this is not a drill this is reality

Snap Decision

(A chance meeting with a stranger at a bar helps you recover from a bad breakup.)

Warnings: 11000+ words of mostly sex stuff.  Bad ex boyfriends. People doing inadvisable things.  Listen up kids: in real life you should be more cautious about who you let take naked pictures of you! Lots and lots of sex.  If you’ve read my stuff before, you know the drill.  


You thought it would be fun to work in sales after you graduated from university; you would travel around the country, meeting new people, holding meetings in fancy high rise office buildings in big cities, wining and dining clients at gourmet restaurants while you closed deals and made boatloads of money.  The reality was that you were selling industrial wastewater management systems, making a moderate income, while traveling four days a week to factories and chemical refineries in some of the least glamorous locations on earth.  You didn’t mind the work itself, but the evenings alone in small town hotel rooms were dull and disheartening, so you would frequently head out to a local movie theater or neighborhood bar to distract yourself from the loneliness on the road.   

 It was pouring down rain outside and you decide to run to the closest place you could find to grab a drink, rather than risk driving around and getting lost.  That’s how you found yourself sitting alone at the bar of the Applebee’s restaurant that was adjacent to your hotel, sipping on something called a Blue Hawaiian, in a town you couldn’t even remember the name of.   

Unruly children sat with their families having dinner in the nearby booths, while innocuously bland pop songs played overhead.  You took one sip of the cloyingly sweet blue cocktail in front of you and immediately regretted your decision to come here tonight. Given the lousy week you had experienced, you would have been better off drinking cheap whiskey at a dive bar filled with unapologetic alcoholics.  Here, the family friendly atmosphere mixed with the empty promises of a fruity cocktail that was designed to trick you into thinking you were on a tropical island vacation instead of in your real life.  Your real crappy life. 

You had totally blown the sale today.  The clients had a million questions about the technical specifications of the products you were trying to sell, but you kept tripping over your words and making yourself sound like an idiot.  You blamed your poor work performance on lack of sleep.  And you blamed the lack of sleep on your boyfriend, David.  Actually, he was your ex-boyfriend now.  After more than a year together, you dumped him for cheating on you.  

He claimed he was faithful, but you were certain he was lying.  He never picked up his phone when you called him from out on the road.  He would eventually call you back, but his stories about where he was and what he was doing always sounded a little off.  The final blow came when your friend Stephanie told you she saw him going into a movie theater with another girl.  David claimed Stephanie was mistaken and that you were just paranoid and jealous for no reason.  You wanted to believe him, but deep down you were sure that Stephanie was right.  All the unresolved questions you had about what David was doing while you were working could easily be answered if he had been cheating on you.  David cried when you told him it was over, he begged you to reconsider, but you were resolute and just walked away.

That had been a week ago, and every day since then, you questioned whether or not you made the right decision.  You had no hard proof that he had been unfaithful.  Sure, Stephanie said she saw him, but she only saw from a distance.  Maybe she was mistaken.  Maybe it was just someone who looked like David.

“Is this seat taken?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Gabriel might be canonically alive, now. In the AU at least.

ALRIGHT

HA

I THINK

IN THE CURRENT SPN UNIVERSE

GABE IS JUST FINE. and this season’s finale put the final nail in the coffin for me

i was going to do a comic about it, but it could be too much to shove into a comic anyway. SO–in regards to this:

he was literally drilling into their heads “GUESS. WHAT. CAN. KILL. ME. THAT. I. TOTALLY. HAVE.”

i don’t think gabriel brought an actual “archangel blade” at all. we find out in hammer of the gods that there’s a specific blade that looks like an angel blade that can kill an archangel, and it was confirmed in s12′s finale that a regular angel blade doesn’t do much to an archangel. so whatever luci stabbed him with, wasn’t actually something that could hurt gabe

if you think gabriel can literally warp reality but couldn’t recreate an angel death, i need you to sit down and reread that

NOT ONLY THAT

but we also learned that lucifer apparently thinks, even without incredible showmanship, “if i stab it, it’s dead.” crowley, a DEMON, just a demon, was able to slip out of his body into a rat, with lucifer none the wiser. this wasn’t premeditated on crowley’s part. i firmly believe gabriel went in with a plan for the worst

so when sam and dean watched the porn gabe gave them:

i FIRMLY believe this was actually gabriel that they were watching. he was alive. right there. and he just wanted an easy out of the drama. he never had the plan to be caught, he just got heated in changing channels and realized he was going to back himself into a corner if he stayed in the game. which is ALSO why i think this stunt was pulled in meta fiction:

this is genuinely just something he can do. and metatron had, more or less, the power of god. he probably suspected the same thing i did when he read chuck’s work. so metatron literally made gabriel pitch to cas what gabe was afraid would happen to him. he didn’t want to lead armies or head rallies. he wanted to spend the rest of eternity fucking with humans

ALSO. FROM THE FINALE. dean says to luci something along the lines of, “…so you’re just going to go around smashing all of his toys?” which,

and at the beginning of the season, cas crashes into the Mystery Spot sign.

so while he is alive in other universes, sure, i think he’s still just fine in this one. if anything, he’s the one archangel that chuck actually respected, just by leaving him alone. but with the new devil baby i think something might snap

viruskit said:

I have no idea if this was already theorized but do you think the Scooby Doo episode will happen cause Gabriel came back to fuck shit up? Cause high and low key I’m hoping that happens

with rich being on set so much, it wouldn’t surprise me if this was the case! if this is what happens, they’ll think Oh They’re None The Wiser because of all of rich’s directing spots, both now and in the future. otherwise, it might just be a weird fever dream MOTW ep. FINGERS CROSSED, THO

After I answered a question yesterday about the possibility of Medic (or any other TF2 character) being a psychopath, I got to thinking about what might actually be the deal with these guys. Obviously, they’re abnormal, but I don’t like writing off weird characters as just being crazy and/or stupid.

I dug into what I understand about the characters—the core mercs as well as the Administrator and Miss Pauling—and came up with this run-down of how I think they might be diagnosed if evaluated by a modern psychiatrist.

A disclaimer! First off, please take all my conjecture with a big ol’ grain of salt. I’m not claiming to be an authority on either psychiatry or neurology, and this is just my personal interpretation of the characters. It’s fine if you don’t agree! Also, I want to be clear that I mean no disrespect to anyone who might have any of the conditions I mention. I hope my tone comes off as respectful and not exploitative.

One last thing. I feel like this should go without saying, but just in case: DON’T USE THIS LIST AS A WAY TO DIAGNOSE YOURSELF. If I mention something that strikes a chord with you, by all means research it, but talk to a professional if you seriously suspect you might have a mental issue. I am NOT a professional!

Now that all that hemming and hawing is out of the way…


Scout

Not to rely on stereotypes, but I think ADHD is likely. His impulsivity, hyperactivity, and need for stimulation are strong indicators. He also has a tendency to self-medicate with massive amounts of caffeine and sugar from all the soda he drinks. Oh, and it’s been pretty heavily suggested that Scout is dyslexic, which I believe to be the case.

Soldier

It’s pretty much directly stated in the comics that he has brain damage, resulting in delusions and cognitive impairment that border on dementia. (Think Gary Busey post-motorcycle accident.) The comics suggest he was brain damaged by lead poisoning in the water, but I’m certain he had preexisting problems from old head trauma. That helmet has an important function!

On top of that, I think Soldier’s a good candidate for Tourette Syndrome, but I don’t mean the coprolalia version you see in TV and movies, where someone involuntarily shouts obscenities. He commonly has sudden verbal outbursts (”MAGGOTS!”) and physical tics (saluting, marching, etc.) that manifest in his drill sergeant persona.

Pyro

Oh, boy. Okay. Pyro is a hell of a puzzle, and I could go on for pages, but I’ll boil it down to what I think is most likely. Of course, they exhibit pyromania, but possibly also synesthesia?

One possibility is an “eccentric” mood disorder that manifests as a loss of contact with reality, among other symptoms. That would be either Schizotypal Personality Disorder or full-blown Schizophrenia. The distorted Pyroland version of the world fits this really well, and it’s possible that it might be a chronic thing, with Pyro constantly filtering the world through their delusions.

The other likely possibility is some sort of Temporal Lobe Epilepsy, where seizures in a focal part of the brain yank Pyro out of reality without sending them into the physical convulsions you associate with general epilepsy. This would suggest that Pyro does touch base with reality but gets “transported to Pyroland,” instead of living there all the time.

Demoman

This one is easy. Demo’s a severe alcoholic, to the degree that stopping drinking cold turkey would probably kill him. In the comics, his body even rejects normal food and drink because it’s learned to get energy just from booze, and his body, in times of withdrawal, can make its own alcohol supply, which an actual real thing. It’s called Auto-Brewery Syndrome, where microbes in the gut can convert carbs into ethanol. Demo must just have the most advanced case of it in human history!

Heavy

He seems completely neurotypical to me, aside from the hints of both psychopathy and PTSD that come with being a mercenary. I do think he used to have problems from sleep apnea, but some surgery cleared that up. Now he just snores like a chainsaw. (Yes, I know sleep apnea isn’t a mental condition.)

Engineer

I suspect, but I’m not certain, that he may be in the very high-functioning part of the Autism Spectrum, with savant-like qualities. Maybe he got his 11 PhDs and abilities as a human calculator just from being driven and extremely intelligent, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he were wired differently. If it is the case, he’s learned to compensate incredibly well in his interpersonal behavior. That Texan charm is a pretty effective tool for putting people at ease, I bet.

Medic

Like I said before, I don’t like simply labeling characters as “crazy.” Yeah, he’s got the mad scientist thing going on, but I think that stems from Bipolar Disorder. Specifically, I believe Medic has type I, which is what people usually think of when they imagine bipolar behavior: extended periods of elevated mood (or hypomania) punctuated with full manic episodes, which can take on psychotic features. There may or may not be periods of depression. He doesn’t seem to swing that way, but it’s possible.

He’s DEFINITELY a self-medicator. I mean, duh. Huffing Medi-Gun fumes and a bit of drinking probably help to calm him down when he gets too high-strung. I doubt he takes pills for it, e.g. lithium or anti-convulsants, because of the high likelihood of side-effects. I could see him doing some DIY ECT, though. Getting too unstable? A few brain zaps, and he’s right as rain!

Bonus fact! Did you know that a German term to call someone insane is to say that they “have a bird”? It might come from folklore about insane people literally having bird familiars living in their heads, or it might be something like calling someone a “crazy cat lady,” where people who keep birds will talk to them too much and seem a bit off. Just thought that was interesting!

Sniper

I personally believe he probably has some Agoraphobia. Not to a debilitating degree, but he hates being stuck in what feel like insecure places. It’s actually a symptom of Avoidant Personality Disorder, which I think is pretty likely for him. It’s thought to result from feeling abandoned and alienated by other people at a young age. (*cough*orphanedbybirthparentsandraisedinAustralia*cough*) In addition to agoraphobia, signs include self-imposed social isolation, emotional distance, mistrust, and an inferiority complex. If he does have APD, he’s integrated it neatly into his occupation, where distance is a good thing.

