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wazzupmrstark · 3 years

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instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off.

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits.

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that.

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care.

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head.

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status.

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?”

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile.

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours.

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time.

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down.

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response.

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward.

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit.

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?”

“Identity theft,” you sighed.

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words.

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you.

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit.

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!”

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance.

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you.

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked.

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam.

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience.

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

#ml x dc #maribat #mlb x dc #eventual daminette #pre daminette #daminette #Bio!dad joker #bio!mom Harley Quinn #Joker Sucks #Request #Oneshot #Fanfiction #crossover

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hildagirl99 · 3 years

Text

The last Outlaw

(part 1)

Bill, like every night, wakes up from the same nightmare, a shadow chasing him calling him.

"Is it still the same nightmare?" Aiyanna asks, who was by his side.

"Yes… I don't know why. I don't believe in premonitory dreams." Bill answers.

"Is there something bothering you lately? A fear? A person?"

"Not really…"

"No, just… hope."

"A hope ?"

"Yes, you know that for the past month I've been trying to find information about my missing father." Said Bill.

"Maybe it's him you see in a dream."

"Maybe… you know this mission is my last chance to find my father. I need all the information I can get. I need my mother, also see if he doesn't have any friends."

"Bill, without wanting to make you lose hope, but maybe you have to face reality ... your father may have died. It's been 45 years since he disappeared and when we go to conquer the however, we seldom come back alive. "

"I need to know! I can tell he's still alive!" Bill said, determined.

Aiyanna sighs. When Bill was determined, it was impossible for him to go back.

"If that's it, then I'll come with you." She says.

"Sorry ?"

"No matter how dangerous, I'll follow you."

"If you say so, I will feel less alone. I will go see my mother the next day, because tomorrow is when my expedition starts. Please don't tell Tanka about it." Bill smiles before going back to sleep.

The next day, Bill goes to his mother, who was waiting for him with her 5 brothers and sisters.

"It's been a long time…" her older brothers, twins John and Ethan were saying.

"The last time was 2 years ago… What did you do?" Asks his big sister, Martha.

"Well… that's why I want to see you, I need your help." Bill answers.

"If it's to ask for money, it's no." Teases his big brother, Tom.

"No, it concerns our family."

"Do you want to talk about daddy?" Julia, the last of the family, recalls.

"How do you know…" Bill sighs.

"My intuition, big brother."

"Precisely, in a little while, I am leaving… I am going on a trip, to try to find him."

"Are you serious? But… isn't it a bit too late? Bill… we had already tried but nothing. We can only conclude that he is dead." Martha said.

"No… you have to persevere! I will do what you all were unable to do!" Bill writes, exhausted to hear that his father may be out of this world.

His brothers and sisters look at each other, as if he is right.

"Have your own experience, bro. We trust you." Said Tom.

"Dead or alive, I'll find him."

"And what do you want to ask us in the end?" John asks.

"Do… do you have a picture of him?"

"A photo? Uh… I think you should ask mom. But I'm afraid she's gotten rid of it."

"Whatever!" Bill said walking over to his mother.

His mother, Lana, since the disappearance of her beloved, her life no longer had any meaning or interest. She held on thanks to her children. She stayed most of the time in her room embroidering or knitting. For 30 years, she had sent letters to her love hoping in return for his news. She had given up since, as if she had completely forgotten. Bill was not to rush her.

"Hello Mom." He said in a low voice.

"I thought you were in jail after everything you had done for us." She replies, not taking her eyes off her knitting.

"Mom… I was doing it for you, to keep us from starving. I apologize if I had to be away for a while."

"What's your excuse?"

"Mum, I… do you have a picture of daddy?" He asks.

Lana stops knitting. Bill knew it was difficult to talk about his father.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" she replied after a long silence.

"Mom… seriously, it's for a good cause! Remember! You certainly have a picture of daddy! I'm asking you that because I'm going to look for him!"

Lana's eyes widen.

"Come on… I didn't think you would really go looking for him, there is no hope that you would find him."

“Mom, please…” Bill pleads.

"You're like him… I don't want you to go! You risk your life! Go north alone, you have to be suicidal!" Said her mother getting up from her chair.

"It doesn't matter! Dead or alive! I'll find him!"

"Geez, you've got all of him… determined, fearless and stubborn…"

"Mom, just a picture of him." Said Bill ignoring what she just said.

"It's not very visible but I'll show it to you anyway." She said moving to her nightstand.

She pulls out a tiny, yellowish, worn photo.

"It's him…"

Bill is speechless, as if he held the Holy Grail.

"My god… I had no idea what he looked like when I was a baby but now I have a face on my dad. I understand why you tell me I look a lot like him…" he said.

"But what's the use of this photo? He's aged a lot in 45 years… how are you going to recognize him, if god knows he's alive." Lana asks.

Bill was moved to hold in his hand the only photo of his missing father.

"I don't know… what was his name?"

"He was known as Jack Terror when he was a bandit… His name was Jacky."

"Jacky… daddy… Jack Terror…" Bill whispers, staring at the picture.

"This is the only photo of him… I pray with it every night since his disappearance."

"Don't worry… I won't take it… I finally have a face and a name on our father." He said, returning the photo to her.

"When are you going to leave?" Asks his mother.

"I'll start the research, when and where last we saw it, tomorrow. There must be records of the gold conquest." He replies.

"Bill… please I don't want to lose you like I lost your father. Just be careful! If anything happens to you, I'll never forgive myself…"

Bill turns around and hugs his mother.

"Don't worry, mom, I'm careful, I love to play with death…"

"Cheeky kid…" his mother said, smiling weakly.

After saying goodbye to his mother, he walks over to his siblings.

"Be careful bro, it doesn't matter if you can find a trace of daddy." John said.

"Don't worry, I'll do my best, I'm doing it for all of us." Bill responds with a wink.

Back in the Indian tribe, with Aiyanna.

"Did you get any information?" She asks.

"I had a face and a name on my dad, but right after that, it's going to be serious. I'll dig deeper."

"Do you plan to brief Lorelei and Penny on your trip?"

"* Sigh * I don't want to endanger them, especially not my daughters and my son. This is my story, it's only about me. I don't want to cause them concern."

"You're not causing any concern, honey. I'm happy to participate in your research. And if it's important to you, you don't have to tell them."

Bill looks on the horizon.

"I will not do."

"I could come ?" Said Tanka, their son.

"Tanka? No… it's dangerous." Said Aiyanna.

"Dad will need a pair of fangs if there's a bad beast or bad character around."

"Hehe definitely… like father like son… we'll go together, but if I feel the danger is approaching, run and hide when I tell you." Laughs Bill.

At nightfall, everything was calm, a little too calm, a thick fog surrounds the tribe.

"Brrr… it's suddenly cold." Said Aiyanna.

"Is it normal in August?" Bill asks.

"No… Oh !! Look!"

In the shadows behind the teepees, a gigantic lean form moves slowly.

"My god !! But what is it?"

Suddenly they hear war cries and barking.

"Quick! Let's get out!"

And what they saw froze them in place. The creature was about 3 meters tall, it stood on its skinny legs, it possessed a long tail, one could distinguish in the middle the bones of its half-gnawed tail, the monster had a bone head in the shape of a deer with horns, and finally, large hands with long claws. The Indians were around the beast, screaming to frighten it, that didn't help, it only made the beast even more angry, it growled.

"This is ... this is ..." Aiyanna stutters.

Tanka was close to the beast trying to bite it in his wolf form.

"Tanka !! Back off !! You're going to be hurt!" Bill writes running to his son.

Bill's screams attract the beast, which turns its head towards him. She walks up to him. Bill's legs remain frozen in place, unable to move.

"Daddy !! Go away !!" Said Tanka.

An Indian throws a stone at the beast to divert its attention. She growls and leaps at the Indian, grabbing him by the mouth before running away.

"My ... god ... what is ..."

"It was the wendigo !!" Writes Aiyanna.

"Wendi what?"

"The wendigo! A cursed Native American creature! What was he doing in our tribe? And he took one of our brothers!"

"Are we cursed? If the wendigo has come to our tribe, it means a bad omen." Sighs the Indian chief.

"But can someone explain to me what wendigo is?" Bill asks in confusion.

"It is an evil creature, often depicted with a human body and the head of a deer. It is a cursed creature that only lives to eat human flesh ..."

"If he's around, he's got no more to eat and now he's coming here to get food… we're on his hunting ground now." Said Aiyanna.

The whole tribe was now in a panic.

"It's weird… he didn't seem to be hunting…" Bill thought.

"And how do we kill this creature?" Aiyanna asks.

"Nothing… his skin is hard as a stone, our arrows will do nothing. Only fire is fatal to him." The chef answers.

To be continued...

#oc #showdown bandit #showdown bandit oc #fanfiction #Bill #Aiyanna #Tanka #wendigo #Lana

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axwalker · 4 years

Text

Tears in Heaven 9: Awakening

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

Pairings: Drake x MC Liam x MC (TRR)

Warnings: NO ONE UNDER 18 should read this story. This is an 18+ blog.

This story will deal with very dark subjects such as death, severe depression and suicide attempt (among others) if you’re triggered by any of those issues, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY

A/N: We’re close to the end! After this one, there will be only one more chapter and the epilogue.

To catch up: Masterlist

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word count: 6 700

Songs inspiration: Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton, Brown-eyed girl by Van Morrison.

Thank you, @burnsoslow for being an amazing friend, Beta reader and correcting and editing so many grammar and English mistakes. @pedudley for pre reading and your great feedback and huge support.

I LOVE YOU ❤️

As she drove, Alexis’ mind swiveled around all the things she had learned that day.

Especially about Drake. After all, he had been through, he still had come back for her. He still loved her. And that kiss. That amazing kiss that had made her feel alive, excited, and extremely confused.

She almost ran across the estate’s hallways and corridors, until she reached her fiancé’s office. He went to kiss her as soon as she walked into the room. “I wasn’t expecting you today, love; I was going to send you the driver tomorrow morning,” Liam said.

“I came early because I really needed to talk to you.”

The seriousness of her tone made Liam anxious. “A scotch?”

“A whiskey, and make it double, please,” Alexis replied, raking her hand through her hair.

Liam took a bottle of each and poured the drinks. He handed her the whiskey and watched her gulp it. “What’s the matter, Alexis?”

Alexis decided that it was better to go straight to the point. “We didn’t sign the divorce agreement, Liam. I asked for a one-week extension.”

Liam glared at her; his firm grip clutched the whiskey glass he was holding. “What does that mean?” he asked, unable to hide the icy tone of his voice.

“It means that I need time to process everything that I learned about Drake today.” She sat on the couch across from him. “I think you know what I’m talking about.” Alexis fixed her eyes on his, hoping he’d tell her the truth himself.

Liam’s heart sank; he did know exactly what she was talking about. “Drake told you that he came back to see you, but I stopped him.”

“You stopped him? You lied to him! You told him I didn’t want to see him! You lied to me!” she raged. “Is there anything else?”

“I gave him the letter you wrote before you tried to kill yourself,” he said firmly, without taking his eyes off of her.

Alexis gasped, horrified. “You did what!? Drake didn’t say anything about my letter. How the hell could you do something like that, Liam?”

“I had to be sure that he wasn’t going to come back, and the only way to do it was if he understood how desperate you had been, so I gave him the letter.”

“Fuck, Liam! You betrayed me.” Alexis threw her hands in the air. “You knew. Better than anyone else, you knew how much I missed him. How much I suffered because he never came back. And you didn’t care,” she seethed.

Liam let out a sardonic laugh. “It’s very easy to judge me now that you’re doing better. When I made that decision, you were broken; you were fragile and weak.” Liam tapped his index finger on the table as he spoke. “We fought for months to bring you back to life, to create a routine, and when you were finally strong enough to leave that horrible place, Mr. Walker decides to come back from wherever the hell he was and disturb you. Well, I wasn’t going to let him.”

“In prison. Drake was in prison,” Alexis answered, fuming.

Liam shook his head in disbelief. “What? That can’t be true.”

“It is. He got into a stupid fight the night before coming back to Cordonia and spent almost a year in jail. When he was released, he went straight to the hospital to see me, but you stopped him,” Alexis said accusingly.

Liam’s mind spiraled. He remembered that day clearly; he recalled how desperate Drake was to see Alexis, how broken and lost he seemed. “Maybe, love. But that doesn’t change anything. Drake wasn’t stable -- he wasn’t good for you.”

“We lost our son, Liam!” she yelled. “Of course, he was unstable; of course, I was broken. Things were messy and complicated, but lying to him, to me, wasn’t the answer.”

“Drake poisoned you …”

“This isn’t about Drake, Liam! This is about you and me. About our relationship.” Alexis’ eyes filled with tears. “I trusted you with my life. I had you on a fucking pedestal.” She angrily wiped the tears off her cheeks. “You have no idea how much this hurts. I thought you were the only person who had my back. And it turns out you were lying to me.”

“I’m sorry, love. It breaks my heart to see you like this, but I stand by my choice. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how bad you were, but I haven’t.”

“Oh, I know you haven’t. Me neither. And that’s why I can forgive that lie, the first one. The problem is that you lied for years. Every single time the subject came up, you could’ve said something, but you never did. And you made up a whole story about how you had lost my letter. All lies.” The disappointment in her eyes was heart-wrenching. “How am I ever going to trust you again?”

Liam sat on the chair in front of her and took her hands between his. “You have to believe me, Alexis. I wouldn’t have done anything like this if I didn’t think it was for your own well-being. Please, my love, try to understand.” He kissed her hands, trying to get closer to her. “I can’t lose you, not over this. I know I should have confessed the truth earlier, but I was scared you were going to leave me.”

Alexis heard the desperate edge in his voice, and the last four years of her life flashed through her mind. This was the man that had saved her life and given her everything. The man that was willing to sacrifice having an heir for her. As angry as she was with him, deep down, she knew he only had lied to protect her. “I’ll try to understand, Li; I promise. But it’s going to be difficult to trust you again.” Alexis stirred in her chair, uneasy. She had to be honest, too. “There’s else something else I have to tell you.” She took a deep breath. “Drake and I kissed.”

“I’m going to kill him,” he threatened, furious.

Alexis sighed. “Liam, please calm down.”

“How can you ask me to do that?” he raged. “You kissed him, and then you come here to talk about betrayal? I did what I did to protect you, but I’d never do something like this.”

“There’s no excuse for lying to me all these years, Liam. But I shouldn’t have kissed Drake either. I’m sorry,” she said earnestly.

“Are you leaving me? Is that why you didn’t sign the papers?”

“No, I’m not. I gave you my word, Liam. I just needed time to process everything. I’m telling you about the kiss because I don’t want to lie to you.”

He sighed, trying to gain some composure. “Is that it?” he asked coldly.

“I’m going to go to Drake’s cabin on my son’s birthday. We’re finally emptying his room.” She bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry.

“No,” Liam stated determinedly. “That is not going to happen.”

Alexis turned her head to him. “I’m not asking for your permission, Liam. I’m telling you that I’ll go. This is something I have to do whether you agree with it or not.”

“Fuck, Alexis! Do you think that I don’t want you to go because I’m, what, jealous?” He shook his head. “Do I need to remind you how you get every time we talk about Tom? For God’s sake, you can’t say his name. You don’t even celebrate your own birthday because it’s so close to Tom’s. You’re not ready for this, Alexis. I forbid it.”

