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moonbaby26 · 3 years

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Title: Aftermath

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set after the battle with Apocalypse, you and the others are finally picked up from Cairo by allied forces and transported to a nearby aircraft carrier for temporary shelter/debriefing while you try to arrange travel back into the U.S. The reader helps Peter work through the continued emotional fallout from realizations of all that his father Magneto has done.

Warnings: Some cursing. More emotional baggage being unloaded. But also fluff/comfort, and eventual brief makeout session to help with the stress relief.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

Like Magneto had warned, it’d still been a long time before anyone had come to help. Trying to put back together some semblance of working communication equipment from the remnants of the jet, and whatever they could scavenge from the damaged homes and buildings all around had taken Hank and Moira long enough.

But even when Moira could finally establish renewed contact with the outside world to put out a distress call, finding a U.S. ally willing and even capable to fly into ground zero to pluck all of you out was another matter.

Unfortunately, you had eventually realized that the destruction here in Cairo hadn’t been all there was. Most population centers through the world had been impacted, many of the larger air and naval bases among them. It was hard to say how much had been Apocalypse, and how many had fallen solely because of Magneto though. From the little bit Moira did relay back to you all, the more metal any structure had had in it, the more likely it had ended up decimated.

It was only helicopters that finally came, no runway area available in all the rubble for any larger plane. When the soldiers exited them, you picked up that they were all speaking Greek.

“We’ll all be going to the island of Crete.” Xavier had confirmed, meeting with you all before boarding. “There is an allied naval base there, where U.S. officials will be awaiting to debrief us.”

It was no surprise that he could sense the unease in the majority of you, after all that had occurred the last time you’d been forced into helicopters with men dressed in military fatigues like this.

He had changed then to communicating telepathically with each of you individually, to give the soldiers no chance to overhear. Though the message was the same for everyone. “We will all be split onto only two helicopters. I will be in one, and Jean in the other. If they should even think of anything unsavory, we will, let’s say alter their plans to otherwise. But everyone stay at least paired please as precaution. Together, you are all your own best protection.”

It’d been no question that you would board with Peter. On one helicopter it would end up being the Professor, Moira, Peter, yourself, and the white haired girl you now knew as Ororo Munroe. On the other, Hank, Raven, Jean, Scott, and Kurt.

Ororo had actually been rather nice to talk to, once she was no longer trying to blast you out of the sky anyway. You’d learned she’d been living on the streets of Cairo for quite some time, just stealing to survive before she’d run into Apocalypse by chance when he was first trying to recruit powerful mutants.

When she’d spoken about having no living family, and thereby no desire to stick around in Egypt any longer, Kurt had been the one to excitedly tell her all about the school. Which the Professor had already vowed to rebuild thankfully, inviting Ororo immediately should she wish to join you all.

Gladly, she accepted, and by the time the soldiers were sliding the helicopter doors closed, the sun was finally setting. The interior lighting was already dim, as you glanced over to Peter in the growing darkness, seated together on bench like seats along the inner hull. He’d been waiting until the very last moment you thought to see if Erik would come back, but he never did. Though you couldn’t imagine Magneto ever would have agreed to travel like this. Or that the Greek airmen would have even allowed it, still knowing he was wanted worldwide.

You did believe Xavier though. When the dust finally settled, you thought Erik would be back. He’d find his own way home. And to contact Peter again, he’d only have to reach out to the Professor. Which of course Erik would no doubt, as those two old friends always crossed paths again eventually from all the stories you had heard. They never gave up on each other in the end, despite all their differences in beliefs.

You didn’t fight it when you finally began to nod off. Even over the pulsing of the helicopter and the radio chatter coming from the soldiers’ headsets, it was all just white noise eventually. Peter had his arm around your waist, his head leaned back against the hull and yours on his shoulder as you’d both fallen asleep somewhere over the now moonlit Mediterranean Sea.

——————————

Waking up had been much harder. As stiff as you were from the helicopter ride, you still had been in no hurry to move as you’d heard your name called. Xavier was trying to round you all up before the soldiers got impatient.

They’d at least provided him a wheelchair you noticed as you all groggily reconvened on what was actually the flight deck of a large U.S. aircraft carrier now docked in the bay alongside the Greek naval base.

All of you certainly looked worse for wear, Peter especially had his glasses skewed almost comically now, hair mussed in about every direction as he yawned big, standing on one leg with an arm thrown over your shoulders for support.

Once you were all accounted for on deck, the Professor spoke quickly. “Given the state of things, there will not be any transatlantic flights available currently. We will be staying here in the short term. For all of you, you will be given medical treatment as needed in this ship’s sick bay. We have also been provided sleeping arrangements separate of the crew. I am asking all of you to please rest up as best you can tonight. Moira and I will speak to these gentlemen as to the events that have transpired today.”

The “gentlemen” Xavier referred to looked about as pleased to be here as you all had been to wake up in Stryker’s base. You knew little of actual military rankings, but from the amount of bars on the fronts of their uniforms, you’d guess they were pretty high up there in authority.

But the Professor only continued in your heads for good measure. “Please understand that non-mutants especially are on edge right now. There were fatalities and very extensive damages to some cities today. I implore you all to be patient with any persons you may encounter on this ship. I believe they’ve moved the majority of the crew to the mainland already to better quarantine us here and limit tensions. But please remember, that by your demeanor and your choices, you represent us all. I will reach out to you all as soon as I know anything more on our options for returning home.”

He’d bid you all good night then, leaving with Moira and the most senior looking of the men while the rest of you had followed some nervous looking officers to the lower decks. You got the sense that Hank and Raven now felt obligated to chaperone and protect the group, as the oldest of you now, only second to the Professor.

Raven had assumed her blonde, human appearance before the helicopters had arrived, but without his medicine Hank could only remain in his Beast form. You could tell how uncomfortable both he and Kurt now made the soldiers as Hank had requested to accompany you and Peter to the sick bay, while Raven went with the others to whatever living quarters you were being given.

You’d be lying to say that their obvious judgment on Hank and Kurt’s physical appearances didn’t bother you. But you tried to remind yourself that they also didn’t know any better. They didn’t know how ridiculously smart, and even a bit nerdy and loyal Hank could be. Or how kind, forgiving, and genuine Kurt was.

When you did get to the sick bay, the doctor on call also looked like he’d just been dragged in there against his better judgement. But he did greet you all, saying he’d been made aware that there was a broken leg he needed to set and make a cast for.

His reaction to the metal splint Peter already had though was almost something funny. You knew Peter wanted to joke so badly about his “dad making it for him”, but you’d all agreed before the helicopters had arrived to downplay Erik’s role in all of this if he didn’t show himself.

Xavier had promised to make clear to the U.S. officials that Erik had been on your side in the end though. Yes, Magneto had blood on his hands from past and present, but having the world pursue him any further would only lead to more violence. It wouldn’t undo anything that had already been done.

Beast had been strong enough to unbend the metal with his bare hands, carefully removing the splint. He’d also helped Peter get out of the flight suit and dirtied clothing to wash up. Though they’d just cut his clothing away from his broken leg with surgical shears, not to injure it any further.

They’d put a screen up for some privacy while they worked on him. You knew Hank would protect Peter, so you were okay focusing on yourself a bit as you also got undressed and a nurse checked you for broken bones. With your clothes off, you finally got to see how badly bruised you were everywhere. But they’d agreed that your only actually damaged bones were cracked ribs, which there was no real treatment for save going easy to give them proper time to heal.

After the examination, you were allowed to take a shower. Which was honestly more amazing than you expected, not realizing just how much dirt, sweat, and blood had accumulated through all of this. Afterward, you’d gotten dressed with some clothes they’d left you. A plain white t-shirt with a small U.S. Navy insignia, and dark blue sweatpants essentially.

They’d offered to escort you to where the others were bunked. But you declined, choosing to wait for Hank and Peter instead.

And it had been a while, but eventually they cane back out. You could see they’d gotten the same treatment as you while here. Both had showered, though Peter made a point to laugh at how poor Hank had had to help him essentially get a trash bag tied over his leg cast first so he wouldn’t get it wet.

They had on the same white t-shirts as you as well now. Though even in the largest size, Hank’s looked uncomfortably small. Hank also got the same blue pants as you, but for Peter it was only blue shorts to accommodate his cast. You all looked like you were late for P.E. class honestly, albeit maybe at a U.S. Naval academy somewhere. You’d gotten a good deal of amusement from that.

They’d given Peter crutches too, which he was clearly playing with as he tried to see how quick he could move on them. Hank reprimanded him more than once when Peter had almost fallen flat on his face a few times on your way to the bunks.

The soldiers hadn’t separated you into guys and girls for the sleeping arrangements. Probably because to them the separation was more mutant/non-mutant only in all reality. But it didn’t bother you any. Really you felt safer knowing everyone else was close. By the time you had gotten to the bunks though, it was already lights out and Raven was the only one still awake waiting for you three.

“Sleep where you want,” She said, motioning to all the still empty beds. It looked like this block was meant to house a lot more than just your small number, but had evidently been cleared out for your arrival. Still being on a ship though where space was at a premium and the beds were double stacked and inset into the walls, it would be sleeping like books on a shelf.

You’d walked down a ways past your sleeping friends to find some open ones. Naturally you started to climb into the top bunk, knowing Peter would need the bottom with his cast in the way.

But you didn’t even have both legs pulled in before he startled you by grabbing your ankle. “What?” You breathed in a whisper, not wishing to wake the others as you tried to look down at him in the dark. With the main lights off, there was only the faintest glow from small emergency type lights sparsely spaced along the walls.

Mostly you could just see the white of his teeth, knowing he was grinning back at you. In this moment it reminded you only of the Cheshire cat, mischievous and a little disconcerting.

“There’s room down here, goofball,” He whispered back.

“Peter,” You answered, the tone saying far more than the short response. You weren’t alone here, and it, well it just didn’t seem proper. With the immediate threat of death now finally passed (hopefully), it really felt more like being back at school for the moment. There were standards of behavior and-

“If one of Hank can fit in these, then two of us definitely will.” He was clearly unfazed by your sudden reservations, though seemed to realize the cause pretty quickly. “Raven doesn’t care. Where do you think Scott and Jean ended up? You didn’t even notice did you?”

You could hear the bit of amusement in his voice. But no, you didn’t count heads as you were walking by. Why would you? If Scott and Jean had made it into the same bunk already, it wasn’t your business.

Which, yes, admittedly if you felt that way, would the others be as okay with it for you and Peter? He’d rightly guessed that it was more the fear of being judged that made you hesitate, than actually being uncomfortable sleeping beside him. You’d already slept side by side in the helicopter on the way here after all, but that wasn’t quite the same as being in the same bed.

“Still waiting,” He reminded, squeezing your ankle lightly.

You knew if you actually said no, he would drop it. It was only your indecision that he was waiting for you to resolve. But, how often would you have this chance again? Thinking of it in those terms, you relented at last, climbing back down.

You could still see his smile in the dark, no doubt excited over the small victory as he scooted back as much as he could to allow you in.

Trying to get into a comfortable position was a little awkward at first, especially with his cast. But you eventually ended up both laying on your sides, your back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around you under your shared blanket.

You were quickly learning how much he seemed to be comforted by physical contact. It wasn’t long at all before his breathing steadied out and you realized he was fast asleep, his head nuzzled into the back of your neck.

The feeling was warm and pleasant though. Yourself following suit not long after, sleeping deeply at last for a long deserved rest.

——————————

When morning finally came, there was no real way to know it. There were no windows to let in the daylight. By the time you’d woken to hear the others’ voices and the fluorescent lighting buzzing back on when one of them hit the switch, you’d learned it was actually almost noon local time.

Which none of you were complaining about. But you were hungry now. Sleep had been the primary physical need beforehand, and with that now met, you needed some more calories to burn.

Peter especially. You could actually hear his stomach growling as you’d all gotten up and headed into the common bathroom to brush teeth, brush hair and the like with the standard toiletries they’d left in there for everyone.

“Yeah, I’m like a hummingbird basically,” He’d explained nonchalantly on your walk to the mess hall afterward. “I just haven’t fallen out yet here because I haven’t gotten to run since dickhead busted my leg. But normally yeah, high octane all the time to keep things going. My blood sugar tanks if I don’t keep snacking at least. Twinkies are a personal fave in the old survival kit.”

“Those are good,” Kurt agreed. “I like the little pies too,” He gestured a circle shape with his hands, “With the little...the dried purple fruit, what are those in English?”

“Raisins, my bro.” Peter responded. “Old raisin creme pie. I swap back and forth on those. Oatmeal pies are alright too, but you know where it’s really at is zebra cakes, man.”

“Zebra...cake?” Clearly Kurt was trying to envision in his head how a zebra would have anything to do with the naming of a cake.

“It’s got white icing with brown stripes,” You answered. You weren’t super into junk food, but you did grow up in the U.S., so a lot of this knowledge was entirely unavoidable.

“But zebras have black stripes?” Kurt replied with some bit of bemusement.

“I don’t think Little Debbie or Hostess are too concerned with accurate representations of wildlife.” Raven chimed in, halfway amused at the randomness of the topics you all came up with, but still looking quite unimpressed.

“They do have brown stripes when they’re juveniles, before they get their adult coat.” Hank corrected though, glancing down at her.

“So they should be called baby zebra cakes. Got it.” Scott finally piped up, though also clearly thinking this ridiculous.

Raven and Jean just exchanged a look of their own as Ororo glanced to you. “Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much,” You answered with a slight smile. It was good to see Peter meshing in so well with the others though, even if he was a little bit older. You hoped that whenever the school was rebuilt that he’d consider staying. Xavier always seemed to be able to make room for any young mutant willing to learn and also work as a mentor to the even younger kids.

You were all still chatting lightly as your group walked through the mess hall doors. But after being just the few of you for so many hours, it was a bit of a shock to see several tables worth of sailors look up at your sudden intrusion.

It was clear by the amount of still empty tables though, that this wasn’t near the normal occupancy rate. You remembered the Professor commenting that he thought a lot of the men had been forced to disembark to the mainland, just to make a larger bubble for you all.

And by all the expressions on the faces of those that were left, it seemed that most disagreed whole heartedly with that decision.

Your group quieted immediately, everyone picking up on those stares and the bit of whispering as you got in line together. The mess hall was set up cafeteria style, so you had to grab trays and slide them along, picking what you wanted as the kitchen staff would spoon out or serve whatever it was you’d chosen onto your tray.

“Maybe we should just take the food back to the barracks?” Kurt asked quietly, looking down with an evident bit of anxiety building.

“It’s okay,” Raven answered, “Just keep your head up. We won’t be long.”

You were conflicted though. You shouldn’t have to eat, segregated out of everyone else’s sight like some sort of criminals, just because your presence might offend someone. But then again, what purpose did it serve in the larger scheme of things if you antagonized these sailors into an avoidable confrontation right now?

As the Professor had said, tensions were already high. Throwing any spark into that powder keg couldn’t possibly end well.

Hank had volunteered to carry Peter’s tray for him, as Peter needed both hands to work his crutches. You were glad for that at least as you could only envision yourself dropping it all in spectacular fashion. Especially when Peter insisted on a triple portion of some kind of strawberry cake desert they’d had.

“I think we should go back to the bunks,” Jean spoke up though when you were all about to walk away from the line with your trays and drinks. “There’s one of them, he’s about to go off.”

You all paused, looking to Raven and Hank simultaneously, seemingly all deciding without speaking that they’d become the de facto leadership in the Professor’s absence.

“Fine,” Raven relented, obviously not wanting to roll over in this situation, but also remembering all you’d already been through recently. Just getting to eat in peace should be a reasonable thing to want.

But even turning the other cheek, didn’t seem to be enough.

“Hey!” One of the sailors called out before you could get close enough to the door.

“Keep walking.” Raven just directed.

“Do you even know what the rest of the world looks like right now!?” He kept on, standing up as his voice only grew louder. “My Mom and my little brother were in San Francisco. Their goddamn apartment building collapsed!”

Peter was the first one to stop, looking back then.

You could hear the tone in the man’s voice change though, and in that moment you knew he was not going to attack anyone. But it almost made it worse that he didn’t as his voice broke, nearly pleading to you all. “I don’t even know if they’re alive, if they made it out or not. The phones won’t work...no one can get through.”

“We didn’t do that,” Raven spoke up as calmly as she could, looking back to him as well then. “I’m sorry.”

“But you know who did, don’t you!?” He countered. “It was him. Wasn’t it? The one from Washington D.C. that could move metal. And he got away. You let him get away!”

The men next to the sailor were trying to pull him back down to sitting now, trying to remind him something about orders, making you realize they must have been given a similar talk as you all had. Don’t cause trouble, don’t antagonize, keep the peace because you’d been told to.

Even with two food trays in hand, Hank was now trying to usher you all through the mess hall doors just as intently as the man’s friends were trying to make him stop as well.

But Peter just twisted right out of Hank’s reach in a blur, calling back suddenly then. “It was Magneto. I’m sure it was. But he’s gone, man. He ran.” Peter looked pained, but shook his head. “His family was killed...but that doesn’t mean he had any right to take it out on the world. I hope you find your family. I really do, and I’m sorry.”

With that Peter shoved through the doors, going on ahead of you all and not looking back. His frustration was palpable as the crutches limited him. If his leg hadn’t been broken you doubted any of you would have seen him leave at all. Like he too wanted to run away now, instead of having to face the painful reality that this was.

——————————

Nothing was said about the incident for quite some time as you’d all eaten quietly in the barracks. The food was plain, the simple kinds of things that could be made in bulk to feed a large crew on a ship like this. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, rice, and the like.

You were sitting on the floor eating while Peter was sitting on his bottom bunk, now just picking at the strawberry cake he’d most wanted with a fork. “This was definitely some pre-made frozen crap they just defrosted and put whip cream on.” He commented in dry disappointment.

“Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to keep fresh strawberries for long on a boat,” You replied, sipping one of the soft drinks you’d brought back. At least these were canned to still be carbonated well, but it wasn’t all that cold anymore.

He smirked. “I’d go crazy living on this thing out at sea. Not too many steps up from a prison cell really.”

Though you could imagine submarine life would be even worse, you didn’t think he was far off base. “It takes a special kind of person to enlist that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, going back to silence for a while as he dissected the cake idly.

You’d about finished all your food before he spoke to you again.

“What do you really think of him, (Y/N)?” Peter asked you in a somber tone then. “I mean, am I an idiot for trying to get to know him? My whole life I thought about what it would have been like if we’d had a real dad. If it wasn’t just Mom stressed the hell out all the time trying to keep us from getting evicted, or me from getting arrested honestly, or her worrying about Wanda being depressed so much. It’s like we were always broken. I had this idea if we’d just had that missing piece of a father, that everything would have been fixed. But then I finally meet him, finally find out who he really is, and he’s just as fucked up as anyone.”

You moved your tray to the side, considering your words carefully as you got up to go sit beside Peter on the edge of the bed. “You’re not an idiot.” That was the easiest point to make first. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know who your parents are.” But the rest, that was muddled and complicated.

“I mean, that was the first time I’ve actually ever met him in person. So I only know the stories really.” You continued. “I know the Professor thinks highly of him. They’ve always been close.”

“Xavier punched my dad right in the damn face the first time I saw them together.” Peter responded, turning his head to look at you directly. “Knocked him on his ass actually.”

You blinked. “Um, well...I have heard their relationship has had its rough patches too. They disagree on a lot of things as well. But they always seem to care about each other in the end, when it’s all said and done.”

Peter laid the last of the cake back down on the floor, before laying back down behind you in the bunk. “So you’re saying that’s what I have to look forward to? Alternating between wanting to kick his ass, and wanting him to stick around and have a relationship together?”

You could only be honest. “Not really what I was going for, but, I mean, that’s kind of Erik right?”

“But he’s killed people hasn’t he? How do I get past that?”

That was really the hardest question of all, wasn’t it? And now the one probably weighing on Peter’s mind the most after the interaction with that upset sailor in the mess hall.

“His sins aren’t your sins, Peter.” Was what you finally said, sighing and looking at your hands now in your lap. “Erik has lost so much too. His parents, your grandparents, I know they died at Auschwitz. The Professor told us that. And they experimented on Erik, tortured him to try and use his powers as a weapon. Erik ended up killing the man most responsible for that. But Xavier had tried to stop him anyway and ended up paralyzed for it. It was an accident though.”

You could feel Peter shift behind you, sitting up slightly in the bunk. It was most likely that he’d never heard any of this. You hated that it had to come secondhand from you. That you, this random mutant would know more about his own father’s history than himself.

But you continued. “And then what he told us in Egypt, about his wife and daughter....I mean, my God. Like you said, it doesn’t mean he can just go around hurting everyone else just because of what’s been done to him. But what would anyone else really do? How can we say where our own breaking points would be?” You weren’t trying to absolve him by any means, but how could you sit here and judge him either?

“Yeah,” Peter answered, sounding distant. “I mean, I tried not to think about it too much, everything was already so messed up. But I’ve got to tell Wanda all of this too at some point. And I don’t know how. We had a little sister, and she’s already gone. How do you...how do you even process that when you didn’t even get to meet them? How do you get closure?”

You heard him moving around like he was wiping at his face with his hands. You didn’t think he was crying, but maybe his eyes were trying to build up something that he wasn’t willing to allow yet.

“Can we just lay here for a bit?” He asked you after another moment.

“Sure,” You answered, laying back down in the bunk with him. This time you didn’t care if the others would pay any mind or not. He needed someone right now.

You were just laying the same way you’d slept last night with your back to his chest. But after a while you felt him tug at your side.

“Turn around,” He asked.

You did hesitate momentarily, knowing how much more personal that would be in the confines of the small bunk. But you allowed it, rolling over so that now you were nearly face to face, torsos touching as he wrapped his good leg over you before pulling up the blanket.

“Hey,” He smirked, seeming to cheer up at your awkward look. Your stomach flipped as you thought he was going in for a kiss, but he just ended up kissing your forehead once before pulling back.

Whatever expression you made then got a real laugh out of him.

“I was just going to tell you thank you.” He said teasingly, before leaning back in to whisper in your ear, “But you look kind of disappointed...did you want a little more?”

There was no question you were fully flustered now as you felt that heat rising in your face yet again. You’d have to make a mental note to apologize to Jean later if she was getting any of this broadcast to her. But then again, she did live in a house full of teenagers doing God knows what at any given time. Maybe she was already used to it. But you didn’t even want to think about Xavier possibly picking up on your current emotional panic either, that would be mortifying.

Sensing your spiraling distraction, Peter lightly touched one fingertip to the end of your nose. “Boop. Earth to (Y/N), have we lost signal? Overheated the engines already?”

You blinked. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it’s hilarious. And still waiting, dear. Always waiting...”

To be honest, when you finally kissed him, it was more just to wipe that smug look off his face. But on second thought, maybe that had been his plan all along. To taunt you into action. But it worked. It worked extremely well, as you’d both closed your eyes. His hand pressed into your back, making sure you stayed tight against him as you’d let it happen again and again. One kiss after another.

It’d been different too. The first ones back in Cairo had been so desperate more than anything, just a burst of emotion like a dying wish when neither of you had really expected to make it out of that desert.

While this now was far slower, much more thought behind each. It did make you forget everything else for those moments except the taste and feel of him.

But as much as you liked the sensations, you also knew you had to be the one to steer you both back out of it. When you felt his hand starting to move under your shirt, sliding up greedily across your bare skin, you realized he was already wanting more. And this wasn’t the place, not the time. Not yet at least. You weren’t immune to those feelings either, but it’d be much better if you waited. As much as you knew he hated waiting...

