#this book and the way shes describing it is pissing me off so bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 10 months ago

Text

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

Please follow @punkshort-notifs for fic updates

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

689 notes · View notes

rightwheretheyleftme · 1 month ago

Text

I’m watching Korra book 2 and I have so many emotions about Aang’s neglect of his kids

After watching ATLA earlier this year, I started following a bunch of fan accounts and saw the same discourse regurgitated over and over again; One of the main points of discourse is whether Aang was bad father.

The discussions that I saw would always play out the same way. Aang’s detractors would say: “Aang didn’t take 2/3 of his kids on vacations. That’s neglect” and Aang’s defenders would reply “Aang is not a bad father! The places that he took Tenzin to were built for airbenders so Kya and Bumi wouldn’t have anything to do there!” And you know what? When I was reading those arguments, I thought that both sides had valid points and that this was a complex discussion.

Oh boy.

Now that I’m watching the episode, I realized that the people in this fandom are lying through their teeth. Aang only taking 1 out of his 3 kids on vacations is true, but the claim that that happened because Aang only visited places made for airbenders is completely false. Let’s recap the places that Aang and Tenzin went to:

- Kyoshi Island; to ride the elephant koi

- Ember Island; to build sandcastles on the beach

Now explain to me, why on earth does the majority of the fandom say that Aang went to airbender-only places? Kyoshi and Ember islands have 0 historical significance to the airbenders. These are just fun vacation spots, we know this because we saw the Gaang vacation at these places multiple times.

Moreover, according to Bumi, Aang was busy due to his job as the Avatar but he made time for Tenzin, only Tenzin. Kya agrees with this.

I’m so disgusted by this information. There is no way that a grown man in his 40s wouldn’t realize that taking only 1 of your kids on fun vacations and leaving the others behind is hurtful, the only possible conclusion that you can reach here is that Aang was intentionally trying to hurt his kids’ feelings.

And that breaks my heart.

This is not the Aang that I know and love. Aang is a fun, caring, accepting, and loving person. The behavior that I’ve described above is not only emotional neglect, it borders on abuse.

At first, I thought that maybe this storyline was meant to deconstrue the “The hero can do no wrong” cliché. Except that it ends with Kya and Bumi looking at a family picture and reminiscing about how happy they were. So no, there is no deconstruction; Aang is portrayed as a flawed but otherwise good father. Apparently, not loving 2/3 of your children enough to want to spend leisure time with them is a common flaw and not parental neglect, according to TLOK.

I feel so betrayed not only by the writers and the story that I love, but also by the fandom who silences victims of parental abuse when they are rightfully pissed off by Aang’s actions. I never wanted for Aang to be a neglectful father, but he is. Harassing people who are mad about his actions and calling them bitter Zutaras is a disgusting way to try to silence conversations about parental abuse.

Side note: Where tf was Katara while this was happening? Did she not take offense that her husband was neglecting 2/3 of her kids? Why didn’t Aang respect Katara enough to not play favorites with the kids she gave him?

#the legend of korra #anti bryke #tlok critical #anti tlok aang #katara deserved better #kya and bumi deserved better #anti kataang #I actually like the ship in ATLA but now it’s ruined 🙃

194 notes · View notes

too-many-rooks · 1 month ago

Text

What's the deal with Patrice?

Patrice is such an intriguing but enigmatic character in season four the show; I ended the season pretty fascinated by him (and how he fits into a certain type *cough* Yassen *cough*) so flocked to the books for more details. In ‘Spook Street’, he's one of our POV characters, so we get a much more internal perspective of his thinking, his character, and his history at Les Arbes.

So I've collated some quotes from the book that I think shine an interesting light on him, for general information, and as a fic writing resource.(please please write fic about patrice pls pls pls)

Under the cut are some book spoilers from 'Spook Street'. I've not yet read past this book, so there are no further book spoilers, and nothing here spoils major plot points that you won't already know if you've seen season four, though I highly recommend the books!

This is broken down into sections about...

His relationship with his mother and his father (Who is not Frank in the book,)

His attachment to Bertrand, (And how that connects to his interactions with River,)

His general character traits,

His indoctrination and relationship with Frank.

General Character traits.

One of the things that particularly struck me about Patrice, is how normal he's described as being, at least on the surface. He is careful, measured, and rational. He's clearly very good at what he does, but doesn't seem to derive too much pride from his skills, he wants to complete his targets, report his successes, and move on.

Starting with a more generalised collection of quotes, these passages give insight into his thought process, perspective, and relationship to his work and general character.

In pretty stark contrast to River, who spends most of his time flailing about without a clue what's going on, especially during his time in France -

'He knew precisely where he was-wouldn't dream of setting foot on hostile land without memorising routes-' p.223

His connection to his cold body, Paul Wayne, is something ingrained in him from his earliest memory; Paul doesn't seem to be a persona or someone with a notably different character and behaviour; Paul both is and isn't Patrice. Also, he can speak without a French accent.

“None of which was news to Patrice. Who wasn’t Patrice today, but that was hardly news either. His passport proclaimed him Paul Wayne, and this required no mental adjustment: Patrice had been Paul Wayne for as long as he could remember. And Paul Wayne was as much at home in London, even the bad parts, as anywhere in France; could order a drink either side of the river, and nobody would bat an eye. Because Paul Wayne didn’t just speak English, he spoke English English, the same way he spoke French French. He’d have tied Henry Higgins in knots, and if that wasn’t enough to piss Higgins off, Paul Wayne could have gone on to kill him with his bare hands in about fourteen different ways, because that, too, had been part of the training that had been taking place every moment of Patrice’s life. Patrice’s life was about being Paul Wayne. And today Paul Wayne was taking one Sam Chapman off the board.” p.279

In a fight, he's able to keep his head, and stay focused on the facts. In the garage when he's trying to kill Sam, he manages to take down -

“Two of them, and both down. It had taken seconds. There was no pride in the thought. He was simply monitoring the situation.” p.306

We see again his calm, unemotional response to combat during his attack on Slough House.

“He sensed that the woman’s gun was empty, because there was fear in her eyes, and she did not look like someone who would be scared holding a loaded gun. Microseconds, these thoughts took. Less. It was part of what he’d learned at Les Arbres, in its woods and in its cellars; that you measured a situation in the moment you became part of it, and that what you did next was less action than response—you became part of the inevitable: that was what he had been taught. What would happen next was fixed from the moment he’d kicked the door down. All that remained was for the bodies to hit the floor.” p.455

Natasha and Yevgeny.

In the book, the woman from Les Arbes that River meets, Natasha, is a bit different. Instead of Bertrand's mother, she's Patrice's. Similarly, Natasha was a local girl, who was impregnated when she was around 18, by an older man from Les Arbes, though in the books he's a character called Yevgeny. Deviating from the show, Natasha doesn't seem to have any particularly negative feelings toward Yevgeny, though she recognises their age gap, and how constricted her life would be if she stayed with him.

Yevgeny is Russian, 'of course', (p.256), a former KGB spy who had worked at the Russian embassy in London. (p.320). In his interrogation, Frank mentions a KGB member 'who specialised in what Harkness called mental calibration.' (p.495) It's unclear exactly what this means, but seems to suggest Yevgeny played a pretty central role in forming the minds of their home-grown assassins.

Natasha and Yevgeny meet in a bar, in the summer of 1990, and she eventually becomes pregnant.

'"My parents are very angry with me, and with Yevgeny too. He was much older than me. In his thirties." "And how did he react?" Her eyes became faraway again. "He is happy. He say he will be good father, and we will live happily ever after."' p.257.

Aware that this version of a happily ever after constricts her world to the two bridges that mark her village, and the next one along the river, Natasha feels constrained. She wants to go to Paris, wants to see the world - but doesn't seem to want to leave Yevgeny, instead, she wants -

'"Yevgeny to take me away. Not keep me here." "Did you have the baby?" "Yes. A boy, Patrice. And he does what babies do, which is cry a lot, and I was just eighteen... So one night... I leave the house with some money I have saved and I catch a train to Paris, which is how I get to see parts of the world which are not between these two bridges."' p.258.

During this time in Paris, she became a prostitute. She comes back to the area, after ten years or so, because her father has died and she's able to come back.

'“All that time Yevgeny has [Patrice], at Les Arbres. My parents never see him, my father because he does not want to, and my mother because my father. But Yevgeny sends her photographs. I have these pictures still. I will show them to you.” “I went there, of course. To Les Arbres. But they do not let me in. Yevgeny, he comes out. He tells me I am not welcome, that I am no longer Patrice’s mother. That he has a family, and does not need me.” “I’m sorry,” River said. “I too. Because I know he is right, I am not Patrice’s mother. I give him birth, that is all. But still, I want to see him, I demand to see him, and then Frank comes, and Frank, he is very clear, very direct. He tells me that unless I leave, he will have police arrest me. He will tell them that not only am I a prostitute but a drug addict also, and other things like that. Threats.”' p.260.

Yevgeny sends Patrice's grandmother pictures of him until she dies when he is ten. This is the last photo she has of her son, and the last time she has seen him, but she seems keen to be reunited.

‘“If you find my son,” she said, “you will tell me, yes? You will tell me where he is?” River lied to her, as sincerely as he knew how.’ (p.265).

Later, after being taken captive by him, River mentions both of his parents to try and sway or disrupt Patrice.

During the initial assault on the convoy, when he's about to shoot Flyte, River repeatedly calls him by his name, and tells him "It's not what Yevgeny would want." (p.359.) This is enough to make Patrice pause, not shoot Flyte, and question who this guy is.

River gets kidnapped, and him and Patrice have a weird date (which we will go into in more detail about below), and as he's taking him to Frank, River goes for another attempt at using his family to throw him off.

'“I met your mother today,” he said. “Natasha.” Patrice said nothing. “She misses you.” Patrice shook his head, but still said nothing. “She wants to know you’re all right. It worried her, when Les Arbres burned down. Any mother would worry.” “I have no mother.” “She didn’t abandon you, you know. Or at least—she came back. She wanted to see you, to be with you. They wouldn’t let her.” “I have no mother,” Patrice repeated. “She was there for years. Never far away. In case you needed her.” Patrice looked at him and said, “Those things never happened. Stop talking.” “I will if you want. But I don’t think you do.” As casually as if he were swatting a fly, Patrice reached out to slap River’s cheek, but River had been expecting this, or something like it, and blocked the blow. But not the second, which was aimed at his throat. Patrice pulled it at the last second, or River would have been laid out on the pavement. Patrice said, “Stop now. Or I’ll make you.”' (p.406)

From this, we can understand that any mention of his mother wanting to be re-united was kept from him. His insistence that he has no mother, seems to suggest he was told nothing about her at all, other than that she abandoned him, not even Frank's story of her being a drug-addicted prostitute.

Patrice is unwilling, or unable, to consider that his mother was so close all that time, and still wants to see him and cares about him. He defaults to violence to make River stop voicing these challenging ideas.

His connection with Yevgeny is less clear, but what we hear of him is interesting. His wanting, and being excited for a child, which might have been him fulfilling Frank's orders, keeping Natasha away after she abandoned them, again fits with Frank's wishes to keep the mothers away, but possibly reflects a genuine sense of betrayal, and belief that he is giving Patrice all the family that he needs.

