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#i'm actually doing okay and i know i should give myself credit for that like i'm in such a good place with my ed right now
roosterforme · 1 year
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The Younger Kind Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As a single dad trying to start dating again, Bradley feels like he's constantly running in circles. Hiring a twenty-four year old student to babysit should have made things easier, but no matter how hard he fights it, you're too irresistible to stay away from. 
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)
Length: 3300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
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Bradley cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against the bar. He hated being interrogated like this. He knew it was coming eventually, but he really wasn't expecting it today.
"You need a babysitter?" Nat asked with vivid interest. "Who are you going on a date with?"
He groaned. "What makes you think I need a babysitter so I can go on a date? Maybe I just need a couple hours to myself."
Nat rolled her eyes. "Because when you need an hour or two to yourself, you always ask me if I can come over and stay with Noah. And I always oblige, because I am the best person you know. So this must be something else. Who is it?"
"Rebel asked me out," Bradley murmured, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye.
"Rebel! She's only been at Top Gun for a week!" Nat said, eyes wide as she examined his face. "She literally arrived from Lemoore seven days ago, and she already made a move on you? Damn, some of these pilots are quick."
"She just asked me out for coffee. I only said yes, because you keep telling me I should start dating again!"
"Well, you should start dating again. But I figured you'd download an app, find some cute women and get your rocks off. Not go on a date with a coworker!" Nat said, exasperated. 
Bradley just gaped at her as Penny dropped off two more beers. "I haven't done this in a while. Forgive me for not knowing precisely what you intended for me to do here, Nat," he said with a massive eye roll. 
She turned her nose up at him. "You're forgiven. But you need to give me your phone," she said, holding out her hand. 
"For what?" he asked skeptically.
"Just gimme."
Bradley handed it to her and she entered his passcode from memory. "Just don't order anything on my Amazon account, okay? I like my Hawaiian shirts just fine, and I donated all the shit you charged to my credit card last time."
"I'm not ordering you new clothes," she scoffed, tapping away on his screen. "I'm solving all your problems. Now look at me and smile."
Bradley glared at her instead as she snapped a few photos. "These look terrible," she mumbled under her breath as she switched to her own phone. "I have one where you look halfway decent... oh, here it is."
Then she was back on his phone again, and he just gave up trying to understand half of what she did when she wasn't in the air with him.
"Nat, I just don't know that I'll ever get serious with anyone again. Meredith kind of ruined that for me."
Nat was scrolling along on his phone as she said, "Meredith was a flaming asshat. I never liked her. The best thing she ever did was get pregnant with Noah and then dump you."
Bradley was back to cradling his head in his hand. He did not like thinking about the fact that his ex bailed on him and their son when he was just a few months old. It made him feel sick. And now he was partening alone, which was harder than anything he had ever done. 
"Shit," Bradley said, checking his watch. "I need to pick Noah up from daycare. Give me my phone," he said before finishing the last sip of his beer.
"I'm not done yet," Nat mumbled, a frightening grin creeping across her face. "Just one more minute."
Bradley thought about texting Rebel and canceling their tentative coffee date. Nat was probably right about dating another aviator. He didn't even know her actual first name, and she only ever called Bradley Rooster. What the hell kind of weird date would that be like? Talking Super Hornet specs? Comparing tales of punching out and parachute deployments?
He listened to a rapid string of alerts from his phone. "Is someone texting me?" he asked, reaching for his phone. "That's a lot of alerts. Is it Noah's daycare?"
But Nat was holding his phone tight and grinning. "Not texts. Women. Women who think you are cute and like your dating profile."
His eyes went wide. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. 
"Got you about ten dates if you want them. You're welcome," she said, handing his phone back to him. 
He scrolled through all of the profiles on his screen. "What am I looking at exactly?"
"Well, here's your profile. I used the only decent photos of you in existence. And that's your bio."
Bradley squinted at the screen. "All it says is that I'm 36, a naval aviator, and I like working out. And I have golden retriever energy? What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you're energetic. They'll take that to mean in the bedroom."
"Jesus, Nat. Shouldn't I disclose important things? Like the fact that I'm a dad?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. That's second date material. They are going to want to size you up and see if you're a daddy before they need to know that you're a dad."
He shoved his phone in his pocket as he stood. "I don't have time for this," he grunted, pulling out his wallet and waving at Penny. "If I don't find a babysitter, none of this is going to make any difference anyway."
Penny took his credit card and then paused. "You need a babysitter for Noah? Mav and I can watch him if you need a break, you know that, right?"
Bradley sighed. "Thanks Pen. Yeah, I know that. I'm just looking for something a little more regular. Gonna try dating again," he said, glaring at Nat out of the corner of his eye. 
"I might know someone who would be interested," Penny said, handing the card back to Bradley. "She's a student in her early twenties, I guess. Really smart and seems sweet. Noah would probably like her. She's in classes during the day, but she was looking to babysit at night."
"How do you know her?" Bradley asked, already hesitant to leave his kid alone with a stranger. 
"She's renting a house on my street. I ran into her a few times, and we got to talking. She fed Luna, watered my plants, and got the mail when I took Amelia sailing."
Nat placed her hand on his arm. "I know this is a big step, but you could meet her first before you offer her the job."
Bradley stroked his mustache. "Any chance she would come over and meet me and Noah? So I can make sure she's not creepy?" he asked Penny.
Penny just laughed. "She's not creepy. How about I give her your number if she says she's interested in watching Noah."