You’d pulled your lips away, but he then only moved to kissing your neck instead as you had to speak his name to try and call him back out of it. “Peter.”

“Mmm?” He responded after a moment, at least pausing, even though his lips were still touching against your throat.

You tugged his hair a little to try and get him to look back up at you.

He resisted slightly, not a lot, but you knew he was stalling as best he could before he finally relented. “Stop sign comes out huh?” He breathed, though not upset, just clearly having trouble coming out of the mood as his hand slid back out of your shirt to rest only on top of your clothes.

“Not exactly enough privacy here,” you responded quietly. Which was of course a huge understatement as the others were probably just out of earshot right now. If you were lucky anyway.

“It’s a big ship, babe. I’m sure we can find a place,” He joked, but only partially you were sure. As you really thought if you said the word right now, he’d make it his mission to find such a place immediately.

You toyed with his hair a little more, moving the messy silver strands out away from his eyes. “I think it’s getting to be pretty inevitable if you really want to know the truth.”

He leaned into the touch, just kissing your hand once more as your palm neared too close to his mouth. “You make it really tough either way, I’ll say that.”

You knew better than to lecture this one on the virtue of patience. But this was already the most physical you’d ever been with anyone as it was, and all so soon. Yet you knew it was only a matter of time. These new feelings were only growing. None of this would be fading any time soon.

You just laid your head back on his shoulder after a while, speaking to him, “Hey, after we’ve cooled down a bit more here, you want to see if anyone will allow us on the flight deck? It’d be nice to see the ocean at least before the sun goes back down. Get some fresh air.”

“Romantic stroll in the ocean breeze you say? Well maybe more a romantic hobble for me.” He chuckled dryly. “I’m game.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

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route22ny · 3 years

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By CALVIN WOODWARD, ELLEN KNICKMEYER and DAVID RISING

September 10, 2021 GMT

In the ghastly rubble of ground zero’s fallen towers 20 years ago, Hour Zero arrived, a chance to start anew.

World affairs reordered abruptly on that morning of blue skies, black ash, fire and death.

In Iran, chants of “death to America” quickly gave way to candlelight vigils to mourn the American dead. Vladimir Putin weighed in with substantive help as the U.S. prepared to go to war in Russia’s region of influence.

Libya’s Moammar Gadhafi, a murderous dictator with a poetic streak, spoke of the “human duty” to be with Americans after “these horrifying and awesome events, which are bound to awaken human conscience.”

From the first terrible moments, America’s longstanding allies were joined by longtime enemies in that singularly galvanizing instant. No nation with global standing was cheering the stateless terrorists vowing to conquer capitalism and democracy. How rare is that?

Too rare to last, it turned out.

___

Civilizations have their allegories for rebirth in times of devastation. A global favorite is that of the phoenix, a magical and magnificent bird, rising from ashes. In the hellscape of Germany at the end of World War II, it was the concept of Hour Zero, or Stunde Null, that offered the opportunity to start anew.

For the U.S., the zero hour of Sept. 11, 2001, meant a chance to reshape its place in the post-Cold War world from a high perch of influence and goodwill as it entered the new millennium. This was only a decade after the collapse of the Soviet Union left America with both the moral authority and the financial and military muscle to be unquestionably the lone superpower.

Those advantages were soon squandered. Instead of a new order, 9/11 fueled 20 years of war abroad. In the U.S., it gave rise to the angry, aggrieved, self-proclaimed patriot, and heightened surveillance and suspicion in the name of common defense.

It opened an era of deference to the armed forces as lawmakers pulled back on oversight and let presidents give primacy to the military over law enforcement in the fight against terrorism. And it sparked anti-immigrant sentiment, primarily directed at Muslim countries, that lingers today.

A war of necessity — in the eyes of most of the world — in Afghanistan was followed two years later by a war of choice as the U.S. invaded Iraq on false claims that Saddam Hussein was hiding weapons of mass destruction. President George W. Bush labeled Iran, Iraq and North Korea an “axis of evil.”

Thus opened the deep, deadly mineshaft of “forever wars.” There were convulsions throughout the Middle East, and U.S. foreign policy — for half a century a force for ballast — instead gave way to a head-snapping change in approaches in foreign policy from Bush to Obama to Trump. With that came waning trust in America’s leadership and reliability.

Other parts of the world were not immune. Far-right populist movements coursed through Europe. Britain voted to break away from the European Union. And China steadily ascended in the global pecking order.

President Joe Biden is trying to restore trust in the belief of a steady hand from the U.S. but there is no easy path. He is ending war, but what comes next?

In Afghanistan in August, the Taliban seized control with menacing swiftness as the Afghan government and security forces that the United States and its allies had spent two decades trying to build collapsed. No steady hand was evident from the U.S. in the harried, disorganized evacuation of Afghans desperately trying to flee the country in the first weeks of the Taliban’s re-established rule.

Allies whose troops had fought and died in the U.S-led war in Afghanistan expressed dismay at Biden’s management of the U.S. withdrawal, under a deal President Donald Trump had struck with the Taliban.

THE ‘HOMELAND’

In the United States, the Sept. 11 attacks set loose a torrent of rage.

In shock from the assault, a swath of American society embraced the us vs. them binary outlook articulated by Bush — “Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists” — and has never let go of it.

You could hear it in the country songs and talk radio, and during presidential campaigns, offering the balm of a bloodlust cry for revenge. “We’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way,” Toby Keith promised America’s enemies in one of the most popular of those songs in 2002.

Americans stuck flags in yards and on the back of trucks. Factionalism hardened inside America, in school board fights, on Facebook posts, and in national politics, so that opposing views were treated as propaganda from mortal enemies. The concept of enemy also evolved, from not simply the terrorist but also to the immigrant, or the conflation of the terrorist as immigrant trying to cross the border.

The patriot under threat became a personal and political identity in the United States. Fifteen years later, Trump harnessed it to help him win the presidency.

THE OTHERING

In the week after the attacks, Bush demanded of Americans that they know “Islam is peace” and that the attacks were a perversion of that religion. He told the country that American Muslims are us, not them, even as mosques came under surveillance and Arabs coming to the U.S. to take their kids to Disneyland or go to school risked being detained for questioning.

For Trump, in contrast, everything was always about them, the outsiders.

In the birther lie Trump promoted before his presidency, Barack Obama was an outsider. In Trump’s campaigns and administration, Muslims and immigrants were outsiders. The “China virus” was a foreign interloper, too.

Overseas, deadly attacks by Islamic extremists, like the 2004 bombing of Madrid trains that killed nearly 200 people and the 2005 attack on London’s transportation system that killed more than 50, hardened attitudes in Europe as well.

By 2015, as the Islamic State group captured wide areas of Iraq and pushed deep into Syria, the number of refugees increased dramatically, with more than 1 million migrants, primarily from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq, entering Europe that year alone.

The year was bracketed by attacks in France on the Charlie Hebdo magazine staff in January after it published cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, and on the Bataclan theater and other Paris locations in November, reinforcing the angst then gripping the continent.

Already growing in support, far-right parties were able to capitalize on the fears to establish themselves as part of the European mainstream. They remain represented in many European parliaments, even as the flow of immigrants has slowed dramatically and most concerns have proved unfounded.

THE UNRAVELING

Dozens of countries joined or endorsed the NATO coalition fighting in Afghanistan. Russia acquiesced to NATO troops in Central Asia for the first time and provided logistical support. Never before had NATO invoked Article 5 of its charter that an attack against one member was an attack against all.

But in 2003, the U.S. and Britain were practically alone in prosecuting the Iraq war. This time, millions worldwide marched in protest in the run-up to the invasion. World opinion of the United States turned sharply negative.

In June 2003, after the invasion had swiftly ousted Saddam and dismantled the Iraqi army and security forces, a Pew Research poll found a widening rift between Americans and Western Europeans and reported that “the bottom has fallen out of support for America in most of the Muslim world.” Most South Koreans, half of Brazilians and plenty more people outside the Islamic world agreed.

And this was when the war was going well, before the world saw cruel images from Abu Ghraib prison, learned all that it knows now about CIA black op sites, waterboarding, years of Guantanamo Bay detention without charges or trials — and before the rise of the brutal Islamic State.

By 2007, when the U.S. set up the Africa Command to counter terrorism and the rising influence of China and Russia on the continent, African countries did not want to host it. It operates from Stuttgart, Germany.

THE SUCCESSES

Over the two decades, a succession of U.S. presidents scored important achievements in shoring up security, and so far U.S. territory has remained safe from more international terrorism anywhere on the scale of 9/11.

Globally, U.S.-led forces weakened al-Qaida, which has failed to launch a major attack on the West since 2005. The Iraq invasion rid that country and region of a murderous dictator in Saddam.

Yet strategically, eliminating him did just what Arab leaders warned Bush it would do: It strengthened Saddam’s main rival, Iran, threatening U.S. objectives and partners.

Deadly chaos soon followed in Iraq. The Bush administration, in its nation-building haste, failed to plan for keeping order, leaving Islamist extremists and rival militias to fight for dominance in the security vacuum.

The overthrow of Saddam served both to inspire and limit public support for Arab Spring uprisings a few years later. For if the U.S. showed people in the Middle East that strongmen can be toppled, the insurgency demonstrated that what comes next may not be a season of renewal.

Authoritarian regimes in the Middle East pointed to the post-Saddam era as an argument for their own survival.

The U.S.-led wars in Afghanistan and Iraq killed more than 7,000 American military men and women, more than 1,000 from the allied forces, many tens of thousands of members of Afghan and Iraqi security forces, and many hundreds of thousands of civilians, according to Brown University’s Costs of War project. Costs, including tending the wars’ unusually high number of disabled vets, are expected to top $6 trillion.

For the U.S., the presidencies since Bush’s wars have been marked by an effort — not always consistent, not always successful — to pull back the military from the conflicts of the Middle East and Central Asia.

The perception of a U.S. retreat has allowed Russia and China to gain influence in the regions, and left U.S. allies struggling to understand Washington’s place in the world. The notion that 9/11 would create an enduring unity of interest to combat terrorism collided with rising nationalism and a U.S. president, Trump, who spoke disdainfully of the NATO allies that in 2001 had rallied to America’s cause.

Even before Trump, Obama surprised allies and enemies alike when he stepped back abruptly from the U.S. role of world cop. Obama geared up for, then called off, a strike on Syrian President Bashar Assad for using chemical weapons against his people.

“Terrible things happen across the globe, and it is beyond our means to right every wrong,” Obama said on Sept. 11, 2013.

THE NEWISH ORDER

The legacies of 9/11 ripple both in obvious and unusual ways.

Most directly, millions of people in the U.S. and Europe go about their public business under the constant gaze of security cameras while other surveillance tools scoop up private communications. The government layered post-9/11 bureaucracies on to law enforcement to support the expansive security apparatus.

Militarization is more evident now, from large cities to small towns that now own military vehicles and weapons that seem well out of proportion to any terrorist threat. Government offices have become fortifications and airports a security maze.

But as profound an event as 9/11 was, its immediate effect on how the world has been ordered was temporary and largely undone by domestic political forces, a global economic downturn and now a lethal pandemic.

The awakening of human conscience predicted by Gadhafi didn’t last. Gadhafi didn’t last.

Osama bin Laden has been dead for a decade. Saddam was hanged in 2006. The forever wars — the Afghanistan one being the longest in U.S. history — now are over or ending. The days of Russia tactically enabling the U.S., and China not standing in the way, petered out. Only the phoenix lasts.

___

Rising reported from Bangkok; Knickmeyer and Woodward from Washington. AP National Security Writer Robert Burns contributed to this report.

https://apnews.com/article/911-20-years-world-affairs-cc497f11743fcbd48b0b3e0c3ed2da5f

#vladimir putin #two decades after 9/11 #new world order #historical turning point

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restlessfandoming · 3 years

Text

“bloodlust” (childehood: tartaglia’s origins—a oneshot about childe’s past)

[SLIGHT SPOILERS FROM 1.1 STORY QUESTS]

so. those story quests completely revamped my psychology of childe.

before i can return to writing chilumi, i gotta process that. welcome to my mind trying to process what made him so. . .bloodthirsty. . .

here’s my take on why hes like. . .that.

[Fic Masterlist]

TW: violence. blood. death. it’s some dark shit y’all.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A snowflake landed on a little boy’s eyelid, and he jolted awake, muscles tensed to strike. His ice blue eyes darted around the alleyway. Another flurry landed on his cheek.

“Just the snow,” he muttered. Beside him, his siblings snored on. Anthon, Tonia, Teucer. He counted the brownish-ginger heads quietly. Good, they’re all still here and accounted for.

His name was Tartaglia, oldest of the four children—and as the oldest, he was their caretaker, their guardian.

It had been months since their parents were taken from them. A once wealthy and whole family, fractured by a robbery gone wrong.

Greed. He thought angrily, gripping a single Mora, its edges digging into his skin. The greed of man took his parents from him.

Tartaglia vividly remembered the violent clashing of weapons, running down the stairs of his bedroom, seeing his mother and father trying to fight off groups of masked men. They screamed, desperately, for him to run—run as far as he could—and to take his little brothers and sister with him.

As they were yelling at him, one of the masked men swung his axe. They saw it too late.

It slashed through both his parents, and with wide eyes, Tartaglia watched as the blood spewed from their guts. He thought he felt some droplets hit his face, like the mist from the spray of a crimson ocean.

His parents crumpled, lying lifelessly on the floor, their insides spilling out in a pool around them.

Red. That’s all he could see.

Red. And he knew his parents were gone, forever.

Red. He couldn’t save them.

The men turned towards him. And he ran, faster than he had in his entire little life. He gathered his siblings—Anthon groggily rubbing his eyes, Tonia shivering, and baby Teucer crying—and dragged them through the cold, cold snow, away from their warm home. They trudged through the thick blanket of snow; Tonia was certain their feet were going to fall off.

But they never looked back—Tartaglia didn’t let them.

He told them their parents went away in the night. Travelling abroad, he said; it was so sudden, an emergency, they couldn’t take any of them. Anthon was angry, Tonia started crying—fat sobs with rivers of tears—and Teucer just kept wailing and wailing.

That night was the first night Tartaglia stole. He broke into a clothing shop, grabbing all he could to protect him and his siblings against the harsh Snezhnayan winter.

He learned to steal, to fight, to survive for him and his siblings. But he would never let them see. He would tell them to wait for him in an alleyway, in the woods, somewhere far where they wouldn’t see him doing what he needed to do. He would do the crime, wipe away the sin, and return to his family, an aloof smile plastered on his face.

After witnessing what happened to their parents, he vowed to never let them see bloodshed. No, they wouldn’t see the violent language between adults in this cruel, unforgiving world. They would believe in fairytales, gods, and the good of people.

Only he, Tartaglia, would have the burden of blood on his hands.

………………….

Late one night, Tartaglia slinked around the alleyways, searching for another store to break into. He realized that they couldn’t live on the streets forever, and to get a home, one needed Mora. No longer was he stealing just food and clothing; he stole any Mora he could come across.

Mora...tiny golden circles that make the world go ‘round. The aftertaste of greed was bitter. But he needed the money. For Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

He repeated their names, over and over, as he broke off the latch of a store. As he stepped into the place, his nose filled with the scent of raw meat. A butcher’s…

He headed towards the back, where most shopkeepers kept their Mora. After searching through several boxes, he came across a metal container. Jackpot.

He picked it up, tossing it in his bag, hearing the clinks of coins within. He walked past the rows of boar carcasses strung up, actively trying to ignore the steady drips of blood cascading off them. The tinge of iron in the air put him on edge, his nerves jittery.

Before he left, he paused, staring at the butcher’s knife hanging on the wall. He stood on his tip toes, grabbing it off its rack, and weighing it in his hands. Just in case… He took one more look around the shop, then headed out.

“So this is the little thief running around Snezhnaya.”

Tartaglia froze, and turned to face the gruff voice. Standing there were three men, all holding various weapons.

“It’s just a kid,” one of them said, lowering his club.

The one in front glared at him. “Doesn’t matter,” he sneered, brandishing his dagger. “It’s well-known that someone has been stealing from all the stores around here. And we gotta teach ‘em a lesson.”

The third one, a large brute with an axe, nodded silently.

Tartaglia quickly assessed around him. He was against a wall, and the three men were blocking the only exit out of the alleyway. The walls were too steep and unclimbable. Do I just try to dash through them? No, if he tried, they would easily grab him.

He gripped the butcher’s knife, raising it. Only one option left.

The leader laughed maniacally. “What? You’re gonna try to fight us with that?” He mockingly held his hands up. “Tell you what, kid, you give us back all you’ve stolen, and we’ll let you off with only one finger missing—deal?”

“C’mon, man. He’s a kid. Probably doesn’t know better,” the club man interjected again.

“So what? We normally dispose of thieves; I’d say the kid is getting it way too easy.”

“Let’s just kill him,” the axe man spoke finally, his voice stoic. “He probably doesn’t have any family looking after him anyways.”

Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

I will protect them no matter what.

“Then come at me,” Tartaglia growled, his childlike voice sounding impossibly dark.

The leader smirked. “Okay.”

He lept towards Tartaglia, dagger forward, ready to slash his face. The boy raised his own knife up, catching the edge of the incoming dagger, sending it sliding away from his face. The man’s body followed through with the dagger’s swing, throwing him off balance for a second. And a second was all Tartaglia needed.

He brought the knife up, and swung down with all his might on the man’s shoulder.

The sharpened butcher’s knife carved through the man’s jacket, slicing deeply into the tendon between his shoulder and neck. The man grotesquely cried out in pain, falling to the ground, gripping his arm.

Tartaglia watched the blood spew from the chasm in the man’s shoulder. It ran down to the snow covered ground, staining the clean white snow with red, flowing like water. Weak.

His nerves now seemed to calm at the sight of his defeated opponent in front of him. How odd.

“Shit!” the club man yelled. He raised his weapon. “What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

Tartaglia tossed the clunky butcher’s knife aside, picking up the dagger from the floor as its original owner began passing out in a puddle of his own blood. It felt a lot better in his hands than the knife.

“Just kill him.” Axe man started charging towards Tartaglia, his axe held in front of him, attempting to ram the boy into the wall.

Too slow. Tartaglia’s small, lithe form easily jumped over the axe. He ran up the handle, ready to stab the man in his face.

Axe man was faster than expected. He grabbed the child’s neck, holding him at a distance.

Tartaglia gasped for air, the man’s brute force slowly crushing his windpipe.

“You’re fast, but you’re not strong enough,” he said.

Not...strong...enough… The boy desperately tried slashing at the man’s arms and hands, but the dagger’s wounds were mere scrapes to him.

As the air trickled from his lungs, the edges of his vision filled with red.

Red. That’s all he could see.

Red. He was about to be gone, forever.

Red. He had to save his siblings.

With one last gasp of air, he threw all his strength into a final stab at the axe man’s arms.

The dagger sank into flesh, and light erupted around Tartaglia. Miraculously, he was released from the death grip, and fell to the floor, coughing desperately.

When his sight returned, there was something blue glowing in the snow. He crawled towards it, scooping it up in his hands.

A relic with a iridescent blue gemstone in the middle. The symbol of the Hydro element engraved on the surface. It was a vision.

He had only heard of these through fairytales and talk in the streets. Power granted to mortals from a god. And now? It was granted to him.

He felt renewed energy surge through his body. He looked up at the night sky. Thank you.

“Die!” Both the remaining men were charging towards him. He pocketed the vision.

Feeling a weight in his hands, he held them out. Before his eyes, water shifted, forming a spear in front of him.

He readied his weapon, and as the men descended on him, he heard the WHOOSH of rushing water. He slashed one-Two-THREE times.

The men dropped to the floor with a thud.

Tartaglia’s weapon vanished. And the energy from his body expelled. He dropped to his knees, exhausted, then passed out in the snow.

When he awoke, he was still surrounded by the bodies.

He knew he had been gone for a long time, longer than usual; his siblings were probably worried about where he was. He quickly left the scene, running back to the woods where he, Anthon, Tonia, and Teucer were staying currently.

And as always, he washed away the blood, and replaced it with a smile.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Years later, he was still fighting, becoming stronger and stronger—becoming an infamously feared figure in Snezhnaya.

He remembered the day the Tsaritsa approached him.

Hearing his name being whispered around the land, she knew she had to seek him out. She wanted him to join her elite force: the Fatui Harbingers.

She promised him all the riches he could imagine, enough riches for him and his siblings ten times over. That was enough to make him agree.

For Anthon. Tonia. Teucer.

Secretly, he was excited as well. Something within him relished at the fact he was now a part of his country’s most powerful soldiers.

Because he remembered that day, the first day he took the lives of men—took their lives just like how his parents’ lives were taken from him. Except no longer would he be unable to move as blood was spilt.

He remembered looking at the men’s dead bodies. All cut open. All flowing with that red, red blood.

Because of him.

Because he was strong enough.

He smiled.

#genshin impact #genshin childe #childe #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia #fanfic #me

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whumperscorner · 3 years

Note

"Hand Gagging " for the bthb please :D

Here you go! Sorry it took some time :3 it ended up slightly longer than I had planned eheh

This is the first time I’ve written and posted any ffxv stuff (even though it is one of my longest whump fandoms eheh) so please be kind :>

BTHB#2- Hand Gagging

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 1950

Warnings: kidnapping

It’s already dark when Prompto steps out into the crisp evening air, waves one last goodbye to his friends and begins on the walk home. Gladio had offered to follow him part of the way, but Prompto had said no. He knows the way well, and it’s not too far. Besides, he really doesn’t mind walking on his own like this. He quietly hums along to a song he doesn’t remember the name of, one Iggy had put on earlier that evening, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He’d better give Cor a head’s up that he’s coming home soon.

*Omw home now.* He sends the message, puts the phone back in his pocket and blows a breath of warm air on his hands before stuffing them too into his pockets. He should’ve brought a pair of gloves, Prompto thinks as he absentmindedly crosses the street by a corner. One lone car passes slowly behind him when the phone buzzes. Prompto takes it out and the screen lights up with the new message from ‘Dad’.

*Fun evening? Eaten anything yet?*

*Yeah! And no, we sort of forgot.* That isn’t entirely true. Ignis had made valiant attempts at getting them to eat something substantial all evening, but he and Noct had been busy with Noct’s new game. Which Prompto had beaten him at fair and square, no matter what the prince would say to that. The two hadn’t really had time to focus on eating.

*There’s leftover thai, want me to heat it up for you?* Comes the answer from Cor, faster now than last time.

*Oh yeah thanks!* Thai sounds delicious right about now, and the thought makes his stomach rumble.

Prompto’s legs have been moving on autopilot up to this point, but now he glances up from the phone at his surroundings. Aside from one lone car at the end of the street, he’s the only one around. Prompto’s eyes land on a familiar old sign shaped like a pretzel and he sends another quick message to his dad.

*I’m by the old baker’s now, so I’ll be home in 10.*

*Great, see you then.*

*Yeah, see you later!*

After the exchange Prompto again stuffs the phone and his hands back in the warm pockets on his jacket. He looks quickly to both sides before crossing the road again, and well over on the other side he turns right. There’s a shortcut a bit further down that he plans on taking. Behind him, a lone car starts moving slowly in the same direction he’s going. But Prompto doesn’t notice it. His head is full of longing thoughts of warm thai food, and the song that he still doesn’t remember the name of.

He keeps walking for another few minutes, where the most interesting thing to happen is a squirrel jump-scaring him by running across the road up ahead. Then, the phone in his pocket buzzes and lights up to show a message from Noct. It’s a shot of the tv screen and the prince’s new game, with a new personal best he’s showing off. Prompto snickers and writes out the reply.

