#she lost balance at the end of this video and i had to feed her again after cus she was still hungry

[lonesomenecromancer]

moth drinking her little honey soup

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 23/2021) - Turtle Hatching

Foolish wonders whether to take Quackity’s offer and join him in Las Nevadas. 

Later, Bad guides two turtles through the ups and downs of their relationship as they navigate the turbulent and emotional experiences found in life, love, marriage and parenthood. 

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tubbo

Jack Manifold

BadBoyHalo

Michaelmcchill

---

- Foolish continues wondering if he should join Quackity. Whether or not Foolish joins, he won’t be done with his summer home. 

- There are good and bad sides to both options. Las Nevadas is both risk and reward, and Foolish is torn

- Knowing Eret, he’d probably tell Foolish not to join

- He also still has the deal he made with Ranboo about the shulker box

- Foolish finishes building the massive pyramid at his summer home

- Tubbo comes on to work on Bee ‘n’ Boo with Ranboo, getting materials

- Tubbo and Ranboo rob Foolish of a few blocks from his floor while he tries to render in the view from the pyramid

- Foolish goes to Snowchester to do some very mild griefing in revenge, breaking a few blocks from the floor and stripping many logs

- Tubbo and Ranboo go back to steal the beacon, but instead Tubbo just steals the same blocks of the floor that Foolish filled in

- Ranboo starts chasing him through the Nether. Foolish returns to the summer home to see that they stole some of his floor again

- Maybe this is why Foolish needs to change his ways a little bit, maybe join Las Nevadas for more balance

- He decides to take a visit. Maybe the Tubbo-Ranboo situation was the final push. Along the way, he finds that the portals have been messed up and deals with them

-  He knows the others like Puffy and Eret wouldn’t approve of him joining Q, so he won’t tell them. Foolish reaches Las Nevadas. He’ll stay here...at least for a little while

- Jack Manifold continues to work on his pub

- Bad adds a llama to his collection

- These llamas are the population of L’Sandburg. Some llamas will be the L’Sandburgian Army, others will join the L’Sandburgian Council. Some will be simple citizens

- He checks on the L’Sandburg nature preserve and thinks there should be more turtles. He burns his weednip and goes to find some seagrass

- Bad plays matchmaker with two turtles named Shelly and Sheldon, two turtles from opposite sides of the island. Sheldon is nervous about Shelly not liking him and Bad gives him a pep talk

- Shelly and Sheldon go on a date! It goes well! Afterwards, Sheldon is nervous about a second date, but Bad gives him advice -- if Sheldon gets so worried about it not working out, he might end up sabotaging his own relationship anyway

- Sheldon agrees, and Bad calls Shelly on the phone to tell her that Sheldon is interested in a second date. Shelly has moved house

- Michael logs on to build a house and Bad searches for nametags

- While Bad was gone, Sheldon gained his confidence and went on ten more dates with Shelly! They even moved in together, and Sheldon wants to propose!

- Bad gives relationship advice to Sheldon, telling him that Shelly probably doesn’t want a big public proposal as such an event might put a lot of unexpected pressure on her 

- Both people in the relationship should have some idea that a proposal might be coming soon so that both people are comfortable knowing that the other person will likely say yes. Sheldon tells Bad that he believes they are at that stage already

- They discuss ideal places to propose in a less public spot. Sheldon assures Bad that they both have a solid idea of what they want their future to be as a family. 

- Bad gives Sheldon a rose bush to propose with and sends Sheldon on his way, unbelievably proud of them both

- Bad asks Sheldon what Shelly said afterwards, and Sheldon says...

Shelly said yes!

And Sheldon wants Bad to wed them together! 

- Bad tells Sheldon that he would be honored to. Sheldon wants a sudden marriage so that they can become officially married and go off to live together

- Bad does the vows. The turtles both say I do

“Then, by the power vested in me through the Dream SMP and that shiny pyramid with all that shiny gold that I might take later...I now pronounce you both: a husband turtle and a wife turtle. Shelly and Sheldon, you may proceed to smooch!”

- Bad says his parting words to them and gives the couple some honeymoon gifts, giving them roses, chicken, and feeding them seagrass. He leaves, telling them to have fun

- Bad sings about true love for a bit, then goes back to find a bit of XP on the beach. He’s confused and goes to find Shelly and Sheldon, discovering that Sheldon has laid eggs and is now staying to guard them!

- Bad helps Sheldon guard the eggs while Shelly is away

- He then goes back to Shelly to find that Shelly went out to buy a carton of milk when she got lost. But when he and Shelly return to the eggs, they find that Sheldon isn’t there, so Bad leaves to go find him. He must have gone to get groceries too!

- Bad gently tries to get Shelly and Sheldon to stop yelling at each other in front of the eggs

- He protects the eggs and then goes looking for the two again, asking a cat in a boat if they had seen Sheldon

- Bad finds Sheldon swimming near the eggs. He tells Sheldon he checked her house but Shelly wasn’t there. He finds Shelly by the pyramid and is shocked to hear that she doesn’t want to see Sheldon anymore

- He returns to Sheldon, telling him he tried his best. Shelly needs her space and they need to take care of the eggs in the meantime 

- A wandering trader nearly destroys the eggs, so Bad murders him. He starts building an enclosure for the eggs

- Bad finds Sheldon and tells him that he’s getting frustrated that he’s taking care of the eggs and Sheldon’s off doing whatever he wants. He tells Sheldon that he’s a jerk and that he’ll keep watching the eggs, sending Sheldon on his way

- Bad leaves the eggs to look for Shelly. He finds Sheldon swimming near Shelly’s house, and is overjoyed to hear that Sheldon is hoping to patch things up with her. But he doesn’t think she’ll have him back

- Bad assures Sheldon that they’ll find her. He reminisces on Sheldon’s bachelor days, finding Shelly and bringing them both back to the egg enclosure. Shelly confesses to Bad that she’s worried Sheldon will still be mad, that she messed up

- Bad tells Shelly that Sheldon wants her back and acts as a mediator between the two. He gets the two to talk calmly with each other. 

- He asks what problems they have with each other. Sheldon is mad about the toothpaste cap. Shelly has a problem with Sheldon’s breath. Bad points to the fact that the two are holding flippers -- there’s obviously a connection here

- There may be differences in the ways they want to raise their kids, but there was a spark there, and the kids would want to grow up with both of them. Bad can see it in the way they look at each other, and nothing they’ve said is anything they can’t work on together

- At the end of the day, this relationship can only work if both of them are willing to put the work in, and it seems like both are willing, then Bad sees no reason why they can’t be together forever

- Shelly and Sheldon agree, and Bad is elated. He builds them a new room together. They’re going to be one happy family

- Now, Shelly and Sheldon are sharing the responsibilities of taking care of the kids. Sheldon tells Bad he’s worried that he won’t be a good parent, but Bad tells him that he can always ask for help from other turtles in the community for advice

- It’s going to be difficult, and Sheldon won’t be the perfect parent, but at the end of the day, he cares about his kids and that’s what matters. Everything will be fine

- Bad waits a long time for the eggs to finally hatch, but they do: 

The children are named Shelby and Snappy!

Upcoming Events:

- The final Egg lore stream

- Foolish’s date

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

- Sapnap’s possible lore stream

- Awesamdude lore stream

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

5/17 - Nothing much happens.

5/18 - Foolish makes a deal with Bad to sell L’Sandburg

5/19 - Foolish hires Punz to search for the nuke, DreamXD gives out player heads, the Badlands argue about weednip while planning for war

5/20 - Nothing much happens.

5/21 - Ranboo finds another Stronghold

5/22 - Dream writes Technoblade a letter, Quackity tries to recruit Charlie, Fundy, Purpled and Foolish to Las Nevadas, Ranboo creates a room for his experiments at the Stronghold

5/23 - Foolish thinks about joining Las Nevadas, Bad does matchmaking for turtles

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Accidental Feminist Icon

Between my own headcanon Barba becomes a very niche viral celebrity for being a mix of feminist icon giving one liners on the news and handsome/well dressed and the DJ Khaled post, this happened. 

“Counsellor, are you listening?” Olivia asked as Rafael Barba looked at his phone again. It had been months now since he started trying Manhattan SVU’s cases, and she hadn’t seen him this distracted before. 

“I just- why do I have rapid fire Twitter notifications? Over one hundred and fifty?”

“You have Twitter?” He rolled his eyes, not proud of the admission. But he liked to follow politics and music and satire. His colleagues would have discourse on legal proceedings and theory. But when he opened his notifications, the sea of professional headshots making up the icons in his notifications window were replaced by cartoon avatars and selfies. Handles like @Bradley_GreedADA were replaced with @feministkilljxy. 

What was happening?

Why were there GIFs of him now?

“Rafael?” He was snapped back to attention by Olivia’s hand passing over his phone screen, and he shook his head, holding the screen out to her. “What am I looking at?”

“Why have a couple hundred- are these all teenagers?”

“Are they following you? Or tagging you?”

“Both?” He scrolled through the mentions.

“Both.” A questioning look.

“Have I gone viral?” he asked herr, eyes wide and his tone disgusted. Twitter was where he posted law books, nice dinners out, homemade dinners in, and the nicer scotch he drank. Sometimes even pictures of himself; some of his friends enjoyed fashion as well, and their twitters all had a heavy thread of their suspenders and ties. Suddenly, he was having photos he’d posted to flaunt his ability to mix patterns retweeted in appreciation of something more than the color scheme.

“I think you have. What have you said now?”

“The girl whose tweet I keep getting tagged in mentioned Jocelyn Paley and the Adam Caine case.”

“That was seven months ago.”

“I’m very aware. I have to get to the office. I’ll get you that warrant.”

He continued to scroll as he walked, alarmed by the number of followers he was gaining and going to open a direct message from a friend to see a wall of messages from names he didn’t know. Once he was able to find Bradley’s message, he saw it was series of tweets with videos and GIFs of him on the courthouse steps. They were all from the same case, he assumed the Adam Caine case. He clicked the video of he and Rita Calhoun.

All I can say, today's Grand Jury indictment is the first step towards achieving justice for Jocelyn Paley. 

The DA's office is desperately trying to distract from their recent scandal with a high-profile case. 

Don't give me that--whether you're a john in the South Bronx or a $3-million-a-year talk show host, no means no. 

 He could remember the exchange now, and it had apparently been retweeted thousands of times. Cameras always made him determined to distract, determined to drive home a point. And now, he was seeing some group of teenagers had clung on to his words, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about becoming recognized enough by that demographic to warrant this rapidly increasing follower count. 

“Carmen, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mr. Barba. Need coffee?”

“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head and showing her his feed. “Is this normal?”

“They found you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Haven’t you seen the posts?”

“I don’t branch out on Twitter often.”

“I see it mostly, like, on Instagram with captions and people post clips of you on vine.”

“What’s vine?”

“A six second video app. Teenagers and young women post you. Vine is normally comedy. But people are obsessed with you. Niche, but sizable number. I think it’s mostly New York girls who see you on the news. But that means the vines went viral a couple months ago.”

“So now they’re all following me on Twitter?”

“You’re viral for being attractive, dressing well, and prosecuting rapists. Embrace it.”

“I can’t post my clothes anymore.”

“Just continue like usual. Don’t respond to DMs.”

He spent a few weeks terrified of this new following, but after three days, things calmed down. The number of followers he gained was weird and confusing to him, and he decided to listen to Carmen ultimately, keeping the profile the same and pretending nothing had happened. She did stop him one day, showing him that there had been people making fake accounts, yet another thing that was insane to him. She primarily told him because these accounts were attempting to take advantage of the fact young girls were the ones following him. He awkwardly slid the handles to Olivia, and Carmen filled out an application for Twitter verification that left him mortified. Even worse, it was approved. 

He was swept away in a case soon enough. Lindsay was assaulted by a whole fraternity at Hudson. They uncovered a previous victim in a hospital, a fraternity known for being a rape factory, and a dean helping create a culture that buried these attacks. It was becoming higher profile than he expected, and it wasn’t easy to try. He’d had to shut off his notifications on his phone during these cases. When Lindsay committed suicide, he accompanied Rollins when she went to arrest the dean. What he didn’t expect was for two of the women they saw to approach him, asking if they were here about Lindsay and thanking them when he said he couldn’t mention it. Then they asked for a selfie. Rafael was mortified but obliged. 

“We recognize you from Twitter.”

Well, now he knew he needn’t accompany the squad out anymore.

When he got tweets from the kind of scum that supported the fraternity, it took a concerted effort not to respond. That could jeopardized the case. He’d already had to tell the two girls they couldn’t post about him being there. He tweeted a disclaimer for if people saw him out, feeling like an asshole. Twitter was now becoming a liability, but he could balance it and refused to give up the feed. Slowly, the GIFs and stills of him on the news were collected, and he only got embarrassed again when mami’s students had discovered him and realized he was the guy in their principal’s pictures. Now Mami had a Twitter, and she followed people who praised him joyfully, though he’d managed to convince her not to interact in private messages or respond to people insulting him. 

The Jenna Miller case caused another leap in his follower count, and he had developed a little sense of pride instead of embarrassment when his followers jumped from people who mattered in New York to people who mattered elsewhere. A congresswoman from Ohio. Artists. Activists. He’d texted Olivia when Lady Gaga followed him. Plus that woman from True Blood. God, she was beautiful. Plus the hot boybander that had probably made him realize he was bisexual. It was weird, and he was unwilling to publicly acknowledge any of it. Unless they were on twitter, he certainly didn’t tell anyone he knew other than Olivia. Soon enough, someone had made a t-shirt on Etsy of the moment he’d turned on his heel. The media had called after Jenna, the olympian, and he’d told them no questions. Then the had the gall to bring up her sex work. He’d stopped on the steps, turning on his heel and announcing “Except for that one. Paid or not paid, no means no. Consent can be revoked at any time.” And now, Etsy users were profiting on it. This group was niche, but it ran deep. Luckily, he noticed the shop only had a few dozen sales.

Everything was fine until Rafael Barba lost his ability to maintain his composure. Up until now, he’d monitored his name, mentions, and a few hashtags people used with him. It was usually just the GIFs and stills and soundbites. He participated in some banter after the first couple of years, boundaries firm enough he felt he could. But he still didn’t bicker. Carmen said he got a following for being a good guy, and he thought it was gross openly condemning rape seemed to be all it took to be a good guy. But then through his lurking, Rafael Barba saw a tweet about DJ Khaled. He’d had to google who the hell that was, unsure who all of Twitter was piling onto, but he found the tweet objectionable enough to respond.

“Mr. Barba,” Carmen said, eyes sparkling with amusement as she came in to see her boss still scrolling through his phone. “You really decided this is the time to get involved on Twitter? You only ever respond to what people say to your stuff or your friends.”

He should’ve known she’d be on top of it. He’d given her access when notifications went through the roof the second time, and Carmen helped filter through DMs he didn’t want to see. But now, that meant her phone was vibrating like his in response to his first tweet in response to a stranger or someone who wasn’t in a thread under his own post.

“What? I’m supposed to endorse consent but not enjoyment?”

“You’re going to end up in a Buzzfeed article, sir.”

“If this is my legacy, so be it.”

“Your legacy? Taking it seriously now?”

“This is serious.”

Carmen’s phone buzzed in her hand, and she knew he’d sent another tweet. Her own account got notifications so she could monitor him. She sighed heavily, unlocking the phone and looking at it. 

“Mr. Barba, does your mom know you’re bi?”

“No, why?”

“She follows you, idiot.”

“Shit. Well, I suppose it’s time.”

“If you tweet Smash Mouth, I’m quitting. These kids are already thirst tweeting you. They must have tweet notifications on for you.”

“Who’s Smash Mouth?”

“How the hell are you culturally relevant?”

“According to Liv, I’m a feminist icon.”

“Don’t get arrogant sir. I help run this twitter.”

“I’ll change the password. I do all the posting.”

“I won’t tell you if Evan Rachel Wood slides in your DMs.”

“Why would I care?”

“I know why you watched True Blood.”

“Touche.” He paused. “Do you think she will?”

“Give me the phone. I’ll bring it when Liv calls.”

“Why would she call?”

“She made a Twitter, sir. Followed you last week.”

“Shit,” he said, eyes wide. “I posted pictures of my food. She saw me acting like a Twitter guy.”

“You are a Twitter guy.”

He rolled his eyes, ending with a retweet of his new favorite addition to the conversation. 

@mia-liz @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegirlwiththemaleficient-tattoo​ @teachingpanda​

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 112

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War --- tread carefully.

Steve landed the quinjet as Bucky and Y/N grabbed weapons. 

“You shouldn’t come in with us,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too bad,” Y/N responded, slipping guns into the holster of her suit, that was thankfully in the quinjet. “I’m coming.”

Bucky sighed before looking up at Y/N. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“I’m not the same woman. But…” Y/N stepped forward, took Bucky’s metal hand, and held it to her chest. “You’re still my Bucky.”