Spy

Similar to Heavy, he seems pretty neurotypical to me. It’s possible that he had some similar issues to Scout when he was younger, but if so, he’s learned to compensate. He does exhibit the most psychopathic traits of all the mercs, but like I said before, I don’t believe any of them are actually true psychopaths.

Administrator

Classic megalomaniac! She’s got textbook Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Everything about the way she presents herself screams narcissism: grandiosity, a thirst for power, arrogance, a sense of entitlement, lack of empathy, and extremely manipulative behavior. Maybe she has good reasons for her narcissism, like being an 150-year-old supervillain, but I digress.

Miss Pauling

Poor thing. I’ve mentioned it before, but my pet theory is that the Administrator broke down her original personality and built it back up to make her a useful pawn, capable of appearing very unassuming and responsible while performing cold-blooded acts of violence guilt-free. She’s a perfect tool, with limited freewill and no room in her mind for cognitive dissonance to slip in. To her, I imagine it feels like living with with Depersonalization Disorder, where either the world around her or her own actions take on an unreal quality as a way of shielding her mind from the nasty parts of her job, but on the outside, the effect is seamless.

keltic-moon  asked:

Companions, advisors, and romances react to an inquisitor who has absolutely no aptitude for battle (no hand-eye coordination, most fights involve a lot of running away) but is basically a walking encyclopedia of knowledge both useful and not so much. (Can't remember if I sent this already or not)

…So if Mod Sarah was Inquisitor, then?

Cassandra: She quickly keys in to the fact that they’re a civilian non-combatant following their complete lack of skill in defending themselves from demons. She takes the lead and tells them to stay behind during fights, not wanting them to get injured or in the way. Following stabilizing the Breach, she tells them bluntly that they MUST learn to fight, and that either she or Varric or Solas can start teaching them, depending on what class they want.

If she is the one chosen to teach them warrior skills, she and the other warriors in the Inner Circle work them to the bone for weeks, months on end of sparring and hours of working out, but they’re capable of defending themselves, even fighting when they’re done with them. As for their knowledge, she sometimes finds it useful, asking for their thoughts on unknown things they find in the wild, sometimes aggravated if they act like a know-it-all. “Clearly, you were a scholar before all this happened, but now you must be a fighter as well.”

Blackwall: Cassandra, Solas, or Varric have already started teaching them to fight, but they’re still pretty sloppy when they meet him, to the point at which he just tells them to stand aside during the initial fight. If they’re learning to fight like a warrior, he joins Cassandra, Cullen, and Iron Bull in training them, sometimes acting as something like a drill sergeant. “You’ll thank me when you can keep yourself from getting decapitated!” he tells them. He does compliment their intelligence and knowledge, however, and finds it useful when they’re out in the field, or if he just wants to know something he’s curious about.

Iron Bull: He basically punts them out of the battlefield the minute he sees them for the first time and tells them to stay put. When they get to talking, he can figure out a lot about them– scholar, never fought a day in their life until the Breach. He agrees with the others that they have to learn to defend themselves, and if they go for a warrior class, he’s right there working them to the bone like the other warriors. He even has Krem help him teach. If they complain, he grins toothily. “You’ll thank us when you can go close a rift without getting eviscerated by a demon.” He quizzes them a few times on their knowledge, to gauge what and how much they know, and finds himself impressed. “Once you learn how to fight… you could have been a great Ben-Hassrath.” he compliments.

Varric: He’s really patient with them– not everyone can fight, or should fight, and he’s sympathetic to them. He likes to ask them for information all the time when he doesn’t feel like doing hard research when writing his book. If they choose a rogue class, he suggests they just learn how to use a crossbow– it’s relatively easy. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of training involved, but he also teaches them to identify traps and how to make traps– “Given the fact you’re a walking encyclopedia, Brainy, this should be a piece of cake for you.”

Sera: She’s baffled when Cassandra pushes them out of the way during the fight in which she first meets them, and is told they have no fighting prowess. “Ooooh.” she remarks. “Well, we’re gonna have to fix that, yeah? You can’t go around… not being able to fight when there’s demons everywhere and you’re the only one who can fix it.” If they choose a rogue class, she agrees with Varric that they should, initially, learn to use a crossbow for sake of simplicity, but states they should also learn to use a longbow. “Crossbows are good and easy for beginners, but longbows ‘re better by a lot. Come on, I’ll teach you.” Well, she and Leliana teach them, at any rate. Unlike Leliana and the warriors, she’s much less of a workhorse, and just has them come and practice when she’s shooting arrows for shits and giggles. Leliana’s the one working them, but she’s the one who teaches them tricks and fun stuff, which actually helps them learn a lot. She also remarks that they have to learn to be sneaky, which she teaches by having them accompany her during pranks. 

Cole: “Blood dripping, heart racing, I’m going to die, they’re going to die, I shouldn’t be here. You’re learning, but you still don’t know how.” If they choose to be a rogue, he smiles. “It’s okay. Sometimes people have to die. I can help. I can teach you.”

Vivienne: She’s sympathetic, but states they must learn to fight. “Knowledge is well and good, my dear, but in your new role, you must adapt. A healthy dose of fear keeps you alive.” If they’re a mage, she completely understands– not all Circle mages learn useful offensive magic. Many specialize in healing and other fields. “With how smart you are, learning offensive spells should be a non-issue. Learning how to react in a proper fight is another story…” She’s remarkably patient with them if she has to teach them.

Dorian: He’s a little envious of the idea of being allowed to learn and study in peace for so long into life without the barest concern for combat, but that time is long past gone for them, and he pities their loss. They get along as academic sparring partners, and often bounce ideas off each other. If they’re a mage, he offers to teach them practical offensive magic. “Fortunately for you, you now have a charming and talented tutor in the art of combat magic.”

Solas: He finds it a little aggravating, how they trail behind the party during Haven, and how often he finds himself throwing barriers and telling them to stay put. When he actually gets to talk to them, though, he finds himself very pleased and enthralled with the intellectual sparring partner he’s befriended. If they’re a mage, he insists on teaching them himself. “While you have spent your years thus far studying non-combat magic, it’s time for something new,” he says cheerfully, “I believe it will be both a learning experience for you and necessary for future endeavors.”

Leliana: At first, she wonders if they’re faking, but watching them for a little while makes her realize they sincerely have no idea what to do in a fight. She’s nicer to them after realizing they’re a scholar, and admires their intelligence. “Nevertheless, your life has significantly changed in a short period of time. You must learn to defend yourself.” she says. If they choose to be a rogue, she works them to the bone, but they’re perhaps the most prepared for a fight when she’s done with them as compared to other rogue teachers.

Cullen: He voices concern immediately over their incapability in a fight. “Your knowledge is good, but the reality of it is you must learn to defend yourself. I’m afraid your life as a sedentary scholar is over.” He ensures someone’s teaching them to fight in their chosen class. If they choose to be a warrior and have him teach them, like Leliana, he trains them and works them to near-collapse, forcing them to drill with the soldiers, but they come out fully prepared for a fight.

Josephine: She sympathizes with them so much. In many ways, she’s a lot like them, and offers her apologies for what they must endure. Whenever they’re done with a particularly heavy training regimen, she makes sure they at least have a comfortable room to return to with plenty of books to relax with. They become book buddies.

Inked

Originally posted by sonsofanarchy-jaxteller

Originally posted by wcaohtbltorsoaff

Request: Imagine Jax overhearing you talk to Lyla about how you won’t get his crow because you think its unfair that the guys don’t get anything so Jax surprises you.


♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔

Jax wiped his hands on the rag before using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.
The afternoon was warm to say the least, the peak of summer upon them and all day Jax had been working in the yard.
Opie was helping him while you and Lyla lazed in the air conditioned haven of your living room while you helped Lyla plan the wedding. Only the two of you seemed to be doing more gossiping than actual wedding planning.
The boys were just about to head inside when Jax raised a hand, signalling Opie to stop.
“What?”
“They’re talking about us.”
Opie rolled his eyes and tugged his shirt off over his head and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow while Jax pressed himself against the wall so he could hear more clearly.
“Jax was complaining to Ope again.”
He heard Lyla say, and although he couldn’t see you Jax knew you well enough to know you’d be rolling your eyes.
“What’d I do now?”
Lyla laughed. “You won’t get his crow?”
“Oh that, nah I told him no.”
“Why? Y/N do you know how many girls would kill to have his crow?”
The sound of your laugh rang out.
“Yeah yeah, lucky me.”
They both giggled.
“I just think it’s unfair, you know.”
“How? I have Opies.”
“Does he have a tat for you?”
“No.” Jax could hear the frown in Lylas voice and he slowly began to realise your reasoning behind your refusal to get his crow.
“I love the crows, I do. But I just think the guys should get something to show their loyalty to us too, ya know.”
Jax pushed away from the wall and turned to Opie who had found refuge in the shade.
“Done eavesdropping?”
Jax grinned and nodded.
“Do me a favour? Ring Happy, get him to come down.”
Opie nodded. “Can we go inside first, before I die of heat stroke.”
Jax grinned and they both walked inside.
You let out a wolf whistle as the boys entered the house, both shirtless and glistening with sweat.
Lyla laughed and jumped off the sofa and headed to the fridge, she pulled out two beers and offered them to the boys.
“You two wanna earn some extra cash?”
They turned to you, where you sat in the middle of the floor, a half empty bottle of wine next to you and a goofy smile on your face.
“What have you got in mind, darlin?”
“Wanna be the strippers for Lylas bachelorette party?”
Opie and Lyla laughed while Jax shook his head and walked towards you.
“That’s something I only do for you.”
You bit your lip and stood up slowly.
“Oh yeah?”
Jax nodded as he licked his lips and pulled you in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around you.
“GET A ROOM!” Opies voice bellowed and you both laughed and pulled away.