*Oh shit, didn’t know specs knew how to play that. He’s really good!*

*Screw you xD* comes the answer.

The two bicker back and forth for a good while, and Prompto vows to beat him again soon enough, which Noct does not believe he can do. Prompto smiles at the screen, letting his legs carry him absentmindedly along, he knows he can. He beats Noct fairly often, and not that he would brag or anything, but he’s pretty good when it comes to games.

Had Prompto been less distracted he would have no doubt realised something was off. He would have easily noticed the car, which has been following him down two and a half streets already. Never too far behind, but never passing him either. But Prompto hums and types excitedly as he walks along. It doesn’t occur to him to check, and why would it? He walks this way home all the time, and nothing bad has ever happened before.

Reaching the sharp left turn, Prompto begins on the way down the alley he knows will cut at least four minutes off of his normal walk. He gets a glimpse of the car when he rounds the corner, but it’s out of his line of sight soon enough. The alleyway here is narrower than the previous road, and darker too, but that doesn’t scare Prompto. Though something about that car does feel off to him. It feels familiar and gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu. Prompto makes a valiant effort to shake the feelings of unease now creeping up in him, but it doesn’t take long before the sound of tires screeching to a halt stops him in his tracks. He swirls around and scans the entrance to the alley, but no car is visible there. Still, his stomach twists uncomfortably, and he finds himself regretting that he passed up the offer from Gladio to walk with him.

A growing sense of foreboding dread settles in his stomach as Prompto slowly turns back around and keeps walking. He must be imagining things, he’s almost sure of it. Almost. The wind picks up, howling loudly in Prompto’s ears. The sound of it rustling the leaves on the ground could almost be mistaken for light footsteps. A chill runs up Prompto’s spine at the thought, but he doesn’t dare look back, instead upping his pace slightly. There’s probably nothing, says the rational part of his brain, but then again... How many times hasn’t Cor repeated that it’s better to trust your gut, and that if a situation feels off then it’s better to be safe than sorry? Well, it is better to be safe than sorry, Prompto decides and finds his dad’s number in the contact list. His finger is shaking slightly as it hovers over the call button, a combination of the cold and the nerves.

Just then, as he presses down on the button, something heavy collides with him from behind. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in a surprised shriek, but any sound is muffled by the big hand clamping over his mouth. Then he's yanked back, barely having time to register the screen on his phone changing to show the call trying to connect before it clatters down on the ground. Adrenaline and panic rushes in his ears and he struggles, instinctively twisting and squirming and trying to pull the person's arms off of him as he is dragged back. The haze of fear and confusion lifts for just long enough that Prompto's brain can finally catch up to what's actually happening, and it does in no way ease the panic. A muffled, terrified, squeal bubbles up in his throat and his struggling intensifies, limbs flailing as unknown hands grab around his face and chest. As if by a miracle his elbow connects with something soft and a pained groan sounds from behind, but if Prompto had any hope of that making things easier he was soon proven wrong. With a guttural curse the person behind changes direction, manhandling Prompto around so he almost loses his balance and pushing him up against the wall of the alleyway. A low whine, muffled by the hand, escapes as he pushes uselessly against the bricks in an attempt to give himself any leeway.

"Come quietly pretty boy, and you won't have to get hurt." A deep man’s voice hisses. The voice is low and dangerous, and the man’s breath is hot on Prompto's ear. It makes him shiver. He attempts to shake his head, to protest, he wants the man off of him. His fruitless struggling evidently makes the man laugh, a mocking bark of a sound comes from behind and then-

"-Prom? You there kid?" The call on his phone, now on the ground somewhere, has gone through. That’s Cor’s voice. Prompto recognises it instantly and relief floods through him. For a short moment both he and the man holding him stand completely still, then Prompto gathers himself and wrenches free of the grip. He gasps in a breath of fresh air.

"Dad! Da-" and the hand is back, clamping over his mouth again with bruising force and muffling the rest of his yelling.

"Prompto?! What's going on?" Cor's voice is louder as he presses on, more urgent. He can tell something is wrong, it's obvious in his voice, and the man holding Prompto curses loudly. Out of the corner of his eye Prompto sees another silhouetted person approaching. For one wonderful moment he thinks it might be someone coming to help, but it isn't. The other person strides forward, past Prompto and the man, and through Prompto's muffled yelling brings the heel of their boot down on the phone, hard. Once, then twice, until Cor's voice distorts and disappears and the broken screen flickers to black. With his dad's voice gone again Prompto feels more alone and hopeless than at any other point this evening, and fear grips his chest tight.

"Should teach Leonis to watch who he messes with." the silhouetted person turns back, and Prompto can see the sharp features of another man, mouth twisted in distain at Cor's name. He spits on the ground and starts walking again. "Let's move."

The man holding Prompto nods in response, and without warning manoeuvres him around to walk back towards the entrance to the alleyway. The sudden movement wakes Prompto from his petrified state, he stumbles, but is quick to regain his balance and plants his feet firmly on the ground. Cor knows something is going on. That means he'll come look for him, Prompto is sure of it. He can't let the men take him away before his dad comes for him. He bucks and twists in the man's grip with renewed energy, if he can only stall for long enough this will be fine. Cor will come and he will be fine. It's the only thing on Prompto's mind as the man holding him grunts in effort at keeping him subdued. A few feet up ahead, the commotion alerts the second assailant, who wastes no time rushing back towards the two.

"Stop fucking struggling." he almost spits the words as he comes closer, but Prompto meets his eyes defiantly. He doesn't intend on going along quietly, especially not when he knows Cor is coming. "Fine." the second man spits through grit teeth. Then, with no prior warning letting Prompto know to brace himself, a clenched first collides with his stomach. The impact knocks the air out of him, he cries out into the hand, and if it weren't for the man's tight grip he probably would have fallen. For a short dizzying moment he thinks he might puke, he tries to gasp, but with the hand still over his mouth it doesn't work. He's not getting enough air. Then they're on the move again, and Prompto has no choice but to follow suit. He's more carried than walked to the alley's entry, where the black car from before is parked just out of sight behind the corner. Prompto's heart sinks in his chest at the sight of it, and he tries one last time to pull the man's hands off of him. Some small part of him hopes that maybe if he can yell again now someone will hear and come help, but he's tired, and the hand won't budge anymore. He struggles still, of course, but his resisting doesn't help him as the men lock him up in the dark trunk of the car and drive off.

#bad things happen bingo #hand gagging #rasko's bthb #whump #my writing #ffxv #ffxv whump #Prompto Argentum whump #cor leonis #kidnapping #tw kidnapping #manhandling #bthb #hurt Prompto Argentum

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flamboyant-king · 3 years

Note

Any plans to continue the Leon and Jorge story? I was following it like a soap opera 👀

Oh shit that was just a gag! (A very...articulate gag) But if you wanna know, I did have plans to continue because I was writing like all these scripts and junk for future ideas and thumbnailing more “fake screenshots.”

But here’s the rundown:

-After where we left off, Takumi and Jeorge make it into the Dining Hall. They sit nearby Leon and Niles and it kinda pisses Leon off. Takumi is exasperated and asks out loud how the heck can an S-support just happen like that. Kravice and the Askr Trio jump into action and Kravice and Sharena perform a little skit explaining S-supports can just suddenly happen in a moment of great stress and bonding.

-Leon and Jeorge just side eye each other while Niles gets up to go lose his shit somewhere else.

-The whole thing with Leon and Jeorge (and Niles of course) is to try and just get Leon to open up to them. They may not be the “perfect guys” but they’re still friends, aren’t they? Jeorge keeps using “dates” to get to know Leon better. And Leon keeps reminding himself to keep distant.

-There’s a side story, but just as important, with Titania and Camus getting in a fight over their A-support. Years of support, but still no S-support. Takumi loses it and tells them “Just Support Divorce Already! This is why Jeorge stays at the Aether Resort!”

-Then there was a gag story to break all the “tension” with Kravice running around to find who his 3 Summoner supports would be.

-Leon confesses that he would absolutely stop hanging out with the archer gang if Valbar were ever summoned. Niles is genuinely offended.

-Titania starts considering who to have her next support with...someone with a horse...maybe Frederick...

-Kravice runs up to Jeorge to offer him one of the Summoner support rings, but considering Jeorge hates Kravice, he declines without a word.

-Takumi is still distraught over Jeorge having an S-support just out of nowhere, when Oboro from a different Askr delivers a message for Kravice. She tells Takumi not to worry about S-supports, they can be romantic or they can just be a strong bond, or just something for taxes. (thanks sue-me-wright)

-Taxumi....

-Jeorge enters the WHAC clubroom with Leon slapping Niles across the face and running past him. Niles sits down and takes a drink and tells Jeorge everything that was said. Jeorge just sighs and says he’ll talk to Leon.

-Kravice is wracking his brain over who would be the ideal people to Summoner support for battle benefits. Telling Alfonse that, with the support, the boost will make it easier for Krav not to do anything. Alfonse just walks away without a word.

-Titania and Camus are called into battle with a team makeup of Horse Emblem, and what a coincidence, it’s Titania surrounded by all the cavalrymen she was eyeing.

-Takumi goes to the Aether Resort Inn’s Bar and talks with Astram. Astram tells him about Midia and how they never got an S-support. They don’t need a ring to tell them they’re in love. Astram then says that they still plan to get married, but the rings won’t have a stupid letter on it, but probably a diamond that he’s trying to gather money up for in Askr. He also tells Takumi about Jeorge absolutely being the best man at the wedding.

-Jeorge finds Leon on the hilltop where A-supports sometimes occur, but also where Niles likes vibe. Jeorge and Leon have a heart to heart about past relationships and the risks of taking risks. “Wouldn’t you rather know what it’s like to be with that person and have that momentary bliss than going on with nothing but what ifs?” Jeorge points out that Leon knew exactly where Niles likes to hang out, so he does care. The two sit there until Leon works up the energy to apologize to Niles (and fixes his makeup). Before they leave, Leon tells Jeorge his favorite food, his favorite book, and the exact shade of lipgloss he wears. Jeorge tells him his favorite fruit, his favorite place to relax, and his brand of shampoo.

-We cut into the midst of battle, after Titania rallies all men, they all gallop into the offense. Camus stays near Titania and it dawns on her that he’s only staying by her because the support rings still have the boosts. She tries avoiding him and he notices. They argue while fending off enemy forces. “You’re only by my side because it’s what benefits you!” Turning around to shout at Camus leaves Titania wide open and an enemy takes the opportunity to strike. Camus rushes behind her to intervene and confesses, “Titania! I’ve come to realize something! I am much stronger when I’m with you! Not just in battle, but as a person!” Titania looks at him shocked. She feels the ring on her finger get warm. She looks down at the ring and watches as the “A” burns away and is replaced with an “S.” She feels stronger, so this is what having an S-support feels like. Camus doesn’t see the ring under his fatass Mickey Mouse gloves, but he feels the energy in him grow stronger as Titania approaches his side. They feel in sync like the fire has been rekindled. Let’s get those orbs.

-After running away and avoiding all the “villains” trying to possess Kravice’s summoner support, Kravice hides in his little office where the Askr trio are waiting. “Find anyone yet?” Anna asks already knowing the answer. “All the possible contenders for the support all hate me. I guess I’m just unsupportive or something.” Kravice pouts and goes to his summong chair(tm). Alfonse just comes out and says, “The answer has been in front of you this whole time.” Kravice is quiet looking across at the three of them. When it dawns on him, he puts all three rings in his hands and smiles without a word.

-In the end, Jeorge and Leon cut off the S-support seeing as the don’t need outside forces to tighten their friendship. “I’ll get you to fall for me naturally.” “And the same to you.” Niles then slaps both of their asses (and suddenly the three of them have S-support rings lol). Takumi is relieved to see the “divorce,” but remembers just because an S-support doesn’t need romance, romance doesn’t need an S-support either. So Takumi is going to keep his eye on Leon. Camus and Titania “renewed their vows” and break the news to Jeorge and Takumi. The two archer lads sigh in relief. Jeorge tells Takumi that maybe now he’ll start staying at the ModFam estate more often now that the tension has died down. Kravice and the trio perform another skit describing Summoner supports and the “camera” will fade away when Alfonse can’t improv correctly and they all just laugh. So there you go!

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reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

there’s no way (that it’s not going there)

for my love @sulkybbarnes on your very special day. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARA! my goodness, i’m so glad the universe created you. how lucky we all are that you exist! 💕💜

word count 3.6k || read on ao3

We just dance backwards into each other Trying to keep our feelings secretly covered You touched me and it's almost like we knew That there would be history

As he sits with Michelle inside the Ryders’ backyard, the heat of the late summer evening still kissing his skin, Carlos smiles in contentment at the sight of all his colleagues turned friends and even perfectly good strangers all bound by their shared love for Grace and Judd. It’s because of them that they’ve all gathered today, to celebrate the Ryders’ vow renewal. It’s the perfect atmosphere in every sense, one of joy and festivity.

A few feet away, the happy couple mingles with the small gathering of their family and closest friends. Grace’s melodic laughter soars a note or two higher than the jazz music playing. Judd’s arm is slinked around her waist and Carlos can only stand back and admire the ease to which they orbit around each other. This is what years worth of love looks like. Carlos knows it can’t always have been an easy road, that all marriages— all relationships for that matter— are never without their hardships. But if it leads to something even vaguely resembling this, Carlos wants it at whatever cost.

He’s always been a hopeless romantic, swept up in the belief that finding the right partner could be a salvation. It’s not a sentiment the men he’s seen care to ascribe to. The world of dating hasn’t always been kind to him with Carlos almost always chasing after people who proved themselves adverse to being caught.

He’s vowed to himself repeatedly that he won’t fall down that rabbithole again. But what he hadn’t accounted for was meeting TK Strand, a man that makes Carlos willing to make an exception. TK has only been a part of the fabric here in Austin for a few weeks but he’s already managed to work his way into Carlos’ heart and mind. He hasn’t been able to shake his thoughts about the firefighter since their night at the honky tonk. The attraction he had for TK was instantaneous out on their call earlier that night but it’d only strengthened as they danced later. Ever since, there’s been this energy between them that neither has addressed. But it exists as a third party, living in each stolen glance, each quick retort traded between them like currency.

He and TK have been at this for weeks on end, this constant back and forth where they say so much without actually saying anything at all.

That’s all it ever takes, just one look to light the match. It’s a wonder they haven’t both been consumed by the flames though Carlos would argue he’s been coming dangerously close these last few weeks. At first it was fun, a casual flirty game between the two of them but now Carlos has been getting restless.

He takes in the sight of TK standing with his father under the back awning. Carlos can’t stop himself from giving him a once over, eyes roaming from top to bottom shamelessly. It’s truly a pleasant view with TK dressed up for the ceremony and looking far too attractive than any man has the right to.

“Carlos, if you stare any harder you just might strain those pretty brown eyes for good,” Michelle teases, her hand cupping her chin as she rests her elbows on the table, following where his eyes linger.

Carlos sighs and ruffles his hair slightly, forcing himself to look away from TK and back at her.

“Is it really that obvious?”

Michelle snorts out a laugh, covering her mouth and laughing even harder as Carlos groans.

“Aw, come on, no, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh but my god, Carlos. Do you really think either of you have been subtle this whole time? Anyone that’s spent so much as ten seconds around you both since he blew into town could call it.”

Carlos lifts a brow. “So you see it from him too? It’s not just me, right?”

“Absolutely not. To be honest, I’m actually shocked you guys haven’t hooked up already. It’s long overdue, my friend.”

Carlos picks up his glass for something to do as he thinks it all over.

“I think I just want it to mean something. Maybe that’s dumb, I don’t know but I really like him and we’ve been...in this weird limbo with each other. I don’t know what his endgame is here.”

Michelle tilts her head to the side, casting her glance off Carlos over to TK once more. He’s still caught up in conversation with Captain Strand. The younger Strand must have said something hilarious because Owen cracks a hearty laugh.

“You could do the totally crazy thing of actually talking to him and finding out what his deal is. He seems really into you. He’s been staring at you all night when you aren’t looking and who could forget that night we all went out? I think you got him hooked pretty fast. Reel him in already.”

Carlos chuckles at the analogy but even he can admit Michelle makes an extremely valid point here. This hasn’t been all in his head. Even if they’ve both managed to successfully avoid talking about it, it’s clear that there is something that they’ve been eluding from the moment their paths crossed.

“Screw it. You’re right. I’m going for it.”

Before he can lose his nerve, Carlos sets his glass down and rises from his seat. He can feel the reassuring press of Michelle’s hand on his forearm just before he leaves the table and begins the short but daunting walk over to where TK is standing.

Captain Strand notices him approaching before TK does and the man makes a move that Carlos isn’t expecting. He locks eyes with Carlos and in that brief bit of contact, there’s recognition of some kind and Owen seemingly excuses himself from his son.

Owen walks towards him and gives a polite nod of his head. “Evening, Carlos,” he says as he passes, not slowing down at all and leaving a clear path to TK.

Carlos doesn’t have the time to mull over the implications of this gesture but he makes a mental note of it, marking it as something to investigate later. His main pursuit now is a particular firefighter who has been weighing so heavily in his thoughts for weeks now.

This unspoken thing between them needs to be addressed once and for all. TK looks far too good tonight for Carlos to keep this little game of cat and mouse going any longer. Coming on too strong has more or less always been his problem but this is something he desperately wants and Carlos knows he can’t hold back beyond tonight.

TK soon notices him and stays in place, a slow smile inching across his face. By the time Carlos nestles in beside him, it’s a full on grin. It’s so reminiscent of the first time they ever hung out outside of work. Then, much like now, they were surrounded by this crowd of coworkers and people he’ll more than likely never see again. But it’s all just background noise, so inconsequential in comparison to his primary focus right now.

“Hey,” Carlos greets. It isn’t exactly the smoothest or most captivating thing to say but it had been enough that night out the bar and Carlos is hoping that it’ll prove itself useful enough again now.

TK looks briefly at the party at large, eyes pulling away from the throng of people dancing to Carlos and Carlos’ sense of déjà vu threatens to overwhelm him for the briefest of moments. But he focuses up once more as TK looks at him fully, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

As always, the man’s expression is playful as ever, as if he knows something Carlos doesn’t. Carlos has no doubt that TK is taking a trip down memory lane right now, too. How they were always finding themselves in a scenario like this was beyond Carlos’ comprehension then but it hardly matters. It serves as the perfect ice breaker for them now, a nod to the night that truly set things in motion for them. It makes this feel like a full circle moment, as if everything over the last few weeks has been leading to this.

“Wanna dance?” Carlos asks, tipping his chin towards the other guests bopping to the music.

TK’s eyes roam over his frame but Carlos doesn’t waver or back down. It’s merely part of the script they’ve been reading off of for weeks now. He’s confident that TK will accept, just as he had that night at the bar. The only difference now is that TK’s display of reluctance isn’t him genuinely debating the merits of taking a chance and saying yes, at least Carlos hopes that is the case. They have enough history between them at this point that Carlos feels safe in guessing that they’ve moved beyond that. Now it’s simply banter, a call back to that night.

“Yeah,” TK says after a moment, his perfectly white teeth trapping his bottom lip.

Carlos doesn’t even attempt to downplay how much he notices this, his own lips parting slightly before he pulls his focus back to the task at hand.

Carlos leads them to the makeshift dance floor just as he had that night of the honky tonk. TK falls into step with him, the two dancing along to the uptempo number playing throughout the yard. It’s all too easy to tune everything and everyone else out as he feels both their guards lowering even further. TK is all smiles and it’s the most infectious thing ever.

They dance for a while together, their smiles growing bigger with each new song that plays. Carlos is breathless and yet he can’t seem to stop himself from moving. But a new song comes on, the opening tone far more subdued. Carlos looks to TK, his face covered with a slight sheen of sweat. It makes Carlos’ breath hitch and he can’t help but to want to keep going, even though this is a different terrain than they’ve been dabbling in thus far.

“Do you still want to—,” Carlos begins to ask but TK answers in actions, not words as he slips his arms up over Carlos’ shoulders and begins to sway to the music.

This part is the variable, the break from their usual bit. Instead of dancing around each other with no real contact, they’re now wrapped up closely with TK hugged to his frame, their bodies pressed together, enough for Carlos to feel the firmness of TK’s chest against his.

This feels right in a way that Carlos can’t even begin to put into words. He wonders if maybe everything feels heightened because of where they are and what they’re celebrating tonight. But that still doesn’t change what he’s experiencing now, the rush of having TK’s warm body in his arms, more alive than anything. Even though they’re now moving slower than they have all night, Carlos feels the most electric now. It only instills what Carlos has known all along. This is so much more than a crush, it always has been, but now it feels like a tangible thing, a very real possibility and a step up from the hypothetical.

TK peers up at him as they continue to rock gently and Carlos can feel the man’s breaths as they fan across his face like the gentlest, most subtle breeze. The longer Carlos stares back at him, the more he realizes how uneven TK’s breathing actually is, the way it stalls and starts. The only explanation is that TK is nervous. Carlos is well-versed in reading people. After all, he literally gets paid to assess situations. He’s seen countless people he’s interviewed on a call panic and grow uneasy. He’d know the telltale signs of an anxious person anywhere.

“Relax,” he murmurs quietly, just low enough that the words get trapped between the two of them, safe in this private bubble. His hands hold even more firmly, more reassuringly to TK’s hips as if to remind him that Carlos is truly right here holding on to him, keeping him upright and present in this moment.

TK blinks twice and licks his lips. Carlos tries to take his own advice and settle his racing heart but even without meaning to, with doing something as mundane as wetting his lips, TK is getting under his skin. There’s something about this hazy summer night that’s making his mind feel like it’s drifting, floating like the fireflies that flicker on and off in the yard. It’s as if they’re under a spell of some kind. Carlos can’t remember the last time he’s felt a pull this strong towards someone, as if they’re a planet and he’s a helpless moon sucked into their gravity. And yet still, TK makes him feel grounded.

“Carlos, what is this?” TK asks, his voice barely above a whisper. But Carlos catches it all with how close they are to each other, with how much he always seems to hang off TK’s every word.

It would seem that Carlos isn’t the only one keen on getting answers tonight.

“The beginning of us, I hope,” he replies.

Carlos isn’t sure where that boldness comes from but with the words out there, there’s no way for him to snatch them back or undo them. And frankly, Carlos realizes that he doesn’t want to. Clear cut answers. A line drawn in the sand. Clarity. That’s what they need now. Tiptoeing around feelings or pretending as if they aren’t there at all is no longer something that he can accept.

TK eyes him for a moment before slipping his arms off of Carlos’ shoulders, letting them fall at his sides. Speaking outright about this thing that’s been brewing between them is in clear violation of the unspoken rule, he knows but if TK was bold enough to ask, Carlos figures he was right in matching that. Yet now TK is pulling away and Carlos fears he’s said too much, his bravado from only seconds ago now dwindling. But before he can dwell on it for too long, TK is grabbing hold of one of his hands and tugging him off the dance floor.

Carlos knows better than to ask questions then. Wherever TK wants to take him, Carlos will willingly go. TK leads him out of the yard, ignoring the piqued interest of their coworkers who no doubt have questions and assumptions about where these two are headed off to. But Carlos takes a page out of TK’s book and tunes them out as well. Instead he focuses on how easily their hands slot together as if they were designed to hold on to each other.

They come around the side of the house to the front of the Ryder household. A few guests are milling about outside, chatting among themselves. Carlos doesn’t recognize any of their faces, the entire lot of the 126 now left behind in the yard.