And the pictures; taking a picture of his son every year to send to a woman he doesn't see, who doesn't approve of him, but who is also so clearly in her husbands's control that she wouldn't be in much of a position to kick up a fuss about it if he didn't, creating a potential security risk in circulating evidence of them all together, of the children all together, it's a hell of a thing to do. It introduces this really compelling nuance about how much, if at all, the men at Les Arbes loved their children.

Bertrand

In the pictures Yevgeny sends Patrice's grandmother, sometimes he is in the company of the other children raised at Les Arbes. The book tells us -

“The eldest two, they were at Les Arbres from the beginning. I do not remember their names. And here,” and she plucked a photo from the pile of her son at five or so, with another boy, slightly younger, “this is Patrice with Bertrand. Bertrand is Frank’s son.” “There are six or seven children in the end. All boys. The first two, and then Patrice and Bertrand and two or three more.” p.261

This seems to suggest Patrice and Bertrand were born at a similar time, and possibly constitute their own age group separate from the older two, and younger two(or three).

It's clear that Patrice and Bertrand were close, and he's upset about the likelihood of him being killed, and the possibility of him being taken captive by Mi5, but he can rationalise his death, based on the mistakes he had made. He feels his emotions, expresses them, and then moves on.

'Patrice loved Bertrand like a brother, but facts were facts; Bertrand had been known to falter at critical moments.' p.223 'Squirting cleanser onto the wind-screen, he watched as the wipers smeared the seagull's mess into a grey film. Another clean-up job that made things worse. Then he cried, very briefly, for Bertrand, who was probably dead; squirted more cleanser, and ran the wipers again.' p.225

When River comes back to London using the Adam Lockhead passport, unlike in the show, in the book Patrice thinks it might be Bertrand; here his connection to Bertrand, being the only emotional connection he has left, is displayed again.

"Attachments were encouraged only because without them, there was nothing to purge. Bertrand, though, had been the attachment Patrice had never purged himself of. If Bertrand was alive they could complete this mission together and get the fuck off this godforsaken island.” p.350

Re-uniting with, or freeing Bertrand, finishing their mission, and leaving the country is therefore a top priority.

“Life at Les Arbres had taught him to grasp what needed doing, which here meant reaching St. Pancras before the action moved on. If Bertrand’s passport was flagged, there’d be security waiting. And of all the things that couldn’t be allowed to happen, Bertrand falling into the hands of MI5 ranked way up high.” p.351

Attacking the convoy and discovering the prisoner MI5 have isn't Bertrand, is evidently an upsetting experience for him.

“Because he wasn’t Bertrand, but in that first moment, Patrice thought he was: they had the same features, almost; the same hair. Eyes. Something was going on; crawling under the skin, like a worm inside an apple.” p.350

“Who are you?” Patrice repeated. “Adam Lockhead,” River said. The name cut a groove through Patrice’s expression. “No. Where’s Bertrand? And why . . . ” p.360

And thus kicks off Patrice and River's weird little kidnapping date, a sequence that is significantly longer and juicier in the book than being shoved in the back of a stolen car.

River

River and Patrice have a really interesting dynamic. They're both clearly fascinated by the other, and want to know what's going on. Patrice has technically kidnapped him, and is threatening and hurting him, but River's not exactly trying too hard to run away.

During the attack on the convoy, Patrice tells him they will be leaving together.

'Patrice spoke so calmly he might have been choosing fruit. “We. You and me. Or I’ll kill you here.”' p.361,

River tries to punch him, but he's not totally opposed to the idea -

‘Last thing he was doing was leaving Patrice’s side; not until he’d had a chance to question him about Les Arbres, about the commune, and about why Patrice’s comrade-in-arms had come to kill the O.B.’ p.387 “Not quite a prisoner, then, though hardly an accomplice, he stayed by Patrice’s side." p.387

The two travel by tube, where phone connection means any news about the attack on Pentonville Road would travel slowly, and anyone who thinks they might recognise them easily dismisses it. Also, Patrice pretends to be River's boyfriend.

“Patrice stayed close; one hand on River’s shoulder, as if for balance.” p.387

“Patrice hit him so quickly that nobody saw: not the passers by, hurrying through the rain; not the fellow travellers still sheltering from the downpour. Certainly not River. First he knew about it was, Patrice was lowering him into a sitting position, murmuring calm words. “He’s okay.” This for the benefit of those nearby. “He gets claustrophobic, that’s all.” To River: “Maybe put your head between your knees?” Somebody said, “Are you sure he’s all right? Should we get help? “He’ll be fine. I’m always telling him, we should take taxis. But no, he insists on the underground, and here we are again.” “My boyfriend’s just the same.” Any other time River might have protested the emphasis on My, but at the moment he was coping with a lot of frazzled nerve ends, as if Patrice had laid into him with a cattle prod rather than his little finger, or whatever it was he’d used to do whatever it was he’d done.” p.389 “Patrice maintained the fiction established for them by sitting next to River and putting his arm round his shoulders. He leaned close, as if whispering sweet consolation, and reminded River: “That required no effort on my part.” River said, “Last time someone hurt me like that . . . ” He paused for breath. “Yes?” “I knocked half his brains out with a length of lead pipe.” Patrice made a show of looking here, there, in front, behind. “Don’t see any lead pipe.” “You won’t.” Patrice’s phone chirruped. “Do you mind? I really ought to take this.” He stood and walked a few paces off. River looked around for a length of lead pipe, but his heart wasn’t in it.” p.389

Patrice and River's weird dates continues on to his meeting with Frank, River leading the way when he knows the destination, on a boat painted to resemble dazzle boats from the first world war.

“Patrice said, “That’s something.” River, as if explaining an object of national pride to a tourist, said, “They were painted like that to confuse submarines. It made it harder to sink them, to pinpoint them as targets.” “And that worked?” “Well, this one’s still here.” p.404

Meeting with Frank, Patrice gets some kisses and a pep talk we don't hear, then comes back to say goodbye to River and tell him how they ought to do this again sometime, and melts away into the rain to go murder all his friends & and his Grandpa.

“Patrice paused, then leaned forward, hands in pockets, and kissed River on the cheek. One cheek only. He said, “We will speak again soon.” Then he walked back the way they’d come; just a man hurrying through the rain, eager for the next place of shelter.” p.409

Frank

Patrice's most notable moments of internal fucked-up-edness come from when he's reflecting on his past, his education at Les Arbes, and his connection with Frank. His loyalty is unshakeable and goes as far as hurting himself when he thinks critically about him.

What we learn about a childhood (or the absence of one) at Les Arbes, is also very notable.

Like Patrice, like Bertrand, like all of them, Yves had had his childhood removed even while it was happening, and replaced by qualities Frank favoured: obedience to him, and reliance on no other. p.350

We can see this focus on total obedience to Frank being ingrained very early on, with orders, or 'instructions', being performed without question.

“And an instruction from Frank, who had been giving him instructions since he was a toddler, and who had ensured, way back then, that there was no question of Patrice not carrying them out.” p.428

And then there's the cellar.

“For one brief moment, he remembered the cellar. Each of the boys, on their twelfth birthday, had been locked in a cellar at Les Arbres, with no natural light and just one candle. Every morning, a single bread roll and a beaker of water was delivered. And every morning, they were told they would be released as soon as they asked for their freedom. Bertrand, Patrice remembered, had lasted just seventeen days before asking to be released. Patrice remembered Frank’s look of disdain at his son’s reappearance, as if it were an act of cowardice, or betrayal. Patrice himself had lasted a full month: at the time, a new record. Yves had lasted two.” (434)

I'm fascinated by the cellar. I'm fascinated by how long a boy is supposed to stay in the cellar. Bertrand, at seventeen days, clearly does not last long enough. Before Yves, no one had done better than Patrice's record of a month.

(Also, a brief note bc I spent too long fretting over it when I was writing my fic but; just one candle? How are they meant to light the candle? Is there a way to start a fire in the basement? Do they need to ask? Is asking for light also a reflection of weakness?)

From this passage, we can infer quite a lot about these three boys. Bertrand, who had been 'known to falter', does poorly, with his seventeen days, and Frank is clearly very disappointed in him.

(Diversion again bc I'm curious if this sets a trend for the rest of their relationship, where in conversation with River later on, he's able to discuss his son's death very unpersonally, their connection being as vague as "Someone he shared a lift with once," being dissapointed that he'd managed to let the an old man get the best of him, "It's like, lesson one. Don't let your guard down just because the target appears harmless." p.410 He tells River he's 'screaming inside', and hurting over Bertrand's death, but needs to focus on the mission, and that mission having pivoted recruiting River, is also cracking jokes about doing his whole 'I am your father' speech in a Darth Vader voice. (p.425, p.410)

Back to the cellar and Les Arbes. Patrice sets a record; lasting a whole month is evidently seen as an achievement, and doesn't seem to earn any of the scorn and disappointment Bertrand does.

Yves two months, though, is apparently somewhat alarming - from the books we learn that Yves was basically too into everything at Les Arbes, and took his terrorist training too literally, too extremely. Natasha is unnerved by her memories of him, and singles him out from the others as being creepy, looking at people 'like they are a different species... Like they are insects, or worse. Lower than insects.' p.264

We see Patrice's opinion of Yves carried on in this extract, when he talks about on his seventh birthday, being handed a photo of his mother who he'd never met, staring at it for five minutes, and then being handed a box of matches by Frank, and burning it with no hesitation, and 'glee in his eyes.'

"Patrice had been frightened of Yves, a little. He sometimes wondered if Frank had been too." p.350

Reflecting on their time in the cellar, Patrice briefly thinks about how...

“Frank should have known that there would come a time when Yves’s desire to prove he could go further than any of them would see him step over each and every line there was.” p.435

This thought, that a child-soldier radicalised from birth and pushed to the edge in every conceivable way, might end up going a bit far, and the all-knowing figure of total obedience in their life should have realised that, requires instant self-inflicted punishment from Patrice.

“But this thought, that Frank should have known, demanded punishment, and Patrice submitted to the moment, lashing out at the pebble-dashed wall, then licking the resulting blood from his knuckles. He had deserved that. Nobody could have known where Yves’s demons would take him. It was this place that was breeding such ideas: rainy London, its blues and greys seeping into his soul. Well, Patrice wouldn’t be here much longer. This last task done, he and Frank could vanish back to the mainland: Les Arbres was smoke and ashes, but they’d find somewhere. And the others would return—except for Bertrand, of course; except for Yves—and life would start again.”

Here, we have this moment of self-flagellation for thinking critically about Frank, which seems so instinctual I have to believe it's another thing drummed into them from an early age, also backed up by Patrice hurting himself again during his assault on Slough House -

“Deliberately, he banged his head against the wall, twice. Clarity of a kind returned.” p.450

In addition, we also see how Patrice can rationalise Frank's failures as not his fault. It wasn't Les Arbes that corrupted Yves, but London, and being in London was corrupting him too. He can't escape with Bertrand, and the only home he's known is gone, but he wants to reunite with the others and have his life start again.

But we all know that never happens.

#Slow Horses #Patrice #Slow Horses Patrice #Patrice Harkness #Patrice Fedchenko #I don't know how to tag him #Slow horses season 4 #slow horses s4 #Spook Street #Les Arbes #Frank Harkness #Bertrand Harkness #River Cartwright #Slow horses meta #meta #long post

42 notes · View notes

itsjustmylifeconfessions · 6 months ago

Text

Whenever I doubt myself I remember that there are people with 0 brain cells that are writing the biggest show in the world.