Two days had passed and you were draped across the sofa waiting for Jax to come home.
He had been busy with the club all day, which you were used to. But you weren’t used to how distant he had been with you.
You tossed your phone in your hand as you chewed your lip and every so often you stopped to check the time.
What was that saying about a watched pot never boiling?
After what felt like forever, but in reality was only an hour, the roar of Jax’s Harley echoed down the street.
You sat up and turned the tv off.
Gemma had drilled into you the unspoken ‘rules’ of being an old lady. But you weren’t like the others. You demanded respect and loyalty and in return you gave it back and you loved with every inch of you. You devoted your life to Jax and the club and you never asked questions when it came to club business. But this wasn’t club business, it was affecting your relationship and you wanted answers.
You perched on the edge of the sofa and waited for Jax to enter the house.
You heard the door shut and the thud of his sneakers hitting the floor as he kicked them off.
“Hey darlin,”
That token Jax Teller Smile was plastered all over his goddamned perfect face and you threw him a glare.
He stopped in his tracks and eyed you cautiously.
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me.” You said coldly.
When he gave you a blank expression you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.
“You’ve been avoiding me for the last two days, Jackson. What the fuck is going on?”
A ghost of a smirk crossed his face and he carefully pulled the kutte off his shoulders and draped it over a chair.
“You can’t avoid my questions by getting naked. Not this time.”
This time he did smirk and he pulled his white tshirt over his head.
A gasp left your lips and you leapt off the sofa when you saw the white bandage taped to his chest.
“Are you okay? What happened?!”
You stopped in front of him, your face full of worry and panic and you ran your fingers over his sculpted torso, careful not to touch too close to the wound.
You looked up at Jax and his earlier smirk had faded and was now replaced with a strange expression that you couldn’t quite place as an evil plan formed in his mind.
“I got shot.” He whispered.
Your eyes filled with tears and you lifted your hand to your mouth.
Oh my god!
You pulled him carefully to the sofa and pushed him to lay down.
Panic was rising within you and you began to fuss over him, shifting the cushions on the sofa to make sure he was comfortable when he grabbed hold of your wrists.
“Babe I got shot,” He said.
“I know baby, oh god, have you seen Chibs? Are you in pai-”
“With your love.”
You froze. You lifted your gaze up from the white bandage to his blue eyes and found a spark of amusement within them.
“What?” You muttered.
“I got shot with your love.”
He flashed you a winning smile, his perfect pearly whites shining almost as brightly as his eyes.
You leapt of the couch and pounded the cushion in your hands against him.
“What the fuck, Jax!”
He laughed and grabbed hold of your wrists once more, seizing your soft attack and tugging you down onto the sofa.
“Look.”
You glared at him but watched as his hands released your wrists and moved to the bandage.
He carefully lifted the edge off his chest before pulling it away with one swift movement.
Your eyes widened as you took in the fresh ink on his skin.
Mirroring his ‘Abel’ tattoo on his chest was your name, delicately tattooed with intricate detailing on each letter.
The skin around it was still red from the rawness of the ink but you didn’t mind, your eyes sparkling with tears of pride as you looked at it.
“You like it?”
You met his gaze and before you could respond the cruel mess of his trick crossed your mind. He needed to be taught a lesson.
You shook your head.
“Jax I was gonna break up with you.”
His eyes widened and his face fell and it took everything you had not to break into a grin and admit your lie.
“What?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced down at the now permanent reminder of you across his chest.
“Yeah,” You nodded, unable to keep a straight face for much longer. “I’m just kinda sick of your sculpted abs and perfect cheekbones, and don’t even get me started on your huge d-”
His lips crashed against yours and only your laughter broke the kiss.
“Your awful.” He whispered against your lips and you smiled and pecked another kiss.
“So are you. It’s why I love you.”
He pulled away, a look of pure adoration on his face.
“Will you get my crow now?”
You nodded excitedly and Jax jumped off the sofa and scooped you up into his arms.
He threw you over his shoulder and carried you down the hallway and you let out a squeal as his hand slapped against your ass cheek.
Your mind racing with all the ideas for your new tattoo.

♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔

@i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @daniehelene27 @homicidalteenagedream @hellsmurf96 @yourcroweater @jasonmccannsgirl8699 @i-am-the-luna @aworldwideapart @jaaxsoadeaanspn @trinasoftballgirl @thejulietfarciertlove @coffeebooksandfandom @kacilove26 @seninjakitey @blacnekos @thewifeofsethrollins @docsangel @eternalmikaelson @middle–fingering @shan-xoxo @supernaturalanarchy

What Jungkook said: I’m fine.


What he really wants to say: JIMIN GAVE SOMEONE ELSE WHO WAS CLEARLY NOT ME HIS SIGNATURE CUTIE SMILE THIS IS NOT A DRILL NOT A NIGHTMARE OR A FAN FICTION EITHER HE CHEATED ON ME IN REALITY WHAT I DID TO DESERVE THIS TREATMENT ICANBEYOURBOTTOMIFYOUWANTTO–

I am so incredibly proud of William Magnusson. All of his life he spent trying to please his parents, but especially his father. A father who had already drilled into him from a young age that he would never amount to anything unless he was a carbon copy of himself. The sad reality that William grew up in is that his parents could not have given a shit about him and his happiness. Yet, William continually tried to please him. William turned out to be a great guy with a huge heart even if its hard to see on the outside.

Why I’m proud of him is because today he made a decision. Today he finally chose himself. He chose Noora. He chose happiness. His family was never a family. William chose Noora because she is his family. William finally realized that nothing he will ever do will make his father love him the way he deserves to be loved. So he chose the girl who will and has. 

William is giving up everything he knows to be with Noora because she needs him and he needs her. He loves her so damn much and its beautiful. Not to mention, he’s giving up everything toxic in his life to become the best person he can be. His father literally told him that he’s being cut off and William doesn’t care. Because money does not equal happiness. William would be happy living in a cardboard box if that meant he could be with the woman he loves and make something of himself, He signed himself up for Law school. The boy who didn’t trust the legal system! Do you know how far he has come? When he had messed up and confessed, he chose to believe that it would all work out and it did. That’s true inspiration. Also, I am sure that the whole situation with Noora and NIco sparked that fire inside of him to make sure that never happens to anyone else ever again. William once wrote, “People need people.” and he’s dedicating his life to being a person that can be counted on. A  boy that has always been there for the people who needed him most. 

You don’t have to like William, but he has grown up in more ways than you can imagine. At least give him the credit where its deserved. 

Bitten pt. 4

Originally posted by dearbyun


Bitten

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 -Part 13

Description: So many secrets but this one or person, Baekhyun cannot keep.

Genre: Smut // Fluff // Slight Angst

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Mobile Masterlist | Request


“You shouldn’t be here.”

Baekhyun’s voice drills into your ears but the pain from him squeezing your shoulders snaps you back to reality.

“Baek, it’s me, your best friend.”

And like something you said triggered him, you felt Baekhyun release your shoulders. He takes a step back before turning around and immediately tries to walk away but you grab his wrist. “Baek, what’s going on?”

Keep reading

When War Runs Deep [m] (ft. Yoongi) Prologue

Originally posted by gwiyongie

→ angst, implied smut, vampire/war!au 

→ when a forbidden relationship between the general’s daughter and a vampire used as a military tool takes place during the war. 

prologue: “I know” | 01 I swear on my honor | 02 “Marry me” [M] | 03 Freedom doesn’t exist | 04 On the Other Side

basically I watched howl’s moving castle and I’m also a vampire au hoe and I was sad I didn’t get to post anything for yoongi for his bday so this is the brainchild that was birthed in less than half an hour sorry


But as you wind your arms around his neck and press your trembling lips to his, you let yourself indulge. You let yourself be selfish for once, to live without thinking about the consequences and to live without thinking about anyone else except yourself and this man you have come to love more than yourself.

Keep reading

Cake Mix (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Hey guys, just writing some things to queue up because i’ve got a week full of exams coming up! If you have any requests feel free to message me or something :)

Originally posted by whohehellisbucky

You rushed around your tiny apartment, running into haphazardly stacked piles of books and the ends of furniture. You tripped over your end table, landing on the couch with an ‘oof’. Still, you didn’t stop, scrambling to get to your cellphone. At this very moment, there were fifty boxes of cake mix in your kitchen, and you needed an ungodly amount of cakes done by tomorrow night. The only way you would be able to get this done, would be to call your best friend and life saver over to help you. 

You recently got a new phone, and hadn’t moved all of your contacts over to it yet. Luckily, you remembered your best friend Elisa’s number by heart.You dialed it at the speed of light, impatiently listening to the phone ringing, willing her to pick up. Finally, someone did. 

“I have 50 boxes of cake mix, we need to start making cakes ASAP! Deadlines, Elisa, ever heard of ‘em? Where are you?” You hollered into the phone, tripping your way back to your kitchen. Instead of a straight answer, a rather masculine-sounding chuckle. 

“ I think you got the wrong number, but count me in anyway. Sounds fun!” I guy said on the other end of the line. You sighed exasperatedly. 

“You know what, I don’t even have time to question it. I need fifty cakes by tomorrow night. I’m apartment 3c in the red brick building on the corner of 5th and Holland way. If you turn out to be a creep, I’ll suffocate you in cake batter,” You replied matter-of-factly. 

“Sounds like a great way to die. I’m on my way,”the guy said, and with that he hung up. You shook your head at yourself as you ripped open the first box of cake mix, wondering how absolutely crazy you had to be to do what you just did. 

Twenty minutes later, you had your first cake in the oven, and a knock was sounding on your door. You set down the mixing bowl in your hands and flicked the stray hair out of your face. When you opened the door, you came face-to-chest with a guy who was obviously much taller than you. 

“Hi, I’m (y/n),” you said, sticking out a batter-speckled hand for him to shake. He shook it, a smile on his face. 

“I’m Bucky.I guess i’m your co-baker for the day?” He said, his voice making butterflies erupt in your stomach. You pushed the thoughts away and opened the door wider. 

“Yeah, I guess you are. Now, I’ve got forty-nine cakes to go, and t-minues forty-seven hours until deadline,” I said, sounding eerily like a drill sergeant. 

“Yes, ma’am. Oh boy, am I excited,” Bucky replied, smirking as he followed you to your tiny, cluttered kitchen. 

Seven hours of vigorous baking later, and you and Bucky were exhausted. Both of you had made your way to the living room, collapsing on the couch. 

“So, trashy reality tv time?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow and making Bucky laugh. 

“You know, I never expected to have so much fun baking with someone I just met,” Bucky piped up, turning to look at you. 

“Yeah, you’d be surprised,” you shot back, a smile on your face. 

“So.. same time tomorrow?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

[Image Title: Fire Drills.

Left Image Description: A fireman in just his helmet, pants, and suspenders, is holding a girl in his arms. They are looking into each other’s eyes, while surrounded by flames and an empty wheelchair. Text underneath the image reads “Expectation”.

Right Image Description: A girl seated in her wheelchair is alone, leaning over to the stairs beside her, with small flames coming from the opposite side. She asks “Um… is someone coming?” The text underneath the image reads “Reality”.]

In high school we always joked with our EAs that in case of a fire, we’d want to be swooped away by a hunky fireman. Meanwhile in reality (true story), Lianna was left upstairs with her EAs during a tiny contained fire… and no one came up to get her! Safe to say we switched most of our classes downstairs after that lol.