"Sounds good," Bradley replied quickly, barely listening to Penny now. "I need to go pick him up. Bye, Nat."
"Don't forget to swipe through all your matches!" she called after him. 
He just waved and made his way to his Bronco. Bradley always felt like he was running all over the place. As much as it bothered him to take Noah to daycare on a Saturday, he felt like he was losing his grip on his life. His friends rarely ever remembered to invite him to the Hard Deck, correctly assuming he wouldn't be able to go. But it would still be nice to be invited. 
Everything felt impossible on his own. He wasn't getting enough sleep. As soon as Noah went to bed, it was a race to try to get every chore finished. Then he had to wake up an hour earlier to insure he had time to get Noah ready and dropped off at daycare on time. Every day was a damn marathon, and he really wished he could get some help.
He would never ever admit it to Nat, but he was lonely. Just the idea of getting to spend an evening eating dinner with a woman practically had him popping a boner. Having the chance to get to know someone again, get to have sex again? He couldn't think about it too long. He'd been spending so much time with his right hand and his imagination. 
As he pulled into the daycare parking lot, he sighed. This was the reason he had forfeited dating. His son. His adorable, perfect son. 
"Ready to go?" he asked, and Noach climbed up into his arms. 
"Yep, daddy," he said, and Bradley carried him out after thanking the daycare staff. 
"Let's get home and eat dinner," Bradley said, pushing Noah's dark curls away from his forehead and kissing him.
And this was the reason Bradley would only ever consider dating someone who liked kids and didn't mind dating a single dad. In spite of the daycare schedule, and the exhaustion and loneliness, Noah was his top priority. 
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You were just getting back from class and unloading your books from your car when you saw Penny waving to you from her mailbox. As soon as you waved awkwardly with your arms full, she was heading your way.
"Hey, Penny," you said as she walked up your driveway.
"I wanted to chat for a minute. Is it a bad time?" she asked, eyeing up everything in your arms.
You nodded toward the house. "Come inside so I can set everything down."
She followed you in, already going on about someone named Bradley. "He's sweet, and he has an adorable three year old son named Noah. They are looking for a reliable sitter, and I know you mentioned an interest."
"Oh," you replied, dumping everything onto your couch. "This Bradley guy? He's not creepy or anything, right?"
Penny laughed. "He asked the same about you. He's very hesitant to let a stranger watch Noah, but I told him I'd give you his number if you wanted to contact him. Maybe you could just go meet them one day. He's not creepy. He works with Pete. And I swear Noah is irresistable."
You sighed. You really needed some extra income. And you loved kids. And you'd probably be able to study after Noah went to bed for the night. As long as this Bradley wasn't giving off weird vibes, you'd probably want the job.
"Okay, I'll take his number," you said, and soon you were adding Bradley Bradshaw to your contacts. "Thanks, Penny. Hopefully this will work out."
You got lost in your research for the rest of the day on Saturday, and purposely avoided returning texts from Greyson. He only wanted to see you when you were too busy, and he never wanted to see you when you had time for him.
"He's being a douchebag," you whispered as you scrolled through the idiotic things he was sending you. 
Then you opened a new conversation and typed out a draft to this Bradley guy.
Hi, I got your number from Penny Benjamin. She told me you're looking for a reliable babysitter. Any chance you have some free time so I can meet you and your son?
It was late, so you decided to let it sit in your drafts until the following morning. But apparently it wasn't too late for Greyson, who was now asking if you wanted him to send you a dick pic. 
You switched your phone to do not disturb mode after telling him that you would really appreciate it if he didn't send you one. Then you went to bed and dozed off fantasizing about dating a guy who acted like an adult. 
It was so late when you woke up, you decided to skip breakfast and just make yourself lunch. When you switched your phone back to receive messages, you were flooded with a bunch, mostly from Greyson. Luckily there was no dick pic to speak of, but he'd sent you a bunch of nonsense while he was probably drunk or high. 
Then you noticed the draft to Bradley Bradshaw, so you hit send on that one. You had a reply from him before you were even done making a sandwich.
Bradley Bradshaw: Yes, I am looking for a sitter for my son Noah. Penny highly recommended you. I can make time to meet you whenever you are free. Just to be clear, I want to make sure Noah and I are both comfortable around you before proceeding. 
You rolled your eyes. A grown adult man should not be as concerned about you as you should be about him. But, you could see where he was coming from about the prospect of letting a stranger stay with his son. So you replied and started eating your sandwich.
I could stop by this evening to meet you both if you're free.
He wrote back quickly again.
Bradley Bradshaw: That would be great. Anytime after 4. I'll attach my address.
If this guy was creepy or if his son was weird, Penny was going to be hearing about it for the rest of the year.
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Bradley was just cooking dinner while Noah sat in his high chair coloring, when he heard his doorbell ring. "That might be your potential babysitter, bub," Bradley told him, kissing the top of his head as he grabbed a dish towel and headed for the front door while drying his hands.
But Bradley almost dropped the towel when he opened the door and got a look at you. As your wide eyes drifted up his body and landed on his face, you smiled up at him. 
"Mr. Bradshaw?"
You were stunning. Beautiful, and so fucking young. He swallowed against the saliva pooling in his mouth. Oh shit. 
"Uh, yeah. Hi," he managed, moving out of the doorway so you could step past him and into the living room. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem," you said with a shrug. "I'm looking forward to meeting Noah." You brushed past Bradley, and he closed his eyes. Your lip gloss was distractingly shiny. You smelled like beach grass or wildflowers. You looked like you were barely old enough to drink. 