“We never talk about him, Liam. Never,” she emphasized. “I know how I got, but I’m not the same woman I was four years ago. Hell, I’m not the same woman I was a year ago. I wasn’t able to get out of bed a week before his birthday, and this year, here I am. It’s still horribly painful and heartbreaking, and no, I can’t say his name yet, but I think this will help.”

Liam snorted. “Why? Because Drake thinks so?”

“That is what you think of me, isn’t it?” Alexis asked him sadly. “That I can’t make a single decision by myself. That I need you or Drake to make them for me.” She placed her hand on his. “I don’t blame you; I gave you -- both of you -- that power in the past. But I’m done with that, Li. I’m going to the cabin the day after tomorrow, and that’s final.” She kissed him on his cheek. “I’m exhausted. I’ll try to sleep. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Liam nodded silently as a reply. He poured himself another glass of scotch; it was going to be a long night.

Alexis spent the night on the sofa next to the window, desperately trying to make sense out of everything that was happening. However, it was her son’s face that had kept her up all night. Five years ago, she had woken up elated to plan his birthday party. Tears spilled from her eyes when she remembered going with him to the store and choosing the decorations and his cake together. His smile illuminated her life, and now he was gone. Immersed in her memories, she didn’t see Liam coming into their room; he had spent the night in his office. He sat on their bed, looking tired. Alexis finally turned her head, and her chest tightened. She sat next to him on the bed and placed her hand on his leg.

“Li, are you all right?”

“I was up all night thinking about us. About you and Drake, too.” Seeing that she wanted to intervene, he gently placed his thumb on her lips. “Let me finish, my love. I want you to be my wife; I want to love you and make you happy. But I need you to be as sure as I am. I refuse to spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re thinking about him, wishing he was with you instead of me. Next week, either you sign those papers, forget all about Drake, and we’ll get married as planned … or you break off our engagement. I won’t accept anything in between.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “I love you, Alexis. I’m so sorry that I lied to you, but I need you to know that it was the only time, and I only did it to protect you; I swear.” He placed a goodbye kiss on her forehead and left the room.

After a while, Alexis packed a bag and left for the capital; she needed to be alone in her apartment to think.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Alexis pulled over at Drake’s cabin, terribly anxious. She was aware that emptying their son’s room was going to be much more complicated than she had expected, but it was something she needed to do to move on with her life, to get some kind of closure. After taking a sharp, almost painful breath and trying to gather some courage, she got out of the car.

Drake’s heart tugged when he saw her through his kitchen window. It was a horrible day for him too, but he had been preparing for a much longer time than Alexis had.

“Hi, Lexie.”

“Hello, Drake.”

The last time she had been in the cabin, the shock of seeing him again after four years had overshadowed everything else. She hadn’t noticed that the house was exactly as she remembered. Well, it was much tidier now that her mess and her son’s toys weren’t scattered all over the room.

“Coffee?” Drake asked.

She nodded, scared that pronouncing one word would be enough to break her. He smiled at her reassuringly.

As he prepared their coffee, her eyes wandered around the bookcase. Her old books were still there. She grabbed her favorite, an early Spanish edition of One Hundred Years of Solitude, a gift from her late mom.

“You should take it,” Drake said as he handed her the coffee.

“I will,” she answered, but kept on looking at the books, more to delay what was coming than anything else.

Drake sipped his coffee silently as he observed her. Her demeanor was graceful and delicate, but her beautiful features reflected her fears, her sadness. He suddenly realized how much Alexis had had to push herself to do what they were about to do. Drake wished she’d realize how strong she was.

“Do you want to talk before we start?” he asked gently.

“Yes, I do.” They walked into the rustic living room; Drake had already lit the fireplace. Alexis sat in her old favorite spot, a cozy white armchair with fluffy red cushions. Drake sighed; everything seemed strangely familiar, and it was making him feel far more nostalgic than he had expected.

“What are we going to do with his things?” Alexis asked as firmly as she could manage.

“There is an orphanage an hour from here. I already bought some boxes and put them in his room. I think we should donate almost everything, except for the things we want to keep because they’re special to you or me. What do you think?”

Alexis nodded slowly. “I agree.”

For a few minutes, they watched the fire in silence as they drank their coffee. Finally, Drake placed his mug on the wooden center table and spoke. “Shall we, Lexie?”

Alexis barely realized that she was shivering. Maybe Liam was right; perhaps she wasn’t ready to deal with it after all. Drake noticed the change in her breathing and how she seemed unable to stand up. He kneeled down in front of her.

“Lexie, I know it’s hard, but it’s time.” He put his hand on her arm. “I’m scared, too.”

“Are you?” she asked, not really believing him.

“Of course. Terrified. But I think that doing it together will help.”

Drake saw the look of determination in her eyes. The old fierce Alexis was still there somewhere. She stood up, and Drake took her hand. Somehow that gesture made him -- them -- stronger.

When they reached Tom’s room, Drake opened the door, and Alexis gasped. She hadn’t been in it for over four years, but it was exactly as she remembered. Tom’s favorite color was blue, so he wanted everything painted in that tone. The shelves filled with books, a chest with his toys, and even the small bed shaped like a car were all blue. Alexis’ watering eyes wandered through the rest of the room. The Shrek blanket covering the bed. His toys, especially the fire truck that he loved so much. Another armchair, where Drake or she used to sit to read Tom a story. His dozens of stuffed animals. Alexis grabbed one of them, a smiling gray rabbit that he took everywhere he went, the one that was next to him the day he died.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer and started to cry uncontrollably. Drake took her in his arms without a word, wrapping her in his embrace and letting her cry. Noticing that he was silently crying as well, Alexis hugged him tightly in return, finding solace in his strong arms, in their shared grief. They stayed like that for a long time.

“We better start collecting his things,” Alexis said, still in tears but calmer than before.

“I want you to do something for me, Lexie,” he said as he rubbed her cheek. “Say his name.”

Alexis shook her head. “I can’t. It’s stronger than me.”

“Look at me.” When she raised her eyes to him, he added, “Nothing is stronger than you. Nothing. Try,” he pleaded gently.

Alexis closed her eyes and took a deep, painful breath. “Tom,” she whispered.

Drake kissed the top of her head. “I knew you could.”

They started packing his things. Every object that went into the boxes reminded them of a special moment; every single item had a memory attached to it.

“I want to keep Buttons,” she said, showing him the stuffed rabbit.

Drake chuckled softly. “He could barely say the word ‘Buttons.’ We only named him that after that dog you liked so much.”

She smiled softly too. “I know, but I loved it when he tried to pronounce it.”

“Me too.”

Alexis felt the wave of feelings washing over her and closed her eyes; maybe that would prevent the tears from coming back. “What do you want to keep?”

“The truck.” he said, kneeling down to grab it. “It used to drive me crazy when he turned on the siren. And now, I’d give anything to …” He cleared his throat, the intense emotions overwhelming him too.

His glassy eyes and his voice breaking pained her profoundly. She kneeled next to him and hugged him again. “Me too, Drake. I’d give everything to have him back.” He looked into her eyes, feeling instantly comforted by her.

They resumed the arduous task, reminiscing and crying while they packed. The process was complicated, impregnated with deep sorrow. At the end of the afternoon, they were both emotionally and physically drained.

Alexis sat on the plush wool couch next to the fire hugging one of its cushions. Drake handed her a glass of water and sat next to her.

“How do you feel, Lexie?”

She didn’t know how to answer. The sadness and bitter pain in her chest were still there, as sharp as usual. But there was also something else — a sort of relief, of peace, that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “And you?”

“Me neither,” he replied, protectively circling her body with his arms.

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Leo walked into the library and saw Liam sitting on the couch reading the Cordonian News with a glass of scotch in his hand.

“You might be the last person on earth that still reads an actual paper.” Leo chuckled. When he saw the glass Liam was holding, he joked, “Father must be worried; you’re drinking as much as me lately.”

Liam turned around and smiled at his older brother. “No one drinks more than you do, Leo.”

He chuckled. “That is true, man.” Despite the teasing, Leo was worried about his brother. “Is everything alright, Li?”

Liam gave him an unconvincing nod as a reply, so Leo pressed the matter. “How is Alexis?”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. He decided to confide in his older brother. “I feel her slipping away from me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Where is she now?” Leo said as he prepared an old fashioned for himself.

“With Drake.” Leo arched his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “They were going to empty Tom’s room today,” Liam added worriedly.

“Fuck! I can’t even imagine it.” Leo shivered, thinking about Milos. “I have no idea how someone can survive something like that.”

“Alexis is not ready, Leo. She’s not strong enough. She’ll get depressed, and I don’t know if I can do it again. Last time, it almost killed me to see her like that.”

“I think she can handle it, Li. When we came to visit a year ago, she seemed very different than she is now. I think you’re being too hard on her,” Leo affirmed as he stirred his cocktail.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe. What I do know is that your relationship isn’t healthy for either of you. Alexis makes me think of a bird in a gilded cage.” Leo sat on the couch. “And you know how much it pains me to agree with old Connie at all, Li. But I think he was right when he told you that she wasn’t ready to be a duchess. I know this because she’s like me; she’s going to feel suffocated here. And you know that, man.”

Liam cocked his eyebrows. “Wow, you sure have a lot of thoughts about my engagement. Since when have you felt like this?”

“Frankly? Since you got engaged. But I didn’t want to spoil your happiness. I’m sorry, Li, but I have to ask. I know you love her, and I’m sure she does too, but isn’t it tiring for you? Always being worried? Always trying to shield her from everything? It has to be exhausting, brother.”

It was more than exhausting; Liam was permanently on edge. But he’d do it for as long as he had to. “I’m used to it; she needs me.”

“That’s the thing: She shouldn’t need you so much.” Leo shifted his position on the couch to face his brother.

“You just said that you couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a child, Leo, and now you’re judging her for not being strong enough?”

“You know I love Lexie like a sister, Li. I’m not judging her. Or you. On the contrary, I think she’s strong enough. I think she’s perfectly capable of deciding if she can drive or how to mourn Tom.” Leo toyed with his glass before asking, “When you have a problem, do you share it with her?”

“I don’t want to burden her. She has enough on her plate.” Liam exhaled, exasperated; Leo would never be able to understand how broken Alexis really was. If he had to spend the rest of his life protecting her, he would do it.

“Listen to yourself, Li. That is no way to live. You deserve a partner, someone you trust.” Leo placed his hand on his own chest. “Personally, I believe that you can trust her. That Lexie can take it. But if you don’t, what’s the point?”

“The point is that I love her, Leo!” Liam said, finally raising his voice.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Do you? I think you’ve been in love with her for so long that you’re clinging to a fantasy. To a woman that only exists in your head.” He patted his brother on his back. “I don’t want to mess with you. And you know I’m happy that she’ll be part of our family. Just think about it, Li. Don’t marry her only because you’re too stubborn to admit that you made a mistake.”

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Alexis checked her phone; it was almost 10:00 p.m. “I should go,” she said reluctantly.

After the day they both had had, they needed something that would take their minds off of the grief, the sadness. “Do you want to clear your head?” Drake asked carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“I think it would be good for us to think about something else. There’s a new pub next to the old gas station, and it’s 10 minutes from here; we don’t even need the car.”

Alexis considered it for a few seconds. “Actually, I’d love that,” she answered.

Drake tried to hide his excitement behind a single word. “Perfect.”

“Just give me a minute, I’ll go freshen up a little.” Alexis stepped into the bathroom and turned on the light. She placed her hands on the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. The red eyes and smudged mascara made her look wretched. She cleaned the rest of makeup off her face and put a little gloss on, happy to spend an evening with him.

They were in a secluded area surrounded by the forest, but it was Friday night, and O’Malley’s was the only pub in a 100 km radio. The place was packed. Large wooden panels, wool rugs, and leather couches decorated it, making it cozy. A local band was getting ready to play.

“This is just my kind of place,” she grinned.

“I know,” he said, smiling at her. “And they have good whiskey and a pool table. What else do we need?”

Her stomach growled, almost answering for her. “Food?”

“When are you not hungry, Lex?” He chuckled when she playfully rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t worry, they make a mean cheeseburger.”

A guy in his mid-sixties approached their booth. “Hello, Drake.” He shot a look at Alexis. “A girl, huh? That’s new.” He extended his hand. “I’m Dan, gorgeous. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with this one. He does nothing but brood,” Daniel joked in a thick Irish accent. “I’ll be behind the bar if you decide to ditch him,” he added, winking.

Drake shook his head, smiling. “Stop it, old man, you’re only embarrassing yourself.”

Alexis laughed. “I’ll see how this goes, Dan, but I’ll keep you posted. He does seem to brood a little too much.” She winked back. “I’m Alexis, by the way”

An air of understanding crossed Dan’s face. “Oh, Alexis.” He looked at Drake, smiling conspiratorially. “I’ll bring you two a bottle from my personal collection.”

“And two cheeseburgers, Dan. Rare, one with no pickles, please.” Alexis was about to intervene when Drake added, “And extra bacon for the one with no pickles. Something else, my lady?” he asked, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

She shook her head, smiling; it was silly how happy Drake made her just because he remembered how she liked a damn cheeseburger. “Thank you, Dan.”

When the owner left, Alexis turned to Drake. “Why am I not surprised that the owner knows you on a first-name basis?” Alexis asked playfully.

Drake chuckled. “I have to admit that I spend a night or two here per week. He’s right, though.”

“About what?” she asked, puzzled.

He looked at her hypnotic brown eyes and bewitching smile. “You’re gorgeous,” Drake said smiling.

She shook her head no. “Please, Drake. I’ve cried all day. My eyes are all puffy, and I’m not even wearing any makeup.”

“Gorgeous,” he whispered again, delighting himself with the charming blush that colored her cheeks.

Alexis tucked her hair behind her ear, biting her lip nervously. Drake smiled; that little gesture of hers drove him so crazy that he had to actively stop himself from leaning to kiss her. He swallowed hard instead.

“I like it here.” Alexis changed the subject. If he kept looking at her like that, she wasn’t going to be able to resist him.

“I found it a week or two after I first came back.”

“Dan seems to know you well.”

“I met him in November. I don’t drink as much as I used to, but I was a wreck that day, completely wasted.” Drake didn’t need to add more; she understood that he was talking about the anniversary of Tom’s death. “It turned out that Dan knew exactly what I was going through. He lost his daughter 15 years ago. Leukemia. He drove me home that night. He’s a good guy, so we became friends; that’s why I come here so often.”

Dan came back with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. “Dalmore 18 years. So, Alexis, Drake told me that you’re Irish, too.”

Alexis smiled. “Half Irish. My grandpa immigrated from Shannon to the States 60 years ago.”

Dan beamed. “What a coincidence! I’m a Doolin, man myself. To county Clare!” he cheered, raising his glass.

“To county Clare!” she beamed back, and the three of them gulped their tumblers. “Grandpa Noah would’ve loved him,” she said, smiling when Dan left.

The band on the stage started their set with “Hey Jude.” Happily, they weren’t as bad as Drake had feared.

He leaned against his chair. Despite the horrible day they had had, they were actually having a good time. His heart swelled seeing Lexie so comfortable. Usually, she seemed to move as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, but that night, she seemed free, relaxed. The sweet smile Drake could kill for illuminated her face.