Bucky studied her eyes for a second before swiftly putting his free hand on the back of her head and pulling her in to meet his lips. She was shocked, not kissing back for a few, before remembering how much she loved the feeling of his lips on hers. He was the one to end the kiss, stepping away and breaking all physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Bucky apologized. “I’m not in the correct mindset.”

He quickly made his way over to the back of the quinjet, waiting for the ramp to lower. Y/N joined him before Steve left the pilot’s chair and stood in the middle of them as the ramp lowered.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” Bucky questioned.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, with a reminiscent smile.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Steve continued.

“What was her name again?” Bucky asked.

“Dolores,” Y/N responded. “You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are we, pal,” Steve said, clamping his hand on Bucky’s shoulders. 

The three of them looked at each other before Steve slipped his helmet on and they exited the quinjet. It was cold, the wind blowing harshly as snow covered the ground. Bucky led them to the entrance, set in rock. The door was open.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve said as they stared at the door.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky said. Both men looked over to Y/N. 

“Last chance. I really wish—“

“Save it Steve. You know I’m not leaving,” Y/N retorted.

Both men sighed. “Then no powers unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t need you throwing up in the middle of a fight.”

Y/N gave a small nod before Steve led them in, her in the middle and Bucky tailing. They entered a small elevator. She watched as the men nodded at each other while the elevator went down. Once it rattled to a stop, the men heaved up the doors. Steve held up his shield as the other two held up their guns, walking along a corridor, keeping close to a wall. 

The trio headed up a flight of stairs, Bucky leading, Y/N in the middle, and Steve at the end, when they heard a noise from behind them. They swiftly spun around, aiming down the corridor. Still keeping his gun up, Bucky gently pushed Y/N down so that she was more hidden.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded. 

The three held their positions as the creaking of the doors at the end of the corridor continued. The double doors part, forced open by Iron Man. Both Steve and Y/N stared in surprise. Tony walked towards them, retracting the suits helmet.

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented. 

Steve got up and walked towards Tony, keeping his shield up. Tony eyed Y/N who was slowly following.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve replied.

“At ease, Soldier,” Tony said. “I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. My girl friend also wasn’t at the place that I left her. Figured she was with you.”

“Tony—“

“Ross has no idea I’m here,” Tony cut Y/N off to continue. He lended his shoulder against a large cement post. “I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve said, lowing his shield. It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop.”

Steve signals Bucky to lower his weapon, in which he does. Y/N walked up to Tony, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Nat called and warned me. I had to come help.”

Tony stared at her, studying her carefully for a moment. He had a feeling for a few days now that something was up, something besides the Accords. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms. He held a kiss to her head. Bucky tensed at the gesture, which Tony noticed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Tony put his helmet back over his face and the four of them cautiously walked further into the bunker. The three men were positioned so that Y/N was in the middle of them. Iron Man was leading the way towards an enormous chamber with capsules standing in it.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony stated.

“How many?” Steve asked.

Tony paused before answering, “Uh, one.”

As the entered the chamber, the lights turned on. A hazy, yellow mist descended within the capsules around the room. Each capsule contained a soldier. They all looked around, bewildered.

“If it’s any comfort,” Helmut Zemo’s voice came over a speaker, “they died in their sleep.”

They all walked around, staring at the soldiers that had each been shot in the head.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo continued.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” 

Zemo appeared in the control room, through a small window. Tony lifted up his hand as Steve threw his shield, but it bounced back.

“Please, Captain,” Zemo taunted. “The The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorted. The four of them rounded the center consul so that they could be closer to Zemo.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questioned. Staring Zemo straight on.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“You're Sokovian,” Y/N stated, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“You lost someone?” Steve wondered.

Zemo, looking grave, clicked his tongue. "I lost everyone. And so will you.” A screen suddenly turned on, bringing everyone’s attentions to it. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

They all moved over and looked at the screen. The frozen frame of a secluded road and the date, December 16, 1991. Tony’s face helmet disappeared, his eyes briefly met Y/n’s before flickering back to the screen that began to play.

“I know that road,” Tony stated, anxiously. “What is this?”

All eyes were now on the screen. A car came into the frame, crashing into a tree. Y/N watched as someone road up on a motor cycle and got off. The Winter Soldier. Steve watched Tony’s increasing unease. The driver got out of the car, crawling on the ground.

“Howard,” Y/N gasped quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Help me wife,” Howard begged on the video. “Please. Help.” The Winter Soldier walked over and hoisted him up by his hair. “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Howard!” Maria called. 

Tony looked up and glared at Bucky, before his eyes found their way back to the screen. Y/N was unable to take her eyes off the screen, her heart began racing. On the screen, the Winter Soldier lifted his metal fist.

“Wait!” Howard begged, hand digging into his suit coat. “You don’t want to do this, Barnes. Look.” Howard pulled out the photo of him and Y/N dancing. “We knew each other… You know her… Remember.”

Y/N heart clenched as a sob torn through her. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to keep it quiet.

“Please don’t,” Howard continued. “Remember Y/N at least.”

After a brief glance at the photo, the Winter Soldier punched Howard over and over.

“Howard!” Maria called again.

Howard slumped over, dead. The Winter Soldier put him in the driver’s seat, face against the steering wheel. He walked around the the passenger side, where Maria was located. The Soldier reached in and gripped her throat, expressionless as he strangled Maria. The Winter Soldier then walked up and aimed a gun at the surveillance camera, ending the feed.

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly. It was the only thing she could hear. Her breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. Losing her balance, she backed up into the wall and slid down it. Steve kept his eyes on Tony, who lunged towards Bucky.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stopping him.

Tony looked at Steve, clearly consumed with grief and tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you know?” Tony asked, trying to control his emotions. 

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“Yes.” 

Tony stepped back, chin jutting up in a twitch. Looking over at Y/N, he sees her struggling with this as well, making him realize that she didn’t know either. Tony reengaged his helmet. He punched Steve to the floor and deflected gunfire from Bucky, disarming him. Grabbing Bucky, he flew across the chamber, slamming Bucky onto the floor. Tony pinned Bucky’s arms down but was unable to fire because Steve threw his shield at him.

Steve barged Tony backwards. Tony then shouldered Steve to the floor, shackling his ankles. Bucky came back up and punched Tony, who just listed him and slammed him against a machine. Tony raised a fist, but Bucky twisted it. A rocket shot out from the Iron Man suit, a fireball exploding. Steve sliced his shackles as a towering structure of pipework collapsed.

Barely registering what was happening around her, Y/N was quickly thrown back into her senses, as pieces of metal began to fall around her, boxing her into the corner. 

“Ah!” She screamed.

Bucky and Tony were thrown to the ground by the metal, not hearing her screams. Steve though, did.

“No,” he whispered. Steve and Bucky stood up, making eye contact. “Find Y/N and get out of here!”

Bucky nodded. He quickly found her, throwing the metal to the side.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N shaking in his hold as Bucky rushed towards the wall with the lowest platform. He hit a control panel, opening the over head roof. Tony shot at them, thankfully missing, before Steve landed in front of him. 

“It wasn’t him, Tony,” Steve stated. “HYDRA had control of his mind!”

“Move!” Tony ordered, hovering. He began to fly over Steve.

“It wasn’t him!”

Steve grabbed onto Tony’s ankle in mid air, smashing the bottom of the boot. They fought while Bucky was trying his best to make his way up the platforms with an almost unresponsive Y/N in his arms. He began to notice that the trembling was increasing and that she was sweating everywhere.

Tony unsteadily soared upwards as Bucky jumped across to another platform, Y/n still in his arms. Tony kicked Bucky down, causing him to let go of Y/n, who rolled away. Tony then took aim but Steve quickly jumped in front of Bucky, using his shield to rebound the energy back to Tony. He dropped, landing on a lowering platform.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve stated, helping Bucky up. “Go.”

“Steve, it’s too dangerous for me to take Y/N,” Bucky worried. “Look.”

Steve looked over to see Y/N shaking, with sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I’ve got her,” Steve stated. “Go.”

Bucky ran and Steve leaped over and shot a wire around Tony’s neck, dragging him down. Tony deflected Steve’s shield, before trying to target Bucky.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered.

“Targeting system’s knackered, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“I’m eyeballing it.”

Tony’s helmet retracted and he shut one eye, taking aim at the opening hatch. He fired, hitting the giant hinge and cutting off Bucky’s escape route. Tony then flew up, blocking two swings from an iron pipe Bucky was trying to use. Tony grabbed Bucky around the neck from behind.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony asked.

“I remember all of them,” Bucky replied.

Bucky pushed them both of the walkway. Steve jumped into them to deflect their fall. Bucky landed on a platform while Tony and Steve landed on the concrete floor besides an opening in the wall where snow drifts in. Finally hearing more of the commotion, Y/N pushed herself up, looking over the side.

“No,” she panted. 

The three men she loved most in the world where fighting each other and she had no strength to stop them. She winced as she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen. 

“No, no, no,” she whispered frantically. 

Pushing herself up, she shakily jumped down from platform to platform as the men still fought.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened,” Steve said to Tony.

“I don’t care,” Tony replied. “He killed my mom.”

The two began going at each other, with Bucky shown joining in. Y/N got down to their level as Bucky was blasted away from Tony, his metal arm blowing off. Tony zapped him again, throwing him to the side. Y/N rushed as quick as she could over to him.

“B-bucky,” she called, collapsing beside him. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky coughed up some blood. “Go,” he groaned. “You have to get out of here.”

“But you’re all killing each other.”

“And you shouldn’t have to see that… go… please…. I love you.”

“Bucky, I—“

“Go.”

