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#For the record I also think there are plenty of things to come in the future for Prime. I mean...the void? The presence of the green chaos
yuurivoice · 3 days
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Alot of big creators having deep lore in thier stories is making your fans over analyze everything and you're just like "nah thats not important" "not that deep" "anything outside of the story isn't important its just for fun" lol
A little bit, I think. There's plenty of things that are fairly deep and lore relevant, and theorizing on that front is good and fun. There's just a clear distinction in what is and is not like that in my work, and some folks who like the more loosely tied together things like Lucien for example, would love it if it was deeper.
But I'm not gonna squeak out a fart if I ain't ready to toot, because that's how you end up shitting your britches, ya feel me?
(Jackie Commentary: "The real Tortured Poets Department...")
I think it's partly a symptom of the long wait between big narrative installments like BitterSweet and Auron's stuff, because people want to dig and that's a good thing, but there hasn't been a ton of new stuff to dig into for a while. Or they want to dig elsewhere and then when they come to me with questions I'm just like...idk man I don't even remember what you're referencing because I wrote it at 3am during a manic episode and forced myself to record it when I could hardly function. lol
I'm not that clever or deep, I don't present myself like some super talented writer who has a whole conspiracy board of lore mapped out in my office. I'm a fucking mess of a man who has failed upwards and thankfully people enjoy what I create, when I'm able to create it, and the rest is smut.
We also have a bit of an issue with people who only halfway know what they're talking about speaking like they 100% know what's going on and they're only half right and don't even know why. Like referring to all listeners as "Dreamers" only somewhat right, or thinking that only some characters are "Dreamers" is also not right.
And it's actually spelled out pretty clearly what Dreamers are if you know where to look, but I'm not just going to state it plainly in a random Tumblr post because I have plans on how it'll be addressed in the content itself.
So basically, with a lot of what I'm working on I'm also trying to make shit as clear as I can, tidying up the knowledge and lore for people while also creating some new questions to ponder that at least put people back on the right track.
There are also a lot of folks who have things pretty figured out, but they're...just chilling, I think. LOL
Ultimately, having people really curious and creative about things to the point of theory crafting and going deep is a good thing. I just...don't always have satisfying explanations or answers to some things because I'm not so deeply involved with my characters or some of their less intricate stories that I can just...unload a bunch of random trivia about them.
The speculative part of being a fan of character or story is the fun part, and I worry that having such direct access to me actually fucks that up to an extent. And because of the intimate nature of the content, people get really really really invested in these characters on levels that I don't typically go to. Seth and Alphonse, maybe Auron, are exceptions because they're very personal to me. But otherwise? That doesn't happen very often.
Anywho, we're probably at another juncture where I have to decide if it's healthier for me to take a few steps back and be less involved on this side of things for a while. It can get really exhausting and it doesn't have to be, but for me and for the fandom, probably.
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smartzelda · 9 months
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Okay
Sonic Prime theory time
(Because I'm going through it right now)
Specifically I want to talk about my own answer to the question "How will the show end?"
Thoughts/Analysis under the cut
Season 2 Spoilers
So, as I see it, there are about three possible endings.
Ending 1: Goodbyes are said. The universe is reverted back to its state before the shattering and Sonic gets his original friends back. (May also come with sonic being the only one who remembers what happened, but I can't rule out the concept of his friends remembering anything as well)
Ending 2: Sonic comes to terms with the fact that he can't bring back the original Green Hill and his old friends as they were. The shatterverse continues as is. (This most likely constitutes in a bit of a bittersweet ending where everything continues as is, but Sonic swears not to forget what things were like before)
And Ending 3: Sonic gets to have his cake and eat it too (He manages to fix ghost hill and bring his original friends back while the new shatterspaces and his new friends/all the new characters also get to stay around)
Originally, while being partial to option 3, I assumed option 1 would be most likely. After all, option 3 originally originated as my happy "everyone lives" idea. I liked (and still do) imagining the possibilities that would arise from the universe from Sonic Prime entering a Kingdom Hearts-like state (where either the characters can travel freely between worlds while still needing to be conscious of each shatterspace's order, or travel between them is nonexistent/extremely limited). While I liked the bittersweet nature/possibilities of option 2, I found that outcome to be more unlikely given the show's audience.
I'm not saying that shows that keep an audience of children in mind can never end bittersweetly or that it's never happened before. It's just more like I find it hard to see those involved in the show effectively rendering beloved characters as dead/gone forever and make Sonic move on while with "different versions" of said characters.
However, now I'm a bit more inclined to believe in version 3 (the "everybody lives" ending), and here's...my long winded way of saying why
So, about where I changed my mind is when I realized that Sonic Prime...isn't a typical alternate dimensions/multiverse storyline, especially with what seems to be it's basic framework.
So, when Sonic shatters the paradox prism, all of his friends and Green Hill are shattered as well. So it stands to reason that 5 different facets of his friends became splintered between 5 different versions of green hill, right?
Wrong.
I've seen a few different claims on what's going on here (usually to explain the other versions of Sonic's friends and their personalities). One of the most prominent is that each of the Amys, Tails, Knuckles, what have you, are meant to represent different pieces of those characters (i.e. that Rusty Rose and Thorn Rose represent different parts of Amy Rose's personality), and thus each versions of a singular character make up the whole of the original one. This of course functions on the idea that there *are* five different worlds of which there five different alternatives of any given person (or at least of those caught in the original blast) and that they all (personality wise and/or objective wise) are different necessary pieces to make up the whole of said characters (should Sonic want his original friends back).
But the inconsistencies in this framework (for which most of this theory's merit hinges upon) start beginning in the very first episode of season 1 "Shattered".
After "The Shattering" Doctor Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik returns as The Chaos Council (five different versions of Robotnik from seemingly different points in a singular lifespan, who refer to each other by nicknames). Of course it would make sense if these 5 (the chaos council) all came together after conquering their respective shatterspaces, using New Yolk as a central headquarters; however, we soon learn that this is not the case. The council only begins to learn about the shatterspaces and more about the shard energy they posses later in season 1, and season 2 elaborates upon the state of (formerly) Green Hill during it's conquering (building upon what the audience can gather from Renegade and Rebel's testemony of the event). Specifically we note that the five conquered (formerly) Green Hill and built New Yolk together. Evidence of course suggests that the five came to be in the same shatterspace, even possibly at the same time. No matter how perfect it is that there are five of them (one for each shatterspace as they set out to conquer the shatterverse), they all originated in a single universe rather than being split up across five separate ones.
And speaking of there being five eggmen, why don't we move onto inconsistency two?
Outside of Eggman, there exists only three alternate versions of Sonic's friends (this includes Amy, Tails, Rouge, Knuckles, Big, and Froggy). The only alternates exist in New Yolk, Boscage Maze, and No Place. Otherwise, The Grim is devoid of all life and has a repetitive (but distinctly non Green Hill landscape), and "Ghost Hill" just contains...ideas or blueprints of Green Hill and Sonic's original friends. It's strange that the Eggmen would all originate in New Yolk while the rest are the only one of themselves in each given shatterspace, and stranger still that there would be five eggmen but only 3 of the rest, if we intend to follow the framework of this being a usual world shattered into multiverse story.
And so, there are two final inconsistencies.
The first is the idea that each of the alternates of Sonic's original friends (and Eggman) are just...pieces of the originals, that each piece represents a different goal or personality trait. I won't dig into peoples' complaints about the characterizations of the alternates in relation to the original characters, and another theory/analysis of mine (reasoning as to why each of the alternates in each shatterspace are the way that they are) is best left for another post. So for now, I hope you all settle on the fact that...the alternates aren't actually presented as separate facets of personalities or goals personified? There's no separation by "Oh this is is the impulsive Amy, and this is the loyal Amy, and this is the nature loving Amy" or "This is depressive Knuckles, and this is angry Knuckles, and this is hopeful Knuckles", or even "This Rouge who loves shiny gems more than life, and this is Rouge who gives her all to fight for her home, and this is Rouge who is a seductress" (please understand that this is just an example of what I'm talking about, not character analysis of Sonic's original pals). In fact, even after season 2's end there is still no mention (even from sonic's end) of the idea of them being pieces of his friends (and more to suggest that they are their own, whole, well rounded people). But, as I said, that's all I'll say about this until I get on that character analysis post.
The second inconsistency is Green Hill itself and (frankly) the mere *existence* of both Ghost Hill and The Grim. Like I previously mentioned, under the typical "multiverse x splintered universe/people" framework it would make sense that Green Hill would exist in each of them (especially given Sonic's fixation on it with it being his home, but again, Sonic's influence on the shatterspaces is an analysis post for another time) as well as his friends and Robotnik. Yet, there exists a shatterspace with nobody on it (and if we're going under the assumption that each version of Sonic's original friends are splintered upon each universe, needing each piece to be whole again, it would be tragic for one of those "pieces" to be dead before Sonic even arrives, wouldn't it?) and an embryonic shatterspace.
A shatterspace where no one and nothing exists, not even Green Hill. Sonic pinpoints the landmarks of Green Hill in each shatterspace (always the loop de loop and Hedgehog's pass, and sometimes Tails' lab), only to come across a shatterspace where...none of that seems to exist or ever have existed (and if so, there is no trace of it).
A shatterspace where nothing quite is yet. A shatterspace stuck in the stages of forming. A shatterspace that is...identical to Sonic's Green Hill and even contains his original friends?
Well, isn't that fascinating
It's almost as if the idea that Sonic's original friends and the new characters cannot possibly exist at the same time is a misdirection at absolute best and at worst–
Ah ah ah. We'll get back to that later. For now let's continue on.
So, these "inconsistencies". What does the existence of them mean? Bad writing?
Well...I think not. Stories about multiverses with alternate versions of the same people or ones that depict the future outcomes of different choices are not new or hard to find examples of. The animated Spiderverse movie did it, Marvel did it, DC did it, the Invader Zim comics did it, Futurama did it. Heck, even the Archie Sonic comics did that in the 90s. The same can be said about stories that feature horrible accidents resulting in singular people split into multiples of themselves or multiple personalities, or even stories that feature physical representations of a characters motivations, emotions, personalites, or goals. There are *too* many examples to draw from for inconsistencies like this to be on accident. Heck, anyone right now could write a multiverse story about a person who shatters their world into five separate worlds and the people on them into five separate people, that each dwell in the five different worlds, and each represents a facet of the original world and the personalities/motivations of the original beings that lived on the original world, after a freak accident, to which said person may need to merge the pieces of the worlds and people to restore the original world and the original people who lived there (now that I think about it...isn't this kind of one of the plots of Yugioh Arc V😅😂 I haven't fully watched that anime, but...random thoughts, you know).