TK keeps moving forward, beginning to walk down the block, raking a hand through his hair.

“TK?” Carlos ventures, starting to grow a bit concerned.

With an abrupt stop in his tracks, TK turns to look at Carlos before taking a seat on the curb. They’re only two houses down from the festivities and can still hear the revelry of the reception but it’s distant enough that Carlos feels far removed from it all. TK looks up at the sky, his face bathed in a wash of moonlight, half his features thrown into shadow from the lamppost a few feet away. Carlos settles in beside him, wrapping his arms around his legs.

The silence between them is heavy and with how unmoving TK is now, Carlos knows he’ll have to be the one to breach it if they’re going to get anywhere with each other.

“I know I’m not losing it here, am I?” Carlos asks. “I haven’t been imagining this vibe between us, right?”

TK looks down at his hands and shakes his head. “No, something is definitely happening. I just...it’s starting to feel real now and that’s not something I was expecting to find out here in Austin.”

Carlos considers this for a moment. “But is that necessarily a bad thing?”

It’s then that TK focuses back on him. “That’s what I’m still trying to figure out. It’s one thing to BS and flirt but it doesn’t feel like a game or a tease anymore. If it gets serious, there’s no going back and I don’t know what that’ll mean.”

Carlos’ brows furrow. “And you don’t know if this is worth it?”

“It’s so much more than that,” TK sighs. “Long story short, I left behind a lot of baggage in New York.”

Carlos knows what that’s code for. “What's his name?”

“Alex,” TK mutters, a hint of disgust coating the two syllables. Carlos doesn’t press for details. He simply nods his head in understanding and stays quiet for a beat.

“I can’t speak to this guy and whatever went down between you two but from what I know of you, I think you’re amazing. I’m sorry he made you feel like you can’t take chances or fall for someone again. But, I’m here, TK. I’m here and I’d like to see where we could go from this point.”

TK frowns and fiddles with his fingers again. “If you knew everything, I’m not so sure you’d still feel that way.”

This is a different version of TK than Carlos is used to but he welcomes that. Gone is the facade, the carefully crafted demeanor the man maintains in public. Here with just the two of them on a quiet street under the night sky, Carlos feels like he’s getting to the heart of TK and he likes what he sees. Certainly the man is in a self-deprecating mood, a complete shift from the confident guy out on the dance floor. But he’s being forthright about himself and Carlos can respect anyone that’s being candid. It’s an admirable trait and makes TK even more real to him.

“Maybe you could give me the chance to decide that for myself? Or to show you that I’m serious about this.” Carlos cringes a bit then, worried he’s coming on too strong considering TK’s hesitancy. “I don’t...I hope you don’t feel pressured here. I’m sorry if I’m—”

“No. Honestly, you aren’t making me feel like that. If anything, it’s the exact opposite. You make me feel...free. To possibility, to everything. I don’t know. There’s something about this town and the people here. Nothing is going at all like I expected it to, which is a very, very good thing.”

Carlos smiles softly at this. “Glad I could play a small part in that.”

TK knocks his shoulder lightly against Carlos’ and that tiny bit of contact sends his heart racing.

“Not a small part, believe me.”

Carlos bites back on the corner of his bottom lip and holds his hand out in the small space between them, palm up towards TK who smiles at him before accepting it. They sit in companionable silence for a moment before TK rests his head against Carlos’ shoulder. The reception is still in full swing with voices and music carrying over but Carlos couldn’t be happier with where he is now.

It makes him think loosely of that Oscar Wilde quote. He is quite literally in the gutters with TK now and yet there’s such a beauty to it as they both watch the stars beside each other for a short while with TK still resting on him.

“I could be good for you. Whenever you’re ready. If you’re ever ready,” Carlos amends, stroking his thumb along the back of TK’s hand.

TK sits up and Carlos shifts to face him. TK’s normally bright eyes are darkened now, his expression calculating as if he’s trying to make his mind up about something. Before Carlos can ask what’s on his mind, TK is leaning in, his lips pressing gently against Carlos’. There’s no rush to it, no haste as if TK is trying to prove something by kissing him. It feels more like an exploration, a tentative dive into uncharted waters.

Carlos matches his pace, leaving this all entirely in TK’s hands but he’d be lying if he said his mind isn’t already spiraling, his thoughts running away from him to the point where all he can think about is the mouth keeping time with his own. TK’s ability to make himself Carlos’ sole focus reaches new heights with this now. Carlos wants all of him, to swallow him whole and keep every bit selfishly for himself.

TK deepens the kiss and Carlos follows his lead, his hands grasping gently onto TK’s hair. TK responds in kind, his nails dragging down Carlos’ back. TK kisses him hungrily and Carlos serves it right back. This is weeks’ worth of tension bubbling to the surface, completely unfiltered. It makes Carlos feel delirious, his breath catching and blood pumping in his ears.

TK lets out a small whimper and pulls away sharply, both of them breathless and panting.

“I’m sorry,” TK says, licking his lips and pressing his fingertips against his mouth.

Carlos shakes his head, waving him off politely. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

TK breathes out shakily, lowering his hand and searching Carlos’ face with urgency.

“I still want to take this slow. I just got a bit carried away there for a second.” Even in the dark, Carlos can see the slight pink tinge to TK’s face.

Carlos leans in and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek, taking his hand again and entwining their fingers.

“Progress is progress no matter the pace,” Carlos says simply. “Point is, we’re moving forward together. That’s all I could ever ask of you.”

#tk x carlos #tarlos #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star #sulkybbarnes #ronenrubinstein #userjilly #sunshinestrand #starlightbuck #userpauline #userthai #useralie #usermaximus #usermaddiee #userbones #brilliantbanshee #kimmy writes

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coffeecomicsgalore · 3 years

Text

Never in Haste

Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng surpassed the Queen's assessment during her debut with praise. The soiree was underway and the young debutante could only hope that she would meet a suitor who could one day court her and marry her now that she has come of age. What should have been a magical evening turned into one of confusion when a cold-hearted Duke with green eyes and blonde hair collided with her in his haste to leave the ballroom. But as Marinette confidently gazed into his verdant stare after a brash comment, would his vow against his father hold true? Or will this Lady in Scarlet save his icy heart?

Ao3

Chapter 1

“Darling.” The older woman stated as she placed the diamond necklace over her daughter’s delicate collarbone. She slowly brushed the raven curls over Marinette’s right shoulder, giving Sabine ample space to clasp the lock at the nape of her daughter’s neck. “I promise you. You look absolutely stunning.”

Marinette stared at herself in the vanity mirror, her fingers ghosting against the divots and prongs on the intricate piece. The gown she wore was one of her own creations, a gorgeous piece that helped her feel more comfortable in her own skin. It was the one request that Marinette had negotiated with her mother, and Sabine smiled as she allowed her daughter this one reprieve before her first debut.

The seventeen-year-old was quick with a needle. Marinette created a scarlet satin gown adorned with a layer of black lace from the corset top until the hem. The delicate lace had just the right amount of detail, with spots and rose designs built throughout. Her capped sleeves were simple and hung lightly over her shoulders, the remaining area on her arms covered with long black gloves. She wore black stockings with satin scarlet kitten heels, and most of her hair was brought up into a curled bun with a small diamond tiara adorned on the top of her head. A small sliver of her long locks was left remaining, pinned behind her right ear and allowing it to fall perfectly over her right shoulder.

She bit her bottom lip slightly as she felt the pangs of nerves itching to be released in a panic. Yet due to the misfortune of being the youngest daughter of a Viscount, panic and ill-regret were never to be displayed in front of anyone besides herself in the confines of her bedroom.

“Maman.” Marinette called out almost quietly, afraid that her voice would break if she spoke too loudly.

Running her hand over her daughter’s shoulder and down her arm until she reached her hand as a way to soothe, Sabine grasped onto Marinette’s hand tightly to give her daughter reassurance. She sat down on the small bench in front of the vanity, bringing her daughter to sit down with her before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“My darling daughter. Do not worry your pretty little mind. I understand that this is a big moment in your young life; coming out into the world to be sought after in marriage. It’s… overwhelming. But you are amazing and kind and you will find someone that will love you for you.”

Marinette looked down and focused her attention to her mother’s hands. She could feel the encouragement and love pouring through her grasp.

“All I asked in my young life is to have a marriage like you and papa’s.” Marinette quietly stated. “I hope that whomever that man may be, will have the same values, hopes, and dreams as I.”

“And you will. Tonight is one of many. This season is your first, so do not forget that there is an abundance of men to prod after.” Sabine winked, hoping to help her daughter release the tension in her shoulders. “Bridgette felt the same as you before her own debut. I hope you remember how she had handled it a few years prior.” Marinette shook her head, and her maman reiterated the feelings in hopes to guide her daughter to feel the same. “With value, grace, and poise.”

Countess Bridgette Graham de Vanily is the eldest child of Viscount Dupain and Viscountess Cheng. In her first season of courting, Bridgette caught the eye of the eldest son of the late Earl of the Graham de Vanily household, denying four marriage proposals in hopes that Viscount Felix Graham de Vanily would request her hand in marriage. After Felix had caught wind of one royal proposal that had yet to be answered by Bridgette, he finally removed his prideful head out of his royal behind, coming to terms with the budding love within his heart for the debutante. A plead to the Viscount to court her led to a whirlwind romance, with a proposal and a wedding shortly before the summer ended.

“Felix was certainly a catch, maman.” Marinette snickered, causing Sabine to giggle quietly beside her. “Sister was sure to find the perfect match one way or another. Her confidence exudes her. Headstrong too. It’s what Felix loves about her.”

“That he does. So much so that they now have two children with another on the way.”

“I only hope to find someone as loving as he is to Bridgette as papa is to you.”

“As I said. You will.” Sabine tapped on the tip of Marinette’s nose with the pad of her index finger before a knock on the door halted their conversation. Sabine squeezed her daughter’s hands once more before standing tall with confidence towards the door.

“Come in.” Marinette called out to her lady’s maid, prompting the young woman to walk in.

“Miss. Madam.” Rose lightly bowed before speaking again. “The carriage is here. The viscount is waiting for your presence in the foyer.”

“Right. Thank you, Rose.” Sabine stated before gazing back towards her daughter. “Come now. We mustn’t keep your father waiting.”

Smiling once more in the mirror before standing, Marinette let out one last breath before stepping out of her room for the evening.

********************************

“Nope. Never.” The green-eyed, blonde-haired Duke of the Noir Estate stated in exasperation at his best friend. He sat at his desk, brandy in hand as he took in one last swig before the glass would be taken from him. “It will not happen.”

Lord Nino Lahiffe, The Marquess of Shelldon, pursed his lips as he removed the glass from Adrien’s hands, removing the bottle along with it. Adrien sneered in distaste.

“And you, my good sir, shall listen to how you speak. Discouraging the act of finding your Duchess. How else will you bear children?”

“And as I have said more times than I can count: I refuse to be part of a ploy my father likes to hang over my head. I shall not live under my father’s shadow and I shall not find a Duchess so long as he is alive.”

“But, Adrien. Listen to yourself. You are choosing your father’s rule over your own happiness. Is that how you want to live the remainder of your days? Alone without a love or family to call your own?”

“Of course not! But why should I even consider this fabricated idea? So that my father can force me to carry on the Agreste legacy with the woman of his choosing? It will not happen. He has ruled over my entire life with me directly under his thumb and I have yet to set foot outside of the circle he has barred me in. If I am to have a wife, it is with someone that I will love with all my being, someone that has similar values and loves like I. It will not be with someone only to bear children with and live the rest of our days in separate sections of our home like my maman and he had done until her untimely death. I refuse to believe that I can only be with a noble in our rank and that I cannot ‘dwindle in the affairs of those below me’. For that I choose to remain alone without love in this unfortunate lifetime.”

Nino shook his head before turning towards the window in the large office. The grounds were filled with gorgeous, blooming florals, the warm spring air filling the vast space with the wonderful scent of renewal. The golden rays of the sunshine were dwindling into the deep purples and blues of the night time sky, leading the sparkle of stars and the crescent moon to the entrance of the grand, blank canvas. The sounds of the birds chirping away was one of the only two sounds to hold presence in the space, the other being the scratches of the quill against the cardstock as the Duke wrote his orders. After a few moments in relative silence, Nino spoke again earnestly.

“Then, may I ask—as your dear friend—that you accompany me tonight so that I can find a bride of my own?”

Adrien paused his quill at the request, the thought rolling around in his mind as he slowly looked to his friend’s pleading face.

“As long as you do not push me away from the wine and brandy, I will accompany you and keep an eye on your gentlemanly ways.”

“That’s all I ask.” Nino’s lip curled slightly as he silently celebrated this small victory. “Let’s make haste. We shall not be late to the soiree.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at his lifelong friend, before turning and walking towards his bedroom to ready himself for the night.

********************************

“Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng, accompanied by her mother, the Honorable Viscountess Cheng of Coccinella Manor.”

As soon as the words slipped passed the lips of the Queen’s court Herald, Marinette walked through the large, ornate doors until she entered into the ballroom, walking down the aisle both silently and slowly as her mother followed closely behind her. The bluenette focused her attention on the Queen and her court, fear coursing through her veins as she hoped to keep her position and poise until the moment had passed.

Her heartbeat quickened as the heavy roar of anxiousness filled her ears. She could barely hear the muffled conversations between the other guests, and the music all but muted as she trekked closer and closer to the end.

This was the moment that would determine her eligibility. The Queen held all the cards, confirming or denying whether she would be desirable to the gentlemen amongst the sea of eligible ladies. The fate of her future rested in this moment, and she could not allow herself to fall lest she chooses to remain a spinster for the rest of her days.

Swallowing her fear as best she could, Marinette stood in front of the Queen and curtsied with proper authority, awaiting for the Queen to make her prediction or to dismiss her into the soiree without another word.

“Child.” The Queen stated with authority and waited until Marinette straightened her back and force her gaze into the royal’s eyes. “Turn.”

Marinette bowed her head as she accepted her order, turning ever so slowly as the Queen eyed her form. Once Marinette stood facing the Queen once again, she waited until she made her assessment, her breath all but left her body as she waited for the final word.

“Favorable… Indeed.” She said with contemplation; her court agreeing with both nods and mutters. “Exquisite gown. I, for one, enjoy fashion in every sense of the word. Compliment the seamstress for this exceptional gown.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the Queen’s words, a brief moment of panic before she remembered her place. She bowed her head with a slight curtsy of appreciation before responding in politeness. “Thank you, your Majesty. I will relay the compliments.”

The Queen nodded, waving her hand to dismiss the Viscountess and her daughter.

Marinette and her mother turned to the right, walking again with poise and grace as she walked into the waiting area near the entrance of where the soiree was being held. Her focus remained on her footsteps, her expression frozen in a confident gaze as she made her way to the area where her father, Bridgette, and Felix were waiting on word of the Queen’s decision.

The highest royal’s words echoed in Marinette’s mind as she continued to walk aimlessly through the area. The faces of the attendees were a mere fog in her mind, nothing quite registering no matter how hard she tried to situate her acquaintances and friendships in her nervousness. Neither were the mutterings of the crowds, nor the splendid music as it played in the background.

Only the touch of her mother’s hand brought her back into the space before her, the smile on her father’s face grounding her as the fear of the moment finally melting away.

“My darling daughter,” Tom cooed as he held her hand. “Please, announce the news. What did the Queen state?”

“She—” Marinette hesitated for a moment, not in fear, but due to the shock as the words rang in her mind once again. “I’m favorable, papa. And she complimented my gown. Her Majesty, complimented my gown.” She whispered by the end, afraid for those around her to hear that she created her own gown when her family should have afforded the luxury of commissioning a gown for the season.

Bridgette grabbed Marinette’s hands, squeezing her palms tightly as the excitement rang through her body.

“Sister! You will find your suitor yet. I’m so proud of you, love. So proud.”

Felix bowed his head slightly, showcasing his acceptance and joy over the occasion. “Amazing, Marinette. And the gown is absolutely stunning.”

Marinette finally released the breath she was holding, her lips curling slightly as she took in his compliment. “Thank you, Felix. You’re too kind.”

Felix smiled as held out his arms, one for each of the sisters. “Come now. The suitors will be waiting for your entrance. Your father has given me permission to watch over you. I hope this is to your liking?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone better,” she turned to her papa, lifting her hand to grasp his. “Besides my papa, of course.” The five members of the Dupain-Cheng and Graham de Vanily family chuckled at her words before Marinette turned to Felix to hold onto the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

********************************

Adrien stood beside the large pillar at the edge of the large ballroom. He held his poise, his lips pursed into a tight thin line as he waited for a servant to pass by him with a tray of wine for him to collect. His eyes wandered around the room in search of his friend, yet Nino was no where to be found.

Grunting out a growl of irritation, Adrien made his way across the floor, searching for the quickest path to the outside gardens. The looks of want and desire could be seen on the faces of the many debutantes awaiting a dance with a distinguishable suitor, yet he could see the wandering eyes of some who understood that the value of a Duke was much more worthwhile than the looks of Marquess, Earl, or Viscount.

Instead of focusing on the naïve thoughts of the attendees, Adrien chose to focus on his freedom, rushing towards the exit instead of being aware of his surroundings. He did not notice a certain debutante turning away quickly from the loose grasp of her escort, nor the way her smile lit up a room as she laughed in response to her escort’s conversation. But once the petite frame crashed against him as he turned to the right, he held his ground, instinctively grasping onto the debutante’s arms in order to steady her from an embarrassing fall. The accidental collision irritated him further, a deep frown etching his expression as she profusely apologized for her incompetence.

“Enough.” He stated, tersely, and he could see the woman physically flinch as she continued to look towards the ground. The guilt for his harsh response seeped into his soul, but he refused to state anything to resolve the situation. He would not allow the woman a bit of kindness as an aid to his decision of remaining single in vengeance against his father.

After a few silent seconds, the woman finally looked up, her blazing blue eyes gazing into his verdant stare, the entire world shifting the moment her pink lips parted slightly and a small gasp left her lips.

It was in that moment that Adrien realized that keeping his vow may be difficult to achieve.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #based on The Bridgetons #adrienette #enemies to lovers #Victorian Era AU #No Miraculous AU

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Tuesday, March 30, 2021

‘Vaccine passports’ are on the way (Washington Post) The Biden administration and private companies are working to develop a standard way of handling credentials—often referred to as “vaccine passports”—that would allow Americans to prove they have been vaccinated against the novel coronavirus as businesses try to reopen. The effort has gained momentum amid President Biden’s pledge that the nation will start to regain normalcy this summer and with a growing number of companies—from cruise lines to sports teams—saying they will require proof of vaccination before opening their doors again. The passports are expected to be free and available through applications for smartphones, which could display a scannable code similar to an airline boarding pass. Americans without smartphone access should be able to print out the passports, developers have said. U.S. officials say they are grappling with an array of challenges, including data privacy and health-care equity. They want to make sure all Americans will be able to get credentials that prove they have been vaccinated, but also want to set up systems that are not easily hacked or passports that cannot be counterfeited, given that forgeries are already starting to appear. Other countries are racing ahead with their own passport plans, with the European Union pledging to release digital certificates that would allow for summer travel.

Remote Work Is Here to Stay. Manhattan May Never Be the Same. (NYT) A year after the coronavirus sparked an extraordinary exodus of workers from office buildings, what had seemed like a short-term inconvenience is now clearly becoming a permanent and tectonic shift in how and where people work. Employers and employees have both embraced the advantages of remote work, including lower office costs and greater flexibility for employees, especially those with families. Beyond New York, some of the country’s largest cities have yet to see a substantial return of employees, even where there have been less stringent government-imposed lockdowns, and some companies have announced that they are not going to have all workers come back all the time. In recent weeks, major corporations, including Ford in Michigan and Target in Minnesota, have said they are giving up significant office space because of their changing workplace practices, while Salesforce, whose headquarters occupies the tallest building in San Francisco, said only a small fraction of its employees will be in the office full time. But no city in the United States, and perhaps the world, must reckon with this transformation more than New York, and in particular Manhattan, an island whose economy has been sustained, from the corner hot dog vendor to Broadway theaters, by more than 1.6 million commuters every day.

Billions of Cicadas Soon to Emerge From Underground (NYT) A few months of quarantine during the coronavirus pandemic? That’s nothing for a swarm of cicadas that have been underground since 2004. In the time that the United States has seen the Boston Red Sox break an 86-year World Series drought, five presidential elections, a deadly pandemic and an insurrection, these creatures have been minding their own business, burrowed in the soil. Now billions of cicadas, from a group known as Brood X, are expected to emerge in the next few weeks, just in time to help orchestrate the soundtrack of summer. Brood X is expected to emerge in about 18 states, scientists say.

Against the odds, Cuba could become a coronavirus vaccine powerhouse (Washington Post) Cuban leader Fidel Castro vowed to build a biotech juggernaut in the Caribbean, advancing the idea in the early 1980s with six researchers in a tiny Havana lab. Forty years later, the communist island nation could be on the cusp of a singular breakthrough: Becoming the world’s smallest country to develop not just one, but multiple coronavirus vaccines. Five vaccine candidates are in development, two in late-stage trials with the goal of a broader rollout by May. Should they prove successful, the vaccines would be an against-the-odds feat of medical prowess — as well as a public relations coup — for an isolated country of 11 million that was added back to the U.S. list of state sponsors of terrorism in the final days of the Trump administration. Cuban officials say they’re developing cheap and easy-to-store serums. They are able to last at room temperature for weeks, and in long-term storage as high as 46.4 degrees, potentially making them a viable option for low-income, tropical countries that have been pushed aside by bigger, wealthier nations in the international scrum for coronavirus vaccines. If Phase 3 trials are positive, Cuban authorities said this week, they would move to a vast “intervention study” that would inoculate almost all the residents of Havana, or 1.7 million people, by May. By August, they would aim to reach 60 percent of the national population, with the rest getting doses by year’s end.

Ukraine wants to show Biden it’s serious about ending ‘oligarch era.’ That’s not so easy. (Washington Post) The word of the moment in Ukrainian politics is “de-oliharkhizatsia” or de-oligarchization: a renewal of the long-held goal—and sometimes only faint hope—to free the country’s political system of domination by the ultrarich. Whether President Volodymyr Zelensky can deliver may set the tone for relations with the Biden administration. “The threat from within [Ukraine] is corruption . . . a lack of institutions that can effectively manage the country,” said Antony Blinken, now secretary of state, during his confirmation hearing in January. “If that threat continues, [it’s] going to be very difficult for them to build a viable democracy.” But Zelensky, a 43-year-old former comedian, has made only limited headway against the oligarchs’ grip since his election two years ago. The oligarchs’ power in Ukraine reaches deep into areas such energy, mining and media—giving a clique of billionaires the clout to shape political and policy decisions. Ukraine is on notice that greater Western aid and international loans are contingent on trimming back their influence. A $5 billion loan deal from the International Monetary Fund is on hold as the Ukrainians try to convince IMF officials that they are serious about tackling corruption.