My Story during 19/09/2017 (Mexico City Earthquake)

TL;DR below

It is September 19, 2017 and we’ve just had an evacuation drill. We do not know what to do specifically, we just heard the alarm and evacuated each classroom at Tecnológico de Monterrey Campus Ciudad de México. It is close to 1:10 pm, we are in class, we are laughing and completing some assignment that I can remember now: Paris Climate Agreement. We can feel the ground shaking lightly; we look up from our devices, we stop talking, we look at each other. We think it is just another minor tremor, it feels lighter than the one we felt on September 7. We are wrong.
We feel it intensifying, the teacher is telling me to get up and join my classmates away from the windows, away from the heavy projector that is hanging in the middle of the classroom. I clutch the very first thing I see, my laptop. My laptop with the sunflowers in the cover, the sunflowers that are supposed to bring me hope. I do not know why, but I hug it close. I pray, as I join my classmates in a circle holding each other, let this be over let this be over let this be over. It was not.
The next thing I know, the building is swaying back and forth, the windows are cracking and I hear pieces falling from the ceiling. We are on the first floor on the building, we are closer to the floor, we look at each other terrified surely thinking about the other three floors above us. Floors full of students just like us that do not have an escape route from a possible collapse. We do. If we leave the classroom we will be greeted with the Claustro, the area where there is no roof above the building. Not another second goes by before we are already running outside, we are fleeing what we felt was a sure death.
I breakdown, I start crying, I cannot see what takes me to the center of the Claustro. I am engulfed by my classmates and by strangers, I can feel tears coming down my face and I can feel my friends comforting me. The movement has not stopped. The building is moving even more violently, with so much force I feel it will come down around, trapping so many of my friends, of my classmates. I cry and I shout, I feel like death is coming up behind us.
I look up as I hear a very loud sound, and I can see so many people escaping another building, so so scared. I hear other people crying, I try to calm down and dry my tears. I am not successful. All I can think of are my friends, my brother in another building’s fourth floor. Just meters away from me, but still very far out of my vision. I cannot believe what I am seeing, I fear for my life and everybody else’s. And I still do not know the place of origin of that horrible, horrible sound.
The movement stops. We evacuate the building. I take my friends’ hands and follow without uttering a single word. Everybody’s in shock, everybody fears the building will come down any minute if we do not move fast enough. I find myself in one of the courtyards, outside of the building I was in, but without view of the other buildings on campus. What I see completely shatters my heart. There are really big holes in the walls of the entire building, there are so many pieces of my school in the floor. I am so very scared. We all are. We are in the same courtyard we were at during the drill, this time hit by the reality of an earthquake.
The rest comes and goes in my mind. We are moved from one place to another until we are moved in front of another building. People breaking down, friends I cannot locate, parents entering campus trying to find their relatives. This was the building my brother was on, and I cannot locate him. I only have my laptop still clutched at my side, I had forgotten my cellphone in that now long forgotten classroom. Soon before we are moved outside campus, I find my brother and I completely break down. We have never hugged so tightly.
We wait hours before we can leave campus. I live far away from school, and the streets were cramped, the traffic stumped. I am lucky to have found a working phone to communicate with my mother. We learn the origin of the sound, eight bridges collapsed: three buildings that were connected on the four floors they have. We know there are students still inside helping clean the rubble from this collapses. We wait five hours with our hearts completely crushed.
Those bridges that collapsed saved many lives. They could have created enough to tension to actually bring down the buildings. Including the one I was on. I am lucky. Unfortunately, my school is devastated, my life and dreams completely shattered. We now know there are 5 confirmed deaths, 5 dreams and souls gone. Other 40 people were injured or rescued, thanks to my classmates’ efforts. We are completely in the dark about our classes.
But we are not the only tragedy. Coming home I learn about so many other tragedies that add to mine. Several buildings collapsed, including a school that had children trapped underneath. I hear about so many places in need of help, getting home is a challenge itself because of the heavy traffic. I know most of my family is okay and getting home and I am lucky. I know my home is okay, that it is still standing, and I am lucky. So many people were not.
My beloved Mexico City has declared an official State of Emergency. The epicenter of this deadly earthquake in the states of Puebla and Morelos is in ruins. So many people have been left homeless, with no food or shelter for the time being. So little attention has been put on them. As I write this, we are coming close to 300 lost lives.
You have probably heard about the insane support that my beautiful people have given. As inspiring and incredible as it is, really hard months are upon us. We have weeks in which the amount of internal support will not be enough to relief the many victims of this disaster. This is were YOU come in dear reader, you can help with as little as you have, reblogging this post and/or my others. I will only be posting about this tragedy. Please help in any way you can, this help will be greatly appreciated and of much much use. Currency disparity is now working in our favor: a dollar is worth approximately 18 pesos right now. Every donation, as small as it may be, will help enormously.


TL;DR: Mexico City has declared a State of Emergency after the 19/09/2017 earthquake. We will need every piece of help that YOU can offer, even as time goes by. Posts about aid are in my blog, please PLEASE help any way you can. My school (TEC CCM) is shattered and I am very very lucky I am alive. The bridges that collapses SAVED my life and many others’.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Just wanted to tell my story to help communicate this tragedy. I love you and appreciate my current situation very much.

anonymous asked:

I thought people were talking about hating how many food-related lines he is because it was a fat people related stereotype?

I mean, my issue with that, personally, is like…

Hunk talks about food like it’s an art form and a personal passion and a lot of his interest in food is he’s more interested in making it for other people than he is in gorging himself?

The idea of “all fat people love food too much because they’re gluttonous and weak-willed and that’s why they’re fat” is legitimately awful, don’t get me wrong, but my impression has never been we’re supposed to take Hunk’s interest in food as a joke at his expense, or a joke at all?

It’s something that could be handled grossly or insensitively, but it’s presented pretty much neutral and almost every conceivable instance it’s brought up, it’s used to hammer home more that Hunk is a master chef and has very refined and complex opinions on food. 

Keep reading

Cas Hits the Mystery Spot

So the above images are from 3x11, the episode aptly entitled Mystery Spot. I know you know it, but let me set the scene: Dean dies and dies and dies. And dies. Sam is stuck in a Groundhog Day reality loop where it’s always Tuesday and the day resets every time Dean dies, leaving Sam to relive the day over and over, while Dean has no recollection of his 100+ deaths. At the end of the episode Sam finally comes face to face with their foe: the Trickster. (aka the archangel Gabriel)

This is what the Trickster tells Sam during their confrontation in the episode climax:

Gabriel: Sam. There’s a lesson here that I’ve been trying to drill into that freakish, Cro-Magnon skull of yours.
Sam: Lesson? What lesson?
Gabriel: This obsession to save Dean. The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other. Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean’s your weakness - the bad guys know it, too. It’s gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go. 
Sam: He’s my brother.
Gabriel: Yup. And like or not, this is what life’s gonna be like without him. 
Sam: Please, just… please.
Gabriel: I swear, it’s like talking to a brick wall.

Now, this has probably been talked about already so I apologise if I’m late to the party, but I just watched S3 again and these images above ^^^^ well, they just grabbed at me.

Because of Cas absolutely smashing through the Mystery Spot sign in 12x01. I couldn’t place it because I don’t have the whole of canon in my head (as of yet) like certain brilliant lovelies of this fam-fam do, but I did understand that clearly Cas didn’t smash through that sign for no reason. 

Nothing ever happens on Supernatural for no good reason, right? 

I mean, look at this –>

–> Cas literally punching a hole in something that is linked to:

  • Dean dying because of Heaven
  • Sam being helpless to stop it and
  • the codependency being the source of weakness and death

In S13 we have the possibility of:

  • Dean facing down an archangel (if the above possibly planted imagery is anything to go by, Heaven causing Dean’s death is not very likely, is it?) (I would say that no it is not)
  • Sam in a leader position where he’ll be far from fucking helpless
  • the codependency crumble-rumble-umbeling 

That’s what I see now, watching Cas streak across the sky like a falling star. Operative word being “falling” - I wonder where we might be headed with this possibly planted imagery… 

The fact that the sign is in such a 50s style and this show is all about deconstructing old fashioned values is just icing on the cake. (if you’ll pardon the pun) (because cake) (not pie) (cake)

I should clarify that Cas looking like a falling angel does not mean I see this as proof that he’ll come back human. It just makes me feel all tingly thinking about endgame. (human!Cas being the change heard around the world still makes all the sense to me though) (oh well)

But hell, I’m just enjoying the ride, as well as finding new threads to pull on here, there and everywhere. Dabb & Co. are tying them all back to the beginning, they are wrapping up this narrative and they are delivering awesomeness!! Or they are aiming to start the narrative fresh, with different dynamics (no more codependency and oh my god seasons upon seasons of textual love story heading our way) and test out how they land, so that they can go for those 666 seasons that Misha wished for. :P

2

An interview with Laura Johnston Kohl, a survivor of the Jonestown Massacre

Why did you join Peoples Temple?
The United States was going through critical growing pains in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. In the decade of the 1960s, five American heroes were shot and killed by vigilantes - John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Bobby Kennedy, Malcolm X, and Medgar Evers - and many more besides these heroes. Then, we got into the war in Vietnam. I did not want the world run by bullies, nor by vigilantes. I tried as a single, naive woman to change some things - but was pretty powerless, it turned out. When I met Jim Jones, and joined Peoples Temple, I thought Jim would protect me, and stand for issues I felt were important. He had adopted children of many races, had gathered a huge interracial congregation, and stood with other leaders of our times - Angela Davis, Cesar Chavez, Dennis Banks, many in the LGBTQ community in San Francisco, and others. It seemed like a perfect fit, even though I was an atheist. Jim’s efforts were to move people into activism.

What was it about Jim Jones that first attracted you to the Temple?
From the first time I met Jim, in Redwood Valley, I was impressed at his inclusion and affection for all of us. He would hug, smile, congratulate, assist and nurture all of us regardless of age, sex, income, education, and life experience. He would be the one to notice the people cleaning up or working hard, or setting up events. His concern seemed genuine. In his own life, he and his wife had adopted five children of many races, sometimes having to fight a system opposed to household integration. They did it. His wife seemed to be as enchanted with him as the rest of us, which I thought was remarkable. And, he had political allies who were my heroes of the time - Angela Davis, Cesar Chavez, Dennis Banks, and others. In San Francisco, we were supportive of all diverse community members. There was not only a vision of what we could be, we could look around and see that we had already arrived in a small measure. Certainly, we had more work to do, but we were an inclusive interracial community, and determined to continue the fight.

The public persona certainly differed with the reality, even at that time. But, I did not see that part.
Some of the literature on the Peoples Temple paints a picture of abusive practices. Such as catharsis sessions, physical beatings and suicide drills even before the move to Guyana. How apparent were they?

