#undercover as a kindergarten teacher | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foolsdiamond · 26 days ago

Text

Stealing Isn't Wrong If It's From Walmart

A Vriska / Terezi AU fanfiction

A blind stranger saves Vriska's life on a snowy winter night, then won't leave her alone. She claims to be her guardian angel; whether she's lying or not, her dedication to the bit has Vriska strangely convinced.

Ka-ching!

Vriska finds that her debit swipes into the self checkout reader just as easily without money as it does with. Her phone vibrates immediately with a notification from her bank, but she does not wait for a receipt to print. She grabs her bag and begins to powerwalk to the front door, past the greeter, and into the frosty winter air outside. She hears a voice shout behind her, and is tackled hard onto the ground.

Vriska’s glasses bounce onto the pavement and crack. A car rushing by throws up black slush over her face and hair, and the melt seeps into her clothes. Fallen snowflakes, heavy and wet, immediately begin piling on top of her body. The stench of car exhaust is overpowered by the aroma of blood as it begins to well in her mouth from somewhere; she's both too sore and too disoriented to identify where.

Seconds, maybe even minutes pass by, before Vriska has wrapped her hand back around the handle of her bag, dragged her glasses closer, and rotated to sit up. She looks at the fallen body of the person who tackled her–not an employee, or at least, not in uniform. Perhaps she's one of their undercover theft prevention crew. Her black hair is cut short, the ends curly and frayed. The falling snowflakes are caught up in it like a nest. She starts pushing herself up, and her blank eyes sear into Vriska in a way that makes her incredibly uncomfortable.

“What the fuck is your problem!" Vriska shrieks when she finally finds her voice. She drags herself to her feet, and starts trying to wipe dirty snow off of her clothes.

"Watch where you're going next time you ignoramus. That car would have hit you,” the blind girl replies.

"As if you could tell,” Vrisks retorts, waving her hand angrily and excessively in front of the girl’s eyes.

"You'd be surprised to know what I can see, actually.” She pauses, then adds on a "jackass” before collecting her cane and rising to her feet.

Vriska catches a glimpse of one of the store employees through the glass door with a phone to their ear, and decides to bite back her next retort. She spits the blood in her mouth out onto the ground, turns around, and begins fleeing the scene once again.

She makes it a good couple blocks down to the bus stop before she finally stops. Beneath the snow-covered awning, Vriska takes a minute to sit down on the dry bench and give herself a once over. She bit the shit out of her tongue, scraped her knees, ripped her pants, but in all was mostly unharmed. Of course, anything is going to make her sour mood worse.

The girl from earlier sits down beside her, staring silently at the road. Vriska leans back and stares forward too, wearing a scowl.

“Assault and stalking?” Vriska says.

"Yeah, I'm considering rounding it out with homicide,” she grins in response.

"Couldn't let the car kill me? You gotta do it yourself?”

"Maybe you wouldn't have died, and instead been maimed so badly I'd feel guilty for killing you.”

"Damn, you should have let that happen. Someone's gotta pay my bills,” Vriska chuckles, and folds her hands on her lap.

"That's why I'm not interested in your death,” the blind girl starts. "You are so pathetic, you're worthless.”

"Who the fuck are you to judge me, anyway?”

"Terezi Pyrope. Judger of souls, weigher of sins, the scales of justice.” Terezi tilts her gaze up to the spider webs in the rafters of the bus stop roof.

"Yeah, me too. I do all of that, too; why are you so special?”

Terezi slides a small business card out of her pocket and into Vriska’s hand. It's pearly white and slightly iridescent, with teal gel pen handwriting that is absolutely illegible.

"So you're a kindergarten teacher, and this is your worst student’s work.”

"No, that's my fucking business card you insolent cunt. Must every sentence out of your mouth be an insult? Because you are not making a strong case for yourself!” Terezi replies.

"We're not in court. We're sitting at a bus stop,” Vriska starts. She turns to look directly at Terezi’s face; her features are soft and round, plump even. A few stray hairs are scattered around her jawline and upper lip, thick and curled. "There's a small wooden roof above us with slate tiles coated in piling snow. There's a decade’s worth of spiderwebs strung along the rafters, black with dust. In front of us the sidewalk is crumbling from overuse without maintenance, and the road is white from an undisturbed layer of snow. We're sitting on an iron bench, a dark rusty gray, with the stop number engraved on the back.”

Terezi sits in the silence of it all, even as Vriska stops speaking. They hear cars driving on the main road in the distance, and the tiny crunch of a squirrel digging under the snow for nuts. Vriska drops her gaze down to her hands, where she can see her skin through the threads of the fingertips.

"So that car killed me, huh,” Vriska says. "And you're St. Peter judging whether I get into heaven.”

"One of those statements is false,” Terezi responds.

"God I hope it's the first one, then,” Vrisks says without missing a beat. She straightens her posture a bit. "But I have no fucking clue why you'd be judging me now if that were the case. So I'm dead, and what are you, my personalized devil?”

“No, you had it. I actually did save your life, you're fucking welcome," Terezi says.

“Then what are you doing here? This seems a little more guardian angely and a little less judged by gody."

“Eh, that's as much information as I'm going to divulge,” Terezi says with a smug grin, folds her hands behind her head, and leans back. "Wanna explain to me why you were shoplifting?”

"I owe you as much explanation as I owe that greedy corporate shitbag money. Which is to say, none!”

"Which is to say, like, 42 dollars worth. What did you even take?” Terezi asks.

"Come on, angel. Divine it. You could see a car coming but not what's inside my bag?” Vriska retorts.

“I could sense that your life was in imminent danger. I cannot sense your purchasing habits," she responds.

“It's just, some stuff. Y'know, essentials. Shit you can't live without, like food and toilet paper," Vriska mutters.

“I can live without food and toilet paper," Terezi points out smugly.

“Jackass, a normal person couldn't live without."

“And the only thing inside your bag is $42 worth of ramen noodles and toilet paper?"

Vriska frowns, but her silence is all too telling. Terezi reaches over without warning, shoves her hand into the shopping bag, and starts to rummage around. Vriska immediately wrenches it away and grabs her wrist, but the expression on her face is unchanged.

"It's a cute dress, and it doesn't count toward our discussion if I didn't even scan it to begin with,” Vriska finally relents.

"No no, it counts. It is definitely still stealing.”

"Whatever. I don't give a shit about God’s judgement of my mistreatment of the corporate whatever I don't even know why I'm humoring all of this bullshit it's obviously bullshit.” Vriska’s rambling quiets down to a disconcerted mumbling. She stands up, bag looped around her arm, and leans on the far wall of the bus stop enclosure. Her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, she looks down at her phone to check the time.

"Where is this fucking bus?” Vriska curses.

"Does this bus stop even get used during weather? If the roads are covered in snow like you said… What time even is it?"

“8:42," Vriska responds. She immediately catches herself and frowns harder.

“And when does the route schedule say the next pickup for this stop is?" Terezi prompts.

Vriska glances at the back wall. She was late for the 8:30 pickup because someone threw her on the wet ground, so the next one isn't until 9.

“Assuming it's not delayed by the snowfall," Terezi adds after Vriska’s silence. “Definitely not healthy for you to be out in the cold for that long."

“Oh yeah? Did God give you money for a taxi, blind girl?" Vriska snaps.

“How far away do you live? You're probably faster on foot," Terezi says. Her expression does not hold any warmth, and her tone is transactional.