So all of these "inconsistencies" I think are conscious choices by the writers.
Conscious choices that are *meant* to make us realize that *something* isn't right or usual here.
This story does not run upon the framework one would originally assume (and one that plenty of people think it is running upon even now). That's what I believe the inconsistencies mean.
So what does this have to do with the possible ending of Sonic Prime?
Carry forward our theme of picking the story apart from its assumed framework and analyzing what we see rather than what we initially assume or are told.
And let us begin with the season 2 finale before we backtrack.
So, uh
That finale, eh?🥲
I rewatched it again myself just today, and (although I did see it in my first watchthrough) it hurts to watch the buildup to it. It shows in the way Shadow distrusts Nine from the moment Sonic mentions him. It shows in Sonic and Nine's first conversation together in The Grim. It shows in the way different people try to get Sonic to stop trusting Nine, in the way Shadow tells him point blank that they likely don't want the same thing. It shows when Nine meets the other alternate versions of Tails and meets his apparition. And it comes to fruition the moment Nine finishes working on the paradox prism (save one shard).
Shadow was working towards the goal of reverting everything back as it used to be before the shattering (after all, he doesn't consider Nine and the others "real")
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Nine was working towards the goal of building a home—a new home for he and Sonic to be together in the Grim. (After all, he is real, he could care less about anyone that's not Sonic, and he doesn't believe it's even possible to ressurect what he believes to be gone)
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And Sonic was working towards the goal of restoring Green Hill and bringing back his friends while the shatterverse yet exists.
Yes, you heard me right.
Sure, way back in season one his goal was just to make everything "normal" again, and in a way that’s still true (it's just his definition of normal has shifted from "everything should be exactly how it was" to "my old friends and home need to exist again"), but his perspectives on the shatterspaces and the new characters are different from how they were back then.
Back in season one he'd considered them just *basically* his old friends shifted to the left or like his old friends were buried inside them. It took him a little while to call them by their own names/titles rather than referring to them by the names of his original friends. He'd believed that Thorn would come around to friendship because she was like his Amy deep inside, and that Dread would return to captaining his crew because he had Knuckles' loyalty deep inside him.
But we begin to see this shift in real time, and the proof of it all is something Sonic tells Shadow in their first conversation about Nine.
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Nine is real to him. They're all real.
And if Sonic didn't think they weren't, he would not have pushed Nine to take him back to New Yolk so he could save Renegade and Rebel and the people from being killed/beaten down. If they weren't growing on him, if he didn't still want them around, he would not have admitted that he wants Nine to meet Tails (or any of his original friends)
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But again, full character analysis (even that of Sonic) is best left for another post (so I don't go off on too many tangents). So, I'll make my point.
I think Shadow and Nine each represent two opposing goals/outcomes (the outcome where everything reverts back to how it was originally versus the outcome where everything continues as is and Sonic has to move on) while Sonic is stuck between them (no longer quite as willing to erase all of his new friends and their realities, despite how desperately he wishes to have his home and original friends back). And what this framework (of Sonic being stuck between two different theoretical outcomes and ideology (whether he should try to get everything back just how it was or move on and start anew, possibly even forgetting what was before)) seems to lead up to is Sonic's inevitable choice.
Our original choice of Option 1 and Option 2. Will Sonic choose to restore everything to as it was before, or will Sonic choose to keep everything as is?
And yes, some people think he's already made his choice (whether he's come to terms with the possible fact that he may have to sacrifice one for the other is irrelevant). Some people are already planning the funerals of our new characters as Sonic can't bear to choose anything over his old home and friends.
But...really. Who says he has to make that choice? Is choosing between reverting everything "back to normal" or moving on as if his friends/home are dead and gone really his only choice, or is it what the characters (and some of us by extension) have just assumed?
Let's go back to earlier Season 2.
While Season 1 primarily focuses on Sonic trying and failing to collect the Paradox Prism shards in hopes it might fix something, Season 2's focus (aided by Sonic now making acquaintances out of the once strangers of the shatterspaces) is primarily Sonic's race against the Chaos Council to gathering and assembling all five shards (so Sonic can restore his home and friends and thwart the council's plan to conquer the shatterverse).
But while in Season 1 Sonic's attempts to gather the shards often fail once he accidentally touches a shard,
In Season 2 Sonic's attempts fail because of the conscious choice he makes to protect his new friends over making off with the shards.
Season 2 Episode 2. "Battle in the Boscage". Sonic takes the Boscage shard in hopes of luring the Chaos Council and their eggforcers away from Thorn, Prim, and the Boscage gang, allowing their lives to be spared as he takes off with the shard. Not long after he begins running, Dr. Babble throws a tantrum, throwing around his own eggforcers as he continues to fight the Boscage gang and topple trees. Seeing that the council did not follow him, Sonic is given the choice to keep running and make it out with the prism without trouble, or to save his new friends. Upon choosing to come back for the Boscage gang, he saves them at the cost of the council stealing the Boscage shard from him.
Season 2 Episode 4. "No Way Out". Sonic and Dread (in the midst of the 3 way battle between Dread's crew, Sonic, and the Chaos Council) begin a one on one fight over the shard. Sonic, who sees Rusty Rose about to be ambushed by an eggforcer, gives up taking the shard from Dread in favor of saving her life instead.
And then again in Season 2 Episode 4 "No Way Out". The Chaos Council, who has Sonic surrounded, gives him an ultimatum. The lives of his friends, or the No Place shard.
But the other two examples mostly stand to show off to the audience Sonic's morals and that he cares about the wellbeing of his new friends (and are more subtle about it being a choice, given that in Boscage he didn't assume saving the gang would result in him losing the shard, and earlier in s2 ep4 he had technically gambled on still being able to get the shard back despite his choice). This choice is much more clear and on a grander scale. Mr. Dr. Eggman outright says "Hand over the shard, or say goodbye to your friends forever". This is not just a choice in the heat of the moment. This is "the shard, or the lives of your friends".
And this scene of "give us the ultimate power we want and we'll spare your friends" too is not an uncommon scene in media (the season finale of mlp fim s4 does come to mind here).
Except, once again, despite the numerous examples for the writing team to draw on, there is again an "inconsistency".
Because Sonic *doesn't* make a choice within the framework the council gives him. Unlike in the earlier examples, unlike in similar choices in media, the story does not go down the route of Sonic willingly and easily giving up the shard as some of his friends yell "No!"
Batten makes clear her stance that Sonic should hand the shard over for their lives, Rusty makes her stance clear that her life is expendable if it keeps the Chaos Council from taking over everything, and Nine motions at him to keep gathering the shards as in the plan, to not give it over.
And just as everyone thinks Sonic is going to give the shard over, he throws it, and he tells the council to get it themselves if they want it so bad.
Yes, in the end the council ends up with the shard again while Sonic's friends are safe, but he did not yield to the "this or that" choice. He was stuck in the middle of getting the shard (possibly necessary to save his home) or giving the shard to the council (and making his goal of restoring his original friends and home harder), and he took the middle road (a choice which seems to please even Nine).
Taking the middle road allows him more certainty that his friends (save Nine of course) will be saved and allows him to gamble with the possibility of also getting the shard back. It is a choice that gets him closer to what he wants on his own terms.
And the narrative rewards him for making this choice.
Because after choosing to protect his new friends, which are equally as real as the old ones, and choosing to take the middle path he's on rather than succumbing to the "this or that" choice he's been given, so happens season 2 episode 6 "Double Trouble" and episode 7 "Cracking Down".
Sonic is allowed to get all 3 shards (which includs the two he'd lost as a result of his choices) and save Nine, and the two travel with Shadow to ghost hill.
Keep this in mind. What could have been a season long endeavor of plan (or plans) to get the shards back from the council (even after Sonic let them go to protect his friends) became a successful escape plan in which he and Nine stole them away.
So, back to the season 2 finale and beyond.
Just like with Sonic's ultimatum in Season 2 Episode 4 "No Way Out", Sonic is idealogically placed between Shadow (who is distrustful of Nine and assumes Sonic is trying to revert everything to as it was before with him) and Nine (who doesn't share Shadow's goal and assumes Sonic is on board with his goal to turn The Grim into a new home for the both of them).
(Perhaps Sonic, Shadow, and Nine's problems with assuming one of the other is on the same page as them would be another good essay topic, or perhaps it would function as a small piece of the analysis topic on why Season 2 ends the way it does)
But Sonic...doesn't get to make a choice. The shard is almost finished, but it’s incomplete still, and Nine takes it with him. Shadow isn't even in the room to exert his opinion as before. The scene is well, frankly, filled with miscommunication on the same scale as Nine and Sonic's first conversation in the Grim, because they both get something different out of it.
But I want to make my view clear. Sonic is still fundamentally in the middle of the two goals I mentioned. He is *still* stuck between Shadow and Nine (the difference is just that Nine thinks Sonic shares Shadow's goals, and Shadow most likely thinks Sonic shares Shadow's goals, and Sonic just...wants everything to work out fine for everyone). And I think Sonic will eventually be raised the outright choice or ultimatum (or at the very least, these assumed outcomes will come back for him to wonder over).
In Season 3, we will most likely see major parties fighting over the paradox prism (the council, Nine, etc).
I believe it's possible that Nine (because he's more attached to Sonic possibly than he even believes, and because he'd *still* made plans with Sonic after S1, even after he had every right to feel left behind and betrayed by him) may attempt to use this power not only to transform the Grim into his home, but to bring Sonic to his side. Likewise, as with the miscommunication that began Sonic and Shadow's fight in S2 Ep1 in Ghost Hill, I think it's possible we could see a similar fallout from the s2 finale with Sonic and Shadow (because I believe Sonic will make it clear that he believes his new friends' lives can be preserved), and I can see Shadow also trying to get Sonic to take his side (because he doesn't understand what there is to be attached to).
And I think when Sonic is raised this ultimatum (save Nine and the shatterverse or save Green Hill and his original friends), I think he will make his own choice.
The idea that he even *has* to make one of those two choices is a red herring.
For what other than speculation suggests there is no middle road?
I mean, the fact that for a moment Ghost Hill becomes Green Hill, Sonic's old friends begin to exist in the shatterverse while the Chaos Council and Nine work unperturbed show us that perhaps Sonic *can* have his cake and eat it too.