Inside Myanmar’s Army: ‘They See Protesters as Criminals’ (NYT) Myanmar’s military, the Tatmadaw, which says it has a standing force of up to half a million men, is often portrayed as a robotic rank of warriors bred to kill. Since ousting Myanmar’s civilian leadership last month, setting off nationwide protests, it has only sharpened its savage reputation, killing more than 420 people and assaulting, detaining or torturing thousands of others, according to a monitoring group. On Saturday, the deadliest day since the Feb. 1 coup, security forces killed more than 100 people, according to the United Nations. Among them were seven children, including two 13-year-old boys and a 5-year-old boy. In-depth interviews with four officers, two of whom have deserted since the coup, paint a complex picture of an institution that has thoroughly dominated Myanmar for six decades. From the moment they enter boot camp, Tatmadaw troops are taught that they are guardians of a country that will crumble without them. They occupy a privileged state within a state, in which soldiers live, work and socialize apart from the rest of society, imbibing an ideology that puts them far above the civilian population. The officers described being constantly monitored by their superiors, in barracks and on Facebook. A steady diet of propaganda feeds them notions of enemies at every corner, even on city streets. The cumulative effect is a bunkered worldview, in which orders to kill unarmed civilians are to be followed without question. “They see protesters as criminals because if someone disobeys or protests the military, they are criminal,” said Captain Tun Myat Aung, an officer who defected to the ranks of the anti-coup demonstrators

Thai police vow more protest arrests after nearly 100 detained (Reuters) Thai police on Monday vowed to arrest more people participating in anti-government protests after detaining nearly 100 at a demonstration a day earlier, citing a law restricting gatherings to prevent the spread of coronavirus. Another protest demanding the release of jailed activists is planned for late Monday afternoon, raising prospects for another confrontation with activists calling for an end to military dominance of politics and reform of the powerful monarchy. Dozens of people have been detained at protests in recent months under disease control and public order laws, but Sunday’s protest represented one of the largest number of arrests at a single rally.

Metro Manila, outlying provinces go on lockdown (AP) Philippine officials placed Metropolitan Manila and four outlying provinces, a region of more than 25 million people, back to a lockdown Monday at the height of the Lenten and Easter holiday travel season as they scrambled to control an alarming surge in coronavirus infections. Only workers, government security and health personnel and residents on urgent errands would be allowed out of homes during the weeklong restrictions, which prohibited leisure trips and religious gatherings that forced the dominant Roman Catholic church to shift all its Holy Week and Easter activities online. The renewed lockdown brought President Rodrigo Duterte’s administration under fire for what critics say was its failed handling of the pandemic.

Lebanon could sink like Titanic, parliament speaker says (Reuters) Influential parliamentary speaker Nabih Berri said on Monday that Lebanon would sink like the Titanic if it could not form a government. Prime minister-designate Saad al-Hariri and President Michel Aoun have been at loggerheads over a new cabinet for months, dashing hopes of a reversal of Lebanon’s deepening financial meltdown. Parliament was due to discuss a $200 million emergency fund to pay for fuel for Lebanon’s electricity company. The energy ministry has said there are no funds to pay for imports beyond March. The Zahrani power plant, one of Lebanon’s four main electricity producers, has shut down after its fuel ran out.

Pleas for more aid to Syria (AP) At age 19, Fatima al-Omar is at her wits’ end. In the last year alone, she lost her home to fighting in Syria’s last rebel-held enclave and her mother was diagnosed with cancer. She became the sole breadwinner for her mother, three siblings and grandmother as they moved around between shelters. Then the coronavirus struck, aggravating conditions in northwest Syria just as new fighting had uprooted 1 million people—the biggest wave of displacement in the country’s 10-year war. By late 2020, al-Omar contracted COVID-19, costing her the last job she had picking olives. She hasn’t been able to find work since and is now at risk of another eviction. Despite the worsening humanitarian situation across war-ravaged Syria, it’s been getting tougher every year to raise money from global donors to help people like al-Omar. The aid community is bracing for significant shortfalls ahead of a donor conference that starts Monday in Brussels and is being co-hosted by the United Nations and the European Union. Pledges were already dropping off before the coronavirus pandemic mainly due to donor fatigue. Officials fear that with the global economic downturn spurred by the pandemic, international assistance for Syria is about to take a new hit just when it is needed most. Earlier this month, a U.N. appeal for aid to Yemen, the world’s worst humanitarian crisis, was less than 50% funded, in what U.N. Secretary General Antonio Guterres called a disappointment. According to the U.N., 13.4 million people in Syria, more than half the country’s pre-war population, need assistance. That’s a 20% increase from last year.

Whatever Floats the Boat (Foreign Policy) The Ever Given, the super container vessel that ran aground in the Suez Canal last Tuesday was successfully refloated in the early hours of Monday morning following days of excavation attempts. A team of high-powered tugboats appeared to have ultimately made the difference, after days of work from excavators and dredgers to free the ship after it became wedged in the Egyptian sand. The boat will now head north for further inspection. Meanwhile, navigation is to resume “immediately” afterward, according to the Suez Canal Authority. Mohab Mamish, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi’s adviser for the Suez Canal, said it will take roughly a week to clear the remaining ships out of the canal once the Ever Given is under way. Dealing with the backlog that has accumulated north and south of the canal will likely take more than twice as long. The refloating heads off more economic damage for Egypt, which was losing roughly $15 million in fees for each day the canal was not operational.

While the world tore its hair out over the Suez, Russia saw an opportunity (Washington Post) Russian officials are seizing on the Suez Canal blockage saga to promote its Northern Sea Route, an ambitious infrastructure plan being pushed by President Vladimir Putin that aims to capitalize on the polar ice melt from global warming by opening up Arctic shipping and development. Russia’s Energy Ministry said Monday that the days-long blockage of the canal by Rotterdam-bound Ever Given showed that its Northern Sea Route (NSR) and gas and oil pipelines were reliable, secure and competitive “in comparison to alternative routes.” Russia last year released a sweeping plan to open up the Arctic shipping route, which includes building a fleet of dozens of nuclear icebreakers and other ships, mapping natural resources in the region and developing airports, ports and railways in northern Russia. In 2020, Russia’s meteorological agency said the ice cover in the Arctic sea route had reached a record low.

As Militants Seize Mozambique Gas Hub, a Dash for Safety Turns Deadly (NYT) As gunshots rang out across a port town in northeastern Mozambique on Friday afternoon, nearly 200 people sheltering inside the Amarula Palma hotel confronted a devastating reality: The armed insurgents outside the hotel’s doors had all but taken control of the town and there was no one coming to save them any time soon. For two days, hundreds of insurgents in the gas-rich region had been laying siege to the coastal town of Palma, firing indiscriminately at civilians, hunting down government officials and setting buildings ablaze as security forces tried in vain to repel them. The violence sent thousands of people fleeing, with some rushing to the beach, where a ragtag fleet of cargo ships, tugboats and fishing vessels was ferrying people to safety. But at the hotel, with daylight hours dwindling, the local residents and foreign gas workers who remained faced an impossible choice: Either wait inside, defenseless, for a promised evacuation in the morning, or try to make it to the beach. In a desperate dash, dozens of people crammed into a 17-vehicle convoy and left the hotel for the oceanfront. Only seven vehicles completed the trip. Militants ambushed the convoy after it left the hotel grounds, setting on the occupants of the cars. Many arrived at the beach bloodied. Many never made it at all. American officials said 40 to 50 foreigners alone were feared dead in the attack. By Saturday night the insurgents had completely overrun the town, leaving scores of people unaccounted for and feared dead.

Tree mortality (The Guardian) Since 2010, 129 million trees are estimated to have died in California’s national forests alone. Around the globe, research has suggested that the tree mortality rate in some temperate and tropical forests has doubled or more in recent decades. While normally the life cycle of forests dictates that the ecosystem regrows after forest fires, this is no longer the case. Across the globe, researchers have found that large areas of trees and other plant life have stopped regrowing following wildfires. Forest mortality researchers say while this does not mark the end of the forests, it may well be the end of many forests as we’ve known them. Iconic species such as Giant Sequoias and Joshua trees are succumbing to the effects of climate change in remarkable numbers, while massive ecosystems such as the Amazon rainforest and Siberia’s boreal forests are also suffering. The main factors for increased forest mortality include a hotter climate and increased vulnerability to insects and disease. Researchers have acknowledged ambiguity in their tree mortality predictions, but widespread health problems in forests are prompting a broad and looming sense of disquiet.

#headlines #news

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smokeybrand · 4 years

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Welcome Back

I am a card carrying geek. I was that nerd in grade school, reading comics, watching anime, and larping with his friends during recess. I’ve always loved things like books and film, mostly because my ma had a penchant for the sci-fi and we would share in her hobbies. I’ve been a fan of Doctor Who since i was a wee lil’ Smokey and had a particular fondness for Max Headroom’s shenanigans. My chosen proclivities lend themselves to alternate universes, divergent timeless, and the interdenominational doppelganger or two. What i am trying to convey, here, is that i am not stranger to the revisit of a franchise. For me, rebooting an established work or expanding a loved lore is not a transgression. I am a fan of narrative. If you can tell a unique story, it really doesn’t even have to be that good, but something creativity and compelling, i am totally on board. This isn't as difficult a feat as you'd think considering how well Hollywood can adapt international films. The Ring and The Departed are effectively remakes of their original Asian fare and those films are spectacular. Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is the best example of this i can give. His deconstruction of the Batman mythos was one of the best cinematic and storytelling experiences I ever had. If you can take an established narrative, an established universe, and inject your own flavor into it, i am down for that, too. The Kelvin Star Trek timeline immediately comes to mind. Again, comic book guy, specifically a Spider-Man shill.

While i have years worth of alternate Spider-Men in the books to pull from, i think the most concise example i can give for a layman is to think Into the Spider-Verse, only with thousands more Spider-Men and Spider-Women. That’s the world I'm broaching this subject from, where there are decades worth of stories and reboots and remakes and reimagings, basically revisits, of a character that i absolutely love. Some are great like the Ultimate Spider-Man or the world of Renew Your Vows, and some are not so great, like that version Abrams’ kid came up with. That whole story was the worst. We have actually seen a little bit of this narrative reincarnation in the Spider-Man film franchise, itself, both good and bad. If we take the very first Spider-Man films, those campy, Raimi classics, as a starting point, then we had a terrible reboot in the Amazing franchise and a rather brilliant reimagining in the MCU outings. I really like the MCU retool. Tom Holland is THE onscreen Peter Parker and you can fight me about it all day.

Jurassic World and The Force Awakens are an interesting situation in the whole Revisit discourse. Both of these films are effectively reboots of the entire franchise and a whole ass remake of their initial entries. Beat for beat, theme for theme, these two films are basically the same as Jurassic Park and Episode IV, just less than they are in every conceivable fashion. Now, on paper, i should hate this but i don’t. There is a reason both of the imitations made billions for their respective franchise and that is simply nostalgia. We. as a culture, were starved for a Jurassic sequel and new Star War. When we got these movies in earnest, no one cared they were rehashes of the films that made them so important to the cultural zeitgeist. It was like seeing A New Hope and that initial outing to Isla Nublar for the first time, for a second time, but with much better effects. It had been decades since either of these movies had a proper release so we all just accepted that these were refresher courses in the lore. It was with the sequels that these things sh*t the bed so hard.

Fallen Kingdom and The Last Jedi skewed so far from what these franchises were, from the rules that had been established in the preceding films, including the first in their new trilogies, that they were offensive. Legitimately offensive. Jurassic World and The Force Awakens, as flawed as they were, left their worlds in respectable places. The narratives that could be built from those starting point were incredible. That potential was palpable. Lucas, himself, said that the stories should rhyme and you see that in his six films. Familiar yet different. Nostalgic yet original. Respectful yet original. None of that was recognized in the follow-ups and that is why these two franchises are on life support. It’s sad because there was potential there. Characters introduced were compelling and narrative threads left unties, could have become something great. Instead, expectations were subverted and the world completely sh*t on in an effort to be edgy, to distance itself from the established lore. That sh*t is whack. It’s not about being a fan of the franchise or a zealous istaphobe or whatever else the Twatter mob wants to accuse people of being. It’s about bad story telling. it’s abut a complete betrayal of a decades old franchise. It’s a bout being disingenuous with the property for personal gain.

I said at the beginning of this essay that i love a revisit. That’s why i went to see these sh*tty films. I also made very clear that i love storytelling. Fallen Kingdom and The Last Jedi lack in that fundamental aspect, that’s why they suck. They’ve done irreparable damage to the entire franchise and canon of these worlds that were so meticulously crafted by proper visionaries. Michael Crichton is rolling in his grave at what became of his Dinosaur Westworld and Lucas effectively bogarded his way into running Lucasfilm again after they sh*t on his legacy and that’s the thing; Legacy. These two franchises are part of American culture. They’re as revered as Apple Pie and Institutional Racism here. They’re not cash grabs or vehicles to push your politics. They’re modern fairy tales, myths, and should be respected as such. The thing is, though, i don’t believe there are actual creatives out there that have the vision to create like Crichton or Lucas anymore. Or, at least, Creatives that are willing to work within the constraints of this ridiculous studio system.

Modern film studios are disgustingly risk averse. That is a problem with anything making entertainment media nowadays but it’s most egregious in Hollywood. Films like Star Wars and Alien were made in a time when budgets didn’t swell to hundreds of millions of dollars so directors had to do what he could, with what they had, and that level of imagination birthed classics. It’s rare that creators get a blank check to deliver their vision nowadays, and even rarer that what they get to make if they receive that loot, is actually good. Zack Snyder and the train wreck that is Sucker Punch demonstrates my point perfectly. the new Lucases and Camerons are rare but there are a handful of directors who carry that torch. Denis Villeneuve is an incredible visual storyteller. He has a distinct vision for the grand and manages to craft proper worlds. Blade Runner 2049 is one of the best films i have ever seen in my life but it didn’t make money because people have been conditioned to ignore great storytelling for great effects. That sh*t is why people can say to me, with a straight face, that they think Batman v. Superman is better than The Dark Knight rises. That sh*t is stupid, shut the f*ck up. Deni was given the reigns to the Dune reboot and i think this might be the film that breaks him through to the mainstream.

Dune is a reboot. It looks like a revisit to the old David Lynch flick but with Deni’s penchant for the epic. This movie feels like what Jurassic World and The Force Awakens wanted to do; A respectful acknowledgment of what came before but an original take going forward. Dune is one of the greatest sci-fi novels ever written and Deni is one of the most profound visionaries in the game right now. I have no doubt the new film is going to be fantastic. This combination is a match made in heaven, similar to Alex Garland with Annihilation or, more accurately i think, Luca Guadagnino and Suspiria. Those two films are f*cking incredible and they adapt the source material in a very, specific, manner. Annihilation is a reimagining of the book and carries its own themes and tones while the new Suspiria is a complete reinterpretation of what came before, that i believe eclipses the original. Dune looks excellent but i don’t know that it will be well received. Deni has his work cut out for him because the world of revisits is riddle with the corpses of films that couldn’t care the weight of what came before or what could have been. Still, i don’t want Hollywood to stop. As unoriginal as remaking things is, i adore a fresh set of eyes on familiar fare. There are infinite ways to tell the same story and that’s the fun of revisiting an old tale.

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 4 years

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FICS: PROPOSTE INDECENTI + AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

I posted these on AO3 back in January. And I really wanted to have something brand new for today, but I am trying as hard as I can to have the fairy tale AU finished by tomorrow, so... Hope you’ll like them! They are BOTH IN ENGLISH ;) !!

PROPOSTE INDECENTI Seconds

10 - 9

The longest ten seconds of his whole fucking life. Maybe Niccolò really is considering turning it down, given the time and setting.

3 a.m. McDonald's. Sitting on plastic chairs. Lazily eating cold fries and a hamburger that tastes like cardboard with one hand, stroking each other's thumbs with the other. Feeling like the last men on Earth, in a deserted place that would normally be buzzing with life in the daytime.

He should have sticked to his plan, given him his scripted speech this Sunday at the Bioparco. But he didn't, and now...

8-7

… now he's screwed, isn't he? He fucked it up, and Niccolò is going to carry on and pretend this has been nothing but a bad dream.

He couldn't help it, though. Not when Niccolò was glowing with pride and elation as he showed Martino his first - published, finally!! - illustrated book.

The one Nico had lovingly renamed 'our baby' - and damn if Marti's heart didn't skip a beat at that - even though all he didn't do much but offer his moral support.

How was he supposed to resist?

6-5

He looked more beautiful than ever, in an old tracksuit and with a ridiculous headband holding his wild curls at bay. Buzzing with enthusiasm, while he told Marti about how Naima the giraffe who had her head too high in the clouds learnt from Mabel the red panda that she shouldn't fear what's in her heart. That her feelings are never too much, like so many others have been telling her.

Niccolò had always been very secretive about the plot, saying 'It's a surprise' with a mischievous glint in his eyes whenever Martino asked for more details… and right in that very moment he could see why.

"Children emotions tends to be heightened, and therefore often dismissed. I hope this can tell them that they matter, you know? That they're gonna find someone willing to listen, someday. Just like I found you."

It was their story. Edited, tweaked but still the same at its core. Shared to offer some hope to whoever might need it.

How could he not stop Niccolò right there and fumble for the box in his bag?

4-3

Flinging it into his hands and dropping on one knee felt too predictable and cheap, however.

"I… I think I'm gonna get a milkshake. Would you like me to get you anything? An ice-cream cone? A Flurry?" Then, raising a voice a couple of octaves to make it sound childlike he adds "A Happy Meal?"

"Ahah. You're so funny, have you ever considered a career as a stand-up comedian? Get me a Happy Meal, you ass." And he would have sucked on that raised middle finger, without any shame, had it been a night like any other.

But it wasn't.

Niccolò kept on gloating, until he opened the Happy Meal. His face fell, indeed, when he found the giraffe and red panda wooden figurines connected through a red silk thread and carrying a ring.

Ebony black, like his hair. Adorned with amber and aventurine, which both reminded Martino of his eyes.

Eyes which were now boring into him with a mixture of confusion and… disappointment?

Not exactly the reaction he had been wishing for. The silence between them felt a bit uncomfortable, for the first time in maybe ever, but Martino forced himself to speak.

"I know that I told you, so many times and in so many ways, that nobody knows a fucking thing about what's gonna happen tomorrow but... I am certain about ONE thing and ONE thing only: that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, as your HUSBAND. Don't you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"That's two things, Marti. Maybe even three. I believe so… but let me just have ten seconds to think it through, okay?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. " He finally says. Each yes said before a kiss, his smile getting brighter and brighter as they both start crying. Tears they brush away with gentle fingertips, with soft lips.

"A thousand times yes, Marti." Niccolò reiterates, resting his forehead against his fiancé's. Not an old fashioned to say 'boyfriend' when you significant one is not exactly a boy anymore, but the real deal now.

Fiancé. Betrothed. Soon to be husband. He can't wait to refer to Martino using those term with friends, colleagues, guests, relatives. With all those random people he ends up talking to while queuing up at the post office - on the bus, on the train, on the subway. The whole world needs to know, and he is certain that Marti feels like the same.

"Once is more than enough."

-----------

Minutes

It still doesn’t feel real, even though he has had some minutes to let it sink in. Despite the weight of the ring dangling from his necklace - "how very Frodo of you…" "Are you calling your future husband a fucking hobbit, Mr Rametta?" - and his proposal still echoing in his ears, he fears he might wake up any minute now. Alone.

He has to take refuge in Marti’s arms, grounding himself in his warm and tight embrace. Nothing can touch him, when he’s there. Nothing can reach him, apart from Martino’s smell and the palpable solidity of his body.

"I can take it back, if you’d like." Marti mumbles, against his helix piercing.

"Don’t you dare!" Niccolò protests, first jabbing his ribs with his forefinger and then flicking his nose.

"I mean… you don't sound positively thrilled about it…" He points out, puzzled to hear Niccolò chuckle.

"Well, we're talking about spending the rest of my life with the most boring gay I've ever met…" Nico sighs dramatically, but then he gets dreadfully serious. He is so overjoyed, so full of love he could burst, and Martino better not end up thinking otherwise. "I couldn't be happier… You know that, right? I simply wanted to be the one to propose."

"Well, maybe you still can. Fifteen or twenty years from now, when we'll feel like renewing our vows or some shit…" Martino suggests, standing up and cleaning their table. They must go now, if they want to have some time left to spare to celebrate home before heading out again to work.

"Sounds lovely. You have such a way with words, Marti." Niccolò shoves him playfully, but files that piece of information into a secured corner of his brain. Might come in handy, in the future. "And how do you know about renewals, anyway? Don't tell me you've been bingewatching 'Say Yes To The Dress' on RealTime!"

"Whaaat? Me? Nope. Never. Must have heard something from Filo. Or was it Edo?"

*************

AMO GIA’ IL FINALE

Hours

Hours have gone by. It took them twice longer than usual to reach their flat, unable to walk more than a few steps without stopping for a quick peck. Or a full on make out session against a couple of closed, sturdy, doors.

Clothes were discarded on the floor as soon as they stepped inside, and they had made love until dawn. Exhausted, by then, they had fallen asleep.

Fear has had time to come knocking, and with it the painful reminder that people always leave. Or get sick of each other, and stay together only to keep up appearances.

No. That's not gonna happen. Not to them. Not when they are perfectly aware that gonna have to make a promise to each other not only on that day… but every second, every minute, every hour they spend together. Or apart.

Not necessarily with words. Which little gestures, too. Cherish their love. Never take it for granted.

"I promise you that we can make it. From now, to infinity." Martino says, softly, as he lays a kiss on Niccolò chest. Right where his heart is, just like Nico did so many years before under those red lights.

"To infinity and beyond."

"Don't start quoting Toy Story when I'm trying to be deep, Ni."

"It doesn't suit you. Now, up up up. Put something on and come with me... I don't want to miss watching the sunrise and cuddling with my betrothed on my cozy balcony."

"You are unbelievable."

"And you love that."

"I sure do, don't I?"

Imagination

This is absolutely not what Niccolò or Martino had in mind.

The unnecessary opulence, the stifling atmosphere in spite of the marvelous outdoor venue.

"It's not like you had a clear picture of what you wanted, anyway." Anyone would argue, and they would be right.

It had been easy enough to picture it back in Milan, where having a wedding in their birthday suits had sounded like the coolest idea he had ever had… But now Nico can't really see how that would go down, can't imagine it wouldn't be a complete catastrophe.

Like any other scenario they came up with. Some are too over the top, and would make Martino feel uncomfortable. Some are too dull, and would be an ill match to Niccolò's eccentricity.

Someone had to take the matter into their hands, and it wasn't like Silvia had done a bad job with the very little input she had from the grooms.

Maybe they could settle for this?

***************

Instinct

Or maybe not.

Martino refused to make this day, their day, about anyone else but themselves.

His in-laws were probably going to hate him for this, as firm believers of a time and a place for spontaneity, and their own friends were surely going to hold it against them for the next fifty years or so… but who cared?

Not him. Not when he was witnessing the first real smile of the week from Niccolò, merely by showing up on his old bike.

"Get on." It took him some fumbling, since a tight fitting tuxedo wasn't really the best attire for riding a bike, but eventually he managed to sit comfortably behind Martino.

"Where are we going?" He asked, presuming to be filled in about Marti's plan for the next few hours.

"Wherever the fuck we want." Martino said, instead, refusing to tell Niccolò anything concerning their destination. Or what they would do, once they reached it.

It didn't take too long to get to a church that Niccolò knew all too well. He had often joked about getting married in its crypt, surrounded by skulls and chandeliers made of human bones. Too bad it was hardly ever opened to the public, and totally unavailable for any kind of celebration.

"And how exactly are you planning to get in?" He inquired, walking over to the locked door.

"I might have asked Filippo to make me a copy of the key, when he got one for his photography project. Off the record." Because he knew Niccolò would love to stroll through the building undisturbed. Taking in its macabre allure, appreciating the fleeting nature of his own existence.

"Uh… Martino Rametta breaking the law by owning something he's not supposed to? A man after my own heart, I must say."