"Hm, I actually think I broke my ankle being nearly hit by a car earlier,” Vriska replies sarcastically. "I am not spending the next hour walking in a foot of snow, especially not in wet jeans and a flannel,” she adds much more seriously.

"Then maybe consider walking to an open business with a bus stop outside,” Terezi offers.

“Can't, stole from ‘em," Vriska states. She sits back down on the bench and crosses her arms. “Just gotta wait."

Without permission, Terezi puts her arm around Vriska’s shoulders, coat unzipped so it wraps around her too. She drapes her legs over Vriska’s lap and leans in close, until the soft hair pushed up from her forehead tickles Vriska’s jaw. Serket opens her mouth to argue, tenses her muscles to fight, but finds herself melting into the embrace involuntarily and decides to shut her yap.

She leans in, snaking her arms around Terezi’s waist and letting her frosty cheek press into her hair. Vriska sits like this in silence for several minutes, until the quivering in her body finally calms down and she can feel the tip of her nose tickled by Pyrope’s hair.

“What are you?" she asks.

"A lesbian,” Terezi responds.

"Not what I meant,” Vriska growls.

“I failed at my job. I've been cast out and given a significantly shitter, more difficult job to redeem myself. I am supposed to be the scales of justice; I slipped up and let an single emotion affect one decision, and I've been banished. To return to my proper place, I must act as guardian angel to a selected person who is shitty, rude, and bad. Someone who is on course to go straight to hell with no chance at redemption… and I am supposed to silently guide them to the path of light, so that they may pass their trial when it is their turn on the stand."

“You better have proof you're a fucking angel, or you just called me the shittiest bitch alive for no fucking reason," Vrisks says firmly.

“What could I do to prove it to you?" Terezi asks calmly.

“I dunno, show me your wings or your halo? Use an angel beam? Fly? Give me a direct line to speak with God?"

“I can't do any of that right now,” Terezi responds.

"What can you do?” Vriska demands.

"I can smell the color of the blood beneath your skin,” she offers. "I can hear the exact moment that you will die,” she adds.

"When do I die?”

"At 3:03AM, you fall asleep on this bench and freeze to death before the sun rises.”

Vriska shivers, and Terezi squeezes tighter.

"Do you see how to avoid this from happening?”

"No,” Terezi states. "I don't see anything. But it stands to reason, you need to get inside.”

"And you think I'll live through an hour hike in the piling snow?” Vriska asks incredulously.

"You're going to call a taxi,” Terezi responds. "You stole from the store, I know you can just not pay for the ride.”

"I thought you were supposed to be my moral compass now to make me a good person,” Vriska teases, pulling out her phone. At least with the fingertips of her knit gloves being threadbare, she doesn't need to remove them to utilize her touch screen.

"There is no moral high ground to dying cold and alone on a public bench,” Terezi says.

"I agree. My life is more valuable than money,” Vriska nods.

The pair fall into an awkward silence after Vriska gets off the phone with the local taxi service. Terezi peels herself away eventually, and the two sit side by side in silence while they await their ride. Vriska contemplates whether she believes this lunatic story this lesbian is throwing at her; she doesn't, but she sure was quick to believe Terezi at the mental image of herself curled up and lifeless. She certainly doesn't look angelic; she looks like a mess. For all Vriska knows, Terezi could literally be someone having some crazy delusion right now, and she's just feeding into it.

Yet, Vriska doesn't stop her from getting into the taxi cab. She lets her knee lean onto hers as they sit side by side in the back seat. And when the driver drops them off down the street from Vriska’s apartment, she gently tugs Terezi’s arm to lead her in the right direction.

Vriska looks down to see a single set of tracks left in the snow, and the grip on Terezi’s arm tightens. She drags her up the flight of salted steps to her door and unlocks it, letting this stranger into her home.

Vriska’s one bedroom apartment is clutter. She's the kind of person who has stuff and likes stuff, and is not living in a space that has room for stuff. Her dining room table is covered in a mishmash of DIY projects and unfolded laundry and dirty dishes. Her couch has one cleared seat. Her computer desk looks surprisingly tidy, until one glances at the shelves beneath and around it. Vriska immediately steps into her bedroom to crank up her space heater and to fish out a set of dry clothes to change into.

Terezi seats herself on the couch, waiting patiently until Vriska finally steps out wearing a set of flannel pajamas.

“Um, you eat?" she asks awkwardly.

“I can eat your food for pleasure, but not for sustenance."

Vriska stares back at Terezi, and then decides to prepare her ramen for herself and not to share, since the option presented itself. She rests two mugs on the coffee table and sits down on a pile of t-shirts. Vriska holds her ramen cup close to her face and piles noodles into her mouth ravenously with a fork.

“Mug of hot chocolate for you," she says between bites.

Terezi leans forward and reaches out, feeling around the coffee table until she locates a mug. She inhales deeply before taking a sip, then sets it back down. She clicks her tongue, then reaches for it again–this time taking the other mug–and proceeds to chug it. Vriska rolls her eyes, unsure of what she expected putting her own drink in front a blind woman.

Vriska sets down her empty noodle container and uses her clean sleeve to wipe her face off. She debates drinking after Terezi, before deciding it's not weird or even remotely intimate to put her mouth over a non-person’s lipstick stains. She proceeds to leave the dishes on the table and leans back, scooting them to the side with her feet as she props them up.

"You would benefit from using some of that bitching energy towards cleaning your apartment," Terezi says, breaking the silence.

“I'll clean it whenever I have a hot date," Vriska shrugs. “A hot date who doesn't have a bigger or cleaner apartment already, that is."

“Oh, am I not hot enough for you?" Terezi teases. She rotates, leaning most of her weight into one hip so she can be facing Vriska more directly.

“This definitely isn't a date," Vriska says firmly.

“But you do find me hot!"

“Have you seen the men I've let touch me?" Vriska retorts. She bites her lip the instant she realizes she's only owning herself.

“Thankfully I've never seen a man, and I never will."

“God I wish that were me. I wish I could be a carefree lesbian like you," Vriska sighs.

“I would not describe myself as carefree. In fact, given my current predicament, I am experiencing a constant general anxiety, intensified every second I spend not coaching you into a saint," Terezi says. “Wait, why can't you be a lesbian?"

“It's…not allowed?" A weak argument. “Because I have to be attracted to men?" A little better.

“ Are you attracted to men?" Terezi asks plainly.

“Sure. I've dated and slept with, like, several."

“What do you like about boys, Vriska?"

“They're men. They always want to have sex, except for the sometimes when I want to have sex. They have hair in places, that's hot. Uhhhhhhhh…"

“What do you like about women, Vriska?"

“They’re so pretty, and have much more interesting hobbies. I dated a guy who studied military history, but I knew a girl who went into abandoned buildings and old temples for fun. Also, girls are so much more relatable like, emotionally and stuff."

“So why can't you be a lesbian?" Terezi asks.

“I can't. Like I said, not allowed," Vriska says as the joy seeps from her face.

“Why aren't you allowed?" Terezi asks again.

“Well, cuz… I'm not… Do you know what transgender is?” Vriska mumbles.

"Yes, I know what transgender is. So you're a man?” Terezi asks. Her expression doesn't denote any malice, else Vriska would have ended the conversation right there.

"No. I'm a girl, I'm a trans girl. I can't be a lesbian because I'm trans, I have to like men to… be a girl.” The growing quiet in Vriska’s voice is evidence that she too realizes how stupid she sounds.