Blood and cheese was terribly done. Absolutely awful writing, especially adding Alicent and Cole at the end, that was ridiculous. To make Daemon want Aemond instead of actually having him order the killing of a boy? I hate how scared they are to make team black bad people. They are all bad people, from both teams. Daemon ordered the murder of a child but these idiots don't want to make team black the bad guys, ever, so let's write him not ordering this and make it another misunderstanding, why not?

Ridiculous.

It's not just about b&c, but their refusal of making team black grey characters, from the start, is so stupid. They can't be villains, they are the heroes, good people suffering an injustice, and we can't have our heroes doing a terrible thing like this!

That is the mentality of a middle school writer working on a kid's play. If you can only write black and white characters you shouldn't be writing for asoiaf.

The interesting part of the story is that they are all doing bad things, that's why fans like the book so much, cause it's fucking interesting to see them all doing bad shit.

I'm not upset cause I'm team green, I just hate bad writing so much...

Yes I'm aware that Daemon smirked when the guy asked what to do if they can't find Aemond, probably telling them to get one of the kids instead (but not showing us this of course cause we can't have even more proof that this man is a piece of shit), but that is not the same as him actually ordering the murder of a little boy with his own words as the first choice.

They turned one of the most gruesome and horrible moments in the story into a 3 min point and run moment, with a laughable 'catching your mom having sex is weird right?' ending. This takes away all the pain we are supposed to be feeling in that moment. This takes so much from Helaena as well, what the book describes is so fucking sad and gives her character so much more depth.

I also wish they had given more for Phia to work with, she was incredible but that was a pivotal moment for her character and she deserved to be given more in that scene. And don't tell me they didn't do it like the book because it would be traumatic for the kids because yes it is possible to shoot that with and without the kids, you just have to be specific about the framing and shots you use, it's all about camera work.

Do I understand Helaena dissociation in that moment? Absolutely. Did I want to see a little boy getting his head cut off? Absolutely not, no one did, we are not psychopaths. But it does piss me off that they wrote such a pivotal scene in such a bad way, that was supposed to be red wedding levels of shock and pain, and the most shocking thing was Alicent on top of Criston (good for her tbh she deserves to have fun).

They have been terrible writers from the start, for both teams (Rhaenys in the coronation is pure comedy to me), but this to me is painful how bad it was. The only good thing about that scene is Phia's acting.

Anyway that's just how I feel about it. I have so many thoughts about this but I don't think I'll write more, so I'll just say this:

Don't give up on your dreams guys. Anyone can do it. Anyone.

#thank god for phia saban #we love you babe #and we love helaena too #house of the dragon #hotd #2x01 #a son for a son #helaena targaryen #aemond #alicent hightower #criston cole #aegon #daemon #team green #season 2 #blood and cheese #phia saban #hotd thoughts

87 notes · View notes

liampaynemysteriousdeath · 8 days ago

Note

Media saying: "....Witnesses describe his behaviour as increasingly erratic, including outbursts of frustration and references to his One Direction past."

You think that Liam's frustration included also the thing that he changed hotel cause fans was 24/7 outside his previous hotel, and then the same thing happened to Casasur Hotel?

good question.

Its hard to believe what the media says, and it's also hard to even believe the pictures too. Allegedly they have been tampered with too...

But if you look at these pics. It seems to be the same guy and liam looks pissed.

Idk if the pic of liam standing liam by elevator was taken before or after they dragged him. Supposedly it was multiple times he was taken up and down the elevator. Allegedly, he passed out in the elevator according to some sources.

I had always mentioned on this blog that it seemed like there were no fan pics taken outside the casasur hotel. Only the Hyatt hotel.

Im not saying that one girl who went on argentina news was a liar, I think her name was dayana or Daniella(?). I believe the news station was called general noticias iirc.

And she said he was going to come back down after he was gonna eat something. But it's strange she didn't get a video of him at all? Or even a pic of him walking back inside hotel. It was full glass panels after all. (Also does that mean roger was on his way with food? Allegedly he had brought liam cookies and mcdonalds the previous day?) Because liam didn't have access to his own money. apparently toger was controlling liams money. People think liam was given a sedative through the cookies. Also fans say liam was a big fan of cookies in general. So that was probably the best idea they thought of to drug him...

And now that we see these new leaked pics, I didn't see anyone standing in front of the front of hotel...? No fans...

Cause I remember the gonzalo article talking about how Liam stays at the Hyatt usually, but too many fans found him there. So apparently he switched to polo place. Gonzalo said he was going to join them on that trip(since he owns polo place), but had business in America to do... he also claimed liam was on the phone with him that day and seemed fine. He claimed liam had new phone or phone number iirc according to the article,

To my knowledge, they were all staying at hyatthotel, (roger, lulu, kate, liam). There's video of them getting in van from hyatt to go to nialls concert.

Then in Kate's last video where she leaves, they are at gonzalos polo house villa. Then liam and roger go to casasur. I doubt roger ever had a room booked there. Supposedly Roger only visited hotel 3 times to pay off liams hotel tab. Which also makes me wonder why did Roger bring him food from mcdonalds when he could have ordered something from restaurant. And then roger could have come over and paid for it. Also I had a theory that roger was controlling liam acting as a sover coach, which possibly could've pissed liam off making him more erratic, plus if liam was hungry, hunger puts people km bad mood. Also why did Roger leave his friend alone in a sketchy hotel? Why didn't he invite liam to his house?

Liam didn't seem to have his suitcase, which seems likely considering he kept rotating similar outfits and of course the rumor that Kate left with his credit cards and only had 18 dollars to his name. (See eternal liams twitter for her theory on liam was victim of human trafficking).

And then idk ifyou saw my postfrom other day talking about how lulu was saying do you have the drug an on phone with brayan allegedly. Also idk if you saw my post linking brayan to lula. They've been friends for at least a year. So after the polo place visit, they go to casasur where brayan delivers drugs.

Also the brayan pic seems imo to have been taken back in May when liam went to argentina for louis concert. Liam had a fullerface back then.

Anyways, back to your question...

Did those dudes grab him off the couch and left his laptop there? Then go on it themselves to look through his laptop? There's also the broken tv pic where you can see what looks like a reflection of laptop on the bed. Alongside a possible black cap...but even then people say it could've been a different room staged.

Liam could've been aggravated by getting harassed by the staff obviously them grabbing him would've pissed off anyone and obviously someone would act erratically. But the media tries to spin it like he was crazy and on drugs, etc. Which he could've technically had some untraceable drugs in his system for all we know. Maybe a sedative perhaps. But he was trying to renew his visa which meant he needed to be clean.

I know with almost all substances there is called a half-life and it only shows up in the body for a certain amount of time before it is excreted though the body, whether urine,sweat, etc. Certain substances don't even show up on drugtests. There is a rumor that Christian a, who bought rogers company on the day liam performed at his birthday party (may 2022or may 2923 idr exactly), had hallucinogenic that couldn't be tracked on drug tests. Christian was into mushrooms and hallucinogenics and made a company.

And on liams YT channel, he attended Christians lunch thing. And later liam invested in one of Christians companies and also did an art thing with crypto.

Well also we have to remember that he also stayed at gonzalo's polo place too. No one has made a hard timeline of liams movements throughout his staying argentina. On top of that, that roger has been deleting stuff from liams social media. Tiktok specifically. Roger specifically posted liams last video at polo place to throw people off to show that liam was "fine". While roger did his dirty work behind scenes. It seems that a lot of footage for social media was filmed all at once and released in increments to throw people off his trail.

Also how brayan said that Liam was supposedly paranoid. (If it's true, maybe he was paranoid was gonna kill him.) But of course, people say he was paranoid because of the drugs.

The psychiatrist visit for liam happened during the trip bevause you need a psych eval in order to get visa approved.

And idk if you saw the postsfrom, the other day where i posted screenshots from eternal liam on twitter. She mentioned that mayas family had ties to abc news. Supposedly the first toxicology report came from American abc news. And why did it come out so fast after he had just passed away? It usually takes up to 6 weeks to have results. So it seemed the first toxicology report was from America and falsified on purpose,

Also how would an America source have more Info than the locals? Doesn't make sense.

Sorry I totally went on a random rant again haha. Hopefully I answered your question lol.

#liam payne #justice for liam payne

28 notes · View notes

sunfortune · 7 months ago

Note

can I ask what bridgerton books you’ve read and if they’re worth it

i read “the viscount who loved me” yeeeeears ago. and it is still probably my fav regency romance novel. it’s not even perfect. i just loooved the characterizations. (they’ll NEVER make me hate you book kate) and i think the banter and slow burn in the first half of the book was SOOO good. and literally what so many romance novels LACK. bc insta-lust/love just doesn’t pack the same punch. i’m sorry

also i litchrally claimed kate as a women of color in my own delusions back when i was literally reading a standard White Ass Regency Romance Novel (BEFORE there was ever any show) bc i just loved kate that much. and was like WHOS gonna beat my ass⁉️ (this was after still star crossed lol) she was a woman of color. TO ME.

plus they described kate as “dark” and edwina as “fair” in the book a lot which i know just meant hair/eyes but i was like. slay! no take backs! LDMLSJSKSJ

(so despite everything about the way the show did kate i did absolutely WIN in that aspect)

next. the second book i read was “romancing mister bridgerton”. (again. this is before there was ever a show) bc i liked the little of penelope i saw in kanthonys book. but then. well. reading that book is when i realized “the viscount who loved me” might have been a fluke bc WHAT in the world. “romancing mister bridgerton” was just 350 pages of penelope getting dogged by the boringest MOST bitchless man on earth. the way she PINED for colin from literally page 1. PAGE ONE. but the book doesn’t spend a SINGLE second making him compelling in ANY way, shape or form was MIND boggling. AND THEN gave him the audacity to treat HER like shit⁉️

and the WHOLE TIME the book is like they’re friends to lovers btw!!! hehe <333. NO THEY WERENT! DONT piss me off rn. that man was NOT her friend. he was nice to her ONLY when he deemed her below him. and as soon as he found out she had success in something he didn’t, it was immediate disdain and disrespect for her. that’s not a friend?!

ALL WHILE! she falls all over herself bc of how bad she wants him. i wanted to get her the fuck out of her OWN romance when i was reading that book. i could not believe what it was selling as real true love. garbage

next. i was debating if i should check out another book after that mess. bc i didn’t know if the other were also bad. and eventually just decided to start from the beginning (moment of silence 😞) and pulled up “the duke and i” and then as im reading the synopsis i stumble on a review detailing the plot and that describes the actual sexual assault in that book that gets played off as romance.

aaand i have NOT touched another bridgerton book since

i Have heard eloise’s book and romance is awful by mutuals who have read them all. and benedict’s is not very great either. francesca’s book may be the only worthy follow up to tvwlm. those 2 are generally considered the better ones of the series.

i’m still recovering from the ones i have read though so wont be able to confirm any time soon

in conclusion:

the viscount who loved me (my best friend still idc. not perfect but very gorgeous to me)

romancing mister bridgerton (hot garbage. argue with your mother)

the duke and i (burning books is not always bad. it would be fine here)

#ask #bridgerton #books

60 notes · View notes

drpoisonoaky · 1 year ago

Text

Katara is sick (Part 2)

Part 1

Toph: So I ended up making my statue myself. Zuko: Good riddanc- Spirits what is that smell? Toph: I swear I took a shower today. Zuko: No. This came from the kitchens. Toph: Oh that smell. Definitely, somebody is burning something. It’s gonna be good when princess fussy-pants sees her dinner burned. Payback I gue- Zuko: No way. I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. Toph: That 's rude. Zuko: I don’t know how to de- Azula: I have no time for your shenanigans, as you perceive I’m busy. Zuko: Torturing a bloodline of seaweed? Toph: Oh men, the snooty princess is cooking? Describe it with all details. Zuko: It looks bad. Why are you trying to cook? You haven't cooked a single meal in your life. Azula: Katara is sick. Zuko: We know. Toph: So you decided to piss off her ancestors?