I disagree that the catharsis sessions were always abusive. Jim ran the Temple as if he were the Godfather of a huge family. He was in charge. He took people to task if our work was shoddy, or our behavior was off, if he or others noticed issues. To this day, I have “family meetings” with my husband and foster son to resolve issues and organize our lives. Sometimes that happened in the Peoples Temple Family Meetings. The abuse part was to have Jim making a decision, stating a problem, and then not allowing the person to respond, or to refuse to listen to problems that needed resolution within the church. Jim could never be questioned. Never. That is abuse. A healthy catharsis is not abuse. Catharsis was the wrong word for much of what went on in our Family Meetings. We had dictatorship laying down rules, and not allowing discussion or defense. Because Jim took the role of everyone’s “father” he managed the discipline of the members. The beatings were outrageous, and even created life-long disabilities. The suicide drills were an early clue of Jim’s power-tripping. I wrote them off as just one more of his antics to get us more unified and to work harder. I think that the most relevant thing about the suicide drills was that NO ONE COULD EVER HAVE IMAGINED that Jim, the person who got relatives out of prison, who fought in courts for children and adults, who got people legal and medical help, who adopted his own children and seemed to love all children, and who spoke up for human and civil rights would or could EVER take our lives. Every family had had some relative or close friend helped. Everyone had a story.

Former members have described Jonestown as one of the best things that happened to them. Conversely, it has also been likened to a concentration camp. What was your experience of Jonestown? Did people tell you they wanted to leave?
I was one of the members who loved Jonestown. I always felt that there were many positives of our community, and that the problems would be sorted out and resolved once we did not have to work so hard building everything. If you look at a photo of Jonestown - built in just over 3 years, you will see how amazing it became in that short time. We were humping to make it less primitive and more functional and livable. I did not see things that would not be remedied as soon as our full-out building was done. For people who were not happy in Jonestown, it was a prison. You could not leave. Jim asked people to work hard and that after two years, anyone would be free to go. Many were rightly skeptical. Jim did not ever want anyone to leave. He took it as a personal betrayal and defeat. Even when about 20 people wanted to go with Congressman Ryan, he was overwhelmed. Twenty people out of 1,000. His paranoia and Narcissistic Personality Disorder (even besides his drug addiction) did not allow him to see that in perspective. For those of us in Jonestown, since people did not speak about how they wanted to leave (much as in Hitler’s Germany, where parents were reported by their children or neighbors), I had no idea that people seriously wanted out. I was a zealot so no one would have told me.

As a former member, how do you view the tragic ending of the Peoples Temple?
Jim Jones talked about revolutionary suicide in the death tape, however some scholars view it as mass murder?
The term “Revolutionary Suicide” was coined by Huey Newton, for his book published in the early 1970s. It was the rhetoric of the times, and was used at a time when the disenfranchised poor and people of color were reacting to the abuses of their neighborhoods. Many were saying that if they were to be killed by police or others anyway, they chose to decide the when and where. (That is a rough paraphrase) The deaths in Jonestown were murders. No good came out of the deaths, except that Jim got all the fame and infamy about the community just as he wanted. He never shared leadership.

How was Jim Jones’ behavior?
At the beginning, when I was part of the smaller Redwood Valley Peoples Temple, Jim’s behavior was inclusive, and consistent with the ideas he shared. He did work to get rid of racism within the Temple. Once he moved to San Francisco with many of his members from Redwood Valley, and many new members, I only saw him in public. He was very polished in public. I felt like I knew the “real” Jim Jones and so did not watch him as critically as I should have.

How did you feel inside the community?
The people I met in Peoples Temple were the best, most dedicated and diverse people I have met in my life. Many people made huge sacrifices because we all felt that we could create a safe community for our friends and family, and be a role-model community for the larger world. We worked tirelessly, and felt that each day, we accomplished a lot. I loved the Peoples Temple community, from the communes I lived in and the entire family - which is what it felt like to me.

Was sex an important element?
Jim was married, had a long-time mistress, and continued to have multiple partners over the years. He would justify having sex by telling us why these people “needed” him to show his care or his appreciation for their beauty - really, blaming the victim. And then, he used sex as a further control over that person. I would say that others in the Church were not invited to have multiple partners, and instead earned Jim’s trust be being celibate. He often referred to people as most trustworthy because they were single. He preferred everyone to have a personal connection with him, no room for others or rather, no distraction from others.

When and why did you leave the community?
I did not leave the community. I happened to be working in Georgetown from late October through the deaths in Jonestown on November 18, 1978.

How did Jones maintain such a strong control over the members?
First, Jim Jones was extremely smart. He just outsmarted us by knowing what to say to pull us in. He would speak and be sure he covered exactly what each person or group wanted to hear. I was always political, along with many other members. He would be sure to include politics and a political message in each sermon. Many members were religious, and he would be sure to include that as well. He was well-versed in the bible, although I have a strong opinion that it was useful for him, rather than it being his core belief. Religion was a magnet he could use to draw people in. Then, he would teach and model how activism was essential in interacting with the world.
Second, Jim actually helped nearly every family. He could write letters to get people out of jail or on probation, or get leniency. He helped get people off of drugs, into housing, into communes with shared resources so everyone had a safe place to stay, with enough food. He provided free legal help and got medical attention to members when they had been denied help. Really, every family was impacted by the services provided in Peoples Temple. People could not fathom that he would do them harm when he had so tenderly cared for them or their loves ones over the years. He was powerful because of his deeds. He took care of people.
As a consequence, people did not admit to seeing his flaws. His drug addiction and personality disorder, which worsened in Jonestown, were hidden by his closest nurses/mistresses/secretaries. His reputation was protected vigilantly. Most of us had no clue about how he was disintegrating right in front of us. Even people who did see some problems had no idea that he was so mentally ill that he would kill 917 people and himself.
There had been no precedent in US history of a leader killing nearly 1,000 people. No one in Peoples Temple - or very few, because some did see it on the horizon and left - could have imagined that end. We thought any issues in the community could be fixed as we settled into Jonestown and didn’t have to work so hard.


How did you feel the People’s Temple was taking a stand for social justice?
From the first day, I realized that Jim Jones had an adopted family of all races - Black, Native American, Asian, and his “home grown” son. He and his wife were the first white couple in the State of Indiana to adopt a Black child - Jim Jones Jr. His congregation was the same - mixed race, mixed socio-economic levels, mixed education. This was in the 1960s and 1970s, in a country that JUST passed the Civil Rights Act. Even today, that is not the norm.

From there, we moved on to supporting emerging groups - we spoke up for the LGBTQ community in San Francisco, the American Indian Movement, the Farmworkers, really, all of them. They were us and we were them. We wrote letters to Judges to get family members and community members released from prison, and helped be the voice for the voiceless. That was our mission and we did it tirelessly.

In the late 1960s, I think that was Jim at his “purest.” He always had a borderline personality disorder - and power issues - he wanted all the power, over all of us. But, it really started eroding what he was doing in the early 1970s when he was so successful with the powerful in San Francisco and in California.

What did you see was your role in fighting for social justice?
In high school, I had been active in integrating my neighborhood in Maryland, and in the fight for equality and putting an end to segregation. In college in Connecticut, I worked hard on civil and human rights, and demonstrated to end the war in Vietnam, among other things.

After college, and a brief marriage, I went to Woodstock - but wasn’t interested in being immersed in that culture. Then I lived and worked with the Black Panthers for about 6 months. That did not work for me as a naive, and optimistic young girl.

When I moved to California and met Jim Jones and Peoples Temple - I thought of Jim as a protector who would enable me to continue on with my political activism. That was my life-blood.

How do you think the social issues of the time affected the rise of the People’s Temple?
I know that the society going through such upheaval (with the murders of so many leaders in the 1960s (MLK, the Kennedys, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers), with the war in Vietnam being so unpopular, and with Civil Rights and civil abuses so much in all of our minds made Jim’s rise to a political position meteoric. He was at the right place (SF) and at the right time to become a spokesperson for many of the disenfranchised.

What do you see as the impact of Jonestown on society?
Jonestown had the POTENTIAL to show the world that racism and abuse did not have a role in our society and that we should get rid of both in our communities. Those of us who went to Jonestown thought that we could prove to the world that our kind of mixed and fluid society worked. We thought we could keep our kids safe from drugs, give them a community that valued them, and … That is what we thought. What we didn’t know was that jim had so deteriorated in mental health, and had become so drug-addicted, that he stood in the way of that happening.

Could you describe what the transition into life after the People’s Temple was for you?
When I came back from Guyana, I was totally shell-shocked. I moved back into the San Francisco Temple building on Geary and Fillmore for four months until the Conservator assigned to sell off the assets of Peoples Temple kicked us out. Then, I lived in several different communes of Peoples Temple survivors for the next ten months. The government put a lien on my passport, saying I had to reimburse the $500 they spent to bring me back from Guyana, since I was one of those who received a subpoena to appear before the Grand Jury. I went to work, got a job, and went to school at night. I was putting one foot forward at a time - but not yet determined that I wanted to keep going. It was very difficult and we survivors were not much help to each other or to ourselves.

After a year of trying to make my decision about survival, I moved into a community I had been spending time with - Synanon. Synanon was a residential drug treatment program when it started in the 1950s, but it had become a fully-functioning diverse community with both former drug addicts and “squares” - those who did not become drug addicts. Over the years, there were thousands of residents who passed through. When I moved in in 1980, there were roughly 50% squares and 50% former drug addicts. Synanon took good care of me. However, there are some events mostly from before I moved in that were illegal and problematic. Some of my fellow survivors from Peoples Temple were anxious for me, moving into another “cult.” Synanon closed in 1990, when the IRS rescinded tax status because of profits we were making in selling advertising products.

While in Synanon, I married my current husband, Ron, and my son was born.

In 1990, we moved out. I went back to school and got my California Clear Teaching Credential. I started teaching in 1994. I also became a Quaker in 1994.

After 20 years of keeping my head in the sand, I went to the 20th Anniversary Gathering at Evergreen Cemetery in Oakland, where most of those murdered in Guyana were buried. That was when my healing began - once I realized I would and could never forget. My life in Peoples Temple is part of who I am today. Once I admitted to myself that I am forever changed - somehow, I could work with that and fully move on.

In the early 2000s, I started public speaking. I wrote and published my book JONESTOWN SURVIVOR: An Insider’s Look in 2010. I continue speaking about Peoples Temple and my experiences.

How would you like history to remember the people of Jonestown?
The people of Peoples Temple were wonderfully committed and optimistic people who wanted a better world and who were willing to make great sacrifices to bring it about. We were so determined, we failed to watch Jim enough, especially at the end. In Jonestown, his mental and physical health deteriorated, and he and his secretaries/mistresses/nurses were able to hide the disintegration.

In your opinion, what do you think is the historical significance of Jonestown and the People’s Temple?
There is an enormous historical significance of Jonestown and Peoples Temple. Here are just a FEW:

Leaders can never be given absolute loyalty.

Insanity can be very well hidden.

There is no time and place where critical thinking and observation can be turned off.

There are certain behaviors of cult-leaders that are recognizable:

Wanting to take members away from family and loved ones who are not a part of the group

Moving the group to a remote location

Creating a we/they belief system

Refusing any questioning or corrections of the leaders

Keeping members exhausted and poor

Never assigning anyone as a replacement

Really, it is a very long list.