"He's in the kitchen," Bradley rasped, trying to pull himself together. "Back this way."
You followed Bradley through the house, and as soon as you saw his son sitting in the high chair, you went right to him.
"Hey, Noah! What are you coloring?"
"Dinosaurs," Noah told you, holding out a pink crayon. 
"Cool. I love pink dinosaurs," you replied, starting to color a pterodactyl on the page next to the one he was working on.
"Me too. I like pink and blue dinosaurs the best," he replied. 
Bradley watched you interacting with Noah. You seemed sweet, coloring each dinosaur the color he requested. When Noah mispronounced your name, you just laughed and told him he could call you that. 
When you bent down to retrieve a yellow crayon as it rolled across the floor, Bradley got an excellent view of the backs of your bare thighs as your sundress rode up. He dropped the spatula into the pan, nearly burning himself. He was also nearly burning his dinner.
"Shit," he mumbled as you turned to smile at him before handing the crayon back to Noah. 
"What else do you like to do? Besides color?" you asked. 
Noah started telling you all about drawing with chalk and playing with bubbles outside. "I like snacks and movies. And hiking."
Bradley laughed. "By hiking he means walking around the block if I make it home from work before it's dark out."
"Oh," you said. "I can take you on a hike one day, Noah. I like hiking around the block, too. Maybe we can collect some things like rocks and leaves." 
Bradley listened to Noah tell you about some particularly good rocks he had found last week, and you somehow responded in just the right way.
"You're in the navy?" you eventually asked Bradley, shrugging out of your denim jacket in the hot kitchen, giving Bradley a view of even more of your flawless skin. "Like Pete?"
He cleared his throat, mixing everything in the pan on the stove. "Yeah, I work with him. I'm an aviator."
"Do you want me to call you by your rank? Instead of Mr. Bradshaw?" 
Bradley had to press his lips together, a little scared to know what hearing you call him Lieutenant Bradshaw would do to him. "You can just call me Bradley."
"Okay, Bradley," you said, and unfortunately that did something to him too. "You've got a cute kid. I think Noah and I could have a lot of fun together."
"How old are you?" The words were out of Bradley's mouth before he could rethink them. He almost sounded accusatory, but really he needed to know how bad it was that he couldn't stop looking at your legs.
"Twenty-four," you replied casually. 
Jesus. He was twelve years older than you. But you looked even younger than that. Sweet. Too innocent. 
"I'm in grad school for nursing," you continued. "I'm certified in CPR, and I can treat injuries. I know how to swim. I'm free every day starting at 4. You can run a background check on me if you want to."
Noah looked up at you and asked if you wanted to build blocks with him, and Bradley knew he already felt comfortable enough to leave his son with you while he went on a date with Rebel. 
He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hadn't taken the time to figure out how to use the dating app that Nat installed, and he was being inundated with matches and messages. He also hadn't given Rebel, whose first name was Grace, a solid answer about when he could get coffee with her.
But for some reason, in spite of the laundry list of women from the app who were interested in going on a date with him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Bradley asked as you built a block tower with Noah on the high chair tray. 
"Oh, no. That's nice of you to ask, but I don't want to crash your meal," you told him over your shoulder. "Here, put this little block on the top. Let's see if we can make it stay," you told Noah, keeping your hands around the sides of the tower until he successfully set down the last piece. Then you tossed your hands into the air and cheered.
Noah turned and looked at you in surprise and you just laughed. "You're good at coloring and blocks?" He just giggled, and soon you were both knocking down the tower and starting over. 
As Bradley scraped his half burned dinner onto a plate, he felt a little disappointed that you were grabbing your jacket and getting ready to leave. Noah looked a little sad, too. 
"Well," Bradley told you, watching you gracefully shrug into your jacket, "you're hired if you think you can put up with the two of us."
You laughed and took a step closer to him. "Noah? He seems like an angel. You on the other hand?"
Bradley's eyes went wide, and you just laughed harder. 
"Only kidding! I'm sure I'll be able to put up with both of you if you think you can put up with me."
You were young and beautiful, and for some reason Bradley wanted to feed you dinner, even though the food he made looked barely edible. 
"I don't think that will be a problem."
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I hope you enjoy your Daddy Rooster and babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls !!
PART 2
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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.2
The thing is Paul just physically can't say what he feels. It's just an impossibility for him. So if he says reading a negative article about himself “doesn't help” or “it's not good” but it “doesn't get home” I just assume he means ‘It hurts, but I can't think about that too hard or I'll go into a self-hate suicidal spiral again’. 
I always love how Paul says Linda. “Linder is er, nature mad.” 
She!!
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Hearing Paul talk about watching Mary be born makes me wonder if John was there with Sean? Also I wonder if Linda would talk about the experience so glowingly. Probably. She's tough as nails. I had a lovely experience, personally, after the epidural lol
“Dear friend . . . I'm in love with a friend of mine.” This is such a strange and beautiful song. It's a man who has to apologize to his friend for falling in love with someone else. At least, that's my interpretation. What's everyone else's?
I understand why he's so closed off. I do. But when John is going off every five seconds, we're missing half the picture here and it's turning out warped. They really are such a good study of attachment honestly.
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“Nothing will ever break the love we have for each other.” White-knuckling my way through this section with this quote clenched in my fist.
Yoko, talking about John fighting with Paul: any couple will go from swearing to kissing and it's like that. What favors are you doing yourself here, babe? Maybe John's the PR mastermind between the two of them.