Dan brought the hamburgers. They were starving; the smell of grilled meat almost made them drool.

“So is this amazing or what?” Drake asked between bites.

She nodded before putting a piece of crispy bacon in her mouth. “God, it’s delicious,” she answered, savoring it.

Drake took a slug of whiskey as he watched her eat. “I’ve never seen anyone enjoy food as much as you do.”

She laughed. “Stop watching me eat, Walker. It’s creepy.” She stuck out her tongue, making him chuckle again. Feeling curious about his new life, she asked, “How are you feeling now that you’re a veterinarian again?”

“Pretty damn good, actually. I’ve been working at the clinic with Ezequiel, and yesterday I spent the morning at Robert’s stables. Remember Rainbow? She had a little foal.”

“I love that mare.” Robert Ferguson was the first client Drake had ever had. “It’s been years since I rode for the last time. I don’t even know why; there are plenty of horses at Valtoria,” she said pensively.

“And you were very good at it.” Drake smirked. “Well, after I taught you, of course.”

“You didn’t do much, Walker. Bastien said I was a natural,” she replied cockily.

“Ha! A natural disaster.” He raised his hands laughing when she threw a crumpled napkin at him. ”I may have exaggerated there but I don’t remember you complaining when I was teaching you.” He cocked a flirty eyebrow at her.

She blushed, remembering his hands firmly holding her hips when he helped her get into the saddle or the shameless way he looked at her when she was riding. “I’ve always admired how passionate you were about your job,” she said, purposely changing the subject again.

“Me too, I loved how passionate you were about literature.” He toyed with his tumbler. “Are you really done with writing?” She nodded sadly, and his heart tugged. Maybe after some time, he would be able to convince her to write again. “Perhaps you could translate fiction instead of legal documents, Lexie.” Drake’s tone of voice reflected his concern.

“I thought about it,” she answered after the last bite of hamburger, “but I won’t have much time to translate anyway when …” She stopped herself.

“When you become the Duchess of Valtoria.” The hint of disdain in his tone was unmistakable.

“Yes,” she answered simply.

The band started to play “Brown-Eyed Girl.” Her song.

“Dance with me.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Who are you, and what the hell did you do with Drake Walker?”

He smiled at her remark. The truth was that Morrison’s song brought back too many good memories and that he was dying to hold her in his arms again. “Ha! People change. Plus, it’s your song, remember?” He asked, staring at her.

They had been married for two years. As a wedding anniversary gift, Alexis had bought tickets to Van Morrison’s concert, Drake’s favorite singer. The first notes of “Brown-Eyed Girl” started to echo through the coliseum. Drake wrapped his arms around Alexis. He pressed his wife’s back tightly against his chest. “This is your song, baby’ you’re my very own brown-eyed girl,” he said into her ear. She grinned. “I love you so much, Drake.” “I love you too, Lexie,�� he said before kissing her.

“I do,” Alexis answered softly. “Let’s dance.” She gulped her whiskey and stood up.

A shiver ran through her body as he led her to the dance floor with his large hand strategically placed on the small of her back.

Playin’ a new game

Laughing and a-running hey, hey

Skipping and a-jumping

Drake smiled happily as he pulled her close to him. Having her delicate frame in his arms was more than inebriating. His heart raced while they moved across the dance floor.

In the misty morning fog with

Our hearts a-thumpin’ and you

My brown-eyed girl

You, my brown-eyed girl

Drake cupped and raised Alexis’ face to him. The hammering in her chest got louder when he looked down at her, pouring his chocolate eyes into hers. He mouthed the song’s lyrics as he rubbed her lips with his thumb. Alexis could barely think straight. She was thankful that his strong arms were wrapped around her, holding her firmly.

Whatever happened

To Tuesday and so slow?

Going down the old mine

With a transistor radio

Standing in the sunlight laughing

Hiding behind a rainbow’s wall

Slipping and sliding

All along the waterfall, with you

My brown-eyed girl

You, my brown-eyed girl

Drake pressed her tightly, feeling every inch of Alexis’ soft curves against his body. Wanting her so badly was the most excruciating, most delicious torture he had ever experienced. He dipped his nose into her neck and inhaled, enjoying the delicate cherry notes of her fragrance. His beard tickled her; his breath produced a million goosebumps on her. As they moved, one of Drake’s hands caressed her back, and the other one tenderly cupped her face. Alexis felt like she was seriously going to explode if he didn’t kiss her fast. Finally, he leaned into her, but the singer ended the song, breaking their moment. Alexis swallowed as she took a step back. It was better that way.

They went back to their booth in silence. Alexis poured more whiskey in both their glasses and gulped hers again. They talked, drank, and laughed until they were the last customers in the pub.

“I should go,” Alexis declared when they arrived at the cabin.

“Lex, you can’t drive like this. You’re drunk. You can sleep in our room. Fuck, I’m drunk too. I meant my room.”

It was a horrible idea. “Yeah, okay.”

They went upstairs. Drake grabbed a pair of pants and his Cordonia Veterinarian School sweatshirt, knowing how much Alexis had loved to sleep in it. “Here, so you can sleep comfortably.”

“Thank you,” Alexis said, making eye contact with him. After a few seconds, the stare became charged with all the feelings they had for each other. The electric energy filled the air until Drake took a step towards her. He pulled her close, spinning so he could pin her against the wall, pressing his body against hers. “You drive me insane, Alexis,” he groaned, caressing her cheek.

“Kiss me, Drake,” Alexis whispered.

Drake closed his eyes and leaned down, his heart beating out of his chest. The old spark that used to knock the wind out of him every time they kissed was still there. He crashed his mouth against hers again and again. A soft moan escaped from her lungs, and soon Drake’s mouth was ravaging her neck, kissing it, biting it. His hands roaming all over her. Alexis craved him; every single part of her wanted Drake painfully. He gripped her hips as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, getting lost in her beautiful face for a few seconds.

“I want you, Lexie. Fuck, I need you.” Drake managed to growl in her ear between hitched breaths.

Her small hands grabbed his neck. She locked her gaze with him. “Me too, Drake. I’ve missed you so much. I need you so much.” She stopped talking, aware that she would regret whatever decision she’d make. “But I feel so confused. And, Liam ... I … can’t… I can’t do this to him.” Alexis’ voice broke with sadness.

Drake sighed. As much as he desired her, it wasn’t the right time. They were both drunk, and Liam was there, hovering between them. After all the years they had been apart, Drake didn’t want to have her back only for a few hours and then lose her because she felt guilty or insecure.

“Hey, baby. Shh, come here.” He laid on his back and wrapped his arms around her, her head on his chest. “Don’t worry. I understand.” He talked with a soothing voice as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Do you mind staying here with me? I don’t think I can sleep in our room alone.”

Our room. Drake smiled. “Of course, Lexie. I’m here. You can sleep; I won’t leave.”

Drake’s embrace made Alexis feel profoundly safe. A warm feeling of finally being home invaded her. Soon her breath became even. Drake realized she had fallen asleep and covered her with the blanket. Her beautiful features seemed calm and peaceful. Drake softly stroked her hair, letting his hopes run wild. In that instant, if only for a few stolen minutes, he had all he wanted. After a short moment, he leaned his head against the pillow and soon drifted off to sleep as well.

The next morning, Alexis woke up to the smell of a hot, steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. Her eyes wandered through the room, looking for Drake, a little disappointed that he wasn’t in bed next to her. She sat on the bed and saw him standing on the balcony, a cup of coffee in his hand, looking at the lake.

“Hi, Drake.”

“Hi, Lex,” he smiled faintly.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

He nodded, his stare still on the lake. “I don’t want to pressure you, Lex, but in less than three days, we're supposed to sign those damn papers. What do you want to do?”

Alexis took a sip of coffee to buy herself a few seconds. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Damn, Alexis, that’s not what I’m asking. What do you want? Not me, or Liam, or anyone else. You,” he groaned, pointing his hands at her. “What do you want?”

“It’s not that fucking easy, Drake,” she answered. “Liam and I have been together through so much. And now I’m supposed to leave him like he meant nothing? He deserves so much more than that.”

“So you’re going to sacrifice your life because of what? Gratitude?” He ran his hand through his hair.

“I know this is difficult to hear, Drake, and I’m sorry, but I love Liam too.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. And it killed me until I realized that you might love him, but you’re not in love with him, Lex. I know you inside and out. You can lie to the entire world, but you can’t lie to me.” He stepped close to her and rubbed circles on her jaw with his thumb. “Don’t think about Liam or about me, think about you. About your dreams. If there’s something you and I know, it’s how ephemeral life is. Don’t waste any more time, Lexie. I promise that the life you used to love is still there; the things you used to enjoy doing, you can enjoy again. Please don’t stop living because you’re afraid or feel guilty.”

Alexis didn’t want to hear any of it. She had loved life, passionately. She had been open and free; she had had everything. A beautiful marriage with the love of her life. A perfect son. A promising career. Hobbies, passions, happiness. Losing that life almost killed her once, but she had learned her lesson. It was better to live guardedly, carefully. As much as she wanted to be, she wasn’t the naïve 19-year-old girl Drake had met 10 years ago.

The worst part was knowing that no matter what she did, she was going to hurt someone. Drake was the love of her life. He made her feel safe and protected, exhilarated, giddy, and euphoric, even after all that time. During all those years away from him, she had never stopped loving him, missing him painfully.

But Liam had never left her, no matter how broken, how sad she had been. She had never asked him to stay, to take care of her, but he had done it anyway, selflessly. It made his sacrifice even nobler. Together they had been able to defeat her grief, if only partially. He deserved much more than to be a mere transition into her real life.

“I need to leave, Drake. I’m sorry.”

“You’re so fucking frustrating,” he growled. “But as stubborn and maddening as you are, I love you.” He grabbed her waist and surprised her with a long, heartfelt kiss. “I love you, Alexis, and I’m not going anywhere this time. When you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Drake stepped into the house and left her alone.

Alexis felt like she was standing on the verge of a precipice and had no idea if it was better to jump or stand still.

TIH: @yukinagato2012 @ao719 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @cordonia-gothqueen @bebepac @nomadics-stuff @cordonianroyalty @msjr0119 @forthebrokenheartedthings @bascmve01 @gibbles82

Permatag list: @burnsoslow @mskaneko @pedudley @ac27dj @twinkle-320 @kimmiedoo5 @marshmallowsandfire @loveellamae @debramcg1106 @ravenpuff02 @pug-bitch @princessleac1

#axwalker writes #tears in heaven #tw death of a child #trauma

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geekkatsblog · 4 years

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Grey's Anatomy Season 16x17 review.

What a messed up episode it was. So starting from the most messed up and going down.

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Tom Koracick He gets a section tomhimself today because honestly, his life is starting to get really complicate as was expected seeing that he's at Grey Sloan. Him and Teddy, somehow or the other I feel he's going to have the worst part of this stick. Teddy has Been in love with Owen since she even arrived at the hospital in season 6 (or 5 can't remember too clearly), but after loving someone for so long, chances are she isn't going to leave him now. She was hurt and scared because Owen could possibly have another child and he drops her like a hot potato for anyone so, with all her feelings she went to Tom and he of course slept with her because, he loves her a surprising amount. I wish that he could find the strength to tell her no, because he's going to wind up hurt and with the way everyone treats him. He's going to really be in an emotional hole after it all. As for him and Mr Billionaire. I always used to imagine scenarios like the one he proposed to Tom, but probably in a spy movie I didn't actually expect Tom to do it. He's going to end up using the money for his lawyer bills because he's not even going to have a chance if he's found out. His licenses will be gone and so will his life. He'll end up in jail along with the billionaire. Who is clearly one of the dumbest geniuses I've ever seen. All of that because he's made a mistake and could be arrested. If his plan is found out he'll be as ruined as Tom. I don't like where that case is going. I like Tom but I don't think he should risk anything for that man who clearly thinks he's the s**t and I can definitely see Tom's emotional Grey's spiral coming. I wish him the best of luck.

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Teddy I think we should check her for a tumor or a mental illness as well because I don't know what happened to her. I would have never expected Teddy to be like this. She was one of the most respectable women on Grey's. I know that she was emotional but she has been pinning for Owen for Years and years and she didn't even think to talk to him? Come on Teddy and she's using Tom, Maggie's speech was spot on she's sleeping with Tom who is madly in love with her when she knows she loves Owen, like leave Tom out of it sleep with someone else. And her reaction when she told Owen that Amelia's baby could be his and she asks him where does that leave them. He apparently took 5 seconds to long and she walked away, come on Teddy..... you just told the man that he could possibly be the father of a 3rd baby and with another woman all under the under the age of 3 and you're upset he took 5 seconds before answering, now I'm no Owen fan but Jeeze give the guy some time to process before making assumptions and what she said about Amelia, thank God for Maggie because her reasoning for being angry at Amelia was crap, especially because she did the exact same thing with Owen so the real loser here is Owen and Tom. She needs to pull it together soon because I'm sure this isn't over even though Owen isn't the Father.

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Owen Karma's a bitch I guess I almost feel sorry for him, this is the best he's been in any relationship. He's in yet another love triangle with the same woman but this time he's not the one being chased. I also want to talk about his old school way of life. Why the he'll should Teddy have to plan the wedding herself, it's like Christina not wanting to have kids all over again. She's a surgeon and a mom, both of those things are full time job. You still plan your wedding with the wedding planner except they do all of the running around for you.if he wants a planned wedding so much he should do it himself and Teddy needs to learn to say no she's going to stress herself planning a wedding the same way she did making Halloween costumes.

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Richard Yet another painful one, not only is he quitting surgery he's also pushing the people who care about him further and further away. He was so angry I almost thought that he would have had to be committed. I am praying that Webber is not leaving as well even if he's not doing surgery he should teach or something Bailey was right the hospital needs him and the show sure as he'll does as well. He wants to sell his paths pen, do you Webber but ,make sure you come back. Maybe he'll make enough money that Catherine doesn't feel like she can buy him anymore. Where the he'll Is Catherine anyway? She's doing everything behind the scenes and as usual Bailey has to take the fall.

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Link/Amelia Yay, I think we can safely take Amelia out of the Owen, Teddy, Koracick thing because her and Link are back together and even better Link is the father. While I still don't agree with how the whole thing was handled I'm just glad that they're together again and the whole Amelia, Owen thing isn't going to start again. No more children deserve to be involved in that mess. Not to mention now we get to see more daddy Link. I know that they're going to definitely have more struggles along the road I mean after all this is Grey's but I at least hope that no more of those problems will include Owen Hunt.

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Jo Didn't know which last name to call her anymore. She's in a bad mood understandably but not in her need to get committed mood, which I'm glad for. The actress in real life is pregnant and I'm just wondering how that's going to be played off. It can't be written in that wouldn't make any sense but I was wondering if they're going to make Jo take some time off. She would definitely deserve it. I'm glad that she's not spiralling too much at least not yet. She's in a funk but like she said she'll pick herself up because she knows she deserves love.

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Deluca Is talking to a shrink but doesn't really think he needs it and coming from experience that's never a good thing. I hope he realizes it soon before it ruins him and based on some spoilers I read its not seeming too likely.