Are there any misconceptions about the People’s Temple that you would like to correct?
There are many misconceptions. The primary one that I always want to address is the nature of the membership. We were bright, hardworking, and optimistic people. It was unimaginable to us that Jim Jones, who had gotten our family members out of jail, into the hospital, into shared housing where there was enough food, and kids into safer environments - and so much more. It was just not possible that the same person would become so mentally imbalanced that he would murder or assist in murdering 918 people.

Thiam Week: Soulmate

Liam hated the idea of having a soulmate. It was all a bunch of bullshit. He glanced down at the now darkening tattoo on the inside of his wrist that had appeared on his thirteenth birthday. The three telltale claw marks that looked like ripped skin. He had been so confused when he first noticed them, he couldn’t understand how he had gotten cut but wasn’t bleeding. When his mom noticed, she cried tears of joy. Her little boy was growing up and the universe had finally picked someone just for him! She explained that the tattoo would only ever be three colors: gray, black, or red. Gray when the universe picked your soulmate but you hadn’t met them yet. It changed to black when you met or came into contact with them. And the tattoo would burn and turn red when your soulmate died. She had gotten him all excited for what it would mean for the rest of his life. Unconditional love and support and someone to be with all the time. As a kid, it sounded pretty great.

And then it all changed.  His fourteenth birthday marked the start of a new era for him, he started high school and it was like something in him snapped. He was angry. Angry when he woke up, angry if his pencil broke, just… angry. His stepdad suggested that he try a sport, that maybe it would give him an outlet for his anger. In reality Liam thinks it made it worse. Lacrosse came with so much pressure to perform and be perfect. Liam will never forget the day he had his first outburst. He beat the shit out of someone on his team because they kept messing up the drill. He had a few more outbursts and ended up having to change schools.

Then it all changed again. He had tried to control his anger, even agreed to take medication. Everything was going better… until he got mixed up in some trouble and Scott McCall had bit him. Being a werewolf had its pros and cons. Being a werewolf with an IED was an all-out task. He was constantly fighting a battle with his inner animal. The wolf loved his strength and aggression and Liam could barely control it. What kind of soulmate was going to love him? He was a beast and not a nice one. He could hurt them, and now he would have to take care of someone else. How could he take care of someone else if he could barely take care of himself? He looked down at his wrist again and scowled at it as it was almost fully black now. He had met his soulmate. He closed his eyes and let the finality of it all sink in.

All of his friends had found their soulmates. Mason had found Corey and they sported matching chameleons. Nolan and Gabe had guns, something all his friends laughed about regularly. Hayden’s tree had shown up randomly one day and left Beacon Hills the next day with her soulmate as soon as it turned black. Stiles and Lydia each had half of the infinity symbol that would make up the whole thing if their wrists were placed next to each other. And Scott, well Scott had two. It was extremely rare and Deaton had only ever heard of one other who had it. Turns out true alphas get a second chance if their first anchor dies. Scott had an arrow that had turned red on his left wrist and a black coyote howling at moon on his right, matching the one that appeared on Malia’s wrist a few days ago. 

Liam had no idea who it was. There had been so many new people in town due to the hunter’s gearing up for war. Yet another thing adding to his inner wolf’s battle to be let free. He shook his head taking deep breaths trying to get a grip on himself. The more he thought of his soulmate the more anxiety he would have and he couldn’t lose it right now. He promised Scott he would stay in control.

“Whenever you’re done pitying yourself or whatever it is that you’re doing I could use some help.” Theo stated dryly, breaking through his thoughts. He turned his head to glare at the obnoxious chimera as he dragged another sleeping bag over. They were staging a living situation at the zoo as a distraction for Scott, Lydia, and Malia to break in to the hunter’s warehouse.

“If you could just not talk that would be great.” He shot back. But he moved to help Theo with the last few sleeping bags and pillows.

“That would have been possible if the stench of your anger and anxiety hadn’t suffocated me.” Theo replied with a twinkle in his eye telling Liam he was mocking him.

“Are you trying to get me angry?” Liam practically growled as he threw the last sleeping bag down and stood to face Theo.

 “Someone should, we’re about to fight a war. If all of you think you’re going to win by staying calm you’re mistaken.” Leave it to Theo to get him all riled up.

He didn’t know why, but Theo had challenged him the most recently. Every time he was with the chimera, his control was dangerously close to slipping. Until he’d catch Theo’s scent or he would give him a smirk and then suddenly his anger would disappear. It freaked Liam out honestly. The first time it happened Liam had to leave his friends and clear his head, not even his meds could take away the anger like that. He had almost thought that Theo was his anchor, his soulmate, but that thought died quickly when he noticed that Theo didn’t have a tattoo of any color on either wrist. Theo coughed, “You’re doing it again.”

“You’re lucky that sword is gone or I swear- “ Liam was cut off as Theo got in his face.

“What, you’d send me back? Poor you, poor Liam.  You’re stuck with me now.” Theo put his hand down hard on Liam’s shoulder and squeezed. “Now be quiet, or they’ll hear you.” Liam growled in return his eyes flashing yellow a few times. He grabbed Theo’s hand and threw it away from him as he marched away to get some fresh air.

“You promised Scott, you promised Scott” he repeated quietly but the farther away he walked the angrier he got. “The sun, the moon, the truth.” He rushed out hoping it would work like it did when he was actually with Scott. “The sun, the moon, the truth!” He shouted feeling the change coming, claws slowly sliding out. He heard and smelled Theo approach from behind but even Theo’s scent couldn’t bring him back this time… he was too far gone.

“Liam… don’t.” Theo said with warning. Liam’s yellow eyes snapped up to look at him. He started to move, circling Theo.

“This is what you wanted Theo,” he continued circling letting his fangs drop down and the rest of his claws slide out, “you wanted me angry. You wanted me like this.” He smiled darkly as he scented Theo’s adrenaline.

“Liam don’t make me hurt you.” Theo said confidently. “I’d prefer not to, but I will.” Liam charged him or maybe his wolf charged him. Liam couldn’t decide who was who anymore, his animal was out.

He woke up in his bed with a killer headache and groaned. The bed dipped and Theo’s scent wafted up through his nose. Groaning again he opened his eyes to find Theo staring at him.

“What happened.” He asked groggily but thanks to his quick healing and Theo’s scent the headache was already beginning to fade 

“You wolfed out and tried to attack me so I had to put you down.” Theo smirked at his choice of words before grabbing Liam’s face and turning it side to side. “Looks like you’ve healed, the bleeding stopped.”

“How many times?” Liam said through gritted teeth as he tried to jerk his head out of Theo’s grasp. The way Theo smiled at him told him he didn’t want to know. He went to get up but Theo pushed him back down to the bed and moved towards the bathroom. 

“Five,” he heard Theo chuckle but his scent of worry was confusing him. He walked back with a wet washcloth and threw it Liam. “You might want to wipe the blood from your face and chest, your mom is on her way up.” Liam heard her footsteps coming up the stairs and looked down to see that he A. didn’t have a shirt on and B. was in fact covered with dried blood. Quickly wiping himself off he glanced over at Theo and noticed he was wearing one of his sweatshirts.

“Why don’t I have a shirt on and why are you wearing one of my hoodies?” Liam said in a rushed whisper as his mom approached his door. Theo just shook his head and put a finger to his lips in the universal sign of be quiet and then put his hands together and laid his head on them telling Liam to pretend to sleep. He had just flopped on his side when his door opened, and his mom came in.

She walked over to him and pushed his hair back from his face in a sweet soothing motion. Liam tried to keep his breathing as even as possible so she would leave without seeing Theo. His mom went to go tuck his blanket over him some more when she suddenly screamed. Shit she saw Theo, he bolted upright ready to come up with some bullshit excuse for why there was someone in his room when she grabbed his wrist and turned his side lamp on.

“You found them! You found your soulmate!” She exclaimed excitingly her heart beating a mile a minute but it was the second fastest next to Theo’s. Weird. “Honey I’m so happy for you. Tell me all about them!”

Liam went to open his mouth when he saw bright yellow eyes suddenly appear in the corner of his room. He shook his head in that direction telling Theo to stay put. His mom thought it was for her and shoved his wrist in his face.

“Liam Dunbar don’t you dare lie to me the proof is the BLACK ink on your arm.” He sighed closing his eyes quickly.

“I don’t know who it is mom. It just happened today.” He looked up into her eyes and saw pure excitement. “Why are you up so late?” He questioned, his mom was always in bed by 10pm. Unless he had been out for longer than Theo let on.

She looked at him strangely for a second and responded “Honey, it’s 6am. I’m leaving for work but I wanted to say bye because your stepfather and I are leaving for that medical conference this weekend.” Liam nodded vaguely remembering her telling him about this earlier in the week. “I left money on the counter for food. We’ll be back late Sunday night.” With that she kissed his fore head and got up to leave. Before she closed his door she poked her head back in and said, “I can’t wait to hear all about your soulmate when we get back! I’m sure you’ll have met him or her by then!”

Liam out a sigh of relief when he heard her go down the stairs and out the front door to her car. Theo stepped out of the corner looking like he just ate something sour and was scratching at his wrist. “What’s your problem?” He spat out. “You almost gave yourself away AND gave me being a werewolf away.” 

“Nothing. I gotta go.” Theo said with almost zero emotion still picking at something on his wrist.

“You never answered why you were wearing my sweatshirt.” Liam caught him right as Theo reached for the door knob. Theo froze. Taking two deep breaths before he spun around quickly taking the sweatshirt off.

“You ruined my last shirt when you let the wolf control you. Fuck! Here take it,” Liam was suddenly hit in the face with the sweatshirt as it flew across the room. Before he could even say anything Theo was out the door and down the stairs. What in the hell got in to him?

That same night Scott called a pack meeting. They were all sitting around discussing strategies because they knew the war would be happening within the next 48 hours thanks to the tip from Nolan and Gabe, the pack’s double agents. The tension was so thick you could feel it everywhere in town and it had finally reached a tipping point. Everyone had a solemn expression on their face even Peter and Derek who had showed up at the last minute. The only person who didn’t say anything the whole meeting was Theo. He leaned against the wall in the back staring blankly at another wall. Something was wrong.

Eventually Scott had decided everyone should get some sleep and Liam watched as he leaned over to whisper to Malia and gave her a quick peck. As everyone stood Liam went to go ask Theo what his deal was but Scott had beat him to the sulking chimera. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Scott asked earning just a simple nod from Theo as he followed him out of the house. Corey and Mason came over and started talking to him about his now black tattoo trying to lighten the mood a little.

“So who do you think it is?” Mason asked excitedly as Corey grabbed his hand and pulled it up for a kiss.

Liam shrugged. “I honestly have no clue. I haven’t spent time with or even really run into anyone new.” Corey and Mason shared a glance and then both looked back to him.

“Do you think…” Mason said just as Corey started with “Have you thought…” they both paused and laughed making Liam give a small smile at how connected they were. “What we are trying to say is do you think it could be Theo?” Corey finally spit out. A weird feeling hit Liam and he didn’t know what it was.

