they do and don't monetize? Well it looks like Twitter could reach the same problem soon, given Media Matters posted an article today with the headline "Twitter placed ads for USA Today, National Women’s Soccer League, and other major brands on a terrorism-linked neo-Nazi account." One such group is quite literally called the National Socialist Network, a play on the National Socialist German Workers Party, or the Nazi Party. This is especially notable because Musk has had a hard time getting advertisers to invest in the platform ever since he bought, even resigning as CEO specifically in hopes of making the process of finding advertisers easier.

Fourth Place: Isaac Schorr

Hey Isaac, how has selling your soul to Ron DeSantis been? Today, our old buddy Isaac published an article with the headline "AP African American History Includes Similar Lesson to Controversial Florida Curriculum Blasted by Kamala Harris." The article parrots a claim by DeSantis's Press Secretary Jeremy Redfern showing a line from the AP African American History course that Florida opposed--which I guess makes it okay in the mind of these two.

Of course, just because this AP class does something, that fails to make it okay--especially when, again, this same group of people opposed said AP class in the first place. Academics can hold racist views and pass said ideas down to their students--eugenics was an idea supported largely by academics, remember.

Also, what's with that headline? If your citation for this is a tweet from the Press Secretary, shouldn't it be something like "DeSantis Press Secretary Fires Back Against Kamala Harris's Claims, Points Out AP African American History Course Includes Similar Material." Or do you not want to admit that somebody else is DeSantis's Press Secretary given your desire to turn Mediaite into nothing more than his biggest supporter website?

Third Place: Allie Beth Stuckey

I would like to thank Justin Horowitz on Twitter for finding these tweets from Stuckey, regarding the aforementioned controversy of DeSantis's history courses:

The argument boils down to "It wasn't a good thing, but a lot of people did benefit from it." But wait--if so many people benefitted from this or that event, why exactly was it a bad thing?

Also, I love the use of the phrase "skills learned there," as if Japanese-American Internment Camps had free sewing classes or something along those lines.

Second Place: Pamela Paul

Yes, the famously transphobic New York Times columnist gets an entry today through her article "Don’t Call Her ‘Karen.'" Most of the article is fine, correctly pointing out that misleading video is what led to the campaign of Sarah Comrie, but instead of blaming this on people being too damn willing to believe short videos about interactions they weren't present for, she blames the word Karen or something.

And there’s something else I know for sure: Once publicly labeled a “Karen,” Comrie was placed in a no-win situation. There is no doubt that the violent history of white people making false accusations against Black people should give anyone pause when making an accusation against a group of Black teenagers. But it cannot be the case, morally or logically, that it’s impossible for a white woman to have a justifiable complaint and impermissible for her to speak up if she thinks she’s been wronged. Yet that is what the term “Karen” implies: that if you are a white woman, your relative privilege renders suspect any complaint you might have; if you try to defend yourself, you thereby prove the case against you.

For the record, I have never seen the word "Karen" used in this racially charged context like Paul claims. It's describing the behavior of a certain strain of white women through comedic hyperbole, and although the term did originate among black people, it has since been used rather race neutrally in reference to who somebody labeled it can effect. The term is often used in reference to people who ask to speak to the manager at a store at the slightest provocation, but that has nothing to do with the race of the people involved.

I also found this part of the article rather interesting:

The Karen trope reflects a pervasive strain of misogyny in our culture. “Karen has become synonymous with woman among those who consider woman an insult,” Helen Lewis wrote in The Atlantic in a detailed anatomy of the slur. The journalist Nina Burleigh has also observed the term’s distinct tilt toward white women over 40, long a punching bag in popular culture: “White middle-class women of a certain age are among the last groups one can hurl targeted abuse online without being canceled.”

Can somebody--anybody--tell me what separates this from the vaguely white nationalist writings you find on most conservative websites across the internet? Declaring any group of white people "the last group you can make fun of" (which is utterly nonsensical for a number of reasons) is the basis of the vast majority of white victim complex pieces in existence, and that is the basis for modern western white nationalist thought. Although I am not going so far as to say that Paul and these two other women are white nationalists, I am saying they are publishing their talking points and they--along with The New York Times--should be fucking ashamed of themselves for allowing this to go unchallenged.

Winner: Chip Roy

I'll just allow this Mediaite headline to say it all: "Chip Roy Condemns Fellow GOP House Members Not Wanting To Impeach Mayorkas: They’re ‘Hiding Behind The Constitution.’" You mean the document they're sworn to uphold as members of Congress?

Chip Roy, you've said the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

[techlogicsoftwares]

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[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, meet rafe

story summary: rafe, now a famous singer, has spent years pouring his heart into music, each song a reflection of his lingering love for her. his rise to fame has only deepened his longing, but he’s never been able to reach out. he watches from afar, quietly stalking her social media, but never daring to make the first move.

when they meet again, the connection between them is undeniable. but y/n is in a new relationship—safe, steady, everything rafe isn’t. yet as their paths collide, it becomes clear that the love they shared never really faded, even if life moved on without them.

light mode!! masterlist

•••

♪ he’s charming, intense, and carries a quiet, brooding energy. as a famous singer, he’s used to the spotlight, but underneath his confident, larger-than-life persona, there’s a vulnerability that only a few people, like y/n, have ever seen. he’s fiercely loyal but his past mistakes weigh heavily on him.

♪ he’s passionate about music, spending most of his time writing, recording, and performing. he channels his deepest emotions into his songs, often drawing inspiration from his own pain and longing. when not immersed in his music, he enjoys playing the guitar, surfing, and spending time alone, seeking solace in the quiet of nature.

♪ he’s a global sensation known for his soulful voice and emotionally raw music. his fame has brought him additional wealth and a dedicated fanbase, but it’s also caused emotional distance between him and those he cares about. his fanbase is dedicated but often obsessive, with some fans crossing the line into stalker-like behavior, constantly monitoring his every move on social media. though he’s adored by fans, he’s often lonely, finding it hard to trust others in the industry. he’s often compared to artists like john mayer, harry styles, the weeknd, jeff buckley, and the 1975.

♪ his love for y/n is his biggest regret. they shared a deep, passionate connection as childhood friends that eventually turned into a relationship. however, their relationship ended in heartbreak, and rafe has never gotten over it. he channels his longing and regrets into his music, even writing songs about her that no one knows are meant for her.

♪ he’s not seeing anyone seriously. he does occasionally have flings or one night stands, however none of them are meaningful. his relationships are often shallow, not because he doesn’t care for others, but because he is still in love with y/n, and is unable to move on fully. the intensity of his feelings for her and the fact that he hasn’t truly let go of their past makes it impossible for him to be with anyone else in a genuine way. his heart has always been tied to y/n and despite his success and the attention from fans, he remains emotionally unavailable, still haunted by his past with her.

♪ he’s back in town for sarah’s wedding but also a break from all of the pressures of fame. he’s seeking some peace and clarity, especially with his new album nearing release. however, he’s also facing the reality that seeing y/n again may bring up old wounds. his fame makes it difficult for him to find privacy—his delusional fans constantly stalk his social media, and the attention only deepens his sense of isolation. returning to obx is a way for him to reclaim some semblance of normalcy—even if it means confronting his past and the woman he can’t seem to forget.

he’s currently listening to…

[cripple-woe]

Here is a very well known case to demonstrate Morg’s point:

Joseph Carey Merrick, (derogatorily termed ‘the Elephant Man’) was a man who lived from 1862 through to 1890, born in England, in Leicestershire, and dying in London.

Joseph was a man with a very prominent facial deformity/difference, and had a ‘career (explotation)’ as a ‘professional freak’, during the rise and peak of the “human curiosities” craze in the 19th century, the same tidal-wave of freak shows that are known for the exploitation of African slave Sarah Baartman, and the rise of showman P.T. Barnum and his popularisation of carnival ‘freak shows’.

Joseph’s condition began to show at age 5, increasing the size of his head to 3ft circumference, with skin hanging across his face, making it difficult to speak clearly, and near-impossible to facially express emotions. He also had deformities in both legs that required him to use a walking stick, and in one of his arms.

His father and stepmother showed him no affection, and he was quoted saying his home life was, “a perfect misery.” He rolled cigarettes from 13 to 16, before having to leave due to the deformity in his hand developing further and limiting his ability to roll. He then became a hawker, selling for the haberdashery door-to-door. This did not work, as people would react in disgust or horror to his appearance, would not be able to understand his words, or would tail him in blatant curiosity. He failed to make enough money, and his father severely beat him one day before he left for good.

A quote from his biography about his working days reads as follows,

"I was taunted and sneered at so that I would not go home to my meals, and used to stay in the streets with a hungry belly rather than return for anything to eat, what few half-meals I did have, I was taunted with the remark—'That's more than you have earned.'"

He started his working life again in a workhouse at 17, before escaping and joining a ‘freak show.’

He encountered a physician there, Treves, and took his offer of medical aid and was admitted to London Hospital.

Treves has been recorded to have written this about his patient,

"the most disgusting specimen of humanity that I had ever seen [...] at no time had I met with such a degraded or perverted version of a human being as this lone figure displayed.”

They attempted to find him a hospital for chronic diseases, but were unsuccessful.

This search, however, drew the attention of other doctors. Many visited him, and he was displayed like an inhuman creature for study at a meeting of the Pathological Society of London in 1884. He then joined a circus and toured Europe.

Upon reaching Belgium, Joseph’s road manager robbed him for his belongings, and abandoned him in Brussels.

He somehow made it back to the London hospital, and was allowed to live there for the rest of his life, where he stayed until his death at the heartbreakingly young age of 27. Despite the words Treves had written about him, it’s said that since he had found someone who understood his speech, he was delighted to carry on long conversations with the doctor. He never built true trust, however, telling the doctor he was an only child.

The doctor also noticed signs of depression, and Joseph admitted that he had been suffering from loneliness, as most women he met would react poorly to his appearance. Treves arranged a female visitor, and Joseph was overcome with emotion, saying that she was the first woman to smile at him, and shake his hand.

He ended up with a handful of high-society visitors, being given gifts and returning them with letters and baskets as thanks.

Occasionally, Merrick grew bold enough to leave his small living quarters and explore the hospital.

When discovered, he was always hurried back to his quarters by the nurses, who feared he might ‘frighten the patients’.

While officially it was ruled as an accidental asphyxiation, Joseph’s death was the result of him attempting to sleep like ‘other people’, as he had always had to sleep sitting up. Treves wrote this about his patients death.

“He often said to me that he wished he could lie down to sleep 'like other people' ... he must, with some determination, have made the experiment ... Thus it came about that his death was due to the desire that had dominated his life—the pathetic but hopeless desire to be 'like other people'.”

After performing an autopsy, Treves determined that Merrick had died of a dislocated neck, which likely severed his vertebral arteries.

Joseph did not recieve a burial.

He was dissected. His skeleton was preserved, his deformities cast in plaster, and his soft tissues preserved for samples. As Merrick was a devout Christian, he should be given a Christian burial in his home city of Leicester. The university that owns his skeleton (the body of a man, like property) insist on keeping him in a glass case for their students to gawk at.

Please, know what “freaks” were. What “freaks” went through.

fellow queers please don’t forget that “freak” did not originally mean “sexual deviant” even though you see people on the right AND the left use it that way now

“freakshows” did not JUST have femboys and crossdressors or kinksters. they primarily showcased disabled people with serious deformities and face or limb differences. deformities & differences that made these folks so ostracized often got in the way of getting any other kind of work besides this

[leam1983]

"There's No Place Like Home!"

Work in my field long enough and you realize dealers exist in a weirdly solipsistic state wherein any customer records they do not update is perceived as Schrödinger's Car, existing as a potentiality of all brands and all configurations combined - including implausible and impossible ones.

Case in point: my list of disabled users of Mercedes Sprinter and GLC models that were extensively adapted in order to accomodate a wheelchair lift. You'll agree with me that people don't just stop being disabled, right? You'll agree with me that a disability is a lifelong challenge with which concessions have to be made, right?

Well, the last Sales Rep I spoke to made a face when he realized a particular client hadn't torn down his Sprinter and refurbed it into standard civilian use after six years. "Oh well, we'll just call again in a few months, I guess."

I blinked on the camera's feed. "You do realize we're talking about someone with advanced Multiple Sclerosis, right? Someone who cannot and, in fact, will not ever walk again, right?"

The fucker looks at me and shrugs. "Yeah, I know - but they might, y'know, spring for a refurb or not need it or-"

I'm visibly annoyed, by this point. "I'm going to need you to project me in this situation, Dave. You've seen me walk. Will I miraculously start pulling Ironman marathons in six years?"

Realization sets in, and he finally stops thinking like a Sales goon. "Um... No."