With an unsteady inhale and a nod, Y/N opened a portal to the quinjet. She knew she couldn’t get much further than that. Closing it, she fell onto the ground. She had no more energy to move but her body still forced her to vomit. Y/N couldn’t focus on anything around her, black spots filling her vision. With one more heave, she blacked out.

~~~

Tony and Steve were both panting as Steve ripped the shield out of Tony’s suit and helped Bucky up. They began to walk away, leaving Tony on the ground.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” Tony said. “My father made that shield!”

Pausing, Steve raised his chin before dropping the shield. He walked around, with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, leaving Tony to stare at the shield. Panting, he watched it until something suddenly hit him.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “No.” He pushed himself up. “Y/N!” 

He called her name as she walked around, searching for her. Tony feared ash something terrible had happened to her or that she had gone with Steve and Bucky. He eventually, after almost an hour, gave up the search and headed out of the bunker. Tony was thankful to still see a quinjet here. As he entered the jet, he saw a body laying in the middle of it.

“Y/N… Baby?” 

Tony slowly limped over to her. As he drew closer, he noticed the blood seeping from somewhere in between her legs. He rushed to kneel next to her. 

“Honey,” he tried to be gentle but firm as he turned her over from the vomit she was in and patted her cheek. “Y/N, please.” 

But nothing. He quickly moved to find where the blood was coming from. There was no gash, no wound. As he ran through all the possible things, Tony’s mind came to one solution. 

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.” 

He hurried and got the quinjet into the air and set for the compound before getting out of his battle torn suit. Tony then took Y/N into his arms, rocking her as he begged for her to wake. 

“I can’t lose more than I already have… I’m so sorry…” 

Dr. Cho was already there waiting for the quinjet when they landed back at the compound. Her and her people rushed Y/N away from Tony. He watched helplessly, falling onto his knees as tears trailed down his cheeks. And he did the one thing he’d never done before in his life. Tony Stark prayed. 

“Please God… don’t take them from me… I’ll be better, work harder… I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Including my own life… Just don’t take them from me. I’m begging you… I-I-I didn’t even know… I didn’t even know…”

next chapter >

I’ll see you guys after Disney World! I’ll still be responding to asks and comments!

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[9worldstales]

MCU “Thor”: Who’s to blame for Thor’s banishment?

So I’ve seen around people blaming Loki for Thor’s banishment and…

… I can’t help but wonder if they realize that, by saying so they aren’t just pinning the blame on the wrong person but they’re doing a HUGE, GIANT SIZE disservice to Thor.

But let's list sources used for this first.

SOURCES MENTIONED:

Movies: “Thor” (2011), “Thor – The Dark World” (2013)

Comics: None mentioned

Direct-to-video animated film: None mentioned

Motion comics: None mentioned

Books: None mentioned

Novels: “Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor” by Alex Irvine (2015)

Webs: None mentioned

Others: “Thor” old movie script, Interview “Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR”, interview “EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!”, Interview “SDCC 2010: Chris Hemsworth Interview THOR”, Video “Thor (2011) Chris Hemsworth Kill Count”

Although “Thor” is meant to be an origin story for both Thor and Loki…

Kevin Feige: The movie, very much, is an origin of Loki, almost as much as it is an origin of Thor. We had to ride that balance. There were drafts where Thor took over too much, and there were certainly drafts where Loki became too prominent, and I think we found a nice balance that is clearly the origin of both of those characters. [Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR]

…the focus was mostly on Thor and his journey to learn humility.

I mean, this is not MY interpretation of the story, it’s basically what everyone involved in the production says the story is about. Thor is unworthy, the banishment is just, from it he learns humility and becomes worthy again.

Don Payne: Whereas we’ve got an extra-dimensional being once worshipped as a god by the ancient Norse who’s banished to earth and stripped of his powers to learn humility, all set amidst the Shakespearean intrigue of a dysfunctional royal family. You just have to find the things that make Thor timeless and relatable as a character. It certainly helps that he’s charismatic and likeable, albeit flawed. He’s banished for good reason, but I think people will want to go on the journey with him and root for him to find redemption — particularly with Chris Hemsworth’s performance. [EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!]

Kenneth Branagh: That story arc of the flawed hero who must earn the right to be king is in our piece, but what’s key is the stakes. There, it’s Europe and England, and here, it’s the universe. When that family has problems, everybody else is affected. If Thor throws a fit and is yelling at his father and is banished, suddenly the worlds are unstable. [Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR]

Chris Hemsworth: At the beginning of this film, he’s certainly a brash, cocky warrior who’s about to inherit the keys to the kingdom, and his father thinks that he’s not ready. It’s the journey of him learning some humility through the film. I think he’s one of those people who has his heart in the right place. He’s doing what he’s doing for his family and to protect the kingdom, and he thinks it’s the right way to do it. It just happens to be a very aggressive way of doing it, which probably isn’t the right way. It’s about tempering that raw emotion that he drives off most of the time, into the right direction. [SDCC 2010: Chris Hemsworth Interview THOR]

And in fact Thor makes a 180° turn from how he started.

The boy then man who insisted he wanted first to kill all the Jotun then give them a lesson is the one who sacrifices his chance to meet Jane again to save them.

Young Thor: When I’m king, I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all! Just as you did, Father.

and...

Thor: March into Jotunheim as you once did. Teach them a lesson. Break their spirits so they’ll never dare try to cross our borders again.

versus

Thor: You can’t kill an entire race!

The man who said his father was an old man and a fool, becomes the one who says there will never be a wiser king than Odin.

Thor: And you are an old man and a fool!

versus

Thor: There will never be a wiser king than you. Or a better father. I have much to learn. I know that now. Someday, perhaps, I shall make you proud.

The man who returning from Jotunheim was too busy to care for how Fandral got hurt so that it was Odin who had to say to get him to the healing room, is the one who, once back to Midgard, first worry about having his friends getting Heimdall on the healing room and then about what he’ll do with his brother.

Odin: You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom? Get him to the healing room! Now!

versus

Thor: Get him to the healing room! Leave my brother to me.

The man who thought his father’s lessons were wrong, then admits his father was right.

Thor: While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us. The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls.

versus

Thor: Neither did I. My father was trying to teach me something, but I was too stupid to see it.

The man who first was told by Loki going to Jotunheim was madness and did it anyway then tells Loki how destroying Jotunheim is madness.

Loki: Thor, it’s madness.

versus

Thor: Loki, this is madness.

The man who would start a fight just because he was called ‘princess’ versus the man who kept on refusing to start a fight with Loki even after the other hit him four times and only does so when Loki threatens Jane.

And then there are the comparisons that got lost because some scenes got cut. For start an even better comparison, in which another man calls Thor "Princess" and Thor this time refuses to fight.

Jotun: Run back home, little princess. [Thor stops in his tracks. Loki goes white. He knows what's coming.] Loki: Damn. [In one quick move, Thor pulls Mjolnir, swings it, and KNOCKS the Jotun clear across the plaza. The Asgardians reluctantly draw their weapons, gather into a circle around Thor. Volstagg looks around at the angry Jotuns approaching them.]

versus

Drunk townie: You were in the diner with that hot girl. [Thor doesn't like where this is going.] Drunk townie: I wouldn't mind her doing a little research on me. [He laughs. Thor is annoyed.] Thor: I have no quarrel with you. But she's a lady. You should be more respectful. Drunk townie: And you should shut the hell up, princess. [Selvig looks to Thor, concerned that he's going to lose it. But, to his surprise, Thor remains unaffected by the Townie's baiting.] Thor: I will not fight him. Drunk townie: Then it'll be easy to kick your ass.

Or like the deleted one in which Frigga said that Thor believed to be ready… when in the end Thor will realize he’s not.

Odin: Do you think he’s ready? Frigga: He thinks he is. He has his father’s confidence.

versus

Thor: There will never be a wiser king than you. Or a better father. I have much to learn. I know that now. Someday, perhaps, I shall make you proud.

You might remember Thor smashing a cup because he wanted another drink… well there’s a deleted scene in which, just before the Warriors Three and Sif reach Midgard, he brings a cup to Izzy in payback for the one he broke.

Thor: This drink, I like it. Darcy: I know. It’s great, right? [Thor hurls the empty mug at the ground, SHATTERING it.] Thor: (CALLS OUT) Another! [ISABELA ALVAREZ (60), the diner’s proprietor, glares at Thor from behind the counter.] Jane: Sorry, Izzy. Little accident. What was that? [He doesn’t understand. The other patrons stare at him.] Thor: It was delicious. I want another. Jane: Well, you could have just said so. Thor: I just did. Jane: No, I mean, ask nicely. Thor: I meant no disrespect. Jane: All right. Well, no more smashing. Deal? Thor: You have my word. Jane: Good.

Versus

As the group finishes breakfast, Thor looks at the mug in his hand, gets an idea. Thor: [About a cup] May I have this? Darcy: Sure. Thor: Thank you. Please, excuse me. [Thor leaves. In front of her diner, Isabela prepares to open for the day. Isabela sweeps the front porch. She looks up to see Thor approaching. She eyes him suspiciously. He offers her a MUG.] Excuse me, Isabela. Isabela: Oh my gosh. Thor: To replace the one I broke. Please, forgive me for my behavior. Isabela: Okay, thank you. Thor: if I may, I’d like to come back here for more of yours splendid "coffee". Isabela: Any time.

And then you might remember how Fandral was hurt in Jotunheim and it was Loki and Volstagg who helped him, while in a deleted scene we’ve Selvig being hurt and Thor helping him.

And so on and on and on.

Thor started one way, this caused his banishment and the banishment changed him.

If we go and say Thor didn’t deserve to be banished, that it was all Loki’s ploy, we ignore how Thor before was an unworthy person and after he became a worthy person. We turn Thor into a person who’s ALWAYS worthy, regardless of him acting one way or its exact opposite but for some reason was misjudged and punished unfairly and never really had to change because he was perfect as he was.

We turn Odin into a fool who punished a worthy son for crimes he didn’t do and then took the punishment back not because Thor changed, but because he realized he made a mess.

The idea Thor’s banishment is Loki’s fault is against the authors’ intentions, damages Thor by stripping him of his growth and, ultimately, it’s totally false, so trying to pin the blame on Loki so as to make him look bad is simply wrong.

Although Loki did some things that triggered Thor’s reactions, Thor wasn’t completely and utterly brainwashed. It was Thor’s decisions who ended up bringing those consequences and Loki had no idea Odin would go as far as banishing Thor.

In a deleted bit Loki says Odin normally ALWAYS forgive Thor.

Fandral: Well, if he doesn’t show up soon, he shouldn’t bother. Odin looks like he’s ready to feed him to his ravens. Loki: I wouldn’t worry. Father will forgive him. He always does.

From Thor’s reaction to his banishment it’s clear it’s the first time he got such a punishment and that he assumed all he had to do to be forgiven is to retrieve Mjolnir.

The novelization is not shy to say that:

Odin had always favoured Thor because Thor was a warrior, just like him… [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]

The Warriors Three and Lady Sif clearly follow Thor because they don’t think it’ll end up in Thor being banished for disobeying Odin’s orders even though they know he shouldn’t have done it.

This proves it was the first time Odin reacted as such to Thor’s disobedience.

But let’s dig more into the story.

Loki yes, caused the coronation to be delayed by having three Frost Giants sneak into the vault and attempt to steal the Casket.

His purpose was:

Loki: That was just a bit of fun, really. To ruin my brother’s big day. And to protect the realm from his idiotic rule for a while longer.

Loki has no reasons to lie to Laufey about this. The ‘a while longer’ clearly imply he didn’t expect it was permanent. If he had said ‘to have him banished forever’, it would have affected Laufey just the same, he wouldn’t have judged him worse.

Thor’s reaction to the invasion is entirely Thor’s.

Thor: The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done! Odin: They have paid, with their lives. The Destroyer did its work, the Casket is safe, and all is well. Thor: All is Well? They broke into the weapons vault! If the Frost Giants had stolen even one of these relics... Odin: They didn’t. Thor: Well, I want to know why! Odin: I have a truce with Laufey, King of the Jotuns. Thor: He just broke your truce! They know you are vulnerable! Odin: What action would you take? Thor: March into Jotunheim as you once did. Teach them a lesson. Break their spirits so they’ll never dare try to cross our borders again. Odin: You’re thinking only as a warrior. Thor: This was an act of war! Odin: It was the act of but a few, doomed to fail. Thor: Look how far they got! Odin: We will find the breach in our defenses and it will be sealed. Thor: As King of Asgard.... Odin: But you’re not king! Not yet.

Loki doesn’t even talk here. Thor, despite Odin thinking the opposite, insists they should just attack Jotunheim until Odin reminds him he’s no king.

This is relevant because if the coronation has concluded and the Jotuns had found on their own the way to get into the Vault, Thor would have waged war against them. This is what he wants to do and discussing things with Odin doesn’t change his mind, Odin merely forces him to shut up with his ‘I’m the king’ card.

Originally he would leave slamming the door behind himself, a sign he was still upset. We don’t see this, but we see him he’s still upset enough he turns a table upside down.

Then he has a discussion with Loki.

Thor: It’s unwise to be in my company right now, Brother. This was to be my day of triumph. Loki: It’ll come. In time. Thor: What’s this? Loki: If it’s any consolation, I think you’re right. About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, about everything. If they found a way to penetrate Asgard’s defenses once, who’s to say they won’t try again? Next time with an army. Thor: Exactly. Loki: There’s nothing you can do without defying Father. No, no, no. I know that look. Thor: That’s the only way to ensure the safety of our borders. Loki: Thor, it’s madness.

It’s true, if Loki had revealed he had been who orchestrated the break of the Frost Giants instead than telling him he also thought they were a threat, Thor might have calmed down. But this is not excuse enough for how Thor disobeyed Odin’s order, and only proves Thor wasn’t fit to be king right there because he insisted on going to Jotunheim even though Loki also reminded him this means defying Odin.

This is a serious matter but the key of it is that Thor wanted doing it before and still wants to do it now. He just can’t control his own wish to fight the Jotuns even if his father told him no. He’s not thinking. He’s not a common warrior, he’s the man who’s meant to be king.

If it takes him so little to wage war, then he’s unworthy of being king.

And does Loki really want for him to go to Jotunheim?

Not in the slightest, he knows it’s madness, in fact, believing Thor can’t be stopped, he tries to have him tattled out to his father.

Fandral: Well, at least he’s only banished, not dead. Which is what we’d all be if that guard hadn’t told Odin where we’d gone. Volstagg: How did the guard even know? Loki: I told him. Fandral: What? Loki: I told him to go to Odin after we’d left. He should be flogged for taking so long. We should never have reached Jotunheim. Volstagg: You told the guard? Loki: I saved our lives. And Thor’s. I had no idea Father would banish him for what he did.

In a deleted scene we see that as the group is about to ride toward the Bifrost Loki leaves them for a moment to talk with a guard. He’s not lying when he says he warned the guard.

The novelization digs a lot in how Loki didn’t want them to reach Jotunheim and in how Odin KNEW Thor would just do something, so it’s entirely possible Thor would have acted even if Loki had disagreed with him or had told him nothing.

“Why did he always seem to get into trouble because of his older brother? Wasn’t he supposed to be the wiser one? Odin has expressly forbidden that they enter Jotunheim. Yet it wasn’t the first time Thor had done something reckless. And it wouldn’t be the first time Loki was powerless to stop him.” [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]

Loki had made a decision. True, he could not dictate his brother’s actions, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to make plans of his own. As the others checked and double-checked that they had everything they would need for the journey to Jotunheim, Loki slipped away. When Loki rejoined the others, they were on their way to the Observatory. Hogun gave him a curious glance, but he ignored it. What he had done was none of their business. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]

They were on their way to Jotunheim. And what would happen once they got there was not in the hands of fate, but in the hands of his impulsive brother and his warrior friends. Loki would not be able to manipulate events there. He had to trust that the arrangements he had made would be enough for them all to survive. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]

Odin spent an uneasy night and felt no better in the morning. He had not seen Thor since their argument in the Vault. There had been shouting in the banquet hall as Thor told his friends what had happened, but Odin had heard nothing since. Frigga had tried to reassure him that Thor’s temper would ease and this would blow over, but Odin knew better. His son felt himself to be king already, whether the ceremony had been completed or not. He would take action. It was his nature. Odin hoped only that the action would not cause more problems than it solved. Just then, a guard rushed to him, and Odin’s misgivings were proved correct. Thor had taken his friends and journeyed into Jotunheim. Odin felt a deep well of fury rise up within him. Thor has deliberately disobeyed his orders. So, too, had Heimdall, who should not have let anyone pass on the Bisfrost – especially not a war party going to Jotunheim. “Tell the barn master to have Sleipnir and my battle gear to be readied immediately,” he ordered the guard. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]

Once in Jotunheim Laufey notices Thor wants to be there to wage war. He even warns him that if he keeps this up he would unleash something terrible… and it’s not Thor but Loki who accepts Laufey’s offer for them to leave, Thor doesn’t accept it even if they’re outnumbered and risk being all killed because, as Laufey said, he craved for battle.

Laufey: Your father is a murderer and a thief! And why have you come here? To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. You’re nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man. Thor: Well, this "boy" has grown tired of your mockery. Loki: Thor, stop and think. Look around you, we’re outnumbered. Thor: Know your place, Brother. Laufey: You know not what your actions would unleash. I do. Go now, while I still allow it. Loki: We will accept your most gracious offer. Come on, Brother.

Ultimately, even if Laufey and Loki had almost persuaded Thor to leave, all it takes is a small provocation and Thor starts attacking Frost Giants.

Jotun: Run back home, little princess. [Thor stops in his tracks. Loki goes white. He knows what’s coming.] Loki: Damn. [In one quick move, Thor pulls Mjolnir, swings it, and KNOCKS the Jotun clear across the plaza. The Asgardians reluctantly draw their weapons, gather into a circle around Thor.]

Loki is clearly not happy with his brother’s actions, he didn’t want this. It’s Thor who decided to do this anyway and, during the battle, we see that Thor is in a great spirit as he destroys a Frost Giant after another for a total of 145 Frost Giants (you can see the dead count in the Youtube video “Thor (2011) Chris Hemsworth Kill Count”).

Through the battle first Sif and then Loki TWICE will urge Thor to leave, they’re outnumbered they’ll end up getting killed if they remain there and it gets no better when Fandral gets wounded.

When Odin shows up Thor is all for continuing the battle.

Thor: Father! We’ll finish them together!

This is not Loki dictating his moves. This is all Thor and ultimately it’s Thor who argues with his father once they’re back, which is the last straw for Odin.

If Thor had kept quiet or had acted sorry Odin might have still forgiven him. He does not.