“No, he doesn’t have a tattoo anywhere.” He murmured with a shake of his head. Corey let out a snort as Mason got a devious look in his eyes.

 “Anywhere? Just how much exactly of Theo’s body have you seen?” Mason questioned. Liam blushed and stuttered.

“Seriously? Not much. We don’t even spend that much time together.” He added with a hint of something like sadness in his voice. What the fuck was happening to him. Ever since he woke up from Theo knocking him out he had been doing and saying weird things. Like for example… the sweatshirt that Theo had been wearing earlier… was now currently on him because he felt he couldn’t leave the house without his scent after Theo had stormed out upset about something.

Mason raised an eyebrow at him and Liam made a hand gesture for him to say whatever it was that he was holding back. “Dude… you and Theo have been together every day since the Ghost Riders.” Liam thought back on it. Okay maybe Mason had a point but that’s was because he felt the need to make sure that Theo didn’t fuck his pack over again. He was just checking on him… right?

He was about to say something when Scott walked back in the house without Theo drawing his attention. “I have to go.” He said quickly to his best friends. He asked Scott where Theo was playing it off like he wanted a ride home and when Scott told him Theo went to scout the woods he freaked. He tried to follow Theo’s scent but lost it deep in the think forrest. His phone vibrated so he pulled it out to look at the text, surprised when he read Theo’s name.

Go home. His head snapped up and he looked everywhere around him trying to sniff the air to catch a scent. His fingers moving fast against the keyboard Where are you?!

His phone vibrated almost instantly. LIAM GO THE FUCK HOME. THERE’S HUNTERS OUT HERE. He read the texts and looked up from his phone again trying to listen for a heartbeat and found a faint one but it wasn’t Theo’s. GO NOW. Popped up on his phone and he started moving in the direction he came from but not quick enough. He heard a gunshot and was on his knees before he knew it, the pain hitting him like a truck making him roar. He heard a deeper roar come from behind him and then the world went black.

Ow fuck fuck fuck ow it’s burning oh my god. Liam’s eyes fluttered open as he was placed on a cold metal table in the animal clinic. He watched as a frantic Theo ran back and forth from the cabinets looking for anything to help stop the bleeding. He groaned and Theo shot back to him.

“You’re so fucking stupid. God damn it Liam.” He snarled as he pushed a towel down on the 3 gaping holes in his chest. Liam started gasping for air as pain sliced through him and he cried out with half a human yell half roar. Deaton came around the corner with a bunch of tools that had his wolf biting back a snarl.

“The bullets are burrowing.” Deaton said calmly. “We need to get them out of him now.” Deaton said glancing at Theo. “I can’t because they’re moving. I need you to dig them out.” Theo’s face dropped.

“Wh..what?” Liam managed to gasp out. “He..he c-can’t. Digthemout.” Still squirming and stuttering from the pain.

“Theo, now. Any further and the wolfs bane will hit his organs.” Liam watched as Theo’s claws popped out. Theo shakily dug one nail in the bullet hole and dragged his nail down cutting Liam’s chest open making him scream out in pain. As in Theo screamed out in pain. He pulled his hand back and ripped his shirt open exposing his wrist showing a black ink claw mark ripping its way through his skin. “Theo you have to keep going!” Deaton yelled.

Theo went to the second hole digging his nail in again and started to rip down to the bullet finding it and pulling it out. Both he and Liam gasped and sputtered at the pain. One more claw mark started to etch its way up Theo’s wrist. Liam passed out, the pain finally becoming too much for him. Theo gritted his teeth through the burning sensation currently splitting his arm open and dug into Liam’s last bullet wound.

Deaton worked fast patching up the holes and wiping the blood mixed with wolfs bane from Liam’s skin. Theo sank to the floor and stared at his wrist in disbelief. The dread doctors told him he wouldn’t be able to find a soulmate because he traded his soul to them. He was product of the doctors and therefore no longer privy to the benefits of the universe.

He sat there staring blankly even as Scott and the rest of the pack rushed in to check on Liam. He sat there when Corey and Mason came to talk to him. He sat there while Scott thanked him for saving Liam. He sat there when Lydia squatted down next to him pulled his, now tattooed, wrist away from his body and looked at it. She looked up at him and then glanced towards Liam and then smiled back at him sweetly, patted him on the shoulder and said “You’ll be good for him.”

Liam let the scents filter through him as he slowly started to wake up. Theo, worry, blood, Theo, pack, Theo. Theo, he let his scent take over and it encouraged him to open his eyes slowly. When he finally managed to get them open, everything came rushing back to him.

He was shot, Theo cutting him open, and the tattoo. HOLY SHIT the tattoo! He sat up so fast that he groaned wincing at the pain thundering in his chest. He found Theo sitting on the floor next to the metal table he was on with his head in his hands. Liam swung his legs over the edge and jumped down hissing at the pain. The sound must have caught Theo’s attention because he slowly picked his head up and then rushed to his feet to put Liam back on the table.

“Are you trying to cause yourself more pain?” Theo said harshly. “God why don’t you ever just do what you’re supposed to do,” and then more quietly “, what you’re told to do.” Liam grabbed his arm and tried to pull it towards him, but Theo fought it. Liam pulled harder and Theo finally let him have it exposing his wrist.

Liam gasped and traced the three claw marks that resembled his own making Theo shudder. He dropped Theo’s arm and choked out a “How” as he looked up and met Theo’s eyes. Theo shook his head, stepped back still staring into Liam’s eyes, and then began to explain what the dread doctors told him. He listened as Theo explain the pain he went through while cutting Liam open. And then they sat in silence. Liam was unsure how much time had passed before Deaton came in but he jumped as he wasn’t ready for it. 

“You know that the soulmate mark has to mean something to each person. For Liam it was that he was going to be and be with a supernatural being. For Theo I’m guessing his didn’t show up until he was ready to care for someone more than himself.” Deaton said looking between the two. “Theo you couldn’t stand to hurt him, which is what sparked your soulmate mark to present itself. It symbolized the pain you caused Liam and it manifested making your soulmate mark appear in the same way.”

 Liam and Theo looked at each other and then back to Deaton. “Ooookay, well now that we’ve got that cleared up… I’m going to take Liam home.” Theo said standing up and helping Liam off the table. They went to walk out the front door and were greeted by the whole pack. Liam grabbed Theo’s hand and squeezed, both silently reassuring him and also telling him he wasn’t ready for all this because he was still in pain. Everyone stared at their intertwined hands and waited for Scott to speak. When he finally did both Liam and Theo sighed in relief, “We just wanted to check to make sure you were okay Liam. We also wanted to say congrats-“ Stiles grumbled something and Lydia smacked him upside the head, “congrats on finding your soulmate.” Scott finished.

Corey and Mason hugged him ignoring his silent inhale of pain. Theo pulled him back to his side and started walking towards his truck. When they got to Liam’s house he noticed how tired Theo looked. So he walked upstairs knowing that Theo would follow and sat down on his bed. Theo followed suit and sat down and then gave in and laid down finally showing his exhaustion.

He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t want a soulmate. He didn’t want someone to take care of, someone to have to protect from himself. “Could you hurry up and get done with your over analyzing everything, I could really use some sleep.” Theo opened his eyes to smirk at Liam and then snuggled deeper in to the bed taking a deep breath in.

“Did you just smell my bed?” Liam asked in disbelief at lighthearted Theo. He had never seen this side to him before and he didn’t know how to react. Theo was his soulmate now though so maybe -

“You’re doing it again.” He sighed. “And yes, you smell good.” Liam laid down next to him and blurted out his thoughts.

“I didn’t want a soulmate.” He felt Theo freeze, sharply inhale, and then realized how it sounded. “No, no, no I didn’t mean it like I don’t want you. I do want you! Oh my god.” He covered his face with his hands. “I just meant that I didn’t want anyone to be stuck with a defective/broken mate.” He whispered out.

He felt the bed shake, and then it shook some more when Theo let out an uncontrollable laughter. “God making you squirm is so fun. I know you want me; I can smell it.” He said as he winked. “But you’re not broken. Ah ah and before you try to fight me on this just remember that you’re a future alpha. You got this.” Theo wiped his fingers across Liam’s lips.  Liam leaned up and brushed his lips tentatively against Theo’s. The spark that ran through them both was enough to have them pulling away from the kiss breathing heavily. Both opened their eyes to find their animals staring back.

“But don’t for one second let yourself think that you have power over me.” Theo stated while pulling Liam’s hair at the back of his neck. “I’m still older and stronger than you baby wolf.” And then he kissed him hard. Liam kissed him back just as hurried, like the world was ending and this was the last time they would be together. Because who knows, with the hunter’s around, it just might be. Except he would die trying to keep his soulmate from leaving him. He just got him and he wasn’t planning on losing him.

Theo nipped his lip, “Stop thinking Liam.” Theo’s scent flooded over him and made his wolf snarl. Theo rolled on top of him and smirked. “There he is, there’s the baby wolf I love.”

Where’s my brother? - Peter parker x little sister! reader (3/3)

A/N: This is third and final instalment to the peter parker x sister! Reader series – I hope you like this - please give me some feedback.

Word count: 1510 // Genre: Fluff, Angst // Warnings: Mentions of people being hurt. // Tags: @1022bridgetp; @adventureofblue; @ginevraweasley (Here you go!)

Part (1/3) - Part (2/3) - Masterlist (Normal/Mobile)

(Side note : I included this gif because IT IS SO FREAKING CUTE!)

Originally posted by mc-universe

(Y/n) – your name; (y/n/n) – your nickname; (h/c) – hair colour; (e/c) eye colour; (s/c) – skin colour

It was a dark day in the Avengers facility – there was little chatter or noise in the air, save for the sound of troops boots running drills and the general hum of the building. The air, both surrounding and inside the facility, hung heavy over everyone. Nobody wanted to tell (Y/n) about what had happened – she didn’t have to know while there was still some marginal hope – everyone was afraid of how she may take the news. Her wrought-iron bond with Peter may cause some volatile reactions. Despite this, someone had to tell her soon.

Though (y/n) was familiar with the notion of missions, having grown up in the Avengers facility for the majority of her young life, she’d never been faced with the reality of a mission going horribly wrong. Sure – missions had taken a turn for the worse in the past but in the worst case scenario, the team had come home injured but returned home nonetheless.

Keep reading

#90 “You can tell me anything.” for the anon

The classroom feels too small. It’s as if the walls are crushing Dean, taking away all the space and ability to breathe. There are too many other students, too. English is his favorite class, but at the same time, he’s always nervous to go. It all has to do with Mr. Novak. Dean isn’t nervous because he’s strict or mean, quite the reverse. 
Castiel always has time for everyone, makes you want to learn and listen and understand, he talks about things that stay in your mind for days, asks your ideas and opinions. Dean likes him even more because he greets him in the hall, helps him with all the patience in the world and always writes compliments down throughout Dean’s essays. 