"I thought I already had it. Your heart, I mean." He commented, offhandedly, as he cursed and kicked against the rusty old door. "Oh, come on! Jesus! You were working just fine last time!"

"And this wonderful hint of blasphemy, right in front of a church. Wow." Niccolò reached out for him, then, pinning his open palm onto his own chest. "You're not mistaken, by the way. This has been yours for years."

"Same here." Marti turned to take his hand, and l let him feel how fast his heart was beating.

And then, as Marti was leaning in for a kiss, Nico moved back and brazenly snatched the keys.

"You know I've got the magic touch. Don't know whether it's in the fingers on in the wrists…"

"You better leave those innuendo at the door, Ni."

"Or what? You'll punish me, Father? You'll drag me into one of the confessionals and…"

… and he might had been tempted to do that, to drop on his knees and worship this man… Before he was basically challenged to reign in his wildest fantasies. Oh, he knew Niccolò wouldn't even try to play fair but still… He was so going to win this.

******

Memory

"... and then?" The kids asked, trying to get Mr. David's attention.

"Mh?" He had been distracted by an old lady coming to congratulate him on finally tying the knot a couple of weeks before. Shoelaces were a challenge for anyone, indeed, so it made sense he got praised for achieving that goal… Even though it took him so many years.

And that hadn't been the only interruption. For same weird reason their parents kept butting in to tell them shouldn't bother Mr. Fares. Or his 'partner'. They don't say 'husband', for some reason. Despite it being the word David uses for Michelangelo.

Grown up are so, so dumb.

"You ran away from your own wedding, got to a spooky church… and then? What happened?"

"Did you find a body and have to solve a murder?"

"I'm afraid not. We walked inside, and I read him my vows. He gave me his. I can show them to you, if you'd like? I always carry them in my pocket." Most didn't quite understand what was so great about two stick figures on a badly drawn giraffe, but the words written on the side sounded nice. Especially the closing line.

Per quanta strada abbiam fatto, e per quanta ancora ce n'è da fare… Amo già il finale.

"Booooring! I bet you went back to the ranch for the actual ceremony, after that?"

"Wrong. Remember that I started telling you all about this day because Meni asked what was the biggest prank I've ever pulled on my friends and family… That's it: making them all believe they would see US getting married and then have two other people saying 'I do' that afternoon. And this day I'm still quite proud I could pull that off. And so is my husband. I mean, our old folks were THIS close to believe we had been kidnapped."

Impressive. Kind of. Perhaps grown up can be cool, once in a blue moon?

"Ni? Nico? Earth to Niccolò Fares?" Not fair! He was a grown up! Why was he getting sweets before dinner?

"Yeah yeah, I can hear you loud and clear Marti." He gulped down his candies in a heartbeat. And then gave him a quick kiss, saying "Thanks, love."

Huh? Nico? Marti? Then why their moms - and a couple of their dads - referred to him as Michelangelo's David?

Grown ups are so, so weird.

#skam italia #final countdown weeks #week 2 #day four: share the love

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chicagocityofclans · 3 years

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Nathan Cleirigh → Hugh Dancy → Warlock

→ Basic Information

Age: 766

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay/Questioning

Powers: Elenchus

Birthday: January 7th

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Religion: Christian

Mark: Cleirigh

Generation: 2nd

→ His Personality Nathan is the black sleep of the Cleirigh mark and his family. Compared to his family, and most other witches and warlocks, Nathan is unreliant on his power. It's a helpful tool in his profession, but if he lost his power, he could go on. At times he forgets he even has it. Nathan is also unique in his resistance against the melancholia that pervades older witches and warlocks. Nathan appreciates every time period for what it was, and lives firmly in the present. With an ‘inactive’ mental power, Nathan has always turned to knowledge. He’s smart and excels at everything he tries. He is extremely thorough, responsible and dependable. Nathan also has a well-developed power of concentration. He truly loves life.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Psychiatrist at Cleirigh Psychiatry Center

Scars: Yes

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Newborns and Midnight

Two Dislikes: Pathological Liars and Deadbeat Parents

Two Fears: Being Burnt At The Stake and Losing Control

Two Hobbies: Meditation and Crosswords/Sudoku

Three Positive Traits: Romantic, Hopeful, Understanding

Three Negative Traits: Blunt, Unforgiving, Arrogant

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Ronan Cleirigh (Father): Nathan bumps heads with his father often and their relationship has been strained since the disappearance of Nathan's younger brother Sean. He doesn’t agree with a lot of things he’s father does but is trying to mend their relationship.

Lilith Harlow (Mother): His mother is one of his best friends. Nathan grew past his hatred of her leaving him with his father and not trying to establish a relationship for him. She is married and works as a foster mother for unwanted or abandoned witches and warlocks. She refers most of her children to him.

Ishtar Cleirigh (Step Mother): Ishtar has tried many times to get on his good side but Nathan is content with just one mother. He doesn’t care for her but shows her the utmost respect as the mother of his siblings and the wife of his father.

Sibling Names:

Ethan Cleirigh (Brother): They don’t have much in common and are polar opposites but Ethan is his little brother and Nathan loves him. Nathan has an underlying jealousy of Ethan's close relationship with their father, brothers and other family members.

Sean O’Payne-Cleirigh (Brother): Nathan doesn’t remember much about Sean anymore but he knows that his brother deserved better.

Judson Cleirigh (Brother): Judson is his best friend and they’re the closest of their siblings. Lately, Nathan has been feeling Judson pulling away from him and he’s trying not to blame it on Ethan or Roman taking up his time.

Teyla Cleirigh (Sister): Nathan was surprised to find his father and step-mother were having another child. Teyla is sweet but there’s not much Nathan can do for her right now. He is her last line babysitter which is far too rare.

Altair Cleirigh (Borther): Altair wasn’t a surprise. After Ronan and Ishtar renewed their vows, Nathan knew another sibling wasn’t far behind. Unlike his relationship with Teyla, Nathan finds himself more active in Altair's life.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Richard Fili (Interest): Nathan and Fili have been going out on dates randomly for decades. Nathan does not know if what they have is an on again/off again relationship. That is mostly because they can never seem to make it past date number three without losing contact or Fili freaking out and calling things off. Nathan cannot remember if they have ever kissed or done anything more than hold hands. Fili has been sending Nathan gifts lately which Nathan has returned but Nathan can not help but to feel smitten by the gesture. Unable to trust Fili again, Nathan has been trying to avoid Fili and keep his own feeling about the vampire at bay. Fili showing interest again couldn’t have come at a worst time.

Helenus Askeris (Ex-Lover): Both Nathan and Helenus were still reasonably young when they met. Their friendship quickly developed into something more. Over the years though, they found their lives pulling them along different paths and to completely different places. Before things got messy they decided they should break it off, and as a result they are still on good terms to this day.

Matt Staton (Ex-Boyfriend): Matt nearly ruined Nathan’s life and tore him away from his family. Nathan placed Matt first on multiple occasions, including his own emotions. His wants were placed on the back burner by Matt and had ultimately led to their break up. Nathan nearly proposed to Matt and wanted to suggest that he take a vampire’s bite so that they could be together forever. Nathan’s hatred runs so deep that he wishes nothing but the worst for Matt.

Platonic Connections:

Talia Cleirigh (Co-Worker/Friend): Talia and Nathan have more than one connection outside of work. She is his father's former mentee, she is dating his little brother and she lives with and mentally cares full time for his uncle. Nathan considers her a true friend. Outside of work and his family, they would still be friends.

Kady Gaines (Friend): Nathan formed an easy friendship with Kady as she mentored with Ronan. She finds his powers amusing and he finds her amusing.

Lyra Cleirigh (Friend): Nathan and Lyra bonded while she mentored with Kaylor. He usually tries not to ‘shrink’ family and friends but he has convinced Lyra to come visit him and has promised that Dr. Cleirigh will stand apart from Nathan.

Ryan Cleirigh (Nephew): Nathan tried to get Ryan not to rely on his magic as much but failed. He’s worried about his nephew but Ryan refuses to come in to talk to him. It's against the family rules to force himself on family members but Nathan is considering it for Ryan’s own good.

Akasha Genesis (Cousin): Akasha’s wild and free spirit drives Nathan up the wall. She purposely tries his nerves and it drives him away from her every time. They were close when they were younger but Nathan has no idea what happened.

Gennifer Genesis (Cousin): As a child, Nathan was once in love with Gennifer before he realized he couldn’t marry or date family and that he was more interested in men.

Owen Genesis (Cousin): Owen is the brother Nathan always wanted but never had. Their friendship is blossoming more now that Judson is occupied.

(Nathan does not see those he offers therapy as part of his platonic connections).

Hostile Connections:

Jia Hu Cleirigh (Annoyance): Nathan has made very little progress with Jia. Despite them being friends and technically family, Jia drives Nathan up the wall.

Clarisse Fields (Annoyance): Clara is in denial. Her lies give Nathan a headache. Even more so that she believes in most of her lies. She’s a good friend but lately she’s been more of an annoyance and Nathan dreads their sessions together.

Dan Prior (Annoyance): Dan was in a dark place when he first came to Nathan nearly 30 years ago. Sometimes they make progress and sometimes Nathan finds himself blocked out completely. He is almost at a loss with Dan and that has never happened to him.

Pets:

Tyr and Fenrir (Brother Capybaras): Nathan mistakenly brought them both online thinking they were expensive stuffed animals for his child patients. Unable to return them and unwilling to send them to the zoo, Nathan kept them.

→ History Nathan didn’t have a hard life or a complicated life. Besides his father and mother being separated, Nathan lived and enjoyed the plain and simple life. While his younger brothers focused on magic, Nathan begged his father to let him attend the local schools, wanting to learn about the human world too. He enjoyed it and enjoyed a break from the constant buzzing of magic around him. He was almost 16 when he learned that he wouldn’t age like his friends. Nathan associated it with their constant moving, he wanted to abandon the supernatural path and his powers. Thanks to his powers he knew that wasn’t at all possible. That’s when he started refusing to rely on magic and it drove everyone mad.

Nathan had always been interested in why people lied and what triggered such sadness in people. That curiosity led him to join the medical field. At first it was human biology that caught his attention, then neuroscience and pathology. It took him a while to settle into a field, as new ones popped up every decade, but Nathan had a knack for listening to people and helping them. In the early 1800’s Nathan entered psychiatry; the medical treatment of the soul. Nathan never changed his profession. Every 40 or 50 years returning to school and learning new findings. When his family settled in Chicago, Nathan opened up his own practice, to both humans and supernaturals. It took decades to get the local animal shifters, vampires and human shifters to trust him and he respects that trust above all else.

→ The Present Nathan has recently gotten out of a bad relationship that nearly ended him and placed him at odds with his family and friends. Nathan thought he was in love with Matt, a human and was blinded by his need for normalcy outside of the supernatural community. Although it has been nearly a year, he has yet to fully recover and still refuses to join the dating scene, especially with Fili. Nathan knows that his breakup with Matt has caused an unwarranted hate and distrust of humans within him. However, their break up also pushed him to be closer to his family and triggered a family oriented trait he was unaware he had. Never had he ever shown an interest in his father, uncles or brothers' work within the supernatural community. Now he finds during his free time he’s sitting around watching Judson or Roman mixing potions and asking questions and offering to help his father with the wards around the house and their establishments. Nathan's next step is rekindling friendships and a closer bond to his patients.

#Nathan Cleirigh #Taken #Hugh Dancy

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averagestudent7 · 4 years

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Activism &Protests via Social Media

Social Media activism is a broad form of activism that uses media and communication technology for social and political movements. It is also a medium for grassroots activists and anarchists to distribute content that is not accessible through mass media or to post censored news stories (PewResearch 2018). Basically this is where all the juicy content resides, so lets dive in.

#hashtag Activism

Hashtag activism is a term invented by media sources that refers to the usage of Twitter hashtags for Int

ernet activism. Hashtag advocacy is a strategy to broaden the use of communication and make it democratic in such a way that everyone has a way to share their views and opinions (GlobalCitizen n.d).

Here are a few #hashtags that have been used in the past by Social Activits;

1. #HeForShe

We all know that gender equity affects everyone, don't we? And feminism for women? Well, we have a significant part of the He For She movement to thank for that. This UN Women movement, endorsed by Emma Watson and Justin Trudeau, aims to consciously engage men and boys in a fight that was traditionally thought of as "a woman's matter” (pwc n.d).

The United States of America, Mexico and the United Kingdom are among the leading countries in the world in terms of contributions and contributions to join the cause.

2. #ASLIceBucketChallenge

Who doesn't remember the happy summer of 2014, when Facebook's news streams were all over the place, overflowing with people with ice and water flowing over their heads?

In the UK, one in six people engaged in the ice bucket challenge, which allowed people to nominate their mates to grab the baton to keep the momentum rolling (ALS Association 2019).

Turns out those much-mocked Ice Bucket Challenge videos helped do a lot of good. Two summers ago, the challenge, designed to raise money for research into amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, took the internet by storm. Supporters ended up raising over $115 million for the A.L.S (Rogers 2016).

3. #BlackLivesMatter

Black Lives Matter is a decentralized political and social movement promoting non-violent civil resistance in protest of police brutality and other race based abuse towards African-Americans (Anderson 2016).

With its roots in an emotional Facebook post, after the killing of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin in 2012, this hashtag has sparked a civil rights campaign that would transform the face of the United States. There are currently more than 26 chapters of Black Lives Matter across the United States (Calderwood and Hales 2019).

The campaign is fueled by sorrow at the nearly infinite flood of wrongful deaths; anger at institutionalized racism; indignation at the consistent lack of fair treatment for all African-Americans.

How Protests Become Successful Social Movements

While hashtags used for activism are capable of educating and gaining people's interest and mobilizing as many people as possible, they should understand the implications of posting such content and what is acceptable for posting. Activists are urged to devote their time developing and revealing less divisive knowledge and to help people understand about the root causes of the crisis.

Still, protests such as the huge Black lives matter march that took place earlier this year, while vital to the development of transformational reform, is only the first step. There are obvious reasons that some campaigns languish and die away while others flourish, and protesters need to take the lessons of history to heart (PND 2018). In order to make a meaningful difference, the campaign needs to follow these five golden steps:

Step 1: Define the change you want to see

Defining change obviously is a recurring trend for popular campaigns. Gandhi decided to be independent of the British. The Civil Rights Movement required concrete laws to be enacted. The color revolutions required a change in government. This were both concrete targets that could construct a plan around them (Gribbin 2017).

Step 2: Shift the spectrum of allies

When you have specifically identified the improvement that you want to make, you need to start looking at the spectrum of allies. Find out that you should expect active or passive support from and provide neutrality at best — or, at worst, active or passive resistance. As Sun Tzu wrote, "Know yourself, know your opponent, and know the landscape." The terrain is a continuum of allies (abc news 2018).

Step 3: Identify the pillars of power

While it is vital to attract supporters from up and down the continuum of funding, it is also important to recognize the organizations that have the ability to bring about the reform you want. These "pillars of influence" can include the police, the media, the school system, government departments, or other organisations. As vital as public support is to the cause, nothing is going to improve without structural support (Popovic and Satell 2017) .

Step 4: Seek to attract, not to overpower

Every campaign is trying to fix any inequality, so it's easy to slip into the pit of demonizing the other side. And this is when a lot of movements fall off the rails. Anger is an effective mobilizing force, but anger without hope is a crippling force. You ought to have an affirmative argument for affirmative tactics ( Mongiello 2016 ).

Step 5: Build a plan to survive victory

Ironically, one of the most dangerous phases of the revolt is just after victory has been won. In Ukraine's 2004 Orange Revolution, the incoming team was unable to establish a single, efficient administration, and soon the nation reverted to anarchy. Secular demonstrators succeeded in Egypt in 2011, but the subsequent elections were won by the Muslim Brotherhood (Popovic et al 2017)

In conclusion, it is crucial not to associate the call for reform with the ideals that the campaign aims to embody. Only because you win an election or have a policy approved and financed doesn't mean it's time to claim victory. In fact, it is at this stage that you need to reinforce relationships and renew the commitment of each stakeholder to what has generated progress in the first place.

References

abc, 2018. 'No-One Is Listening': Tens Of Thousands Mark Invasion Day With Protests. Abc.net.au. viewed 22nd October<https://www.abc.net.au/new s/2018-01-26/invasion-day-protests-in-melbourne-and-sydney/9364940>

ALS Association, 2019. Ice Bucket Challenge Dramatically Accelerated The Fight Against ALS. The ALS Association. viewed 22nd October <https://www.als.org/stories-news/ice-bucket-challenge-dramatically-accelerated-fight-against-als>

Anderson, 2016. History Of The Hashtag #Blacklivesmatter: Social Activism On Twitter. Pew Research Center: Internet, Science & Tech. viewed 22nd October <https://www.pewresearch.org/internet/2016/08/15/the-hashtag-blacklivesmatter-emerges-social-activism-on-twitter/>

Gribbin, 2017. Hanson Insists She Can Hold One Nation Together. viewed 22nd October <https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-01-30/pauline-hanson-vows-to-prevent-one-nation-fragmenting/8220196>

Mongiello, 2016. Repository.upenn. viewed 22nd October du<https://reposito ry.up enn.edu/cgi /viewcontent.cgi?article=4267&context=edissertations>

Pew Research Center: Internet, Science & Tech. 2018. Activism In The Social Media Age. viewed 22nd October <https://www.pewresearch.org/internet/ 2018/07/11/public-attitudes-toward-political-engagement-on-social-media/>

pnd, 2018. How Change Happens: Why Some Social Movements Succeed While Others Don't, Philanthropy News Digest (PND). viewed 22nd October <https://philanthropynewsdigest.org/off-the-shelf/how-change-happens-why-some-social-movements-succeed-while-others-don-t>

Popovic and Satell, 2017. 8 Massive Moments Hashtag Activism Really, Really Worked. Global Citizen. viewed 22nd October <https://www.globalcitizen. org /en/content/hashtag-activism-hashtag10-twitter-trends-dresslik/>

pws, n.d. Pwc Proudly Backs Heforshe. PwC. viewed 22nd October <https://www.pwc.com/gx/en/about/diversity/he-for-she.html>+

Rogers, K., 2016. The ‘Ice Bucket Challenge’ Helped Scientists Discover A New Gene Tied To A.L.S. (Published 2016). Nytimes.com. viewed 22nd October <https://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/28/health/the-ice-bucket-challenge-helped-scientists-discover-a-new-gene-tied-to-als.html#:~:text=It %20turns%20out%20t hose%20much,%24115%20million%20for%20the%20A.L.S.>

#digital communication #swinburne university of technology #mda20009 #week6

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all-my-novels · 5 years

Text

send me a prompt + a ship and i’ll write something

it might be a drabble, a snippet, or even a full on oneshot, who knows? but it’ll be something. i really wanna write family/pregnancy stuff so that’s what we’re doing tonight. fandoms i’ll do this for are danganronpa only right now because that’s what i’m craving. send any ship from trigger happy havoc, sdr2, ndrv3, or dr3 the anime. doing as many as i can! there’s a shit ton of prompts so click the read more. i’ll do any ship as long as it isn’t tenko with men, cis mpreg (trans mpreg is fine), incest, or pedophilia. also no haiji ew.

prompts

Person A is lounging on the couch on Father’s Day when Person B approaches and hands them a card. A is confused, as they don’t have kids yet, until they open it and see a picture of B holding a positive pregnancy test/adoption papers/etc. How they react is up to you!

Person A and B are engaged to be married and have decided that they want children in the future but want to wait for a while until after the wedding to try for them. They have a night alone before the big day and forget about it until their honeymoon when Person B is extremely tired the whole time and discovers that they’re expecting on the last day to the surprise of them and Person A.

Person A and B are trying for a child with no success and begin to lose hope. One day Person B, after feeling dizziness coupled with a headache at work, visits their doctor and discovers that they are finally expecting, much to the joy of both them and Person A.

Imagine person A of your OTP telling person B they are pregnant in the form of a baby-themed Christmas ornament.

Imagine your OTP recently had a baby (Person A being the bearer) and they finally have some time to be intimate. Person A is very insecure about the way their body has changed from the pregnancy, and Person B shows them through slow, passionate sex how they’re still beautiful.

Person A and Person B are getting married/renewing their vows. They’ve written their own vows. When it’s B’s turn, Person B admits that B is pregnant.

Imagine your OTP is living in a cheap studio apartment, struggling to get by, and then Person A finds out they’re pregnant…

Imagine Person A of your OTP is lightly pregnant. They’re terrified of telling B for some reason. Then when they finally tell B, B hugs and coddles them, saying how happy they are.

Seven months later, A is lethargically laying on the couch eating. Nothing but their cravings for a loooooong month until B gets sick and tired of A’s crap, and forces them to eat one of each food group.

Imagine your OTP has recently gotten married, but are not ready for kids. Around the same time, a close friend of theirs announces they’re pregnant. Nine months later, when said friend gives birth, your OTP is there with them. After the baby is born and they go home, Person A says, “Wow. That was intense. I’m glad we aren’t having kids for a while.” Person B (awkwardly) has to announce that they just found out that they’re pregnant. How Person A reacts is up to you.

Person A goes to Person B’s older sibling and tells them that they are pregnant and they are afraid of what Person B will think once their pregnancy progresses. During their conversation, Person B eavesdrops. What happens after is entirely up to you.

Imagine your OTP as high schoolers. Person A finding out they’ve impregnated Person B.

Imagine Person A and Person B are in Person A’s bedroom alone together. Person A admits that they are pregnant and Person B is overjoyed, while Person A’s family is secretly listening on the other side of the door.

Imagine Person B of your OTP noticing that person A seems very distracted/down/perhaps even a little sick looking lately but person A keeps brushing off B’s questions and concerns until they are dancing at some fancy event and suddenly A comes clean about being pregnant with B’s baby and the dance just freezes as the reality of being parents sink in. Further reactions are up to you.

Both A and B of your OT3 are pregnant. They lie on C as a pillow.

Imagine person A of your OTP is really sick suddenly. Person B then drives them to the doctor and the doctor diagnosis it as morning sickness, because A is pregnant.

Person A is sitting in a dim hospital room with their newborn. Person B [and C] comes in after getting rid of all the visitors, and they have their first peaceful moment as a family.

Imagine your OTP arguing over whose hair color they think their baby will get.

Imagine Person A of your OTP finding out they’re pregnant on them and Person B’s wedding night.

Imagine Person A finds out they’re expecting Person B’s child. They’re afraid to tell B, not really sure how they’ll react to the news. When they do finally work up the courage to break the news, Person B freaks out–but not in the negative way that Person A was worried about. Instead, a dazed A finds themself being smothered in hugs and kisses, and bombarded with excited questions about the baby.

Imagine one of your OTP+s with at least one male member. Now imagine that your OTP+ is about to have a baby (through whatever means), and the male member(s) start freaking out about the idea of raising a little girl.

Imagine Person A putting their head on Person B’s very pregnant belly, overjoyed at how they’re going to become a parent. Then the baby kicks A in the face.

Imagine person A is pregnant and grumpy. Person B offers to let A use them as a pillow.

Imagine person A of your OTP is 6 months pregnant and they’re craving cake, so they wake up person B (and C if OT3) at 2 am and force them to bake with/for them.

Imagine that Person A is heavily pregnant and is laying on the couch. Person B comes and gives A a smooch on their belly, but at the exact spot and time where they kiss, the baby gives a huge kick. B is a little thrown off but they laugh and say, “That little shit just kicked me in the mouth!”