I find John's comparison of working with his romantic partner to being ambidextrous very confusing. Does he mean just doing two things at once?
“If I can't have a fight with my best friend, I don't know who I can have a fight with.” -- Intro slutty gender-fluid Wings Paul my beloved -- “Tell me why, why, why do you treat me so bad? So bad? When you're the best friend a man ever had?” I heard on some podcast somewhere. Someone was going on about how forward-thinking the Beatles were to refer to the women in their songs as “friends”. And I was like, nununununu do not give them that credit.
This is just soooo. In this era? 90 minutes in the middle of a recording session?
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John: Sorry, my estranged fiance is calling, gotta take a break. Guitarist: again? Drummer: how estranged can they be if they call every three minutes? Yoko: should we just record the other parts or . . . John: (receiver cradled to his cheek, lovesick grin on his face) Hey, how was Heather's school program? Haha, yeah, I bet she was.
Okay, so you've made up with Paul and now you're done being homophobic? *Cardi b voice* well that's suspicious. 
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The fact that John's asking Paul to play on stage with him in 1972?? Ugh! If it was just about legalities and money and shit I would be genuinely so pissed at Paul for not going. If only because Come Together sounds incredibly lame without his bass and piano. But also for the obvious fix-it reasons. I have to remind myself of how truly awful Klein was. By being the only one to stand firm against him, Paul actually ended up saving them all from a lot of trouble. But gosh would this have been good!
Things normal people say, for sure, for sure.
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Okay in my head it went like this. John calls George and bitches about what an egomaniac Paul is because he won't do anything with him as long as Klein is involved. George gets off the phone and calls Ringo and they make a bet as to how long it is until John decides they should get rid of Klein. 
“Where's your audience, Paul?” “In the theater, Dave.” As he should. The cuntiness is unparalleled. Yeah, maybe people like to see a family friendly eclectic magic pixie sexy hard rock floor show? Ever thought about that, Dave?
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Anyway, he seems genuinely pissed when the interviewer even mentions the other Beatles and he refuses to even admit he still talks to any of them. Why? 
John's just so benevolent and selfless. He's completely straight, of course, but he's always offering to do gay shit. You know. To be nice. 
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I forget that not only was May their literal employee, but she was ten years younger on top of that. And yet, she managed to do so much good in that relationship. I have so much respect for her. 
There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes that they don't say in interviews. Duh. But I wonder what it is that caused Paul to be so open and happy in this interview where he's asked about the other Beatles compared to before. I wonder if he and John had a really lovely talk, or if he's heard a demo of “I know, I know.” Or maybe it's just he's so reassured that they've got rid of Klein that he feels safe acting open to a reunion on record. Who knows, Yoko. 
So so smart to pair “In My Life” handwritten lyrics with the matching lyrics of “I know I know” playing at the same time. I forget about that connection (“I love you more”) because it's so overshadowed by the “than yesterday” right after. I seriously wonder if John thought he was being so obvious with this one the way he was with HDYS and half hoped people would ask him if it was about Paul and he could make up for the whole thing. Because it's just so heavy-handed. It's beautiful. I love it. I'm sure Paul loved it. But yeah. John's just beating us over the head with the references here. 
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I also wonder (very tentatively!!!) if Paul was maybe a bit more emotionally vulnerable with John than we usually think. I would never think this except for the “you know I nearly broke down and cried” “I'm sorry that I made you cry” and “no more crying!” I don't know. What do we think? 
His little baby smirk. It's so silly and cute. He's being very positive about getting back together, and the interviewer asks if John would initiate that. Just a very coy, “a, well, I couldn't say.” I wonder if at that point if he'd said on live tv that he wanted to get together again if it would've happened. Seems like it might have, but I understand him being scared. 
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Elton John taking pictures like a fan and John: I wanna impound all those photos till I get me green card. What a random idea for a commercial. I love it, obviously, it's hilarious. I wonder who thought of it. 
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This doc is so good at implication. The smirk as “loving in the palm of my hand” plays. That's not a reference to hand jobs, is it? Certainly not talking to someone with beautiful hands?
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Everyone go look up Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five on YouTube. The singing sex is something else, yeah, but I'm always so blown away by the piano part. The fact that he's self taught and doesn't read music and this man will go on to compose symphonies. 
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displ3azant · 12 days
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(Before cut is In-Character.)
Hiii! Helloooo!
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Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.
So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.
Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.
Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.
BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇
(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)
To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.
And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.
Blog-Context
So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...
I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!
MAIN TAGS:
#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks
#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar
#ooc - Out-of-character post
OTHER TAGS (to be updated):
(nothing yet, hehe)
Blog-Owner
So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!
I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.
Ask/RP-Boundaries
Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.
ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, I guess. Not exactly the direction I want to take things, though some storylines will involved implied ships. Don't push anything that isn't hinted at, and under no circumstances encourage proshipping or any kind of illegal pairing. If a ship is hinted toward that you personally do not like, then just block me and move on with your day.
Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.
Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,
PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!