Thor: Why did you bring us back? Odin: Do you realize what you’ve done? What you’ve started? Thor: I was protecting my home. Odin: You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom? Get him to the healing room! Now! Thor: There won’t be a kingdom to protect if you’re afraid to act. The Jotuns must learn to fear me, just as they once feared you. Odin: That’s pride and vanity talking, not leadership. You’ve forgotten everything I taught you about a warrior’s patience. Thor: While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us. The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls. Odin: You are a vain, greedy, cruel boy! Thor: And you are an old man and a fool! Odin: Yes. I was a fool to think you were ready.

This is no Loki needling Thor, this is all Thor, this discussing matching the one he had in the Vault with Odin previously.

And, credits when it’s due, at this point Loki tried to interject.

Loki: FATHER-- [Odin turns with a growl and gives Loki a look which stops him in his tracks.]

Only at this point Thor will be banished and while yes, the way Loki chose to interrupt the coronation clearly had upset Thor and his words didn’t manage to calm him down, it’s also clear that not only Loki didn’t want for them to go to Jotunheim and almost get killed but that it’s Thor’s reaction to the situation that causes his banishment and that situation could have happened regardless of Loki having a hand in it or not.

Invasions happens.

The difference between “Thor” and “Thor: The Dark World” in which another invasion takes place, is that although Thor is always trying to disobey to his father in both movies, in the first he did it because he wanted to go at war with the Jotuns, in the second he did it because he hoped to spare Asgard from a war.

In the deleted scene for “Thor: The Dark World” even Odin acknowledges Thor was right.

Odin: I thought you’d been blinded by passion but in truth you were the only one who could see and you... did what needed to be done

His motive for disobeying his father in “Thor: The Dark World” is the exact opposite than it was in “Thor”, but if he’d been the old Thor he would have had no qualms to drag all Asgard into a war.

So yes, Loki set up the situation, but if Thor ended up being banished it was solely for his own reaction to the situation, a situation that could have happened in other circumstances.

Would Loki coming clear with Odin lift Thor’s banishment?

No, of course not, because none of Loki’s actions are what moves Odin to decide for Thor’s banishment. What pushes him to decide for such a punishment are Thor’s reactions to the situation. If Loki had confessed the most this could cause was for him too to also be banished.

And, to Thor’s credits, he grew in his banishment and became a better person. This is important, it doesn’t deserve to be underscored.

Also, as said before, Loki couldn’t predict the punishment would have been banishment and he didn’t control Odin either.

Not only Loki actually tried to stop Odin, but even Frigga in a deleted scene begged Odin to reconsider and he refused.

So yes, Thor’s banishment ultimately turned out to be convenient for Loki, but he didn’t deliberately orchestrated it, he didn’t plan that far.

So really, let’s just Thor have his moment of personal growth in which he becomes a better person in his own movie, let Odin have his own agency in deciding if to punish his sons or not and just accept the whole trip to Jotunheim wasn’t something Loki wanted nor Thor’s banishment something he could predict.

In short simply accept the story as its authors wanted it to be.

I get not everyone might be aware of interviews and deleted scenes but really, I would say the movie made the whole thing obvious enough to be understood just by watching it.

[sloggervlogger]

Introducing The Bristol Zoo Gorilla Family I do apologize for the late video today. I tried to get it done in time, as I really wanted this video out today, but unfortunately I was just too slow. I didn't have the footage which I wanted to include, so I needed to wait until I went to Bristol zoo again and today I tried to rush to get everything done in time and to get it uploaded. I got asked by Camelia D. if I could make a video introducing the family as she would like to get to know them better. I never really thought of it because I always wrote a detailed description, but yes that sounded like a great idea. So this is what I did and I put the names in the video and some comparison photos at the end. Hopefully you'll enjoy the video. First up it Jock the Silverback. Having a good yawn there and some close-up of him having lunch. Next up is Afia beating her chest balancing on the bannister. The female rascal version of Lope and we like to think she would be a match made in heaven for our Gorilla Lope from the Twycross Zoo. Next Touni with her baby Juni. Then Ayana, Touni's daughter, her first born. Kera is the surrogate mother of Hasani and she is also Afia's mother ( more on this in the bottom text). She has a bit of a hiccup sitting there eating her food. A close-up of Hasani and then he joins his birth mum Kala. At the end of the video some comparison photos. So you can see the difference. The first Gorilla arrived at Bristol zoo on the 8th of September 1930 named Alfred. The Zoo itself opened in July 11th 1836! The first gorilla birth was on March 6th 1971. Currently, there are 8 gorillas at the Bristol Zoo. Starting off with Jock the Silverback, he was born on May 31st 1983 at Zoo La Palmyre. He got moved to the Bristol Zoo on the 25.June 2003. His offspring are: Namoki, Komale, Kukena, Afia, Ayana, Hasani and Juni. Kera was born on August 26th 2004 at the Parc Zoológic de Barcelona. She moved to the Bristol zoo on the 08.September.2008. Her offspring is Afia. Afia was born by emergency cesarean section at Bristol Zoo on the 12th of February 2016 after her mother, Kera, showed symptoms of potentially life-threatening pre-eclampsia. She had to be hand-raised. Gorilla Romina took an interest in Afia when the keepers walked past her with Afia on their arms. So Afia was slowly introduced to Romina and in October started bonding with her surrogate mother. Kera did recover after being ill for a while but didn't recognize Afia as her daughter. Romina took over to raise her, but sadly they had to put her to sleep in Aug 2018 because she had an advanced large cancerous mass in her abdomen. Afia by then was part of the group and dad Jock and the other females looked after her. Touni was born on the 12th of December 2007 at the La Vallée des Singes and moved to the Bristol Zoo on the 28.September 2015. Her daughter is Ayana who was born on the 22nd of April 2017. On 22 December 2020, Touni gave birth to the second baby gorilla for Bristol zoo that year during covid lockdown and he was named a combination of his Mother’s and Father's name, Juni. Kala was born on the 11th of December 2010 in Hannover. She's the newest member of the group as she joined on the 16.October 2018. She was pregnant in Sep 2019, but sadly lost the baby. The cause of death is unknown. On August 19th 2020 Kala gave birth to baby Hasani. Unfortunately, she couldn’t feed him properly and is being hand-raised by Bristol Zoo staff members. In May 2021 Kera showed interest in Hasani and became the new surrogate mother of the little boy. By the end of 2022 the inner city Bristol zoo is closing and relocating some of their animals like the gorillas to the Wildlife project place which is just outside of Bristol not too far away. If you would like to see more of the Wildlife place they are moving to, you can watch this hyperlapse I have done on my travel channel: https://youtu.be/PUZ1F2dwhEE My Travel, Days out and zoo hyperlapse YouTube channel: https://bit.ly/WatchAndSubTravel Visit my website at: https://ift.tt/yaW0I2E Shop/Merch Links with worldwide delivery: rawshutterbug Redbubble @ https://ift.tt/coePO7T #AD #RedbubbleAmbassador t-shirts, stickers, apparel, homeware and much more rawshutterbug Zazzle: https://ift.tt/hGTD8YL customizable t-shirts, stickers, apparel, homeware and much more rawshutterbug Society6 @ https://ift.tt/9lHiuZV t-shirts, stickers, apparel, homeware and much more rawshutterbug photo4me: Quality wall art @ http://bit.ly/rawshutterbugPhoto4Me Amazon UK @ https://amzn.to/3hHPNGG #Ad #AmazonAssociate Amazon USA and other countries through my website @ https://ift.tt/eUwOb2K #SloggerVlogger #bristolzoo #gorillas #bristol SloggerVlogger

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {17}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Plot, Heavy cursing, HEAVY, HEAVY ANGST, Mild Time Jumps, MILD NSFW, LOTS OF WORDS, Triggering Sexual Assault Content

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY STRESSED!!

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY TEXTBOOK SEXUAL ASSAULT CONTENT BY DUBIOUS MEANS ON A MENTALLY INCAPACITATED INDIVIDUAL!!

Word Count: 6K

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill? 

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

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

-Chris-

In the last two weeks, he’d become a shell of himself. His life drastically changed. What was him working and traveling almost nonstop turned into him having a lot of time on his hands. Instead of traveling and having no time to be the husband he needed to be, he now had all the time in the world. He found it ironic now. Every time he stepped into your shared bedroom, he saw you everywhere. You were in the décor, the scents that still lingered around, and your items strewn around the room.

Every time he looked behind him or around a corner, he expected to see your smiling face. When he closed his eyes, he expected to feel your soft caress against his jaw or your full lips pressed onto his skin. He expected it, but the expectation was not reality. His reality was far different. His days now consisted of doing his best to keep on top of work obligations even though mostly everyone understood his need to take a step back from anything work-related. If he wasn’t distracting himself with work, he roamed around the house, being haunted by happier times. If he wasn’t glued to the bed staring out at your side of the bed, he was beating himself up over the fact that he’d caused his current reality and wishing he’d done so many things differently.

His mother stayed in town to be his moral support and moved in with Scott. They said it was just to be there for him, but he knew they didn’t think he was in any state to take care of himself. They were right. He barely ate, didn’t sleep, kept to himself, and found the sustenance he needed in beer and Whiskey. He didn’t care if they had no nutritional value; it was all he cared to ingest to his mother’s dismay. She cooked all his favorites from childhood, but none of it enticed him. What was the point, he wondered. He didn’t want lasagna or beef stew or meatballs marinara. He only wanted you.

When he pulled himself out of his internal turmoil, he was sitting outside of Christiano’s house and twisting the knife in his heart deeper. He wondered what was going on inside, wondered if you were laughing with him, or letting him hold you at nights. He couldn’t get the image of you kissing him in your hospital room or the elevator out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, it was what he saw, and from there, his imagination went rampant until he was filled with fear that turned to rage.

He’d stay in front of Christiano’s house for hours just staring at it. He didn’t trust Christiano as far as he could spit. He knew he was up to something, and he felt that somehow if he kept an eye on things, he couldn’t pull anything. At least six times, he found himself speaking to a police officer who was given an anonymous tip that he was sitting outside the house. He knew it was Christiano who’d called them to report it, and he did it to fuck with him. The first two times, he was given leeway, but the others he was told to move or else they’d fine him. He now had more than eight violation tickets because he refused to move.

If it wasn’t the cops that told him to leave or threatened fines, it was Christiano’s security who always seemed to come out like clockwork every hour threatening him to leave or else. He wasn’t afraid, and his refusal to move showed it. He knew the asshole was somewhere inside either peeping through a window or watching on the video feed like the Lord Farquaad he really was. Every chance he got, he made sure to give the house a middle finger.

Every time he called you, the majority of the time, you didn’t answer. Instead, it was Christiano who did. He always sounded like the cocky fuck he was. Every chance he got, he goaded him into losing his temper, and when he was irate and fired up, he’d end the call. When he called, and Christiano didn’t answer, it rang endlessly. On a few occasions, you answered, but he was so surprised by it that he never found the right thing to say. What did you say to your wife that didn’t remember you in any shape or form? He could say he loved you or missed you. He couldn’t apologize. He couldn’t talk to you like you were old friends. All he could do was sit in silence with the knife twisting deeper until you hung up.

The doorbell snapped him out of another hour of aimless staring into space. He was alone tonight. Scott and his mom were at Scott’s house after he blew up at them, telling them to leave him alone. It wasn’t his finest moment. Slowly, he trudged to the door with a bottle in his hand; it was his normal accessory now. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Ana’s smiling face. He couldn’t help but sigh out. He’d hoped it was you.

“Hi, Ana.”

She gave him a once over then frowned. “You look horrible.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said before he turned to walk away. The clink of her heels on the marble was the indication she was following him. A few moments later, he dropped onto the couch and brought the bottle back to his lips.

“How many of these have you had?”

“Lost count. What’re you doing here? I’ve told you that you don’t have to keep coming here.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I thought we were friends.”

He didn’t answer; he just studied her trying to access her motives.

“Friends don’t let friends go through a tough time alone. I come bearing a home-cooked meal and company.”

He sighed again while taking another swig.

“I have plenty of food, and I don’t need the company.” It was rude, but it was honest.

Ana frowned before she sat beside him on the couch. “Look, I know you’re going through something really tough. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I don’t think you should lock away and—wallow. You have to keep going.”

“Ana, I appreciate you coming by these last two weeks with food and checking on me. You’re kind to do it, but it’s unnecessary. I wish everyone would just give me some space. Everyone hovers and tiptoes, not wanting to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing as if them avoiding the huge elephant in the room makes it so I don’t see it. I see the fucking elephant. My fucking wife is not here! My wife has no fucking memory of me. As far as she’s concerned, I’m some stranger from the street!” His frustrations were bubbling to the surface.

She didn’t speak for several moments after that. He was glad for it. Lately, he’d been looking at her with a new suspicious eye. He had all the time in the world to see things that either didn’t add up or just came off strange. He never thought Ana’s behavior was suspicious before, but now everything had a hint of awkwardness. He’d begun to wonder if you’d been right all along, and she was harboring some crush on him. Before, he saw her friendliness and willingness to help and be around him as a kindred spirit situation, but now, it was possible he might have had been wrong.

“Chris–,” Ana began before he cut her off.

“It’s not a good idea for you to here like this. The paps are camped out a block down and have constant eyes on the house. The last thing either of us needs is for you to be snapped coming in or out of here. Honestly, I think it’s best that we stay clear of each other by giving each other some space.”

Her jaw dropped for a split second, and along with it, he saw the anger flash through her eyes. As quickly as it happened, it disappeared. She took a deep breath and brushed her slick ponytail back as if there was a hair that was misplaced from the perfectly done style.

“Chris, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“That’s not what it looks like to the public and the fans. Twitter is on fire over this. My name, your name, and Uriah’s name has been trending for two weeks. This is all anyone can talk about. They all think we’re having an affair.”

“It’s not true, though. We’re not fucking each other, so who cares!”

Her shout was loud and shrill. This was the first time he’d seen her lose her temper, the first time he’d seen a crack in the perfect demeanor she always displayed. Again, Ana brushed her hair back as she cleared her throat. In seconds that perfect façade was back.

“I’m sorry. This is stressful for all of us,” Ana offered.

“Then, space is definitely needed. I’ll walk you out.” With that, he stood and walked out of the family room toward the door. Ana didn’t immediately follow; several moments passed before she even entered the hallway. As she approached, he could see her disappointment and annoyance.

“Chris–,” she began.

“I know Ana. I just—I’m angry and frustrated and honestly at my wit’s end. I don’t want to live in this reality anymore.”

She must have sensed there was nothing else to say, so she nodded. He opened the door for her to walk through, and once she did, he promptly closed it. It hadn’t even been a month, and he was already falling apart at the seams. He had no idea how much longer he could go on in this new reality.

The alert for his phone sounded in the eerily quiet house. As he approached it, he expected it to be another update from the private investigator he was paying to look into everything or even his mother or Scott checking in for the umpteenth time today. When he saw the ID as “Jackass,” his eyes nearly got stuck in the back of his head from how hard he rolled them. As he opened the message, his heart dropped.

MSG Jackass: I thought it was a good idea to get Uriah out of town so she could properly heal.

“Son of a bitch!”

He was in his car in seconds though he knew he’d been drinking that day. As he sped to Christiano’s house, he didn’t feel impaired. That text sobered his ass up in record time. He was in such a sobering mind-frame that he obeyed every light and traffic sigh though his instincts said to run every light he came across. As he drove, he used the audio recognition in his car to call Christiano back to back. Each call he placed was ignored, and he knew it was him ignoring it rather than missing the call.

When he pulled up outside of his palatial home, he pounded on the gate.

“Christiano! Open this fucking gate!”

He didn’t feel the wrought iron underneath his hand, or much of anything besides anger and fear.

“Open the gate! Uriah!”

He saw two burly security guards approaching the gate as if they had all the time in the world.

“Where is my wife!?”

“You again? Look, man, we’ve told you that you’re not welcome here,” the one with the goatee croaked.

“I don’t give a fuck if I’m welcomed or not. My wife is in there! Do you hear me? She’s my wife. Where is Christiano? Tell him to bring his pathetic ass out here!”

“If you don’t stop banging on the gate, we’re going to have to call the police again.”

“Call the police! Where is the son of a bitch!”

“He’s not here.”

The two guards looked back, revealing a slender woman dropping in designer everything. Her strawberry blonde locks were framing her face that looked sad.

“What do you mean he’s not here? Where is my wife?!”

She approached the gate nodding to the guards silently telling them to back off.

“I’m Christina. I’m a friend to Uriah.”

“Christina—White?”

She nodded.

“Where is my wife?”

“She’s not here. Her and Christiano left an hour ago,” Christina informed.

“What! Where did they go?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Look, I told him it was a bad idea. I told him that he should keep her here because, at the end of the day, she’s your wife. He didn’t listen. He never listens. He’s always been a fool when it comes to her,” Christina divulged.

“So you’re telling me he has my wife somewhere in this world, and no one knows where she is or going?”

His panic quickly raised. He’d never felt this out of control in his life. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears as he turned his back to the house.

“He won’t hurt her if you’re worried about that. He loves her too much for that.”

“Son of a bitch!”

~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

 You walked through the airport toward the gate to board the waiting private jet with your hand planted in Christiano’s and your shades on. You could feel the eyes on you, and you even felt as if those who watched you were whispering about you. It shouldn’t have been anything alarming you’d been in the public eye for a few years and knew how this felt. The only thing was this felt different somehow.

“Is it me, or is it like they’re whispering more than usual?”

Christiano quickly looked around before he shrugged and squeezed your hand.

“Nah, they’re just blown away by the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You smiled widely and allowed him to press a kiss to your forehead. Once you got to the gate, Christiano greeted his flight crew and did all the talking. You liked how he always took control of a situation. It meant you didn’t have to worry about a thing when you were with him. Over the last two weeks, the two of you had been wrapped in a bubble at his house. You didn’t go out or even make an attempt to do anything but spend time with him. For some reason, you felt as if you hadn’t been together in months. Almost immediately from your release from the hospital, you began to feel sick as if something was off with you.

On a whim, you had a security guard bring you a pregnancy test which came out positive. You had no idea what to think or how to feel. You knew you’d always wanted kids, and the thought of kids with Christiano was something you’d thought about over the years you’d been together. You knew you and the baby would be well taken care of. When you told Christiano, he looked speechless, and for a few minutes, you feared he didn’t want the baby, but he assured you he did. From there, you were in this elated bubble at the thought of impending parenthood with the man you loved.