"Do you think there's any outside chance this client might walk again?"

"Um... No."

I grin, for good measure - even if I'd rather wring his neck. "So there's no sale to be had here, nothing for Mercedes Canada to scoop up."

Dave skips a beat. "Yeah, but what if he tries Botox, like you?"

I laugh, although I sort of want to reach through the screen and strangle him with my keyboard's cord. Sarah briefly squeezes my hand and Walt shakes a hand at me, in the universal gesture you could translate as Jesus Christ, man...

[watchmegetobsessed]

BLIND EYE

A/N: i've had this idea stuck in my head for a while and im kinda satisfied with how it turned out! hope you guys will like it too!

WORD COUNT: 10k

WARNING: sexual content, lots of misscommunication, its an emotional rollercoaster

SUMMARY: Harry thought everything was going well in his marriage. Right until one day his wife left with no explanation and not he is stuck in the dark, waiting to find out how he can fight for what matters the most to him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

 “Will this bloody rain ever stop?” Harry grumbles under his nose as they finally reach the front door of the townhouse that’s covered from the pouring rain. His hands are buried deep in his jacket’s pockets as he impatiently waits for Mitch to open the door so they can finally escape the monsoon that’s been nonstop pouring for the past three days. Mitch chuckles softly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Aren’t you supposed to be used to the rain? You spent way too much time away from here.”

“Just because I’m British it doesn’t mean I have to like this shitty weather,” he scoffs, following his friend into the home Mitch and Sarah are renting for the upcoming weeks. Harry and the band are now located in London to record as much new material as possible before they need to get on the road again soon. 

“If you say so,” Mitch huffs out a small laugh as he kicks his wet boots off his feet, Harry doing the same with his trainers.

“Sarah’s not home?” he questions, hanging his jacket up. Mitch grows cautious at his question, though he made sure his wife would be out by the time they get here. It’s not that Sarah is trying to avoid Harry. It’s impossible, since they work together, but she has made plans with someone who is actually actively working on not running into the singer. 

“Uh, no. She is out with James,” he says, picking up a toy on his way to the living room, dropping it into the basket next to the couch. “I’ll put my phone on the charger, can you make us coffee? You know how the machine works, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry nods and as Mitch heads upstairs to the bedroom, he walks into the kitchen, moving around like it’s his home. 

For a bit, the espresso machine’s noise cancels out everything else, Harry stands by it, staring out into the pouring rain through the sliding door that leads out to the small, lush green backyard. The townhouse is well-kept, Mitch and Sarah have rented it out several times when they had to spend more than just a few days in London and Harry thinks it suits the little family perfectly. 

Looking around in the kitchen he finds little reminders of the baby they welcomed not long ago, the bottles on the drying rack, the portable highchair they usually bring on tour as well and toys left scattered here and there. James has been a true blessing and Harry’s chest swells with pride every time he sees the little lad, knowing that he brought his parents together by recruiting them into the same band. 

When the machine stops working, Harry hears muffled voices coming from upstairs. Voices, as in not just Mitch’s.

He grabs his black coffee and curiously walks over to the bottom of the stairs, only to hear Mitch talking to his wife somewhere upstairs. So Sarah is home.

“Mitch?” he calls out, taking a small sip of his coffee. He hears footsteps and his friend appears on the stairs a few moments later, rushing down to join him, but he looks tense this time. “What’s up? Did I hear Sarah?”

“Yeah, she had to come back for something, but she’ll be leaving any minute. Come on, let’s settle in the kitchen.” Mitch gently grabs Harry’s arm and pulls him away from the stairs, but he resists, yanking his hold off of himself.

“What’s happening? I can’t see Sarah?” He chuckles with a puzzled look. 

“No, no, it’s just–”

And then he hears it. 

Harry would recognize her voice from a million others, it’s burnt into his mind and memories, and though it’s been a source of happiness and joy for long years in his life, now it makes his stomach drop and his throat goes dry.

“She’s here?” Harry frantically asks his friend.

“H, don’t. She doesn’t–”

Harry doesn’t let him finish, he rushes up the stairs without a second thought, looking for her. The door of the master bedroom is open, Sarah is standing there with James in her arms and when she spots him, her eyes widen.

“Harry–”

“I want to see her,” he pleads, slowly approaching the drummer, who is now walking towards him. She places a hand to his chest to stop him and he comes to a halt, though he is constantly trying to look over her shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of the person in the bedroom.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Sarah, I haven’t seen her in a month. I need to… Please!” he begs as panic is spreading through his veins from the thought of missing the chance of stealing a glimpse of her. It’s been the longest he had to spend apart from her and given the circumstances of how they parted the last time they saw each other, he is desperate to win some time with her.

“But she doesn’t–”

“It’s fine,” comes a voice from the bedroom and a moment later she steps out into the hallway and Harry’s vision blurs out everything around her.

One month felt like an eternity. After being joined by the hips for years, Harry lost contact with the person who means the most to him: his wife.

Sarah looks back at her friend, who just nods to reassure her she can leave them alone, though she glances back one last time before going down the stairs and giving them some privacy.

Harry feels like it’s the first time he is seeing her all over again. She is still just as gorgeous as he remembers, wearing a simple pair of jeans with a red knitted sweater. She is barely wearing any makeup, so he notices the circles under her eyes and his heart breaks all over again. Has she been having trouble sleeping? Was she recently sick? Is she not taking care of her? He has so many questions, but he knows he can’t just spill it all on her.

“Hey,” he breathes out instead, taking a hesitant step towards her, though they are still several feet apart. He is fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, caress her cheek, pull her into his arms and kiss her…

“Hi. Sorry, we weren’t supposed to be here, but James was a little cold so we came back for an extra jacket for him,” she explains, nervously crossing her arms over her chest and Harry feels like it’s her way of keeping him away and locked out of her private space. It hurts, seeing her act so cold towards him and knowing that he can do absolutely nothing about it.

“Don’t apologize for running into me. I’m glad to see you,” he softly says, taking another step forward, but this time she backs one too, hinting that she wants him to stay right where he is.

Harry clenches his jaw and bites his tongue, knowing that commenting on her cold act would just worsen his situation and it’s bad enough already. He fists his hands, but then forces himself to loosen the grip, not wanting to look like a threat in any way.

“How… How are you?” he asks, ignoring the millions of questions he wants to ask her.

“I’m fine,” she nods, but her voice is flat, lacks the brightness he is used to and it concerns him. “How are you?” she asks, more likely only out of politeness.

“I’m good. Just… working, you know.”

“Yeah, the usual,” she nods with a weak smile. 

There’s a few moments of awkward silence, something that never really happened between the two of them, not even when they were just getting to know each other back in the day. 

“Alright, I’ll just go–” she moves to walk past Harry, but he stops her, placing a hand on her arm, the touch taking both of them by surprise. 

“Wait, Y/N,” he pleads and her eyes look down at his hand on her. He moves it right away, hoping he didn’t overstep the boundaries that have been quite blurry lately. “I just… I don’t understand,” he admits, exhaling sharply.

“Harry…” she sighs. “I told you that I need ti–”

“Time, I get it. And I respect that. But I want to know what’s happening. You left me in the dark and I’m just…” he breathes out, so lost and desperate to find answers. “I want to know what’s happening. I can wait and give you time and space, but I need to at least know what I’m waiting for. What I can expect.”

She closes her eyes, a tortured frown plastered across her face as she bites into her bottom lip to stop her from crying. The past month has been tough for her as well, not just for Harry.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” she shakes her head.

“Tell me a reason, Y/N. There has to be a reason behind this, right?” he demands, but she just shakes her head again.

“I can’t do this now. I’m sorry,” she blurts out before running past him and down the stairs. He immediately regrets for pushing her and though he goes after her, she is fast and out of the house before he could catch up with her and when he reaches the end of the stairs he is met with Sarah.

“Don’t go after her, okay?” she pleads with a gentle hand on his chest. Harry wants to ignore her and just chase after Y/N, but deep down he knows he should stay back.

“Sarah, I can’t fucking do this. She wouldn’t say a word to me,” he breaks down, his throat closing up from the wave of emotions that are washing over him.

“I know, but she needs time. She will come around, just be patient.”

“I would be patient if only I knew what I’m waiting for! Don’t you think I deserve to know why she suddenly wanted to be separated from me? She is my wife, Sarah.”

He is a mess, has been since one day he came home and found Y/N’s suitcase gone with some of her stuff, a note on the fridge.

“I need some time to think things through. I’m staying at my brother’s.”

That’s it, nothing more. When he frantically called her, she could barely get a few words out, just told him that she needs time and she wants to be separated for a while. She didn’t say why, she didn’t say how long and Harry could barely get him to accept it, but he wanted her back, so he knew he would have to do what she asked.

It’s been one month and Harry barely heard from Y/N. They exchanged a few occasional texts about technical things, but nothing more. Harry has been in the dark ever since and he is reaching the end of his limit.

“I know and I’m sorry,” Sarah softly says as she takes James from Mitch. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Harry’s eyes snap at her.

“So you know why she’s doing it?” he asks with wide eyes. Sarah opens her mouth and closes right away as she realizes how she just gave herself away. “Sarah, you need to tell me.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Please, I’m begging you.”

“H, stop,” Mitch places a warning hand to his shoulder as Sarah takes her bag and heads towards the door.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she sighs before walking out.

Harry stares at the door for long moments, as if he was waiting for Y/N to come back, but it remains closed. When he turns around to face Mitch, he looks like just the shadow of his old self. He is not himself without his better half and that’s Y/N.

“It’s gonna be alright. You trust Y/N, right?” Mitch asks, as he gently ushers Harry back into the kitchen.

“With my whole life,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Then trust her now too.”

Harry can’t say a word to that. His mind is racing, memories with Y/N and anything that could possibly drive her away from him occupy his mind, but he can’t bring up anything. He thought things were going great, they even talked about trying for a baby soon. She took a 180 out of nowhere and she is like an enigma now, when Harry thought he knew his wife better than anyone.

He keeps telling himself that he needs to keep his faith and believe that she’ll come back. But at times when she can barely speak a few words with him he can’t help but think that his marriage is falling apart right in front of his eyes and he can’t do a single thing about it.

The days pass by painfully slowly and Harry finds himself sitting on an emotional rollercoaster. Some days he can barely keep himself from calling her or showing up at her brother’s place to talk to her. Some days he fully accepts that he needs to wait it out and she’ll return to him eventually. And the day between the two might be the worse, when he can’t decide how he is feeling or what he wants to do.

He only hears about her from Mitch and Sarah, though they only throw crumbles of information about her. Harry hates that they are so good friends to her as well, because now it’s not in his favor. Though Sarah keeps it from him most of the time when she goes to see Y/N, Harry is not stupid. He knows they meet up regularly and he’s never been more jealous of anyone.

Harry plans out a birthday dinner for Anne and sends the details to Y/N as well. After all, she is still his wife and he knows how close Y/N and Anne are. His mother would have been disappointed if he didn’t even invite her.

He doesn’t get an answer though. Harry is tempted to ask her whether he should be expecting her on the morning of the dinner, but he talks himself down at last.

He invited all of his mother’s friends, his bandmates and anyone that matters in his mother’s life. It’s a bit of a surprise, because Gemma brings her to the restaurant, but she doesn’t know who’s gonna be there, so when she sees all the guests she is shocked and touched.

“Thank you so much!” she hugs Harry, tight and warm before kissing him on the cheek.

“Of course, mum,” he hums with a small smile.

He catches her looking around, as if she was searching for someone and his stomach drops when he realizes that she is probably looking for Y/N. She doesn’t comment on the lack of her presence when she doesn’t see her, but Harry can see the disappointment in her eyes.

Anne is still making her rounds of greeting everyone when Harry goes to the bar and checks up on the first round of drinks. The bartender is already finishing up the last few cocktails when Harry sees a familiar figure walking into the restaurant and his stomach drops before he even looks at her.

Y/N looks around hesitantly before she spots the group in the back, only after that does she see Harry standing by the bar and she stops in her tracks.

Harry is frozen, he wasn’t expecting her to come, not after she left him on read, but here she is, wrapped in her fuzzy coat and a black dress underneath. She shoots him a tight-lipped smile before approaching Anne who jumps into her arms when she sees her. He watches his mum hug his wife and a few months ago, this would be a lovely scene, but now it just pains him, knowing he doesn’t have the privilege to do the same.

He can’t hear what they talk about and he fights the urge to lurk closer as he returns to the table and takes his seat next to his sister.

“You’re not gonna make a scene, right?” Gemma leans over to him.

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know, you’re staring at her like a maniac.”