That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe
Lots of love, - Hex
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synintheraven · 7 months
Text
Okay let's clear some things out; 1) I don't write smut bc I suck at it 2) this is part of a bigger story where the main character/reader gets to know Sihtric throughout several situations, so this is perfect if you want to read about Sihtric & reader's little made-up adventures but not so much if you're only here to read naughty stuff 😅 3) I have no idea what I'm doing :p
pic credits to myself, feel free to use them too/ask for originals (:
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✵pairing: sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader
✵summary/small introduction: reader (she/her) is a Norse, Sihtric is a (actual, as in born there) Dane. Sihtric & reader meet each other for the very first time, but I kept it simple and kinda short so you'll have to keep on reading to find out how this goes (; [Side note: Yggr is one of my ocs and the Jarl/Chief of the group, but will not be a current character other than to accompany/give orders to Sihtric and reader]
✵tw: mentions of violence
✵word count: 1,5k
characters info | part two
We were near; the tall cliffs once casting shadows over the sea were far behind us and the fog was getting thicker over the marshes. East Anglia was a land of fishermen huts, distant trees and bad weather: yet somewhere in this muddy land, a band of fiery fighters were hiding and getting ready to fight for their lord.
I recognized the stranded ship half covered in sand, which Yggr had described to me, surrounded by muddy rocks and a small spot of land untouched by the sea waters. Near the rocks, among tall reeds, the camp was set and a handful of men were sat around the bonfire in an attempt to fight the cold wind.
Except for one man.
A tall, dark haired man, covered in a fur cloak; his left hand was resting over the hilt of his sword as he stood near the coast, staring cautiously at our ship as if he was trying to tell who we were. But, as we approached the small island and the fog revealed Yggr’s wild hair, the mysterious man prepared to greet us.
The sail was taken down and the crew started to row against the current, sliding through the rather calm waves to take the ship towards the land. It didn’t take long for the prow to reach the sand and before we were fully beached, Yggr jumped off our ship to meet with the dark haired stranger.
He had a concerned expression and his hand remained over the hilt of his sword, ready to fight should the need arise. Yet, unlike him, Yggr was quick to smile and open his arms, embracing the now smirking Dane like a brother.
The man was Sihtric Kjartansson, a warrior that served the long haired blonde, though he treated him like a big stupid brother rather than as his lord and jarl. Both Danes had grew up together, sticking to each other as their parents seemed to care little next to nothing for the young boys, making it no surprise the concerned stranger was in command during the jarl’s absence.
I didn’t know much about him back then, only that he was a fine warrior and a loyal man; but I had also been told he was rather friendly and welcoming, yet Sihtric looked at me with wary eyes. I stared back at him, almost trying to decipher what was going on inside his mind: studying his gaze, the storm brewing inside his blue eye and the dancing flames around the pupil of his brown eye.
He had the face of a warrior, with scars running down from his forehead and marking the flesh over his deep cheekbones, making me wonder if he was hiding any other under the strands of hair over his temple or under the scarce beard around his rather full lips.
I had jumped on the wet sand of the island shortly after Yggr, however being the only woman among all those men, suddenly the warriors resting around the fire seemed eager to welcome our crew. Everyone but Sihtric, who embraced his lord for a while but pushed him away as his men came along with curious looks.
Unfortunately for everyone else, I was not to be touched or harmed: for I was there merely to help build the camp and eventually, should the strings of my destiny allow it, find the man that killed my family.
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The first birds of the day were singing their songs and the sun was setting, the land slowly revealing itself from the fog. It was a cold morning and it got worse as we had to get our feet wet in order to cross from shore to shore, but we were to stay unnoticed and therefore not to use our ship.
We were scouting the surrounding area, following the shore in hopes to find a bigger place to set a new camp. I was walking beside Yggr, with Sihtric a few paces before us to guide our way around; the rest of our group were either guarding our current camp or exploring other areas, though all of us were after the same goal.
The best hiding spots were among reeds, trees and muddy rocks, but those often surrounded water and the rising tides could be treacherous.
We saw stone ruins, abandoned churches and half burnt farms, all a consequence of folk escaping their homes in order to keep their lives, to escape the horrors brought by the monsters from across the sea.
Danes like us were plundering all of Britain; they came with the promise of riches and vengeance but stayed to become kings and killed anyone who opposed them. They had come here to do what that mad man had done to my family, my people.
 I trusted Yggr’s words when he said he didn’t care about a title. He lost his chance to be king and decided to embrace a simple life, only hoping to find a nice place to thrive and stay unbothered by Saxons. Or so it was until the Great Heathen Army decided to terrorize the country, turning our heads into targets for anyone who caught us, Danes and Norse alike, wandering around.
We had stopped, suddenly. We were standing atop a small hill that went deeper in land, hoping to get a better view; the wind was blowing hard and the sun shone upon the land, easily revealing all areas of the territory.
Yggr remained silent, his mind lost somewhere in the dark blue waters from the ocean as the cold wind blew on his hair and beard. Sihtric stood next to me, his eyes narrowed because of the sun while he pointed his finger towards the tall roman ruins to the north.
—That looks like a good spot. —He said to Yggr then quickly looked my way, noticing I was the only one truly listening to him. It was, probably, the very first time he wasn’t eyeing me as if expecting me to take a knife to their throats. —I saw it before, but rain soaked the mud. It will take some work to stop that from happening again.
He had a very calming voice and explained all the work that had to be done for that old ruin to be a proper camp, though in truth all I could think about was the scars on his face: suggesting the man had been in many battles, despite being only a few winters older than Halfdan’s son.
—You two can go. —The blonde man interrupted, resting a hand on mine and Sihtric’s shoulder. —Find some horses and secure the camp, I’ll go find the men and meet you there with the ship.
—Just the two of us? —Sihtric sighed, despite trying to hide his discomfort. —What if the place has been taken? I can’t fight them with, no offense, a woman. —He glanced at me for a split second then stared back at Yggr, hoping to be released of my company.