Azula: Quite the opposite. A while ago, she told me how her Gran-Gran makes them soup whenever they feel sick, and how she always feels better afterwards. So I’m trying to do that.

Azula: I read all the cooking books but something isn’t right; the soup shouldn’t be black, right?

Azula: Quite the opposite. A while ago she told me how her Gran-Gran makes them soup whenever they feel sick, and how she always feels better afterwards. So I’m trying to do that. Azula: I read all the cooking books but something isn’t right, the soup shouldn’t be black, right? Toph: Who would have thought the prissy princess really has a heart. Zuko: But not the right skills to do that. Stop. Azula: Zuzu, I need to give Katara the soup, I promise her a handmade soup. She looked awful, in her own terms obviously because even she’s sick she’s better than most people in their best da- Zuko: ‘Zula, buy her soup. There’s a great water tribe’s restaurant in 5 minutes. Stop this nonsense. Azula: But it has to be home made. Toph: I’m pretty sure if you go yourself and buy her soup, it counts as homemade. At least it would be edible, and I know Sugar Queen would love that. Azula: Fine. Next to that bakery? Zuko: Yep. Azula: Ugh. *goes for the soup* Toph: Sparky, is the same chick who conquered Ba Sing Se just destroying a kitchen to make a water tribe’s dish? Zuka: Same old Azula. Toph: And now she’s going, personally, to buy soup for her girl, even though she’s royalty, to give the soup the homemade effect? Zuko: That 's right. Toph: *whistles* The power of Katara. Azula: I STILL CAN HEAR YOU ASSHOLES.

#atla #azula #avatar the last airbender #katara #azutara #katara is sick #toph #zuko #fire siblings

75 notes · View notes

wolf-tail · 6 months ago

Text

Even if Rowling wasn't completely off the holocaust denying deep-end, the way she wrote those wizard books kind of pisses me off now that i'm older because they have so much potential to be better than they actually were.

Like, middle school me was eating that shit up for a reason, you don't become one of the most popular authors in the world who created one of the most well-known pieces of literature in the world off of dumb luck. There were things she did right. Unfortunately , now that i'm older I can see everything she did wrong. And my writer's brain mixed with my ego is telling me that I could make it better.

Implant a heavier theme of the wizarding world's patronizing bullshit and entitlement. Like seriously, the complete unwarranted superiority complex that these chuckle fucks have is obnoxious beyond belief. Even middle school me knew that there was no good reason to keep magic away from the people they made up a slur for. Maybe that should have been the main theme of the books.

Seriously, it ties in so well with the evil wizard supremacy sublot. The solution to systemic discrimination is not to get rid of bigoted people. It's to tear down those systems entirely. The wizarding world seriously needs a status quo shake up.

Revamp the house elves or just cut them out entirely. Just don't fucking justify slavery. IT'S NOT THAT HARD!!!

Maybe this is lefist brain talking but do not make Harry grow up to be a fucking magic cop. In fact, I would have had made the Aurors be unbelievably awful and corrupt, just like a real cops!

Give the characters of color less racist names.

Stop describing your female villains as "mannish"

The greedy goblin banker theme is one of the most disgustingly antisemetic things i've ever had the displeasure of putting up with. What the fuck is wrong with you Joanne!? I would just cut that shit out.

The violent fatphobia grosses me out so much. When I was little I wanted Dudley to get a PROPER redemption arc so bad and not be abused for his weight. In fact , if I were Rowling, I would have added in a sublot about Dudley discovering his own magic to and having to unlearn the shit his parents taught him, as well as deal with their painful rejection of him. That would've been really cool.

Apparently lycanthropy was supposed to be a metaphor for HIV??? Ew, Joanne. No. It's like she never talked to a gay man in her life.

The "love" potions piss me off SO BAD. Voldemort's mother was not in love. She was a rapist. I would change that up entirely.

Snape is not a hero. He was an incel in a hate group. Acknowledge him as such and don't have Harry name his fucking kid after him.

Hey, quick question, why does the school have a blood supremacist house???? Why was this allowed??? Why did she write Slytherin to just be openly discriminatory towards mixed blood kids????

Whatever the dad Weasely's name is, I would have played off his whole "weeb for nonmagical people" thing as more patronizing and accidentally insensitive than endearing. He reminds me of white moms who say konichiwa to the waiter at Chinese restaurants and think they're "cultured".

For the love of god, treat the female characters other than Hermione with an OUNCE of respect.

Now that I know more about animal welfare and the exotic pet industry, Hagrid kinda gets on my nerves. I would add a sublot about him learning to respect the boundaries of wild animals.

I can't think of anything else that ticks me off about the books right now but I will come back to this if I do.

#Feel free to add your own suggestions #hp critical #harry potter critical #anti jkr #anti rowling

53 notes · View notes

the-phoenix-heart · 11 months ago

Text

Sorting Hat Chats - A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Heeeey I'm back again. Hunger Games is one of my recent hyperfixations, so I'm doing a sorting of the latest book/film. I'll only be sorting Coriolanus Snow and Lucy-Gray Baird in this post. And Dr. Gaul oops.

An explanation of the system I am using can be found here. (Credit: @wisteria-lodge )

SPOILERS FOR A BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES BOOK AND FILM

LUCY-GRAY BAIRD is a thriving, healthy Snake secondary through and through. She loves performing, she loves playing coy, and she clearly relishes in getting one up on her enemies. This is a woman who turn her death sentence into a concert. Her plan to defeat Reaper, someone larger and deadlier than her, is to piss him off and give him the run around until he dies of exhaustion (or drinks from a poisoned puddle). To get one up on Mayfair when her name is called Lucy-Gray puts a snake in her dress to freak her out and subsequently humiliate her on live TV. No punches held back.

She's described by her actress as "a performer in a hunt," and she is. She always gives off the impression that she is always acting and always authentic in every moment. Snow certainly can never tell if she's lying or not and for all his faults he is smart.

CORIOLANUS SNOW meanwhile is a Bird secondary (I know, oh the irony) and the two secondaries slot in well together. In ABOSAS we see how he is always calculating in every interaction how he can leverage this for the most gain. He wears a carefully manufactured mask playing up whatever trait he has to to get what he wants from the person he is talking to. That's the Actor Bird in him, he can't just become someone like Lucy-Gray can. Which is why Snow works so well as a mentor for her. He can make all the plans he wants and give her every advantage to win, and she can immediately go along with it without skipping a beat.

We also see his Bird secondary on full display when he starts to come into power. He immediately starts making plans for the 11th Hunger Games when he comes back to the Capitol. His signature method for killing people is poison, and in sixty years that never changes. It's a risky plan that always works so why would he change it? And of course we know after he becomes president just how much effort he puts into controlling Katniss with more and more plans.

As for their primaries, well, that's why they constantly misunderstand each other. Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray look at each other and they both see a Snake primary, but those aren't their true sortings. Lucy-Gray is wearing a Snake primary model, and Coriolanus is wearing a Snake primary performance, not even a model.

Lucy-Gray loves the Covey, but at the end of the day when Mayor Lipp wants her dead Lucy-Gray doesn't need to think twice about running away. She knows they can take care of themselves, and she values her own freedom above anything else. It's apparent also in how she treats Billy-Taupe. She loved him once, but the moment he cheated on her she immediately cut him out of her life and doesn't seem to regret that decision. "Without trust you might as well be dead to me."

Lucy-Gray is a Lion primary, and like her secondary it's healthy. Her mantra is "Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping." She's another example of the Jack Sparrow style of Lion primary, the Fae lion. Freedom is good and control is bad. It's also why when she leaves Snow she makes it a whole production where she sings him "The Hanging Tree" and runs around him as a way to fuck with him. She knows that Corio isn't the man she thought he was and she wants to show him she knows.

Lucy-Gray is the Yin to Katniss's Yang. Katniss is a famous Snake Lion, and Lucy-Gray is the inverse of that, a Lion Snake. That quote about Lucy-Gray being a performer in a hunt is followed by Katniss being "a hunter in a performance." The revolution in a small way begins with Lucy-Gray and is ended by Katniss. Lucy-Gray loves freedom before all else, and that means she is never going to fight the Capitol like Katniss would, "it's too early for [K]atniss," she says. But Katniss is that Snake primary who loves so deeply and devastatingly that of COURSE she would end up fighting the Capitol.

But I think Lucy-Gray likes Snake primaries. I think she likes how much the value freedom, but also the way they value their people. That's what she sees when she sees Snow, a man who will do anything to protect the people he loves over himself. But that's just a performance Snow puts on, because he knows that looks much more nobler than what he actually is.

Snow actually primary matches Lucy-Gray. When we see him he's a young lion. The impression I get from Snow is entitlement. He thinks because of the way he was born that he just inherently deserves to have what is owed to him. But after it's found out that he cheated to help Lucy-Gray win, he is stripped of what little he had and sent to be a peacekeeper. He doesn't know what he wants anymore, because he can't have what he truly wants, so he convinces himself what he wants is Lucy-Gray. Except, the moment he realizes he can absolutely still get that power he turns on her immediately.

His goals never change, in the end Snow does indeed land on top, as he achieves those goals. He becomes president, and then it becomes all about maintaining power and control. And that's the real crux of his Lion primary. Like Lucy-Gray he is a Fae Lion, but on the opposite end of the spectrum. Power and control are good, and he should have that over everyone else in the world. I also see his primary in his method of choice for killing people. He willingly poisons himself so no one catches on, that is some lion devotion to his cause of control.

But, despite him trying to appear completely composed at all times, you can see that very emotional Lion primary underneath it all. I mean, he's clearly obsessed with screwing over Katniss's life in particular because he sees both Lucy-Gray and Sejanus in her. Meanwhile everything he does that fucks with Peeta is to fuck with her, despite the fact that he was also part of that suicide threat. He doesn't like that emotional Lion I think. What he wants is to maintain control over everything, and the appear as though he has this carefully constructed worldview/ideology. He has these intelligent/convincing arguments on the power of hope and the purpose of the games. It can look very Bird to people, and I think it is. DR. GAUL is absolutely a Double Bird Mad Scientist, and I think Snow adopted a Bird primary model based off of hers.

So...