“Oh, piss off!” he rolls his eyes at his sister. “I haven’t seen her in weeks, of course I’m gonna stare,” he mumbles, just when the waiter places his cocktail in front of him. He grabs the drink in an instant and chugs down half of it at once. “I’m watching my own wife like a stalker. Pathetic,” he whispers, more to himself than to Gemma, but she catches his words clearly. Reaching over he gives his hand a squeeze.

“It’s gonna be alright.”

“Are you a traitor too and you know why she is doing it?” Harry scoffs.

“She didn’t tell me. But I know you both and I know that she loves you,” Gemma says.

“So then what do you think is happening? If she loves me, why can’t she tell me—“ Harry cuts him off when he realizes that he is talking a bit too loud. He clears his throat, making it sure no one was listening, but everyone seems too busy to pay attention to the siblings. “She is not talking to me, so I must have done something, but if she doesn’t tell me, I can’t make it right,” he continues, keeping his voice down.

“Maybe… you can’t make it right.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he frowns. “If I did something so terrible, I would know about that, don’t you think?”

“Then maybe it’s not something you did,” she shrugs. “She asked for time, just give her that.”

“I’m fucking done with everyone telling me the same thing,” he growls and stands from the table and steps out to the back area that’s reserved for smoking, feeling several stares on his back as he exits.

He knows he shouldn’t have left like that, but he was losing his temper and he truly didn’t want to cause a scene, not on his mother’s birthday. If he smoked, he would be lighting a cigarette vigorously right now, but he is just staring up at the dark sky as he is waiting for his anger to die down. He hears the door open close and when he looks behind him, he sees Anne approaching him.

“Hey baby, everything alright?” she asks and as she reaches him she brushes a few curls out of his forehead.

“M’sorry, just needed some air.”

Anne nods, knowing well what he meant by that. She hates to see him like this, so broken and lost, but she can’t help him this time. Not in this fight.

“I think it’s a first step that she came. She knew you’d be here, but she still came. Why don’t you come back and show her that you appreciate her presence. That you’re happy she’s here.”

“I am happy that she’s here, but it’s still hard to be around her,” he exhales tiredly.

“I know, baby,” she nods. “But you have to be strong. I know you can do it. She needs you.”

“Does she? She is shutting me out, mum,” he scoffs.

“She needs you to support her by giving her time and space. I know it’s hard to do it, but she told you what she needs.”

Harry sighs and nods.

“Let’s go back,” he mumbles. Anne smiles up at him and kisses his cheek before the two of them return to the table.

Harry tries his best not to stare at Y/N for the rest of the dinner. She sits on the opposite end of the long table between two of his cousins. She seems less bubbly and lively than usual, but that’s all Harry can notice from the handful of stolen glances he allows himself throughout the evening. He’s heard the same thing so many times from different people that he just needs to give her what she asked for, but hearing it from his mother it finally sinks in. His patience that’s been shortening with every day spent apart suddenly becomes never ending and he realizes he’ll just have to wait for as long as she needs him to.

When the guests are starting to leave one by one, Harry can’t help but keep an eye on Y/N. When he sees her getting ready to leave he decides it’s time to get moving as well. He approaches her, making sure he doesn’t get too close so he is not scaring her away.

“Hey,” he softly says and she looks up with doe eyes.

“Hi,” she breathes out as she grabs her coat from the rack behind her.

“Let me help,” he offers and she hesitates before letting him take the coat and help it onto her.

“Thanks. And… for inviting me as well. I’m sorry I didn’t answer, I just—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m just glad you came. My mum too,” he adds with a tiny chuckle. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, I have to be up early tomorrow. It’s great that I can just walk home from here.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, trying to decide whether to ask her what he’s been planning all evening and at last he just shoots his shot.

“Can I walk you home?”

Her lips part as she stares back at him and Harry knows she is about to reject him, but he speaks up first.

“We don’t have to talk. Just let me make sure you get home safe. Please, Y/N. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

She clenches her jaw and stares back at him for what feels like forever and Harry is already bracing himself to get rejected, but then she nods.

“Okay. But I really don’t want to talk.”

“No talking. Not even a word,” he agrees eagerly, feeling like on top of the world. “Let me just pay the bill.”

He practically runs to settle the check, paying for everyone’s dinner and drinks. He keeps looking back to check if she’s still there and hasn’t left without him. She’s talking to Gemma, patiently waiting for him.

He grabs his coat too and then returns to her as fast as possible.

“It was nice seeing you, Gem,” she smiles. Gemma’s eyes move from her to Harry, a curious, questioning look, but she doesn’t comment on why Y/N’s leaving with him.

“You too. Take care,” Gemma smiles before returning to the remaining few guests.

They say goodbye to Anne as well, Harry tells his mum to stay for as long as she wants with her girlfriends, he paid for a few more drinks in advance. She thanks him everything and Harry doesn’t miss the smile on her lips when she sees him leave with Y/N.

It’s tempting to break his promise, but Harry keeps his mouth shut as they walk next to each other. Y/N’s brother’s apartment is just a few blocks away from the restaurant. It could have been a mere coincidence, but Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t think about how she might be more likely to come if she didn’t have to travel too far.

He is nervously fidgeting in his pockets as they are walking in silence. The walk is about fifteen minutes and he feels like a clock is ticking above his head, counting down the time he gets to spend physically close to her. When he spots the building that’s their destination, he is trying his best to push down his panic at the thought of not seeing her again for weeks. They’re almost there when he breaks his promise.

“You looked beautiful tonight, by the way.”

He awaits his punishment for speaking, expecting her to tell him off or just speed walk into the building, but her actual reaction is a total shocker.

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I knew you wouldn’t make it,” she sighs, but doesn’t sound upset.

“You know me too well,” he chuckles, but his heart drops when he realizes that they arrived. Taking a deep breath he just continues to talk. “I’m sorry for the scene last time. I was just not expecting to see you and I panicked.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t handle it too well either, so… I’m sorry too.”

Harry waits a few seconds, hoping that she might tell him more, but he is out of luck again. Tonight won’t be the one where she finally explains it all to him and he needs to accept it.

“I’ll give you the time and space you asked for under one condition,” he says. She inhales shakily.

“What’s the condition?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me when you’re ready. I need to know that I will get my answers. It doesn’t matter when, whenever you want to.”

She curls her lips into her mouth as she looks to the side, folding her arms on her chest. When she looks back at him he holds his breath until she finally speaks up.

“I promise.”

Harry feels like he is breathing for the first time ever since she left. It’s a short relief, but he will probably think about this feeling for the next week.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “I’ll be waiting, Y/N. For as long as you need me to.” Chewing on her bottom lip she just nods. “Alright, I’ll go now. Thank you again, for coming tonight.”

“Bye, Harry,” she quietly says, walking up the stairs to the door.

“Bye, Y/N.”

Trouble in paradise?

Harry Styles tied the knot with Y/N Y/L/N just a little over a year ago. The couple had been going strong for five years when the singer popped the question and the intimate wedding was held exactly a year later. They’ve been praised as everyone’s favorite celebrity it couple, but their marriage might not be as strong as it appears from the outside.

A source close to Styles said the ex 1D member and his wife have been separated since the end of august, but there’s no talk of divorce yet. It’s unknown why the lovers decided to spend time apart, but fans have noticed that Y/N hasn’t been spotted anywhere near the singer lately. The couple is known to keep their private life hidden from the public, but they’d been spotted strolling around, running errands every once in a while. However, the last time they were seen together was back in July on their trip to LA.

While there hasn’t been any confirmation about the alleged separation, speculations have been thriving about the possible reasons behind the issues. Some even go as far as accusing either the singer or Y/N with cheating.

Thunderclouds are gathering over London when Harry is heading home from the studio. It’s been a long day, but they got a lot done and they might be able to finish with recording earlier than they planned so everyone can have some time off.

As he walks into the empty house he gets rid of his mask and kicks his trainers off, padding his way into the kitchen to get a plate for his dinner he picked up on his way home. He used to eat at the kitchen counter, because Y/N liked to bake or cook so she spent a lot of time in the modern kitchen that was formed entirely to her taste. He loved sitting on a stool and watch her work, they talked about their day and then Harry asked to help, but eventually, she would just tell him to leave, because he could never keep his hands away from her.

Now the kitchen reminds him of her way too much so he avoids spending time there. He pours the pasta to a plate, grabs himself a fork and takes his dinner to the living room, hoping to find something to watch on TV so the house is not entirely silent. He has barely dug into the food when his phone starts ringing on the coffee table. For a second he thinks about ignoring it, but then he catches a glimpse of the caller ID.

Y/N’s smiling picture is displayed on the screen and he barely drops the plate as he snatches the phone and answers the call.

“Y/N, hi!” he breathes out, his heart hammering in his chest. There’s a sniffle on the other end of the call and he switches into alerted mode in an instant. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Harry, can you… Can you please come over?”

He is already up from the couch, the pasta abandoned on the coffee table as he’s running to get his keys and put his shoes back on.

“What happened, talk to me! I’m on my way, just talk to me, alright?”

“Mason is out of town a-and I’m alone and the lights went out,” she explains and Harry doesn’t even need more. He knows she hates the dark and scared to even touch the electrical fuse, she always fears she would get electrocuted. The power used to go out all the time in their previous home and it was always Harry who had to check the fuse while she stood behind him, scared as if he was dealing with a bomb.

“Okay, do you have candles? A torch?” he asks, jumping on one leg as he pulls his trainers back on.

“J-Just my phone.” A thunder is heard from the other end of the call and she exhales shakily.

“Alright, put me on speaker, turn on the light on your phone and sit down on the couch by the window. The lights are on outside on the street?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then it’s not entirely dark. Great, just hold on and I’ll be there soon.”

They stay in call while Harry jumps into his car and speeds over to her brother’s place that’s your temporary home now. Halfway there the sky opens and rain starts pouring down. Arriving at Mason’s place he jumps out of the car and soaks to the bone in an instant as he runs up to the front door. Y/N opens the door right away and lets him into the dark house.

“I’m sorry f-for calling you, I just didn’t know—“ she starts apologizing immediately, but he just shakes his head, ridding himself of the wet jacket.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I’m glad you called me,” he smiles softly, even though she probably can’t see it in the dark. When he’s kicked his shoes off he runs a hand through his wet curls before turning on the light on his own phone. “Alright, where’s the fuse box?”

“Here, let me show you,” she says and holding her own phone she leads him to a little nook underneath the stairs. It holds a few brooms and cardboard boxes and the fuse box is on the wall across from the door. “Please be careful,” she says as Harry leans closer to take a look at it, holding his light next to his face.

She watches him fumble with the switches, turning back on several ones before the lights finally come back on in the house, relief washing over Y/N.

“There. It’s all good now.” Harry closes the door of the nook and turns off the light on his phone before facing Y/N again. Now he has the chance to look at her, she’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was once his, but she stole it from him a long time ago. It makes his heart flutter, knowing that she is still wearing his clothes.

“Thank you,” she breathes out relieved, but then her expression changes. “I’m sorry, I feel so helpless,” she says with a wobbling bottom lip and Harry acts without even thinking.

Stepping closer he takes her face in his hands as he shakes his head at her words.

“You’re not helpless, Y/N. A lot of people are scared of electricity, it’s a dangerous thing.”

“It’s not just about the fuse box,” she whimpers, tears rolling down her face, but he wipes them off right away. “I-I don’t… I hate it…”

“Come on, let’s sit down. It’s okay.”

He pulls her into the living room and they settle on the couch, Harry has wrapped his arms around her and she’s buried her face in his chest. He feels selfish because part of him is enjoying holding her like this, it’s the most physical touch they’ve had in a long time, but then he remembers how shaken up she is and his joy quickly gets pushed into the back of his head.

“It’s okay, baby. Just take a deep breath,” he gently soothes her, running his hand up and down her back and arm until her breathing slows down and she is not fisting his shirt anymore. “Tell me, what got you so upset, hm?”

She remains silent and Harry patiently waits for her to speak up.

“Do you think I’m helpless on my own?” she asks in a weak, quiet voice without lifting her head up from his chest.

“Of course not. Why would you think that of yourself?”

“Because… I can’t even switch the lights back on by myself and I’m an adult.”

“That doesn’t make you helpless. Everyone has things like this, I promise.”

“What’s yours?” she asks, finally lifting her head and looking him in the eyes. Harry hums as he thinks about what he should bring up.

“I don’t use matches, because I’m always afraid the fire might get to my fingers too fast and burn me.”

“Really? You never told that to me,” she says with raised eyebrows and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Because it’s not that important. Like I said, everyone has fears like this, it’s okay.”

He dares to brush her hair behind her ear and run his fingertips down the side of her face. He can’t believe there was a time when he took these tiny touches for granted, when he could touch her whenever he wanted to without overanalyzing what could go wrong.