—I am Norse. And my father raised a warrior, not a weak girl that needs some Dane’s protection. —I snarled back, watching as my words damaged his pride and brought a wide smile to our Jarl.
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The only horses we could find belonged to a group of Danes camping in Theotford, a small town with thatched roofs and a run-down church that once sheltered Saxons.
There was about twenty of them, maybe more, standing watch in every corner and every small gap they could find.
—I am not “some Dane”, I’m a warrior too. —He finally added, remembering our earlier conversation.
—You’re the son of Kjartan, right? —I let out and he gave me a grim look then proceeded to avoid my glance, still walking between the tall grasses.
—We’re never going to make it out alive if we try to take one of their horses. There’s too many of them. —And he was right, those were trained warriors and we were merely a pair of lost dogs to them. —The ruins are not too far, we should get there before Yggr if we walk in a straight line and avoid following main roads.
And just like that, our short journey through the autumnal forests of East Anglia began. We walked through shrubs, trees, short walls made of stone and saw a few deer, but there was no sight of other people anywhere. We avoided getting too close to farms or church ruins, trying to remain silent whenever our surroundings were suspiciously quiet.
—So tell me, Dane, how did you end up in Norway? —I interrupted, getting a judging stare from him when he caught me walking closely by his side.
—He told you we should get to know each other, right? —He asked dismissively, moving a few steps ahead of me.
—He suggested we should get along if we’re to live together in the same camp, but you’re not as friendly as he promised.
A hint of a smirk showed on his face, though it didn’t last long. —My father sold information to Halfdan and left me in Alrekstad to either die or be raised by the king’s servants. —He admitted after a while, looking troubled as he spoke.
—There are worst destinies than to be raised with Yggr, I suppose. —I said and saw him grinning at my comment, finally showing some sort of emotion in my presence.
—What about you, Stavanger? —He taunted, making it obvious that our fool of a Jarl told him about my homeland and, therefore, my newly acquired nickname.
—That’s my homeland, yes. But I come from the Isle of Ikke, a once thriving city to the north of Stavanger.
—Then what brought you to Alrekstad?
—Vengeance. —I said cheerfully, but he gave me a concerned look in return.
Some bonus fun facts:
✯Yggr is the son of Halfdan, King of Alrekstad (modern Årstad, in Norway). He's not inspired by any TLK character, though he has a similar personality and looks to Ragnar The Younger, with some of Cnut's silly sense of humour. Yggr was to inherit his father's throne, but has no issue embracing a simpler life - even though his former position as a prince and charisma turned him into his Clan's Jarl (basically an english Earl, but a Jarl can also be someone trusted by its people and chosen as a chief).
✯Reader was born in a small island in Norway (Ikke, which is totally made up hehe) but her family was massacred when she was a baby, so she grew up seeking vengeance.
✯Sihtric isn't a bastard but his mother died giving birth to him and so Kjartan despises him/never properly treated him as his son (nor did he to Sven but he grew up to be just as his father and so Kjartan eventually accepted him as his son).
✯As this story is unrelated to what happens in TLK, I had Kjartan vanished from Denmark; though he became wealthy again by playing the pirate in other territories and selling information to kings as Halfdan, Harald Fairhair and few more across the sea...
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littlxpxtal · 16 days
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Therefore I Am
TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 3.7K
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Don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how I feel
Top of the world, but your world isn't real
Your world's an ideal
So, go have fun
I really couldn't care less
And you can give 'em my best, but just know
I'm not your friend or anything, damn
You think that you're the man
November
“Okay so I made this cute ass invite on this website and you can send it out as a text blast.” Sabrina explains to me as we walk to first period together. 
“Sab who are you planning on inviting?” I ask. She was keen on throwing me a huge blowout for my 18th. I had gotten better at making friends on Figure 8 but there was a pit of doubt inside me that anyone would actually show up.
“We have to invite everyone whos anyone. Adn they’ll forsure come cus we haven’t had a big rager since Halloween. Everyone is fiending for a party. And everyone is talking about how cool you are.” I roll my eyes at this last declaration.
“No they are not Sab what are you even talking about.” I ask before we walk into the classroom.
“You’ve really impressed everyone at all of my pregames, and even Rafe’s friend group thinks you’re cool. Everyones obsessed with your style, and are dying to know why you’ve spent the last three years wasting time on the cut.” she whispers as we take our seats.
“How do you even know Rafe’s friends like me?” I pull out my history book and homework, feeling my face flush at the thought of them talking about me.
“Just trust me I know.”
“You know, I’m inviting my friends from the cut.” I say with a straight face, dreading her response.
“Y/N … Why would you do that?” she asks, pulling out her supplies.
“Cus they’re my friends. If it’s my party I should be able to invite whoever I want.” I state matterof factly. 
“That may cause some problems.” she mumbles before the bell rings. “Im sending the text blast out at lunch. If there’s anyone you dont want there let me know, or else its going to my entire contacts list.” she hisses to me before the teacher starts taking attendance. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I adjust the strapless black mini dress on my chest, fidgeting with the zipper on the side before Sabrina walks into my room. 
“People are going to start coming in 10 are you ready yet?” she asks, holding a red solo cup out to me.
“Yea, just gotta put on my lipstick. Whats this?”
She smirks and walks over to my full length mirror.
“A concoction just for the birthday girl.” she teases, pulling out her phone to take a picture.