It had become apparent to you that you were missing some time in your memory. The therapy sessions that Dr. Diallo suggested was more than therapy for people involved in traumatic accidents. You’d pieced together that there were holes in your memory. When you asked Christiano about it, he filled in what he could, always stressing how much he loved you and how happy you were together. You didn’t doubt it. You knew he loved you. You remembered that there were a few times you’d suggested a break from each other because of the intensity of that love. It was always ion the back of your mind, but he was the perfect man toward you.

“Ready beautiful?” Christiano spun you to him, pressing his palms against your ass, pulling you flush against him. The touch felt familiar but also foreign as if somehow it wasn’t right.

“Of course.”

“I can’t wait to get you on that beach.” You smiled and allowed him to kiss you. This kiss wasn’t quick or timid as the once from the last two weeks. Christiano’s tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours unexpectedly. Though it felt strange, it also felt normal. You couldn’t wrap your head around the competing feelings and senses.

When he pulled back, he retook your hand and led you through the gate to board the jet. In a few short minutes, you were rolling down the tarmac and wheels up, gliding through the air to some surprise tropical island. You allowed yourself to mellow out drift to sleep. As you slept, your dreams were strange. You were in places you’d never been before, seeing faces you’d never seen before and having conversations you had no recollection of until you were sucked into a black hole. The darkness clung to you, but your hearing was that much more in tune. As you began to panic, the sound of a familiar but unfamiliar voice comforted you and spoke the sweetest words.

“I love you, Riah.”

 “I don’t think anything could have stopped me from marrying her. It was inevitable.”

Whose voice was it, you didn’t know. The only thing you knew was you liked it.

When the jet landed, and the chauffeured car pulled up outside a beach house, you were exhausted and in need of a bath and a nap. Your nap on the jet wasn’t enough, especially since it left you highly on edge and confused. Christiano’s beach house was gorgeous. According to him, it was a new addition to his collection of properties, one he said he didn’t visit much but knew you’d like. He gave you a quick house tour before you finally got to take your bath.

As you sat in the tub, the sound of the breeze rustling the palm trees, and the chips of the birds mixed with the soft crash of the waves onto the sand outside lulled your senses into a mellow state that had your mind completely blank. This was a first. Since you woke up from your accident, your head always felt as if it was reaching for something. You didn’t know what it was, but it never stopped, not even when you slept. When you slept, it only seemed to intensify its search. This usually meant you awoke feeling as if you’d never slept.

With your brain quiet and your muscles melting inside the water, you finally felt yourself beginning to enjoy your surroundings. Time stood still but flew at the same time. Before you knew it, Christiano was standing over you holding a towel.

“You’ve been in here for a while. Are you okay?”

“I’m great. I think I dozed off.”

“Are you ready to come out?”

You nodded and stood in the tub. Christiano’s eyes widened as they slowly roamed over your naked, dripping body. He didn’t move, and the look on his face was one you didn’t recognize. You worried you’d already gained weight from the pregnancy, and he didn’t like it.

“I know I look—different—the baby–,” you began before Christiano quickly wrapped the towel around your body, holding you against him.

“You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my life, and you will always be that woman,” he whispered while staring in your eyes before he pressed his lips to yours to scoop you into his arms.

Christiano intensified the kiss as he carried you through the house. When he placed you to sit on the bed, your heart lurched, and it felt like panic or fear. Christiano pulled back, but before he could speak again, a phone rang. He sighed out and assured you he’d be back before he walked out. Relief filled you, and that was strange to you. You didn’t understand why you felt relieved the moment had been interrupted or felt panic or fear once he put you on the bed.

Pushing it to the side, you went through your after-shower routine and dressed. When you reemerged from the bedroom, Christiano was placing plates on the table on the balcony that overlooked the beach. The two of you had a quiet dinner.

As the days ticked by, the two of you enjoyed everything the island had to offer. You went sailing, snorkeling, sunbathed on the beach, ate, and enjoyed each other’s company. There were several times you caught Christiano’s eyes on your body and even a few times where you placed his hand on your belly that was beginning to make its appearance. When he touched your belly, his eyes always looked sad, but it was a look that was quickly gone to be replaced with his smile. When you brought it up, he assured you he was just worried he wouldn’t be a good father. His admission made melt. He always came off so self-assured and confident in everything he did. It was your turn to assure him he would be an amazing dad because of how he took care of you.

Every morning he prepared your breakfast. A breakfast that always consisted of a part of the food groups from the food pyramid and four pills he identified as a prenatal vitamin, Iron, Vitamin E, and Vitamin C.  You found it sweet that he wanted to take such good care of you. It was a side you’d loved about him since meeting him. Every time you kissed, they got longer and longer and more intense than the last. No matter who initiated the kiss, you were always the one to pull away from it.

Something always felt off. Something inside of you wouldn’t let you get there with him, and you didn’t understand it. He’d been nothing but good to you. He hadn’t mistreated you or done anything hurtful that would give you right for the pause. Still, every time Christiano’s lips touched yours, your psyche fought back. Excruciating pain usually always followed with an echoing scream in your head. By the time a week had passed on the island, you could tell Christiano was beginning to get frustrated with the constant back and forth though he swore he was fine and wanted you to move at your pace.

You found your hands always on your burgeoning stomach, just tracing along it, envisioning the baby inside of you. You’d thought about kids in passing, but never as if it would actually happen. You felt as if you should have been terrified, but you didn’t feel any fear. You felt content, ready. You now loved to spend mornings just lying in bed, feeling your stomach, and envisioning life as a mom. You couldn’t believe this was life now, but you wanted it more than anything.

“Ready for bed?”

You turned around from the vanity you sat and saw Christiano toward you. He wore no shirt and sweat shorts that were low on his hips. He looked good.

“Yeah.”

Christiano took your hand, kissed it, and led you out of the vanity room to the bedroom. Once inside, the two of you slinked underneath the covers. When Christiano slid to your side and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, you hesitated but only for a few seconds. With your hesitation, Christiano brought his lips to your temple to trail kisses down the side of your face to your jaw and down to your neck. Once there, he capitalized on knowing your spot and teased it with soft kisses. As he continued, you both remained frozen, unable to move. Nothing was preventing you from moving, but you felt as if you couldn’t.

When Christiano’s lips dropped to your cleavage at the swell of your breast, you clutched the sheets in your hand for dear life.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding vigorously, you did your best to keep the panic out of your eyes. Cristiano kissed you gently, coxing your tongue to play with his. When you allowed him in, Christiano’s tongue wrapped around yours as he sucked it. In a matter of seconds, he was on top of you using his hands to caress your exposed thigh. The hand you envisioned was not his, though. In your mind’s eye, you saw a large hand gripping your thigh before it pushed along your skin up to your hip to pull down your underwear.

As quickly as you envisioned it, it disappeared, and you were underneath a hardening Christiano. That fact was what had you pulling away from him. When he looked at your face, he must have seen everything you felt. The disappointment in his eyes couldn’t be hidden. Christiano sighed, dropped his head, then nodded as he rolled off of you to lie on his back while staring at the ceiling. Neither of you spoke. You didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was small, a whisper.

Christiano didn’t respond right away. You weren’t sure he would. A full minute ticked by before he spoke.

“It’s okay, little dove.”

You sighed, hearing his nickname for you. Relief flooded you.

“Let’s get some rest,” Christiano suggested ending any conversation.

You knew he was frustrated with you. How could he not be? Glancing over to him, you saw he still laid there on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The look on his face was unreadable. Slowly you rubbed your belly and closed your eyes. It was quickly becoming a comforting mechanism for you, one you found yourself doing more and more since your arrival on the island.

The next morning you woke up alone with Christiano nowhere to be found. You didn’t know what to think, but you didn’t feel any panic. You felt relief. It was yet another thing that you didn’t understand. Why did you feel relief knowing he wasn’t there but panic when he was close? As you ate breakfast, your thoughts drifted. You thought about life before waking up in the hospital, this new life you found yourself in, and the one that was waiting in the future. While you felt as if you were getting back to normal, you always felt like none of this was normal. You didn’t feel normal. The ringing of a phone brought you back to reality and sent you on the hunt for where it came from.

You found the phone in Christiano’s bedside table.

“Hello?

The line was silent, but you just knew someone was there. You repeated your greeting, but your voice was lower than before.

“Riah.”

You didn’t know if it was the name or the way the voice sounded, but your heart raced, and your belly fluttered. You felt something familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. Somewhere deep inside of you, you knew you’d heard it before. You knew this was not the first time you’d had this reaction.

“Who is this?” Your voice was even shakier.

“Me,” he whispered.

Everything in you was fighting, but you didn’t know what it was fighting for? Was it against something or for something? His name was at the tip of your tongue.

“Ch—Chris?”

“You know me?” He sounded as if he were on the verge of tears. For some reason, you wanted to ease his pain, but you didn’t know how.

“No.”

He sighed out and sniffled. The realization he was crying weighed heavily on you, so heavy you had to drop to the bed to sit.

“I miss you so much.”

The words meant something to you, but what? The words made you feel, but what? As you were opening your mouth to speak, you heard a door close.

“Little dove?”

Quickly you ended the car and put the phone back into the nightstand then hurried out to greet Christiano, hoping he didn’t suspect anything. You felt as if you were a cheating wife.

Christiano made all your favorites for dinner that night, and the two of you ate surrounded by a sea of candlelight and flowers. You worked hard to keep your head in the present and not on the way Chris’s voice sounded or the effect it had on you. You were curious, but you also knew that curiosity was like opening Pandora’s Box. What if you’d cheated on Christiano and he didn’t know? That was your biggest worry right now. You wanted to bring it up to him, but the ramifications were what stopped you.

After dinner, you sat on the beach watching a movie from the projector and sipping apple cider. Without warning, Christiano stood, allowing your feet that were in his lap to drop to the sand. He turned to you and held his hands out for you.

“What’re you doing?”

“Take my hand.” Slowly you slipped your hands into his. Christiano lowered his head to your hands and kissed the backs then dropped to one knee in front of you.

“Oh my god,” you began. You wanted to leap out of your skin and run down the beach. That was your true first instinct.

“I love you, little dove. I’ve loved you from the minute I laid eyes on you. We’ve been through so much together. There was a time that we didn’t know what was next, a time both of us went through a lot. I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you. You’re my everything, Uriah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you—with our—baby.”

Your tears rolled down your cheek, and you couldn’t help but slide closer to him.

“I don’t want to know what it’s like to live a day without you. I don’t want to do it. Will you marry me and spend the rest of your life with me?”

You remembered a time where you wanted him to ask you more than anything. You remembered a time where you’d even planned the kind of wedding you’d want and imagined your name with his last name. Though you knew all of that for a fact, you hesitated with your response. You also remembered another voice asking the same question. A voice you’d heard before. Both voices echoed in your head one over the other until you heard nothing but the words. It was deafening. After a minute the silence returned and you were finally able to breath. You saw Christiano’s panic, and from his panic you tried to calm your own. 

“Yes.”

It took him a few moments to move, but when he did, he threw his arms around you and hugged you so tightly. The two of you giggled together like lovestruck idiots who’d just taken the biggest leap for mankind.

“I love you so much.”

His lips were soft and tasted like the Bourbon he’d been drinking. This kiss wasn’t a timid one, it was one that spoke of his love and passion for you, but you also felt his possessiveness. It was stronger than usual. When he pulled his lips back, he sat you down and held out papers.

“What’s this?”

“Remember when we began dating, and you found out that Christina and I would have a prenup for any future spouses?”

You nodded.

“That’s where I was today. I wanted to get them taken care of. This is my love for you. I want to forgo the prenup. I want us to move forward with nothing between us. All you have to do is sign this, and what’s mine is yours.”

You studied him half in disbelief he’d do this and the other half in awe that he’d go against his family and do this. You took the papers, opened them, and began to read them. Almost instantly, Christiano dropped onto his knees again and kissed you.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife—Mrs. White.”

Hearing the name, you giggled on his lips and returned his kisses as fervently as he gave them. The two of you got lost in kisses for a few minutes.

“Hurry up and sign them so we can be the three little Whites.”

You smiled widely and took the pen he offered. Without reading the documents any further, you signed your name without even looking. Instead, you stared into his eyes. Once you’d finished, you threw your arms around his neck. Christiano lifted you and spun you around, making you giggle like a little girl. You walked along the beach hand in hand, admiring the colossal diamond ring he’d planted on you and just imagining the life you had before you.

A few hours later, once you returned to the house to shower and climb into bed with Christiano beside you with his arms wrapped around you. You don’t know why you woke, but when you did, you were alone in the bed. You looked around and found the room empty. Slowly you walked through the house looking for Christiano. You were sure he wouldn’t leave you alone this late at night, especially since he’d already taken care of the business of couriering the paperwork off the island.

When you turned the corner leading to the living room, the lights were off, but you heard whispers. Your footsteps slowed, and you pressed your back to the wall and listened.

“That wasn’t part of the plan. You’re fucking crazy. you could have—still, it was not the plan.” He sounded angry and spoke as if he wanted to yell but was keeping it down. “It’s been handled. I sent him a little surprise or a present. It is your move.”

You had no idea who he was talking to or what he was talking about. You stepped out of the shadows and into the glow of the moonlight.

“Tino?”

Christiano quickly spun around with his hands behind his back.

“What’re you doing up, little dove?

“You weren’t beside me, and I heard voices. Is everything okay?”

Christiano scoffed and smiled as he approached you.

“Yes, perfect. I was just making plans to start our beautiful life together. You and me.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“You, me, and the baby,” you corrected. Christiano’s jaw clenched, but it was a quick movement before he smiled again.

“Of course. The three of us. Everything I’ve ever wanted in life.”

You smiled and let him lead you to the bedroom. Once inside, you slipped under the covers again and allowed him to kiss you. as he kissed you, you felt the urgency of his kisses and the need coursing through him. His moans echoed in the room as your fingers danced across his bare back. When he rolled onto you, you didn’t freeze this time, and you didn’t hesitate when you felt his need.

From there, Christiano’s movements were deliberate. He kissed where he knew you liked, but it didn’t feel quite right. As he sucked your skin and undressed you, you ignored the strange feeling you had. It was a feeling you assumed cheaters felt. You felt like you were somehow cheating. It made no sense. The man you loved was above you kissing you, licking your skin, and pleasing you the way he knew how. This was the man you were going to marry, the man you were going to make a father. Because it made no sense, you pressed forward.

After a while, both of you were naked. Christiano kissed your temple, then went to your ear.

“I love you, Uriah. I’ll love you until my last breath.”

You smiled and caressed his jaw and brought his face to yours. You wanted to stare into his eyes. They were filled with so much emotion, but there were things there that you didn’t recognize. Christiano dropped his lips to yours and kissed you passionately before he thrust his hips forward, joining your bodies.

You clung to him and shook as you heard your name panted in your ear, only it wasn’t Christiano’s voice you heard. As he moved inside of you, your moans and pants melded together, but your head was fogged with images of things that couldn’t have happened. The faster Christiano plunged in and out of your heat, the quicker the images flashed in your head. The louder his grunts got, the louder your moans became. Soon you felt as if you were close, but no matter how close you were, something was holding you back. This felt right but oh so wrong. He felt like yours, but you didn’t feel like his.

“Chris,” you panted without a thought. You said it again and again like it was the only thing you knew how to say.

Christiano’s thrusts became sloppier, and his grunts rougher.

“Yes, Uriah, you’re mine. Yes!”

“Chrissss!”

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

Lee’s Afternote: Yikes. Are you guys okay? It’s okay to be pissed at me. I understand. 

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!  

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

Tag List:

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.***

[rabbitcity10]

When I lived at college I was a long 2.5 hour drive away from home. I visited home every other week since pets were not allowed in my apartment. My beautiful rabbit lived with my family and my mom took care of his basic needs. I paid my brother to pet my rabbit daily but I’ll never know for sure if he did.

A month prior to January 26 I noticed my rabbit had been laying rather soft pellets and so I knew his diet needed to change. The bacteria in sweets such as bananas, yogurt drops, and strawberries was destroying his gut. He was placed on a diet of hay, more hay, and hay pellets aka rabbit food. We also had some foods with nuts and other varieties and he enjoyed those too. Those were sprinkled on top to spice up his meal. He really missed bananas and was moody enough to show it and stomp on the ground when I didn’t share. I told my mom of his diet changes and why we needed to fix his eating habits. She told me she would do it.

It was mandatory of me to call home nightly while at college. If I didn’t call one night, the following day would be met with anger. Nightly phone calls were exhausting as I went through a list of interrogating questions each time about homework, tests, and food. I stopped giving them information such as test dates because I hated how they handled that knowledge. And I stopped telling them what I ate daily and instead said, “I ate food.” Bombarded by their questions and hoping to end the call quickly every night, I didn’t ask how my rabbit was doing. I figured mom would tell me if anything was wrong with him.

Late January 26, 2018 I was headed home. Parking outside the house and entering the front door my mom finally said, “your rabbit doesn’t look so good.”

I was in shock. He truly wasn’t okay. I opened the cage and he tried to greet me. When he moved it was with great difficulty and he fell over having lost his balance. My rabbit never lost his balance before. I was already in tears saying I needed to take him to a vet. I asked my mom what had gone wrong and how long he had been like this. Her reply was that she saw him losing weight and wanted to fatten him up on the thing she knew he loved: bananas.

I couldn’t believe my mother for not only failing to listen to me but also doing something she knew would be harmful. And to withhold all this information from me while I was at college yet confess it right at the door when the truth could no longer be hidden. Who did she think she was protecting? She betrayed me and my rabbit.