She looks him in the eyes and holds his gaze for long moments. Harry is continuously expecting her to move away, to take the privilege of holding her away, but it never comes. He feels like he is the closest to her he has been since she left.

Placing a hand to his thigh she pushes herself up, her nose almost brushing against his and he stops breathing for a moment, thinking it was just coincidence. She’s still looking at him, one hand on his chest, the other one on his thigh while his arms are circled around her frame.

And then she kisses him.

They freeze for a second, both of them caught by surprise by the action, but then time keeps moving and Harry doesn’t waste a second of it as he opens up his lips and kisses her back fiercely, as if he was trying to make up for every missed kiss from the past months.

She moves up, never breaking the kiss, devouring her husband after the starving. She moves around until she is finally straddling his lap and he loses his control, his hands finding her ass, grabbing it hard and making her grind against him. She moans into his mouth and he swears he could come just by the sounds she is making. Her heavy breathing, the soft whimpers, he missed her so much, it’s a miracle he could hold out for this long without her.

He can feel how needy she is, how much she is seeking relief, but his conscious is still there in the back of his mind, telling him to be careful and he knows that if they had sex now, that might trigger her and she would end up pushing him away even more. They can’t take this step until there are so many unsaid things between them, but he wants to please her still.

Holding onto her hips he guides her until her core is pressed against his thigh and he urges her to grind against it.

She moans loudly at the sensation, her head falling back and he takes the opportunity to kiss down the column of her neck, tasting her like she is his last meal. She starts moving on her own and Harry lets her use him however she pleases, all he wants is to satisfy her. His hard cock is bulging in his pants, but he is ignoring his own desires, this moment is about her.

“Feels good, baby? Hmm?” he murmurs into her ear as she keeps grinding against his thigh.

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly, curling her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him tight.

“Use me, I’m all yours,” he growls, feeling satisfied already just by watching her.

The time spent apart seems to have one perk, Y/N’s orgasm comes fast and hard after months of drought, she comes gasping for air, clawing at Harry’s chest and shoulder, her face pressed against his, lips mushed together as he steals a few more sloppy kisses.

There’s a few minutes of bliss, she’s like jelly in his arms, his heart slowly getting back into its normal rhythm. He prays to stay in this moment for as long as possible, it’s the most he has gotten with his wife in months and he doesn’t want it to end.

But the cloud of passion slowly clears out of her head and she realizes what just happened. He can almost see the switch in her as she pushes away from him and climbs off of his lap, moving to the far end of the couch.

“Y/N, don’t shut me—“

“You should leave,” she cuts him off dryly, staring ahead of her.

“Let’s just talk, I can’t—“

“Harry, leave!” she raises her voice, jumping up from the couch, rubbing her face with her hands. “I need to be alone.”

“Don’t shut me out, Y/N. It’s not the end of the world, we’re okay, let’s just talk, please!”

“No,” she shakes her head vigorously. “I-I need to be alone. That’s what I want, I need to figure it out,” she says, but it sounds like she was talking to herself rather than to Harry.

“Figure what out? Just talk to me!” Harry begs her, standing up from the couch, but as soon as he takes a step towards her, she backs away, keeping the distance between them.

“Not now, please not now!” she whispers, a tortured frown on her face.

“If not now, when? I’m trying to be patient, but we just jumped at each other five minutes ago and now you can’t even look at me! I really am trying, but fuck!” he growls, running his hand through his hair that’s got messed up by her finger in the heated moments. “Y/N, we’re married! And you wouldn’t even talk to me anymore! How long are we going to do this?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, shutting her eyes tight.

Harry takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down and regaining composure before he speaks up again, this time with a lot more control over his voice.

“I’ll go now. But I want answers soon, Y/N. Do you understand me?” She nods.

Harry sigh, rubbing his chin as he walks out of the living room to put his shoes on and leave while Y/N keeps standing in the exact same spot. When he’s got his trainers and jacket on again, he is almost out of the house when he turns back.

“We’re married, I vowed to fight with you. But I can’t do that if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be fighting. I still love you and I would do anything for you, Y/N. Let me be your partner or… Or have the guts to leave me. If you want to divorce just say it. Anything is better than being in the dark.”

And with that, he walks out into the storm, leaving Y/N alone, just like she wanted.

It’s no surprise that Harry doesn’t sleep that night. He doesn’t even go near the bedroom, because he knows it would make him lose his mind. Sleeping there on his own has been hard enough these past months, but after last night… he knew he couldn’t take it.

He paces the floor, fills up dozens of pages in his diary vigorously, leaving notes he can’t even make sense out of minutes later. He turns into a hot mess and when he thinks about the last things he told her, he almost throws up.

Divorce.

He’s been ignoring this word like crazy since Y/N has left, because he simply couldn’t accept it was an option for them. She was and still is the love of his life, there was no chance for him to let them end up with ending their marriage.

But the way she’s been pushing him away actively probably broke something in him after having her so close and then losing her just seconds later. The words left his mouth before he even thought them through and he regretted them the moment he stepped out into the rain. Almost turned around to go back and beg her to forget what he said, but he just left.

By the time the sun comes up Harry feels like he has lost all of his sanity and he knows the only thing that would bring him even just the tiniest bit of peace is if he tells her that he will fight for their marriage and won’t just accept defeat that easily.

It’s barely past seven in the morning when he is throwing on a hoodie he found on the floor of the bedroom and he’s frantically looking for his keys that he angrily threw somewhere upon arriving last night, but his search is interrupted by hearing the front door unlocking. He sprints out into the hallway and almost trips in his own feet when he sees that Y/N just walked in with her own keys.

“Uh, I’m sorry, I thought about ringing the bell, but… it felt weird,” she explains, holding up her keys that still has that pink, fluffy keychain Harry bought her years ago.

“No, of course. It’s your home too,” he nods, still taken aback by her presence. “What—Uh, what can I… Are you…”

“I came to talk,” she says, dropping the keys to the side table and then nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of her jumper.

“Great! Amazing, I was… I was actually about to go over to you as well. Come on in, let’s… I’ll make us tea,” he stutters, heading into the kitchen with Y/N following right behind.

He puts on the kettle and she looks around before settling on one of the stools, watching him move around, grabbing her favorite mug and the kind of tea she loves the most.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, when he hands her the warm drink and takes the stool next to hers. Harry decides to just blurt out everything he’s been piling up since the last time they met, starting off with what he said before leaving.

“I don’t want to get a divorce, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said, I was just… mad and couldn’t think straight. I hope you don’t want it either, whatever we are going through, I hope we can work on it first before we call it quits.”

He is talking fast and he’s nervously fidgeting with his nails and she sees that they are completely bare. Reaching out she takes one of his hands and takes a better look at them.

“Your nails are not painted,” she observes.

“Because you’re the one who paints them. I don’t want anyone else to do it for me,” he softly says and she seems stunned by his words. Letting go of his hand she clears her throat and drops her own hands into her lap, staring down at them.

“I don’t want to get a divorce,” she then says and Harry feels like he can finally breathe for the first time in months. “But… I need changes.”

“Okay, what kind of changes?” he asks, ready to hear her out and do anything just to have her back. She exhales shakily and he can tell how heavy whatever it is that’s weighing down on her.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she admits, her eyes tearing up.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, we can figure it all out.” He slips off his stool and stepping closer he takes her face in his hands, his touch gentle and soft. “Tell me what you know.”

She nods, wetting her lips before taking a deep breath and speaking up again.

“I realized that… I don’t know who I am.” She is talking slow, thinking her words over carefully. “I’ve been Harry Styles’ girlfriend and then wife for so long, I slowly… started to lose myself.”

Sniffing she rubs her eyes before continuing.

“I have been struggling with this for a while, but I couldn’t figure out what exactly this feeling was, I just knew that something was off. We were on the move all the time, traveling the world and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything I got to experience with you. But… It’s all I’ve been doing and… I had plans.”

“Plans?” Harry asks.

“Like, before we met, I wanted to go to college. I wanted to learn and get a degree, but then I met you and we became serious so fast that I felt like I had to follow you to make it work. And… I got stuck in it and put everything else on hold. Now it’s been over seven years and I’ll be thirty soon and didn’t do anything that I wanted before. But then I thought about it… and I realized that I’m not even sure I want them anymore.”

Harry can feel a whirlwind of emotions raging inside him, listening to her, but he keeps his mouth shut and lets her tell everything at once before he speaks.

“I started to question everything. I had to realize that I have no idea what I want, I’ve been just going with the flow for years and I couldn’t even tell anymore who I was. I was the mysterious girl Harry Styles was dating and then I was known as your girlfriend and then your wife… I wasn’t my own person. I was always just Harry Styles’ someone.”

She takes a deep breath, wiping away a tear that escaped her eye before she carries on.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love being with you, I love you, more than anything. But I started to feel like I was just a… carry-on luggage, someone added to you and not an individual above all. Then you brought up trying for a baby and I think it triggered me. I was afraid that I would just become the mother of your child and lose the last pieces of myself, so I did the first thing that came to my mind. I ran.”

She looks up at him and sees how broken he is over her words, finally hearing what you’ve been struggling with all this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? Why didn’t you talk to me about all of these?” he asks in a whisper.

“Because I felt ashamed,” she sighs. “I’m living this amazing life, I travel the world with you, anyone would be lucky to live a life like ours and I’m here…” Her voice dies down and a sob escapes her lips. Harry moves out of instinct, cradling her in his arms as she buries her face into his chest. “I’m here whining about it. I hate myself for this,” she cries into his hoodie.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs softly, holding her tight in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she sobs uncontrollably, fisting his hoodie, holding onto him for dear life.

“I know. It’s alright. Come on, let’s lie down, I bet you didn’t sleep much either, hm? Let’s just get you to bed, you’re barely holding yourself up.”

He softly helps her off the stool and the two of them head up to the bedroom he avoided all night long, but returning with her in his arms feels more right than anything ever before. He sits her to the edge of the mattress and then helps her get comfortable before walking around the bed and taking his usual side. She moves over to him in an instant, her whole body gravitating towards his warmth and he welcomes her in his embrace again gladly, holding her wrapped tight in his arms, right where he thinks she belongs.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” she croaks out, her head lying on his chest that’s rising and falling in a soothing rhythm.

“No. Not at all. I just wish you talked to me instead of fleeing.”

“I thought I had to think things through away from you,” she admits.

“Why? Are you scared to talk to me?” Harry asks, his heart breaking at the thought of his own wife not trusting him enough to tell him what’s been bothering her.

“I’m not scared. I just… I honestly don’t know. I was afraid I would just talk myself out of it and dig myself deeper into this hole… I was afraid that I would want to please you so badly, I would agree to anything.”

“Like having a baby,” Harry adds, mostly disappointed in himself that he didn’t notice a thing of what was happening right in front of his nose.

He should have thought about her, she’s been bending her own life around his since the very beginning, always the one to work her schedule to fit his and he never even questioned it. He’s been a selfish bastard. He remembers her telling him about wanting to go to college when they first met, but then she didn’t mention it again and he just assumed she changed her mind. He assumed way too many things. That traveling around the world is all she wanted, that she was fine with the way she’s been perceived by the public, that she was fine with living the life he chose but she was just pushed into. So many things that he just turned a blind eye to, only because he loved having her with him all the time.

He feels like he failed as a husband, a partner, a lover.

“I do want to have a baby with you, Harry,” she speaks up, pulling him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. “But I don’t think I could be a good mother when I’m so lost about myself.” Her words turn into another sob as she starts crying again and Harry tightens his hold around her.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. You need to rest, we can talk more when you wake up,” he breathes out, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. She doesn’t protest or tries to talk more, and only minutes later Harry notices her body relaxing, her breathing evening.

She fell asleep.

Though Harry could use some sleep himself too, he can’t get his eyes to even close. He lies awake for god knows how long until he carefully gets out of bed, tucks her in and heads downstairs to let Y/N get some rest while he is raking his mind for an excuse why he let all of this happen knowing well he won’t find any.

He has never felt more ashamed in his life and it’s been like several slaps across his face, listening to everything Y/N just shared with him. He let his wife suffer alone and didn’t notice a thing for so long, while he happily lived his rockstar life and dragged her along without second guessing.

Hours pass by and she is still asleep when Harry decides to call Sarah. He sits by the kitchen counter, leaning onto the countertop as he holds the phone to his ear with a permanent frown on his face.

“Hey, what’s up?” she answers the phone and he immediately hears James’ playful babbling in the background.

“So you have a minute to talk?” he asks, not wanting to interrupt on precious family time.

“Of course, give me a sec.” She tells something to probably Mitch before moving to a different room where she can talk comfortably. “Alright, I’m listening.”

“I fucked up, Sarah, and I didn’t even notice a thing.”