“Get in this with me.” she says. I pose in the mirror with her and take a small sip of the drink, practically choking.
“What the fuck is in this Sab?” I ask, stuggling to keep myself from yakking.
“My version of a tequila sunrise. Mostly tequila.” she says sweetly, taking a sip form her own cup.
“Yea I can tell.” The doorbell rings and my eyes widen.
“I’ll get it. Hurry up!” she exclaims, running out of my room. I take a deep breath and take the berry shade of lipstick I bought for tonight out and start applying in the mirror. I decide to take a selfie of myself, admiring the way the dress fit around my curves. 
Somehow Sabrina convinced my parents to let me have this party at my place and got them out of town for the weekend. They were easily convinced by her sweet talk, and were encouraged by the fact that I had been making friends at Kildare Academy. They were more than happy to give Sabrina and me their credit card to buy decorations and even allowed us to use some of the liquor from their cabinet. 
I made my way up the stairs to see the living room was starting to fill with familiar faces I had seen in the hallways. I admired my house filled with helium balloons and silver streamer curtains. The room was illuminated with a large disco ball and LED lights. The DJ started playing music in the backyard.
“I think we’re gonna have a big turn out.” Sabrina says when she finally reaches me.
“Do these people actually know what they’re even here for?”
“Of course they do. I even made a card box for people to give you gifts.”
“Sabrina, I don’t want any of these peoples money.” I say confused.
“These people come from old money its practically tradition. Plus theyre drinking the booze we bought so its like an entry fee.” she says giggling and grabbing my hand, leading me to the backyard.
“You got the playlist I sent right?” she asks the DJ. I recognized him immediately, he was a barista at the cafe I always went to when I used to hang in the cut. He smiles softly at me and I thank him for being here tonight. 
“There’s the birthday girl!” I hear someone shout from the backdoor. I turn around to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe a group of random girls surrounding them. He’s holding a handle of Titos up in the air.
“TOP!” Sabrina exclaims, dragging me over to greet them.
“Happy birthday Y/N” he says, greeting me in a hug. “This is for you, from all of us.” he says handing me the large bottle. I stare at in shock and laugh.
“Thanks guys.” I respond. Before I can greet Kelce or Rafe, Sabrina takes the bottle from my hands.
“Shots?” she asks the group. The guys cheer in response and she leads them back inside the the kitchen where the cups were.
“Happy birthday.” Rafe whispers in my ear, trailing right behind me. I feel goosebumps rise on my arms. “You look good.” he murmurs as we reach the counter.
“TO Y/N” Sabrina declares and we raise the shot glasses up to the cieling
“TO ME!” I Cheer before downing the shot. I hiss at the burning in my throat and squeeze my eyes closed. 
More people fill into my living room and start piling into the backyard. I’m greeted with hugs and fist bumps from people I vaguely remember, they thank me for inviting them and I have to pretend like I’m the one who even made the invite in the first place. 
I finally check my phone for the first time since people started arriving.
Sarah Cameron
We’re pulling up in a sec
I smile at my phone and scan the room to see if they’ve arrived.
“You waitin on someone?” I hear Rafe ask from behind me.
“Yea Sarah’s comin.” I say without looking back at him. 
“I assume that means the clowns will be making an appearance as well.” he asks, finally standing next to me, his arm brushing against my shoulder.
“Play nice it’s my birthday.” I remind him, taking a sip from my birthday concoction.
“Long as they play nice too.” he responds before walking off. I roll my eyes and scan the room again. They still weren’t anywhere in sight, so I walk off to mingle with my guests.
I find a familiar face in the sea of people and make my way to him.
“Hi Noah.” I say, interrupting his conversation with a girl I had never seen befroe.
“Hey Y/N . Happy birthday!” he says before pulling me into a hug. It lingers for a little too long and I feel my cheeks blush when he finally releases me. 
“This is a great party. Much better than my 18th.” he says, standing close and leaning down to be eye level with me.
“Whadid you do for yours?” I ask, trying to hide my disgust as I take another sip from the drink Sab made me.
“I had the flu. I had to go to the hospital and everything.” he says shurgging his shoulders.
“Damn that sounds awful. You can pretend tonights your birthday if you want.” I say, trying to cheer him up. I feel his eyes scan my body up and down and he inches closer.
“Well I know what I would want for my present.” he whispers. I bite my lip and giggle.
“Cute” I say in response. From the corner of my eye I spot JJ and I run towards him.
“JJ!” I shriek, throwing myself into his arms. He lifts me up and spins me around.
“Happy birthday doll. You have hella friends now huh?” he asks giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I dont know half of these people. Sabrina just invited them.” I say in response. He smirks and scans the room.
“Whos the dude who was practically eye fucking you?” he says, I glance over to see he’s giving a death glare to Noah.
“Kid I know from Kook academy.” I shrug.
“BIRTHDAY GIRL!” Kiara shouts, popping up from behind JJ.
“Kie!” I squeeze her with all my might. I feel a rush of excitement fill my body as people I actually knew and loved were finally here. John B and Pope pile into our hug.
“Where’s Sarah?” 
“She went looking for you. Looks like she ran into her brother though.” John B says, nudging his head over towards the back of the kitchen. I direct the group to follow me, leading them through the crowd of people stuffed into my living room. I trip over a ballon on the floor, and feel an arm reach out to help me gain my balance. I look up to see its Rafe.