Lucy-Gray Baird - Lion primary, Snake model/Snake secondary

Coriolanus Snow - Lion primary, Bird model and Snake performance/Bird secondary

Dr. Gaul - Bird primary/Bird secondary

#lucy-gray and snow to me are so effective as a couple because they are doomed #they thought they loved each other because they saw themselves in the other #but at the end of the day corio only values control and lucy-gray values freedom above all else #sortinghatchats #sorting hat chats #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #lion snake #lion bird #the hunger games #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #abosas #thg

57 notes · View notes

overthestars-and-offtoneverland · 3 months ago

Text

So something I just realized is that I think Lemony Snicket helped me unmask some of the abusive narcissists in my life.

One specifically.

And it appears to be on accident.

Let me explain.

There are so many times in my childhood where my mother would get so damn offended by my intelligence or "otherness" to her and a weird amount of these memories are ASOUE related.

In chronological order:

I referred to Sunny as an infant. Like they do in the books. My mother, ever thinking she knows everything and I must be wrong. was insistent Sunny had to be a toddler because of the way I described how intelligent she was. (It's fiction, but okay Becky). I explained, no, they describe her as an infant. She can't even walk or talk. Unfortunately, my mother took this as an instance of me questioning her authority and intelligence (as she often did when I corrected her on factual information) and insisted I had to be wrong (even though I was reading the damn books and she wasn't) and that "infant" always meant "newborn." No, Becky. It's a synonym for "baby." It was being used as a synonym for "baby." I and Daniel Handler were both using it as a synonym for "baby." In fact, in some terms in psychology, you're an infant until you're freaking five. Why is this something you want to fight with your 8-year-old about you freaking child?

Got offended that I was reading a book where all the adults were stupid. (I'm gonna let that one speak for itself)

She made me put wrong information on school work because she refused to even look at physical evidence she was wrong. What was she so adamant about? The bitch thought there was a "T" in the word "Orphan." You know, the word I had been seeing every couple of sentences for months at the point. I pointed out that I definitely spelled the word "Orphan" right (I was doing a book fair project on The Bad Beginning) and she was getting pissed I wouldn't change the spelling to "Orphant." Why did she think this? "It's Little Orphant Annie!" Newsflash, no it isn't! It's also "Orphan" there. I even showed her the book and typed it into a spellchecker to show her the "this is misspelled" line that came up underneath. SHE PHYSICALLY REFUSED TO LOOK! So yeah, I looked stupid and spelled a word wrong on my homework so my mother would quit having a tantrum.

Got it in her head that I wanted her and my father to die because I mentioned the description on Briny Beach did actually sound pleasant. (I was literally only saying that an overcast beach where there aren't a lot of people crowding around was nice. Made the mistake of admitting I got the description from ASOUE and she went off the fucking handle screaming about how I wished my parents were dead. I do now, Becky, but it has nothing to do with fictional orphans. In fact, I think the fictional orphans kept me sane.)

And here's the thing that solidified that my mother did not care about me. I got The Puzzling Puzzles. I was so excited to share it with my parents (because I didn't realize they were abusive yet and did that kid thing where I wanted my parents to love me and thought they did) and my mother straight up turned around and said "Nobody cares about that but you" because I was annoying her and my father.

And they wonder why I never shared anything I loved with them. Now, my father in an abusive pos too. If I had to actually call anyone my personal Count Olaf, it's him.

The difference is, I would rather be stuck in a room with Count Olaf than be anywhere in driving distance of my father. At least Count Olaf sort of has a motive for his cruelty. My father is just a monster.

But my mother, she's the one I realized first. And a weird amount of the inciting indicants were ASOUE related. (And it irritates the hell out of me that they tried to bond with me in my adulthood when the Netflix series came out because now they didn't have to pick up a book. 20 years too late. And my father laughed at Klaus getting smacked which was way too familiar for me...)

Sorry, Carmelita, but from experience you don't want to be raised by Olaf and Esme. It's not a pleasant experience.

#trauma vent #asoue #a series of unfortunate events

12 notes · View notes

noahschnappinfs · 4 months ago

Note

Today I opened tik tok and a video appeared with photos of Noah with the cast. I was very annoyed when I opened the comments and some said "help Finn"; "Finn blink twice if you need help"; "Natália blink twice if you need help". "Finn, Natália and Joe are more handsome than ever" or "Finn, Natália and Joe are so handsome". In X they were putting stickers on Noah's face and when they talked about him they censored his name as if he were Voldemort. It's such childish behavior. And the worst thing is that they talk as if he's killed someone. As if he's the reason Israel and Palestine are at war. They posted that photo of Noah with Finn and Joe at tennis and there was a comment saying that Finn was making that face because Noah smelled bad💀.

they create so many theories about Noah that I think they're more obsessed and more fans than we are. That's all the Byler shippers. They still keep saying that the cast hates Noah and that they're only hanging out with him because the Duffers threatened to cut their pay💀. It doesn't make any sense to hate Noah but love Finn and Millie. They have to accept that the cast loves Noah and that their favs are still friends and hang out with Noah and they have to stop with their ridiculous narration. They think they're superior to Noah because they're not evil Zionist. But in reality they are only as powerful as the narrative they create about Noah. Sorry if my English isn’t good it’s because it’s not my first language.

my response will sound kind of random but i was listening to “but daddy i love him” by taylor swift and it hit me how that song is a direct portrayal of the parasocial relationships that exist between celebs and their fans. i think we all saw the reaction online to her relationship and how her fans were trying to “protect” her from her new bf. it turns out that outrage only pissed her off and she literally calls them every name in the book in that song for their fake outrage. she calls them “vipers dressed in empath's clothing” and “judgemental creeps” which tbh are great lines that describe so well how fans are when they are babying their favs and i wonder how many other celebs feel that way about how their fans try to police their personal relationships. you might wonder why i’m mentioning all this but what i’m trying to say here is that the celebrities that we are fans of are mostly grown adults that make their own decisions about the people they hang out with. obviously you can dislike the people they surround themselves with but being childish about that by bullying their friends is ridiculous and won’t change anything. the cast have chosen to hang out with noah because they are friends and they would actually dislike most of the fandom if they saw how they treat a friend like noah who they’ve known since he was a child. how the fandom bully noah while trying to claim moral superiority is the definition of a viper in empath’s clothing.

it’s also hilarious how i’ve seen multiple people that now are going as far as being delusional by creating conspiracy theories about how netflix/the duffers/their PR team are forcing people to hang out with noah because they can’t accept that they are friends. they spent months patting themselves on the back because according to them their favs where so above noah that they were ignoring him and now that’s proven wrong, they try to invent another narrative to save face.

#answered #ns #btw never apologise for your english ♥️#english isn’t my first language either 😚

10 notes · View notes

lilysaus · 1 year ago

Text

okay. this fucking picture made me so mad i went on a 15 minute rant to my sister while she was trying to read her book.

so ive been looking at a lot of pictures of posts on pinterest because thats just where i spend most of my time. most of these posts are on the topic of adhd. ive never been properly diagnosed, but reading through these posts has made me feel so welcomed and understood (more than my parents have made me feel, pretending that this is "all just a phase that ill get over soon because pretending to have adhd is just the thing right now") that i realized ON MY OWN that "hey maybe i do have adhd." well.

i found this post while scrolling through pinterest, and it really sparked my anger.

i have a friend who was diagnosed with add before it was considered an "outdated" term and scrapped because apparently ALL FUCKING FORMS OF NEURODIVERGENCY THAT ARENT AUTISM ARE JUST "ADHD".

i read this post and it was what sparked my anger and my 15 minute rant to my sister. people who get degrees in this stuff, or counselors at schools, never really know what youre going through. all they know is that youre having some problems and they need to be solved.

which brings me back to this picture. if you look up "is add still a thing" on google, this is the first picture to pop up. and just seeing the visual aids they put with it makes me furious enough to throw something or someone out a fifth story window. the little girl is fucking SMILING while thinking about the most common shit people think us neurodivergent folks think when distracted. first off, no. false. we dont just think of video games and candy. we think of the randomest shit possible, like how long can i sit here without blinking or what kind of funny shit can i draw on this one sheet of paper.

and ALSO.

you cant just categorize adhd as TWO SEPARATE THINGS and call it good. we dont fit under two umbrellas. theres too many of us. we each have our own figurative umbrellas that only we ourselves can fit under, no one else. thats the problem with neurotypicals. they fit the typical stereotype for humans: we try to understand everything by putting it in a box. those lists of "symptoms"? i match every single one. on both sides. so ha. take that SCIENTISTS. what am i? some kind of freak of nature because i dont fit under just ONE of your precious categories?

i also looked up what "inattentive" means and it made me angrier. according to oxford languages, "inattentive" means "not paying attention to something", which doesnt seem too bad, right? it fits some people perfectly with their symptoms, right? but its not the definition that bugs me. its the example sentence thats used. "a particularly dull and inattentive student". basically saying that if you dont pay attention well to something, youre dull and boring.

im sorry, what? sometimes i have trouble paying attention, sure, but you ask any of my friends and they can agree i am NOT boring in any way, shape, or form. non of them would describe me as "dull". inattentive? sure, but not dull. so to call it "inattentive" adhd, instead of just add, is stupid! my friend with ADD (not fucking adhd, stupid scientists) is one of the funniest, most entertaining people ive ever met. shes an incredible artist, super smart, and knows how to make anyone laugh. does that sound dull to you? does she have problems focusing sometimes? yes. does she struggle with doing something sometimes? yes. but dont the rest of us?

my point is, when i see things like this, it pisses me off. like, unless all of the scientists who agreed "add" is an outdated term have it themselves, i refuse to believe its outdated and i will continue to say that my friend has it. she was literally diagnosed by the doctor telling her "you have attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder without the hyperactivity." THATS JUST FUCKING ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER YOU DUMBASS!!!

anyway, i hope im not the only one who feels this way. i just felt it necessary to get this out there. maybe someday, people wont be so dumb and single minded. in my opinion, neurodivergent people are superior in intellect and creativity, but i guess until someone like that takes over the world and dropkicks neurotypicals into the stratosphere, we'll never know.

#adhd stuff #undiagnosed adhd #living with adhd #neurodivergence #neurodivergent #add #its called add not adhd #you dumbasses #scientists are stupid sometimes #make that all the time

57 notes · View notes

marzipanandminutiae · 2 years ago

Note

Mind you I've never read LW but i kinda enjoyed the 2019 movie, why did you hate it? (Maybe i just wanna put Timothee Ch on a leash) feel free to go off 🌷

So, the costumes sucked from a historical perspective. Which would be less Objectively Bad and more Just Not My Thing...if the designers hadn't gone ON AND ON AT LENGTH about how ~Authentic~ they tried to make everything.

Didn't claim accuracy and didn't do accuracy: meh, whatever

DID claim accuracy and didn't do accuracy, AND won an Oscar for it: urge to kill rising

the hair design was particularly egregious, with the designer at one point saying they chose [checks notes] insane flyaways and half-up hair on adult women (who would have worn their hair entirely pinned up, for practical reasons and as a cultural marker of adulthood) because that seemed "more authentic than coiffures"

MORE AUTHENTIC

THAN THE WAY ACTUAL WOMEN BACK THEN

WORE THEIR ACTUAL HAIR

AS DEMONSTRATED IN PHOTOGRAPHS- EVEN CANDIDS -AND PORTRAITS

"blee bloo they didn't have hairspray!!!" THEY HAD POMADE. HAVING YOUR HAIR VERY SMOOTH WAS THE STYLE IN THE 1860S, EVEN FOR POOR WOMEN, AND MASSIVE FLYAWAYS ARE HUGELY IMPRACTICAL, AND NOT ALL FIXATIVES ARE HAIRSPRAY YOU ABSOLUTE-

[Marzi.exe has encountered a problem. please hold]

apart from the hair, there were fit issues and at least one case of Trying To Copy the 1994 Movie, But Worse (Amy's black and white dress in Paris).