Sarah stays silent on the other end of the call before speaking up.

“She told you.”

“Yeah. We had… Some things happened last night and in the heat of the moment I told her to have the guts to tell me if she wants a divorce. I didn’t mean it, so I was getting ready to go over and talk to her in the morning when she showed up here and told me everything. Now I feel like the biggest idiot in the world and I have no idea how to make it right.”

“Do you want my honest advice and opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Don’t make it about yourself. Yes, you made mistakes, she did too by not speaking up, but this is about her. What you just said, I only heard you talk about yourself. Focus on how you can help her finding herself and getting comfortable in her own life again instead of putting yourself into the spotlight.”

And just like that, it’s another slap across his face again. He knows Sarah is right and that she just gave him a pill that’s probably the hardest to swallow. He can’t turn this on him, he needs to put all his energy into helping Y/N find her peace again.

“You’re right,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

“I know it’s hard. She is going through a crisis where she is questioning all of her decisions, even the ones she made about you. But it’s normal and you’ll just have to support her through it, let her figure it all out without bringing yourself into the equation. You’ve been the center of her life for almost a decade, you have to accept that might change a little, but that doesn’t mean she won’t love or need you anymore.”

“Fuck, Sarah, when did you become a therapist?” he chuckles sadly, her words weighing on his chest heavily. “Did you go through something like this too?”

“Kind of. It’s hard to keep in touch with yourself when so much is happening around you. I had my own doubts about Mitch and our life too, but here I am, happily married with a baby. You’ll get through it too, you love each other and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

They talk a little more before her mom duties call her. Harry takes some time to reflect on everything he’s learned and tries his best to get himself into the right mindset to start this long process he is facing.

When Y/N wakes up he is right next to her, sitting against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. When he sees her sleepy face, he puts the phone aside and lies down on his side to face her.

“You didn’t sleep?” she asks groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“No. I had a lot to think about.”

She opens her mouth, but then closes, scooting closer to him.

“I’m so sorry, H. I didn’t react the right way and should have talked to you instead of running away.”

“Don’t apologize. We… we both made mistakes. We should talk about how we could move forward, yeah?”

She nods.

“First of all… Do you think you’re ready to come home? I really… I miss you, Y/N.”

“I miss you too and I want to come home. I thought I would be able to think clearer if I’m away from you, but it’s been hell.”

“Alright,” he nods relieved. “We can get your stuff today and move it all back.”

“That would be amazing,” she smiles weakly.

“I talked to Jeff while you were asleep. I can’t cancel the upcoming tour, but we talked about a longer break afterwards.”

“How long?”

“However much time we need, baby.”

“I don’t want to keep you away from your career.”

“You are my priority, Y/N. You spend years of your life dedicated to me. If I have to take time off from my career to make sure you’re okay… I won’t hesitate for a moment.”

“B-But I still don’t know what I should do…”

“It’s okay. We will figure it out and then I’ll make sure we can do whatever we have to do.”

She is touched by the way Harry is treating her. She was afraid she did irreversible damage to their relationship by leaving, but here he is, being so patient and accepting with her even after she shut him out so violently.

Moving closer she kisses him to show her gratitude, they wrap around each other, feeling contented that they are finally reunited. It’s all they both have been yearning for and this is where they belong.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

“I love you too,” he hums back. “I want to make you happy Y/N. That’s all I want, let me make you happy.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you. I just need to be happy with myself too.”

“Let me help you with that. You’re my everything, baby. Let me take care of you the way you always take care of me. I will always love you and nothing can change that.”

She just quietly nods, swallowing back a few of her tears before pressing her lips against his again and again and again, making up for all the time they lost.

Harry Styles is making a comeback!

The thirty years old singer is finally back in the business after spending two years away from the spotlight. When Styles announced his break from work in 2022 fans were terrified it’s going to be another never ending hiatus that ended One Direction back in the days. The singer wrote a heartfelt note to his dedicated fans that was posted on his Instagram, which has been silent ever since, talking about taking time to focus on his private life, family and friends. The announcement came right after he finished touring his third studio album and rumors were spreading about his marriage before he hit the road, talking about alleged cheating and a possible divorce from his longtime lover, Y/N Y/L/N.

However, the couple debunked those theories when Y/L/N was caught joining Styles on the first part of his tour. A source close to them confirmed that she returned to London earlier than her husband to enroll into King’s College London and start her bachelor studies.

The couple was caught several times during the singer’s hiatus strolling around London alone or with friends, seemingly making the best out of their time off duty. Styles has not made any official appearances since his last show and word has been traveling around the internet that even when he comes back, he will be slowing things down, making more time for his family.

At midnight last Monday a countdown showed up on his official website, followed by his first ever post on his Instagram since his break. It has not been confirmed, whether it’ll be a new album or just a single, but it’s been enough for fans to wake up from hibernation and pull out their colorful boas from their closet. The countdown is expected to hit zero at four pm on Friday. Stay tuned to find out more about the latest news about Britain’s number one man!

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

[datasoong47]

So, it’s actually even more recent than that. The longest-lived person in US history was a woman named Sarah Knauss, who lived from September 24, 1880 to December 30, 1999. When she was born, the US was 104 years old. It’s quite plausible that there would’ve been a few 104-year-olds alive at that point, meaning that the “third adult lifetime” would’ve started at almost the end of the 20th century! Someone born when Sarah Knauss died would only be 22 today!

Frustratingly, I can’t say with certainty that there were any 104-year-olds alive at that time. The 1880 census records do have a breakdown by age, showing the number of infants under 1, 1-year-olds, 2-year-olds, etc., up to 99, but then it has a single category for “100 and over”, listing 4,016 people in the US that year who were 100 or older, so it seems plausible that it included a few people 104+, but we can’t say for certain

If we exclude her, we find a woman named Margaret Skeete who lived from October 27, 1878 to May 7, 1994, or Ettie May Greene, who lived September 8, 1877 - February 26, 1992, both alternate contenders for that “second lifetime” (I used the Wikipedia List of American Supercentenarians for this, ordering the list by death date). Even if there weren’t any 104-year-olds, there would definitely have been 101-year-olds. So at any rate, that third lifetime is almost definitely some time in the 1990s

It’s unlikely to be later than Mrs. Knauss, but not impossible. A woman named Myrtle Dorsey (the 34th longest-lived American) died June 25, 2000, and was born November 22, 1885. It’s not impossible, but is unlikely, that there would’ve been anyone left alive at her birthdate who was alive on 7/4/1776, as they’d have to be 109 years old, a rare age to reach, especially in the 19th century, and then finally Maude-Farris Luse, who lived from January 21, 1887 to March 18, 2002, even less likely to have had someone alive from 7/4/1776 when she was born

[starryevermore]

Okay I am going to send a few so no pressure to do all of them!

💃🏻 ❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜🥺

sweetpea’s plan

let’s ride ✧ a biker!ari levinson series | ao3

request: okay I am going to send a few so no pressure to do all of them! 💃🏻 ❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜🥺 - @notrealllyhere

pairing: biker!ari levinson x single mom!reader

word count: 438

warnings?: petnames (sweetpea/lover boy), not proofread

“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time!” he said, picking up his book and flipping it open.

“Please?” you asked, reaching out, titling his chin up so he could look at you.

He groaned when he saw the way you were pouting. Damn you and you pretty fucking face. One look, and he would give you anything you wanted. But it wasn’t going to work this time. No sir. Nuh uh. Not a chance. No way.

He looked back down at the book he was reading. If he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t give into you. Right? But, it seemed, his lovely little Sweetpea had other plans. You came up to him, swinging one leg over his lap, then the other, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. You pressed soft kisses where his neck met his shoulder, slowly making your way up, your hands running up and down his chest. Instinctively, he reached out, grabbing onto your hips.

Shit, how were you so perfect?

“Please?” you whispered when your lips reached his ear. “Pretty, pretty please?”

“We promised Sarah—”

“No, you promised Bucky,” you said, nipping at his earlobe. “I had nothing to do with it. If it was up to me, we’d tell him I have a migraine or somethin’ and you gotta stay back and take care of me. Ask Jefferson to pick Liam and Daphne up, ‘cause we can’t deprive them of AJ’s birthday party. Then it’d just be me and you, all alone for hours and—”

“Sweetpea,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “This ain’t fair, how easily you affect me.”

“Hmm, I suppose I should make it up to you then, lover boy.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging into your hips. “A promise is a promise, sweetpea. And you know I always keep my promises…So, how ‘bout I promise that, if you go to the party and be good, I’ll ask Sarah and Buck to watch the kids and we’ll do anything you want, yeah?”

You pulled away, tapping your finger on your chin like you were thinking. He already knew your answer. “Anything?” you asked. He nodded, swallowing hard. It was impossible to not want to abandon his plans then and there. “Then you got yourself a deal, lover boy.”

You slid off his lap, making your way upstairs, presumably to get dressed for the party. But, as you reached the stairs, you looked over your shoulder and called out, “For the record—”

“That was always your plan? I know, sweetpea,” Ari laughed. “You’re lucky I love your plans so much.”

[artzee-bee]

Well, we tried | Benny Weir x Ethan Morgan x Reader

Fandom: My babysitter’s a Vampire

Request: “OMG, you write for My Babysitters a Vampire!!💕 Almost no one writes for them! Can you write a Benny fic please?❤️ Or maybe a poly fic with Benny and Ethan!”

Summary: You boyfriend, Ethan’s birthday is coming up so you and Benny, your other boyfriend, are trying your very best to plan the best birthday surprise you can for him but there might just be one tiny detail you forgot about...

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

~~~

Ethan’s birthday was coming up and of course you and Benny had to go all out for your boyfriend! Even though you knew he wasn't one for big celebrations, you couldn't let the occasion slide! You were putting together a surprise party with the help of the entire friend group.

“Alright, so I talked with his mom and she said it’s ok and we can stay the night. She offered to cook for us but like…” Benny took a break, looking for the perfect way to describe how he felt but when he couldn’t find anything, he settled for an exasperated sigh. You couldn’t help but laugh at the drama

“You want pizza instead?”

“Of course!” you giggled at his antics, reaching over to kiss his lips

“I’ll talk to her. You’re too nice to refuse”

“You’re the best”

“Don’t I know it” you smirked at him

You and Benny were sitting on the floor of your bedroom, making lists of everything you needed to buy and possible presents you could get your boyfriend, but mostly eating popcorn and vibing to your father’s old records. With Benny, a simple task such as this one always took longer than it should have.

The day of Ethan’s birthday, both you and Benny pretended to be as busy as possible. Of course you wished him a happy birthday in the morning when you saw each other and told him you loved him but afterwards, you made as many excuses as possible. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with your boyfriend for his birthday, but both you and Benny were incredibly awful liars. If you were to spend every free moment you had with E,like you usually did, one of you was sure to crack.

During lunch break, you pretended you needed to study in the library, but instead you sneaked out with Benny in the parking lot

“I kinda feel bad” you confessed “It’s his birthday and we’ve obviously been avoiding him all day”

“It’s for the greater cause, babe! Just think of his face when he sees the epic birthday celebration we prepared for him tonight!” Benny was swaying his arms in the air to emphasise the grandeur of the night you had arranged

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t have to avoid him all day for a surprise later in the evening”

Benny grabbed you by both shoulders so you would look him in the eyes

“It’s ok. Ethan isn’t the type to get pissed about stuff like this. It’ll all be worth it” he looked at you with love and sympathy. It was impossible for you not to melt when he did that. You nodded in agreement and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You melted into his embrace and he held you into his arms

“It’s all good.” he whispered in your ear. You smiled to yourself and planted a sweet kiss on his neck, as a ‘thank you’.

The day went on as scheduled. You didn’t share any classes with Ethan and you made sure to leave school as quickly as possible to avoid running into him. You made your way home and took a shower, your outfit already prepared from yesterday. Texting Benny and Sarah to make sure they had the last few details under control and you were out the door, heading towards Ethan’s.

His dad opened the door for you.Him and Ethan’s mom were on their way out for the night, leaving you, Benny and Erica to order the pizza and wait for a sign of life from Sarah, who was out with Ethan, distracting him. Soon after your arrival at the Morgan household, you phone beeped with a text from Sarah, letting you know they were on their way home. Benny was spying out the window, while you were doing your last checks

“They’re here!” your boyfriend yelled from the living room

“What? Rory hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Well it’s too late now for that!”

Together with your boyfriend and best friend, you made your way to the door and as soon as Ethan cracked it open… “SURPRISE!” all of you, including Sarah screamed out loud. E looked at all of you and smiled

“Thank you guys, I really appreciate the effort but you are awful at keeping secrets” he said with a laugh, looking at you and Benny in particular

“What? You knew?” B said

“Rory told me” a couple of sighs felt the friend group as they realised their mistake

“Just wait until he gets here!” You joke, going in to hug your birthday boy and continue the celebration as planned.