The one thing I forbid her to feed him, she did. I had explained to her why this was harming him and why we needed to stop. I had explained that what I researched suggested that he may lose weight prior but that he will gain it back consuming hay. She didn’t listen. Her confession came when she could no longer hide what was happening and I saw my beloved rabbit.

January 27, 2018 I called early in the morning for an emergency vet visit and they said the earliest they could see him was January 29 in the afternoon. I had hope I could care for him until then but his condition deteriorated in hours. He began falling over more and more and shockingly couldn’t get back up. He looked disoriented at all times and wasn’t eating as much. His hair also looked disheveled.

January 28, 2018 I woke up and immediately ran to him. He had fallen over, unable to get up in the night. He had clearly peed himself and the pee had irritated his eye as he couldn’t move. I was broken. I knew this was it. This was the end of my greatest love. I couldn’t watch him suffer like this anymore. My beautiful rabbit must have been in such pain.

I took videos and a picture knowing they would be my last. I felt horrible to record such an ugly time in his life but I wanted to hold onto him no matter what. Deep down I knew that on Monday, when mom would take him to the vet, he wouldn’t come back home.

Over the weekend I had spent so much time petting him. I don’t remember it much and it’s probably myself trying to block the pain but I know for sure I pet him and watched him and tried to make him feel less lonely.

Sunday morning I spent time with my rabbit and when I had to leave to college, I remember the heartbreaking thing I did. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back as I walked out the door. My beloved was suffering.

On Monday I went to class and was helping my professor teach when I received the call. I hid in the paint closet as the veterinarian advised me that I should put the rabbit down. He was too far gone. I was torn apart. I tried to continue teaching class but my professor told me to go home.

I ran to my apartment and my mom video called me to see my rabbit one last time. He looked so sad and hurting. I didn’t know what to tell him but through tears I said over and over, “I love you.”

We ended the call and that was it. That was his final moment with me. I wasn’t there to hold his hand as he left. I wasn’t there to pet him and comfort him. I cried so loud in my room and felt so broken I didn’t do more for him.

The next time mom called she asked what I would like to do with his body. I said that I didn’t want him in a freezer and consequently missed his funeral.

Mom video called me again to see his body in a hole in the ground. It was really happening. He was never going to be seen again. His body was on his side, curled up as I had only seen him do a few times in his life. It was normally a position reserved for when he felt extremely comfortable in his environment. But I knew this time that he had died like that because he couldn’t get back up. My poor rabbit.

The video call connection was shitty and pixelated the whole time. There were no flowers involved. No flowers gifted to him. I wasn’t there to lay him to rest.

The following weekend I went home and upon opening the door and seeing a blank space where his cage would have been, I broke down again. It was really real. He was gone.

My parents placed an angel on his grave and I saw it from a distance. I couldn’t go near his grave for years. I felt so horrible just looking at it. How I had let him down so much and he had never done such a thing to me.

A few years ago I finally planted irises by his grave. I think I saw them bloom once but I still can’t look nor stand by his grave very long. I miss him too much.

I know he was just a tiny animal but he really taught me so much in life. I wanted to be like him because I felt he had that unconditional love and that he was content with the simple things in life. He was perfection to me and I was grateful to God for this sweet animal. It was as though he was proof God could be so kind and loving to me. He was proof God didn’t forget me and leave me to abusive men.

And it felt as though the same God took him from me. I feel betrayed and hurt still. Every Easter I fall in love with the pictures of rabbits and colorful eggs. I love all the memories I had of my rabbit and Easter brings them all back. I want to cover the holiday and days leading to it in pastel colors and pictures of happy bunnies. But I still hurt deep inside that my Easter bunny is gone. I don’t want another pet rabbit ever. I just want that one beautiful Rabbit.

[stylesnews]

If your quarantine has been anything like mine, Harry Styles content has been the only thing getting you through. At the beginning of the national lockdown, he created a line of shirts and donated the proceeds to coronavirus charities. And last month, he showed solidarity with the Black Lives Matter protests by marching in L.A. and posting about the cause on Instagram. Even more recently, he recorded a sleep story for the Calm app because his fans had been begging for one for so long. Basically, he's been doing what he can during this crazy time, and it's a delight to see.

But back on May 18 (approximately two centuries ago ago), when the sexy and fruit-filled “Watermelon Sugar” music video dropped, Twitter rightfully lost its collective mind. Watching the video was an ~experience~, and it made me wonder what it was like being in it. You know, feeding Harry watermelon, running in the ocean with him, and cracking jokes as the sun set. The video dropped during a time when people were supposed to be avoiding any personal contact. Watching Harry and all the other people in the video rolling around with each other felt almost voyeuristic, and it made me miss living in a time even just a few months ago when touching other people wasn't so scary.

I hadn't stopped thinking about the video in the weeks since, so I decided to do some digging. For your reading pleasure, I talked to five models about the juicy (heh, get it?) details of being in the video.

Most of us scroll through the ’gram to see pics of Harry, but these ladies’ feeds landed them the gig. After putting out a call, the casting director scouted every model on Insta, sending them DMs if they thought they’d be a good fit. Many of them didn't even know the shoot was with Harry at first, only finding out it was him the literal night beforehand.

"I was immediately down to do it when I found out was him," model Elizabeth Tyson says.

Unlike us normal people, these girls balance their day jobs with, you know, spending time with Harry Styles. “I actually didn't even ask my boss if I was going to get [the day] off [for the shoot],” laughs model Mercy Odima, who is also a nanny. “I just replied, and I was like, ‘Yeah. I will be there.’”

That was back in January, and the girls had to keep their mouths shut for literal months until the video premiered on May 18. Can you imagine not being able to tell a single soul about the way Harry suggestively eats a watermelon slice?

By the end of the day, after countless shots where models were not-so-subtly licking watermelon slices and shoving their face (and Harry's) with the very-dense fruit, these ladies could 100 percent live without the watermelon sugar high. “We were like, ‘I can never eat a watermelon ever again!’—we were all sticky, it was dripping,” says Elizabeth. “They must have gone through a hundred watermelons for that shoot.”

And not all of it was so sweet: “I said something like, ‘Did you know that watermelon is actually kind of bad for you if you eat a lot of it? It’s bad for your digestive system,’” Maris says she told Harry. “He was like, ‘Oh, really? I’ve never heard that before.’”

Looking sexy while you feel like Bloat City is a challenge, to be sure. “The last part was us running up and down the beach at sunset,” Maris says. “I had just eaten probably a whole watermelon at that point. I was just praying it didn't come across—I just felt so uncomfortable.”

If it looks like the video is just a massive group hang with friends rolling around on the sand and making orgasmic faces into the camera, that’s because it basically was. “Everything was genuine,” Ephrata says. “They weren't like ‘now laugh’ or ‘now go crazy.' A lot of our scenes are actually us talking.”

Other scenes, though, had more direction. “There was a moment where the directors were like, ‘Okay, we want it to be kind of like an LSD trip,’” Maris laughs. We'll let you try to figure out which scene that is, because, TBH, it could have been any of them.

Overall, all the models agreed it was an incredibly chill experience. “It was probably one of the most natural shoots I've ever been on,” model Aalany McMahan says.

As if there weren’t enough about Harry Styles to fawn over, he also has top-notch nail polish game, as many people know. He ended up matching with one of the models on the set and it became an inside joke.

“Me and him literally had the same polish on,” Ephrata remembers. “We started laughing, and he was like, ‘I think yours is more like a coral.’” Before long, it became an on-set debate: “Everybody was trying to decide what color our nails were,” she laughs.

ICYMI, Harry was recently knighted a “consent king” for asking before he touched Ephrata’s hair. “[The directors] were like ‘You can play with her hair!’ And then he was like, ‘Wait wait wait, are you even cool with that? Is that okay? Are you comfortable with that?’” she remembers.

It meant a lot to her that he took that second to check in (and she later asked him if it was okay to kiss him on the cheek). “That was a moment on set where I was taken aback for just a second, and was like, ‘Wow, he really cares if I’m comfortable. He cares if the other models are comfortable,’” she says.

It goes without saying that a Harry Styles music video is guaranteed to be flirty. I mean, this shoot required the models to lay all over Harry, rest their heads on his shoulders, sexily feed him, etc. Those vibes didn’t stop when the cameras did.

During breaks in shooting, Harry—ever the gentleman—asked the group of models where they were all from. Maris said Wisconsin, which piqued Harry’s attention. “He goes, in his very British accent, ‘Oh, you’re from Wisconsin? Are you a Packers fan?’” she laughs. “I was like, ‘Yes, duh, I’m a Packers fan!’”

Later, as the sun went down on the Malibu beach, Maris tried (unsuccessfully) to hide how cold she was in her bikini. It was January, remember? “In between takes, he kept asking me if I was okay, cause I was shivering,” she reveals. “He was making jokes, like, ‘Oh, you're from Wisconsin, you should be able to deal with this!”

But even for a music video for a song is probably definitely about oral sex, it only went so far as flirting. “There was a group of us who were trying to get him to go out to dinner, but he had plans with someone else,” Maris says. Have fun spiraling while trying to figure out who that someone might be!

Considering his entire brand is "treat people with kindness," it's no surprise Harry was nice on set. That energy started right at the beginning of the shoot. “He was nice enough to come and say 'hi' to us even before we started shooting,” Ephrata recalls. “He came and shook everybody's hand and gave us hugs and was like, ‘Hi, I'm Harry,’ and I was like, ‘Yeah, I know.’”

Throughout the shoot, Elizabeth says he would have conversations, ask questions, and joke around with the models. “Most people, when they hit cut, they just sit there quietly, they don’t interact with you, but he definitely did,” she says. “He’s so laid back. He’s so funny, sweet—he has a personality.”

Many of the models expressed that it was this experience that made them full-fledged stans: “After working with him, I was definitely a bigger fan,” Ephtata says. Welcome to the club, ladies!

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

[stxrrywildflower]

safe

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - after being kidnapped by the unsub, you must race to escape the labyrinth you are imprisoned in while the team receives a shocking video reguarding your safety. (summary is kinda bad :( pls read though)

warnings - kidnapping, mentions of possible rape, blood and injuries, slight curing

word count - ?

you creeped into the house after hearing a large crash from inside. originally, hotch had sent you to a suspects house to investiagte. it was only 10 minutes away and the suspect wasn’t likely to be the unsub which is why you are allowed to go alone. however, you currently found yourself gun drawn, creeping through the house.

despite the crash, it was eerily quiet. almost too quiet. you thought you heard a creek from behind you but once spinning around you were met with nothing. you sighed and placed your gun back in your holster on your hip with the intention of picking up one of the papers on the table.

instead, you heard a sickening crack and felt nothing but pain in the back of your head. seconds later, everything went dark.

meanwhile, back at the police station, hotch paced back in forth as he listened to morgan, rossi, and emily debate theories. reid and j.j. were at the morgue examining the past victims bodies.

“how long has y/n been gone?” hotch asked, gaining the attention of his fellow agents.

“about an hour i would say, why?” rossi responded.

hotch opened his mouth to respond but stopped when one of the police officers knocked on the door of the conference room. he walked over to open the door and accepted the package that was given. “what’s that?” morgan asked as he moved next to hotch who shrugged. the package was light and looked official.

after opening, he let out a frustrated sigh. inside was y/n’s badge and gun. “no, no, no,” emily spoke as she immediately went to grab her phone to call reid and j.j., presumably telling them to get back as soon as possible. meanwhile, hotch was on the phone calling garcia.

you woke up with a throbbing pain in your skull. you would be shocked if you didn’t have a concussion. you tried to examine your surroundings but you were only in a long grey hallway with four doors on the surrounding sides, nothing else. suddenly, one of the doors opened and your presumed captor walked in. he had on a full black outfit including a mask, preventing you from seeing your face.

“ah agent y/n, welcome!” the unsub spoke.

you groaned and went to pull against the ropes tying your hands back. “what the hell do you want,” you practically growled out. that only made the unsub last.

“i want to play a game. both with you and your team. first things first, i’m going to take off the restraints and then your shirt. if you try anything i will put a bullet in your brain. do you understand?” he asked. you nodded slightly as the tears started flowing once thinking of the possible scenarios the could happen. the only two were that he wanted you to feel exposed or the fact that he could potentially rape you.

the ropes tying your hands back were suddenly cut leaving you free. the unsub then pulled your shirt off and began to slowly walk away but not before re-tying your hands. “by the way agent y/n, if your team does find where we are located, there’s a slim chance that they will actually find you. and if you do make it out of this room, try not to go insane when you get lost,” he said with a grin before fully exited the room clutching your shirt. you glanced down at your exposed torso. you were left in your black jean pants, combat boots, and sports bra. you could work with that.

decided to try something you saw in a movie, you stood up as much as you could and the slammed down on the floor as hard as you could. the wooden chair broke underneath you, allowing for you to slip out of the restraints and stand up. it took a couple tries for you to regain your balance, even then you had to hold on to a wall. but once reaching the closet door you used all your strength in an attempt to pry it oppen. thankfully after a few minutes, the door opened just enough for you to slip out. once out of the room, you realized just want the unsub meant. you were in a labyrinth with at least 12 different paths in front of you.

“alright, i need to get back to the team. i need to get back to spencer,” you mumbled softly to yourself as you picked one of the paths.

spencer and j.j. rushed into the police station and into the room they were set up in. morgan let j.j. through but shut the door once reid reached them. “morgan what the hell is going on!” reid shouted. morgan gripped his arm and led him to a different room, glancing at hotch on the way who simply nodded.

“reid, y/n has been taken by the unsub. he sent her badge and gun in a package to hotch a few minutes ago,” morgan spoke softly.

spencer shot up. “y/n? no, she couldn’t have been. i should have been with her,” he rushed out. morgan walked over and placed his arms on reid’s shoulders. “hey pretty boy, i need you to take a deep breath and look to me,” morgan started before picking up once reid did just that. “i know you love her and are obviously taking this hard but we need your head in this. we will get her back reid.”

spencer nodded before being led out of the room and into the other by morgan. the room, however, went silent when he stepped in. “spence,” j.j. spoke softly. “can we please just get back to the case?” he mumbled. hotch glanced around before calling garcia back.

“anything?” he asks.

“nothing yet, the profile is giving me too many results. i need more info-” garcia started but cut off when her attention went to something else.

“what garcia?” emily sputtered out.

“oh my god, you need to see this,” she gasped. suddenly a live video feed was displayed on the tv. it was a long grey hallway, unknown to the team it was just like the one you were in earlier. at the end, just out of view to get a good look of the face was a women in a chair. she had your color hair and the same shirt you were wearing.

“that’s her shirt,” reid struggles to get out.

everyone turned back to look at the screen. a figure appeared in the room, presumably the unsub, and pulled out a gun. the room went silent as a gunshot echoed through. the women fell back in the chair, dead from the bullet through her forehead.

from that moment on, the teams expressions changed. garcia hung up and attempted to track the signal. reid rushed out of the room and down the hallway, tears already appearing on his cheeks. j.j. followed him, ready to comfort him at loosing his girlfriend but could not help but begin crying herself. emily was shocked and stood still for a moment before derek brought her in a hug. hotch and rossi delt with the fact that you could be dead the best. they kept straight faces and turned to each other.

“she could still be alive,” hotch started. “hotch-” rossi started but was cut off by hotch again. “we couldn’t make out the female in the image. yes, she did look like y/n but we can’t be sure of that. we need to finish the profile,” he stated before turning back to the board.

“wait!” rossi exclaimed. “y/n was only taken a little over an hour ago. how did the unsub manage to package, get the proper stamps and confirmation, and send it to us in the short time.”

“he’s a mailman,” emily stated once she stepped away from morgan. she then pulled out her phone to call garcia before handing it to hotch.

“garcia, we concluded that the house y/n was out was an old address and no one lived there,” hotch spoke resulting in garcia nodding. “how many mailmen are there in this town?” garcia typed for a minute. “8,” she spoke.

“this guy would have a history of medical issues regarding ocd and possible bipolar disorder. he’s mid 30s-40s and needs to have owned a big area of land,” rossi adds to the profile.

“one sir. aiden o’riley. he owns a 30 acre property just outside of the city. i just sent the address to your phones.”

“let’s go. assume y/n is alive and be careful,” hotch ordered. j.j. and reid were alerted and ran to an suv alongside everyone else.

once arriving to the property with the other police officers, they moved in the building which led to the underground. they then all realized that it was a maze. after receiving further orders from hotch, morgan took of running down one of the straight hallways.

he turned a few corners, deeming each clear and moving on. suddenly, after spinning around in the dark hallway, his body collided with someone. he immediately pointed his gun and flashlight at the figure.

you glanced into morgan’s light despite the pain it brought you. “y/n,” he breathed out. “morgan i’m okay, i’m okay i promise,” you rushed. he pulled you into a tight hug after retracting his gun and cradled the back of your head with his hand.

“we thought you were dead,” morgan revealed. you glanced up confusingly, desperately trying to ignore the pain in your head.

“what?” you went to ask but we’re cut off by the piercing sound of the intercome morgan was using. you gasped and lowered yourself to the ground, just then feeling the true pain of your injuries.

“we got o’riley!” the voice called.

you groaned as morgan spoke back. you heard your name through the radio system but couldn’t make out what they were saying. you shut your eyes and tried to focus on what morgan was then saying to you. it was something along the lines of ‘i’m going to get you out of here’. your body was lifted by morgan and you burrowed yourself into his shoulder, thankful for your practically older brother at that point.

once reaching the exit, morgan set you down on your feet after you claimed you could walk. he kept an arm firmly around you as you were guided out onto the grass. the first one to notice you was hotch who had exited closest to you. he ran over and shrugged off his fbi jacket. you just sobbed slightly and hugged him which he greatfully accepted. the jacket was then wrapped around you to cover you up as you were guided around the building to the ambulance that was waiting.

you sat in the back of the ambulance, not on the gurney yet, with hotch and morgan next to you. the emt’s voices became mumbled as you noticed a tall skinny man and a blonde woman emerge from the building.