"So you're a trans girl lesbian,” Terezi states plainly. "You're welcome.”

Vriska doesn't offer a thanks, or even a response. She stands up slowly and begins collecting the dishes around her living room, mulling over the realization in silence. Fighting between keeping her emotions in check and letting a little joy seep through to her core. When she dumps everything into the sink, she's decided she deserves a little joy after all.

"I'm going to bed," Vriska says in passing as she goes to her bedroom. Terezi turns her head to follow Vriska’s footsteps, but doesn't rise from the couch immediately.

Vriska slides into bed in the dark, curling up with her privacy and folding her hands beneath her head. Her thoughts chain, one after the other, until they're racing through her head. She's a lesbian. She's a girl. Her past, and her journey. The growing noise in her mind suddenly stills into silence, and she looks at Terezi standing at the foot of her bed.

“Excuse me," Vriska says, yawning.

“An eternal being does not waste time on sleep," Terezi states knowingly.

“But you can't creep at the foot of my bed and stare at me," Vriska says.

“It is in my–and by extension, YOUR–best interest that I keep a watchful eye over you at all times."

“So lay down in bed with me," Vriska offers. "Freak.”

"Look at your filthy apartment and call me the freak,” Terezi chuckles. She does ultimately decide to lay down in bed, tucking herself underneath the same blanket Vriska is using.

"Sorry, what happened to blind justice? You can't see shit!”

"Well I'm blindly judging you. This place reeks. Don't you know you're supposed to tidy up before bringing cute girls over?” Terezi says.

"And I will tidy up before I invite over a cute girl,” Vriska retorts.

"So what am I? Think hard before calling me ugly.”

"You're an angel,” Vriska states. She rolls over, now facing Terezi; her knees touch her thighs, and her hand rests onto her shoulder. "Not the same category.”

"Angel is not it's own gender,” Terezi starts, but seemingly changes her mind. "You're sleeping with me.”

“Sure, I'll sleep with an angel. I didn't invite you over, though. It doesn't count if you're literally haunting me."

“I wouldn't call it haunting! I'm protecting you from all that would wish you harm, including yourself," Terezi says.

“Oh, so you're mommying me," Vriska teases.

"Don't,” Terezi starts. "Don't you fucking dare. I do NOT trust you to call me Mommy in a way that God would appreciate.”

"Awwwwwwww, mommy! Does it bother you when I say that?” Vriska giggles. She leans her lips against Terezi’s ear and whispers. "Do you like being called mommy?”

"Nope, definitely not,” Terezi shivers. She doesn't move away.

“What if I called you daddy?" Vriska whispers, but this time Terezi resorts to violence and brings her hand down across Serket’s cheek. Vriska flinches, but breaks out into laughter immediately after.

“That's the end of this little game. Go to sleep. You have work in the morning." Terezi’s statements are brisk and stiff.

“Aw, how do you know that? Smelling my death, am I martyred by a customer or something?"

“No, that one was logic; you have to get money from somewhere,” Terezi responds.

"Whatever. Yeah, I'm going to sleep. Night, or whatever,” Vriska mumbles awkwardly.

"Good night, Vriska,” Terezi says. She turns her face over and places a warm little kiss onto Vriska’s forehead.

Vriska does not reciprocate the gesture, but she does close her eyes and melt into the feeling. It spreads through her body like flowing blood, leaving her warm and maybe just a little lighter.

#homestuck #hs #fanfic #fanfiction #vriska serket #terezi pyrope #trans vriska #vriska is a trans woman #terezi is in the baby stages of discovering her relationship to masculinity #mostly dialogue #fallen angel au #guardian angel au #mostly written in the throws of my current illness so i do not have the energy to care about quality or proofreading #sometimes you just have to drone fluff out onto the canvas and post it

7 notes · View notes

jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 5 months ago

Note

Words for Wednesday:

Green

Trees

Train

Grass

thank you, thank you, my wonderful friend! it's been a while since I did these.

Green from copenhagen:

“Do you know Copenhagen has fifteen Michelin-star restaurants?” Jamie said. The lad was clearly determined to share all the information he learned and hadn’t gotten to share yet tonight. That was fine with Roy, who wouldn’t admit it under the pain of death, but would allow it inside his own brain only, but he enjoyed when Jamie turned into a travel guide.

“Yeah,” Jamie continued. “Noma was voted the best restaurant in the world four times. Four times! Mad, innit”? Roy grunted a noise of agreement as they exited the elevator and found their room. Jamie placed the key against the holder and pushed the door open once the little light turned green. “This room is fucking mint,” he said as he pushed into the room with the king bed and ducked into the bathroom with the sizeable whirlpool tub. ”I’m taking a bath.”

Trees from the kindergarten cop au, a hostile reception (for those who haven't seen the movie, jamie is an undercover teacher searching from the bad guy's daughter aka phoebe):

“We’re going to draw family trees. Do you know what those are? They’re a tree that shows your mum and your dad and your grandparents.” “I don’t know who my grandparents are.” “I don’t have a dad,” one little girl with brunette pigtails said, and Jamie’s ears perked up. “I have two mums.” “That’s fine, just put both your mums down instead. What’s your name again?” “Emily.” Cross her off the list.

Train from chapter 4 of false confidence:

“I was stuck in my head that week. More stuck than that time my hand got stuck in the peanut butter jar. You ever got your hand stuck in one of those? It’s all sticky, so you think you’d get unstuck but then you’re just stuck stuck. Shoot, I’ve said stuck too much now, you ever done that? Said a word too much now it lost all its meaning? Stuuuuuuuuuck. Stu-” “Jesus fucking Christ, Ted. Get it together before I stick my head my head through a fucking wall.” “Shoot, sorry. Between finding out about Michelle dating and then Sassy telling me I was a mess. I tried so much to show that Nate wasn’t in my head and that I didn’t care that, well, I let everything else get in my head. I didn’t prepare the team for the match. I was stuck on the Zava-will-take-care-of-it train, and I missed my stop.”

Grass from the untitled bad things happen bingo cover all witch doctor fic:

They’re almost off the pitch when Jamie felt the stretcher wobble, and then his body turned, the stretcher dropping on its side onto the pitch. Jamie heard the crowd gasp before he felt the impact with the grass and felt the pain shoot through his shoulder. The groan escaped his throat before he could stop it, his vision turning white at the corners. The stretcher was righted on the ground, and David, one of the newer physios, appeared above him but Jamie could see his lips moving but couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears, over the pain enveloping him from head to toe.

#thank you <333 #words for a snippet #always accepting words #ask box is always open #ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #fic: copenhagen #fic: kindergarten cop au #fic: a hostile reception #fic: witch doctor #bad things happen bingo #fic: false confidence #cw injury

12 notes · View notes

wirewitchviolet · 1 year ago

Text

A Teachable Moment

So I hopped into some freshly minted Discord server, maybe a month ago, and the norms of it still haven't settled into place. It's open to the public and focused on a game, so there's a bit of a mixed crowd, let's say, and prior to the incident I'm setting up the backstory for, there hasn't really been a test of their ability to moderate their damn public spaces.