1994. the pattern is soutache, a kind of applied trim done with flat cord that was very popular throughout the mid-late 19th century

2019. You cannot tell me the choice to have her in a white dress with black floral patterning, in effectively the exact same scene, was a coincidence.

also I'm pretty sure there was one shot with an actress visibly wearing Uggs. (EDIT- thankfully I am informed that this is a set photo and the Uggs were not visible in the finished film. i had forgotten this. good to know! leaving the pic there because STUPID HAIR and HATLESSNESS)

also the Pretty Pastel Princess Dresses (with overly fluffy attempts at bertha collars) and Matching Long Gloves (wrist gloves were popular for evening back then, and they were almost always white) in the Concord ball scene.

is it a Civil War-era ball, or is it a parade of "southern belles" at Cypress Gardens in 1995? leaning towards the latter.

once again, the choice to put Meg in pink for the ball instead of her book-described blue dress is something 1994 did first, and did better IMO

also Meg's 2015 Coachella wedding look, the fact that none of these girls from a poor family seemed to wear each other's old clothes ever, and the lazy choice to dress Jo in half-menswear instead of actually looking into menswear-inspired women's clothing in the era (which was a Thing!). but more than just the costumes pissed me off

they just...didn't seem to understand the era, or want to, or care? it was a bunch of little things that served to make it all more #relatable to modern audiences but ultimately undermined the setting:

Marmee telling a random young man she's never properly met to call her Marmee, because "everyone does." her DAUGHTERS call her that. her ACTUAL CHILDREN. who the hell else would? it's not a derivative of her name; it's a variant of Mama. Laurie can graduate to Marmee when he's an actual family friend

Jo wearing some of Laurie's clothing because "she stole it when they were hanging out in his room," according to an interview. um, NO NO AND NO, they are teenagers and that would distinctly not fly on several levels even in her progressive family. I might actually buy this if it were like "he gave them some clothes for an amateur theatrical and she kept them;" the actual Alcott sisters had a costume trunk for their plays, which is still on display at their house. but these writers clearly think a teenage boy and girl could be in his bedroom together unsupervised, for long periods of time, habitually, in 1860-whatever. which is absolutely incorrect

Jo saying "okay" in refusing Laurie's proposal. this is so tiny, I know, but while that term did already exist, it was a joke phrase only. this would be like saying "lol" while turning down your best friend's proposal today. once again, it's an example of Relatability mattering more than actually understanding the world these characters lived in

there are more, but I've blocked them out. I just really, really hated it on many levels

#ask #anon #lw19 #long post #rant

137 notes · View notes

msviperwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 2:

Part 1

Pairing: Kendall Roy X Reader (but kinda OFC?)

OKAY KENDALL GIRLIES 👀 I don’t think you’re ever going to view sushi the same again

───────────────────────── ♡⋆☆⋆♡ ──────────────────────────

Tense would be the easiest way to describe the atmosphere of Rava’s apartment at 8:30 am Monday. As Sonnie rode up the elevator, the doors opened to an angry Kendall holding a printed document in his hand. He was gesturing wildly and on the border of yelling.

“Not fucking good enough Jess, not good enough!” He stormed towards the opposing wall, placing his hands on his hips while still holding the papers.

“Kendall,”

“What did I say? I said I wanted to get on the disruption THIS week. I need to—“

“Kendall—“ Jess insisted.

He spun around,

Pissed. “What the f—“ his eyes caught Sonnie and she looked at him startled as she stepped into the apartment.

She wasn’t sure what else to do but smile.

“Morning,” Sonnie said. Jess turned to face her and smiled weakly. Kendall sighed with a scowl. The intern stepped forward again and found a seat in the living room.

“I was just telling Kendall that I wanted to have you—“

“Jess, you’re out on this. Sonnie, you need to contact Sofia from the Disruption's team and book me for this week. I want an appearance on Thursday. Understood?”

Sonnie swung her black backpack around to her front and rummaged through it while making her way to the white couch in the living room. She sat down, grabbed her planner, and began to write down information as Kendall paced furiously.

“I’ll give you the contact Info for them…” Jess half whispered as she got up and declared louder for Kendall to hear, “I’m grabbing water" before

scampering down the hall.

Sonnie glanced between where Jess had left and Kendall, who was still pacing.

“Everything alright?” Sonnie asked timidly. She twirled the pen in her hand while looking up at Kendall, who snapped in her direction. His eyes looked wild.

“Bad question."

"I'm sorry?" Sonnie was surprised by his tone.

Jess reappeared. “I have the next set of interviews to take care of now for the second intern… Sonnie I left you an on-boarding manual to look over in the kitchen as well as the contact information. I’ll loop back with you around lunch.” She checked her watch. “Alright, I have to run. Kendall, can I trust that I’m leaving Sonnie in good hands?” Jess half-joked.

Kendall was not amused. “Yep.”

She gave Sonnie a sympathetic look before she excused herself and left.

A silence fell before Kendall exhaled. “Sorry Sonnie…" He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair. "This internship’s gonna be a baptism by fire.”

“Honestly, As long as I’m getting paid I don’t care what fires need to be put out,” she stated. Kendall grinned for the first time this morning.

"Good answer." He warmed noticeably.

“Oh! uh...Speaking of which—“Kendall held up his hand, signaling to wait, and left the room. Sonnie tried her best to not gawk at the apartment, but her jaw became slack as she looked at the spiral staircase in the middle of the room, the wall of windows, the Steinway piano. The wealth some people had was astounding.

Severe imposter syndrome began to set in. Sonnie was working for arguably one of the most powerful men in the world, as a little intern. Her hands began to jitter as she twirled her hair nervously. Kendall re-entered the room with a white box. He was smiling ear to ear as Sonnie's face lit up in recognition.

“Can’t contact Sofia if you don’t have a good phone…” Kendall trailed off. The excitement in his voice was subtle but there. Sonnie stood and he placed himself directly in front of her, extending the boxed phone. “I got you the one terabyte model—“

Sonnie gasped audibly “That’s literally sixteen hundred dollars?! I-I don’t even know what to say… I could barely afford the 158 gigabyte one…”

Kendall continued to grin.“Yeah well, I figured you can use all the storage for work or whatever the fuck you want. So no worries. Consider it a sign-on bonus.”

Sonnie turned on her new phone and beamed. It was the same color as her original. He somehow remembered.

“Ah!” She threw her arms around Kendall’s neck enthusiastically. “Thank you!!!” She squealed. Kendall gently wrapped one arm around her waist

“You’re welcome.” he paused, taking in the lavender scent from her hair. he should have stepped away from the embrace, but the moment of kindness and genuine joy Sonnie experienced was contagious. His grip around her ribs tightened. Sonnie noticed, and stepped away just before Kendall added the next arm. She looked down at her feet feeling flush, not knowing Kendall was planning on really cementing her to him.

“I’ll let you get in contact with Sofia… I need to join a Zoom meeting.” He shuffled towards what Sonnie could make out to be the kitchen area and noticed a large patio that Kendall made his way to.

Sonnie saw a sticky note with The Disruptions number on the back of the phone box and a little p.s. from Jess who wrote it, telling Sonnie to meet her at Karma Sushi for lunch at 1 pm. Sonnie got to calling and scrambled to get a time slot for her new boss.

───────────────────────── ♡⋆☆⋆♡ ──────────────────────────

After two hours of phone tag and tracking down several assistants at the Disruption, Sonnie booked Kendall at prime time on Thursday. Glancing down the hall towards the patio, Sonnie could make out Kendall’s back, which looked tense. She was hesitant at first but made her way through the kitchen and out to her boss. In her grasp was the onboarding manual Jess left her.

“No…no Greg, I said no. You can’t borrow the limo to—“ Kendall heard the door open and close to the patio and looked to see Sonnie standing slightly knocked kneed.

“I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone that was on speaker and turned to Sonnie.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Guess who is booked for Thursday night prime time!” Sonnie’s nerves melted and were replaced with excitement from her achievement. Kendall really couldn’t help himself. When she got excited, he did too. It was like a viral infection. He smiled again, happy to see pure, innocent delight, without any ulterior motives. Something Kendall was not used to. Most people wanted something from him.

“I’ll take a stab in the dark and say, me?” He chuckled. She nodded her head, bobbing it up and down dramatically. “Excellent.” Kendall stood from the bistro-style table he was sitting at and closed his laptop. He eyed Sonnie cautiously. Noticing her white button-down blouse slightly pulled apart at her breasts, her black high-waisted slacks gave her a graceful, flattering appearance. her smile began to waver as she noticed Kendall looking a little too long, and she quickly looked down at the manual in her grasp, flushing.

Kendall cleared his throat and stood before saying “Excuse me—“ and shouldered passed her gently, placing his hand on her scapula as he made his way inside. Sonnie lingered on the patio, the sun was warm on her blushing cheeks, and her shoulder scorched where he touched her.

“Fuck.” Kendall mumbled under his breath as he sped his way into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, locking it. He felt a wave of nausea hit him, most likely from the pounding hangover that continued to flare up the longer the day progressed. Admittedly, he was still a touch drunk this morning from the charity dinner he went to last night. Sweat began to accumulate on his brow, as saliva coated his throat. He was going to—Puke. In the sink. The contents of his stomach swam around the white basin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched as his vomit drained. He took several deep breaths before washing his hands and splashing cold water on his face.

“Just need the hair of the dog…” he muttered half coherent. When the wave of nausea passed, he scrambled into the kitchen, looking for white wine. He saw Sonnie sitting down at the bistro table he was previously at, her back to him. To offer her some alcohol … or not… he paused for a moment, holding the handle to the refrigerator, and decided to grab champagne. If Sonnie thought they were drinking for celebratory reasons… he thought he could get away with drinking with her on the clock.

Kendall pulled a random bottle from a small wine fridge and popped the cork. Sonnie looked over her shoulder from the muffled sound, and saw Kendall standing in his kitchen pouring champagne into two glasses through the wall of windows. She smiled again, and Kendall thought his heart would peel out of his chest and plop on the floor with a dull thud.

“It’s the booze…” he said to himself. “You’re feeling this way cause of the booze… not because of her.” But what was the rattling in his ribs? He grabbed the two glasses and Sonnie crossed her legs and flipped a page of her manual as Kendall re-entered the patio.

“Oh wow!” She beamed. Kendall had to fight the urge to bite his lower lip. “Is that for me?!”

“Just wanted to congratulate you on the start of your career!” He sat at the chair across from her and slid a flute her way. She grasped the stem while Kendall held up his glass. “Cheers, to joining the Roy clan,” he smiled cheekily, one side of his mouth pulling more than the other. Sonnie clinked his glass and sipped. Kendall did the same, maintaining eye contact with her.

“Oh yeah, so quick question about this packet—“ Sonnie began to ask as she pulled the papers in front of Kendall.

“Sorry, don’t know what’s in that so I won’t be very helpful but you can talk to Jess about it at your lunch. I’m a big picture kind of guy.”