~~~

It was late into the night when E dragged both you and Benny into his room, saying he had something he wanted to say.

“What’s up babe? Are you not enjoying the party?” Benny asked, afraid of what the answer might be

“No, no! It’s amazing! I just wanted to say thank you guys, it means so much that you went through all this trouble just for my birthday”

“We would do it again anytime!” You assured him with a bright smile. E giggled and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head

“You are the best girlfriend in the world” he said, hugging you tight “And you” he continued, pulling Benny into a hug as well ���Are the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for” Benny leaned in to kiss his boyfriend before wrapping his arms around both of you

“I love you guys!” “We love you too Bens!”

[pomegranatebitch]

make it better, make it better

sambucky┃2k words┃mentioned civilian death

Summary: Sam comes home from a hard day of being Captain America, and while Bucky can’t shoulder the burden for him, he can take care of his boyfriend and show him he’s loved

((Just soft sambucky, Bucky taking care of Sam because he fucking deserves it))

_________________

“I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it anymore!”

Sam came bursting into their shared Louisiana apartment at a full 10. He ripped the wings off his back with such force Bucky thought he might break them even though he knew they were indestructible. Sam practically threw the shield across the floor like it had burned him, crashing it into the kitchen table.

Bucky quickly rose from where he’d been half paying attention to a late night Golden Girls marathon while waiting for Sam to get home. Blanche and Rose bickered quietly in the background while Sam huffed out rapid breaths, desperately trying to yank the suit off with shaking hands.

“I can’t get this fucking thing off!” He nearly yelled into their otherwise still apartment.

Bucky approached him tentatively, hands out but unsure what to do with them. “Here, let me help—”

“I got it! Just don’t— I…” Sam snapped but the fight drained out of him as soon as it had appeared. He stumbled to the living room and sat down heavily on the couch, his face buried in his hands as he hunched over himself. The soft chatter of the TV was the only noise in the room as Bucky stood frozen, watching Sam’s back rise and fall with slow deliberate breaths.

After a minute of dead silence, Bucky circled around the couch slowly, clicking the TV off and gingerly sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, leaving plenty of room between them.

When Sam finally spoke, his voice cracked with unshed tears. “I can’t do it anymore.” Even with his super hearing, Bucky had to strain to hear him.

Bucky nodded slowly, though Sam wouldn’t have been able to see him, still hiding his face with his palms. “Can you tell me what happened?” Bucky whispered.

At that, Sam laughed. But it wasn’t his usually sunshine-filled, pure joy laugh. This was dark, sarcastic. Exhausted. “What didn’t happen?” He bit back.

It took a minute and several more deep breaths but he finally continued.

“I was in Dallas on an emergency call, supposedly some threat against a Senator’s life and I got called in. Fuck, it was half pony show and half media circus. They didn’t need me there. They just wanted Captain America standing behind some politician trying to pass some bill with some agenda, hell I don’t even know.

“Then they had a press conference and stuck me in front of a microphone. Some reporter…I don’t know who…he asked why I’d chosen to stay there in Dallas rather than help with the evacuations in Miami.”

Bucky made a small, confused noise but otherwise let Sam go on.

“Apparently, while I was being paraded around for some asshole Senator who probably didn’t need any extra protection in the first place, someone set off a pipe bomb in a café in Miami. I didn’t even know about it until that reporter asked. They caught the guy in minutes but fourteen people were injured and one girl—” he had to pause to collect himself, “one girl died in the blast.”

Sam finally took his face out of his hands and turned to look toward Bucky. Silent tears were streaming down his face but his eyes looked like he was a thousand miles away. “I saw the news after the press conference, Buck. She was 20. She was studying aerospace engineering, had an internship at NASA this next summer. She looked—” a sob wracked his hunched frame, “she looked just like Sarah did when she a kid.”

At that, all the fight left Sam’s body and Bucky caught him in his arms, waiting to see if Sam might pull away and when he only curled around Bucky further, he pulled Sam even closer to his chest. Bucky could feel where tears were soaking through the shoulder of his t-shirt as he rubbed one hand soothingly in circles across Sam’s back, the other coming up to cup the back of his head.

Bucky didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say to Sam that Sam didn’t already know himself. Sam knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent the attack. Sometimes terrible things just happened, and there wasn’t a rhyme or reason why. People died in tragic accidents and no amount of superheroes was ever going to change that.

Even if he’d flown to Miami the second the blast went off, it would have taken him hours to get there and by then first responders would have taken all the survivors to hospitals and with the perp detained, there would have been nothing left for Sam to do but stare at the rubble.

Bucky couldn’t change the events of the day, he couldn’t make Sam not secretly feel guilty for the young woman’s death, he couldn’t shoulder that burden for his partner. But he could sit with him here in this moment and just hold him while he cried.

And so he did.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Sam’s sobs turned to hiccups turned to sniffles. Bucky just stayed there with Sam wrapped in his arms until Sam finally peeled himself off Bucky and rubbed at his eyes.

“I’m sorry I snapped earlier,” Sam whispered.

“Don’t be,” Bucky replied definitively.

“I actually…could use some help getting out of the suit.”

Bucky offered his partner a half smile and gently led Sam from the couch into their shared bathroom. He started running a hot bath, adding in the lavender oils he knew Sam loved best.

In silence, Bucky undid all the hidden zippers and buckles that kept the vibranium suit in place and slowly peeled it off Sam’s body, stripping him too of his underclothes until Sam stood naked and dazed on the cool tile floors.

Bucky stepped in front of him, studying Sam’s face, searching for every little emotion written across his delicate features. Bucky reached up, running a thumb across Sam’s cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear as Sam blinked his eyes closed.

With one last check of the water’s temperature, Bucky helped Sam step into the tub and get settled, Sam’s eyes drifting shut under the comforting heat of the bath.

Bucky dropped a single kiss to Sam’s hair before pulling back. “Come out when you’re ready,” he whispered, not wanting to break the calm quiet.

Sam just nodded and slipped lower under the water and Bucky took that as his signal to go.

It was almost two hours until Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and looking decidedly calmer and more present than before. Seeing the crisis had passed, Bucky unashamedly took a minute to admire his boyfriend, the planes of his stomach cutting sharply downward, gesturing to more, and his dark skin practically glowing in the soft light coming from the kitchen. And god, those arms. The things Bucky wanted Sam to do to him with those arms…well his brain was short circuiting a bit at the moment but he’d be sure to lay kisses over every inch of them as soon as he had Sam in bed with him.

When he spoke, Sam’s voice was still a bit gruff from crying hours ago and wow it should not have been as sexy as it was but it was doing things for Bucky. “I know it’s like 2am… but any chance there’s some leftovers or something in the fridge? Between the emergency call this morning and all the meetings and press conferences I don’t think I ever stopped for lunch. Hell, I’d bite into a raw onion right now just to get something to eat.”

Bucky laughed at that. “Slow down, Sammy. I’m sure we can get you something better than that,” he said, gesturing at the kitchen table.

“Is that—” Sam started, eyeing the mound of food that he hadn’t noticed when he came in.

“Two steak burritos from Delmar’s and a metric shit ton of chips and guac. Still don’t know why you like that stuff, tastes like baby food if you ask me.”

“Hush up, Delmar’s in sacred,” Sam said, already digging in to the feast while Bucky watched him with a dopey grin on his face.

Sam cut him a side glance. “Staring,” he grunted out between bites as he’d already inhaled the first burrito.

“Get used to it, Wilson.”

“Fuck, how’d you get it this late, I thought they closed at 11?”

Bucky shrugged. “You left in a hurry this morning, didn’t even grab coffee. If you’re forgetting coffee, you’re definitely gonna forget to eat. Got it ordered to here while I was waiting for you to come home.”

Sam finally paused just before shoving a massive tortilla chip in his mouth. “You ordered it here? Like what, on a delivery app?”

“You know, technology’s really not as hard as you think it is to learn. I mean, they make it easy enough for an idiot to use.”

“Oh so you’re finally admitting you’re an idiot?” Sam grinned.

“Your idiot,” Bucky smirked right back.

“Damn straight.”

Bucky eyed the empty tinfoil wrappers and crumpled paper bag, Sam having finished the meal in record time. “You sure you ain’t a supersoldier?”

Sam laughed, once again bright and warm. “Man, shut the hell up.”

“Make me.”

“Mm, that can be arranged.” Sam got up from his seat and the table and sauntered over to Bucky, still wrapped in only a towel that was slipping lower and lower down his hips.

The kiss Sam pressed to Bucky’s mouth was impossibly sweet, all the biting quips falling away as Sam pulled away, lingering just a hair’s breadth away from Bucky’s lips, nearly making Bucky moan in anticipation, though he caught the sound in his throat.

“Thank you,” Sam breathed. “For everything.” His eyes had fluttered closed but his brow was smooth and free from any stress that had craved it’s way there earlier.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Bucky murmured back. “Thank you for coming home to me.”

They stayed there in that moment, neither wanting to break the soft thing cradled between them, until a yawn forced it’s way over Sam’s face.

“Alright,” Bucky laughed, scooping Sam up with his hands under his thighs, Sam immediately responding by wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist and grabbing Bucky’s face between his hands. “Bedtime for superheroes.”

“Make me,” Sam joked, but the words were cut short by yet another yawn.

Bucky just snorted as he lugged his half-naked boyfriend back into their bedroom, depositing him on their bed and turning to rifle through their dresser until he found a soft pair of flannel pyjama pants and a light pink durag and tossed both to his partner. Bucky detatched his prosthetic arm as he’d recently started doing more at night and laid the vibranium arm on top of the dresser.

Crawling into bed, Sam let Bucky pull his back to his chest with one strong hand until Sam was snuggly positioned under Bucky’s chin, their legs tangled together under the covers.

“You got anywhere to be tomorrow?” Bucky asked, easily falling into their usual short nightly discussion.

“Uh, got a briefing at 2 with Torres, but I should really get up at 6 for a run and—”

“Take the morning off, Sam. You need to sleep.” Bucky squeezed the arm he had thrown across Sam’s chest a little tighter. “The world can wait for Sam Wilson for another couple hours.”

“But—” Sam started.

“I’ll make pancakes if you agree to sleep in.”

Well now Sam was backed into a corner. Everyone knew Bucky’s blueberry pancakes were things of legend. He’d once seen AJ and Cass wrestle each other for the last one before Bucky broke it up by agreeing to make one more.

“Fine,” Sam huffed, sure that Bucky could hear the smile creeping into his voice. “But I’m out of bed by 10 or you’ll pay for it, Barnes.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Bucky teased.

When Sam finally drifted off to sleep, it was with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and his heart feeling lighter than it had all month.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

The girl was about to launch herself at the liar and pound her into the ground when two strong arms grabbed her. She noticed the characteristic spikes on the sides of black gloves and stated to trash around. “Let me go you overgrown furry!” She screamed. “I will mix her face with the concrete until it’s nice and even!”

She tried to wiggle herself out of his grip. Most of the class surrounded Lila and were trying to help her. It only served to irate Mari more. She kicked her leg back, hitting Batman’s shin. It was finally enough to let her go. The girl fell down... right into the embrace of Chloe and Adrien who managed to get to her on time. The two blondes hugged her tightly. 

“There. It’s alright Goldie. You got her good. Rest.” The girl cooed and pressed her best friend to her chest, muffling the sobbing. Adrien was just silently there and hugged them both. When Batman tried to approach again, the boy sent him an angry glare. The warning was clear and the vigilante didn’t really need anything from the girl right now. 

After a bit, Mari fell asleep in their embrace. The stress finally caught up to her and she couldn’t hold exhaustion at bay any longer. Chloe easily picked her up and started to walk toward a taxi that was conveniently parked nearby, waiting for them. 

“What!?” Angry Alya looked from Lila who was now being cared for by a pair of paramedics. She turned to Commissioner Gordon who was discussing something with Batman. “You!” 

The policeman looked at her curiously. Alya continued her shouting. “You’re letting her go just like that? She just assaulted Lila! She might’ve ruined her modeling career! Arrest her!”

“Miss.” Gordon shook his head. “These are some of the braves men and women in Gotham, but I doubt any of them would dare to try and arrest her right now. They don’t get paid enough.”

“What?!” Several kids started to protest, but Gordon just ignored them and directed Harvey to start taking statements. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with these brats. 

--------

Bruce sighed as he exited the Batmobile. Almost immediately, he was swarmed by the rest of his family. Jason and Dick practically carried him, still in the suit, to the movie room. 

“Now, Ladies and Gents, we have some of the greatest shows for you. We call it… The Demon Trashing!”