“spencer?” you called out softly. morgan glanced down confused and then up at spencer who’s line of vision was where you were. the two of you made eye contact. at that moment you didn’t care about your injuries.

you shrugged off the emt’s and ripped out the iv i’m your arm. after stumbling down and out of morgan and hotch’s grip, you took off running to where spencer was. it obviously took you a little while to do, due to your injuries including your leg but the time was cut in half when spencer met you half way.

he pulled you into a tight hug. your arms went around his back and you burrowed your head in his chest. he just gasped slightly and hid his face in your shoulder.

“we all thought you were dead. the unsub sent us a video of him shooting someone who looks exactly like you,” spencer mumbled into your head.

you pulled away softly. “that explains why he took my shirt. but hey, i’m here now and i’m alive and i’m not going anywhere. that’s all that matters,” you spoke, moving your hand up to his cheek. he smiled at you before leading you back towards the ambulance where a smiling hotch and grinning morgan stood.

[juminhandfs]

Hantober Day 10

Choir Practice: Favorite song that reminds you of Jumin.

I made a playlist actually 👀

I went overboard and tried to include songs fitting of every significant moment of his life in chronological order, including the bad endings and even when he crashed Seven's car... ending with the Good Ending.

If you are going to listen to this I have to warn you, it has 2 songs that touch on the bad ending 2 and can be triggering for some people: Lullaby from The Cure which is more metaphorical and Prison Sex by Tool whose lyrics are very graphic. Listen at your own risk and take care.

But here I want to talk about the first song on the playlist that sorts of encapsulates Jumin's life and what meeting MC means to him.

The song I'm talking about is Lateralus, also from Tool, which has the particularity of relying heavily on the Fibonacci sequence both in the metric of the syllables and in the meaning of the song. This is a song about grow.

If you have never heard about the Fibonacci sequence, also known as The Golden Ratio, I recommend to you to watch all these videos on YouTube talking about it because is something super interesting!

Basically The Fibonacci sequence is the mathematic that you can find in the nature, which goes like this:

0+1 =

1+1= 2

2+1= 3

3+2= 5

5+3= 8

8+5= 13 and so on...

Theses numbers when put on a graphic look like this: a spiral

A grad student made a video about the Fibonacci in Lateralus for a project and there it's infinitely better explained of what can I do here, but sadly the video was taken down, what I could find is this same video from someone who reposted it.

I want to encourage you to watch it so you can understand better how the lyrics match with Jumin's life:

Black/ 0+ 1 =

then /+1 =

white are/ 2 + 1 =

all I see/ 3 +  2 =

in my infancy/ 5 + 3 = 8

This is like a perfect description of Jumin's life growing up and raised like a businessman, with no place to emotions and creativity

Red and yellow then came to be/ 8 - 3=

reaching out to me/ 5  - 2 =

Lets me see/ 3

Red and yellow could stand for V and Rika. They showed him another way for things to be: these are the colors more vibrant in the rainbow. Trough them Jumin got to experience friendship and love. And they "came came to him, reaching out to him" he didn't went looking out for them.

As below, so above and beyond, I imagine/ 13 - 5 =

Drawn beyond the lines of reason/ 8 - 3=

Push the envelope/ 5 -2 = 

Watch it bend 3

Below, above, beyond: the lyrics are describing the dimensions of a box, that's the envelope to push made by "the lines of reason". Also note how the number of syllables were in crescendo, but now they are descending, why? What is stopping the spiral from growing? What is stopping Jumin? The answer is in the following chorus: 

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind

Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must

Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines

Then we have the repetition of the same verses and the chorus + the following verses

There is (2)

so (1)

much (1)

more and (2)

beckons me (3)

to look through to these (5)

infinite possibilities (8)

The next verse marks the moment the song changes, it stops counting syllables and with it both the song and the lyrics go in an endless crescendo...

Feed my will to feel this moment 

Urging me to cross the line

Reaching out to embrace the random

Reaching out to embrace whatever may come

A thing I haven't noticed, but I do now as I'm writing this is that the voice and the style of the singing also changes here. Up to this point was kinda robotic but here is really soft, in awe, you can feel the sincerity of the singer in his voice. If I had to parallel this moment in the song to one in Jumin's route it definitely would be when he tells you about his threads at 2 am. It's my favourite moment in the whole song, as I imagine Jumin saying those words:

I embrace my desire to

I embrace my desire to

Feel the rhythm, to feel connected

Enough to step aside and weep like a widow

To feel inspired

To fathom the power

To witness the beauty

To bathe in the fountain

To swing on the spiral

Swing on the spiral

Of our divinity 

And still be a human

With my feet upon the ground I lose myself

Between the sounds and open wide to suck it in

(He complained about the noise, remember the standing alone in an empty field? The noise is no longer noise, is "sounds" , "words have a meaning once they reach you"

I feel it move across my skin

(He didn't liked to be touched)

I'm reaching up and reaching out

(He is out of the box, or the cage?)

I'm reaching for the random or what ever will bewilder me

What ever will bewilder me

And following our will and wind we may just go where no one's been

We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been

Spiral out, keep going

Translation of all of this? Why I put it at the beginning of the playlist?

Well...

Because of the heavy trauma he received in his early years, Jumin had to rely on rationality and logic to conduct his life (V called him "scientist" and Rika said she wanted for him to find the perfect balance between emotions and logic). Thus ignoring emotions but also his inner intuition, his gut feeling. (Update after the dlc: Now we know the big part his mother also played in this)

Because Jumin's trauma is in direct relation to his body, Jumin tried to distance as far as he could from it and treating it as a machine ("separating the body from the mind"). He mentions how loose clothes make him uncomfortable "because he needs a constant restraint all the time" (if corsets for men were an item you can bet Jumin would wear one)   which leads to his body speaking to him in the way of symptoms: this symptoms are the headaches, the numbness he says he feels in the dlc, the feeling of drowning, etc...

Basically, his body (wether by his emotions, gut feelings or directly through his headaches and mild-amnesia) is desperately trying to talk to him and Jumin is doing everything he can to not listen to it, because he isn't ready for it yet, because these are years and years of unspoken trauma trying to hit him  at once (this is why therapy is important! Guys!) .

So Jumin rationalizes things: he must be having headaches because he ate something bad, or the temperature in the room is below 2 grades, and V must be distant because he is still grieving, not because he is hiding something, not for what Yoosung is telling everyone. And Yoosung is also grieving, so that's why he's acting like this.

And Rika was V's fiance, so he couldn't have feelings for her

All of this changes when he meets MC: first she doesn't treat him as a robot like everybody else, but as person with feelings and with a right to feel and express those feelings, and second and (maybe) more importantly: she doesn't allow him to project his own emotions onto her (as he did with Elizabeth) thus Jumin doesn't have any other option that confront his own emotions, to recognize those feelings as his own… and this scares him to death, but he has to do it if he wants to be with her.

And this, that this battle is for her and for a future with her, is what gives him strength.

Now, onto the song again, Jumin has to listen to his body to do this, he has to decipher what is trying to tell him "Why im feeling like this?" "Why I acted this way". There's another song, also from Tool ("Forty Six & 2") that goes deeper in this process Jumin has to do "I want to know what I've been hiding in my shadow (...) Listen to my muscle memory"

It can't be only raw emotion because that's the bad ending 2 (or he stealing Seven's car), both mind and body had to work together (or to say it in the words of the song, the body can't be keep separated from the mind) for the well being of the person. And if it's in the natural design of things to tend to expansion and growth, why we'll be different? This is to live riding the spiral: self awareness.

"Swing on the spiral

Of our divinity 

And still be a human"

And the best part of all of these? Once this big rock is out the way? 

Now he can allow himself to feel everything! Both the good and the bad, his love for MC, his friendship for the RFA, and by him now being better, he can also be a better, more honest friend to those he loves. And by being more honest, he can now help them to get on their feet again just as MC helped him, and accept help from them . Without fear.

"We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been"

And that's why I love this song and Jumin Han.

.

.

.

.

Note: So this didn't came out as I wanted :/ (that's why I couldn't post it like 1 month ago), but that's kinda of the point of the song I guess? 😅 Certain things can not be explained, only experienced and when you try to dissect them (overanalyzing) they lost something very important in the process. Even the same phenomenon doesn't guarantee the same experience for different individuals... But that's the good thing in the end 😅

How boring life would be if we all experienced the world in the same way...

[connorswhisk]

omgcp friendship week day 6: late night conversations ft. holster and jack

for day 6 of @birlcholtz‘s prompts !

can also be found on my ao3

Funnily enough, the only times Holster really sleeps badly is when he’s so exhausted he can’t think straight. If he’s had a particularly taxing day, and both his body and his brain are worn out like crazy, and all he wants to do is crash on his bunk and stay there forever? That’s when the insomnia kicks in.

Today was a lot. The whole team’s already fucking tired because they’ve been on the road for three days nonstop. But they lost their game tonight, and that was really rough. They had been so close, too…but in the end, it wasn’t enough to cinch it.

So, morale’s pretty low at the hotel right now, and no one’s in the mood for anything, which is unfortunate, because Holster just is not sleeping right now.

He considers waking up Rans, who’s snoring in the bed next to him, but thinks better of it. He was really upset about the game (they all were), and Holster doesn’t want to throw off his balance right now. He needs his sleep.

Yeah, but do does Holster.

He looks over at the alarm clock on his bedside table - it’s almost three in the morning. Maybe he should just watch some random YouTube videos on his phone, or listen to the Glee Season Three cast album back-to-back to distract himself, but then he remembers that his earbuds are somewhere at the bottom of his suitcase, and he really doesn’t feel like looking for them right now.

Fuck it, he thinks, and gets out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and a pair of sweats and grabbing his glasses. Might as well just try and get some fresh air.

The hotel lobby is empty, except for the clerk at the front desk who must have gotten stuck on the graveyard shift. Holster waves at her, to be friendly, but she just sort of nods back at him in return and goes back to her magazine.

He’s planning to stand outside for a few minutes, check his Twitter feed, breathe, and go back in, but that plan is thrown off course when he realizes that he’s not the only person out of bed this late at night.

“Jack?”

Jack looks up at him quickly, his shoulders tensing, but seems to relax a little bit when he sees who it is. “Oh. Hey, Holster.”

“Can I sit?” Holster asks, indicating the curb.

Jack nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

Holster does. He’s not really sure what to say - it seems like he’s interrupted Jack in the middle of some very deep thoughts.

“Um.” Holster coughs. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head. “Not really. You?”

Holster exhales. “Yeah, me neither.”

“Ransom asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

It’s quiet for a moment. The air is chilly, biting at Holster’s face, made a little warmer with his roadie beard, but not by much. It’s silent. Really silent. Nothing but the wind seems to be moving at all. It’s kind of eerie how noiseless everything is.

Holster knows Jack is out here for the same reason he is: he’s upset about the game. Holster wouldn’t mind talking about it with him, helping Jack feel better (and helping himself feel better), but he feels a little awkward about it. He knows Jack pretty well after having played on a team with him for two and a half years, but they don’t really talk. Not about heavy stuff like this, anyway. That’s usually Shitty’s job; he and Jack are best friends, Holster and Ransom are best friends, and Lardo drifts between the four of them, seemingly fitting in anywhere.

But Holster also knows that Jack can get really stressed really easily, and he knows all about that, because his best bro is Justin Oluransi, the Living Coral Reef, and because of that, he knows how to diffuse stressful situations.

For the most part. He’s never tried it with Jack before. But he’s got to try, right? Otherwise, what kind of fucking teammate would he be?

“I’m sorry about the game,” Holster says, and he hates how the words seem all the more real when he says them aloud. He doesn’t look directly at Jack, but he can see him digging his fingers into his knees out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, well,” Jack says, voice sounding bitterly brittle. “You win some, you lose some, eh?”

Holster shakes his head. “Dude, I can tell you’re upset about it. Don’t try to bullshit me. It’s ok.”

Jack sighs. “We weren’t supposed to lose,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Holster says glumly, scuffing his sneakers against the pavement. “I know we weren’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

Jack stiffens. “I didn’t say - “

“You were thinking it,” Holster says casually. “I know you were. You always do.”

Jack swallows. “I’m the captain - “

“And we still played a good game!” Holster exclaims. “We just fucked it up at the end, but it was still good.”

“I fucked it up at the end,” Jack whispers.

Holster glances over at him. He looks even more tired than Holster feels. His eyes are bloodshot, his forehead lined, and maybe it’s just the lighting, but right now he looks older, more like Bad Bob Zimmermann than Jack.

“You didn’t,” Holster says seriously. “It wasn’t your fault. If anything, we all fucked it up a little, and it all built up into one big fuck-up. But it wasn’t you. And we’ll do better next time.”

“Don’t you see?” Jack says louder, desperately. “I can’t - I can’t lose games, Holster, that’s just not something I’m allowed to do. If I ever want to make it back to where I was, I - “ He swallows. “I need to do better.”

Holster shakes his head. “You know you’re the best captain I’ve ever had, right?”

Jack laughs hollowly. “Yeah, ok.”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never had a captain who gets hockey the way you do. It’s like you’ve been doing it your whole life. You have been doing it your whole life, and you’re good at it, and I know that if you asked anyone on this team, they’d say the exact same thing. Ransom thinks so. I know Shitty thinks so. Even Bitty would agree.”

Jack shakes his head. “I just need to - “

“Hey,” Holster says, knocking Jack’s shoulder with his own. “You don’t need to do anything. Dude, you’re going to get back into the professional leagues regardless. You’re Bad Bob’s fucking son! You’re so good at hockey, it should be illegal. You’re not a bad captain, you’re not a bad player, and this isn’t your fault.”

Jack smiles then. He actually smiles, and the tension seems to leak out of his shoulders a little, just like it does for Ransom when Holster’s helping him study for his bio exams, and Holster knows that he’ll be all right.

“Ok,” Jack says quietly. “Ok, Birkholtz.”

Holster grins. “Fuck yeah, dude.”

Jack laughs to himself, and then asks, “Can I - Can I get a hug?”

Holster blinks. “A hug?”

Jack looks sort of embarrassed. “I don’t know, dude, you just give good hugs,” he says sheepishly.

Holster laughs. “Dude, I know. I was just surprised you wanted one. You’re usually a no-touching kind of guy.”

“I know,” Jack sighs. “But I’d really like one right now.”

Holster smiles. “Sure thing.”

As it turns out, Jack Zimmermann gives pretty good hugs, too, whether he knows it or not.

[mcl-pauly]

I didn’t wanna study so instead I made a transcript of a video that might interest some people ? From the video’s description :

Hélène Sellier is a researcher and writer of otome - narrative dating games that tend to reinforce conventional gender roles. Hélène asks how we can write modern interactive love stories without imposing traditional gender norms on young women?

Hélène Sellier is one of the two writers for Moonlight lovers. From her website :

I am a researcher, a writer and a teacher. In French and in English, I work on contemporary fictions and media cultures.

I had the opportunity to participate to the creation of the characters and the narrative structure. I also wrote the dialogues of three of the six main branches.  

I only transcripted starting 11:25, because that’s when she goes more into details about ML. Before that, she talks about the history of otome games, you can give it a listen if you’re interested.

Keep in mind that she’s only one of the writers. The game wasn’t released yet when she made that presentation.

“So the story basically is about a young girl who lost her parents when she was a baby and when she’s turning 18, she discovers the mansion they owned and now six vampires live in the lost building and an incident occurs when she visits the place for the first time. So the player has to choose one vampire who will save her. This choice basically determines her crush -which means the player-character will come to love at the end-. Obviously. Because it’s an otome game.

So first of all, I decided to give flesh to the player-character. Of course, the cliche of the orphan was used and there are a lot of cliches used. But I didn’t want her to feel like a blank sheet and to create identification, I mainly relied on memories that are easily shared. For example being sick as a child or arguing with friends or learning lessons. I used feelings and sensations rather than detailed settings and precise time description. I rely a lot on the cooperation of the player who is supposed to interpret the gaps in the text to make the adventure on. And if you know Umberto Eco, the gaps are what he talks about -sorry, researcher here *laughs*-.

So, however, a narrative voice is used to explore the entire life of the character and it contrasts a lot with the dialogues since I’m using past tense and a lot of figure of speech to describe the complexity of emotion. My aim is to encourage the player to reflect on her/their own feeling and the challenge was to find the right balance between giving flesh to the character without imposing any views. So I wanted to create a strong character, but I didn’t want to pressure the player into being always brave and heroic, so sometimes you don’t cope with a situation like you wanted to, but that’s okay you know, and the numerical system is on hold and you’re not penalized by it.

(Precisions about what’s the numerical system (3:27) : if we look at a game structure [...] each answer influences the relationship between the player-character and the NPC so you can gain or lose points. Since your aim is to date the character [...] often this means that you’ll choose the answer that you think will make him like you the most. And sometimes there are a lot characters you can love so the answer is embedded in several numerical systems. Which means the answer A for example can make you progress in one relationship and set you back in another. So this game system obviously allows the narrative designer to create all types of (? not sure at all lol) relationships and give freedom to the player to create her own persona in the game.)

In the same line of thought, I didn’t want the relationship with the crush to be unidimensional. Agreeing with him or pleasing him or wanting to be with him at any cost isn’t always the best option for him to fall in love with you. This means that the connection grows when the actions of the player-character are in line with the values the crush has. For example one of them values courage and action and another one values caution and reflection and you have to align yourself with those values rather than always trying to please him.

So a system of point is used but I tried for each paths, you know, to be as interesting as possible, even if the relationship between the player-character and the crush is not absolute love or perfect, there is room for interesting nuances, you know, in the relationship. In some routes -and this is a small victory for me- I gave the choice to the player not to fall in love (and yeah that was a big victory for me *laughs*).

So even if one character of the whole set is the center of the player’s attention, I tried not to use the other ones as props for him to exist. I wouldn’t want, for example, women to be set in the background or to be seen as interchangeable, so I didn’t create secondary characters that way. So of course, because this is an otome game, the player-character can’t interact as much with all the vampires when the crush is chosen. But at the same time, she can develop friendships, have interesting conversations outside the ones with her crush.