“Oh…” she paused for a moment and grabbed her champagne for another sip. Kendall did the same. The alcohol began to soothe his pounding head and churning stomach.

“So what do you really want, Sonnie?” Kendall asked, breaking the silence.

“Huh?”

“I’m talking about goals, ambitions, dreams. How can we make things happen for you while you’re here?” He was genuinely intrigued. He wanted to know exactly where her mind was at.

“Well, I’m twenty-five,”

“Really? You’re just a baby…”

Sonnie felt her stomach lurch. “Oh! Uh, I guess. But I don’t know… I had a dream since I was a kid that I would be a famous author someday. I don’t know why, but I just knew that writing was my calling from an early age.”

“Okay,” he smiled, waiting for her to continue.

“But realistically, I am a great writer and an even better people’s person, so I thought I could pave my way through PR, and write content for influential individuals,” She glanced down at her champagne flute and pressed the cold glass to her lips “such as yourself—“ and took a sip. Kendall liked this. He liked this, a lot.

“Yeah? Well, you couldn’t have picked a better place to start.” He sat back in his seat and gestured around them. “This place can be your fucking kingdom, Sonnie. You tell me what you want to get out of this job, I can make it happen. You want your dreams to come true?” He leaned in across the table, positioning his elbows close to hers. “I can fucking do that too.”

“What do you mean?” She cocked her head to the side.

Oh, Fuck... He licked his dry lips before saying. “Whatever you want, I can help. Because I’m the fucking man. You know what? Matter of fact—“ he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and placed his phone next to his ear.

“Hey, Jess— bad time? Yeah? Oh halfway through the 4th interview? Cancel it. Yep. Cancel all the interviews. I’m hiring Sonnie as a full-time, entry-level PR consultant.”

“What?!” She looked at him astounded. He smiled. Goddamn did he smile. And it felt good, to do something nice for someone. Someone who actually needed it.

“Cool. Start drawing up a contract for her. I was thinking $70,000 a year?” He read Sonnie's amazed expression and grinned. This was chump change to him, so why not pay out more? “Actually, 85 is good. Yeah. Okay. Great. See you at lunch.” He hung up the phone, and Sonnie looked at him with serendipity in her gaze. He downed the rest of his flute before saying “more champagne,” and sauntered inside.

Sonnie feverishly typed a message under the bistro table to Ivy.

“Can’t talk, but Kendall just hired me full-time!!!”

He returned with the bottle in a cold bucket and refilled their glasses.“Kendall— I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well you can thank me by doing a good job,” he sat back down and finsihed his flute quickly.

Sonnie followed suit. “Thank you… for giving me a chance I… I really just—“ her throat closed and she felt her eyes water. “—sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly as she dabbed the soft fleshy spot under her lashes, wiping away a straggling tear.

“Hey—“ Kendall’s expression softened. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. She went to flinch but was surprisingly comfortable with the gentle gesture. The sudden touch felt exhilarating to the two of them. “—You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. I get really mushy sometimes. Grad school was really tough and I was met with a lot of challenges and financial struggles and you just—“ another tear “Agh, I’m sorry, this is embarrassing.” Kendall’s thumb tenderly rubbed the back of her soft knuckles.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is a little. First day on the job and I’m crying,” she laughed at herself and glanced at the bottle of champagne. Kendall used his free hand to pour her another glass, still holding her hand with his other. She took a sip and laughed again.

“Just… thank you. I can’t tell you how much weight you just lifted off of my life with what you just did.”

“Happy to help,” Kendall said. And he meant it. Her gratitude for the smallest things brought him so much pleasure.

“I’m gonna go freshen up in the bathroom, where is it?”

“The one downstairs isn’t working—“ and smells like vomit… “but if you go up the spiral staircase, there’s a bathroom down the hall on the right.”

She squeezed his hand once, her little fingers felt bony in his large palm, and slipped her hand away before going inside.

Kendall stared down at his palm for a while, feeling her warmth still linger.

Now it was Sonnie’s turn to be in the bathroom. She cleaned up the small smudges of mascara that made tracts on her cheeks and marveled at the gorgeous tiling made with white Italian marble and gold flecks. As she was about to head back down to the patio, her phone began to buzz in her pocket. It was ivy.

“Hey!! Did you see my text?!” Sonnie asked in a hushed tone.

“I did! Listen, I’m so happy for you. I think it’s amazing Kendall wanted to hire you full time… but I just..” Sonnie could hear the concern in Ivy’s voice. “I’m worried about how quickly things are happening. I would be cautious…”

“Oh I am!!”

“Sonnie, I don’t think I need to remind you Kendall Roy’s entire family is literally worth 25 billion dollars. And that’s just networth… I worry what kind of power comes with that.”

Ivy paused before saying, “I love you and don’t want to rain on your parade. Just please be cautious with them. God forbid something happens—“

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… something… he has endless money and lawyers at his disposal.” Sonnie thought about this.

“You’re right.”

“I love You. I'm just looking out for you. But I think this will be a great opportunity for you if all goes well!!”

“Thanks, Ivy.. I always appreciate you. You’re right. I’ll keep alert!” For a moment, Sonnie thought she heard footsteps “I gotta go—“ and she quickly hung up the phone. She opened the bathroom door and saw Kendall standing there, ready to knock.

“Oh shit— sorry I was just going to check on you cause you were feeling a lot of feelings before.”

“I’m okay now, thank you.” She smiled.

“Well listen, I moved some things around and turns out I can make it to your lunch with Jess, so long as you don’t mind me crashing it.”

“Of course not!” She smiled.

“Great, can you call the car and tell him to be here ASAP? I’m just gonna change really fast. I’ll be down in 15,” he handed Sonnie a sticky note with a phone number on it before continuing down the hall to what she assumed was the bedroom.

She dialed the number, and told the car company Mr. Kendall Roy was requesting a pick up at his ex-wife’s apartment for lunch at Karma Sushi, and that he wanted the car to be here in 15 minutes. The polite man on the phone named Phil told her he would be there in 10 and she wandered over to the staircase, found herself on the chair downstairs, and waited.

After several minutes, Kendall reappeared wearing a salmon-colored linen shirt and cream-colored linen pants.

“Ready?” He asked from the top of the staircase. Sonnie’s big brown eyes looked up at Kendall as he descended from the second floor.

“Absolutely!” Sonnie practically leaped off of the chair and hurried to the elevator, Kendall trailing behind her with lust on his skin.

───────────────────────── ♡⋆☆⋆♡ ──────────────────────────

Karma was bougie as hell. Sonnie had heard about this sushi place as being one of the top omakese places in the U.S. and she couldn’t believe that they were waltzing in, no reservation.

As they made their way to the hostess stand, Sonnie approached first, smiling at the woman behind the podium. Kendall came up right behind Sonnie, his chest brushing her back every so slightly. “Table for 3?” He asked while placing a hand on Sonnie’s shoulder. She jolted subtly and then relaxed again.

“Of course,” the woman said as she gathered menus. “Right this way, Mr. Roy.” She began leading the two through a labyrinthine of tables, Kendall’s hand still on Sonnie’s shoulder as he guided her from behind.

The hostess picked a gorgeous table that overlooked the restaurant’s Japanese tea garden. Kendall took the cowboy seat while asking the hostess to bring over a scorpion bowl. Sonnie sat on his left while they waited for Jess and the drink.

“Have you been here before?” Kendall asked as he watched Sonnie’s eyes dance with delight at the beautiful interior of Karma. He knew she never had been to a place like this but was addicted to seeing the gratitude she bore in her eyes. It was a new drug.

“No!! This is so cool!” She was ecstatic. It didn’t take much to impress her, which was a welcome and nice change of pace for Kendall. The two heard a dull crackling and looked over to see a giant scorpion bowl coming their way. Sonnie looked at Kendall surprised. “Did I not notice when you ordered this?” She laughed.

He nodded. “No, you were taking it all in.” The wait staff placed the massive cocktail between the two and asked if they were ready to order. Kendall declined and said they were still deciding.

When the waiter left, Kendall smiled at the silly straws that came with the bowl and slid one towards Sonnie as she eyeballed the flaming white rum shot in the center.

“Drink up!”

She giggled, “Why do I feel like I’m partying more than working?”

“You stick with me, and life will always be a party.” The two laughed, but Sonnie could tell Kendall was not joking. Far from it. “You better drink that shot.” Kendall’s eyes darkened.

“Which one?” Sonnie asked, playing dumb.

“The one on fire?” He stated plainly.

“Kendall I’m gonna be so tipsy if we keep this up!” She said with a grin, but sonnie’s eyes look at Kendall timidly.

“Loosen up, and just enjoy the ride.” He put a straw in his mouth and took a long sip.

“Sorry I’m late—“ Jess breathed as she appeared through the crowded restaurant. She sat herself on the right side of Kendall, holding a big Manila folder. She looked at the scorpion bowl and gave Kendall a nervous look.

“What’s with the stank face?” He asked. The fire in the center of the scorpion bowl fizzled out.

“Nothing,” She looked at Sonnie and smiled. “I have your contract ready for you Miss Gold, congrats on the full-time offer!”

Sonnie slurped dark rum through a comedically long, swirly straw, and extended her hand across the table.

“Thank you for believing me!” She said with the straw in her teeth. Jess shook her hand, and again glanced at Kendall. He was staring at Sonnie, who had stopped drinking from the scorpion bowl and had a drop of rum on her lip. Her small tongue peaked through her mouth and licked the alcohol droplet away.

“Miss Gold?” He asked while holding his hand out to Jess. He maintained eye contact with Sonnie, not breaking her gaze as Jess handed him a contract with a pen clipped to the top. “I believe you need to sign this puppy and take that shot.” He pointed to the center of the scorpion bowl. Sonnie was feeling borderline drunk at this point. She has a small breakfast, three glasses of champagne, and now some scorpion bowl.

“If-if you need me to do work for the rest of the day I better stop drinking now,” she tittered. He smirked at her.

“Well, what if I wanted to pay you to party today instead? Huh?”

“Kendall—“ Jess cautioned. He ignored Jess and held up his hand to silence her. She looked down at her lap. Sonnie glanced between the two of them.

“Look at me,” he said. Sonnie immediately snapped her attention to him. He liked that she listened to him.

“Sign this.” He said while sliding the contract to her. His rounded eyes were feral, excited.

Maybe it was the alcohol dictating her actions, but Sonnie didn’t bother reading the fine print. She signed, like a good girl.

“Great. Now, since you’re an official full-time employee, it’s party time!” He nudged the scorpion bowl closer to Sonnie. “Drink,” he commanded. Sonnie stuck the end of her straw into the center shot, and drank. Kendall smiled. “Good,” And began slurping out of his straw. “Want some Jess?” He asked. She shook her head. “No, thanks. I was going to go through your packet Sonnie but—“

“No! Please do! I have so many questions.”

Jess was surprised by this. Despite the slight slur in Sonnie’s words, she was eager to learn, drunk or not.

“Okay… well— first let’s get you some water. And food…” Jess flagged down the waiter and asked for water for the table. Kendall chimed in, ordering a specific tasting menu for the three of them, costing $800.00 a pop. Sonnie attempted to protest but Kendall wouldn’t allow it. After all, it was business lunch they were going to expense. Sonnie was not used to this lifestyle; and felt an intense feeling of guilt swirl with the alcohol in her stomach.