What followed was a clip taken from monitoring in the anteroom of the CEO office in Wayne Tower. He watched as Damian, dressed in civilian clothing, and carrying a simple ninjato on his back entered the room. He walked around for a moment before knocking on the main office doors, but whatever answer he got seemed to have irritated him given the scowl that formed on his face. He walked over to the PA’s desk that stood there, but no one was here. After a short moment, one could see the elevator doors open again and a small girl in a smart outfit walked in. Damian dashed to the shadows before she had a chance to notice him. 

Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. He could already see where this was going. 

When the girl started to walk to the desk, his son suddenly reappeared with the sword drawn. He pressed the blade to her neck. From the angle, it was impossible to see either of them expressions. The man did not expect his son to kill a civilian for trespassing, but the amount of glee on Jason’s and Dick’s faces was suggesting that his headache hadn’t really started.

The girl suddenly grabbed the blade and pushed it away. Damian, probably acting on instinct, tried to cut her, but she just walked out of the way and disarmed his son before knocking him out. There was a short skip to when Jason and Dick entered the room. The small girl was clearly very much irritated with them from the start and when she reached her limits, she used a pencil as a projectile to open the elevator doors. 

A small smirk made its way to Bruce’s face when he saw her storm past his three sons, carrying the ninjato through a tissue. The video ended with Damian waking up.

“And that’s how Drake’s new PA trashed a certain Demon Spawn. I swear, she could probably give Luthor’s bodyguard a run for her money when it comes to being a badass” Jason commented on the silent video in his typical fashion. 

“Tt. She stole my sword.” Damian huffed.

“You mean the sword she later used to stab Riddler’s man before disarming him?”

“I still consider the best part of today when she called B. an overgrown furry,” Dick said trying to hold back on laugher.

“Wait. I have a new personal assistant?” Tim asked half-awake. 

“Yeah. She was supposed to be an intern, but apparently, Sarah hired her on the spot and quit.”

“Oh… Cool.” Tim said and took a swing from his gargantuan cup. 

“Did you manage to pull the video of her taking down Riddler?” Bruce asked.

“The cameras malfunctioned before she even entered.”

“It was me,” Tim confessed. “I was still in my office when the alarm sounded. I keep a separate copy of my suit in a hidden compartment. To save time I dressed there, but I had to disable the CCTV…”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jason shut him up. “I also got the part when Damian’s eyes roll back as my new screensaver.”

“Tt. You’re lucky I don’t have my sword.”

“Don’t think you’re getting it back any time soon,” Bruce said in a stern tone and sighed. “What exactly do we know about her?”

“She is from Gotham, but she lives in Paris for some years. She said she was practicing martial arts since she was five.” Dick started

“She is also one bada…”

Jason was interrupted by Alfred, who entered the room with a plate full of cookies and tea. “A young woman just called. She asked me to forward a message to young master Damian.”

“Tt. What is it?”

“I quote. ‘Good luck getting your sword back now. Police took it as evidence. Suck it, Wayne.’ I believe the woman was young miss Chloe Bourgeoise.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Bruce just facepalmed.

“No, you can’t break into the evidence room. You might jeopardize the whole investigation if you taint the evidence.” Bruce said in an exasperated tone. 

----------

It was late after midnight (or even early morning, depends on your definition) when the vigilantes returned from the patrol, only to meet Tim and Barbara working on something on Batcomputer in tandem. Whatever it was, they were completely devoted to it since neither realized they had company until Bruce made a coughing sound.

“Not now.” 

“What exactly are you doing?” The father inside Bruce resisted the urge to force-feed Tim some sleeping meds. 

“We’re doing the background check,” Barbara said while typing frantically.

“On my new personal assistant.” The boy supplied.

“oh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Like… from what we found she is either the worst bitch on the block or strongest badass around.”

“Langauge master Tim.” Alfred scolded him. 

“Sorry. But like seriously! There are so many contradictions.”

“Check this out.” She pulled out a scan of a letter. It was largely creased, but still perfectly readable. “Her adopted parents one day disappeared, leaving her everything they owed sans some of their clothes. It was like they packed and left.”

“You suspect a foul play?”

“I’m not sure. The investigation was a joke and so was the follow-up proceeding. The interesting part is the custody battle that followed.” 

“Jagged freaking Stone and Parisian Mayor.” Tim interrupted Babs. “It ended with a compromise that Jagged was lawfully named her uncle and Mayor became her guardian. She was the one who suggested it.”

“How can one be lawfully named someone’s uncle?”

“Apparently one can in France. Or they just made some concessions to a celebrity. Seen weirder things.” He shrugged. “She was also his designer for years now. You remember that mysterious MDC?”

“The one you used to fawn over?” Bruce asked.

“She is brilliant so sue me.” The boy huffed. “Also, it stands for Marigold Désign et Création. She runs an internet boutique where she takes commissions from both commoners and celebrities.”

“What does it have to do with anything?” 

“I’m getting to that. Gee.” 

“Maybe I will get there?” Babs tried to take over. “She’s been working part-time as a babysitter to get funds to buy materials for new clothes and received nothing but praise. She also became a class representative. A successful one at that. She also holds the national championship in U-17 Mechastrike.”

“How is that important exactly?” 

“You wanted to know everything about her B., so we are giving you everything.” Tim sassed

“Just… get to the important parts.” He shook his head. What did he do to deserve this?

“Fine. Her school records are a mess. Skipping that they wouldn’t hold to any official inspection, they straight-up contradict each other.” Tim waved his hand in some undefined gesture. “On one hand, she receives nothing but praise from the teachers, but at the same time, there are multiple bullying reports and even several assaults in here. Most of them were met with harsh punishments.” Tim opened a separate file. “Too harsh according to the school charter.”

“It didn’t help that the letter from her parents also mentioned these kinds of things.” Babs chimed in, trying to regain control of the tale. Bruce just gave an exasperated sigh. He just gave up and allowed them to solve it, mentally already cataloging the information. 

“Except! There were statements from several people that contradicted this. Especially Chloe Bourgeois. She said, ‘Puh-lease! Mari is the kindest doormat in the world. I was mean to her for years and she still welcomed me back with open arms.’ Given her track record, I’m inclined to believe it.” 

“There was also this Drama, capital ‘D’, with MDC stealing designs. Several tabloids caught the wind of it and it even led to the police investigation. Only after Jagged Stone intervened, the thing quickly shut up.”

“Now onto the juicy parts!” Babs smiled. 

“And that was what? An introduction?”

“Yup. She has a certified black belt in two different martial arts, is a master gymnast, has an IQ of over 130 and owns two separate businesses in Paris.” She quickly read. “As we mentioned, she is the honorary lawful niece of Jagged Stone, but also designed for Clara Nightingale, Nadia Chamack, worked with Gabriel Agreste, was offered an internship from Audrey Bourgeois before she became her ward. She was seen hanging out with Kagami Tsurugi, world-renowned fencer, and Luka Couffaine, the rising star under Jagged Stone’s tutelage.”

“That was fast.” Tim summarised. 

“Yeah. Also, she was adopted some nine years ago. She originally comes from Gotham.”

“Do we know her biological parents?” Bruce asked, getting serious.

“That’s where it gets juicy. When I tried to pull out her adoption files, the computer shut down to avoid detection. There is some serious encryption on it. Probably due to who her father is. We got some of it. She described her mother as ‘wearing an outfit that showed more skin than her beachwear’, so we suspect she was a prostitute.”

“Hm… It’s not unheard of. You say she was with her mother until she was eight?”

“Between seven and nine the file said.”

“Hm… Do you think she is a threat?”

“No. But I have a different question. Why didn’t the league investigate Paris’ supervillain?”

“We were made aware of him only recently, after what our satellites mistook for Poison Ivy attack,” Batman said in an irritated tone. The fact that there was a supervillain running around for close to four years completely undetected grated on his nerves. “Diana Prince has been investigating for some time now. She has it under control.”

“The only problem I see is that she is only sixteen,” Barbara pointed.

“I mean I’m barely seventeen and I ran this company for two years now. And don’t act high and mighty. You started playing Batgirl at fifteen.”

“Played?!” She screamed. 

“You wore a hoodie and carnival mask at first.”

This quickly developed into an insults contest until Bruce finally had enough. He just shook his head and left. Alfred silently followed him, carrying a plate of sandwiches. 

-----

The next morning, Mari woke up in her bed, with Chloe and her curled together in a mess of limbs and clothes. Of course, she panicked and jumped up, waking the blonde.

“Honestly, Goldie, five more minutes. I need my beauty sleep!” She murmured.

“Um… Why are we in one bed?”

“Because you fell asleep hugging me yesterday and refused to let go at any point. I swear I wanted to get a crowbar. Ridiculous!”

“Sorry…” Mari gave her a sheepish smile.

“None of that! You ruined Lila’s face in one punch. Adrien texted me that in the end she lost seven teeth and will require plastic surgery for her nose not to look like a mashed potato.”

“No…!” Her eyes widened. 

“Yup.” Chloe grinned, popping the ‘p’. 

“That’s awful! I can already imagine how much the class will hate me now! And the employees that saw this! There were cameras there!”

“Some people actually applauded you. It could be also because you called Batman an overgrown Furry though…” Chloe’s voice wandered off. Mari collapsed onto the bed, head buried in the pillows.

“Kill me…”

“Can I kill you with hugs?”

“Fine…”

When the panicking bluenette finally calmed down, Chloe got her to sit down and showed her the headlines.

Brave WE employee saves dozens of lives!

A hero without a suit!

Civilian stopped Riddler!

Personal Assistant takes down a dangerous criminal!

They were all overly positive and showed much support. Only one tried to vilify her based on Lila’s comment and her being punched, but it quoted Ladyblog as a reliable source, so it was dismissed. The majority of the comments were also positive. The ‘overgrown Furry’ was already trending too. 

Only one of the articles contained the list of names of people killed in the attack.

Ted Black - a security guard, put himself between the bullet and another employee Sigfried Osborne - a security guard, died when he tried to stop them from entering Molly Bishop - a PR specialist, called the police when she thought the guards were busy Heidi Dickson - a security guard, killed in crossfire Craig Lloyd - an HR employee, wrestled the gun from one of the henchmen before he was shot in the back. Ethel Arson - A lawyer, killed in crossfire Christian Thorn - a security guard, shot two of the riddler’s henchmen in defense of a group of hostages.

Their room had several live plants on the rail. Mari walked to them and allowed her powers to flow. Slowly, the flowers bloomed. She picked seven beautiful flowers and put them on the table.

“Mari… I’m sure they will understand if you don’t come to work today…” Chloe placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder.

“No… No. I won’t be scared into hiding by Riddler of all people.” She said with determination and some coldness in her voice. She stood up and walked to her suitcase. From there, she gathered a different outfit. Now she would wear a red shirt, a black blazer with the Ladybug logo on her right breast, a black pencil skirt, and black leather ballet shoes (she still hated heels). But the greatest change was her hair and eyes. She let go of her twin pigtails and allowed her wavy hair to run free. It was no longer black, instead turning dark blue with purple highlights. Her eyes also changed. Her bluebell eyes also changed. The iridescent green she used to suppress was now mixed with the normal eye color, giving an entrancing effect that was hard to stop looking at.

“It’s time to rock this place.” She smiled at her best friend.

------- (Play ‘Confident’ by Demi Lovato) --------

Marigold and Chloe entered the Wayne Enterprises in full stride. Flashing her pass, she got them through control without the queue or checking, much to the shock of the class (who still had no idea Mari was now technically their boss). Adrien showed the girls thumbs up. Lila was seething, but neither Chloe nor Marigold paid her any mind and guards didn’t let her follow them and straight-up kicked her to the back of the queue. 

Mari gave a nod to the receptionist, but they didn’t slow down. Elevator was about to close, but one of the employees held it for her. Once they entered, she quickly checked her tablet and the to-do list she had for that day. First stop: PR. Chloe was going to HR to receive a new mentor after… the previous day.

When she entered the Public Relations department, Mari didn’t stop to chat with the employee that looked at her in awe. Her goal was the department’s head office and that’s where she would go. Gently knocking on the doors before entering, she pushed the doors. While she was smiling kindly, her whole posture screamed professional. 

“Hello. Mr. Drake will need the Friday press conference plan adjusted in response to what happened yesterday. There needs to be a mention of the event, as we won’t want to sound too detached. The press would tear us apart. Some gesture to show the public that we care…”

“Maybe a memory board in the lobby? And perhaps schedule Mr. Drake to visit each of the families somewhere next week?”

“I think it will be okay…” For a short moment, Mari allowed her confidence to drop, but she quickly gathered herself and made a note in her calendar. 