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Meredith Isn't in the mood to talk about her feelings, she was hit on by a billionaire and rightfully angry at the world because the woman who had to ration her insulin because she couldn't afford was heartbreaking. I live in a country where most health care and medication is free or at a reasonable price unless you choose otherwise so I couldn't imagine how hard it is to be unable to get the health care you need so that was hard to watch. Meredith was also right to be pissed off that some billionaire just decided that he doesn't want to accept responsibility and cleared a whole hospital floor to do it. (Even if Catherine was the one to do it). She misses Alex and had yet another conversation with Bailey (this is the most I've seen them talk this whole series.) And they basically express how everyone is leaving or dying and it's lonely without them and nothing else have ever been more accurate. The amount of life and family togetherness that was in the beginning of the series definitely isn't there anymore.

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Bailey Was just there being concerned about Webber, I felt for her when Webber started freaking out and throwing stuff you could seen her internal struggle between staying with him or doing her job. I hope they aren't going to make her lose her work husband and basically the only person at Grey Sloan who would stand up for her. And she needs to stand up to Catherine that woman has been throwing her under the bus for too long.

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Jackson Broke up with his girlfriend Vic.............. I have no idea if to feel bad or happy. I don't really watch Station 19 unless if it has Bailey or is necessary to watch in order to understand what's going on in Grey's as well as the first 6 episodes of season one that I watched so I have no idea what was going on with them. I kind of picked up that she got kicked out of her home and moved into Jackson's place without telling him. But what's don't get is the reactions he was upset that she moved in and I understood because who moves into someone's place without asking but now she moves out and he's upset and for stupid reasons. Dean her new roommate/boatmate once hit on Maggie when they were together and he didn't know. She's going to help Dean raise a baby. The man's a new single father to a newborn I don't think he has time to steal someone's gf. But thank God I no longer have to hear the stupid argument again because they broke up well he broke up with her. Props to her to waiting around all day so he could do it though. Jackson is one of the characters who started off as one of my favorites but has now made his way to the bottom of the list.

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Maggie The usual cheerleader, when are they going to finally give her a plot that isn't cheering someone on, being annoying or a plot that lasts 5 seconds. It's almost like she isn't even there. Give the girl a good plot for God's sake, she shouldn't just be a cheerleader. That being said, she was spitting facts today with Teddy though and she's probably going to spill Teddy's secret because shes bad at keeping secrets thats a potential hot mess in the making.

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End notes and questions

What the Hell is Tom doing??? It's dumb and I hope someone talks some sense into him soon.

What's going to happen to Richard? Is he leaving the show as well? I hope not he's one of the only good things left.

Is Deluca going to be ok? He's got to admit he needs help soon.

And last but not least, What will happen to the hot mess that is Owen and Teddy?

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alexisluthor · 4 years

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Prodigal Son Deep Dive - “The Professionals” *SPOILERS*

*PRODIGAL SON SPOILERS AHEAD*

A lot happened in the latest ep of PSON, “The Professionals.” As soon as Malcolm walks into the station and everyone’s staring at him, you know something bad happened. Plus, Gil was drinking. During the day.

So, Eve’s dead, that’s a bummer. We also miss getting two episodes of the show due to the virus, so who knows what those two episodes contained. What we have to work with is a seemingly all-powerful Nick Endicott who promised Whitly in 1999 that he’d…sleep with…Jessica and destroy his family if he ever reneged on their agreement. He’s made good on the first point and is working on the second.

It is my theory that when Malcolm went to “interview” Eddie, the man in the room wasn’t even Eddie. If the team were smart and trying to intercept Nick Endicott’s attempt at framing Malcolm…they would have a bandaged man sent to the hospital – have Malcolm show up with orders from Gil to interview him (which is weird bc he’s a profiler, but whatever). They’ve already got the assassin in their pocket. She goes to Endicott, tells him she killed Eddie and planted evidence after Malcolm’s visit. Voila. Nick thinks he’s got the upper hand.

The team has to keep Malcolm in the dark, to make everything look believable. But notice, at the end of the ep, Dani is looking upward. As if searching for cameras or something. Eve’s place had been spied upon and I think the team hoped that Malcolm’s place was bugged as well so that Nick would get the confirmation he sought. Malcolm gives an amazing ‘shocked’ performance, because it’s not a performance. He really thinks he’s being arrested. Although, if you watch his face carefully, you watch his expression shift to something…else. Less shocked and more… ‘aha, I know what you’re doing here.’

Maybe he’s safer in the clink than anywhere else at the moment – at least until Nick is…taken care of. But the promos for the next ep indicate that he’s not in jail.

Speaking of “taken care of…” as soon as it’s mentioned that Mr. David was sick, alarm bells went off in my head. It was nice to see Martin ‘caring’ about his ol’ pal, and even nicer to hear him hiss at Eddie that he’s, “not like other prisoners.” Is Mr. David still alive? Did Nick kill him?

Now we know that Martin’s cushy existence behind bars is because of Nick. But at what cost? The way Endicott threatened Martin…talked down to him…offered him his little rug. I would say that Martin is a…dominant…type. I think it’s killing him that Nick has infiltrated his family so thoroughly. That pent up rage is probably not doing good things for him, mentally. I think a lot of that rage comes out when he’s brutalizing Eddie.

The scene where Eddie tries to kill Martin was fantastic. Martin being choked…Malcolm unable to get into the cell. As he was being choked out, it was like Martin had all but given up until he heard Malcolm scream, “Dad!” It was a moment that so perfectly echoed that scene when Martin was in a coma. It was Bright who brought him back to the surface. Martin’s eyes snap open and he gets the upper hand, going into full kill mode, and all Malcolm can do is watch. I think Malcolm watches in both horror and fascination. This is the first time he’s really seen his father do real damage, revealing his animalistic nature in the most brutal fashion.

What’s just as shocking is the way that Martin attacks Eddie. He goes for the eye sockets, which is one of the ways he’d mentioned previously, to a collegiate Malcolm, how he could kill him. He tells Eddie, “this is for my boy,” and grins wildly at Malcolm as he does it. It’s like watching his sanity snap in real time. And Malcolm can’t pull his eyes away.

I think part of Malcolm…a part that he’d never admit to having…wasn’t too terribly upset by his father’s brutal treatment of Eddie. That is the man who killed Eve after all… The look on his face is more one of fascination than disgust. Despite not being >>as<< panicked as when Martin was being attacked, he still urges Martin to stop. JT pulls Martin off Eddie and Martin has this moment…it’s almost like he’d disassociated a bit. He almost has to come back to himself. Hmmmmm….

And poor Gil and Jessica, talking about Malcolm – drinking – reconnecting. Their night had been going well. Jessica is right, she sure can pick ‘em. And to find out that she did have a history with Gil is beyond satisfying and something I think we all suspected. But to hear that she had turned him away – made him think he wasn’t good enough for her – that was brutal. Poor Gil. Still, he got to have his life with Jackie. And now he gets Jessica. Or does he?

Boy…what a time for Martin. He lost Jess both to his enemy Endicott, and to his enemy Arroyo. That rage will really boil when he hears about Gil. He already fears that he’s lost his boy to the lieutenant and now his ex? Ouch.

We get that lovely kiss between Gil and Jess and several other incredible moments with the rest of the team.

Ainsley puts herself in danger as she tries to investigate Nick. But part of me wonders…if she’ll be the one to kill him. I think Martin went after the wrong kid to try to convince to be a killer. If I had to put my money on it, I’d see her killing someone before Malcolm would. Then again, he did stabby stabby his very own daddy daddy but I think the reasons behind that were more complicated than – well, he’s a killer. I digress.

And poor Eve. No wonder Malcolm is haunted by her specter. In a way, it is because of his family that both she and her sister are dead. She had just begun to taste hope, had just renewed her spark, and boom – her life was snuffed out. I think Malcolm’s psyche is more fragile than ever as a result… How many ghosts can haunt him before he cracks apart entirely?

And what of Nick’s fury? What happens when he finds out Jess has moved on to Gil? When she says “no,” to him? Eeeeek. Martin is the big, bad predator, but he can’t do much protecting from behind bars. And judging from the ‘upcoming ep’ scenes, there’s a bounty on Martin’s head. He’s going to be in gen pop – all of his cushy privileges bestowed upon him by Endicott revoked. There is a prison free-for-all in the promo for the finale so I still hold out hope that Martin could manage a jailbreak, or at least a chance at staying alive.

Tangent --- If Martin does stay alive (which he better), how would his dynamic with the team be altered now that he’s a ‘regular’ prisoner? No more private room? No more desk and books and surgical consulting? No more Mr. David, lion nature specials, and extensive private phone time? His own sanity would probably begin to splinter. Maybe his work/cooperation with the NYPD and surgical consultations would be enough to get him some old comforts back? As much as Malcolm professes to hate him (and does hate him), I don’t think he’d like these changes for Martin either (because part of him, also begrudgingly loves him). Perhaps he himself could rescue Martin from the lost privileges? After all, is it really a GOOD IDEA to mix Martin with a bunch of other prisoners? He is a puppet master, a mastermind. So maybe Mal gets him his old existence back. Wouldn’t that be a twist? >evil grin<

What I need is Mal and Martin in the same prison. Malcolm protecting him from getting whacked while the team and Ainsley try to bring down Nick. But if Martin is urging Malcolm to kill Nick, that means that Malcolm’s free. No Prison!Malcolm for me unfortunately.

I think it’s also highly unlikely that Malcolm will kill Nick in the end.

Finally, I find it fascinating that Martin urges Malcolm to be the killer, rather than Ainsley, even though he’s talking to both of them. He points out that HE is a Whitly. Like…hello? So is she? (THIS REALLY BOLSTERS MY THEORY THAT SHE IS NOT MARTIN’S KID – that and the way he barely acknowledges her existence) Maybe she’ll take Nick out in the end? Who knows.

All I know is that the team is more kickass than ever. Malcolm improvising with that knife and ketchup? Perfection. Dani taking out the assassin. Beyond amazing. The director actually giving us a LIT SHOT OF TOM PAYNE’S FACE…YESSSSSS. There were plenty of wonderful moments in this ep that have me screaming at FOX to renew this show.

PS If Edrisa is the ultimate Malcolm Stan…HOW DID SHE NOT KNOW THAT HE HAD DATED EVE? LIKE…what kind of stalker are we here Edrisa? You can do better. Plus, no one from the team thought to CALL HER? Give her a heads up maybe? “Yo – Bright is coming in. He dated the dead girl. Act somber.” NOTHING. She just had no idea. This from the same woman who HAD MAL’S MEDICAL FILES after he got kidnapped? I just…. sigh…come on team. Come on Edrisa. (GIF courtesy of MyBoy)

#prodigal son #prodigal son theories #pson #pson theories #malcolm bright #jt tarmel #dani powell #edrisa tanaka #gil arroyo #jessica whitly #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #nick endicott #tom payne #michael sheen #lou diamond phillips #theories #the professionals

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hellotinywonder · 6 years

Text

ten years later...

[Česká Verze] This has been kicking around my head as of late, I have a dear new friend who doesn’t speak much English, and I’ve wanted to tell him about this weird, terrible moment in my life that fundamentally changed who I am and how I will forever interact with the world (both in good ways and bad). But I don’t know how to. So I am writing it all down, which is something I have never done. And then I will leave it here, and of course, once a year I will remember and shake my fist at the world for myself and all the other victims of violent men, and then I will put my fist down, and get back to living my life. It’s that time of year, though...

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. It comes unbidden in the middle of the night. When someone is walking too quickly toward me. When someone says something inappropriate online or in person. When too many of the boxes, of that pattern of violence I have permanently etched in my head, get ticked… I think:

“Ten years ago someone tried to kill you... maybe you should run.” (Obvious content warnings apply, readers: Violence.)

Ten years is so long. I have adapted. I have moved past it. But the parts of that night, those horrific hours in the morning… 4am. 5am. In the ER by 6am… the parts that are left, I feel are going to stay with me forever.

They don’t haunt, so much. They are just there. In the corners. They keep me aware. So in some ways, they keep me safe.

Daniel Rhinehardt was my housemate. (How do I refer to him? There is nothing colloquial about him at all, but since this is going up online, as a statement of public record, as a possible search result for Google, that might warn some poor woman who doesn’t know… Daniel Rhinehardt is his name, and I will refer to him as such.) We did lots of things together, because I am the type, I have discovered, who likes housemates as community. I have had many successful versions of communal housemates, who cooked together, or went on mundane errands, that sort of thing. With no hidden agenda, no sense of obligation… healthy relationships between people. This was not one of them. But I was too young and naive to figure that out in time.

I won’t go into too many details, but this man became obsessed with me. I remember being on tour for a month, bills paid in advance, and I received harassing phone calls from him because I hadn’t called him, or some nonsense like that. We did our first Dragon Con (major convention in Atlanta, that I performed at or now do puppetry at) that year, and he came with us to sell merch. I woke up one morning in my band’s hotel room to find him in bed next to me, which unnerved me (I had specifically requested my female friend sleep with me, to keep this weird toxicity I was starting to pick up on away). I was looking for apartments in September of 2008. I was looking. I hadn’t said anything, but I knew I had to leave, but I just didn’t pull it all together fast enough.

On September 20th, 2008, at my friend David’s birthday, Rhinehardt got drunk. At the time I did not drink and was babysitting friend of mine on the roof. They were a bit touchy feely as they were on some other substances, but I didn’t mind. I trusted them and I knew I was in control of my situation. When we decided it was time for me to go to bed, we all cuddled a bit and they each kissed me goodnight. They were a married couple, and there was nothing untoward with silly friendly kisses, but it set Rhinehardt off. He started yelling nonsense and threw a chair off the roof (it was caught by a lower tier, and did not fall to the street). He stormed off screaming garbled obscenities and was gone. The night was thrown into disarray. We tried to call him because we were all concerned. But I was also starting to panic. I took a hit of my inhaler and we went back downstairs into David’s apartment. I sat on her bed while some friends talked me down and told me I really needed to move out. I agreed and told them how I had been looking, but couldn’t find anything at the time. I don’t know how long we were there in the apartment when Rhinehardt came back in, yelling nonsense, walked straight in at me and stabbed me in the side.

I would like to take a brief moment to mention a memory that I can never shake. One day, apropos of nothing, Daniel Rhinehardt told me that if he was ever going to stab someone he would make sure to swing in from the side. That is where all the organs are, defenseless. It was so much more work to stab from the front or the back because of the ribcage. He *told* me that once. Well before, I think, he had any designs of stabbing me… but he told me that. He thought it was impressive. This vast knowledge of violence.

“...stabbed me in the side.” It looks so small to read it back. Such a small action. How does it reverberate even now?

Thankfully I had enough reactionary sense to move as much as I could, being seated on a bed, and turned myself away so that his fist, no, knife… both... hit my hip and lodged there 3 inches, (8cm or so), instead of my side. My organs were spared, and while the scar tissue presses against it, my sciatic nerve and artery were both missed.

I screamed. He pulled the knife back and tried to stab me again, but was pulled off by someone else. Matt McCorkle, David Forbes, and Luke Withrow all had a hand in saving my life that night. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they weren’t there, if I had gone home. Best not to think about it, not now or ever. It would not have been good. As fucked as I was, I was still somehow, always, lucky.