Imagine person A giving birth, and squeezing B’s hand so hard they actually break it. Afterwards, your OTP’s friends all want to see the baby, but B insists that someone signs their cast. Person C gives in and affectionately writes, “God made the river, God made the lakes, God made person B, well we all make mistakes.”, which person A finds hilarious.

Imagine your OT3. A & B have had a child together, and so have A & C. Now B & C want to have a baby, and they argue about who should carry it.

Person A is pregnant and is trying to get Person B to talk to the baby; Person B feels self-conscious, silly, ridiculous, etc. talking to A’s belly, and at first begins speaking jokingly, but soon gets very involved. Bonus points if A gets emotional.

Imagine Person A of your OTP is pregnant and hasn’t yet told Person B. One day, A and B are doing something together, when B suddenly says “I know about the baby”. You choose what happens next.

Imagine Person A of your OTP is pregnant, and Person B has begun a habit of talking to A’s stomach, from telling stories to bad jokes. A lot. Whether Person A finds it cute or is incredibly annoyed is up to you.

Imagine your OTP/OT3 having recently had their first child. Person A was the one to carry and give birth to the baby, and they are self-conscious about their stretchmarks, loose skin, extra weight etc. Person B (and C) try to cheer Person A up and make them love their body again.

Imagine person A of your OTP is pregnant and having to put up with some kicks and squirms from the baby which are rather bothersome to A. B then sings to the baby which seems to calm it down or rather lull it to sleep.

Imagine Person A of your OTP just found out they’re pregnant. Now imagine them coming up with a creative way to tell Person B (like putting a hot dog bun in their oven). Bonus: B misunderstands hilariously.

Imagine your OTP/OT3 has just started trying to have children. They’ve been unsuccessful so far but then one day in the mail they start getting ads for baby supplies. It turns out person A is indeed pregnant.

Imagine Muse A of your OTP is pregant. Muse A complains to Muse B that they can’t get any sleep because the baby has been kicking Muse A nonstop since last night. So, Muse B gathers Muse A in their arms, sits them on their lap, and rubs Muse A’s stomach to help them feel better.

Imagine your OTP had a baby, and decide to try for another. They’re happy to discover they’re pregnant, but then later find out it’s not just one baby or two. It’s triplets!

Imagine your OTP running a bakery. Muse A starts to put on weight and assumes its down to eating the cakes/things they sell in the bakery. They start to lay off of the sweet things and work out regularly. However nothing happens. One day whilst talking about the situation, Muse B jokes ‘Maybe you’re pregnant’ and realisation hits Muse A.

Imagine that Person A is pregnant, but they aren’t sure how to tell Person B. Then, when the two of them are having a cute/romantic moment, Person A hugs B and buries their face into B’s chest and whispers “You’re going to be a great parent.”

Imagine your OTP trying to figure out a fun way to break the news that they’re pregnant to their families.

Imagine Person A of your OTP being the absolute last in their social circle to find out that B is several months pregnant.

Imagine Person A of your OTP is pregnant and showing a lot more than they thought they would - Perhaps thinking they dated the pregnancy wrong. Next ultrasound, they find out the reason: They’re not having one, not two, but three! Person A is shocked, wondering how they’re going to tell Person B. (OT3 Bonus: Person C is with them on the visit and is just plain excited.)

Imagine Person A refuses alcohol at some sort of party, leading to the other party goers to speculate that they’re pregnant. However, person A denies that, saying that they’re B’s (and more, if you’ve got an OTP+) designated driver.

Bonus: A later reveals to B that they are indeed pregnant.

Imagine your OTP’s first child being born on their anniversary.

Imagine your OTP(+)’s reaction to them finding out they’re pregnant with twins.

Imagine one of your OT3 gets pregnant after a drunken threesome. They decide to have the baby and raise it together. A year or two later, after many ups and downs, one of them has the idea of having a second child. The one who had the baby says “That’s a terrible idea. Let’s do it.”

Imagine that Person B of your OT3 is expecting. The three have decided to keep the other parent’s identity a surprise for after the birth. In the meantime, Persons A and C make a bet: the one who turns out to be the other parent will receive a certain amount of money (or whatever else you want) from the other person. Person B is either annoyed or amused by their antics.

Imagine your OTP painting the nursery for their first child, and then getting into a mini paint fight that includes painting a cute picture on the baby bump.

Imagine that Person A of your OT3 is pregnant by Person B. Person A is getting ridiculous morning sickness and being ridiculously clingy towards Person C yet not remotely towards Person B, because it’s Person B’s fault that they can hardly keep a meal down or lie down comfortably, and so Person B needs to be punished accordingly.

Imagine person A of your OTP has a very overprotective older brother. So when person A starts dating B, person A has to assure their brother that nothing is going to go wrong. Unfortunately, person B gets person A pregnant, and then they get a mandatory shotgun wedding.

Imagine Person A (and Person C) going out shopping. They find cute tops/bottoms and begin looking through the stacks. Person B comes along to find Person A (and C) looking at the clothes and they ask something along the lines of “Are you trying to tell me something?” Turns out, Person A (and C) were looking maternity clothes! Continue from here.

Imagine your OTP(3) out shopping for maternity clothes for a pregnant Person A. Eventually, they realize that they’re not overly impressed with the clothing options available at whatever stores they’ve been in, and so B (and C) decide to put their sewing skills to work and make some homemade maternity clothes for A.

Bonus points if they argue over things like colors, prints, materials, etc. when fitting and measuring for the new clothes.

Your OTP has been trying for months to get pregnant. Imagine person A finding out they’re pregnant while person B is at work. They want to share the news with person B in a fun and creative way.

Imagine person A of your OTP/3 asking their partner(s) questions like if they have enough money, room, or time for a baby. When they get told no, Person A hesitates, then reveals a positive pregnancy test. How the other(s) react is up to you.

Imagine Person A is pregnant and playing with Person B’s hair as Person B kisses their tummy.

Imagine your OT3 deciding to have a baby. How will they do it?

Imagine your OT3 trying to figure out if B is expecting A or C’s child.

Your OTP have a baby, and after much discussion and research decide to breastfeed. The new family go out somewhere together, and at some point, the baby needs to be fed. A bystander begins to yell at Person A for being indecent, and Person B/C proceed to defend Person A and put the bystander in their place.

Imagine your OTP is either expecting or adopting an infant, and a baby shower is thrown for them. Person A’s favorite gift is a large diaper bang printed with little ducks.

Person A of your OTP finds out they’re pregnant, and they (and the other member/s) are absolutely thrilled… until their doctor gives them a laundry list of things they cannot eat or drink for the duration of the pregnancy. The other member/s of the pairing decide to forgo everything on that list as a display of solidarity with Person A because, hey, it’s their kid, too.

Imagine your OTP has a little banter about the look of their future child.

Imagine your OTP’s first attempt at feeding their child baby food, and the gigantic mess that results.

Imagine Person A of your OTP getting pregnant even though they were on the pill (or some other form of birth control.) They and the (un?)lucky other parent take a look at the container it comes in and find that it has expired! How do they react?

Imagine that person A of your OTP is heavily pregnant and feels awkward and insecure. It completely puzzles them that person B seems to find them sexier than ever and can’t keep their hands off them.

Imagine your OTP painting the nursery room together.

Imagine your OTP being the Tooth Fairy for the first time for their child.

Imagine Person A of your OTP being heavily pregnant and in constant need of Person B’s help to stand up from sitting or lying down. Person A is disgruntled at their helplessness, while Person B just smiles and is always ready to help.

Imagine that Person A is pregnant and ends up giving birth in the most awkward place/time you can think up.

Imagine that Person A is having morning sickness. What does Person B do about it?

Imagine your OTP playfully fighting over baby names.

Imagine that Person B is holding Person A’s hand during childbirth, and Person A nearly (or does) break Person B’s hand.

Imagine your OTP teaching their daughters that they are strong, capable, deserving, and more than objects to be used.

Imagine that somehow, both Person A and Person B are pregnant. At the same time. (And they have the babies at the same time.) OT3: Person C now has to look after both of their hormonal partners. (Hilarity ensues.)

Imagine your OTP finding out that the condom broke.

Imagine your OTP teaching their young child or children to catch fireflies on a summer evening.

Imagine that Person A is in labor and for whatever reason is having the baby at home. The midwife/doctor/whatever won’t arrive for a while, so Person B stays right beside Person A and holds their hand. OT3 Bonus: Person C rubs Person A’s back.

Imagine your OTP finding out they’re going to be parents for the first time.

Imagine Person A of your OTP getting married to Person B. Person A’s baby bump is noticeable through the dress (or tuxedo if you’re into M-preg) and after Person A and B have their kiss, Person B kisses the baby bump.

Imagine that both people of your OTP (or all three if OT3) are pregnant. Hilarity ensues.

Imagine your OTP looking at baby names, in books or websites. Person A chooses some of the most ridiculous names they could find (either to make Person B laugh, or they seriously like them?).

Imagine that Person A of your OTP is pregnant and isn’t sure whether or not Person B will be happy about the news.

However, when Person B is told about it, they start to get excited about the baby and immediately hug Person A, and the rest of the day is just the two of them discussing baby names all while Person B is rubbing and talking to Person A’s stomach.

Imagine person A of your OTP finding out they’re expecting. They try to think of all these adorably clever ways to let person B know but, when they try to drop the hint, it flies right over person B’s head. Person A tries a few more times before basically giving up and coming right out about it.

Imagine your OTP finding out they are having a baby, and fighting over what to name it. When they find out the sex of the baby, they look at each other and instantly know what the name will be.

Imagine Person A of your OTP is pregnant and goes into labor at a very inopportune place or moment.

Imagine Person A is pregnant and has the pregnant symptoms of mood swings, odd cravings, and an extra dose of hornyness. How does Person B keep up with A’s changes and keep them satisfied?

Imagine Person A of your OTP very, very pregnant and quite uncomfortable all the time, bossing around Person B.

Imagine Person A of your OTP noticing what might be pregnancy signs in Person B, but B’s completely oblivious to their own changes. Meanwhile, Person A enjoys teasing them until they start to catch on that there might be a bun in their oven!

“Let’s make a baby”

“I’d be a terrible mother”

“You’re on the pill, right?”

“I need to buy a pregnancy test”

“It’s positive”

“I’m going to be a father/mother?”

“Who’s the father/other mother?”

“But we used a condom”

“Are you going to find out the sex?”

“I can’t see my feet”

“That’s my baby in there”

“Have you thought about names yet?”

“Are you planning on raising this baby on your own?”

“It’s twins”

“The baby’s kicking”

“The baby’s coming”

“Push”

“So I took six tests… they’re all (positive/negative).”

“You took six tests and they’re all (positive/negative).”

“I’m pregnant… and I haven’t told (father’s/other mother’s name).”

“I know your pregnant, have you told (father’s/other mother’s name).”

“Ever since we found out about the baby, our sex life has died.”

“Ever since we found out about the baby our sex life has increased.”

“I swear if I could stay pregnant all the time I would.”

“I swear if I could have you stay pregnant all the time I would.”

“(I’ve/you’ve) gotten so horny ever since (I/you) got pregnant…”

“Baby, I know you’re pregnant, but can you please leave some pillows for me?”

“Do you even know who the father/other mother is?”

“I don’t want to know who the father/other mother is.”

1. “We’re going to be parents!“

 2. “Did you feel him/her/them kick!?”

 3. “Do you want to feel the baby?”

 4. “I’m pregnant…and it’s yours.”

 5. “Do you think I’ll make a good mother/father?“

 6. “What are you hoping for?”

 7. “I feel so nauseous today…”

 8. “What should we name him/her/them?”

 9. “How many diapers do you think we’ll need?”

 10. “No I’m not crying over a puppy.”

 11. “Is just strawberry okay? They didn’t have strawberries and cream.”

12. “I’ve read this book four times I’m basically an expert by now.”

 13. “Boy or girl?”

 14. “Wait, do we have everything on this list I found?”

 15. “Can you put the crib together? I’m so tired.”

 16. “This kid can come out anytime it’s ready.”

 17. “Do you think I’m glowing?”

 18. “How long till I’m due?”

 19. “Please don’t freak out…but I’m pregnant. I SAID DON’T FREAK OUT.”

 20. “Hospital. Now!”

 21. “I think that was a contraction…”

 22. “The due date’s not until next week!”

23. “I’m scared something bad will happen.”

24. “So I’ve been to the doctors recently and I’m pregnant.”

25. “Do we have any bacon left? I want bacon.”

26. “Why do I cry over everything?”

27. “I can’t wait for this baby to be born, then I can have a relax and we will have our baby.”

28. “I have to go for some maternity wear.”

29. “I’m too big. I have a massive bump.”

30. “You think I look beautiful?”

31. “This backache hurts.”

32. “I’ll be on the toilet for hours don’t let anyone come in.”

33. “People keep touching my bump. I don’t like it.”

34. “Do I repulse you? You haven’t touched me in weeks.”

35. “When can I have sex again?”

36. “Why can’t I walk properly? I have to walk with this pregnant waddle it’s not so satisfying.”

37. “I’m seriously considering strangling you for this but I’m in too much pain.”

38. “I’m having trouble sleeping, I don’t need you snoring which keeps me awake and makes me want to hit you.”

39. “I can’t see my feet, so you will have to wash my feet.”

40. “I’m eating for two, so don’t complain that I eat loads of food.”

41. “People keep saying rude things and I hate it.”

42. “I’m going to be breastfeeding.”

43. “My excuse for eating more food is that I am pregnant. What’s yours?”

44. “Did I ask for your comment?”

45. “Are you an authority on pregnant women and size?”

46. “Well, obviously you haven’t been around many pregnant women or you’d know much more about pregnancy etiquette.”

47. “Yeah, and I’m about to have a cow because you have so much insensitivity.”

48. “That’s rude, and it hurts my feelings. I’d rather you just sit there in silence than slam my self-esteem.”

49. “I hope we are having a boy/girl.”

50. “This baby is overdue, I need a curry or sex to get the baby out.”

51. “I want pickles, bacon and cheese. I want them now.”

52. “Can I get some ice cream please?”

53. “Did you by some more ginger ale?”

54. “Yes, I’m huge but if you remind me one more time, I’m going to eat you!”

55. “I’m posting my ultrasound on Facebook whether you like it or not!”

56. “My sweat pants are the only thing that fit me and they make me comfortable!”

57. “Honey, please fix me an M&M cookie and peanut butter and bacon sandwich!”

58. “I have to pee. I don’t care, I’m going again!”

59. “Yes I am still pregnant.”

“I’ve looked up things about your symptoms.. Are you pregnant?”

“You.. You’re pregnant?!”

“I’m gonna be a dad/mama.. I’m going to be a dad/mama!”

“I would never leave you.. I’m so excited for this baby.”

“As the aunt/uncle of this baby, it is my right to spoil it.”

“___ You two are not ready to have a baby, I can’t believe it.”

“Who’s the spawn of satan? You are!”

“Either that was a really bad cramp, or I’m having contractions.”

“Don’t be mad at me but… I think I might be pregnant..”

“You know how you said you’ve always wanted a family? Well.. now we have that chance. I’m pregnant!”

“The protection didn’t work, okay?! Now we’re having a baby!”

“We.. We can’t have a baby! Are you kidding me?!”

“Look at him/her.. She’s perfect.”

“If that stupid doctor tells me one more hour, i’m going to kill them!”

“Well I think you just broke my hand..”

“He left me when I told him…”

“What about adoption?”

“I went to the doctor.. and… well.. I don’t know how to say this..”

“That one night stand was the biggest mistake of our lives..”

“I’m pregnant and I have no idea who the father/mother is.”

“I’m scared, ____! I don’t know how to raise a baby!”

“The baby kicked!”

“It’s really hard to cuddle with you when i’m this fat..”

“I’m so helpless and fat, I hate being pregnant.”

“For the last time, you’re not fat. You’re pregnant.”

“I hate you for doing this to me..”

“You’re in labor?!”

“You alright? Is something wrong with the baby?”

“Shit.. hospital.. hospital now..!”

“It’s a boy/girl.”

“I want to name them ______”

i’m pregnant. ”

“ i’m pregnant and it’s yours. ”

“ why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant. ”

“ are you pregnant? ”

“ i need to tell you something. ”

“ i have money for abortion. ”

“ how much is an abortion? ”

“ maybe we can put it up for adoption? ”

“ i didn’t ask for this to happen. ”

“ what are we going to do? ”

“ i think i’m pregnant. ”

“ didn’t you use a condom? ”

“ i’m not on birth control. ”

“ it’s definitely yours, i’m not like that. ”

“ i don’t know who’s it is! ”

“ are you really pregnant? ”

“ congratulations on your pregnancy! ”

“ how far long are you? ”

“ it’s too late for abortion, i’m sorry. ”

“ so who is the babydaddy? ”

“ how does it feel to you know be pregnant and all? ”

“ are you going to keep it? ”

“ do you want to keep it? ”

“ did you tell anyone else about it? ”

“ we can raise it. ”

“ we can keep it. ”

“ i am not going through with this. ”

“ what are the options? ”

“ what did the pregnancy test come back as? ”

“ i need a pregnancy test. ”

“ i took a test. a pregnancy test. ”

“ did you get the test yet? ”

“ get more than one test, too. ”

“ it is yours! just as much as it is mine! ”

“ i’m pregnant and your going to help me. ”

“ i don’t want to tell anyone until i’m twelve weeks. past the risk for miscarriage. ”

“ i’m so sorry this happened. ”

“ this pregnancy is going to kill me. ”

“ i’m ready to give birth already. ”

“ how much does a pregnancy test cost? ”

“ can you still get pregnant on the pill? ”

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother/father!”

“We’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Do you want to feel the baby kick?”

“Give me your hand so you can feel it, too”

“We have to finish the nursery. There’s only two weeks left.”

“Have we bought everything on the baby list?”

“I can’t wait to finally hold it”

“You’re glowing!”

“There is something I have to tell you…”

“Hello little one, this is your daddy speaking..”

“I think it likes me touching your belly.”

“I can feel it kick!”

“My back aches and I want ice cream.”

“I can’t hide my bump any longer. I think we need to tell people.”

“I heard the heart beat for the first time.”

“Do you want to see an ultrasound picture?”

“You’re going to be an amazing mom/dad!”

“What would you say about adding one more? The house is big enough.”

“I think my water just broke…”

“Do you think it’s contractions?”

“Call the midwife, this is not a false alarm.”

“I think it’s too late to drive to the hospital, the baby is coming NOW.”

“I’m not ready for a baby.”

“How are we going to keep our family safe?”

“I don’t know how to be a mother/father.”

“I can’t even keep a cactus alive, let alone a human baby.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what now?”

“You’ve been having some weird cravings lately..”

“You’re going to me a father.”

“Uh babe, what’s with all of those pregnancy tests?”

“No way.. this test has to be wrong. Let me try another one.”

“The baby is yours.”

“What do you mean the baby is mine!?”

“The baby isn’t yours.”

“What do you mean the baby isn’t mine?!”

“You’re having someone else’s baby?! You’ve been cheating on me?”

“Surprise! I’m having a baby!”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“Oh my gosh! You’re pregnant? I’m so happy!”

“I’m going to be a father!”

“I’m going to be a mother!”

“I thought you would be happier to hear the news..”

“It’s our baby not just mine! You can’t leave me like this!”

“Our baby needs you too.”

“Come feel, the baby’s kicking.”

“Congratulations!”

“Do you want to come with me to the ultrasound?”

“We’re going to be parents. This is amazing!”

“Are you crying?”

“I am, it’s just that.. I’m just so happy! We’re going to have a child”

“We have so much to do! So much to plan.”

“I’m having twins/triplets/quadruplets/etc.”

“This was so unplanned. How are we going to do this?”

“Surprise baby shower!”

“I think the baby is coming.”

“My water broke.”

“What?! Now?”

“I wanna hold my baby!”

“Is the baby okay?”

“He/she has your eyes, _”

“He’s/She’s beautiful.”

“I can’t believe it. We’re parents of this little bundle of joy.”

little things (fluffy)

“You’re glowing.”

“Am I showing yet?”

“Is it too early to pick names?”

“Turn to the side, I think your belly popped out.”

“No one is going to judge you for wearing Uggs all day.”

“Was that a kick?”

“Should we find out the gender or wait?”

“It’s a (boy/girl/twins/etc)”

uncomfortable situations (clean)

“I pray for the day the morning sickness passes.”

“Are you sure you need two gallons of ice cream?”

“I don’t even like jalapenos.”

“You just be glad I don’t mind rubbing feet.

“I know the body pillow is bulky but it’s the only way I can sleep.”

“No, sweetheart, I don’t think you can still fit in your favorite jeans.”

“Stop laughing and help me off the toilet/out of the bathtub/put on my shoes/etc.”

“I slept on the couch because you and junior took up the whole bed.”

“Listen, when you have a tiny human being kicking you in the bladder, you can decide when we stop to pee. Now pull over.”

really uncomfortable situations (dirty)

“I need you right now. I blame the hormones.”

“You look so sexy since your belly popped out.”

“Look, I’m just gonna lie on my side and you can do whatever.”

“Fuck, I don’t know if it’s the increased bloodflow but that feels good.”

“No, you can’t poke the baby in the head if we have sex.”

“It turns me on so much knowing that’s my kid in there.”

“They say sex induces labor you know.”

the big event (mix)

“I think that was a contraction.”

“No, we are not stopping at the drive-thru on the way to the hospital.”

“I don’t care how much I scream, I want to do this naturally.”

“That was the midwife, she’s on her way.”

“I think you broke my hand…”

“I don’t think we have time to get to the hospital…”

“This is happening right now.”

“My/your water just broke.”

“I’m scared to push!”

“There’s nothing to be scared of, now PUSH!”

the reward (fluffy)

“I thought we were having a (boy/girl) but he/she had other plans.”

“He/she has your nose…”

“I always thought babies were ugly, but ours is beautiful.”

“Look what we made…”

“You just rest, I’ll make sure everything’s ready for when we get home.”

“You’d be pissed too if you just got forcibly evicted in such a fashion.”

“I’m/you’re/we’re pregnant!”

“I took six tests, and they all came out positive.”

“This isn’t a stomach flu, I/you ought to take a test.”

“I only took the test as a joke! I didn’t think it would turn out positive!”

“Okay, I know we both took the test, but now I don’t remember which one is which. One of us is pregnant.”

“Dude I bet you $50 you’re pregnant.”

“You’ve been too nice for too long, I think you’re pregnant.”

“You’re right, I am pregnant!”

“I can’t believe you knew I’m pregnant before I did!”

“Are you sure you’re only having one baby?”

“The Doctor said we’re having ______.”