Tl;dr: Sonic Prime isn't a typical multiverse x shattered universe story. The narrative is building up to an eventual choice Sonic will seemingly have to make between his old reality and his new reality as it pits him between Shadow and Nine's respective goals. However, the choice itself is a red herring, as I believe Sonic will make a choice on his own terms (the choice to allow his old friends and home to coexist with his new friends and their homes). I think this story can plausibly end with an "everybody lives" ending.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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lunamugetsu · 3 months
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Danny is a house husband.
That's it, that's all it is.
As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.
Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.
Sam and Tucker on the other hand....
Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.
But they had one rule.
Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.
Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.
Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.
And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.
He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.
Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.
So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)
And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.
Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.
Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.
Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.
Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.
The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.
Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.
The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.
This is not the last they see of Danny.
When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.
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jayybugg · 2 months
Text
nurse
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.
Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).
Word Count: 4.6K
Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.
Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.
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Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.
So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.
“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”
There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”
Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.
Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.
First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.
Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.
“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”
“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.
“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”
“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”
“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.
“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”
“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”
“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.
“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.
“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.
Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.
“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”
With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”
Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.
You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.
“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.
“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.
“I know.”
“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”
There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.
“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”
Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”
Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.
“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”
“No, I don’t.”
You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”
“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.
“But-”
Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.
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“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.
“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”
“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”
“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”
You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.
“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.
“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”
“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.
“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.
Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.
When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.
“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.
Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”
“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.
“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”
“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.
“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.
Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.
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When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.
You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.
You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.
“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”
“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”
Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.
“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.
That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.
However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.
It felt familiar.
Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.
“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.
“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.
You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.
“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.
Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.
“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.
“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”
“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.
You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”
“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.
You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.
4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”
Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”
“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.
“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”
Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.
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You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.
You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.
You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.
“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”
You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”
Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.
“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.
“Give me a check-up.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.
“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”
“I do but-”
“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.
You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”
Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”
“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.
It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.
“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.
“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.
Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”
“What?” Your eyes widened.
“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”
“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.
“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.
Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.
“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”
“Ghost....”
“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”
“How I need to ruin you.”
You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”
“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”
You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”
“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”
Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.
A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.
“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.
You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”
You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”
“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.
He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.
“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.
Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”
Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.
He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.
Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.
Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.
“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”
Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.
“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”
Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.
“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.
“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.
“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.
“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.
“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.
Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.
“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.
“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”
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“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.
“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”
“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.
“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”
Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”
Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.
“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”
“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.
“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”
Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.
Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.
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Text
The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.
What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.
It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.
That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.
Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."
The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.
They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?
And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"
They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.
They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.
It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.
Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.
To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.
Suddenly, a car horn.
Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"
Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"
There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"
Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"
And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".
Eddie wanted to punch him.
But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.
Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"
A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.
"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"
They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.
The man completely ignored them.
"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."
All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".
The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."
Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."
Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.
"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"
Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."
And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"
Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.
Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.
But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:
"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."
Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.
"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."
And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"
Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."
Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:
After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.
The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.
Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.
And finally...
The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".
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sylvestris123 · 8 months
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What does the pre-Fall scene actually mean?
I’ve been thinking about that first scene, with pre-Fall Crowley. We are all swooning over how sweet and innocent Angel!Crowley is, and how smitten Aziraphale is, but on reflection there is something odd about this scene.
The action takes place before the rebellion, before the Fall, when bad things hadn’t even been invented yet. So why is Aziraphale already worried about Angel!Crowley getting into trouble for asking questions? Shouldn’t he also be a cute innocent bundle of fluff without a care in the world?
There is a meta that examines this (sorry, I can’t find it, I’m useless at this), which comes to the conclusion that Aziraphale later on is suffering from guilt (that he might have unwittingly prompted Crowley to seek answers and hence fall), but this still doesn’t explain why Aziraphale knows that asking questions might be a Bad Idea, and Angel!Crowley doesn’t. After all, Angel!Crowley has apparently been working “very closely with Upstairs”.  Shouldn’t he be a bit more clued up?
This leads me to think that there are 2 possible explanations for this.
1. Angel!Crowley has been so far out of things playing with stars that he really is clueless about everything (possible but doesn’t really match up to the Crowley that we know today).
2. This is not a true record of events.
Either: it is one of Aziraphale’s memories, but coloured by what he knows today, so the conversation that actually occurred might have been quite different. Maybe it is because of Aziraphale’s less than perfect recall, or maybe the memory was tweaked (e.g. by the Metatron) to emphasize the innocence of Angel!Crowley and the injustice of his later fall.
Or: IT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED AT ALL. Their true first meeting was as S1, on the walls of Eden, and it is all a false memory planted by the Metatron. (This could also explain why we don’t get to hear Angel!Crowley’s name. It’s not actually known, so can’t be added to the ‘memory’). Why would he do this? It could be to make Aziraphale think that Angel!Crowley was so full of joy that he should be reinstated to recapture that innocence.
There are plenty of theories about the other flashback episodes in the series, all of which could be interpreted as showing off Crowley’s 'good' side, to make the thought of his reinstatement as an angel more plausible or even necessary to right an ancient wrong.
If any or all of this is the Metatron’s doing, what is the motive? He clearly loathes Crowley. Maybe reinstatement as an angel would automatically wipe out his memories of being Crowley and all of his Earthly experience, so you would end up with a cute innocent (and ultimately useless) angel with no memories of his friendship with Aziraphale. Or perhaps it was a way to get him to come up to Heaven where he could be ambushed and imprisoned.
Or maybe the Metatron always knew that the very concept would go down like a lead balloon and that its aim was to make Aziraphale and Crowley part in such a way that they would be less likely to try to contact each other later.
There are so many pieces to this puzzle. Just when I think that a couple might go together I find others that don’t fit with the patterns already made, and which sometimes seem to belong to a different puzzle altogether. I’m sure that I already have 5 corner pieces.
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paper-mario-wiki · 2 months
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I'm sending you an ask even though I'm not sure I should. I envy you, I think. You seem so happy and confident after transition and I really like to see it, but it also stirs a kind of grief in me that I don't really know how to handle. I'm six foot six and as wide across the shoulders as some people are tall and I have absolutely no hope of looking like anything other than a masculine linebacker. I'm trying to learn how to like it, going for a bear look, but some part of me sees a happiness in you that I don't think I can ever really have. none of this is your fault and though i know it's weird I hope you can still read this as a compliment because I do like seeing that even if it's not something I can do, sometimes people can end up happy with their gender. I think you're a beautiful person and I like seeing your online presence.
sorry for the big ramble wall I'm just going through it tonight. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for being visible.
i am 6 foot 1, and throughout my life people told me i'd make a good football player.
here are the lifestyle things i did (that dont really have anything to do with gender and were just healthy changes and experiments) that let me stumble into getting over this feeling easier:
eliminate soda entirely. no more soda at all. not with fast food, not out of a can from the fridge, none. drink water. its sooooooo fucking yummy.
walk around plenty every day. in circles if you have to. put on headphones, or a speaker if you're inside. listen to music or some books or talk to your dog or your plants or yourself or record a podcast or something, but just make sure you're walking around. the form this comes in for me is walking around outside with my dog for 40 minutes, 3 to 5 times a day depending on how shes feeling.
put on some eyeliner. you dont have to shave or put on a full face of makeup or nothin. just go to the supermarket's generic makeup aisle and get any old 8-dollar eyeliner. nobody's gonna see, you're just trying somethin out in the privacy of your bathroom.
learn to make your hair look nice. it's an often neglected but very important part of your overall silhouette.
pay attention to how you're dressing. are you putting on clothing that you actively enjoy wearing, or do you throw on comfortable pants and baggy tshirt with a design you like? an easy start for this is jackets. theres SO many dope vintage jackets on ebay and in thrift stores, that's how i started experimenting with making something i'd consider a "wardrobe" and not just "clothes".
give this some time and see how you feel. pay attention to how your body feels. if you feel lighter, or like walking around becomes less of a burden, try shaving your beard, and then try on the eyeliner again.
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even a bear can become dainty, if they actively seek it out.
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mrchiipchrome · 3 months
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Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire
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W.C.- 2 k
a/n: This is part of the 'Parents' universe, also i need a better title for it sooo please give me suggestions:)
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“Aye María, you’re trending on twitter.” Mapi’s head snaps in your direction, eyes gleaming with excitement. She has no reason to be skeptical, you look truthful as always, blinding smile stretching across your lips. 
“Really?!-” Just as she was about to ask why she was trending, you interrupt her. 
“No.” Your tone was one of complete seriousness, deadpan beyond comprehension. You look on in delight as your teammate’s smile drops off the vicinity of her face, lips contorting into a disappointed frown. 
The back of your head stings with the hands coming down to hit it, a slap to the back of the head never hurt anyone, except you of course.
“Y/n, that’s not nice.” Alexia chides as you rub over the sensitive parts of your head, still stinging from the brutal hits. She looks at you through her peripheral vision, seeing the smile that’s still stretched across your lips, rolling her eyes at your childish nature. 
What did she expect though when they brought in a child?
“Neither was the prank she pulled on me last week but you didn’t tell her off for that, did you?” Annoyance seeps into your tone, slapping away the hand ruffling your hair. Alexia rolls her eyes at you again and you can barely resist telling her that they might get stuck like that if she continues, it was always fun to rile the woman up.
“You wanna test me cariño? I can make your life hell.” She interprets the huff you let out as acceptance, rising from the table to throw her trash away. 
On the other side of the room, you’re startled as lips press to your temple, hands placed on your shoulders.
“Causing trouble again, are you bubba?” Lucy plops down in the seat to your left, Keira occupying Alexia’s old seat to your right. You can’t help smiling again as your parents settle at your sides, they were a bit late to lunch as they were talking with Jona.
“No more than usual Robert, I wonder where I got it from. You think I need to go see the physios? Excessive childishness in a 15 year old is fatal from what I’ve heard.” You teased the older woman, who in response pushed her fingers between your ribs, the feeling way more ticklish than it should be.
“Leave the tot alone Luce, she’s got enough on her mind without you annoying her.” Keira says as she wraps her arm around your neck, pulling you into a headlock of sorts as she kisses your forehead over and over. 
“No way, I mean I can accept bubs and bubba, but tot? I’m fifteen.” It was almost like a toddler whining after its favourite toy, all tied together by the way your feet pound against the floor in protest.
“Mhm, sure. You’ll have to deal with every embarrassing nickname in the book until you take your last breath, bubs. Now, have you eaten enough? You know that we’ve got another training session after this.” Lucy reminds you hastily, pushing a granola bar into your hands as Keira hands you an apple.