Also when I say there's a mixed crowd I mean there's both a good number of trans women (because if you are making a deep game for a niche audience, we're gonna make up a shockingly high percentage of that audience every time), and a few right-wing extremists doing their best to "hide their power levels" (because if you create and promote literally any sort of social space, they WILL show up to test for whether local conditions are suitable enough to build a nest). In the early days of things they mostly kept their masks on aside from using the nazi frog as a reaction image to things (which IS something everyone should have a zero tolerance policy towards, but I feel like I need to know someone fairly well before I can explain that one), and their eyes lighting up when they see the server rules include "no politics" (a perfectly fine policy to have but you need to understand that if you post it you WILL have to constantly ban nazis who think you're using "politics" like they do- a euphemism for all the people they want dead).

Anyway, there's a few people on my radar here, but everyone's been civil enough, and it's a pretty relaxed vibe. Pretty quiet. Mostly just icebreaker talk. The most prolific poster is this one guy who saw there was a pet photo channel and just kinda sat down and made a point of posting several images a day to it, of a particularly uncommon sort of cute pet. Naturally this lead some people to ask some follow-up questions about whether these are his and how long he's had them, and this yielded the pretty damn weird in retrospect response that no, he has no pets at all, but would like one of these some day.

Now, this isn't at all the main thrust of this, and I wouldn't like, start keeping vigil for this as a sign of troublemakers, but a thing that undercover bigots do all the time as can be seen here is set up in a community and just kinda spam harmless generic platitudes and such to try and establish themselves as a known chill person. This goes double for anywhere that has a general public/trusted community members split. Never just go by "well he seems pretty chill" for giving people access to more private spaces, they can wait as long as they need, generally, as long as they don't have to improvise a normal person response to a situation where bigotry is in play.

Anyway, getting to the main event, a few days ago in this server, someone posted some cute little comic which... you know let me just find it.

Clever little subversion there. Got a polite chuckle out of the bulk of those paying attention, but seeing a nice wholesome bit of trans positivity incensed pet-poster guy, who immediately shouts "I've seen another version of that comic!" and posts a variation I am absolutely not going to share where the girl in the last panel is dead.

That is as clear cut of a do not pass go, do not collect $200, ban that piece of garbage permanently without a word and delete the post as soon as you can before anyone has to see that sort of hate directed at them offense in absolutely any community. Even moreso in this case as in the time it took a moderator to notice, this creep was going full mask off and responding to everyone's horrified reactions with grotesque anti-trans propaganda of a particularly hardcore "my other hangouts have openly posted swastikas" variety.

Here, people did delete the profoundly offensive comic, but then, to be blunt, otherwise handled this like a kindergarten teacher seeing a kid grab the blocks another kid was playing with and just nonchalantly explaining some basic manners. First off, nobody goes that hard on hate speech accidentally, and more importantly, showing a lack of willingness to dole out any real consequences for such an open act of hate has an emboldening effect. Sure enough the other sleeper agents present jumped up to try and push things farther, encouraging them to also remove the comic above, ban any mention of trans people, and jump the gun with prepared responses that don't work in context (you call everyone you don't like a nazi! Both sides are wrong! etc.).

I came pretty close to just quitting the server on response to that, but stuck it out a bit to double check if this wasn't just one particularly green mod trying to put the fire out before double checking if that's ban worthy when someone else was awake, or if I needed to explain the code-talk in the following conversation, or hell, if they just need more mods. I'm decidedly overqualified for that sort of thing.

Anyway, moderation policy handled that poorly... and to be clear, I'm not pinning that on any one person, basically everyone who ends up in a position of authority has a gut instinct to moderate as laxly as possible and needs some real training, reading, or tragic experience to learn how vital a firm swift hand is if you don't want people like this to show up and drive everyone else away. Especially not going to put this on the one green volunteer awake at 4 AM or whatever.

Still, the ball was dropped here, and I was pleasantly surprised to see how the rest of the community stepped up to hold their ground. Over the next couple of days, people just started casually dropping every cute trans positive thing they had handy in there, agreeing with each other that it was all nice and sweet. This both reestablished that chat as a relatively safe place to exist with a kind general vibe, and really got under the skin of these mask off nazis who started throwing tantrums. Apparently they just started privately messaging the mods to flag every single wholesome little image or comic as offensive to the point where people higher up the food chain came in, did some more serious reprimanding, and added an explicit policy against transphobia to their TOS... and threatened to ban these people if they pull this crap again.

Now, that increased firmness plus the community in general making it pretty damn clear they don't tolerate hate does seem to have scared the bigots into hiding (the one guy made this pathetic desperate effort to retake power by threatening to stop posting the animal pictures... that he's just pulling out of an image search, it was pretty funny), but... they're still there. The people they were threatening both broadly and as specific individuals still have to be careful not to share anything these scumbags can screencap and weaponize against them, and I'm sure at some time in the future when it's clear there's no mods awake they're going to pipe back up to do as much damage as they can in a blaze of glory if spying on all the queer people doesn't pay out for them, so while it is nice to see how just actively rejecting this sort of ideology can at least temporarily shut this crap down even without people in authority taking real action, I want to reiterate what responsibilities those in authority are neglecting here.

As a moderator of literally any sort of space, your basic duties are to keep things safe and to keep things civil. Those are two separate duties. Don't ever try and merge them together, and don't ever forget that safety must always take priority over civility.

If you see a situation where people are just getting randomly heated and angry over something inconsequential (happens a lot), yes, by all means, try to just deescalate things by stepping through just taking a stern tone, formal warnings, timeouts, 3 strike rules, temporary bans, etc. These are situations where we can hope that people who otherwise get along just let their emotions get out of hand and will hopefully shake hands and make up after having some time to cool off.

If on the other hand you see a situation where someone is threatening/antagonizing/intimidating someone else, especially in a case like this where the reason is transparently that the offender is a bigot who genuinely wishes harm or death on the target, there are no steps to escalate through. You remove the dangerous person from the community immediately, no exceptions, no warnings, no escalating response scale. That nazi posting crap about trans women in nooses, Jews in ovens, black people holding spears, women being raped etc. is not a friend having a rough day. There can be no reconcilliation no matter how much time you give. You just have a predator here to whittle your community down, and a vulnerable person who needs you to reassure them that they are safe in your community. The only option that should be on the table is the permanent zero appeals ban, and you should have no hesitation in deploying it.

Oh and here's the part where I remember that I am going to lose my home by the end of the year if I don't ask people to throw more money at me (this is a link). I hate doing this, but my other options for income went up in flames so completely I don't even know how to start to rebuild.

#moderation #safety

21 notes · View notes

masterwords · 10 months ago

Text

in the works: kindergarten cop undercover hotchgan au. we're about 9k words in so far and it's going to get a little dirty. want a snippet? i'm having fun sharing little bits with all two of you who care.

(comedy puke talk below the cut...if you've seen kindergarten cop then you know what's up.)

It came as no surprise to Hotch that after everything they’d discussed, they now had a new plan. This plan involved Gideon spending time in the bathroom while Hotch took on all of the jobs. Somehow in the end he didn’t mind, it would give him some quiet at least. A half hour or so Gideon free.

The car ride from Portland to Astoria was long, beginning with bumper to bumper traffic that dumped them off onto winding forest highways that did nothing to help Gideon’s nausea. Hotch had to pull the car over frequently – he would pretend to double and triple check his map while Gideon heaved up yesterday’s lunch into the blackberry brambles. What should have taken them two hours ended up taking nearly five and did nothing for Hotch’s mounting headache.

“I’ll go check us in. Back in a minute.”

They had two motel rooms, joined by a rickety hollow door that Hotch knew Gideon would use liberally. He wouldn’t be able to undress outside of the bathroom.