“If that’s all…”

“I will also need a press statement no later than by lunch.” She said quickly. “Make it a priority and forward it to me to read before you post it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man smiled. Mari was about to leave when he spoke again. “And thank you for yesterday. Many people owe you their lives.”

She stopped in her tracks, unable to say a word. Finally, she regained her composure. “Thank you. I… I’m coping.” 

As she left the office toward the elevator, Lila and Alya, who were interning in that department, tried to speak with her, but she didn’t even spare them a glance. Alya tried to grab her, but she was stopped by one of the older employees. As the elevator doors closed, Mari could see the girls receive a serious scolding. A grin made its way onto her face. Lila and Alya would have a really hard life for the next two months. Especially if she had anything to say about it. 

Her next stop was the security office. She entered it with a neutral expression, but it lasted only maybe five steps from the elevator. She didn’t tear up. She was a Gothamite inside. Right as one walked out of the elevator, there was a small bar, behind which a board was filled with pictures. Some looked really old, black and white or even sepia, while some others were high-quality and new. Roughly half of them were the clean pictures one would attach to a resume. The other half were profile pictures from social media. Or a photo that was taken in the forest. One was even a detailed drawing of a person. There were maybe fifty of them in total.

“It’s a reminder. Guards who lost their lives since the founding of WE” An older man said. “Silas Wayne started the tradition after he served in the Great War. You’re here for something miss?”

“Oh… Yes. The security on Friday press conference. We must increase it by about fifty percent. And make sure that only those with invites can enter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her.

“Um…” Mari suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. 

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.” He said in a comforting voice.

“Thank you, sir.” She allowed a weak smile to enter her face before she left. Only two more stops. 

The elevator next took her to the Legal Department. She had many things that needed to be done here. Chloe met her as soon as she exited the elevator. Mari managed to regain her professional posture and once more emanated the aura of confidence. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, but she was determined to show that she was okay. 

“I already forwarded your requests. At first, Madame McKinsley was reluctant, but apparently, our entrance is already the top corporate gossip. Good job Mari-bear.”

“Good. Thanks, Chlo. Now get back to work before someone sees me get friendly with an intern. I have a plan.” Before they separated, Marigold let a smile ghost her face. “One more thing. You’re free to unleash the foxes of war.”

Chloe lit up at that. Her whole demeanor changed to almost beaming light. She immediately started planning. Mari left her to the devious scheming and instead went to McKinsley office. The head of the Legal Department was a middle-aged woman with short, slightly graying brown hair and no-nonsense composure.

“Miss Bourgeoise informed me of your visit. I already had several documents prepared, but I will need clarification on several things.” She offered the young PA a chair, but Mari refused with a shake of her head. She opened her tablet and started to go through the list.

“First of all, the video that caused the attack was leaked by an intern. What actions exactly can be undertaken in response?”

“There are several options. We could terminate their contract entirely, but as it’s their first offense, it could’ve been seen as too harsh. It would also require to terminate all internships.” The woman was clearly unamused by the situation. Mari just raised her eyebrow and gave her a quizzing look.

“I’m not sure who in their right mind wrote their contracts, but when I track them down they are gonna get their ass demoted to toilet cleaner. It’s one big mess.”

“Don’t I know it…” Mari deadpanned. “So, other options?”

“We can move them between departments, so having them demoted to Toilet cleaners could also work, but it’s not exactly a legal punishment. The fact that it was Riddler really threw a wrench in any legal proceeding as he is clinically insane and the video was not directly calling him out and only speaking about him. I could give you the legal mumbo-jumbo, but the gist is that they are somewhat protected.”

“What about revoking their privileges?”

“Take that to HR.” 

“Will do. Now, about the next matter.”

“It was much easier. She can’t do anything to you, not even forward the bill. You were in shock and there are several recordings showing her taunting you. If she pushes it, she will lose. You’re a public hero right now. Good job by the way.”

“I was only doing what had to be done.” Mari brushed it, doing her best to keep a professional face. 

“Sure…” It was clear that McKinsley did not believe her.

“Now about the last thing?”

“Ah. The slander. I already directed it to our French and Italian departments, but it’s slow-going. That witch made it an international case. It will definitely bite her, but we have to be patient.”

“Brilliant. Thank you for your time.” Mari left the room with a grin on her face. Now onto the HR.

As she strode through the floor, people turned their heads to look at her. In the killing outfit, she looked older than she was and the aura of confidence and professionalism made her seem like a powerful woman. They had no idea just how powerful she was, but the way she carried herself was enough to make them shake in their shoes. 

----

When the doors of the elevator opened, Juleka and Rose were waiting for her. Both looked furious. Before either got a chance to say anything though, Marigold silenced them with a murderous glare that took away their voice. She strode past them looking fabulous. Any other employee removed themselves from her path to avoid her ire. The rumors were already circulating and the fact that she took down Riddler before Batman even arrived did wonder to her image. 

“Hello. I had an appointment.” She said when she entered the head of the department office. 

“Yes. Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was told you forwarded a list of topics, but an intern lost it.”

“Was this intern from my class?” She asked in a cold voice.

“Um… Yes actually.” The woman said after checking a small post-it.

“Then it was probably sabotage.” Mari spat the words. “I asked to have a list of possible punishments in regards to the newest intern group prepared. Two of them were responsible for the leak. Sadly, as one of them is the class representative, she is quite popular.”

“Ah. Well…”

“First of all, both Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi are to have all possible privileges revoked for breaking the rules. They leaked or were involved in the leak of video. Neither of them is to be handed anything more important than refilling a stapler or bringing someone coffee, to ensure they are no further threat to this company. They will also receive an official warning and an entry to their acts. They are also restricted to the lower floors. If possible, I want their access to electronic devices restricted. Maybe assign them a pager each so it doesn’t negatively impact their work.”

“Hm… I will see what can be done, Ma’am.” The woman replied, already going through her notes.

“Good. Onto the next business, while it pains me to do it so fast, we need to hire more security as soon as possible. But make sure to triple check their backgrounds.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And the last thing. Why was Damian Wayne allowed to bring a ninjato into the building?”

“There is actually no restriction on bringing swords ma’am. We’re trying to fix it, but we’ve been blocked at every turn even when Mr. Wayne was the CEO.”

“And whose permission is needed?” Mari allowed a small grin.

“Yours would do. Sarah was always too stuck up to even leave her desk unless forced so she didn’t care that much.”

“Consider my permission granted. Forward the paperwork to me.”

“And if Mr. Drake disagrees?”

“He can try.” She said coldly, remembering how close she came to being cut in half.

“Oh…”

“Last thing. When is the top floor scheduled for repairs?”

“It should be done already. It was made to withstand an assault from a much larger force, so we only had to replace the furniture. Following the instructions that were left, we repotted the plants into bigger and more decorative pots. As per your request, we added some more plants.”

“Thank you. Plants always calm me down.”

“I prefer cat pictures.” She pointed at the wall where a cheesy calendar with a cat giving her thumbs-up was hanged. It took all of Marigold’s willpower not to burst into laugher at the image of Chat Noir posing for such a calendar.

“Good. Thank you.” With that, she left. This time, Rose and Juleka did not try anything. They were too terrified of her. 

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

----

NEXT

[maoichimichi]

M・A・O in the "Aria the Scarlet Ammo AA" special event (04.29.2016)

　On Sunday, April 3rd, a special event for the TV anime "Aria the Scarlet Ammo AA" was held at the Ichikawa City Cultural Hall Large Hall! "Aria the Scarlet Ammo AA" was broadcast from October to December 2015 and reached the ending. At this event, which can be said to be the culmination of this, Ayane Sakura, who plays Akari Mamiya, Rie Kugimiya, who plays Kanzaki H. Aria, Ai Kayano, who plays Shino Sasaki, and M.A.O., who plays Leica Hino. , Aoi Yuki as Rin Shima, Emi Bridcutt Sarah as Rei Takachiho, and Junji Majima as Kinji Toyama as MC, and a total of 7 main casts.

　It took about 2 hours to liven up the fans who gathered at the venue at the talk show and the game arcade!

■ Even if you say something, is your partner the best?

　The guests who appeared while the event started and each of them showed their decisive lines. When all the speakers are on stage, the opening talk will be held in a friendly atmosphere and the audience will be excited.

　After finishing the title call, it's time for the first corner, "classroom". In this corner, 6 guests will answer the questions in advance by questionnaire. We announced the contents on the stage.

　In the first theme, we announced three "favorite scenes" selected by each of the six guests. Starting with Rei's "I love Akari too much" scene played by Bridcut, Yuki selects only the scenes where Kirin's chest and thighs are emphasized. Everyone, including M.A.O., who looks back on the scene with joy when he shouted "My daughter-in-law" on public radio waves about Kirin, all had "habitual" announcements, and it was a time when laughter was unbearable. rice field.

　In particular, the scenes of M.A.O. and Yuki-san are all scenes involving Leica and Kirin. Also, in the scenes selected by Mr. Chino, Mr. Kugimiya, and Mr. Sakura, laughter was born with the topic of "No matter where you choose, it's almost dangerous".

　In connection with the scene announced by Mr. Sakura, Akari said, "You said that you can't use the word, Aria-senpai, right?" I noticed that everyone decided to re-record the "impossible" part. "

　Next, in the second theme, "Characters I want to be war sisters" are announced. Here, there is an incident where the official combination of Akari & Aria (Mr. Sakura & Mr. Kugimiya) and Leica & Kirin (Mr. MAO & Mr. Yuki) are in a "unrequited love" state. occurrence. Mr. Sakura & Mr. Yuki who were abandoned by their companions lamented "I chose it properly!", While Mr. Kugimiya & M.A.O desperately explained "No! There is a reason!" There was also a smiley exchange, such as flirting with his partner for some reason.

■ Mr. Sakura, take off your shoes and go into serious mode!

　In the next corner "Training", Mr. Sakura & Mr. Kugimiya. Mr. Chino & Mr. Bridcut. Yuki-san & M.A.O-san make a pair and challenge 4 mini-games! Points will be awarded each time the game is cleared, and the team's martial arts rank will be determined by the cumulative total, and the Odaiba Cruise Pair Ticket will be awarded to the pair with the highest score.

　The game played here is based on the four departments that appear in the work: the detective department (Informa), the information department (Informa), the vehicle department (Logi), and the assault department (Assault). In addition to the fact that each one was a challenging one, we will compete with each pair in a serious mode that makes everyone forget that it is an event because there are prizes.

　In the "Detective Department", you can flip the answer to what has changed for the image that gradually changes in 60 seconds. Mr. Sakura took off her shoes, sat firmly on the floor, and was in a serious mode that clung to the monitor installed in front of the stage.

　In the following "Information Department", an unusual game that searches and investigates the question "what is the subject" in real time using a PC develops. While struggling with the difficult problem of only "images of objects like bean sprouts" as hints, only the pair of Mr. Sakura and Mr. Kugimiya finished the search quickly and got a big cheer with one correct answer.

　In the "Vehicle Department", a battle is held to break the balloons of the enemy team using a radio-controlled model with balloons and needles. In addition to desperately operating the radio-controlled models, Yuki-san was so enthusiastic that he stopped speaking.

　In the final game, "Assault Department", each person shoots a gun at a target, and the points earned are added to the points, and if they are removed, there is a big reversal of -10 points. In addition, it was the pair of Mr. Sakura and Mr. Kugimiya who became the bird and became a super advantageous situation at the time of the challenge, "just hitting them and passing the 1st place". However, Mr. Kugimiya, who was in charge of the first shot, missed the target, and the game changed from a marginal game, and the victory or defeat was entrusted to Mr. Sakura's one shot. Mr. Kugimiya gave a black joke to Mr. Sakura who was nervous and wanted to shoot, "I kept (the situation) warm!", And the venue was wrapped in laughter.

　As a result, Mr. Sakura and Mr. Kugimiya, who escaped the difficulties due to Mr. Sakura's success, came in first! The two of them were overjoyed with the prize, Odaiba Cruise.

　Then, in the corner "supplementary lesson" that concludes the event, six guests performed a recitation drama live. Five people who were asked to clean the pool by Aria flew the putty and played, Shino and Rei managed to voyeur Akari in a swimsuit, everyone got angry at Aria, everyone played in the pool together As the story unfolds and the reading ends, a big applause praises the six people. This story is included as a bonus of "Aria the Scarlet Ammo AA Bullet.5" Blu-ray & DVD, so if you are interested in the content, check it out!

　Thus, the event was over, and at the end, the seven people who took the stage gathered on the stage. We sent a message to each of them to decorate the ending of the special event.

Source: 声優陣が『緋弾のアリアAA』イベントでイチャイチャしまくる!? | アニメイトタイムズ (animatetimes.com)