Then came the insanity that was bleeding all over my friend’s bed and floor. Rhinehardt was pushed out of the apartment, the door was locked. Every time someone knocked on that door I lost my shit, completely terrified. But at the same time I was in shock and trying to sort out how I could avoid going to the hospital, one seemingly completely logical thought was: Matt’s dad was a vet… so we had access to medical supplies? My health insurance did not start for another TEN DAYS. (Thank you for absolutely nothing, America.) 911 was called, because of course it was. I had been stabbed right in front of a group of friends and party-goers. I was left, lying on the floor, while Luke and Danielle held towels against my hip and thigh to try to stop the bleeding.

That’s how it went for 20 minutes? 2 hours? I could not tell (of course it couldn’t have been 2 hours, but I lost all track fo time). Eventually paramedics arrived, cut my pants off, staunch the bleeding as best they could (my inhaler I took during the panic attack was working as a blood thinner, so that was miserable) and whisked me away.

Shock is a wonderful feeling. I mean, it’s horrible, but it does keep you calm. I “made friends” with them, they were very excited about their new sealing product for puncture wounds. They whisked me into an ER. Where I was photographed, documented, scrubbed, sutured, stapled, and asked a million questions I didn’t know how to answer.

Meanwhile everyone was sort of detained at the apartment -now crime scene- to give statements. More photographs were taken. I’m told they are available somewhere, public record, but I’ve never seen them. I’ve asked once, but was unable to track them down.

I was told by the detective on my case, no, *the* case (it would become very apparent that this was not MY case, rather I was the VICTIM in the STATE’s case) that I could not go home. It was not safe. Did I have anywhere to go? Anyone I could stay with? I didn’t know. I had friends… but I knew Matt, Amanda, David, Luke, Danielle… but I didn’t know anyone’s last names, didn’t know how to contact anyone… I am not sure if I even had my phone, no… now that I think of it,I think my phone and my bag were left behind on the floor of the apartment. I was given crutches, scrubs (again, my pants had been cut off), and my shoes, and a voucher for a taxi, and discharged around 9am.

I was given back my shoes. Little beat up black ballet flats. I just stared at them. They were splattered with blood. I stood there in what must be one of the most cinematic scenes of my life, a mess, leaning on crutches, completely alone in a hospital lobby, as the sun crested the mountain and poured over me. A man offered me a wheelchair, but due to the location of my wound, I was unable to sit down. I hobbled to the sidewalk… I had no bag, no belongings, just my shoes in my hands, and as the cab driver came over to me I saw Luke and Danielle turn the corner. They had come to find me, and subsequently adopt me. We went back to Matt and Amanda’s apartment, which was in the same building as mine. Rhinehardt was still in jail at the time, so we went through my apartment and grabbed some essentials. Some clothes, my laptop, The Invention of Hugo Cabret (a book I had been meaning to read), Agatha (the cat I had been cat sitting) and some other items I forget. We sat around Matt and Amanda’s apartment for a bit, then, exhausted, back to Luke and Danielle’s where I would live for the next few weeks. Daniel Rhinehardt would be released on bail that night, and he would never go back to jail for this crime. Because that is how the system works in North Carolina.

When I made it back to Luke and Danielle’s house I remember calling my parents. Calling my friend Tom in the wee hours of the morning, because of the time zone, and leaving a message saying something like “you should call me back as soon as you get this.” I called work and asked to not come in for a bit. I tried to explain.

These mundane exercises.

I needed to inform my people.

I started using Facebook for only that reason. To tell my people from Charlotte, my hometown (no, I don’t claim that often) that I would be back for a short stay, couldn’t drive, needed help. Needed people around me… I don’t know. I do know that Erich Moffitt, an ex -but I thought friend- never returned my call. Just left me out there, drifting in the darkest void I’ve ever drifted in. So... yeah, a polite fuck you, dude.

Everything went from bad to worse as I tried to recover, but there were still wonderful highlights to cling to. My friend Tom created a paypal donation site for me, as I was uninsured and would need help covering the medical bills (though in the end Victim’s Compensation would cover them, but not before they went into default and cruel creditors would harass me and call the incident of someone stabbing me an “accident”), I was caught by an incredible network of friends in Asheville, who I am forever overjoyed to see, who I can rely on to this day, and I love dearly. My birthday, 2 days later on Sept 23rd, I spent in Charlotte, my parents collected me and took me to their home a few hours away for a few days following which made sense. It was during a gas crisis, but I didn’t know. My friend Mike Walker and his wife Mary came to my parent’s house, collected me in the back of their car, and drove me out for Ethiopian food on my birthday. It was truly special.

I bonded so much with Agatha, the cat, who I was cat sitting, in Luke and Danielle’s little guest room. She was my constant companion as I recovered. I read The Invention of Hugo Cabret. It is one of my favourite books to this day. It is easy, beautiful, densely illustrated, and I would get lost in it. I would read it over and over, or just open it and look at it. It’s still a comfort that I can’t quite describe. Calm, dark, stable. An adventure, but a safe one. (Fun fact, I buy copies of that book whenever I see them in second hand shops, to give to friends. I have one now that was just unknowingly claimed by someone.)

I was wearing my punk rock jacket, covered in patches and badges, when I was stabbed, but thought nothing of it. When I was in the courthouse, filing for a temporary restraining order, I put some coins in my pocket and they fell out onto the floor. The knife had gone straight through. I later stitched it back shut in red, and then silver thread over where the staples had gone. The punkest punk rock jacket. I still have it, but I don’t wear it anymore.

I came back to Asheville too soon, to do a Hellblinki show. I was incredibly out of it. I remember Ian (who I would date for 5 years, much later) visiting that show and hugging me and having no earthly idea what I had been through. (It should have been a warning, really, I think now, but from a place of happiness, love, and sarcasm.) I passed out on the couch at the venue. The bar staff and owner knew what was up and looked out for me, and told me if I ever needed anything, ANYTHING, just come to them. Just go to The Rocket Club and they would sort it. The Rocket Club is gone now, but I think to think that the offer still stands with Ken.

I recovered physically. I used a cane for a while, but eventually, now, I am 99%. That 1% shows up now and again, excruciating pain if getting a massage, or just weird weather patterns and scar tissue.

Emotionally and mentally I am okay. I have PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), but that’s not surprising. If and when I run into Daniel Rhinehardt, and I have the unbelievable misfortune of doing so now and again, I sort of “blackout”. I go into this incredible fight or flight response moment, and I always choose flight. It’s not an option. It is done for me. I “come to” as I am running down a street, hiding in a bathroom, or driving away (it’s terrifying to sort of “wake up” in your own body and find you’ve been driving a car.) These blackouts aren’t black, but I become much more a passenger and my lizard-brain takes over. I’m mostly aware of what is happening, but I am not the one in control.

Daniel Rhinehardt received no jail time. He was given probation, required counseling, and is a convicted felon. It’s not much. It’s not much, but at least it is not nothing. He does have a record. And he’s added to it since me. That’s the main reason I am writing this. Because he attacked women after me.

I would later have several women come tell me how he had abused them or been violent, but they were always too afraid to go to the police. This breaks my heart and makes me incredibly angry. I would have never been put in this danger if there was some record, if people warned each other about violent men. Thankfully we as a culture are better about that now, ten years later. The sentencing hearing at court would be laughable if it wasn’t so goddamn tragic. Rhinehardt's lawyer claimed he only drank that night because he didn’t want to be rude to his host, then asserting that his drunkenness somehow means his violence wasn’t actually him. David grabbed my hand. I could tell she was furious. I was in a weird state of disbelief and also just acceptance that the NC Court System did not and does not give a fuck about me.

After the court hearing I was dazed. But I remember we walked out into the gray February day, and got coffees. What else can you do? I had gotten knocked about so much over those 5 months that nothing shocked me. I just accepted it as best I could. And had coffee.

I got a restraining order, but every year when I went back to renew it some judge behind a desk made me feel like I didn’t deserve it, because if it had not been violated, why did I need it? One of them, the last one (before I stopped going, not needing to expose myself to that trauma over and over) called me “Miss Rhinehardt”, just truly horrible people who absolutely did not care about me. Again, North Carolina, I am looking at you with so much contempt for how you treat women.

All of my legal work was handled pro bono by Pisgah Legal, and I am thankful to them forever. I was terrified I would not qualify or I would have to prove this happened, or I don’t know what, but no, I was firmly supported and told that the 911 call and the photos were terrible, but also incredibly damning in my favor. An odd benefit, I guess. Also, since my attack is technically domestic violence, I had access to counseling through Helpmate and OurVoice, who are both fantastic resources.

I applied for a passport. Just seemed the right thing to do. I wanted to leave the country. I wanted to leave it all behind for just a bit. The passport came in the mail, but on the same day, a check from Victim’s Compensation reimbursing me, finally, for all the medical bills I had been forced to cover, arrived. I put the two together and a few months later left the country to go do a festival with band family in London and Whitby, and visit my dear friend Xavi Quero in Barcelona, Catalonia.

There’s more mess afterward as well... I can never quite write it all, and maybe what is left out will just fade away into obscurity. But this is enough. Except it is worth saying: a couple years later a woman reached out to me on Facebook because she was dating Daniel Rhinehardt and he was scaring her. She heard about me and wanted to know if “it was all true”. He had told her that he had a record, but said that I had cheated on him or some other nonsense, which is ridiculous for several reasons (we were not dating, gross, and if ever we were- HOW DOES THAT JUSTIFY ATTACKING A WOMAN!?) lots of red flags on that one, but this woman didn’t see them until too late. I did warn her, and she got away, or so I was told. But a few months later he was arrested for assault on a female, and she had a broken jaw. I don’t know if they are the same, but I’ve got decent powers of deduction.

He was arrested another time as well, as I was informed via mugshot (I don’t ever need to see that face again, thank you, but there it was) for another assault on a female. I don’t know the story, I don’t want to know… and I probably already know. It’s a pattern. I recognize patterns.

I mentioned that I’ve run into him. That’s god-awful. I have another friend who looks vaguely like him, which leads to a cute comedy of errors, that still involves a PTSD meltdown for me. I am getting better about it, and this friend knows what I am really asking if I say “Are you at Restaurant X? Or Hey, are you downtown?” because I am giving myself a precious few seconds hoping for a “yes, that’s me!” and then relief… though usually it ends up with me hyperventilating somewhere else, after having run off, literally without thinking.

But, Valerie! You’re usually so positive about things! What is the silver lining of all this?

No. I’m not there yet, but I am getting there. There is something horrible about having someone try to kill you. Someone you trusted. Something that breaks inside you and will never be the same. It’s strange to have a moment when someone else decided they wanted to control your fate, your life, and by control I mean try to fuck it up horrifically, or just… end it. Someone tried to end me. Me. That damaged my psyche for a long time… maybe permanently, though I have put my own spin on it.

There is something about this incident that left me feeling like less of a person, I was to another human being (no matter how terrible a person): dispensable. I will always struggle with that, copying it over to other relationships with decent enough people, this disposability. I don’t have inherently low self esteem or anything, but as I mentioned before, something, some trust in human decency… broke. And I’ve never been able to put it back together right.

I worry that I give this incident too much weight, but I swear to you, fereverently, it weighs only as much as it does. But that fluctuates. Am I digging up the past to make drama? No. I am trying to explain how I got here, how I became the person I am. I am always trying to accept this. Accept the reactions of the people around me. (The local paper referred to me, anonymously, as having been “stabbed in the buttocks”. This led to a weird sort of dark comedy, because how silly it all sounded. Some people would latch onto that, I would sometimes try to laugh about it too, a forced laugh. It was really horrific to have some friends very close to me miss the seriousness of my situation because of one shitty line of reporting. I laughed along, but I was really, really broken about that for a while.)

Trying to explain to a beautiful new friend that I am fine now, but I was not always fine, and that I fought like hell to be the shining happy blueberry girl that I get to be today. But I, like any woman who has ever stepped forward and said: “Hold on, this man did X to me”, I feel like I am fighting a world that will not believe me, despite as my lawyer mentioned, the overwhelming amount of proof, evidence, the fact that this did happen, is documented, and yet people still turn a blind eye, or make excuses. It is maddening. It is soul destroying.

I have people I meet who inadvertently overstep. (I have a creepy neighbour who was following that pattern of violence I mentioned, and I am completely terrified of him.) I still have trouble dealing with them. Almost always men. Men who want to get too close, who miss social cues, who are creepy, who seem to want something from me. I am working on accepting that a man who is interested in me, when I am not interested in him, is not necessarily a threat. They are not all threats. They are not going to try to murder you just because you turn them down. But I am not there yet. I am still working on that. It’s a work in progress...

My positive spin? Pragmatism. I have a deeply ingrained understanding that tomorrow is promised to no one. So now, while I do so responsibly, I am pretty good about going after what I want, in good ways. It took me awhile to work back to this, but I have found a healthy balance of being responsible, and chasing after whimsy because who knows, the world could end tomorrow. My friend, who I mentioned at the top, told me once that I was brave, having caught up to him on a random adventure by myself on the other side of the world. Bravery never occurred to me. It was a factor, sure, I’m brave, but it was really: “No, I want to see this friend. And I could die next week.” I don’t think like that… not really, that I might die next week, month, year… but at the same time I do, but with different wording. I just think “I want this experience in my life, and now might be the only chance I get, so I am going to make it happen to the best of my ability.”

Also, I adventure. I do incredible things, and my life has been pretty spectacular so far. I am proud of the work I have done, the art I have made, and I treasure the friendships I’ve found and the experiences I’ve had. That is my revenge. Daniel Rhinehardt tried to end me. Tried to irreversibly ruin my life, and he failed. And, while it took some time to pull my parts back together, I have done more than just survive him, I have thrived.

A friend mentioned that to me after I had a particularly good day recently (I played puppets with my art hero and fairygodfather, who I will not mention here for the same google search result reasons), she said something along the lines of “You’re doing a lot more than just surviving.” It caught me off guard, I forgot she even knew about my whole getting-stabbed incident… I don’t mind people knowing, it is a part of who I am now. I thought about it, and said “yes.” It’s true. That’s my goal. That’s what I am doing. And I’m okay with that.

I have mentioned a few times that one of the impetus of this tirade of tragedy is this new friend of mine, who is learning English, so I wanted to have this written down, messy as it may be, so that I am not dumping a bunch of English words on him with a context that is not easily understood with new words, (and made up words as I try to describe messy feelings not found in a textbook)… but also for my English speaking friends, because I’ve never really unloaded the whole story, or even this much of the story to anyone… I am open to sharing it, but really, sharing it is exhausting. I get a weird surge of adrenaline when I explain it, but that adrenaline is coming from fear, mistrust, vulnerability… and it just vibrates through my system with no outlet until I realize I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I’m just wiped out.

But this friend. I am going to visit him and others in a different location, still on the other side of the world, in a few months. We met in Japan, so why not continue meeting in far off countries where I have a clumsy or nearly nonexistent grasp of the language? What could possibly go wrong? I was explaining this to my mother a week or so ago, my trip plans, dates I’m looking at, etc, and she asked me (supportively) a very motherly question: “Do you trust this person?”

And I answered without even thinking, or maybe I did think, but it was reactionary: “Yes. Implicitly.” I told her. And he’s not the first stranger-turned-friend that I have trusted implicitly, there have been several over the past few years. Like-minded individuals who I am introduced to, or who I stumble upon and I get them, they get me, and I trust them inherently, implicitly, and with all my heart. This has been years in the works, to get back to this point, where I can just accept a person who is good, who will look out for me, who cares for me without wanting anything in return. A mutual trust and vulnerability. I am lucky to have this back.