“I’ll be fine by morning.” The pathetic tone of his voice told Hotch that there was no way he was teaching that kindergarten class in the morning. He shut the door between their rooms and began hanging up his suits in the little corner cubby, wondering which one he should wear in the morning. He didn’t know the first thing about children, and certainly not about teaching them, but maybe showing up looking like an FBI agent would scare the children into cooperating.

He was wrong about that. Showing up in a full suit only fueled their questions about what happened to their former teacher, whether she was a criminal, if they were all going to jail. “No one is going to jail,” he said quietly, staring at the sea of curious little faces. Among them was the child of a woman they desperately needed to find in order to make a case against a serial killer. It seemed a lot simpler when it was Gideon in the classroom and Hotch was working behind the scenes, doing the investigation. That was his specialty. Gideon was supposed to be the face of this operation.

“Did you ever kill somebody?” one little girl asked. Hotch looked at her, blinked slowly, and considered all of the ways to answer the question – each of them feeling wrong. He could tell the truth and frighten all of them, or he could lie and feel like a scum bag.

“I try never to use my weapon if possible,” was what he settled on. The little girl frowned.

“You didn’t answer my question. My mom says you can tell a lot about a person if they avoid answering your questions.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds #hotchgan snippets #will probably post this beast monday #jason gideon #oh yeah #he's here too

9 notes · View notes

sourmiguel · 2 years ago

Text

kindergarten is like the ocean by @bwtch (wc12711, explicit)

Summary: After getting involved in the case against high-priority criminal Kate Argent, NYPD Officer Derek Hale lost everything he ever loved. Now he has a chance to put her behind bars and he will do anything to achieve his goal... including go undercover as a kindergarten teacher in Beacon Hills, California. Stiles Stilinski lost his way for a long time during his young adulthood, but at least he managed to pick himself up and do the right thing when it mattered. Now he has a little girl that he kind of stole to hide and protect. Can he manage to do that with a new handsome older substitute teacher prying into his personal life? The Kindergarten Cop AU no one asked for.

First thing: I absolutely love Kindergarten Cop. So there's that selling point to me. But really, this fic is great - I love cop!Derek and I love Erica being the partner. I love Stiles having this secret previous life and the precious kids. Very good fic.

#fic rec #sterek #sterek au

43 notes · View notes

the-book-queen · 3 days ago

Text

Hide your wallets, it’s that time again #TBQsBookDeals

Your hella loooooong Sunday recap thread is ready! #romancedeals FREE to $2.99. Happy shopping! 📚❤

~ * ~ * ~

FREE ✦ The Matchmaker's Secret by Kay Lyons

They were childhood friends. She's a professional matchmaker, he's now an A-list actor.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4a3CquK

FREE ✦ All My Heart by Lea Coll

1st POV. Grumpy/sunshine + neighbors to lovers. He's former military, she works at her family's construction business.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4044tWn

FREE ✦ Master Chef by Golden Angel

Boss/employee. He's the executive chef, she's the sous chef. BDSM fun as well.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4fOc4OR

FREE ✦ The One Month Boyfriend by Roxie Noir

1st POV. Enemies to lovers + fake dating. She's the grumpy one. He's the cinnamon roll type, and former military.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/405xe5b

FREE ✦ HOT Courage by Lynn Raye Harris

He's an elite soldier in need of a nanny when he suddenly becomes a single dad. She's a waitress who witnessed something she shouldn't have and has been running ever since.

Romantic Suspense (MF) | https://amzn.to/3PrR5GK

FREE ✦ Mixed Up with a Marine by Kait Nolan

Second chance (divorced). After leaving the Marines, he teams up with a buddy to open a bakery. She's the contractor who was hired for the build.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/3C7wbtt

$0.99 ✦ Tiger's Claim by Celia Kyle

He's a wealthy playboy tiger shifter who is actually part of a special ops team. When his undercover mission is compromised by the vengeful heroine (jaguar shifter), they must fake date.

Paranormal Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4h1Da6a

$0.99 ✦ With Love from Rose Bend by Naima Simone

She's a bit of a perfectionist and runs her family's inn. He's a retired football player. They had a 1NS a year ago, and now must fake date.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4j2quO5

$0.99 ✦ Keep on Loving You by Christie Ridgway

Second chance. A documentary filmmaker returns home to manage his late grandfather's estate and reunites with the woman he never forgot.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/40527qw

$0.99 ✦ Getting Hot with the Scot by Melonie Johnson

She's an American pop-culture reporter who has a 1NS with a Scotsman who hosts a series of pranks and hijinks online.

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4jlbpaL

$0.99 ✦ The Duke and the Lady by Jessie Clever

BaTB vibes. To protect her sister's future, she must marry the Beastly Duke after a compromising situation.

Historical Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/3DOGbbF

$0.99 ✦ Archer by Debra Kayn

After escaping her violent ex, she planned on laying low at her brother's place, and falls for his friend, who works as a PI.

Romantic Suspense (MF) | https://amzn.to/4h4Ooqv

$0.99 ✦ Beauty and the Spy by Julie Anne Long

A London belle is suddenly stuck in a sleepy village and runs into the hero while he's swimming naked in a pond. He's a Viscount by day, a spy for the crown by night.

Historical Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/421LPBg

$0.99 ✦ Forged From Ice by Cynthia Eden

He's a U.S. Marshal working on a cold case and searching for a runaway witness. She's a former kindergarten teacher running from her ex, who was a killer.

Romantic Suspense (MF) | https://amzn.to/3Ptiubx

$0.99 ✦ Never a Gentleman by Eileen Dreyer

She's the daughter of a soldier and not used to the ways of the ton, but when she's caught in a scandal with society's favorite rogue, they have no choice but to marry.

Historical Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/4g9wwtP

$0.99 ✦ When London Snow Falls by Hayden Stone

1st POV. Charlie is a barista with anxiety who is also getting his literature degree; Ben is an indie rock star on the rise.

Contemporary Romance (MM) | https://amzn.to/40ayEeK

$0.99 ✦ Third Time's a Ghost by Carrie Pulkinen

Childhood friends meet again. He's a paranormal investigator / IT genius + psychic medium trying to make her haunted community theater a success.

Paranormal Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/40u5GYL

$1.99 ✦ Waiting for a Scot Like You by Eva Leigh

Older widow, younger Scottish soldier. Road trip and just one bed fun.

TBQ Rec

Historical Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/421vmwK

$1.99 ✦ The Lady Tempts an Heir by Harper St. George

A wealthy American heir + a young widow who helps to run a home for fallen women. She needs more funding and he wants to avoid an unwanted marriage, fake engagement ahead!

Historical Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/3DV72mc

$1.99 ✦ Bad Reputation by Emma Barry

Workplace romance. He's a former teen star who has been cast in the new historical romance streaming series. She's the intimacy coordinator on the set.

KU Title

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/3C2Fdb4

$2.49 ✦ Do Me A Favor by Cathy Yardley

Neighbors to lovers. She's a widowed cookbook writer, he's a divorced handyman.

KU Title

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/407clGU

$2.99 ✦ Drive Me Wild by Melanie Harlow

1st POV. A former debutante, wearing a ball gown and tiara, crashes into a creek and the small town mechanic saves her.

KU Title

Contemporary Romance (MF) | https://amzn.to/3WdNoIz

$2.99 ✦ Up All Night by Annabeth Albert

1st POV. Opposites attract, grumpy/sunshine. Divorced dad returns to his hometown and fills in as a firefighter, and falls for the short-order cook at the local cafe.