Kendall continued to suck down the scorpion, passing it to Sonnie after each long sip, wanting her to be tit-for-tat with him. By the time they finished the first bowl, Kendall was on to the next.

“Seriously Kendall, cool it,” Jess warned. “Ohhhhh we have a party pooper over here!” Kendall chucked.

Sonnie was giggling wildly, it sounded like flicking an empty wine glass. Kendall loved it. It rang in his ears at an intoxicating volume.

The second scorpion bowl came over ready to sting, as well as the first course of the omakase. Sonnie reached across the table to grab the funky straw and started drinking the next bowl. Kendall was incredibly amused.

“Maybe eat something first,” Jess warned as she tried to pull the bowl away from Sonnie, the now drunk intern— er… PR consultant. Kendall grabbed the bowl and glared at Jess, pushing it back to Sonnie.

“I’ll eat something if Kendall does the middle shot,” Sonnie smirked.

Kendall turned to look at her, raising a brow.“Are you challenging me?” He questioned with humor. “Me? I’ve been drinking since you were in diapers, honey.” He grabbed Sonnie’s straw, the one she had been drinking out of despite there being two other unused straws, and stuck the end of it into the middle shot. He drank the flaming liquor, watching Sonnie the entire time. Blush began to rise to her cheeks and Kendall’s gaze began heating up.

“Okay, I see that this isn’t going to be productive…” Jess sighed, her brows meshed together angrily. She began eating the nigiri, deciding to let the other two dictate the lunch as they saw fit.

Kendall finished the shot and pushed a plate of nigiri to Sonnie.

“Eat,” he commanded. She obliged. And god, did he love when she obliged. She ate the nigiri as instructed, and Kendall did the same.

Jess started feeling uncomfortable. She could sense the tension between the two and decided she was happy to be quitting soon. All of this would no longer be her problem if she played her cards right and left at the right time.

The second course came, some salmon sashimi, and Kendall grabbed Sonnie's plate, looking at her hungrily. She squinted her eyes at him, confused by the gesture.

“Eat.” He commanded again, sliding the plate to her. She looked at Kendall, her face flushing. Her gaze darted back and forth, looking at Kendall’s left and right eye. She grabbed her chopsticks and ate the piece of meat. He chewed on the inside of his cheek out of want. He fucking loved that she listened to him. Ate when he asked, drank when he asked. It was numbing, intoxicating, a huge rush.

“Okay… Sonnie?” Jess began standing up and grabbing her stuff. “Why don’t we meet up later to discuss the contents of the packet.” Kendall didn’t stop her, he waved her off, hoping she would leave.

“Oh, Jess! I’m sorry I-“

“Don’t apologize to her Sonnie, you’re having fun with me,” He boasted. He looked at Jess and narrowed his eyes while maintaining a smile. “Sonnie’ll see you tomorrow in regards to onboarding.” He waved her off, meshed his fingers together, and rested his chin on the cradle he created from his digits. He looked at Sonnie intently.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom really fast,” Sonnie blurted before making her way to the restroom.

Jess and Kendall glared at each other.

“What the fuck, Kendall?” She asked in a hushed tone, sitting back down. “Sonnie is like, 3 sheets to the wind right now. And you’re practically eye-fucking her.”

Kendall’s face twisted into a sick grin. “Mind your business.”

“You hired ME to mind your business. This is a fucking lawsuit waiting to happen!”

“Will you relax? Nothing is happening. It’s just two coworkers getting a drink and talking shop.”

“But it’s NOT two coworkers. It’s an almost 40-year-old man flirting with his fucking 23-year-old intern—“

“She’s 25 and not an intern.”

“Whatever Kendall. Do what you want. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“ I ‘preciate it, but it’s not necessary. Sonnie and I are just fine.”

“Perfect.” Jess blew air out of her mouth, pissed.

“She’s probably throwing up in the bathroom as we speak.”

Sonnie was not throwing up in the bathroom. She was calling her friend Ivy.

“Ivy, is now a bad time?”

“For you Sonnie, NEVER. Let me just tell my shift supervisor I’m stepping out really quick….” Sonnie swallowed the rising alcohol in her throat and cupped her hand under the water faucet to lap up some water. “What’s up?”

“I… need advice about this…situation.”

“What's going on, Sonnie?” Ivy askeddeeply concerned.

“Now… I want to reiterate I love Alec. Well, I think I do. I mean… we’ve been together for three months now and he’s really sweet but… I think my boss wants to fuck me-“

“What?!”

“And I kind of want to…fuck Kendall.”

“Sonnie… are you drunk? You sound drunk”

“Yeah…”

“Kendall got you drunk on your first day?”

“…yeah”

“Sonnie… are you safe? Do you need me to come get you?”

“I’m fine! I just—“

“Do NOT fuck him. Do not Sonnie. I know you want to but it’s the booze and the power he has. Don’t do it. Plus think of Alec! You can’t do that to him…I’m checking your location and I’m coming now…”

“No Ivy—“

“Sonnie, you’re at Karma Sushi? Holy shit. How much does that cost?!”

“…800$ per person.”

“PER PERSON?!”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus… okay. Well, I’m coming. And I may have some choice words for Kendall.”

“Ivy… don’t. I’m okay. But wow...I like Alec a lot, and I will of course be faithful to him…but Kendall though is very, very hot.”

“He’s dangerous too Sonnie. I mean… fuck did he really drop 800$ on you?”

“And bought me a 1,600$ phone.”

“WHAT?!”

“And is going to pay me $85,000 a year. So I can afford my student loan payments—“ she paused, her throat closed. “Fuck,” she started to cry.

“Sonnie…”

“I’m really drunk and so many good things are happening but I’m wo-worried.” She hiccuped.

“About what?”

“I don’t know… it’s scary he’s in a huge position of power, like you said. And I know that. I know he is… and I just started dating Alec and I really see a lot of potential for us… I dont’ want to screw that up. But…”

“But?!” Ivy asked.

Jess came into the bathroom and Sonnie hung up the phone immediately.

“Hey, you alright? You’ve been in here awhile.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry just got a call from my friend.” Sonnie sniffled. Jess looked at her skeptically.

“Fun first day, huh?”

“Yeah, Kendall is a very cool boss.” Sonnie avoided eye contact and scrambled for her purse.

Jess gently grabbed Sonnie's elbow. She glanced down at Jess’s hand and back into her dark eyes. “If you need anything, at all, ever, you can call me.” Jess reached into her pocket and pressed a business card into Sonnie’s palm. “Anything.”

“Thank you,” Sonnie smiled weakly. Considering this was the second person to not so subtly warn her about Kendall, Sonnie began to wonder if it was a good idea to work for him.

“Let’s get you some more food, yeah?” Jess linked arms with Sonnie and the pair headed back to the table.

Kendall looked impatient and was already nursing a third scorpion bowl with a scowl before Sonnie and Jess came into view. He beamed, a smile spreading wide on his face as the pair found themselves back at the table. Sonnie sat back down, eyeballing the 4 additional plates at her table setting. Jess remained standing.

“Well Ken, I'm heading out so I’ll see you tomorrow. Yeah?” Jess asked. She turned and left before he could respond.

Kendall kept his gaze fixated on Sonnie.“You alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Everything’s good!”

“Good,” Kendall pushed the four plates of nigiri and sashimi to her. He grinned. “Eat.” She smiled, feeling warmth radiating between her legs. She grabbed her chopsticks and Kendall held up his hand.

“No,” he grabbed his chopsticks and picked up a piece of fish. He held it out to her. “Eat.” He insisted. She looked between him and the sushi. The alcohol and desire began to take the wheel. It was shocking and invigorating for him to want her to wrap her lips around the fish. She knew this was crossing a line, and that if Alec had done something like this, she would feel insecure. But this was Kendall Roy…and Sonnie did not want to disappoint such a sexy and generous man. She slowly, delicately, opened her mouth and received the plump piece of pink tuna. Her thighs began to burn under the table. She chewed and Kendall took a sip from bowl #3. He picked up the next fish and held it out to her. She ate it willingly. Then the third, then the fourth.“I like this game,” he said once she was done eating. Sonnie blushed madly. “So, what do you say we finish up here and we go run an errand?”

Sonnie’s phone was violently vibrating in her pocket.

“I-I’m— what sort of errand?” Kendall pushed bowl #3 to Sonnie. “Drink,”And she did, and of course, Kendall fucking loved it. He felt a tightness in his boxer briefs and pulled at the legs of his pants. Sonnie kept slurping until her vision began to double slightly.

“Ke-Ken I don’t know if I can do any crazy errands.” He snickered. “Relax, it’s not actually an errand.” He waved down the busboy and told him to grab the check and clear the table. Kendall eyeballed the last of the scorpion bowl and polished it off before the busboy grabbed it and disappeared.

Sonnie snatched her water cup and began drinking big gulps before Kendall laughed. She put the cup down and looked at him confused before he reached across the table and placed his pointer finger under Sonnie's chin. Her face was boiling. She held her breath, eyes darting between his. He could not stop smiling.

“W-what—“ his thumb brushed a piece of rice off of the top of her lip, and he chuckled, “Cute.”

As the bill was being paid, Sonnie felt a pang of guilt in her stomach and texted Alec under the table.

“First day with Kendall--” sonnie backspaced the name and changed it to “Mr. Roy. He is very cool! I am going to see if he can get Con’s autograph for your parents.”

Kendall signed the bill and ushered for Sonnie to stand with him. The pair, drunk as a skunk, began to make their way to the car. Kendall draped his arm around Sonnie’s shoulders as they exited the restaurant. She shuttered into his warm touch.

Fuck... she thought to herself. I shouldn’t like this! She imagined Alec working so hard at the hospital and her stomach dropped.

Kendall squeezed her shoulder and she yelped.

“So what are we doing?” Sonnie asked, changing the subject as Phil opened the door to the black sedan for her. She slid into the right side of the car and Kendall came in afterward.

“Phil, Houseplant.”

“Yessir.”

“House plant?” Sonnie asked. Kendall grinned. “You’ll see.” Phil drove just a few blocks before pulling into a spot on the curb. He exited the car without a word and entered an unmarked building.

“Is this the errand?” Sonnie asked while digging into her pocket for her phone which had not stopped vibrating since she left the bathroom.

“Sure is!” Kendall watched as Sonnie typed a text out, quickly. “Who’s that?”

“My roommate just wanted to know how my first day was going!” She lied.

“You’re not gay, are you?” He asked without discretion.

“What? No! This is legit just my roommate.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with being gay, was just wondering since you mentioned not having a boyfriend.”

She laughed nervously “I already said she was my roommate. We are best friends” Sonnie said. “But I do have a boyfriend…”

Kendall snapped his head in her direction. “oh...uh, what?”

“Yeah, His name is Alec. We met a few months ago through a friend in my grad program!”

Moments later, Phil came out of the building holding a brown bag. He re-entered the vehicle and passed the bag to Kendall. Sonnie’s phone buzzed with a response.

“You’re the best, babe!” Alec typed. Kendall’s eyes watched her phone, his face was calm but his eyes were hot with anger.

#ao3 writer #dark romance #kendall roy x original female character #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy fanfic #succession fanfic #succession smut #smut #lemon #kendall girlies #yes Kendall thank you Kendall #d4ddy dom #jeremy strong

7 notes · View notes