I am in a good place now. I have been in a good place for a while. This series of terrible moments from ten years ago left a mark, and changed who I am, but also changed me into who I am today. And I am happy with the person I ended up as. I’m not thanking any horrific person for trying to kill me, goodness no. He’s a terrible human being, and every woman should stay well away from him.

I guess there is one thing undeniably positive thing I have taken away from this horrific series of events. I’ve been through some rough times in my life since then, but nothing ever like that. And to all of it I have been able to say: “I’ve survived worse than this.”

And it’s gotten me through a lot.

It has sort of changed my perspective, it can sometimes be a comfort or a place of strength.

Also, I quietly know that I would win every argument of “worst housemate ever”.

That’s it, really. No overarching summary or call to action… maybe “be kind.” Try being a good person to each other, and if you see someone leaning towards violence, stop it. Call the cops, I don’t like cops either, but you shut that down when you see it. Put it on their record. Give them a record. They’ve earned it. Make them show up in that cursory google search.

Give the next woman a fighting chance.

afterward, another reason why I wrote this, as I explained in my letter to my aforementioned friend:

...and I remember thinking to myself: "oh, scars..." and looking at you and wishing this information was already in your head, but no, I would have to put it there. So I said something like: "there is not enough time" and I left it there. But I hope you also know, from having met me, that I'm alright now. I wasn't for a while. But I am now.

I hope you all understand.

#domestic violence #metoo #me too #assault #tw #it gets better #ten years later #tenyearsago #birthday #violence #violence against women

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mst3kproject · 6 years

Photo

Dance Hall Racket

Remember Timothy Farrell as gangster Umberto Scalli from Racket Girls? He's back with a new scheme in Dance Hall Racket!

What's that? You want to know how he could be back in 1954's Dance Hall Racket when he was shot and killed in 1951's Racket Girls? So do I. My first theory was that Dance Hall Racket was actually a prequel to Racket Girls rather than a sequel, but he dies at the end of this one, too. Farrell also played Scalli in a third movie, 1949's The Devil's Sleep (which I guess is actually the first Scalli movie, being as it was made before the other two). I haven't seen that one, but I'll look for it, and if he doesn't die at the end I will be extremely disappointed.

Scalli's scheme this time is using a nightclub as a front to launder the money he makes by smuggling diamonds inside dogs' ears (this actually happens), but if he wants his longtime girlfriend Fortuna to marry him, he's gonna need more than that. An old friend of Scalli's, Victor Pappas, is about to be released from prison – if Scalli can make Pappas tell where he hid the loot from their last heist, he'll be rich enough to win her over, but little does he know, his criminal empire is about to topple (again). Undercover cop Charlie Edson is investigating him, looking for the murderer of a sailor. You'd think being killed once would be enough to teach Scalli that crime doesn't pay.

The cops use the phrase 'sea men' to refer to sailors. I'm imagining Tom and Crow snickering over that while Joel tries his best to keep them from making jokes too overt for television.

“But Joel, he said...”

“I know he did, Crow, but there are kids in the audience!”

I went into this movie trying not to remember the pain of watching Racket Girls, but I really expected more of the same. Because of this, the first quarter hour or so of Dance Hall Racket was actually a pleasant surprise. Racket Girls began with a scene of wrestling that really contributed nothing at all – Dance Hall Racket, however, got right on with actually telling its story! The exposition about Scalli, Pappas, and Fortuna wasn’t too annoying, we got to see the sailor killed and Edson sent in undercover, and I began to hope that this might be an actual movie. Sadly, having set up all of that, the story came to a dead screeching halt and began puttering around killing time.

It does this in two main ways: one is watching women change. These scenes are filled with weird cuts in which the characters’ clothes appear and vanish again, while the actresses remain standing in the same spot. They’re often not wearing any less clothing, and the dialogue continues, so we’re not supposed to think that any time has passed. I think the cuts may have less to do with modesty than with a camera that could only film a certain number of seconds in one take. There’s also a scene in which two drunk women have some kind of limp-wristed parody of a catfight which is so bad it’s actually laugh-out-loud funny.

The other way the movie fills time is with Punchy, a supposed ‘comic relief’ character who is so devoid of humour I think I’ve forgotten how to tell a joke.

So yeah, all this goes on for another half an hour, during which time very little happens that’s actually relevant to the plot. Occasionally hints of it peek out of the foliage, but mostly we’re listening to Punchy fail to be funny, or watching Scalli’s goons threaten women with knives when he thinks they’re stealing from him (like Jackie and her Swanky Apartment in Racket Girls, I guess). Then when we’ve almost forgotten about him, Pappas finally shows up and the movie actually takes a surprising turn, when jealous and trigger-happy thug Vinnie takes exception to Scalli appointing his girlfriend Rose as Pappas’ date for the evening.

This is a surprisingly good piece of storytelling for this movie – Vinnie’s possessiveness of Rose was set up earlier, although by this point we’ve pretty much forgotten about that, too. So much time was spent on other details of the characters’ lives and relationships that turned out to be irrelevant, we can’t be blamed for assuming Vinnie and Rose are more of the same. Seeing it paid off like that was actually kind of satisfying. Unfortunately, it also serves to emphasize just how many other things were set up in the movie that didn’t pay off, many of which seemed like they ought to be important.

What, for example, happened to Fortuna? We only saw her in one scene and then she vanished utterly. She was the one Scalli was trying to please, so you’d think we’d see her hanging around and pestering him. What happened to Icepick, the guy who wanted to leave the racket and get married? His story was set up in a way that makes us sure something terrible is going to happen to him, but the movie never gets around to it. What’s up with Pappas being unable to speak? We’re told twice that he had his tongue cut out and that really sounds like it ought to be a plot point but it never is. When he made sure Vinnie got shot I thought for a moment it would turn out that he’d agreed to work for the cops in order to get out of jail, but the movie ends without going into it.

It’s also another movie that can’t really be said to have a hero. We don’t know Edson at all – we don’t even learn his name until well after he’s introduced and nothing he does ever gives him a personality. He’s just A Cop. The movie is much more interested in the various double-crossings among the nasty types who work for Scalli. None of these people can really be considered a protagonist, since they’re all horrible and never sympathetic in the least, but they at least have relationships and motivations.

For all that, though, this is still a better movie than Racket Girls! The irrelevant dancing is somehow much more bearable than irrelevant wrestling was, maybe because the dancing isn’t a contest and we don’t feel we’re supposed to have something invested in it when we can’t. More importantly, we don’t have a Peaches Page in this movie. There are plenty of half-clothed women in it, and the movie leers at them unapologetically, but there’s no single one who is set up as a potential hero only to be exploited and forgotten about. In this sense, Dance Hall Racket feels a little more honest and a little less disappointing. It’s a terrible, terrible movie, but it’s not quite as bad as I know it could have been.

Between this and Racket Girls, I also think I’m starting to get an inkling of what, if indeed anything, the ‘Scalli Trilogy’ is trying to say. The films are obviously about how crime doesn’t pay, but the comeuppances in them are not brought about by the police but by Scalli’s fellow criminals. Crime doesn’t pay, but organized crime in particular cannot possibly pay because everybody in the organization is a criminal, and criminals are by nature untrustworthy and therefore unable to work together. Maybe this is what’s being emphasized by Lois the thief in this movie, or Jackie and her Swanky Apartment in Racket Girls – there can be no cooperation when everybody is out for themselves.

I also have to wonder what’s going on with the thing where Scalli dies in Movie One only to reappear in Movie Two a few years later and die again. The two can’t possibly be in continuity with each other unless Scalli respawns like a video game character every time he’s killed, so what gives? Is Dance Hall Racket supposed to be a remake? That kind of makes sense when you consider how it does try to start correcting some of its predecessor’s mistakes. Is this an alternate universe, demonstrating that crime doesn’t pay in any possible world? Has Scalli been reincarnated, only to learn nothing from the mistakes of his previous lifetime? This fascinates me far more than it should.

You may wonder why I bother to think about it when the real answer is obviously just that the film-makers and actor Timothy Farrell were just too damned lazy to come up with a new character. It’s true that there’s probably no more to it than that, and yet I’m not totally sure, because the movie does make a point of ending where it began. With Scalli and Vinnie both dead and Icepick out of the racket, management of the club falls to the next guy down on the totem pole, bouncer Bert. We’ve heard the girls who work there talk about him and how he keeps everybody in line – both the customers and the girls themselves. The policeman who has supposedly been narrating the whole story says they figure Bert is continuing to launder money and sooner or later he’ll be next on their list, and thus the whole cycle starts again.

I gotta see that third (first) Scalli movie. Maybe that one will tell me whether there’s really anything going on there. Or maybe, considering how much of an improvement this one was over Racket Girls, it’ll just be totally unwatchable. The only thing I can be absolutely certain of is that Dance Hall Racket would have made for some awesome MST3K.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #dance hall racket #50s

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stone-man-warrior · 3 years

Text

February 8, 2021: 3:13 pm:

===================================================

Joe Biden terror team on Twitter effectively print up some “Get Out of Jail Free Cards” for their terror operatives. That way, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who are occupying and controlling all of the State Police Field Offices and State Capitol HQ’s around USA, can make arrests, and look pretty while they do it, as a good little “My Little Pony Dolls and Action Figures” are supposed to look at a Valentines Sale Event at the Hallmark Store.

The terror soldiers and special operatives are all turned loose after the show is over, someone else’s police record is used to ID who was arrested.

That way, the perception of police making arrests, makes them appear as though the fake Canadian Death Squads that they truly are, can remain stealth, while looking like hero’s.

They are all a bunch of Candy Ass Terror Pansies. none of the State Police have any balls.

https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1358834233184288770

======

3:27 pm:

Joe Biden is not in the White House. He is not US President.

It’s all fake.

Donald Trump was scheduled to continue for awhile, then Mitt Romney was supposed to have been placed somewhere in north America as King of a new nation called “French north American Republic Territory”.

Something has gone wrong with that plan. It’s a plan that is more than fifty years underway, and was devised by the time Pearl Harbor was said to have been attacked by Japanese.

Donald Trump exploded in a bus in Grants Pass Oregon on January 6, 2021. He is dead.

There is more complication to that, as it is likely that the Donald Trump had already been dead for a number of years, and it was either Lou Dobbs or Sam Donaldson who had been portraying Donald Trump as US President.

Who ever it really was is not as important as is the idea that the perceived US President was killed on January 6 in Oregon, no one has noticed, and instead of any truth showing up, the SAG media rolled out a pre-packaged event, all filmed many years ago, claiming that the White House had been raided by members of the band “Village People” doing a cover of their own song, YMCA.

All of that bullshit is still continuing with more ridiculous fake news stories.

They are going to have an impeachment trial tomorrow, so they say.

It’s all pre-arraged. All of whatever will be presented is derived of edited bits of old video.

A national distraction.

Circus performance.

Dog & Pony Show.

There will be other entertainment on the side at “The Midway” somewhere else, while the national distraction draws in victims to a show that is not really there.

Kauai Ranch is where the action is. That is where the show is controlled from, the puppet masters are tucked away on a tropical paradise, while the puppets do as they are told to do around the nation.

Kauai Ranch has a natural border of the Pacific Ocean to protect the Puppet Masters (Amp Guru) from any surprise visits.

Commands from there, are sorted out and deployed from Hollywood mostly for USA terror.

California terror leaders put a fence around California, it works the same way as does the Pacific Ocean.

The “Agricultural Checkpoints” that are positioned at every entrance to California are there specifically to ensure that Hollywood does not get any surprise visitors, everyone needs to check in with the Agricultural Checkpoint Officers.

Two pieces of California Hollywood Command Center Defensive installations put in place to protect terrorists at the command leading levels from surprises, in Hollywood.

They told everyone that this little bug was going to kill all of the food.

They went door to door, and house to house to spray every tree in every yard in every neighborhood in San Fernando Valley, with insecticide.

They did not go into the forests, or into any remote areas to spray every tree, they only sprayed the residential housing area trees, for the Take-Out of remaining US Citizens there.

Whole families murdered in The Valley in the 1970′s.

They blamed it on this imaginary bug, the Titsey Fly (Teensie Fly):

Then, they spent many millions of dollars to build out the fake California Agricultural Check Stations.

That’s people like Tom Hanks and Betty White doing that kind of mass murder, but those guys are not the brand of murderers that anyone is interested in stopping, instead, we let them entertain us as they murder and rape all of the children.

========

4:52 pm:

Read of promotional email from Zzounds Music suggests that members of Jim Sigel Automotive Center terror cell are to be called to service to take an offensive position at Myers 560 Jackpine.

They have Pixel Suit technology camouflage, and have special Aircraft support. My guess about the airplanes is they are the BeachCraft King Air with recessed wing mounted fifty caliber guns in each wing, and fly out of Del norte County Regional Airport near Pelican Bay Prison, where the terror submarines are deployed from.

The local Jim Sigal Auto Center is a new car dealer on the surface, but they are in the business of murdering small children, that seems to be their specialty nich for the terror army, as I have seen hundreds of Boy Scouts of America brutally killed at events held at the Jim Sigal Auto Center in the past.

“Wheel of Fortune” is a favorite communication shell of language used at Jim Sigal for saying terror commands. Any wheel of fortune and terms that can be associated to a wheel of fortune, not limited to the game show or Las Vegas gaming wheel.

Jim Sigal is one of the few places I have seen the fifty caliber Deuce Machine Guns used. The other places are Josephine County Sheriff Office parking lot, at Li’l Pantry Monument Market at I-5 exit 61, and on a Robinson Helicopter at Asante Three Rivers Medical Center parking lot, and that was in association to that helicopter shooting at random vehicles along Grants Pass Pkwy and around that area many years ago.

Hillary Clinton used a wing-over small Cesna sort of airplane with a Deuce to shoot random freeway travelers on I-5 between exit 61 and exit 66 in around 2007 - 2008 when Beta Twitter was used as a command source vehicle for killing off the remaining US Citizens in Oregon at the time.

Those kinds of people are called to service at Myers 560 Jackpine.

===================================================

4:55 pm:

They are all a bunch of Candy Ass Terror Pansy’s who cry like school girls when they get hurt, so, if you take away their nitrous oxide, they have absolutely nothing behind their offensive.

Big piles of money cannot buy a set of balls.

So, I am a disabled guy with Medicare insurance, I’ll deal with it the same as I always do, without any help from anyone.

That’s how it has to be, only because no one is interested in preserving USA, or restoring freedom, I’ll do it for myself, so that I can continue to try to help others.

=================

5:12 pm:

Today’s terror theme command language includes this:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Car_Wash_(soundtrack)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xI6vfM52_us

youtube

====================================

5:17 pm:

I want to try to explain a practical way that Christianity poisons the human mind.

One single word, “Suffering”, can be used as an example of practicality that advances terrorism.

You need do some experiments, go ask a few people what suffering is.