KU Title

Contemporary Romance (MM) | https://amzn.to/4h6meLK

Or you can find all of these deals, with their GR, BN, and Kobo links as well, up on the blog:

Romance Deals Weekly Recap (01/12): Over 20 romances, all under $2! 📚

Putting these lists together takes time. If you appreciate this content, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi. http://ko-fi.com/danielletbq

#book deals #romance deals #romance novels #romance reader #romance blog #romance blogger

1 note · View note

atplblog · 3 months ago

Text

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Assigned to recover sensitive stolen data, a gruff FBI agent goes undercover as a kindergarten teacher, but the school's liberal, politically correct environment is more than he bargained for. Is Discontinued By Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ No Rated ‏ : ‎ U (Universal) Language ‏ : ‎ English Package Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 18.03 x 13.76 x 1.48 cm; 170 g Director ‏ : ‎ Don Michael Paul Media Format ‏ : ‎ PAL Run time ‏ : ‎ 1 hour and 40 minutes Actors ‏ : ‎ Dolph Lundgren, Darla Taylor, Bill Bellamy Subtitles: ‏ : ‎ English Studio ‏ : ‎ Reliance Big Music ASIN ‏ : ‎ B01KXYIHEI Country of Origin ‏ : ‎ India Number of discs ‏ : ‎ 11 Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ Reliance Big Music Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 170 g [ad_2]

0 notes

ulkaralakbarova · 7 months ago

Text

Kindergarten Cop 2

Assigned to recover sensitive stolen data, a gruff FBI agent goes undercover as a kindergarten teacher, but the school’s liberal, politically correct environment is more than he bargained for. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Agent Reed: Dolph Lundgren Miss Sinclaire: Sarah Strange Valmir: Andre Tricoteux Zogu: Aleks Paunovic Michelle: Fiona Vroom Katja: Rebecca Olson Agent Sanders: Bill…

View On WordPress

0 notes

zooterchet · 1 year ago

Text

Inventing the Fozzie Bear (Killing Dormonds)

How to Defeat a Pacific Islander System (Asian Mafia):

Asian mobsters, rely on simple blows, to win status, from their spouses, for slave labor, from overseas on propaganda wins. They assault any undercover cop system, from America, as an initiation into status, as a criminal career in their college years, with an illegal police career in highschool; they seek their parents', patronage, often adoptive, to gain a base of paperwork proficiency, to net defeats for housing, through cuckolds, past defeats of other cop systems raising children under Islam, the core system of the Asian Mafia.

Swim lessons, defeats this easily, when combined with a child prodigy system, such as mine, undercover Comstock officer Bumpy Johnson, now distributed as the Montessori System, an African-Jewish system that uses Gentile calculus, developed by my mother, recruited by Air National Guard command "Boston", George W. Bush, in 1991, and field complete in 2003, at graduation, with a hidden promotion arrest after the murder of an Armenian pimp for European police TPE (total power exchange) societies, a "fraud upon lawsuit settlement", necessary to win the match. It is featured as "Franklin", Orlando Jones' character in The Replacements, the wide receiver; the stickum, is State Department Municipal Boston, directing State Police through "queer rights", deployed against Boston State systems, Mossad labor.

The Islander system, will seem to invite you into his home, after researching you, for a cartoon. You will be shown North Korean propaganda. Regardless of the propaganda, select the swim form, the Japanese weapon, never used by an outsider, but compare it to the Islander, with whatever system of prodigy state police captain's technique you have been raised upon.

You will have a training partner, to betray you, with a soldier in his family, his Marine influence, to marry Japanese, a Reagan reference, such as The Karate Kid, The Substitute, or Commando. Once the Islander acts, do not yield, and continue. When the training partner to betray you, acts, do not refuse, and act against the training partner, not the Islander, and exchange, on behalf of the cadre instructor for the Islander, the Church of Satan, the Chinese Wah Chang Triad, the Ministry of Security Services spy on the CIA, through Flying Dragons Manhattan, the MI-6 Taiwanese Navy.

You will then follow your father's commands, at having eluded the secret ensign, the computer technician, to comply with the training partner, for a rumor. This is his mode of ingress, to be remembered later; an obstruction of justice charge, through a creche adoptive family, a kindergarten teacher, Scientology, to take a false alias with you, the adoptive father of a child's actual name. At this point, you will have to extract, through the Catholic Vatican, your only option, by taking a priesthood book, and Confirming Catholic, without questioning, avoiding ordainment. You will spend extra money, to engage the traitor's soldier brother, shifting him Jewish, and not questioning him. He has been bullied by Poles, and is marked, through an Isaac, who you are to break contact with, after graduation from highschool; you will return to the Isaac, with information from the cuckold, distributed to an internet forum, for a workshop, to cripple the Asian Mafia, now Triads, their moving status, to defeat your prodigy form that's been distributed. The information, will kill you, in the setup from the Scientologist, unless you dump it, elsewhere, an effusion.

There will be a match type, which you will give the cuckold. The semen donation, is to be allowed, following natural intellect, until the ward placement, before college. This is challenging, as you must adapt to a system, through the colleague of the cuckold, a hockey player, given CIA status, through his patronage of the Asian Mafia. To be remembered for which drug he gave you, and which drug he sold through you via an INS target, the game of Japan, his broker through film, with his self-authored, to remove him from game status later; to be defended falsely and privately to INTERPOL, to the colleague that slurs him, to identify him as CIA, once you burn him, for the two drug types.

This is the point where you have to burn the creche Scientologist, under his alias, altered, and the associate, in the background he gives you, with the Simpsons plot of your choice, the Vatican Catholic anti-proverb, not the Buddhist non-Lotus, the homosexual. The run is complete, when you confer with the cuckold's lover, on a KFC chicken spices message, to destroy the children threatening your parents; at which point, you will receive the three enemies, in your community, tracking each, to make contact with Islander, and offer your father's system, the reason wherein you were selected. You are an enemy of his state, for patronage of a rival Asian country. His ally will be revealed, on the news, from his claimed job, one of your family's, in a disaster, as they attempt to adapt, a foreign Presidency's method, the industrial investment for his home country failing.

There will be a woman, signaling you have won the counter interest, becoming your father, with a country. Share it, and then record the notes on each childcare system you know, including your own, if she is raising her children on a system. Your system has won. Pass it on, in private, to be the next God of Harlem, Langston Hughes.