“Yes I’ve eaten, no you two won’t be calling me ‘tot’ and ‘bubba’ when I’m 60, and yes I did in fact know that we’ve got training after lunch. Also, can I go over to Vicky’s after training? I need help with some homework.” You’re nearly through the doors of the meal room as you shout out the question, both Lucy and Keira nodding their heads in agreement.
Thinking no one’s watching you in the hallways is your fatal mistake, as you dance around in your spot you can hear the very distinct giggles from your usual partners in crime. Your eyes scan the space and in milliseconds you notice the short frames of Pina and Patri, the latter of the two holding up her phone in such a manner that convinced you that she was recording you.
“Having fun there osito?” Patri asks teasingly, as if you didn’t have plenty of incriminating videos of her doing things she definitely shouldn’t have been doing. The only response you give her is starting to run towards her at an alarming speed, the two women looking at each other in panic. 
Making the smart choice, they split up so that only one unfortunate soul had to deal with you, the one being Pina since she was easier for you to tackle to the ground if that was to be needed. She was also handed Patri’s phone when they were running, a sneaky attempt to keep the video.
“Come on, Osito, let’s not do anything drastic here.” Of course she was trying to negotiate when she was backed up against the wall, a nervous smile overtaking her face. “We’re amigos, remember?” When your eyes narrow, she knows she’s in trouble. Just as the shorter girl is about to try her chances at running away again, two stable hands land on your shoulders.
Pina nearly cries tears of joy as she sees Ingrid staring back at her, the norwegian’s arm now clasped tightly around your shoulders as she tries to pull you away from the short spaniard. But when you look back at her, thumb running across your own throat in a not so nice gesture, she begins to sweat again. 
It was no secret that you had dirt on her and Patri.
When Ingrid notices your obscene gesture she makes sure to slap the back of your head extra hard, obviously disapproving. 
“Why does everyone keep doing that?”
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“Narla’s blue now, looks like a smurf bit her.” You tell Lucy who sits opposite of you at the kitchen table, Keira cooking dinner not too far away. Lucy’s head snaps up from where it was turned down to look at her phone.
“What are you talking about? Are you kidding me?” Her accent is way thicker than normal, clouding her words more than usual. Your perfected poker face was always useful, but especially in situations like this, it was extremely difficult not to burst out into laughter at her expression. 
“Yeah I am. Why would she be blue?” The first part is said fully deadpanned, it is only when you ask her why that you allow the laughter to seep through into your voice. 
Lucy’s chair falls to the floor as she stands up, hands placed on the table like she’s about to do a speech. Instead what she does is walk around to your side of the table, tackling you to the floor like it’s no problem.
The two of you wrestle on the floor like schoolboys for a few moments until Keira calls out for you both, the woman already seeming fed up with whatever’s going on.
“Kids, dinner is ready, go set the table.” She tells you, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips looking at you two in disappointment. Though most of it was channeled towards Lucy, she was supposed to be an adult after all.
The brit in question unlocks her strong arms from your midsection as you release her head from your grip, Lucy rushing to stand up.
“Careful now Luce, or I’ll get my pay back in the ring.” You hold your hands up in front of your face in the typical boxer stance, punching them out in a pattern. Right, right, left, right, left, left. At the same time you’re moving your feet against the floor rapidly, kicking them out whilst still keeping them against the floor.
“Calm it Sugar Ray.” She calls out from the kitchen, between the sounds of plates clacking together and utensils clinging. 
“Actually I was going for more of an Ali vibe.” You respond, fighting the smile willing itself onto your face. 
“Actually, Keira said ‘kids’ meaning both of us, so come here and help me.” Keira laughs at the playful shake of your head as you pass her by, her hands stretching up to mess your hair up even more. Dodging her hand as you slip into the kitchen has you triumphant, putting your hands up in celebration like Rocky.
It’s short lived though as Keira comes up behind you to complete her earlier action. You grumble in fake annoyance as you bring out the plates and place them on the table, sitting down in your seat with an overexaggerated  angry expression on your face.
It all washes away though as Keira pinched your cheek lovingly, a genuine smile coating your lips. Dinner was spent in pleasant conversation, spent like a family.
—------
“Jorge Vilda: father to be.” Exclamations of disgust, shock and pure hatred ring out through the Barcelona locker room, some even pausing in the middle of getting dressed to look at you. You yourself were staring down at your phone pretending to read an article. “The former Spain coach announced the pregnancy on his instagram earlier this morning.” 
“What the actual fuck?” Mapi finally gets out after nearly a minute of choking sounds, her face contorted into an expression of disgust.
“This has to be some kind of joke, Satan can’t have children.” Patri adds on, looking slightly green. You’d be more concerned about it if it weren’t for the facepaint you and Pina had applied onto her when she fell asleep first at the sleepover the night before. 
“Of course she’s joking, there’s no article.” Irene takes your phone from your hands, showing the girls in the room what you actually were doing. “She’s playing 2048, we don’t have to worry.” Relieved sighs cling out throughout the room before they realize what you did, multiple hands coming down to slap your head again.
“Stop the abuse, did any of you actually think any woman would get within ten meters of that man? I wouldn’t even if I got a million euros.” Most of the women in the room shake their heads in amusement, though agreeing with you.
“You have got to stop doing that osito.” Mapi laughs out, knuckles digging into your head affectionately.
“I’ll stop when you all stop messing with my hair.” You grumble, smoothing your hair down against your now hurting head, Mapi’s knuckles leaving bruises.
—------
“Luis Rubiales dead at 46 due to unknown caus-” You were cut off in the middle of reading the title of the ‘article’, some of the women in the room jumping up to stand on their chairs, others cheering loudly.
"Hallelujah!” Was heard from multiple people, others settling on just dancing in their spots like they’d won the lottery.
Trying to slip out of the room to avoid having to tell them it was a prank and ruining the joy, you were quickly pulled back by a suspicious Alexia Putellas, her glare so intense that you were shying back from looking at her. 
“Stop the celebrations, cariño was just pranking us again.” Even though Alexia tried to be the stern and serious captain, she couldn’t help the smile stretching across her face at the prank. She could admit when a prank was funny and the fact that everyone believed you, knowing full well that you’d done the exact same thing only weeks before made it that much more hilarious.
“Come onnnnnn, I thought we talked about not doing this bubs.” Lucy calls out to you sternly, but you knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t really mad at you, both her and Keira had amused half smiles on their faces.
“Okay, okay I promise that was the last time. Besides, I don’t think any reaction will ever top the one you just gave me.” 
The women in the room looked at each other and then back at you, seemingly deciding that the best course of action would be to smother you with their hugs and kisses. It was impossible to get away from the mob, the ones closest to you covering your face in platonic kisses, the rest just looked on in amusement, waiting for their own turn to torture you.
And even though it took about 10 minutes to get all the women off you, and back to your parents, you wouldn’t do anything to change them ever. You loved them all, even if they messed up your hair daily.
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Translation:
Osito - teddy/teddy bear
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funnyoldworld-isnt-it · 6 months
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There are so many posts about the weirdness around Nina and Maggie, but the thing that has always bothered me the most is that both of them know Aziraphale but neither one of them seems to know Crowley. Like, at ALL. Not even by sight. Which doesn’t make any sense. For the last four years, Crowley has basically been unemployed and homeless (this sentence made me so sad to type). He has had literally NOTHING to do except hang out at Aziraphale’s bookshop. And the vibe at the beginning of s2 is that he’s there a LOT. Like, multiple times per week (“we both get plenty of use out of it, don’t we”). When Aziraphale calls him in the first episode, he says “2 minutes” the way you tell your spouse how long until you’re home from the grocery store, especially if you were on your way home already.
The dialogue goes to great lengths to highlight that Nina and Maggie SHOULD know Crowley, which just heightens the weirdness of it. When they're at the pub, Crowley asks Aziraphale, “What’s wrong with the cafe?” (implying they usually go to the cafe), but Aziraphale made a point of introducing Crowley to Nina in the first episode. And Nina makes a point of saying to Maggie that she always remembers “the regulars," but she doesn't seem to remember Crowley. Of course, she immediately notices both Jim and Muriel outside the bookshop, so she's clearly paying attention to what's happening in the neighborhood and it seems like she couldn't have failed to spot him coming and going all the time.
And Maggie's situation is even weirder. Her whole back story is that she basically grew up IN the bookshop because her grandmother’s record store was essentially in a corner of the bookshop. And yet, when Maggie and Nina see Crowley on the street right before the lightning strike, Nina says, “Do you see that bloke? Six shots of espresso and he's smoking,” and Maggie responds, “I think that man was just struck by lightning.” Which is something you say about someone you’ve never laid eyes on before. She didn’t say, “Oh, that’s Mr. Fell’s friend,” or “I’ve seen him around. He stops by Mr. Fell’s shop a lot.” And then when he comes back, "It's him. The one who was just struck by lightning. The six shots of espresso." Again, no flash of recognition of anything before the current day. This happens immediately after she's just told Nina about knowing Aziraphale since she was little. It’s just weird. Why build a back story that would put her in extremely close proximity to Crowley LITERALLY her entire life and then write dialogue that makes it clear she's never laid eyes on him before?
You could maybe think, well they're just so used to having to hide...but then I asked myself: Does it make sense that the day that you find out there is an extremely dangerous, existence-threatening problem hiding out in your ineffable husband's bookshop is also the day that you would decide to STOP keeping a low profile and start wandering the streets with abandon, introducing yourself to all the local shopkeepers, and ferrying large plants into and out of said bookshop? No. No, it does not.
In any other show, you could assume that the writers just didn’t think about it very carefully. But, given the layers and layers of meaning and symbolism baked into every detail of this show, from the dialogue, to the costuming, the set design, lighting, blocking, etc., and the way that the story folds back on itself again and again, it just feels significant.