No, it’s not that Mr. Novak is mean. Dean sometimes wishes he would be so he could hate him and ignore the strong jawline, dark messy hair, and deep blue eyes. But he can’t. Especially now Castiel has slipped off his jacket and is standing with his back turned to write on the board, wearing only his black jeans and tugged in white shirt. Dean stares. It’s too distracting to hear anything Castiel is saying, his deep gravelly voice a comfortable murmur in the back of Dean’s mind. He shifts. 

Castiel must have known how good he’d look putting it on this morning, Dean doesn’t believe he had no idea at least one of his students would be unable to pay attention. He imagines how Castiel had looked that morning, his hair even messier than now, only wearing boxers. His arms and chest are broad, he probably works out, Dean thinks, and Dean thinks about Castiel doing push-ups and jogging and going to the gym. Which gym would he be going to? If Dean can find out, he’ll go there as well. Accidentally show up and stand at the showers so he might catch a glimpse of his naked body and…   

“Dean, did you hear me?”

Dean startles and sits up straight, his teacher’s voice drilling through his daydreams.

“What- I… No, sorry sir.” He stutters and several students laugh. Dean’s cheeks burn and he swallows away his thoughts, trying to get himself back to reality. “I… Could- could you maybe repeat that?”

Castiel looks at him thoughtfully, tilting his head.

“Of course, Dean. I was asking you if you’d be able to tell me what the author means with this sentence.”

Dean blinks in confusion. He quickly reads the quote on the board and thinks on top speed, remembering what his teacher had said yesterday.

“Uhm… He- He recalls the way people in his town see homosexuals and how he suffers from that.” He stutters through quickly. Castiel nods, his eyes still on him. Dean wishes he’d look away, yet never wants to stop looking into that blue.

“Exactly, Dean. Next time try to keep your thoughts in class, alright?”

Some people chuckle again.

“Yes- Sorry, sir.” Dean wishes he could disappear. He stays nervous and avoids looking at his teacher altogether. When Castiel puts them to work, Dean can’t concentrate on anything he’s reading. He taps his pen on his book, reading the same sentence over and over again. Ten minutes in, Castiel suddenly turns up next to his desk. Dean wants to hide that he hasn’t written anything down yet, but his teacher already saw. He kneels down at Dean’s table and whispers so no one else can hear.

“Do you need any help, Dean?” From this close, Dean realizes how young Castiel actually is. He knows he’s the youngest teacher in school, but Castiel’s clothes and standard frown make him look older.

“No,” Dean mutters back. He swallows and stares at his pen. Castiel smells good, like honey and something earthy, warm and rich. “I don’t- I just… I can’t really concentrate today.”

Any other teacher would’ve said he should try harder, or tell him that isn’t an excuse. But Mr. Novak nods.

“I see. Just see if you can write something down, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean gives him a thankful smile. As Castiel gets up, his hand brushes over Dean’s shoulder for a moment. It’s impossible to concentrate that class.

Everyone hurries out when the bell rings, but as Dean is packing his bag, Mr. Novak calls his name.

“Dean, will you stay for a moment?”

Dean has never been alone with Castiel before, not like this, with a closed door and no other students around. Castiel takes off the glasses he used while grading papers and rubs his eyes, then looks at Dean.

“Did you get anything done today?”

“No.” Dean mumbles. “Sorry, I-”

“That’s okay, I was just curious.” Castiel nods at the table in front of his desk and Dean sits down slowly. “I noticed you weren’t very comfortable today and I wondered if I could do anything to make you feel better.” He continues. “And you know that if there’s something wrong… Know you can always come to me.”

Dean nods but stays quiet. He doesn’t know what to say, seen his problem.

But Castiel seems to see right through him. He squints and leans forward, making Dean swallow.

“Dean. You can tell me anything.” Castiel says, his voice more pressured.

“No,” Dean says, he can’t pretend there’s nothing going on. “Not this.”

Castiel leans back into his chair and observes him. It makes Dean even more nervous and he shifts, looking at the table.

“I… am aware of your home situation if that’s what you mean. As your counselor, I know.”

Dean shakes his head. Castiel is one of the only teachers at school to know times at home can be rough.

“But I see that’s not it. How about- problems with a girl?”

Dean shakes his head and laughs, he wished it was that simple. “If only.”

“A guy?”

Dean meets his eyes for the first time. He thinks about lying, saying it has nothing to do with that, but he knows his face already gave him away.

“Uh, well- I just… I’ve always liked girls, y’know,” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s talking to Castiel of all people, maybe because he’s the one to give him all this trouble, but he does, the words suddenly spilling out. “I’ve- liked one guy in the past, but I didn’t really realize until later. And now I like this other guy and I have been trying to push it away because it’s wrong but I can’t, it just doesn’t leave me.”

If Castiel is surprised, he doesn’t show. He just observes.

“Why is it wrong, you say? Being gay, or bisexual in your case, isn’t wrong. Just like in the literature we discussed today, people who disagree will never understand until they feel that same way.”

“I know,” Dean says quickly, “but next to him being a man… it’s also- unethical to like this guy.” Dean laughs, shaking his head. “Impossible, against the rules and unethical. Pretty much sums it up.”
They sit like that for a long time, but Dean doesn’t feel like leaving. Yes, this is the most awkward conversation he’s ever had, but he still feels comfortable here with Cas. Alone, together.

Finally, Cas talks.

“Rules are made for those who want to do bad, profane opportunities laid out for them. Sometimes, good people with right intentions are… constrained by said rules. It’s complex, but if you, Dean, were ever to break those rules, don’t feel like you’re a bad person because of it. You’re not wrong, the rules are.”
Dean is perplexed. He listens to Castiel talk, focuses on the way he moves his hand and raises his eyebrows as he speaks. When he’s done, Dean just stares, like he does when Castiel isn’t looking- but now right at him.

Castiel does something Dean didn’t think he ever would- he blushes and looks away, biting his bottom lip.

“What?” Dean asks, smiling.

“Nothing.” Castiel shakes his head. “Just you- you looking at me. It confused me. As if… As if I said something special. ”

“But you did. What you said is…  I’ve never heard anyone say that, and you’re a teacher. Shouldn’t you be all about the rules? ‘Be strict, don’t be friends with your students but be their superior’, that sorta thing?”

Castiel seems embarrassed still, but he smiles.

“Let’s say I know the rules, yet like I said, some rules are wrong. And maybe I’m too young. I’m not the best teacher, I treat my students more as friends, which I shouldn’t. I think there’s a lot for me to learn.”

“I think you’re the best teacher we’ve ever had,” Dean says without hesitating. “I don’t try as hard for my other classes, I don’t care if other teachers get mad at me, I don’t… I don’t care what they think about me. They’re all just strangers to me. But you…” Dean swallows. “You’re different. I wanna finish my damn homework so you see I tried my best, and I care about what you think of me.”

It’s Castiel’s time to be out of words. The blush gets darker, his smile more difficult to hold back.
“That’s… a large compliment, Dean. And for the record, I think you’re a great person, not just a great student. I see you struggle, but you push through anyway. That takes a lot of strength.”

Dean scratches his neck, his answer got lost in his throat. Castiel doesn’t seem to mind and gets up and begins to pack his bag. It’s Dean’s sign to get up as well.

“Sir?” He tries. “Would you ever break a school rule, knowing it’d get you in danger of your job if it was something you felt was the right thing to do? If that would be the thing you’d do without the rules?” He asks. He makes it sound like it’s about himself, but he’s testing Castiel out.
“I would,” Castiel answers simply as he zips his bag close. “Between you and me, I don’t think about the school rules as much as I should.” He shrugs and looks at him. “I have a lot to learn.”

Dean’s heart skips a beat by the answer, and it seems to stop when Castiel’s hand rests on his shoulder. He guides him to the door.

“Dean,” Castiel asks before opening it. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen, why?”

Castiel’s hand is still on his shoulder.

“You’re very smart for your age.”

Dean doesn’t believe him, but his eyes are distracting him from that.

“You’re very nice for a teacher.”

Cas chuckles but quickly turns serious. He takes a deep breath. “The guy you were talking about- is it me?”

It isn’t the question Dean was expecting or wanted to be asked and it hits him. All comfort he’d felt slips away.

“Uh, I- yeah.” He mumbles, looking away. When Castiel doesn’t answer, Dean groans softly. “I’m sorry I messed up, I- I should go.” He never meant to tell him, and now he did it, he realizes why.

He reaches for the door, ready to leave, but a warm, strong hand holds him back.

“Dean.” Castiel’s eyes are so fiery Dean has to look. “You know how I feel about the rules.” He raises his eyebrows, still holding his wrist. “And… I’ve seen you look when you thought I didn’t notice. I’ve- looked myself as well, making sure you really didn’t notice. So… I’m- free all Saturday.”
Dean’s bag slides down his shoulder but he doesn’t hold it back. He’d dreamed a lot about a moment like this, but as it turns out, reality is always better.

“You- really?” He manages.

Castiel smiles almost teasing. “All Saturday, it’s rare, I know.”
Dean lets out a nervous laugh, opening his mouth to speak but not able to. “Do I see you Saturday?” Castiel asks as if it’s a question from their literature book.

“Yes,” Dean says quickly, he never knew an answer this fast before. “Yes, totally.”

Nonbinary Logic

I’ve got kind of a mechanical bias in my thinking, this might be a bit of a ramble but I’ve been considering something just lately that I think is pretty neat.

You probably know that computers work at the most base level on mathematical binary, 1′s and 0′s, that’s purely mathematical logic. But people have a tendency to get confused about how that translates to actual logic, or what we could call mechanical logic or machine thinking.
They have a tendency to think of binary data as being just one or zero, two options, pure binary. I swear I’m going somewhere with this.

The reality is that it’s more like a yes or no answer without any assumption about what the “no” means, it’s just “not yes”. A computer doesn’t have binary assumptions, it’s working purely on raw data and only knows what yes means, it has no concept of opposites.
This is crucial to understanding this kind of pure logic, because we have a much messier form on it drilled into us based on assumptions. We know that the opposite of left is right, the opposite of hot is cold, the opposite of right is wrong.
Now what if I asked you what the opposite of “dog” is? I’d put money down you immediately thought “cat”, even though you obviously know that doesn’t really make any sense, they’re just two different species, but it just feels right.

If a machine used that kind of logic it would tell you anything that isn’t a dog must be a cat, and that’s just silly. Some things are horses. The more mechanical logic is just that anything that isn’t a dog is just…well, not a dog.

Where it gets interesting is if you ask someone what the opposite of “man” is, you know what they’ll say, I don’t think I need to spell that one out.
To a machine the opposite of “man” is just “not man”, and the opposite of “woman” is just “not woman”, so something can be neither and the logic ticks over without a hitch or any conflicts, and it won’t even catch fire or anything.

And I think that’s somewhere people can really learn a thing or two about logic, things aren’t black and white, they’re just black and “not black”.