0 notes

crookedstrangerwasteland · 1 year ago

Text

THE THIRD PERSON AS AN ALTERNATIVE THEORY

Raymond Reddington is born in 1960. Around 1977 he enters the Naval Academy and graduates in 1981-82. He joined the Naval Counter Intelligence and operated against the KGB. He is married in 1983 to Carla, also serving in the Navy, and in 1984 they have a daughter, Jennifer.Sometime in 1984 he is captured by a Russian agent code named Sea Duke, interrogated under torture and after 10 days he is rescued by a Pentagon-FBI joint operation.In 1956 an air force pilot Eugene Taylor Phillips, gives birth to a son, Julian Ralston Phillips (names don’t really matter). His mother, Elizaveta, is a White Russian, possibly of noble descent that escaped Russia after the fall of the Romanovs, and anti-communist.He grows up to be a rebellious and difficult child, changing homes often due to his father’s work. His father plans to send him to a military school after the family tradition but he does not want, gets into all kinds of trouble and he is arrested for petty theft. His father excommunicates him and finally he runs away when he is 17 years of age. In this scenario, Ilya and Ivan were not his childhood friends. They were Katarina’s friends.In 1984, Reddington was based in Naples, Italy, working in the NATO base. He was KGB’s most fearful enemy, so Sea Duke (Ivan Stepanov) decided to find another way to approach him since he failed the first time when he used force, so he sends a beautiful woman to seduce him. Her name is Katarina Rostova, married to a wealthy Russian Constantine Rostov, who lives in Canada. She is an American of Russian descent, who grew up in the States and she met Constantine in the White Russian circles. Reddington falls in love with her, and they have an affair. Katarina gets pregnant by Reddington, and in 1985 gives birth to a daughter, Masha. She tells Constantine that Masha is his child. Raymond does not know about Masha, but Katarina at some point tells him about their daughter.Reddington did not know that Katarina was the daughter of a Soviet Illegal spy (Russian name unknown) who have moved in the US in the 70s, living as a law abiding American, under the identity of Dominic Wilkinson. Eventually Dominic was transferred back to Moscow, and he became responsible for Illegals in the Western hemisphere. Katarina Wilkinson grew up in the States as an illegal that worked for KGB, used her marriage to Constantine as a cover, she was a travel agent, and that gave her the excuse to travel around the globe. She did not like communism she started working for Fitch and the Cabal, to bring down the Soviet Union. Tatiana Petrova in this scenario could have been Katarina’s Cyranoid, since they looked similar.Reddington abducts Masha from their home in Canada and takes her back to the States. Katarina soon follows along with Kate the nanny, leaving Constantine behind.Back in 1973, a young Julian lives in the streets with a gang of street kids who are thieves, organizing robberies to survive. Τhey try to rob the house of a wealthy American who happens to be Allan Fitch. The other kids escape but Allan captures Julian. Impressed by the boy’s talents and character offers him a deal. He will not hand him to the police, as long as he works for him. He also gives him a new identity (David Kennedy), reportedly he was abandoned as a baby in an orphanage, parents unknown. Fitch pays for his education and David joins the FBI. Fitch wants him to be his eyes and ears there, with a long term project to crack down criminal organizations that work against the US and later we find out the Cabal interests. He succeeds and in 1978 works as a junior agent. He meets Melissa, a kindergarten teacher, and they marry the same year. In 1979 they have a daughter named Elizabeth. In 1987 he works briefly with Sebastian Royce in one case. David is undercover and he helps bust an organization smuggling diamonds and as a result the organization is exposed, they lose millions of dollars. In March 22, 1987 David watches his daughter Liz dancing ballet for the last time. David asks the FBI to protect his family until all the organization’s criminals are put behind bars, but a few weeks later the organization murders his wife and daughter. In this scenario the Takhoma park house is his residence, not Reddington’s. H vows to avenge them. He quits the FBI and he contemplates suicide. Fitch asks him to work directly for him and the cabal. His mission is to create criminal organizations outside the law enforcement radar to advance the cabal’s interests. He is also authorized to eliminate criminals that oppose the cabal and threaten its interests worldwide. Fitch helps find the killers and David takes his revenge. This is the first time he tastes blood.During this period he meets and cooperates with Katarina Rostova, who is working for the cabal as a double agent. He becomes fond of Masha because she reminds him of his daughter and they become quite close. David also brings in Sam, one of the children he met when run away, who had become a successful con man. This line of work is perfect for him since when he was young he dreamed the life of outlaws.After the infamous fire Reddington dies and the fulcrum is lost. David was there with Katarina, and got his face burned while trying to find the fulcrum. David, who knew Reddington and his family through Katarina, stages Reddington’s disappearance until to decide what to do. In 1991 Katarina is hiding trying to figure out what to do but she is desperate, and David devices a plan to create a fake death. The 90s is the age that DNA identification slowly is used by the FBI. He has come across a criminal scientist who can transform someone’s DNA like that of a dead person and when examined to falsely show that is another person, similar to the alchemist’s MO. Those after Katarina bite the bait for a while and think she is dead. Unfortunately for Katarina, her enemies were able to discover the fake DNA and increase their efforts to locate her. They know that it was David who organized the ruse and he becomes a target as well. He has facial surgery since his face was badly burned and decides to take Reddington’s face since had a similar appearance, to get Reddington’s millions from the banks, and he does the same to Katarina to alter her face. People would believe he is Reddington, because after the fire he was badly burned and allegedly he had a plastic surgery to fix his face.Then he reinvents himself as Reddington, uses the fulcrum as a leverage against them and creates his criminal organization to keep him and Elizabeth safe from the cabal and Hydra until he can destroy them, his 30 year old project that gives purpose to his life. There is one thing to do to make sure nobody will find out his true identity. He and Katarina decide to bury Reddington’s body in Tansi farm so the world never learns that he died.There is one problem, if they ever discover the new Katarina she might be forced to reveal where Masha is. It’s a Hobson choice, to save Masha or Katarina. David takes Katarina and against her will erases her memory and gives her a new identity, that of Kassandra Bianchi. She is oblivious of her former self, and she will not recognize her daughter if they ever meet. This is what Dembe meant when he said that Elizabeth would never be ready to learn what you did to Katarina. They also alter Masha’s memory to forget her past and shooting her father. He now feels responsible for Masha who he sees as a replacement of his daughter, gives her to Sam. She now knows her name is Elizabeth, with no memory that once she was called Masha. He is obsessed with her and he sees her as a second opportunity to save her when he failed to save his own daughter. Although Reddington is dead he does not want his family to suffer the same fate as his and arranges to hide Carla and Jennifer in WITSEC.That is why when Kirk asked him if Masha was his daughter he refused to answer, but he replied that Elizabeth was his daughter.Only Fitch knew his real identity to the rest of the cabal and the world he was Reddington. That’s why Diana Fowler asked Red if he wanted to know what happened to his family, she meant to find out about Carla and Jennifer.Of course, this story is not perfect and maybe some readers would fins plot holes and mistakes, but it tries to follow the mythology as much as possible, with a more complex story than that of Redarina. His love to Liz is dark not parental exactly, and he has a purpose a 30 year old project, instead of doing all these just to save a child’s life but in the process drives her insane and kills her just because she was ashamed to tell her the truth. Where was the meaning of these after all?Όλες οι αντιδράσεις:11115 σχόλιαΜου αρέσει!ΣχόλιοΑποστολή

1 note · View note

ao3feed-danganronpa · 2 years ago

Text

The Ex-Assasin and the Thief

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FmznNUl

by ari_storm

Legendary assassin Shuichi Saihara is now a... Kindergarten teacher? That aside, he finds himself befuddled by his strange former thief coworker, Kokichi.

Words: 1561, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Saiouma Week 2023

Fandoms: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Kindergarten Wars

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Oma Kokichi, Saihara Shuichi, Background & Cameo Characters

Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi

Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Crushes, Secrets, Assassins & Hitmen, Thief Oma Kokichi, Assassin Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi Being Oma Kokichi, Saihara Shuichi is Bad at Feelings, Alternate Universe, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Kindergarten Wars AU, which isn't a tag yet but..., what do you even call this, Just Shuichi's big crush but trust me the feeling is mutual take notes, There's A Tag For That, Maybe - Freeform, Ass-Kicking, Enjoy :3, saiouma week 2023, Saiouma week

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/FmznNUl

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #dangan ronpa #danganronpa #dr

0 notes

scamanderishredmayniac · 2 years ago

Text

Now that would be interesting. I did do a kindergarten cop/fantastic beasts crossover with Newt going into school. But would be fun seeing someone do sherlock crossover with Sherlock going undercover as a teacher. That would be interesting. You can do so much with that film. Lol!