Most Christians will say something like: “When someone is hit by a bus in the street, and are laying there all bleeding, broken, and the ambulance has not been called yet, those people are suffering when that happens”

At some point in your experiment, you may encounter an Asian person, who will answer the question from perspective of The Tao. They will say something like: “When you are trying to get some sleep, but your electric bill was big, and the COVID rules prevent regular income to pay the electric bill, so, I can‘t sleep because I am suffering, that is suffering”

It’s completely different. The Christian way is to wait until everything is broken and bleeding, and there is no help in sight, while the way of The Tao is to see there is suffering early, when it prevents a person from getting some rest.

So, apply that to thinking about: “What is a disabled person?”.

Everyone seems to believe that the disabled person must be confined to a wheel chair or is bed ridden and is unable to move or think on their own, requires constant help to do every last thing from eating to washing to changing clothes and certainly disabled persons cannot drive their own car, they are disabled.

That is not the definition of a disabled person, it’s only the perspective built on a Christian upbringing where suffering is only when there is bleeding and broken bones with no help in sight.

Disabled, in USA, for the rules and laws associated with it, only means that the disabled persons are not employable. There are many reasons that a person might not be employable, the main reason, are the laws and rules of USA are such that an employer must provide insurance for all of the employees, the Workers Compensation Insurance. So, when a person is deemed disabled, after tons of examinations, dozens of different doctors, many medical analysis and imagining studies are done, and after about two years of ongoing medical examinations, then, the disabled person is deemed “Un-insurable” in a employment environment.

Insurance, laws, rules, regulations, Doctors, medical science, electronic imaging, laboratory testing, and a lot of time, are what disability is based on.

Those are the rules.

So, when the Christian nsa are told to go find the disabled guy to speak with him, or to arrest him, or whatever it is that they were told to do, they are always looking for a wheelchair, or a bed, or a caregiver, and they never actually look for a human being to speak with, they are only interested in apparatus, such as a wheelchair, all because they have no idea what suffering is really about.

The insurance company is not concerned about if someone is considered crazy, that is handled by a different state or federal institution, not the insurance company. The insurance company only wants to determine if the employee could get hurt worse if that person continues to be employed, or worse, some one else could get hurt if the disabled person is not able to hold up their end of the weight as the work is done, in which case the insurance company is going to have to pay out some workers compensation and pay medical costs of the people who could get hurt while working alongside a disabled person.

Then once someone is considered as disabled person, somehow, no matter what kind of condition that person was in before they became disabled, somehow that changes the perspective of the Christian nsa who won‘t listen to anything that is said by someone who is said to be a un-insurable disabled person. That suits the terrorism perfectly, because the terror is partly based on killing and replacing disabled persons so that the Canadian terror soldiers can take the place of the disabled people. Their income is perpetuated, and their prescriptions are maximized, so the that leading terrorists can get high with prescriptions that belonged to a murdered disabled or elderly person in USA.

So, it turns out that any surviving US Citizens who have endured some terrorism are the leading authorities about the intricacies of modern terrorism, and those knowledgeable authority figures, who are eye-witness to the terror, and are experienced, are overlooked, passed by, by the candy ass pansy’s who are sworn to protect all of the US Citizens, but they are too fucking stupid to see what is in front of them.

Assholes.

Go get a copy of The Tao. Get a copy of the Damapada to go with it.

Then, meditate, start with: “You are a daisy” and go from there.

Assholes.

=======

6:13 pm:

The way things are now, US national security, the US government, all of the US Military are all disabled people, are unable to do their job, but their disability is not a physical limitation, is not a physical disability, it’s a mental condition, the US national security are unable to see the threats of danger, unable to do the jobs they were hired for, yet they are among the most physically fit people there are in USA, so, they are all a bunch of crazy lunatic terror assistants, helping to advance terrorism through a conscience decision to be derelict in their duty to protect not only the populations, but they choose to refuse to help themselves to stay alive when the terror army jumps out at them, despite having all of the information needed to stay alive handed to them, for free.

================

6:26 pm:

Mr. national Security,

This past week, I defended myself against many terror soldiers, I fought in hand to hand combat with weapons against armed terror soldiers wielding swords and poison gasses, and I killed about twenty terror soldiers in defense just in the past few days.

Mr. nsa, what have you done, in your lifetime, to protect USA, or your own family?

I want a response to the question. What have you done in your lifetime to protect USA from terror take over?

=====================

7:23 pm:

Local conditions:

It’s a little warmer outside, about 38 degrees I’ll guess, did not look at the the thermometer. Skies are clear, there is no wind.

Monroe is working with Freeberg terror cells, in addition to others in vehicles in motion on Russell Road, two vehicles moving south toward Donkey George’s terror cell. Donkey George used to be a Freeberg/Phillips terror cell member when he and the donkeys were alive.

The scenario is one that is repeated thousands of times by all of the terror cells over many years, is basically a “bait” attempt to lure me to defend at a time when there is no perceived immediate threat, after much unseen, hidden provocation takes place.

Very simple, first one of the Monroe’s walks innocently from the Monroe main residence to the Offensive Travel Trailer just a moment or two after their surveillance equipment is used to know when I stepped outside for a walk to the mailbox, then the youngest Monroe current “Deb” walks to the trailer, stopping to pet a chicken in the chicken coup along the way.

Then, the cars on Russell go into motion, to show me that “Deb” not only has a lot of surveillance equipment pointed at my house, but also that there are a number of people who are backing her up as the Monroe terror keeps me confined to my home.

That is when Freeberg, or other terror neighbor, drives from Sunflower, or Strong’s terror cell, to go look inside of as many mailboxes as is possible just at the moment when I am stepping out into the roadway to go to the mailbox, where there are more surveillance listening devices inside of the mailboxes on Jackpine. When Freeberg is the one at the mailbox, she always gets out of the car to check the mail, and plays role of a drunk girl on her way home from Grandma’s House, she always opens up the mailbox that is marked for packages, a larger mailbox among the others. She always takes what packages are in there to her car, to read the label, then returns a package to the package box, there are no guarantees that the one she puts back in there is the same one she takes to her car.

They can do a lot with that much basis to start with, while provoking me to retaliate from years of abuse. The terror bastards use the women, while the Royal Canadian Mounted Police imposter State police are waiting at Strong’s for the call to advance if I get near where Freeberg is at.

Freeberg hangs around in my front yard while wearing a Ku Klux Klan robe while I am inside my house, passers by think it’s me when it’s Freeberg doing that, with a sickle blade.

She is also the General of the terror air force.

That “Get Out of Jail Free Card“ from Joe Biden was the command to Freeberg to do a terror scenario. In absence of Joan Phillips, Janice “Jay Bob” Freeberg is the leading local terror general for as far as perhaps the entire state of Oregon, she is Regional General of the terror air-force, includes Josephine and Jackson County pilots at minimum, and can reach Searchlight Nevada and Del norte County Regional Airport terror pilots on short notice.

There are still no signs of anyone at Chapman’s terror cell.

Whoever that is driving Freeberg’s car and staying at 535 Jackpine, is only “The Current Janice Freeberg”. I suspect that person I saw tonight is a male, is about 60 years old white, about 190 lbs, and is very bow-legged man with short grey hair about 5′ 10″ tall, and that is also the description of Janice Freeberg, except the real one is or was a female who used to have red hair many years ago.

If that is the man I think it might be, he is part of the In-n-Out Burger terror cell in Grants Pass, and has an accomplice who is a blonde woman who looks just exactly like Jill Biden.

================

8:26 pm:

Something notable about the Jackpine mailboxes is worth documenting here:

For twenty four years, that bank of 17 or 18 mailboxes out front has been a source of non stop ongoing terror communication, with electronics hidden inside of them, as a place where outsider terror cell members are required to check in, by stopping at the mailboxes there to say who they are and why they are on Jackpine, a system put in place to protect these GLOBAL terror leaders that live on Jackpine, most notably being Phillips as a global terror leader, Myers as nbc/Universal/Comcast terror leader, and Freeberg as the air force General for the Global terror cells around here.

Recently, this past month at some point, three of the residences removed their mailboxes from the plank of wood that they have been attached to for more than twenty-four years. In the past, I have requested many times at the post office to allow that my mailbox could be placed at the end of my driveway rather than in that group of others about 100 feet from my driveway, and the answer was always “no”, you cannot do that, it will spoil the mail carriers route”.

I also have suggested to put all of the mailboxes closer to Russell road, because they have been such an ongoing source of attacking at my house as the neighbors used to tend to innocently gather there in front of my house, while others are attacking me inside my house, while those people use electronic communication to help with the attacking at my house.

The answer is always “no, it needs to stay the way it is” when I ask the post office about some help to stop terrorism. Then, they send more assassins from the Goon Squad in Portland, the Postal Police are there and respond to reports of terror by sending assassins to the victims house.

But, 376 Chartrand, 329 Liter, and 333 Baum, have all removed their mailboxes from the place they have been for as long as mail has been delivered on Jackpine, to my knowledge, since 1964.

The other mailboxes are all still there on the plank in front of my house where they always have been, while 376, 329, and 333 have put their mailboxes on individual posts the way they should have been to begin with.

My question about that is why did all three of those properties all do that at the same time? How did they get informed that it was OK to move the mailboxes? Why didn‘t I get the memo the explains the option of moving my mailbox to an individual post mount in front of my own driveway?

I want to know how the three properties were informed about the option to move the mailbox.

Also notable, is Chartrand 376 put that mailbox on what looks like the wrong side of the road to me. To my knowledge, mailboxes are supposed to be installed on the Odd numbered address side of the roadway, 376 put two three mailboxes out front there, after removing them from the regular place where all of the others are at. Maybe since the road is a dead end road, the mailbox can go on the even numbered address side of the road, I don‘t know, but I do know that whatever is going on with the relocation of those three mailboxes is more terrorism and is designed to fool the nsa who insist on being fooled all of the time because the continue to trust the local authorities, who are terrorists that took over the local authorities, and because the nsa refuses to do their job, are derelict in their duties, and simply refuse to do their own research.

My guess is that nsa is watching someone in Arizona, protecting some terror bastards at the corner of Calle Amigo and Cam Villejo and are told that is my new address in Bullhead City AZ, when that address is a Google terror cell,. where Global terrorism is planed and carried out from.

The nsa are disabled, they are unable to perform their duties, they have a mental condition that makes them a danger to themselves and a danger to the people they have sworn to protect, are completely and utterly useless.

By the way, that Calle Amigo corner of Cam Villejo Google terror cell, is the place where I learned of the attack that happened at Coronado Island when the US navy bases there were taken over many years ago, so I called the base on the phone to warn them about the massive army of terror soldiers who were there on the island armed with poison gas, and they did not believe what I was telling them, so I drove from Arizona to Coronado Island to warn them in person, and they still did not believe what I was telling them... the next day, I witness about 300 US navy personnel beheaded on the main street in front of the Berkshire Hathaway Real Estate Office there. And, I also witnessed the very biggest airplane I have ever seen fly across the bay to crash and do cartwheels at the US base that is across the bay from the island. I saw a lot more than that, those are the highlites, and still, since that time so long ago, no one has noticed the all of the US Bases on Coronado Island have been hijacked, and are occupied by Canadian imposters, the same condition that is at 29 Palms, and Edwards AFB.

nsa is derelict, useless, and unable to perform their duties, are a danger to themselves and those around them.

===========================

9:25 pm:

This below is Twitter Trend that says “Black Lightning airing on the C W”

That is in response to this information about Coronado navy base. The time stamp is not real, Google is able to put whatever time they want on the information they present.

The translation is: “Dark matter about the Holy See and Kill & Replace” it means I wrote that about Coronado Island, and Damage Control for that is requested by the Twitter internet scouts who saw what I wrote.

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angelmariawinchester · 7 years

Text

Imagines Masterlist #2

Love Triangle

Student!Reader in a love triangle with Student!Dean and Teacher!Castiel.

Reader cheating on Dean with Sam.

Having depression issues and falling in love with Dean but not telling him. Dean feels the same but won’t speak because of Sam’s feelings for you.

French Mistake in reverse, with Reader ending up in the Endverse episode.

You leave the bunker to protect Sam and Dean who have fallen in love with you.

You live in a universe where everybody has one soulmate. You, however, have two. Dean and Sam Winchester.(Part 1)

You live in a universe where everybody has one soulmate. You, however, have two. Dean and Sam Winchester. (Part 2)

Imagine working with the Winchesters and starting to develop feelings for Dean but are unable to hide your shock as you meet Castiel (who reminds you of someone you used to be with) and start to have feelings for him as well.

Imagine Sam cheating on you and Castiel being there to comfort you.

Imagine dating Sam and finding out you’re and angel and Lucifer’s soulmate.

Imagine speaking different languages fluently and the boys find out, only to be grately impressed.

Imagine Lucifer making Sam hallucinate you are cheating on him with Lucifer.

Imagining spliting up with the guys on a hunt and later they find you laying on the floor unconscious. You’ve been electrocuted and they try their best to get you to the hospital as soon as possible.

Imagine being Sam’s girlfriend in Standford and him getting jealous when you meet Dean the night he comes to Sam, as he flirts with you

Imagine being a strong and loyal angel. You and your brother Castiel are Dean and Sam’s guardian angels so when someone tries to harm them you and Cas get very protective of both brothers.

Imagine teasing Dean and Castiel about being in love while in reality they have feelings for you.

Imagine soulless Sam seducing you, despite knowing how Dean really feels for you. He gets furious when he finds out you two actually slept together.

Imagine having telekinetic powers and having it from teh boys until you have to use them to same them in a hunt.

Imagine finding out that the two dogs you adopted were Dean and Sam from Supernatural.

Imagine flirting with Dean and Sam in leather jackets.

Imagine Dean walking in on you and seeing you only in your underwear. It wouldn’t be such a problem with his feelings for you if you weren’t dating his brother.

Imagine the boys being excited when you tell them you want to spent the Holidays with them.

Imagine meeting Dean and Sam in jail. (Based on 12x09)

Imagine Mary realizing both of her sons, Sam and Dean, are in love with the same girl, you.

Imagine Mary realizing both of her sons, Sam and Dean, are in love with the same girl, you. (Part 2)

Family/Friendship

You are Sam and Dean’s teen sister and you get drunk at a party.

You are Dean’s 18-year-old daughter and think that he does not care about you. Only for him to prove you wrong.

Imagine introducing your half-siblings Oliver and Thea Queen to your half-brothers Sam and Dean.

Imagine being partners with Dean and Sam and being sent in a universe where they are proud members of the ghostfacers.

Imagine being Crowley’s daughter and meeting Team Free Will.

Imagine being the fifth archangel and stopping your brothers, Lucifer and Gabriel, from killing each other.

Imagine being Claire’s sister and Dean has to take care for both you and her when Sam and Cas are gone.

Imagine being Sam’s and Dean’s 10-year-old sister and being really smart so you can help them on hunts.

Imagine your brother’s Sam and Dean surprising you on your birthday.

Imagine spending some quality time with your brothers, Sam and Dean.

Imagine getting bullied at school and your father, Lucifer, comforting you.

Imagine trying to find Lucifer’s daughter, only to find out it is actually you.

Imagine being the Winchesters’ sister and going on a hunt in secret, only to find them there too.

Imagine being Dean and Sam’s little sister and Amara bringing you back instead of Mary.

Actors/Real People

Being in love with Jensen.

Jensen follows you on twitter.

Jensen getting flustered.

Oh Westy Deleted Scene - Misha taking West to sleep.