So, each vampire has obviously his own personality and that also means his own views and prejudices on women. And I chose to include sexist comments. But the player-character notices those comments. And I didn’t want to pressure the player in always answering those comments, so you can choose to ignore them and deal with them in your own way. And the numerical system is once again on hold and you deal with that as you want to. 

The game doesn’t address frontally the discriminations women face everyday but there are situations where the question is raised. For example I included an exchange about pregnancy and the player can use this space to think about what she wants and express her feelings without any prejudices or without feeling being judged. So some of the questions resonate with feminism in this game but it’s not the main focus because it’s an otome game. For example, this is not obvious here, but there are room for questions about other type of sexualities and heterosexuality.

And a lot of player playing otome games look forward to the sex scenes, but there are more and more visual novel about love without them. So, I made sure that the scene was either very light, not crude, or completely optional. And I didn’t want the player to be surprised, so the text clearly states when it’s- they did it that way (?). The type of representation that I chose was realistic but centered on emotion rather than actual description. The aim of this scene was first and foremost to validate the desires a woman has. So contrary to contemporary fiction in general, I did not push the text towards speaking about feelings and love but more about physical desire. Another issue was that in contemporary fiction women are often described as passive. I tried not to avoid that, but rather to put passivity as a choice to be taken amongst other. So, the thing is I didn’t want to impose a right way to be with someone. And the diversity of the situation also led me to write about the failures and the awkwardness of those moments. 

Another question linked with sexuality that emerged was the fact that in popular culture, the bite of vampire is often linked with sexuality. Those moments vary a lot according to the vampire you choose but I used them as a way to give power to the woman. Because most of the time in contemporary fiction, the woman is once again, passive while the vampire bites her but here, I wanted her to have the power to feed the vampire. So most of the times the blood is given voluntarily and when it’s not, I was very careful not to embellish the experience. Which means that, there is a scene treated like a memory of a rape but I was very careful not to oblige the player to experience it, including a possibility to back away from the memory.

So my concerns about the role given to the female protagonist influenced the way that I established a relationship with the male character and some part of the story, but also how I designed the narrative structure. Since for me feminism is about empowerment, I tried to encourage the player to think outside of the box and to trust their own skills. Which means that exploration is rewarded. Often, if the player doesn’t follow what the text says explicitly, but rather tries to find another way to find the information, then she has a bonus. For example, some points in the game system or a completely optional narrative scene.

So feminism is about choice for me, and the visual novel seems to be a very interesting genre to encourage the player to experiment different identities and different ways to be with someone they love. So in narrative design, this means I included as much choices as possible. Even if we all know here that not all of them create an interactive storyline. 

To conclude those ideas I decided to use an image of the end of Doki Doki Littérature Club and it’s a visual novel I’m sure you’ve played or you have on your wishlist. The agency of the player here is denied since she has only one choice and I thought it was a good way to express the fact that writing a feminist otome is not only possible but also necessary, in the fact that it doesn’t mean not writing enough story or revolutionize the genre or talking only about the issues women encounter on a daily basis. I think it only means being aware of the cultural impact of what we are writing and trying very, very hard not to impose views and experiences as the right ones.”

[winterromanov]

Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

-

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

-

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

-

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow. 

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

-

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

-

hello y/n 

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally 

whenever ur not ar oUnd 

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there 

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo 

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

-

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

-

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure. 

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner. 

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal. 

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

-

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

-

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time. 

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home. 

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

:)

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

[toothpastecanyon]

Just Watch Me, Chapter 1

Someone is breaking into New Angeles' museums. Nobody knows where she came from. Nobody knows who she is. But they know the headlines she makes, and maybe, that's enough.

This is for the 2020 annual TAUthon! A big thanks to @feferipeixes​ for betaing this story!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

The New Angeles Museum of Art. With its glass walls and curved steel roof striking a unique figure amongst its more conventional neighbours, it looked something like an art installation itself. Tonight, a misty fog had settled between the city blocks, and the bright lights within shone out with a ghostly glow; inside, there were still a smattering of guests wandering around the exhibits.

    The exhibits. A figure in a longsleeved shirt lingered on the street corner, holding a cigarette with trembling fingers and eyeing the jewelry kept under glass and guard. One of the guards caught her watching; she smiled at him, and he gave a quick smile back before he looked away.

    Once his eyes were elsewhere, the figure took a drag of the cigarette, and walked a little further away from the windows. She leant against a steel pillar, watching people pass by. This street wasn’t too crowded, especially this late at night, and it ebbed and flowed. Sometimes, there were gaps. Brief periods of time where no one was walking past, no one was there but the figure.

…

That gap was too brief.

That one, too.

…

A slight gap, but there was a big crowd on the other side.

The cigarette burned slowly, patiently. The figure waited, making sure to keep a smile on their face in case they caught anyone else’s eye.

…

This one, coming up. A couple college students passed by the figure, and after that… nothing. No one. No witnesses. Just the fog, and the figure, and the looming museum roof far above.

She pulled herself up from the wall, and extinguished the last of her cigarette. It sat on her palm for a moment; she stared at it, and suddenly it started compacting, crushing itself up into a tiny ashen pellet that could fit on a fingernail. She pocketed it, and then gave a grin. Cracked her knuckles. Glanced one last time down the streets, and then-

And then she jerked her arms up and launched herself into the sky. She was far above the street, far above the museum, and she started falling, falling faster, falling faster, headed right for the roof-

Stop.

    She held her hands out, and her feet stopped inches from the steel. She relaxed, and stepped down onto it without making a sound. Quickly, she stripped; underneath her shirt and jeans was a black wetsuit, and she unzipped the front to retrieve a small bag of tools she’d hidden against her stomach.

She crushed her old clothes down and stuffed them into that, and put on a pair of snorkeling goggles. Then she took a moment to check that everything was in there, located the skylight, and gave a grin.

Showtime.

She tiptoed over to the skylight, and looked down. It led into a white hallway - one that was closed to the public while they switched to a new exhibit, she knew. If she angled her head until it was almost touching the roof, she could make out a staff door at the end of the hall, and the black base of a camera on the roof.

The figure dug into her bag, drew out a thin metal wire, bent the end, and then wiggled it into the edge of the frame. It wasn’t easy; the wire was flimsy, and the tremor in her hands didn’t help, but she punched through and started running it along the edge, holding her hand out and testing it, until-

Pop.  The window was shoved down by the force of her magic, and it swung right into the camera and collided with the sound of shattering glass. The broken frame clattered against the floor, and quick as lightning the figure launched herself down the hallway. She didn’t land so smoothly this time, but she picked herself up and positioned herself behind the staff door. She grinned at the mess, at the scratched-out wards on the ceiling beside the skylight. Someone was bound to come running.

She didn’t have to wait long. Two guards burst through the staff door, and she slipped in behind them. Suddenly, the museum looked a whole lot more office-like, with grey carpet and cream walls. There was a camera facing right at her; she scuffed the wards laid down by the baseboard, and looked around in confusion when the two guards ran back in and pointed tasers at her.

“Stop right there!”

“Whoa…” She said, in a sort of dazed voice. “This ain’t the beach.”

“Put your hands up!”

“You know NLA beach, right? Where you can jump right off into the ocean?”

“NLA- what?” The guard cocked his head. “There’s no beach on-”

He aimed and shot the camera. It went off with a  bang;  sparks exploded everywhere, and the other guard jumped back

“Whoa- what the  fuck,  Jared!”

He looked stunned. “I didn’t do that!”

The figure took off screaming.

“Hey! Wait!”

She ran around the corner, and took the keycard she’d ripped from his belt. Levitating it out in front of her, she swiped it, and flung herself into the security office.

“Whoa!” Three guards jumped up at the sight of her; one moved to stop her but she collided with him and tumbled down on the far end of the office. “What’s going on?! What are you doing in here?”

“Ow…” She scooted up against the wall. “My leg hurts.”

“...Take her into custody. We need to find out what happened here.” The guard rubbed his head. “And phone Matt, we need to... need to report… need to…”

The guard trailed off, stumbled, and one by one they all collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious. The figure rose with a grin, wiping warding ink off their palms.

“Alright!” She waved a hand, and they all gently floated over to the corner. “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, guys. I’ll be done in just a second.”

There was a banging against the door as she took a seat in front of the security system; she held it closed with a thought. The camera screens were all laid out before her, jewels in plain view, and she gave a wide grin.

“Okay, PA system… where are you… oh, bingo!” She levitated the mic up to her face. “Hello, hello, testing one two three!”

The guests all seemed to look up at the noise. She chuckled.

“Seems to be working. Hi, guys! Just here to make an announcement, that, uh, if you wanna take one last look at tonight’s beautiful exhibits, you got about fifteen more seconds before I’m taking the lot!” She ran a finger over a panel of switches. “Or, uh, however long it takes me to find the controls - just enjoy yourselves, alright? This is a chill robbery. We’re chill.”

The guests were screaming and piling through the exit. She sniffed.

“Well, I’m chill, anyway. Aha!” She found the warding breakers, flicked them all off, and sat back. “Got you! Alright, now it’s time for the real show!”

She focused hard on the video feeds. The display boxes seemed to tremble, and a high-pitched whine started up before-  bang!  Glass exploded into confetti shards all over the main floor, and about twenty alarms went off at once. She raised a hand, and all the jewelry began to rise into the air.

With a flick of the wrist, they smashed through a side window - off camera. She frowned and kept her hand out, concentrating, concentrating. She could hear police sirens in the distance, and louder and louder bangs coming from the office door; it was time to go.

She rose slowly, and walked towards the side wall. She put her free hand on it, and pushed; a person-sized section of brick gave way with minimal effort, and she poked her head outside. The jewels - they were in sight again, a disorganised hovering cloud that clumped into a neater arrangement as soon as she laid eyes on them. She opened her bag, and little more than a flick of the wrist deposited them inside. This haul was heavy; she lost her balance, and quickly launched herself onto the next building over so she didn’t topple into the alleyway.

There, she regained her footing, and saw the flashing lights of police cars pulling up to the front. She jumped back onto the museum’s roof, and started hopping across the rooftops that way, launching herself from building to building until she had to stop and take a breather.

The museum was reasonably far away now. She opened her bag, and grinned at the glint of gold before she brought out her old clothes. She hid the bag under her wetsuit again, then dressed back into her shirt and jeans and dropped down into an alleyway. People paid her no mind as she slipped back into the crowds; if anyone saw her smile as she checked her phone, they thought nothing of it.

The first news reports were coming in.

‘BREAKING NEWS: Reports of Break-in at NLA Transcendence History Museum, Shattered Glass’

‘Reported Explosion at NLA History Museum’

‘This Just In: Break-in at NLA Transcendence History Museum, Shattered Glass, Police Responding’

Okay, they weren’t very exciting yet. She’d give it a-

Her vision started pulsating. Suddenly everything was spinning. She stopped and fumbled with her phone until she had it pressed against her chest, and stood there swaying for a moment as everything was blinding and blurry, as pins and needles crept up  her legs and there was a lightness in her head like she was going to faint, going to faint right now, going to…

...slowly, slowly,  it subsided, leaving a dull, foggy ache in her mind. She felt her heart rate settle down, and rolled her eyes.

“We’re gonna be like this right now, huh.” She leaned against a building and pawed her phone open. “Fine. Guess I’ll call a taxi.”

A police car barrelled past her as she googled the number. That brought a smile back to her face, and as the taxi took her down darker streets and older buildings, she kept an eye on the news.

Disaster Strikes the Art World: Another Private Collection Reported Stolen in Brazen Heist, Police Release Preliminary Sketch of Suspect

She checked, and burst out laughing. It looked… a little rough, okay? Especially around the nose and eyes; it looked nothing like her there.

“Something funny, ma’am?”

That came from the taxi driver. She looked up sharply.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, haha. Just texting my mom.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Yeah.” Quickly she cleared her throat. “Yeah, she’s, uh, funny… So anyway my stop’s coming up, right? Yeah, it’s right over here!”

“Looks like it is.”

“Alright, sweet!” She took out a guard’s wallet and tipped him a twenty. “You have a great night, man.”

Then she stepped off, onto cracked pavements beneath flickering streetlamps. The bag under her wetsuit weighed her down as she crossed a patchy lawn, and climbed slowly up the steps of her apartment. Her room was three floors up; she reached it, snorted at the keyhole, and unlocked it with her mind.

It was a small place that she stepped into. The lights flicked on, revealing a sofa and TV crammed onto a small patch of carpet and takeout boxes strewn across her oven.

They also revealed a yellow puddle right in front of the door, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Ugh, seriously? Fluffy, come here now!’

There was no response.

“Mr Fluffington, I know it was you!” She shut the door and started looking under tables. “What, you think  I  peed on the floor? I don’t think so, buster! Get your butt out here!”

There came a hissing sound from the oven. She glanced over, and dashed over when smoke started puffing out of it.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna set off the smoke alarm!” She opened the oven door and started waving the smoke away. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself? Huh?”

There, curled up on the metal rack, was a baby purple dragon. Fluffy was about the size of a housecat, with soft wings that barely moved when it puffed itself up, and sharp, needle-like teeth. She saw him bare them at her, and snorted as she scooped him into her arms.

“I missed you too, you grump.” Fluffy settled against her as she walked him over to the puddle. “Now, what is this? Huh?”

All she got was a low rumble.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Hm… maybe I need to take you out more?” She felt him shift, and let him scamper out of her arms. “I’ll take that as a yes. Ugh, I wish you’d fit in a dog costume.”

Fluffy padded through the bedroom door, and she rubbed her shoulder. Yeah, she wanted to take all this stuff off already… just one thing she had to do before that. The kitchen cupboards opened, and she levitated a paper towel and some cleaner into her hands.

She dealt with the puddle, took her shirt off, and struggled with the wetsuit’s zipper as she headed into the bedroom. At first glance, the mess looked just as unremarkable as the kitchen’s; there were piles of dirty clothes strewn everywhere, and bedsheets left on the floor.

But here, there were glints. Here, there were paintings on every wall, strangely large paintings with strangely elaborate frames. Here, a dragon was picking old socks off of a nest of golden necklaces; he perked up as she pulled her bag out of her wetsuit.

“You hear something, Fluffy?” The bag jangled when she shook it. “Yeah, that’s right. Sit!”

Fluffy barrelled over to paw at her legs.

‘No, sit. Sit? Si- ugh, you’re lucky you’re cute.” She drew out a chain with a thick golden pendant; there was writing on the front she couldn’t read. “Wow, this stuff… is ugly. Heh, no wonder they put it in a museum, right? Couldn’t find anyone who’d want to wear it!”

Fluffy continued scratching at her, oblivious to her very clever zinger. She rolled her eyes, and dumped the lot onto him.

“Go nuts, buddy.”

He let out an excited puff of smoke as ten or so golden chains rained down on her. Immediately he started dragging them towards his little nest, and she snorted.

“Hope that’s comfy.” She levitated a laptop into her hands and flopped onto her bed, grunted as the springs squeaked. “Probably comfier than my mine, eh?”

She laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear some muffled shrieks coming from it; probably the kids who lived upstairs. Her legs tingled a little bit, and she moved them to get rid of the pins and needles.

It was… nice, here. It was quiet enough. She looked over at Fluffy, rumbling contentedly as he arranged his nest, and managed a smile.

Today was a good day. It was.

She knew just what would make it even better.

With a flick of her wrist, she opened her laptop and turned it on. It was a tough old thing, with a thick screen and missing keys, and she tapped the side as it booted. It eventually did, loading up to a browser stuffed with tabs, and she opened one more, typed in ‘museum’, and hit enter.

A grin spread across her face as the news stories loaded. Jackpot. She clicked the first one.

Transcendence History Museum Theft Likely Connected to Recent String of Museum Robberies

It’s not an unfamiliar sight to NLA police at the Transcendence History Museum tonight. Witnesses describe a sudden, chaotic break-in at around 8:37PM when a woman, said to be in scuba gear, reportedly smashed through the building’s skylight and forced her way into the security office before setting off an explosion in the main lobby. In the ensuing panic, she made off with a number of artifacts; police are still determining what exactly was taken, but it is known that a private collection of ceremonial Alcorian jewelry was on display. The price of the collection as a whole is estimated at-

“Half a million dollars!” She glanced over at Fluffy. “You hear that? I spoil you!”

He had already fallen asleep. With a chuckle, she kept reading.

It’s a bizarre sequence of events, but not a unique one this past year to the Winged City. Just three weeks ago, a smaller collection went missing when a person dressed in a Halloween pirate costume and identifying themselves as ‘Nunya Beeswax’, locked staff out of the gallery and proceeded to try on the exhibits in front of security cameras until police arrived.

She started giggling. That was a good one.

There are many more burglaries that may read off as humourous, but it is important to remember here: these are burglaries. Real people are being harmed. Just tonight, owner of the stolen collection and CEO of FloatBus Mitchell Jark issued a furious statement to...

She bookmarked the story and clicked off, still chuckling about that pirate costume. Man, she had to do something like that again… what else were they saying about her?

In a little bedroom filled with riches, Matilda Ransen spent the night admiring her glittering headlines. She heard Fluffy’s deep rumble, and smiled to herself - he must be comfy.

He was, in fact, rather comfortable. The dragon curled tightly around one of the new pendants, which had become warm to the touch.

Its inscription, and the symbol of the Dreamer’s Star etched on the back, now glowed a deep, wrathful red.