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guide to get organized and create habits in your life
maybe you think that with your current pace of life, all those things you have to do in the day, it is impossible to create a healthier lifestyle, that's only for people who have money or a lot of free time and it is not so, the key is in the organization and planning of your days, but more importantly: that you really want to level up.
steps to start.
eliminate your beliefs, "it's not possible", "it's not a realistic lifestyle", "it's not possible", or "it's not a realistic lifestyle". if you really want to improve there are no excuses, the only limits are created by you.
what are your goals? what do you want to achieve with all this? the most important thing is to have a healthy lifestyle, but besides that, it may bring you closer to future goals or become your best version to achieve what you want, whatever it is, with bad habits you can not succeed.
plan your days and get organized, you don't need much for this, you can get a weekly planner or write the night before in a to-do list what you have to do the next day, create a routine from that, incorporate into your days those new habits, you always have 30 minutes or 1 hour for exercise, for example, everything is a matter of organizing yourself, but remove the thought of "i don't have time".
create your own lifestyle, you can be inspired by what you see in social media but may not fit you or what you want to achieve, it is easier than it seems, you just have to be clear about what you would like and from there start with new habits or activities, just think: what would make the best version of myself?
start now, do not wait for tomorrow, start organizing how your day will be tomorrow, what things would you like to try, start with 5 minutes of yoga? read that book that you have postponed for a long time? do it and little by little create a routine. for example, you can start by going for a walk for 30 minutes 3 days a week, reading a book at least 15 minutes before bedtime, changing the convenience food for a healthier option and so with everything.
and enjoy the process, not the result, the important thing is to be happy with our life and lead a healthy pace, not the result we want to get, that will come but meanwhile, it is important to enjoy the small improvements that we are incorporating in our day to day.
small habits that you should incorporate into your new lifestyle.
drink plenty of water during the day
create good sleep schedules (you don't have to get up early, but get enough sleep to have energy the next day)
replace junk food for healthier options.
do any kind of exercise every day.
read things that nourish your mind.
limited time on social media, only consume that which is positive.
stop talking bad about others and yourself.
be aware of your health and self-worth.
meditate before waking up and before sleeping.
write a diary or keep a record of your days, so you can also motivate yourself and see your progress.
whatever makes you happy and is beneficial to you.
having a healthy lifestyle always has to be beneficial for you, you don't have to follow to the letter other people's routines or my recommendations, you don't have to force yourself to do things you don't like, just find what you enjoy and it will benefit you in the future, but always focus on you and what is best for you 🤍
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obae-me · 1 year
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Random Sibling Headcanons
I'm a wee bit sick, which is why I've put my more serious projects on a very short pause. That being said I still feel the need to write something, so why not get some ideas out in the form of little fun ideas? Featuring colored names this time because it's fun for my brain.
These are just some little headcanons I like to think the brothers have done, since I love thinking of their sibling/ at-home relationships with each other.
In the picture of Lucifer's office, he seems to have stairs heading up to a second-story loft of some sort. I've always imagined he has a "Pride" wall somewhere up there filled with memorabilia of his brother's greatest or proudest achievements. There's some photos, art pieces, awards his siblings gave up on keeping, etc. His brothers know about it but hate it, so they all never speak of it.
Mammon and Levi once both badly injured their hands, trying to outdo each other high-fiving. You know where you try to get that perfect smack and hurt the other person's palm? Yeah, like that. They whiffed it on the first try and had to do it again and just couldn't stop after that.
Belphie usually puts small portions of his dirty clothes into his brother's hampers so they can clean his clothes for him without them realizing. It drives them all wild having to sort it out each time, and Belphie thrives off of it.
One of Satan's favorite pranks was to quickly run around the whole house and use up every hot water source he can while Lucifer was taking a shower so his water turns ice cold while the eldest is still in it. It got to the point where Lucifer is actually fine taking cold showers now.
If a bunch of them are in the same room and one of them gets a call from Lucifer, the others will suddenly try to sound like something horrible is going on, more often than not trying to incriminate the person who picked up the phone, blaming them for some false scenario that never happened.
If Belphie gets woken up too many times in the same day, he'll find ways to wake his siblings up in the middle of the night. Once he managed to get into all their phones and set annoyingly loud alarms, another night he cursed the piano in the music room to play until morning. Now the brothers have an unspoken rule not to wake their youngest sibling up more than four times a day.
Asmo likes to barge into his siblings' rooms sometimes unannounced with his D.D.D. while he's live on Devilgram or Deviltube. He loves to catch his brother's doing something stupid, it's hilarious. Sometimes he's not even live, he's just recording so he can keep videos to laugh over later.
They trade chores often, much to Lucifer's frustration, but everyone has some chores they absolutely can't stand. They've even somehow come up with a bartering system of sorts. Laundry = 1 other chore like dusting, but something like Dishes = 2 chores like taking on laundry and vacuuming.
None of them have ever missed one of Beel's games. They always show up and sit in the same spots so Beel never has to look around for them in the crowd. Lucifer brings the bag of supplies and snacks should his siblings need it. Because they always end up complaining about something by the end of the night. Mammon always brings his megaphone that almost always gets in him trouble every time. Levi gives his brothers all glowsticks. Satan always secretly has tricks up his sleeve to use against the opposing team should any of them come close to harming Beel (although that's nearly impossible, but he has them as a precaution). Asmo made everyone the most beautiful signs to hold. And Belphie brings everyone blankets since it can get chilly in the stands. He also brings a big lunchbox of snacks for Beel to eat right after the game even though they always go out to eat right after.
Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi as the three eldest are used to giving their younger siblings things they no longer need. The younger four have plenty of hand-me-downs but more often then not, they don't really mind. Lucifer gives out anything he's not overtly a fan of which can be anything from books to cologne to jewelry. Everyone has a few old things of his. Mammon gives out a bunch of clothes quite frequently. Despite his greed, his room can only hold so much, and so he usually goes through a semi-regular purge. Anything his brothers don't grab he sells. Levi gives out old electronics since he upgrades to the newest stuff as soon as he can. Because of this, Satan owns a pair of cat-ear headphones.
On a trip to the human world once, Asmo bought Belphie one of those electronic toothbrushes that play a song in your head while you brush your teeth so the youngest no longer falls asleep during brushing. Yes, it was a Brittany Spears one. (Does this date me? Maybe. Do they even make those anymore?)
Mammon and Asmo have both sat Beel down and tried to give him a basic course on recognizing flirting to keep their younger brother from being so totally oblivious, but no matter how many times they try, he never notices. However, now if Beel is ever given a random phone number, he knows to take it to either of those two to sort it out for him.
Once, for Belphie's birthday he received the ugliest quilt made from little squares from his brother's t-shirts, pillowcases, robes, etc. They all worked together to sew it up and it's very, very obvious who did what parts. Belphie says he can't stand the awful thing but sleeps with it every night.
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yelena-bellova · 8 months
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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart
Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents
A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!
—————
Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?
Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?
Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!
Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.
Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.
There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.
She’d ignored every single one.
She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.
True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.
In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…
“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.
Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.
Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.
They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.
Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.
Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.
Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”
“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”
If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.
“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.
Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”
“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.
“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.
“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”
Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”
“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”
“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”
Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.
She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.
Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.
—————————
Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.
She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.
Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”
“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”
Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.
But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.
He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.
“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”
Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.
“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.
“Help with what?” Y/n asked.
Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”
Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”
“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”
“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”
Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.
Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“
“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”
Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.
“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”
Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.
“He’s quite handsome.”
Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.
Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”
“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.
Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”
Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“
Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”
“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“
“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”
Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.
“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”
Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.
She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.
Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.
—————————
Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.
Man City versus Richmond.
Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.
She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.
Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.
She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”
Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”
“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”
“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”
“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”
“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.
Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.
The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.
A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.
Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.
“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”
“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”
“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”
The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”
Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.
“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”
“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”
Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?
Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.
“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”
The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“
“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”
Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.
Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.
“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.
Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”
She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-
“Hey, Y/n!”
She stopped in her tracks, so close…
Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.
“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”
In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.
“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.
Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.
She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.
—————————
Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.
Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.
The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”
“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”
“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”
Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”
“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“
“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”
While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.
“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”
“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“
Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.
“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”
After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.
“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”
Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.
—————————
At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.
From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.
After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.
“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.
“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”
Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”
Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.
“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.
Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”
Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?
Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.
You’ve Got Mail.
She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.
For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.
After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.
“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“
A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.
“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.
She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.
“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.
“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“
Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.
“Keeley, what-“
“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.
Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.
“No.”
“Y/n-“ Keeley began.
“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”
“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”
Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”
Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.
The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.
Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.
They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.
“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.
“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”
Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”
“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”
“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”
“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.
“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”
“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.
“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.
“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.
“OI!”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.
“Fucking hell!”
“What the fuck?!”
Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.
“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”
Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.
Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.
They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.
Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”
Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.
Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.
They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.
“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”
Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”
“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.
“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”
Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.
Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.
Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”
While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.
They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.
“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”
“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”
“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.
Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”
“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.
Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.
“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”
A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”
Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.
“Hello, Mommy.”
Y/n’s eyes widened.
Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”
“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”
“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.
“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.
“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.
“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”
Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.
“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”
Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.
“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”
Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.
Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.
“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.
Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.
She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.
Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.
“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”
Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.
“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”
Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”
Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”
“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.
Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.
“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.
Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.
“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”
“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”
Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.
“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.
“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.
Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.
Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”
“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.
The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-
“Fucking hell.”
Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.
“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”
Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.
An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”
As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.
“Fucking hell,” she grunted.
“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”
Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”
“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.
“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.
“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”
Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”
Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.
“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”
“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”
Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”
“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”
Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.
Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.
“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”
“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”
“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”
Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”
“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”
If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.
“They’re okay with it,” she answered.
“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”
“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”
Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”
“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”
Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.
The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.
She was speechless.
“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”
“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”
The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.
“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”
“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”
“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”
Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”
Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.
Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.
Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.
“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.
“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.
Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.
“Hey.”
Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.
“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.
“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.
For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.
“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”
Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.
In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.
But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.
This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.
“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”
Y/n cries began to shake her chest.
“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”
A single cry escaped Y/n.
“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.
“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”
Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.
Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.
For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.
Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.
“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”
Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”
“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”
“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”
Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”
“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”
“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”
Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.
“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“
She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.
In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.
Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”
Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.
“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.
Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.
He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.
“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.
Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.
Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.
With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.
Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.
Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.
Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.
Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.
“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.
Jamie nodded.
“Does she feel the same?”
There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.
“No.”
——————
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miracleonice87 · 9 months
Text
new heights, new news, new baby
part of the kissing kelce universe
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a/n: I've come to the conclusion that I will never be organized enough to make this a well-planned, thought-out, sequential series, so I've decided I'm just gonna post things hella outta order and then reorganize them into a chronological masterlist. deal? deal. 🤝 enjoy more daddy-to-be trav and, introducing, supportive uncle jason. takes place the day travis leaves for chiefs training camp.
warnings: mention of pregnancy / babies, mention of anxiety / sadness / loneliness, plenty of crying both happy and sad teras, swearing, I think that's it
word count: ~4,400+
___
July 22, 2023
“Now, before we get into our training camp preview and talk about some expectations for the season, Travis, you had a little something you wanted to say to the good folks at home?” Jason prompted, teeing up his brother on this week’s New Heights episode – the last they’d record before they both left for their respective camps. 