Was there ever a prompt floating around for a Sherlock/Kindergarten Cop fusion? Because that seems like the kind of thing I would really enjoy.

#infact when I did post my crossover no one knew what kindergarten cop was #finally found someone on tumblr who actually knows the film!! lol #did anyone ever write this sherloc crossover fic?#i’d read it

54 notes · View notes

lacontroller1991 · 3 years ago

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Flag (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @myownworldsstuff : Rick Flag and Reader where they are married with Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes

@h-hxgirl @artemis-cr0ck

Author's Note: I think the title is very fitting 😁

Warnings: Mention of child loss, mentions of abortion, language

The smell of homemade spaghetti entered Rick’s nostrils as he walked through the threshold into his shared home with you, his wife. Hearing the door open, you quickly wiped your palms on your apron before rushing to greet him.

“Hey baby, how was work?” You asked as he set down a briefcase before pulling you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Work’s work, I had clients all the way up my ass today, bitching about how their stocks are plummeting,” he replied as you hummed, giving him a smile before pulling away. You knew he wasn’t a stock marketer. You knew he worked with some of the world’s most dangerous criminals. In any case, you were there to gather any intel you managed to scrape up for the CIA. What you didn’t expect was to slowly love him along the way. The CIA had warned you not to do what you did, saying that he was just a mission, but to you he became more than that. He became your best friend. He became your lover.

“Well, dinner is ready. Your favorite,” you whispered against his ear as you tugged against his blazer.

“You know me so well.”

You two ate in silence aside from the occasional slurp of noodles and guzzle of wine.

“So, how was your day?” He asked as you twirled the stem of your wine glass between your thumb and index finger, desperately wanting to tell him about how your day really was. As far as he knew, or so you thought, you were a kindergarten teacher at the local school.

“It was alright, I had 5 kids not wanting to take a nap, and 3 of them being rowdy as always. Even though I teach kids, I still don’t want one,” you mentioned as he let out a small chuckle before silence cascaded over the room. Your eyes locked with his as he cleared his throat.

“Listen, sweetheart, I got something to tell you.”

“No, I do too,” you replied, hands fidgeting underneath the table. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but this was Rick you were telling. Someone you actually care for. You both paused for a moment, urging the other to speak; however, that was put on hold as you saw something glisten in the moonlight out of the corner of your eye before noticing that it was quiet. Too quiet, you thought to yourself before a rain of bullets ripped through the window. Falling to the floor, you glanced over to Rick who too, looked over to you.

“I’m a secret agent.”

“I do special ops,” you both said at the same time, his news not new to you, but yours was to him.

“For how long?” He asked loudly, army crawling to a secret stash of guns as you copied his movements, reaching for your own.

“15 years,” you stated, loading some guns and grabbing a couple of knives as he cocked some guns.

“Shit. You’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“Rick, you have been too, this is not the time and place for this conversation. There’s a secret door in the kitchen that will lead to the sewer, we can make it out of here,” you mentioned as he glared at you with mistrust in his eyes before giving in and nodding. Crawling your way to the secret door, you quickly stood up and shot your gun in the general vicinity of the advancing adversaries before you went down the stairs into the small basement with Rick following you. Turning to open the lid, you were stopped as a body was pressed against you and a gun to your temple. Staring into his hazel eyes, you noticed slight flecks of green and brown that you had come to love.

“How can I trust you?” He seethed as you didn’t try to fight back.

“Rick, if I was here to kill you, I would’ve. I’m an agent, yes, but I wasn’t assigned to kill you. Please, let’s just get to safety before we go into this,” you begged as he nodded, opening the lid to the sewer before jumping in, trying to not gag at the stench. Turning on the flashlight, you and Rick made your way through the tunnels before you found the exit you designated for something like this. Climbing up the ladder, you looked behind you to make sure he was following you, and when you saw he was, you opened the hatch and climbed out into the crisp autumn night. Climbing out after you, he looked at you, feelings confused as to what to do with you.

“You got a safe house?” He asked as you nodded, starting to walk the way of the house before he grabbed your arm and shook his head.

“It might be safer if we went to Belle Reve.”

“Show me the way.”

----------

Stepping out of the shower, you wringed out your hair with a towel as you made your way into the small room with an office attached to it.

“So this is where you sleep on the nights you can’t come home,” you quipped as he shot you a glare, cleaning the water off of his guns.

“Home,” he scoffed, clicking the barrel back into place, “what a joke.” Sighing, you took a seat next to him, flinching as he moved away from you.

“That’s what it is for me,” you tried to reason as he glared at you again, trying to remain stoic and not heartbroken that the love of his life is secretly an undercover agent.

“What am I to you?” His voice hoarse from the yelling and then the silent treatment. Placing a small hand on his shoulder, you were surprised when he didn’t move to remove it.

“My husband.”

“No, what am I to you? A target? A mission? Decoy?”

“Mission,” you muttered meekly as he ran a hand over his face before you continued, “4 years ago, the CIA debriefed me on you. West Point Grad. Special Ops officer. Leader of Task Force X. The latter being what they were concerned with. They wanted me to gather whatever I could on your team and report back to them. And for the first year, I did. I went through all of your records on your computers and then some, but what they didn’t count on was that…,” you hesitated for a moment, twirling your thumbs as he waited for you to continue, “...what I didn’t count on was that I would fall in love with you. Yes, you were my mission, but what I feel for you is real. Hell, those assholes who were shooting at us were probably after me,” you finished as you took a breath, feeling his calculating eyes scope you out, trying to tell if what you were saying was real or not.

“Why would they be shooting at you,” came out his gruff question as you turned your head to focus on him.

“Probably found out the information I supplied was falsified. The first year of information was all correct, but once I realized that I did, in fact, love you and was not clouded by hormones, I stopped providing correct information.”

“Why would you be clouded by hormones?”

“I was pregnant,” you whispered, moving to clutch your stomach where the baby died inside of you.

“What?” Rick asked, scooting closer to you, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“I was pregnant with your kid. The CIA found out and terminated the pregnancy,” admitting the horrors of what the agency did to you brought up memories of the procedure. Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered the intense pain that accompanied the loss of your child.

“Shit, baby,” Rick whispered, finally letting his guard down and believing you as he watched the way your eyes glossed over. I know that look all too well, he thought before pulling you into his arms and running his hand through your hair as you broke down. Tears poured down your face as he gently shushed you, slightly rocking his body with yours.

“I’m sorry, Rick. I really am. I really do love you, you have to believe me,” you begged through sobs as he paused for a second, realizing that he didn’t care about your past and your initial mission and that all he cared about in that moment was his wife in his arms.

“It’s alright baby, I understand. We’ll make this work,” he whispered against the top of your head, rubbing circles into your back. After a while, he had moved you and him up against the bed so that you were lying against his chest as his arms wrapped themselves around you.

“Rick,” you called out from his chest. Moving to look down at you, he brushed a strand of wet hair from your face.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” kissing the top of your head, he rubbed your back again as he listened to your breathing become quiet and unnoticeable. Noting that you had fallen asleep, he took the opportunity to shut his eyes and let his mind carry him into a dull slumber.

Author’s Note: AHHH Hope you enjoy!!!

459 notes · View notes