Misha being nervous because Reader has not accompanied him on a Con, only for you to surprise him.

You are Jensen’s girlfriend and record a song with him at Jason Manns’ studio.

You are Misha’s wife and an actress on Supernatural.

You are Misha’s wife and shoot a scene with him where Castiel dies. It is so emotional that you can’t stop crying even after the scene is over and Misha comforts you.

Misha comes late from work to find you, his wife, waiting for him.

Imagine the SPN cast finding out that you, the newest member to the show, have extreme depression and comforting you.

You are Misha’s wife and an actress on Supernatural. (different)

You in the French Mistake and have to spend the night with your fake-husband Sebastian Roche.

You fall in love with Mark Sheppard before being thrown into the SPN world where you are married to Crowley.

You are friends with J2M2.

Misha is your first kiss.

J2M2 comfort you during a panic attack.

J2M do silly things to calm you down.

You are Misha’s wife and an actress on SPN. You can’t attend a Con due to having given birth to his child recently.

You are a famous model and actress and fall in love with Jensen when you join the show.

You are a famous model and actress and you and Jensen fall in love but don’t tell anybody because you are a lot younger than him.

You are a famous singer and meet Jared at the People’s Choice Awards.

You are married to Grant Gustin and the SPN cast can’t stop talking about it during a Con.

You get adopted by Richard Speight Jr.

Misha defends you, his pansexual co-star, from homophobs at a Con.

You watch Doctor Who with Mark Sheppard.

Jensen and Rider!Reader fall in love.

J2M2, Rob and Richard comforting you when you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you.

You are pregnant and J2 and your husband, Grant Gustin, get overprotective.

An interviewer congratulates Misha for being recently married to you.

Misha comforts you, his girlfriend, for getting hate online.

You keep yours and Jared’s relationship a secret

You give birth to your twins and your husband, Grant Gustin, and J2 can’t stop crying.

Imagine talking through camera with Jensen and your friend embarrassing you in front of him.

. Imagine Jensen blurting out your name when asked who his celebrity crush is.

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic. (Part 1)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic. (Part 2)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Part 3)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Part 4)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Part 5)

Chris Pratt proposes to you on set of Jurassic World.

Your husband, Chris Pratt, talking about you during an interview.

You have an interview with your boyfriend Chris Pratt after having recently announced you’re together.

You tell Chris Pratt you are pregnant.

Chris Pratt messes his lines because he cannot take his mind off of you.

Chris calling you his ‘soon-to-be-wife’ in a talk show all the time.

You are best friends with Robert Downey Jr and Jensen Ackles.

You run into Tom Hiddleston while at a bookstore and start a conversation with him which lead to him giving you his number.

You find out Tom Hiddleston is your new Literature teacher.

Imagine being best friends with Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Robert Downey Jr and Chris Evans. And them more often than not flirting with you.

Imagine being best friends with Jensen Ackles and Tom Hiddleston.

Imagine being a singer and actress and Fall Out Boy is going to be featuring in one of your songs which makes Jensen, your co-star, jealous because he knows of your crush on Patrick Stump.

Imagine being a singer and actress and Fall Out Boy is going to be featuring in one of your songs which makes Jensen, your co-star, jealous because he knows of your crush on Patrick Stump. (Part 2)

Imagine Dylan O’Brien getting distarcted by looking at you at a Con.

Imagine being cast in Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials as Thomas’ love interest and Dylan acting awkward around you because he has a crush on you.

Imagine being casted for the Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials and being happy to see your best friend, and secret crush, Thomas Brodie-Sangster after years.

Imagine dating Dylan O’Brien but also having feelings for your best friend Thomas Brodie-Sangster.

Imagine getting into a heated argument with Tom about him being constantly away and him letting it slip that he’s thought of quiting so as nt to be away from you for that long.

Imagine being an actress in Supernatural and goofing around with the boys, causing it to be gag reel.

Imagine Jensen confessing his feelings for you, his costar, during a Con.

Imagine being Jared’s wife and getting hate and he defends you.

Imagine being an actress in Supernatural and dating Jared, although your character is dating Dean. Which of course makes Jared occasionally jealous.

Imagine meeting Jensen in a masquerade ball and being chosen, a few days later, to play Dean’s love interest in the show. Seeing him again.

Imagine dancing with Jared to ‘Thinking Out Loud’.

Imagine somebody making a joke about yours and Jensen’s sex life at a Con.

Imagine Jensen having feelings for you, only to find out a Con that you are dating Robert Downey Jr.

Imagine waking up in a completely unfamiliar place, only to find yourself married to Jensen Ackles.

Imagine dating Chris Pratt and feeling like holding him back from reaching his full potential. Only for him to prove you differently.

Imagine being an actress on Supernaturala and dating Jared and when you two have a kissing scene things always get heated.

Imagine being an actress on Supernatural and singer. During a Con Jared cannot stop teasing Jensen about his crush on you, none of them knowing you are there.

Imagine being an actress on Supernatural and your character and Dean are close which result in you and Jensen to be. You both slowly start developing feelings for each other. Only problem? He is married.

Imagine the Supernatural cast teasing you about your feelings for Jensen, only for him one day to hear it and tell you he feels the same.

Imagine West buying you flowers (’Oh Westy’ series).

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Part 6)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Brendon’s ending)

Jensen being jealous or your relationship with Brendon Urie, even though you claim it’s nothing romantic.(Jensen’s ending)

Imagine a fan congratulating Jensen and you for your relationship, years after them shipping the two of you.

Imagine Jensen talking about your breakup and not being able to hide how devastated he is. (Part 1)

Imagine Jensen talking about your breakup and not being able to hide how devastated he is. (Part 2)

Imagine Jensen being nervous during your first date.

Imagine Jared saying ‘I love you’ even if it early in your relationship and freaking out, until you tell him you feel the same.

Cooking with West. (’Oh Westy’ series)

Imagine being an actress in Supernatural and dating Jensen. You are an amazing actress but nobody knows you are a great singer as well. So when at a Con Jensen reveals it everybody insists you sing and they love it.

Imagine the look on Jensen’s face when he first sees you in a dress for the first time.

Imagine being chosen to be a model in a Victoria’s Secret model and Jensen being there on your first show.

Imagine letting it slip you have a thing for Captain America and Jensen showing up at a Con you have like this.

Imagine Jensen recording a song about you.

Imagine Jensen always bringing you up on interviews.

Imagine both you and Jensen going to tough mudder and he can’t take his eyess off you the entire time, just like you. Only for smutty times to follow once you get home.

Imagine Jensen being asked a question about you, the newest addtion to the cast, and him not being able to stop bubbling and rambling about you.

Imagine Jensen signing your picture of him and at the same time writing his number on it.

Imagine Brendon talking about Panic’s new album and how you, his girlfriend, were the inspiration for it.

Imagine being an actress and playing Elena in The Vampire Diaries and your husband, Jensen, comes on set during a photoshoot to see you. Only to get jealous over your co-star Ian.

Imagine being a member of the Supernatural cast and during a panel being asked about you and Brendon. (Part 1)

Imagine being a member of the Supernatural cast and during a panel being asked about you and Brendon. (Part 2)

Imagine Jensen messing up his lines on purpose when you two have a kissing scene.

Imagine singing the song you wrote for your boyfriend Jensen, ‘Hands to myself’, on the People’s Choice Awards.

Imagine being a part of the Teen Wolf cast and your boyfriend, Jared, surprising you at a panel.

Imagine being with Jensen in a panel and being asked about any plans on future babies. You find the chance to announce you are pregnant in front of evrybody.

Imagine collaborating with Brendon on a song for their new album.

Imagine being nervous to meet Mark at a con but he is sweet with you all the time.

Imagine your reaction when Jensen does this during the two of you’s con.

Imagine being a famous singer and Jared getting asked about the two of you during a panel and he gets all flustered about it.

Imagine making small videos with your best friend Misha but Jensen gets jealous because he thinks you are really close.

Imagine being Ian’s best friend and comforting him after a bad break up, only for him to realize he loves you too.

Imagine Jensen trying to hide how excited and happy he is you were casted in Supernatural but failing at it.

Imagine Jensen wanting to record small videos to send you to see throughout the day while he is away but being interrupted every time.

Imagine Jared, your husband, recording videos and uploading them for you to see.

Imagine going to the Civil War Premiere and meeting Robert Downey Jr who won’t stop looking at you.

Imagine taking a picture of Jensen, your husband, and Jared, your brother, when they are training.

Imagine being Jensen’s wife and you get casted in Supernatural, making the fans freak out when they unexpectedly see you in the last episode of season 11.

Imagine not being able to attend a panel because you are pregnant and Jensen, your husband, facetiming you during it.

Imagine Jensen tearing up when he talks about you during a Con.

Imagine Jensen talking about you, his wife, and you getting a role in Supernatural.

Imagine being Jared’s sister and Jensen is your husband.

Imagine being Jensen’s first love and meeting years later at the set of Supernatural, only to realize none of you got over it. However, things have changed in your lives.

Imagine Jensen live-streaming you from Cons when you cannot attend because you are pregnant with his child.

Imagine being Jensen’s wife and the newest member of the Supernatural cast. You join a Con, for the first time as an actual member, only to make Jensen blush in the end.

Imagine Jensen, your co-star and best friend, being jealous of how close you are with Jared Leto because he has feelings for you.

Imagine Jensen, your co-star and best friend, being jealous of how close you are with Jared Leto because he has feelings for you. (Part 2)

Imagine Jensen making a comment about your sex life during the San Diego Comic Con which you have joined as new member of the cast.

Imagine everyboy being more excited than ever to see the gag reel of Supernatural’s season 11 because you, Jensen’s wife, got a role and managed to star in many episodes. (Sneak Peek)

Imagine your celebrity crush, Jared Leto, getting a role in Supernatural as your character’s new love interest and Jensen being jealous because of the scenes you two have together.

Imagine being an actress in Supernatural and a singer and making a single in which Jensen, your husband, features in.

Imagine Misha skyping you while on set and Jensen pops up once he realizes he’s talking to you.

Imagine meeting Jensen while on the set of Devour and you fall in love with him. You don’t say a thing and years later when you get casted to be in Supernatural, you find out he felt the same. However, things have changed.

Imagine Jensen being your husband and your daughter saying she loves Mr. J, and getting excited whenever your best friend Jared comes to visit you. She certainly took after you though, in a way you don’t realize.

Imagine being a part of the Supergirl cast and being married to Grant Gustin.

Imagine meeting Jensen during a photoshoot and feeling instantly connected to each other. Only for that connection to keep getting stronger as you keep seeing each other… in and out of the set of Supernatural.

Imagine dressing up as Harley Quinn for Halloween and your best friend and co-star Jensen, who also has feelings for you, surprising you by dressing up as Joker.

Imagine dressing up as female Joker for Halloween and Jensen, your boyfriend, dressing up as male Harley Quinn for all your fans.

Imagine stumbling on Jensen on the red carpet of People’s Choice Awards and photos being taken, making the fans ship you after that. Although it is a first meeting you too are attracted to each other.

Imagine doing a photoshoot with Jared about an upcoming movie and him being a dork. Your interaction makes people assume only one thing.

Imagine Skyping with Jensen and Jared and Misha not leaving you two alone.

Imagine Jared surprising you by showing up at your place unexpectedly.

Imagine announcing you are in a relationship with your co-star Jared Leto during the People’s Choice Awards, not knowing Jensen is there.

Imagine Jensen kissing you on impulse on New Year’s day.

Imagine running into Jensen while rushing to get on stage and him flirting with you.

Imagine going at the Golden Globes with your fiance, Jared Leto, and running into your ex, Colin Farrell.

Imagine getting ready for the Red Carpet and Jensen being turned on by the dress you’re wearing.

Imagine being friends with Jared and Shannon and the both of them fall in love with you.

Imagine Jensen and you skyping while you are away filming for Infinity War and Robert interrupting you all the time, making him jealous.

Imagine embarassing Jared in front of everybody.

Imagine being in a relationship with Shannon and Jared having feelings for you.

Imagine being costars with Jensen Ackles and Chris Evans and great friends and they are both very jealous of each other.

Imagine while at the Comic Con with your boyfriend Jensen, you run into your ex Tom whose feelings for you have not changed one bit. (Part 1)

Imagine getting a role in a movie with your ex Tom and Jensen, your current boyfriend, getting jealous and worried. (Part 2)

Imagine being in a relationship with Jensen for years and getting married in secret and him revealing it in an interview.

Imagine working in a movie with Jensen and Robert and the two of them competing all the time for your attention.

Imagine Jensen confessing he accepted a role in a movie because he knew you, his celebrity crush, were in it.

Imagine Jensen flirting and giving you his number while you take pictures of him during an event. (Part 1)

Imagine Jensen flirting and giving you his number while you take pictures of him during an event. (Part 2)

Imagine Jared and Misha teasing Jensen because you, his favorite actress and celebrity crush, got a part in Supernatural and he acts like a fanboy.

Imagine dating with Tom in secret and getting a role in the new Thor movie as Loki’s love interest.

Crossover with Supernatural

Boss!Dean Winchester finding out about assistant!Reader’s past with Christian Gray, previous boss.

Supernatural/Hunger games crossover with Reader in it.

Your boyfriend Nico Di Angelo from Camp Half Blood coming to see you but your adopted brothers Sam and Dean didn’t know.

Imagine visiting Jurassic World with Dean and Sam and meeting Owen Grady who flirts with you instantly. Making Dean jealous, of course.

Imagine introducing your best friend, Peter Quill, to Sam and Dean. Only for him and Dean to argue all the time.

Vampire Academy AU where Reader is a Moroi and Dean wants to be her Dhampir, because he wants to protect her due to being in love with her.

You work at Jurassic world and Dean and Sam come to visit the place. Dean starts instantly flirting with you which causes Owen to be jealous.

You work at Jurassic world and Dean and Sam come to visit the place. Dean starts instantly flirting with you which causes Owen to be jealous. (Part 2)

Imagine Dean being jealous and hurt of how close you and Thomas are after he arrives at the glade.

Imagine being a shadowhunter and running into Dean who immediately starts flirting with you, making Jace jealous.

Imagine being best friends with Stiles Stilinski and often flirting with him but never doing anything. Only for one day him to be jealous of Dean, who is there undercover as a teacher, flirting with you.

Imagine being a heretic and meeting Dean that comes in Mystic Falls.

Imagine being a maid in Camelot and meeting Dean that was sent there by Gabriel, and won’t stop flirting with you. (BBC Merlin)

Imagine being the only one that can get through to Tom because he is secretly in love with you. (My bloody valentine)

Imagine being the only one Tom can’t hurt because his love for you is stronger than Harry Warden’s effect on him. (My bloody valentine)

Imagine Jake fighting his evil side for your sake and because he has feelings for you. (Devour)

Imagine Jake fighting his evil side for your sake and because he has feelings for you.

Imagine Jake running to you the moment his friends die because he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.

Imagine meeting Tom once he returns to Harmony and the both of you developing feelings for each other.

Imagine working as a waitress for the Joker and him becoming obsessed with you in a different way than with any other woman before.

Imagine Hephaestion trying to seduce you, Alexander’s sister.

Imagine Loki coming to you years after you thought he was dead.

#masterlist #imagines masterlist 2

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