Travis nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “A little something, indeed, my brother,” he teased. “We have an announcement today, y’all! Alright nah!”
“Some new news, one might say!” Jason added, referencing the beloved segment of their podcast. 
“NEW NEWS!” Travis shouted excitedly. “Yo, can I get a drumroll please?”
Jason immediately started rolling his tongue, pretending like he had drumsticks in his hand. Travis continued, speaking over the sound. 
“This is like, the biggest announcement of my whole entire life. There were points where I never thought I’d be sharing news like this. It’s so crazy that I even get to do this right now. Gah dang. But, uh, anyway, I know we joke around here a lot, but this is a big one, folks, and I-”
Jason interrupted his brother’s emotional rambling, as well as his own sound effects. “Get to the point, please, my mouth is getting tired!” Jason picked his drumroll back up seamlessly as Travis giggled like a schoolboy. 
“Alright, y’all… here we go,” Travis said, rubbing his hands together mischievously. “Mrs. Kelce, would you please come over here, sweetness?” he requested, his voice syrupy smooth as he extended a hand, inviting you into the camera shot. 
Instead of crouching to put your face into frame as you normally would for your occasional brief pop-ins to the podcast, you stood next to Travis’s chair so that only your middle was showing, your stance perpendicular to the camera so the now-round profile of your belly was clearly visible. Jason gasped as if he hadn’t already known the news for months. You rested a hand on the top of your stomach, making it unmistakable what you and Travis were announcing, and he reached his own hand out to palm your bump, which at this point he could still easily do thanks to his impossibly big hands.
He held your free hand in his, beaming up at you, then looked back to the camera. 
“We’re havin’ a baby, y’all!” he shouted, before letting out a “wooooo-eee!”
On the other end of the Zoom, Jason was clapping and whooping excitedly, matching his brother’s energy. 
Travis then patted his lap, inviting you to sit down to, one, get you off your feet and, two, make it so your face was also visible in frame. 
“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, folks!” you heard Jason boom theatrically as you put on the AirPods Max that Travis had set aside for you ahead of the recording. “Wyatt and Elliotte have been asking every day since they found out what a ‘cousin’ was when they were gonna get one, asking why Uncle Travvy and Auntie don’t have babies like me and mommy, telling them they can take Bennett home with them if they wanted…”
Travis cackled, throwing his head back. “That is a true statement,” he said as he held your hips firmly. 
“1000%, can confirm,” you added, wrapping your own hands around your husband’s. He squeezed your fingers a few times, and you threw him an adoring smile over your shoulder as his brother continued. 
“And we all know Mama Kelce has been hoping for this for years now. So this is obviously something the whole extended Kelce family has been anticipating for a long time, and it’s finally here, and we couldn’t be happier for you guys,” Jason said, tone more serious now. 
“Aww, thank you, my brother,” Travis said fondly, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. 
“Yeah, thank you, Jase, so much. We’re so excited to finally give the girls a cousin!” you said. 
“Now, tell us how this happened,” Jason began. 
Travis cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Jason, when two people love each other very much-”
The older brother rolled his eyes and interrupted. 
“You know what I mean!” he insisted. “Just tell the people however much you wanna tell ‘em.” 
Travis looked to you as if silently asking for permission, and you simply gestured toward the camera. 
“Go ahead, Trav,” you said, a jesting tone to your voice. “I know it’s something you’re very proud of, so please share with the class.”
With that, Travis turned back toward the camera and waggled his eyebrows, getting as close to the mic as possible. 
“Well, folks… we made us a Super Bowl baby,” he said dramatically before letting out his signature cackle. You simply deadpanned to the camera, Jim Halpert-style, and shrugged.
Jason nodded emphatically. “You suuure did,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You knew I was having a kid right after the Super Bowl and you wanted to jump on the train.” 
You and Travis exchanged a devilish glance.
“Yeah, something like that,” you joked, knowing that jumping on Jason and Kylie’s train by conceiving a baby mere days before she gave birth to their third was certainly not your original plan. “I mean, what better Super Bowl souvenir could you ask for than a baby?!” you said wryly, causing Travis to look into the camera haughtily. 
“A Lombardi, a ring, and a kid,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “Alright nah,” he repeated, far too pleased with himself. 
“That’s awesome,” Jason said, still smiling. “Now, how are you feeling? I know it was a tough road there at first.” 
You nodded, and you felt Travis’s hold on your waist tighten protectively, maybe even subconsciously. “Yeah, I was pretty sick there for a few months, couldn’t get ‘out of the house’ a whole lot, much to this podcast’s dismay, but thankfully, that mostly passed when my first trimester ended,” you explained. “We don’t wanna necessarily share our exact due date, but I’ll say I’m well into my second trimester now and I’m feeling good. I’ve gotten to enjoy not only just the relief of feeling better but also the excitement of sharing this with friends and family – obviously, Mama and Papa Kelce, you and Kylie, all my family, and we just started telling the team, too, which has been really fun.” 
“Aww, that’s the best,” Jason remarked. “What was Big Red’s reaction?”
Travis piped up at the mention of his head coach. “Uh, to no one’s surprise, he looked me dead in the eye with the most serious fucking look on his face and said, ‘surprised it took ya this long, son,’” he revealed in his best Andy Reid voice, making you shake your head in amusement. 
“Yep, nope, does not surprise me one bit,” Jason said, giggling. “And what about your boy Mahomes?”
“Aw, man, Pat was so pumped up, and Brittany, too,” Travis replied. “Pat just started runnin’ laps around his kitchen yellin’ ‘let’s go! let’s fucking go!’ He ‘bout knocked me over!” 
“Yeah, those two have tagged us with babysitting duty on the regular for a couple years now, ever since Sterling was born, hoping that we would catch that baby fever and give her a playmate,” you added, laughing as you looked down at Travis. “I can’t say that’s necessarily what happened, but, um, either way, Sterling and Bronze will have another little team buddy to play with here soon which will be so fun to see. Brittany and Patrick have both been so great for both of us, just letting us know kind of what to expect, things that you might not learn in all the books or from your parents who did this a few decades ago. Especially with us all being on the same team, even just getting the lowdown on the logistical stuff, those two are just the best. They’re super excited for us which is just a really great feeling.” 
“No doubt – I’ve got a feeling this will bring you guys even closer,” Jason mused.
“Absolutely – already has,” Travis said. “So, yeah! That’s the big ‘New News’ for today, everybody. We’ve been keeping this on the DL for quite some time, and we just wanted to be able to share this ourselves in the way we choose, because obviously with camp starting tomorrow and the season just right around the corner, cameras might catch some footage of Mrs. Kelce visiting camp, in the stands, whatever, and we didn’t want people to be weird, so… y’all heard it here first!”
“Damn straight,” Jason asserted. “And just one more thing… I wanted to say, before our mom-to-be hops off here. I, uh… aw, fuck, I swore to Kylie I wasn’t gonna cry,” he said, sniffling as he fixed his eyes toward the ceiling, blinking repeatedly. 
“Aww, Jase!” you murmured as you watched him tear up. 
“I’m good, I’m good,” he assured, still sniffling as he continued. In the corner of the screen, you could see your husband beginning to well up, too, and you caressed his thigh soothingly as he sat in poignant silence. “I just wanted to say that when Travis told us the news, that was truly the happiest I have ever seen my brother – and this dude has been drafted to the NFL, he’s been a Pro Bowler, All-Pro, broken so many records, won two Super Bowls. But by far, the happiest and most excited I’ve ever seen this guy is telling us that you’re having a baby. And as his big brother, that just makes me so fuckin’ proud.” 
You and Travis were both pawing at fallen tears by now, and Travis could only manage a quiet “thank you.” You patted his knee and, after a deep breath, shared your own thoughts. 
“Thank you, Jase, and while we’re making each other cry–” both brothers chuckled at that, “–I’ll say that I know Travis is going to be the best dad, not only because of the incredible man and husband that already he is, and the way you both were raised by your own amazing parents, but also because of the example you have set for him, Jason, by being such an awesome dad to your three girls.” You paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, and Travis rubbed your back to calm you. Jason was nodding, tears streaking his face. “So thank you for that, and for all your love and support through everything, and Kylie’s, too. You guys are gonna be the greatest aunt and uncle this kid could ever ask for, and Travis and I can’t wait to watch that.” 
Travis let out a whistle, cheeks, nose, and eyes pink from crying. “Uh, I will never make it through this episode if I add anything more to that, so I will just say, here here, baby girl,” he offered with a laugh. “We love you, brother.” 
“I love you guys, too,” Jason said as he finally regained his composure. “Whew! Yeah, how the fuck are we supposed to keep recording after all that?! Can we just be done? I am emotionally exhausted. I need a nap.” 
As Travis giggled boyishly, you agreed, “I do, too, so I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Thanks for having me, guys; thanks for giving me a baby, Trav; and good luck at camp, Jase. We’ll talk soon.” 
Travis tapped the outside of your thigh pointedly, his frequent way of silently requesting a kiss. You grasped his chin to peck his lips as Jason thanked you and said a final goodbye. 
“Have a good nap, mama,” Travis cooed as you took off your headphones and returned them to their original spot. “Daddy’ll be up as soon as we’re done,” he added playfully.
You laughed and rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood up and exited the frame. 
“Oh, Jesus, he’s already calling himself ‘Daddy,’” Jason complained with a weary sigh.
___
Normally, after wrapping an episode, Travis would bound up the stairs and infuse your home with all the leftover energy he had built up during the podcast recording with his brother. One of your favorite things about him co-hosting the podcast, in addition to loving the scheduled opportunity it created for him to connect with his brother, was how buoyant of a mood he was always in after a recording.
But today, the feeling that settled over your household when he wrapped the episode about an hour after your surprise guest appearance was much less chipper.
Today, Travis trudged upstairs to do the one thing he’d been dreading all summer – say his goodbyes to you before leaving for training camp. Though camp at Missouri Western State University was only about an hour from your home in the outskirts of Kansas City, he wouldn’t be home again for five days; instead, he’d be staying on campus with the team and bunking in a dorm. Normally, departing for camp and knowing he’d be spending days on end with his teammates focusing on making themselves better football players excited him, save for a hint of sadness about being away from you, but this particular camp, having to leave his five months pregnant wife at home, he was not looking forward to by any stretch of the imagination. 
When Travis pushed open the basement door, he found you lounging on the couch with your back to him, legs outstretched on the plush cushions as you cradled your bump, some version of the Housewives franchise playing on the TV in front of you. You tipped your head back onto the arm of the couch in order to see him and asked, “how’d it go?” 