“I found this pregnancy test in the trash.. Somebody we know is pregnant!”

the mother’s pov :

❝Do you want to feel the baby kick?❞

❝I’m eating for two, so let’s go grab some grub.❞

❝I’m… pregnant… and it’s yours.❞

❝We need to talk, I need to tell you something..❞

❝I’m too far along for an abortion.❞

❝I need to know… if you love me, if you love us..❞

❝It’s your baby I’m carrying…❞

❝I want to find out the gender with you there.❞

❝I’m so lucky to have you by side during this pregnancy.❞

❝I wouldn’t want anyone else by side during this pregnancy.❞

❝Do you feel that? It’s the baby… it’s kicking.❞

❝I’m pregnant, I can’t act like a child anymore.❞

❝I’m pregnant, not incapable.❞

❝I’m sorry you’ve had deal with my pregnancy hormones lately…❞

❝I just wanted to wait to tell you, I wanted to know for sure I was keeping it.❞

❝I’m not sure what to do anymore but it is your baby…❞

❝This is just as much as your baby as it is mine.❞

❝People have told me I’m glowing lately and I know why…❞

❝I’m ready to be mom! More than what you think!❞

❝I will be a great mother to my child, unlike you!❞

❝This is my decision! Not yours!❞

the father’s pov :

❝How far along are you? When did you find out?❞

❝Well, that’s great news! Isn’t it? I think so.❞

❝Wait, are you telling me, its my baby?❞

❝Well, how do you know its my baby?❞

❝You’re carrying my child?! That’s great news!❞

❝I love you and I’m ready to be a parent with you.❞

❝I wouldn’t want a baby with anyone else other than you.❞

❝How long have you known? Have you told anyone else yet?❞

❝Well, I’ll get a job and help support you and our baby.❞

❝Hey… don’t worry so much, okay? We can raise it.❞

❝It’s going to be okay, we can do this.❞

❝I have the perfect plan for you, me and our baby… a good plan.❞

❝I was thinking… since you’re pregnant and all, would you marry me?❞

❝I love you so much, that’s great news after the day I had.❞

❝As long as we’re happy, as long as the baby is happy.❞

❝I’m not abandoning you or my baby!❞

❝I’m not walking out on my kid like my parents did.❞

❝I’m going to be here for you and our baby.❞

❝Why would you want that for our baby? You’re talking nonsense.❞

❝I’m ready to be a father and you’ll make the best mother.❞

❝I have never felt so lucky!❞

❝This baby is a blessing and probably saved my life.❞

❝Did you hear? I’m going to be a dad!❞

❝I’m going to officially be a dad in a few months!❞

❝I’ll be a much better dad than you ever were to me that’s for sure.❞

❝My girlfriend is pregnant and she’s keeping it and I want her to keep it.❞

❝Don’t tell me anything about being a dad when you never were one for me!❞

❝Are you serious?! You’re pregnant?! That’s amazing, baby!❞

❝Well, do you need anything? Anything at all?❞

❝What? Something wrong with the baby?❞

❝I just want to keep you and our babt safe and happy.❞

❝I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now!❞

“I’ve never had a child before…”

“How about ______ for a name?”

“Does it hurt?”

“You need to rest.”

“Let me look after you!”

“You’re huge!”

“I want to feel it kick.”

“Can I feel the bump?”

“Come quick! The baby’s kicking!”

“How many months along are you?”

“Y-You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“The baby is yours.”

“You’re beautiful, stretchmarks and all.”

“We’ll be okay, all three of us.”

“I’m so scared…”

“I love you more than I ever thought possible. Both of you.”

“These cravings of yours are getting out of hand…”

“I’m pregnant. What’s your excuse?”

“I don’t… I don’t feel well.”

“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“If you hold my hand any tighter, it’s gonna break!”

“I hate you for doing this to me!”

“I look like a whale.”

“So I guess it’s true. Pregnancy does make you horny.”

“We’re having twins!”

“Oh God, what if the baby is like us?”

“It’s a surprise, but it’s a happy surprise, right?”

“I thought birth was only suppose to be painful for the mother!”

“How could I be a good parent when the only example I could learn from were my own?”

“Will you be my baby’s Godmother/Godfather?”

“I know nothing about parenting.”

“I can’t wait for the baby shower!”

“We need to marry before the baby is born. You know how traditional my family is.”

“…Your list of baby names is physically painful to listen to.”

“It’s kicking, it’s kicking!”

“Well? Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I could really do with a massage right about now…”

“Why don’t you want me at the birth?”

“I never thought you of all people would be the mother/father of my child.”

“Oh My God, my/your waters broken!”

“This world, this horrible, horrible world…Why would anyone in their right mind want to bring a child into it?”

“Stop pestering me about its gender. I’m keeping it a surprise!”

“Will you be with me for the birth?”

“Oh. I was hoping for a boy/girl…”

“What do you think of the name [insert name here]?”

“Morning sickness. I hate it.”

"I'm pregnant.."

"I'll just be in the bathroom throwing my fucking guts up because our unborn kid wants to be a dick.."

"You're pregnant?! How did this happen?! No, no, no, wait, don't tell me how it happened, never mind.."

"Happy Father's Day, babe!"

"Wait... you're having a what?!"

"There's someone I'd like you to meet.."

"Shh... he/she's sleeping.."

"Why couldn't YOU have been the one to get pregnant?! Why me?! The bad shit always happens to ME!"

"I have a special surprise for you. Close your eyes and follow me."

"He/She's killin' me, dude! When's he/she gonna come out?!"

"Oh, gosh, I felt it! I felt a kick!"

"Either what I just felt was a contraction or just a cramp... not really sure.."

"I am not getting rid of another life! How dare you even suggest that!"

"No, no, no, no, no, we aren't ready... we aren't ready for kids yet!"

“I wanna record the delivery.”

“I’m really scared of needles.”

“Since I’m due so close to [insert holiday], we should paint my belly like that.”

“Let’s do that belly cast thing!”

“The baby always moves when they hear your voice.”

“Little one’s getting cramped in there. Almost time to come out.”

“I’m excited to see my feet again.”

“I’m huge!”

“Come rub my belly!”

“The baby is moving, come and feel!”

“I think that was a real contraction.”

“It’s just more Braxton Hicks, don’t worry.”

“They don’t hurt, they’re just uncomfortable.”

“If you’re full term at 37 weeks, then why is pregnancy 40 weeks?”

“It is midnight on my due date and I am still pregnant.”

“You know due dates aren’t always right.”

“I don’t want the baby to be born on my birthday.”

“Come out, kid!”

“I’ve tried everything and they won’t come.”

“I can see it when the baby/ies moves! Wow!”

“Let’s get this stubborn little kid(s) out the same way we made him/her/them.”

“The baby/babies moving hurts now, it’s not cute anymore.”

“I am almost two weeks overdue. Proceed with caution.”

LABOR

“I can’t believe it’s already time.”

“Did you remember the bag?”

“My water didn’t break yet, don’t freak out.”

“I’ve been timing them and they’re consistent enough. Just gotta wait for them to get closer.”

“This is not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I’m pretty sure my water broke.”

“I am not accountable for anything I say, but I do apologize beforehand.”

“Transition is the worst part.”

“I’m gonna miss everything.”

“One last bump shot before the big event.”

“I made a birth plan.”

“Babies laugh at birth plans.”

“This is so boring. I thought labor was supposed to be nerve-wracking.”

“I’m sorry I’m so loud, but it helps.”

“You make as much noise as you want. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Ohhh! OOOOOOHHH! SHIIIIT!”

“Just breathe, you’re okay.”

“Is it too late to get an epidural?”

“Is the midwife on her way?”

“Can you set up the pool, please?”

“Fuck, it hurts!”

“I don’t wanna push on my back.”

“Hoo-hoo-hoo…”

“Make it stop!”

“I feel like I’m in a vice, but between them I’m fine.”

“I just want the baby safe.”

“Fuck breathing, you have the baby!”

BIRTH

“I feel so much pressure…”

“Oh, I think it’s go time.”

“I really need to push!”

“Get the camera, get the camera!”

“Don’t push yet, the doctor isn’t here.”

“What position do you wanna do this in?”

“I scared I won’t know how to push.”

“It’s instinct. You’ll know. I promise.”

“Only push when you have a contraction.”

“Grab behind your knees and bear down.”

“Don’t you dare laugh at the faces I make when I push.”

“Let gravity help, you’re doing great.”

“This position isn’t working. Let’s try something new.”

“Come on, push your baby out.”

“I’ve been pushing for [x amount of time], why isn’t it coming out?”

“My head feels like it’s gonna explode!”

“NNGH! HHNNNGGHH!”

“It burns!”

“Just a few more pushes, good job.”

“FUUUCCKK!”

“If you tell me ‘good job’ one more time, I will wring your neck!”

“Push, babe, push!”

“Shut up, I’m pushing!”

“I’m too tired, I can’t do it.”

“I have something to tell you…”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant!”

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

“You’re smart and successful with an adorable belly.”

“$50 bucks says it’s a girl/boy.”

“Pregnancy suits you…”

“Hello little one. We can’t wait to meet you…”

#danganronpa #dangan ronpa #pregnancy #pregnancy meme #pregnancy prompts #send me asks #please #i beg of you #ask meme #prompt #fic prompt #fanfiction #specify fandom #specify ship #specify character

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traincat · 5 years

Note

hey so im doing a speech on peter being jewish and im trying to explain the whole wit as a weapon and how its very jewish/integral to his character but i cant quite put it into words if that makes sense??? could u help at all w this

I can try! To be honest, “wit as a weapon” is something I’ve been using as a bit of shorthand for myself because while I’m very confident in this being something that is both integral to Peter as a character and very important when you look at the long history of Spider-Man’s Jewish coding, it is a concept that I find difficult to explain succintly. It’s something that I feel is so culturally ingrained deep in me that actually going into it feels daunting. I can recognize it, but I’m not sure how good I’ll be at articulating it. First, I think the idea of wit in and of itself being a superpower needs to be established, because if there is a Jewish superpower, it’s intelligence. This is not to say that All Jewish People Are Smart, but intelligence is something that is greatly culturally valued, and not just in the form of education: there’s a certain mental acuity and sharpness that you see in Jewish stories, be they historical accounts or folk tales. If you have this culture and religion with this history attached to it, of coming up against forces that greatly overpower you, you shift your focus: if you can’t overpower your enemy, you don’t surrender: you outwit them. And so that becomes the thing of value: quickness of wit, and the ability to use that to your favor and towards the protection of your people. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his genius intellect is the one power, so to speak, that exists in Peter before the spider’s bite. The superstrength, the agility, the durability, the spider-sense all come to him after that, but that intelligence within him is God given.

Then there’s another element in play here, which is wittiness as defined as someone being funny. Jewish humor is very verbal as opposed to being more slapstick; it’s very eloquent, very sarcastic. We like words and word games and finding the humor in twisting the logic within words. We like that sharpness. But the thing about funny is that funny gets misread. Funny gets underestimated. Funny, unless it’s straight up bleak humor the whole way down, gets falsely conflated with ‘not dangerous.’ You can use humor, especially humor associated with cultures that are often stereotyped as physically ineffectual and as intellectual rather than athletic, to force people’s reactions to go a certain way. You can control the crowd…

(”The patented bad puns have always been for the onlookers. Cracking wise seems to make the bystanders okay with the fact that a masked man in tights is beating the snot out of someone right in front of them.” - Spider-Man & Black Cat: Evil That Men Do #1)

… or you can force someone to let their guard down, if you play your cards right.

(Renew Your Vows (2015) #5)

That Peter Parker quips is probably one of the top three things people who are only even slightly familiar with Spider-Man as a concept will pull up about him. He’s known as the funny superhero. But Peter doesn’t joke without reason, and Peter doesn’t (traditionally) joke just any old way. Peter’s sharp-tongued, he’s sarcastic, and his speech when written the best has a particular rhythm to it. Sometimes when I’m writing his dialogue I’ll hold up my hand in front of my ear and snap several times in close succession: that’s the rhythm I want to hit, one two three, punchy. I want to hear that rhythm in my head in order to best get it down on the page. Humor is a strategy; it’s part of a bigger picture, it’s not just there because he can’t help it. He’s very intelligent and he’s an extremely fast thinker; he is making this choice. And we don’t just see this tendency to use humor for a reaction in fight scenes:

In this scene from Amazing Spider-Man #511, Peter uses humor to deflect. If you look at his dialogue here, it’s looser and more rambling – he’s trying to use it to put Mary Jane at ease rather than to rile an opponent up, so it’s a much softer kind of patter than his punchy in-fight quipping. Conversely, you can see that she doesn’t buy it, because she knows him better than anyone else does. Even so, if you look at the sentence structure of his dialogue here, it goes, and feel free to imagine me snapping here – beat, beat, beat. Snap, snap, snap. He’s hitting marks. There’s a rhythm to Jewish humor, and whether it’s intentional or accidental on an individual writer’s part, when Peter is written the best, he nails it.

But there’s also, if I’m going to talk about wit as a weapon, the utter sharpness of his dialogue at times.

“Hold it, chuckles! I want to talk to you! Which proves I’ve gotta be a masocist!”/“Stop! You’re stretching my double-knit jacket!”/”I’ll stretch your double-knit skull if you don’t shut up!” – Amazing Spider-Man #107.

(Spectacular Spider-Man #145) Both of these scenes are scenes I would classify as funny, but Peter’s decidedly sharp in both of them. So there’s this concept of wit as a weapon in wit being something that’s aggressive. It’s funny, but it’s sharp, and Peter is in total control of the situation. He’s not being funny to entertain the people he’s with, because he is decidedly not doing that. It’s indulging in this wittiness for his own self, because it’s something that’s ingrained in him on a level that I, personally, feels goes deeper than just personally. There’s background there. And it is hard for me to articulate beyond that because for me at least it’s just this feeling of recognition. Like, hey, I do that, I know where I get that from, I’ve seen it in other Jewish people besides me, and it’s so interesting to see it reflected in this particular fictional character. So I don’t know if that helped, but I hope it did, and good luck on your speech! In the words of Peter B Parker, he of the Jewish wedding scene, from Into the Spider-Verse: don’t watch the mouth. It’s this ability to use this verbal quality and this humor as a force that’s as tangible as his ability to throw a Jeep, and it’s a very Jewish one.

#peter parker #traincat talks comics #*replies #jewish peter parker

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 5 years

Text

Pride: Ch 3

The saga continues as Lila enlists the support of Polly and Esme.

Find Chapter 2 here

Tommy spent all night showing Lila how he felt about her and atoning for his numerous sins against her. As spare as he could be with his words, he was physically more than generous when they were alone. Down through the years, through all the stops and starts, the problems between Tommy and Lila were never between the sheets, rather they were with his eventual coldness and silences. He would inevitably try to protect her from the ugly side of his business through subterfuge and secrets. Communication was never his strong suit, but this time he vowed to do better. And although his embrace may have made her weak in the dark of night, she promised herself in the light of day that she would not be his fool. He would have to toe the line.

The next morning as Tommy got ready to go to the betting shop they discussed the way things stood with the Kimber deal.

He pulled his trousers up and tucked in his shirt-tail. “I told her that if she wanted to go to the races she could go as a paid employee to sweeten the deal with Kimber. Nothing more. If she goes, she goes. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t. We’ll do the deal without her.”

“I don’t trust her Tommy.”

Tommy stopped lacing his boots and turned to face Lila. “Pol doesn’t either, nor does Esme. So what is it that all of you suspect? Is it her Irish extraction? Her looks? Has she said something that I should know about?” His voice was not exactly tense, but it was in the neighborhood.

Lila sat up on her knees and pulled the quilt around her shoulders. She didn’t want to start trouble after the night that they had spent together, so she simply replied, “Just be careful, Tommy.”

He finished tying his laces, pulled on his jacket and stood. “I always am.”

As he walked to the door he asked over his shoulder, “Where will you be after work tonight? Here or the Garrison?”

Lila felt a surge of pride. This was Tommy’s way of proving that he had chosen her over business. Through her smile, she murmured, “I suppose I’ll meet you at the pub.”

She listened to his footsteps fade down the hall and heard the door latch shut. The sound of her man going to work. Her man. She sank back onto the pillows and allowed herself a moment of sheer girlish joy. Thomas Shelby belonged to her. She buried her face in his pillow and luxuriated in his scent. It was sweet and smoky, there were sandalwood and a hint of his sweat. Heat began to radiate from between her thighs, and her breasts began to tingle as her nipples hardened. Just the smell of him could do this to her. She felt that she could lie there all day in the bed that they now shared, but she needed to get to the BSA on time, and so she rose to take a cold-water bath.

“Esme!” Lila called out, as she hurried to catch up. It was a stroke of luck, running into Esme. Lila was on her way to the Garrison, as promised, after work, and needed a sounding board to hear her out about her suspicions before going in.

“I’m in a hurry. The kids are home with the neighbor lady and they’ll have her tied up if I don’t get back soon.” She slowed her pace and looked back for Lila to catch up, but never completely stopped.

“Mind if I come in for a few minutes, then? This isn’t the sort of thing I can discuss walking down the street.”

Esme stopped for a fraction of a second and turned to face her, “It’s about the barmaid, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been expecting this conversation. Polly too.”

“Tommy mentioned that you and Polly feel the same way as I do about her. I’m supposed to meet Tommy at the Garrison, so I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Neither do I. Get Polly and bring her ‘round to mine. We’ll hash this out quick enough.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get Polly away from the betting shop, and Lila struggled to keep up with her as she sailed down the street like a graceful black-clad destroyer. Polly was a force to be reckoned with, and Lila was grateful to be on the right side of her. When the three women were sat ‘round Esme’s table, Lila gave them a rundown of the situation thus far. Polly, who was more than kind to Lila but was not one to be summoned for an impromptu meeting at John and Esme’s, had dropped everything to discuss Grace. Esme sipped her tea, her black eyes flashing over the rim of her cup as she listened.

Polly began, “I am glad that you came to us. We have had our suspicions about that fast piece since she came to town, but Tommy wouldn’t listen. Of course, you know how it is with men and their cocks…” She raised her eyebrows and looked to both women for affirmation. “I don’t mean to bring up unpleasantness. I know that you and Tommy have just reconciled, but there’s no sense in pretending that you don’t know how he can be.”

“I’m not a China doll. I can take it,” Lila quipped.

“Good. Because you’re with a Shelby, and everybody wants a piece nowadays,” Esme huffed.

Polly steered them back to the topic at hand, “This Grace woman, she blew into town at the same time as that Irish copper, Campbell. I told Tommy that I think that she is a spy for the police. She is always sniffing around the office, getting peeks of Tommy’s diary. I think she reports back to Campbell.”

“Yeah, and a posh girl the likes of her doesn’t belong at the Garrison. She claims that she worked as a barmaid in Galway. I’ve got kin there and they ain’t ever heard of her,” Esme put her teacup down for emphasis. “And have you seen her pull a pint? She does it like she’s thinking about it. Anyone who’s been behind a bar before would do it more natural like.”

“Right,” Polly said, “but he doesn’t think so. He thinks she’s a posh girl who went astray and needs to start a new life. Here. In Small Heath.” Polly smirked and shook her head.

Lila leaned up on the table, “So we’re in agreement that she isn’t what she seems, and could very well pose a threat to the company.”

“Agreed,” Polly and Esme chimed in.

“So what do we do?”

Polly ground out her cigarette and smiled, “Oh, I’ve got plans for this one. Just go along with her for now— we don’t want to put her on the offensive any more than she already is, nor do we need to get the boys involved.”

“It will be hard, Pol. I’m on my way to the Garrison to see Tommy, and she will undoubtedly be there. It will be difficult to be civil to her.”

“Don’t overdo it. Just be polite and try not to let her know how badly you want to blind her. I have a feeling that if we give Blondie enough rope, she may just hang herself. Now, run along and get the drinks in. I’ll finish up at the shop and join you there shortly.” Polly draped her shawl over her shoulders on her way out into the chill of the evening.

“And I’ll be sat here like a pudding waiting for John to grace us with his presence,” Esme grumbled. The children could be heard squealing and shouting playfully in the next room.

Lila gave her friend a sympathetic smile and gathered the teacups. “I’d wait here with you, but…”

“I know, I know, you have to meet Tommy.” Esme stood (with some difficulty) and motioned to Lila, “Come’ere, let me fix your hair.” Esme tucked stray curls back into Lila’s barrette. “And let's do something about that button,” Esme mumbled as she unbuttoned the top of Lila’s shirt.

The two of them giggled, “I already have him back between my legs, Es.”

“Yeah, but you want to keep him there, right! Take it from me.” Esme grinned and patted her ever growing belly as proof that her methods worked.

“Do try to get some rest.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just have the nanny take the children to the Palace for tea so I can put my feet up.”

The Garrison was a welcome change from the frigid winds that whipped down the lane. The warm glow of the lights, the convivial atmosphere, and the heat from the coal burning stove made Lila smile despite her apprehension at facing Grace again. But why should she feel apprehension? She had the love of Tommy Shelby, she was the one sharing his bed and making his home. She glanced around the bar waving hello to friends and quickly noticed that Grace was nowhere to be seen. With a renewed sense of confidence, she approached the snug.

She could hear Tommy’s voice, “I don’t know how she did it. She works all day at the BSA, and yet somehow, in her off hours, she has turned number 4 into a palace fit for a king. I tell ya, she’s a magician.” She heard Arthur and John chime in in agreement.

But when she opened the door a crack, she could plainly see Grace standing in the snug, holding a tray as she listened to their conversation, smiling and nodding. That duplicitous whore! No one is that gracious after losing a man to another woman. Lila took a deep breath, put on a smile, and told herself, it’s show time.

She stepped into the snug with two objectives in mind: establish a polite rapport with Grace and show that she is already part of the Shelby inner circle. Tommy looked up and smiled when she entered, while Arthur and John rearranged their seats so that Lila could sit between Tommy and John. John hugged and kissed Lila before Tommy could, and Arthur patted them both on the back saying, “Here’s our Lila. Tommy was just telling us all about how you’ve feathered the nest over at number 4.” That was the latter objective accomplished in thirty seconds flat.

Lila held Tommy’s hand under the table as she looked up at Grace, and with measured kindness in her voice, she ordered drinks for herself and Polly. Grace tilted her head a little to the side and gave a closed-lipped smile before leaving the snug to fetch the round. Lila sighed her relief in a way that only Tommy could hear, and he squeezed her hand. His eyes locked with hers in a way that said that he understood and was sorry for her conflicted emotions, but he was grateful for her tact. Lila leaned close to Tommy’s ear and whispered, “My patience does have its limits. Open the service window, she can pass the drinks through to Arthur.”

Tommy nodded and shifted his eyes to his older brother. “Arthur, service window, eh?”

John shifted his toothpick and sniggered. Lila elbowed him, “I saw Esme earlier. Speaking of feathering a nest, she has your house set to rights! How does she manage with all the kids?”

John swelled with pride, “They call it nesting, it’s somthin’ she does when she’s with child.”

Arthur playfully cuffed him around the ear and crowed, “When is she not wif’ child, then, John boy?”

“Ah, cut it out Arthur,” Lila laughed as he turned to take the drinks from the service window and pointedly shut it when he was finished, winking at Lila in the process.

“Honestly, she seemed a bit tired when I went ‘round,” Lila went on. “You might pick up some iron tonic at the chemist's on your way home.”

John looked at his watch and then at Lila, “But the chemist closes in less than an hour.”

“Well, you’ll be leaving by then to help get the kids to bed, you should have plenty of time,” Lila stated, as naturally and matter-of-factly as she could muster. Having been friends with John since primary school, she could suggest things to him in a casual way without him catching on.

Tommy, however, was another story. He squeezed her hand under the table in recognition of what she had just done, and she squeezed his hand in reply to let him know not to give it away.

John finished his pint and rose, “Right then, I’m off. Iron, did you say?”

“Yes, iron tonic. It tastes vile, but will put a bit of color back into her cheeks.”

“Thanks, love.” John kissed the top of her head and made for the door. He loved Esme with all of his heart, but sometimes he could be clueless, or selfish, or both.

“That was slick,” Tommy murmured into her neck.

“They’re my friends. I take care of my friends,” she answered into his ear.

“And what about your enemies?” he whispered.

Just then the door of the snug swung open as Polly came in, and Lila caught a glimpse of Grace. “Oh, I take care of them too.”

Chapter 4

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinder fic #peaky blinder fiction #polly gray #esme shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #pride

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