He took advantage of your position to rest his thumbs on your cheekbones and give you an upside-down “Spider-Man kiss.” 
“Went great,” he answered curtly, a vastly different response than the pumped-up recap you normally received. “That was the easy part of today,” he added, gazing down at you with his brow furrowed. Even upside-down, he was struck by your captivating beauty, which only tightened the lump already forming in his throat. 
Did he really have to fucking do this?
You groaned, drowning in your own feelings of dread, and sat up, signaling the dogs at your feet to follow your lead. You reached out your hands in order to allow Travis to help you up from the couch and gave him your bravest face as he did so. 
“I’ll walk you out,” you said, feigning confidence. But the crack in your voice when you added “can’t have you showing up late” revealed the crack in your armor, and you watched Travis’s chin drop to his chest, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he forced himself to take one… step… at a time closer to the front door. 
One foot in front of the other, Travis.
You led the way, fluttering your eyelashes repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. The dogs circled your feet as you attempted to walk out the front door, and Travis, fearing a fall, whistled and called them back into the house, patting both their heads as he passed.
When the two of you reached Travis’s Range Rover, already packed with all he needed for camp – duffels full of clothes and shoes, an array of video game consoles, deck of cards and set of pong balls for the inevitable team drinking games, and all his favorite snacks, along with a secret handwritten note you’d tucked into his toiletry kit in order to surprise him upon his unpacking – you stood a couple of feet apart, quiet, your husband shuffling his feet beneath him as you shifted your weight uncomfortably from side to side. You gazed up at him helplessly, a rigid, lips-only smile fixed on your face, and he took this moment for yet another reveal, sifting through his shorts pockets to find what he’d grabbed on the way out the door.
“I know this sucks, sweetness, but… I do have a surprise for you…” He dangled a set of keys in front of you which you noticed were not his. 
“New car?” you teased halfheartedly, recognizing the worn key fob to your Porsche after a moment. 
“Mm, not quite, we got a baby on the way, ya know? Gotta save that coin,” Travis teased right back. “I think it’s better than a new car.” 
You raised your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly. He let it marinate in your brain for a few more moments, finally breaking when you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your baby bump to his torso, and whined his name. He beamed. 
“Alright, alright, you know that’s gonna work every time now,” he admitted, giggling. He caressed your jaw with his knuckles and you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re sad because I’m leavin’, but you gotta get on the road, too… because you gotta go pick up your mama from the airport.” 
You gasped, covering your mouth with both hands. 
“Really?” you whispered after a stunned pause. 
“Really,” he confirmed, nodding. 
You’d only seen your mom once since finding out you were having a baby, and Travis had noticed that your pregnancy had you feeling more homesick than usual. Especially with so many of the Chiefs better halves, who would best understand this phase of your life, having scattered for the offseason, and with Travis’s own mom and sister-in-law living halfway across the country, he felt awful that you didn’t have your mom nearby during this exciting, but unsettling, time. Knowing, too, that you always struggled being apart from him in those first few days of training camp, he had preemptively arranged for his mother-in-law to arrive in Kansas City just as he departed for St. Joseph, hoping that that would alleviate at least some of your loneliness at this delicate time when you were already feeling unusually vulnerable. 
Travis melted when you threw your arms around him again, this time desperately, not jokingly. He rubbed your back, beaming when he heard you whimper, “thank you.”
“Of course, sweetness,” he replied warmly, burying a kiss in your hair. “Anything to keep baby mama happy.”
You giggled, resting your chin on his sternum and tipping your head up to look at him. 
“Yeah, you’re pretty good at that,” you praised, fondness thick in your tone as you rested a hand against his neck. “When does she land?” 
Travis glanced at his watch. “Just over an hour,” he informed you. “So don’t rush. You got plenty of time.” A proud smile slowly stretched across his face as he added, “I got a lot of fun stuff planned for y’all this week.”
Your eyebrows lifted, your excitement building by the minute, and Travis watched your face light up with each word as he continued. 
“You guys are gonna do a spa day tomorrow, got you a suite at the Royals game the next night, then you’re gonna come see me at camp, obviously, because I wanna see Mama, too. And then you’re gonna go run around and do your registry for your baby shower, because she knows all the stuff we’re gonna need, and weeee… do not,” he admitted, laughing. 
The corners of your mouth pulled down as your face contorted, eyes welling with tears, and Travis could see that you were overwhelmed with emotion, humming a laugh as he guided the side of your head to rest against his chest. 
“And that’s why I waited to tell you – because I knew you’d cry every other hour ‘til she got here,” he told you, only half joking, as he hugged you tight.
A giggle bubbled forth from your lips. “You were right, like always,” you said, voice tight, so appreciative of how well this man knew and cared for you. “You’re so thoughtful, Trav, thank you so much.” 
“I mean it when I say literally an-y-thing for you,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. And after a deep sigh, he regretfully mumbled, “And now I gotta go.” 
You pushed away from him slowly, your left hand lingering on his broad chest as he looked down at you with what had to be the saddest expression you’d ever seen him wear. He gathered your hand in his and pressed a lengthy kiss to your wedding rings, then the skin around them. 
“Go be great,” you whispered, smoothing your other hand over his stubbly cheek.
Travis’s eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, committing the feeling of your touch to his memory. With a final squeeze of your fingers, he forced himself to back away and open his driver’s side door. 
As he climbed into the seat, he pointed at you and said firmly, “You and that baby stay safe while I’m gone, alright?” 
You nodded weakly, trailing a hand from the top of your bump to the underside. “We’ll do our best, Daddy,” you promised as he shut his door, the window rolled down. 
At that, Travis’s eyes filled with tears – he had known it was only a matter of time until it would hit him, leaving you for the first time for more than a day since you’d found out you were expecting. And seeing you, hand on your belly, standing in the driveway alone as he started his car and prepared to pull away for the better part of a week… yeah, that did it. 
He blew out a controlled breath through pursed lips, putting every ounce of his will into putting the car in drive and coasting toward the front gate to leave. 
He could see your lower lip quivering even from afar, and it sent a zing of anxiety through his entire being — though he’d never enjoyed saying goodbye, he’d never once felt anxious leaving you for camp. Until today.
“I love you, Mama,” he called out the window, inching slowly toward the gate. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
You nodded. “Okay,” came out in a croak. “I love you, too.” 
“Be good,” he forced out. 
You nodded again, but didn’t trust your voice to allow you to respond with words. You simply waved one last goodbye as he did the same, forcing a signature Travis Kelce smile and wink while simultaneously trying to keep his shit together in front of you.
But as he passed through the gate and down the drive, watching you shrink into the rearview mirror and finally disappear as he turned toward the freeway, his breath caught in his throat and he broke down, tears blurring his vision as he pressed ahead down the familiar route. For a minute or two, he simply let the sobs wrack his body as he swiped at the ever-flowing tears with the back of his hand, letting out the occasional frustrated growl, usually saved for a missed ball in the end zone. As he attempted to calm himself down, he glanced at the recent calls list on his car’s hands-free device.
And, moments later, in suburban Philadelphia… 
Jason hadn’t been off Zoom for more than twenty minutes when his phone rang with a call from his kid brother. Smirking knowingly at the screen, he situated five-month-old baby Bennett in her bouncy seat and tapped the green button.
“Figured I might be hearing from ya,” Jason answered the call.
Sniffling and confused, Travis blinked a few times. 
“You did?”
Jason let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you just said goodbye to her and now you’re, what, three miles down the road to camp?” 
Travis was quiet and rubbed a heavy hand over his face. 
“Five, but… yeah,” Travis mumbled.
Jason hummed as if impressed, gazing at his oldest two daughters who he swore just yesterday could barely hold their own heads up and were now talking animatedly amongst themselves as they dressed and posed Barbie dolls in their prized pink Dreamhouse. “Well, then, you made it two miles further than I did before I called Mom my first training camp when Kylie was pregnant with Wy, so, props.”
“Really?” Travis inquired.
“Hell yeah, dude. It’s the worst fuckin’ feeling,” Jason responded, the sensation still visceral. “Leaving your wife and unborn baby to go live in a dorm with a bunch of sweaty dudes… it goes against every instinct in your body.” 
“Yeah, for real… And I used to love camp, too,” Travis sighed. “I just feel so guilty, man.” 
“I know. But you’re doing it to provide a sick ass life for her and that baby — you’re making sure they’re set for life,” Jason reminded him. “You just gotta focus on that as best you can.” 
The smallest of smiles pulled at Travis’s lips. “That what Mom said to you?”
“Of course — you think I came up with that on my own?” 
Travis giggled at that — the way only a big brother could make you do, even in the midst of misery. 
“It’s gonna be okay, Trav. I promise you,” Jason told him firmly. “You did the right thing flying her mom in; she knows who to call in the off-chance something does go wrong; and… uh… and she knows she’s got our support because she’s calling Kylie right now,” Jason finished, handing his wife’s phone to her as she approached the coffee table where she’d heard it ringing. 
“Is she really?” Travis asked, both relieved and more upset knowing that you, too, were seeking comfort from his brother’s experience with Kylie. 
Jason and Kylie shared a sympathetic glance before she answered your call, and as he walked down the hall out of her earshot to allow you both privacy, Jason replied, “Sure is. And as you know, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to lean on right now. This isn’t easy by any means, but we’re here for you guys. So are Mom and Dad, Brittany and Pat, so many others. Remember, this is day one — it does get easier from here.”
Travis trilled his lips as he exhaled, his body already relaxing thanks to his brother’s encouraging words. 
“As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a great point,” Travis conceded. “Thank you, bro. I appreciate you more than you know.”
“Anytime, Trav. Always in your corner. Love you, brother. I’ll check in when I’m back at camp too.”
“I’ll hold you to it. Love you, Jase. Bye.”
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transmutationisms · 2 months
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could you talk more on eds and biopolitics?
sure, so this is broad strokes and it's also worth reiterating that the energy deficit characteristic of EDs can have a lot of different causes besides intentional food restriction—food insecurity is a huge and underrecognised factor here but there are many others. so when i talk about intentional restriction and the desire to be thin / lose weight, i'm not suggesting these are universal characteristics or causes of EDs.
anyway though, in the context of discussing these things, and particularly the relationship between 'diet culture' and EDs, a perennial frustration to me is that i often hear people fall back on the idea that the desire to be thin comes about as a result of the beauty standards perpetuated in mass media, fashion adverts, &c, without any subsequent interrogation of why it is that beauty itself is now so heavily dependent on thinness. after all, plenty of people have pointed out this is not a universal; beauty varies in different times and places, what is described or depicted as beautiful in historical records doesn't necessarily have much overlap with today's hegemonic standards, and so forth.
so when historicising this phenomenon it becomes very clear that the euro/anglo standard of thinness as beauty is, one, part of the ideological apparatus justifying colonialism thru the creation of race and white supremacy. sabrina strings and da'shaun harrison have written on this. two, the thin ideal is also inextricably tied up in medical discourses defining the ideal body as one that is economically productive, with the promise being that if the populace can be transformed into 'healthy',*** useful, hardworking citizens, the state benefits. control of bodyweight is therefore certainly a means of demonstrating one's supposed self-control, moral discipline, &c, but it is also a demand expressed in medical terms: these two discourses merge and overlap, and are both part of the capitalist state's transformation of its citizenry into a biological resource that can be controlled, managed, and exploited to bourgeois ends (profit): hence, biopolitics.
(***the story of how 'health' itself comes to be so dependent on thinness is obviously a critical piece of all this but this post is long as shit already so suffice it to say that this conflation is also not obvious, necessary, universal, &c &c)
medico-political discourses in the 19th century tended to talk about the dangers of both over- and under-weight more than what we hear now; similarly, if you think about something like wilbur atwater's calorie-value charts, these were explicitly intended to guide labourers to the most calorie-dense foods, because to atwater the central danger to be avoided was starvation among the workforce. these days in wealthy countries like the us, you are much more likely to hear about weight management in the context of demands to reduce; this is of course following moves like the WHO declaring an 'obesity epidemic' in 1997, and the rise in the usa of more explicitly nationalist, militaristic weight-loss rhetoric in the post-9/11 era.
however, my position is that these demands for thinness, and the beauty standard that follows and justifies them, are not a departure from earlier 19th- and 20th-century scientific nutrition advice, just an evolution that, for a multitude of reasons (politics, medical professional interests, insurance company practices, &c) has simply come to focus more on the ostensible economic and national threat posed by fatness. the underlying logic bears the biopolitical throughline: the state has, or ought to have, an interest in enforcing the health of its population, and as part of this demands that you the individual surveil and alter your weight according to the scientific guidelines du jour.
this is fertile ground for the development of what, in extreme form, we regard as ED pathology. first, because even the most purely 'health'-motivated individual engaging in the required degree of bodily monitoring and caloric restriction is liable to respond to energy deficit in ways that can become diagnosably distressing. second, because the morals of 'health' are never far from standards of beauty; thinness is sold in overtly profitable ways (the diet and weight-loss industries) and furthermore, our idea of beauty is often a kind of post hoc justification for the thinness already being demanded by state and medical authorities. which is really just to say, beauty is part of the ideological superstructure both resulting from and invoked as a justification for the material conditions of capitalist biopolitics. again this is very broad strokes, but imo it is a much more useful framework to understand EDs than simply presenting them as a result of desiring thinness because it is glorified in The Media, because... reasons (essentially the rené girard model, lol).
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You know what? I have become a gaylor sympathiser
This is going to be a long post, sorry! Please read the full post before even thinking about commenting.
Over the past few days I’ve seen a few posts on my dash about taylor swift and her fans that have left a bad taste in my mouth.
I know that a lot of people think that some fans of her are “trying to make her gay” and I just wanted to put the record straight and defend some people after actually looking at what’s going on. And I know I’m probably opening myself up for tumblr’s poor reading comprehension but before I start I’m going to say this:
I do not think taylor swift is a lesbian
Ok? Now let’s have a conversation.
First of all from what I’ve seen most of the fans who talk about Taylor swift and queerness do it from a point of literary analysis and learning queer history. This is a huge part of the community and lots of people have said that they never would have learnt so much about queer history without reading taylor swift’s works through a queer lens.
Adding on to that point, it seems a little hypocritical for the gay site which loves queer readings of books, tv shows, songs, musicals, films etc to be bullying a pretty small group of people who are mainly doing queer readings of lyrics. Especially when those people get near constant death threats. Instead of bullying these people (who don’t think or do what you think they think and do) why don’t you go outside and think “does this affect me? No. Do I agree with them? No. Am I going to cyber bully them because of this? No.”
Secondly, for the people who believe that any speculation on a real persons sexuality is 100% wrong. I used to think this too but I have changed my mind a bit about this recently after stopping and thinking about it properly. I’m not trying to change your mind at all I just want you to stop and think for a minute.
If you only get mad when speculation is queer in nature, then maybe think about that for a minute. Why is it totally wrong to think a person might be queer. We probably do it in our daily lives with people we know and they likely do it with us, back in the day that’s how queer people found each other-by speculating on sexuality. Would you be upset if you found out someone that you know thought you might be queer? I wouldn’t, maybe you would but if you would, why? Why is it terrible to think someone might be queer (this is NOT about hounding a person to admit to being queer like shawn mendes, this is just thinking in your head and on your small blog that the person will likely never see). Also this is literally the website where we talk about historical (real people) being gay even when they would have never said something to the equivalent.
An addition to this point before people start saying in the comments is that this is NOT the same situation as with kit connor. The issue there was people assuming that he was straight and taking that role away from a queer person. Speculating that he was queer was the opposite of what happened in that situation. So this is not an example of what happens when you speculate queerness.
Final things to say:
1) don’t believe every post you see with someone looking insane about taylor swift being gay, a lot of them are fake.
2) before anyone says “they should listen to real queer artists instead” most of them very much do. There’s a lot of fans of Hayley kiyoko, girl in red, Janelle monae, tegan and sara, zolita, kehlani etc.
3) there are some queer flags that are there. Sorry but there are. Hairpin drops, lavender, the ladder, flag colours, songs about women, friend of dorothy reference. Whether they are intentional is a different matter.
4) shipping real people is not what is happening for the majority of the people in the community. Also this comes back to queer vs straight again. Plenty of swifties ship taylor with men she’s been seen with and no one goes into their inboxes and sends death threats even when they are the ones making taylor swift all about the men she may or may not have dated.
5) taylor swift has never stated her sexuality. I know this may be hard to belive based off of how some people act, but it’s true. She has made vague statements which could have many meanings but she has never clearly stated anything. When gaylors get upset with taylor it is not because she said she is straight, it’s because they are getting death threats and doxxed and she seems to either be unaware of it (which is unlikely given how she seems to be a little terminally online) or she doesn’t care enough to tell her fans to stop.
6) if she does explicitly say she’s straight then there will probably be disappointment in her use of queer history and flags and her potential queer erasure (as we saw with lavender haze, with straight women describing their relationships as lavender) and centring herself in queer spaces (like the you need to calm down music video) but no one will be angry that she’s not gay. And a lot will probably be grateful that she actually explicitly stated for the record to absolve any confusion. The main issue would likely be other fans ramping up the death threats and bullying.
In conclusion: these people who do queer analysis of Taylor’s work are not trying to out her or make her gay etc. if you don’t understand it that’s fine it’s clearly not for you and you can go quite easily without seeing any of it. It’s not illegal to read works through a queer lens and if it means more people know about queer history then I think that’s a very good thing.
I changed my mind after looking at what a lot of people are actually saying rather than what people perceive them to be saying and maybe you will too?
Just be kinder to people online please and if you don’t like what people are saying block them and do not engage!
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cruelfeline · 1 year
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So, for all of y'all who aren't familiar with Dwarf Fortress, I'm going to explain why it's such a phenomenal game.
Dwarf Fortress is a colony simulator that's been developed by two brothers since 2003. A few weeks ago, it finally released on Steam with a UI that even i can understand. It is the grandfather of things like Rimworld and Minecraft.
So what makes it different from all of the other games in the genre? What makes it different is that it simulates a world beyond your colony. A world with gods, monsters, civilizations... a whole history outside of your colony. A real, living world for you to play in.
I can better explain this by showing y'all what happened to my latest fortress. The one that experienced Wereanteater Armageddon.
My dwarves were having a nice time. I'd just figured out how to build instruments and was outfitting the new tavern properly when-
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Surprise! Wereanteater.
Said wereanteater eventually turned back into a goblin and ran off-map, but not before infecting some of my dwarves. Which led to... well...
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Absolute massacres every month. With more wereanteaters each time. Which eventually led to...
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One lone dwarf, haunted by the ghost of one of the many slain, sitting next to the werecorpse of his last companion. They'd fought to the death the moment they'd last transformed, and he was the survivor. But, of course, he couldn't move.
So! That was that. Fortress destroyed, time to move on. I abandoned the fortress and decided to start anew.
But! Where did our wereanteater come from? What was his story?
In Dwarf Fortress, everything has a story.
So before starting a new fortress, I went ahead and checked the Legends mode: the mode that has the whole history of everyone and everything written out for the player to read.
First, I found my fortress' record, and I scanned down to where the deaths began.
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There we go... the attack started with a goblin named Azstrog Terrorhymed. Who is that? Why does he turn into a monstrous anteater?
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Here he is, in his entry, biting my dwarf. And... actually beating her to death with Sensedterror Explained, which another entry says is a book he wrote. About some sort of horror-pit he had a nightmare about. Huh.
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And looking further back, we can see that, about twenty five years before he came to my fortress, he profaned the Abbey of Shafts in a settlement called Gearedopened. Possibly due to having some bad experiences with gambling and false friendships. This resulted in someone called Ngalak cursing him to become a wereanteater every full moon. And who is Ngalak?
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Ngalak is apparently a dwarven god associated with caverns and mountains. And also:
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Azstrog wasn't the only creature he's cursed with wereform for profanity! There are at least two others potentially running around. So that's... comforting.
And as for Azstrog? His entry says that he settled in the Fair Mines after dooming my fortress. Checking that entry, we find it to be a lair. A lair that now contains a wereanteater. A wereanteater who was once a goblin who seemed down on his luck and, in a moment of forgetting himself, ended up the object of divine wrath. Which in turn led to the violent deaths of about fifty dwarves in the fortress of Knowring twenty five years later!
This is why Dwarf Fortress is so amazing! There are plenty of games that will introduce an obstacle for your characters to face, but how many will ensure that that obstacle had a whole life of his own prior to ever meeting you?
On second thought, I think I'll reclaim Knowring, rather than starting a new fortress. And I'll bury its many dead, take over its workshops, and see if I can find the Fair Mines.
See if I can find Azstrog Terrorhymed again. See if he's still alive, or if he's met his end one way or another.
But first: time to build dozens of tombs!
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