“Thanks” I mumble, pulling my arm away from his grip. I direct my attention away from him and smile at Sarah
“Happy birthday girl! I heard Rafe got you a present and I think it’s only appropriate that we indulge.” she says, wiggling her eyebrows and holding up the half empty handle of titos up at me.
She fills up shots enough for everyone including Rafe. His body is blocking me from being in the circle, so I shove past him, forcing my way into the center. 
I look at Kiara and smirk, “arriba! abajo! al centro! pa dentro!” We cheer. The group finishes the shot and I find myself brave from the liquid courage I had just been given. I pull a chair out from behind the counter and stand on top of it.
“THANK YOU FOR COMING AND CELEBRATING MY 18TH WITH ME!” I Shout to the crowd of people in the kitchen and dining area. “LETS GET FUCKED UP!” I shout.
Pope hands me a Natty Lite from his book bag and I tip it to its side, cracking the bottom open with my teeth. For a second I realize my inner pogue is coming out. But I decide I didn’t give a fuck. It was my fucking birthday. 
I crack open the can and inhale the beer in 3 chugs. I crush the can with my hand and toss it out into the crowd. The room erupts in cheers and I turn around to my friends seeing their shocked yet excited expressions on their faces.
“Lets fucking dance.” I say. JJ walks up to the chair and puts out his arms.
“Lets go dance princess.” he says, pulling me down into his arms, placing me softly on the ground. I grab his hand,  leading them to the backyard where the DJ began blasting the Pursuit of Happiness remix. 
The backyard area is filled with people already dancing. I squish us into the center of the crowd and notice that Rafe and his friends decided to join. 
I feel my body moving along to the beat, not giving a care in the world, sticking my hands up in the air and letting the crowd's movements take me around the circle. Dancing face to face with Sarah, her back against John B’s.
Our bodies are squeezed together and I slowly grind against hers before I’m pushed to the side and end up in front of Kiara. She’s dancing against Pope and I remember I need to ask her how that situation is coming along. Before I can lean into ask, my body is moved again to be in the center of the circle.  I take a few steps back to the beat and spin around.
Losing my balance, I end up with my back pressed against a tall figure. His arms softly grab my hips. If I didn’t know any better I would assume it was JJ. But I look over to see him standing in between John B and Pope. I crane my neck to look and see its Rafe, with a slight smirk on his face. 
I decide to play along, turning my body to face his. His hands move furth up my back, running them up and down as I grind my body against his. I keep my eyes closed, refusing to make eye contact with him, trying to show that I would dance with literally anyone like this. I wrap my hands up around his neck and jump around to the beat before the song stops and there’s silence amongst the crowd. I drop my hands from his neck and whip my head towards the DJ, and see Sabrina standing up there with a lit up cake.
She grabs a microphone from the DJ and begins singing Happy Birthday to me. I feel my face get hot and body tense, realizing that everyone was staring at me, singing along in unison. My worst nightmare. She makes her way through the crowd, everyone making a path for her to reach me. 
When she finally does the song is almost over and I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Mainly becomes I’m so drunk and overwhelmed with anxiety from what was happening. 
“Make a wish!” I close my eyes and blow the candles out. The crowd erupts into a cheer and the DJ starts up a new song, everyone returning back to where they were before the serenading.
“I hate you.” I say, as we walk to the kitchen.
“Noooo you love me. And look at all these people here for YOU.” I give her side hug as she places the cake on the counter.
“Thanks for doing this for me.” I say. She turns to face me with a large grin spread across her face. “I’m glad we met.”
“Stop being sappy and go back out and dance.” she says, pushing me towards the back door.
“I have to pee first” I say, making my way towards the basement door. I make my way down the stairs to my room. After finishing my business I walk back into my room and see Rafe inspecting my bookshelf.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I ask, startled at his intrusion.
He doesn't respond, just glances over, eyeing my body up and down before picking a book off of the shelf. 
“You read a lot of fiction.” he states.
I walk over and grab the book out of his hand. 
“I asked you a question.” I place the book back in its place and turn to face him.
“I was curious.” he says, shrugging.
“Okay, well I’d like you to leave now.” I say pointing towards the door.
“No you don’t,” he says, stepping closer to me. So close I can smell his cologne. It was woody yet musky. Dior Sauvage I would guess, making a mental note to check it out at the mall next time I got the chance. 
“You say that like you know what I want.”
“Cause I do.” he says, staring down into my eyes.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m Rafe fucking Cameron. And you’re just some girl who has a birthday party with kids she doesnt even know. I see right through you.”
“Im not just some girl, who do you think you are talking to me like that?” I feel rage flowing through my body and I take a step closer, our chests practically touching. His chest is rising with deep breaths and I glance at his hands that are balled into fists.
“You think you’re hot shit now that you hang with kids on figure 8. But they won’t forget where your loyalties lie. You proved it tonight by inviting your fucking pogues.” I roll my eyes.
“Is that what this is about? Cus I invited my best friends? They’re just people Rafe. You and your loser friends only care about labels. We’re not even fucking friends why are you here if you’re so hung up on who I invited?” 
“You think anyone would be here if I wasn’t?” I scoff at his arrogance.
“God you’re so full of yourself. Get a grip.” 
Everything happens in an instant. His body moves forcefully against mine, pushing me into my closet door. I wince at the abrupt force. His arms are planted on the door above my head and he dips his face to meet mine.
“You're not as cool as you think you are pretty girl. You can stand on a table and shotgun all the beers you want. You can dance like a fucking slut at any party but that’s all anyone gonna remember you by. A party girl with no personality.” I feel tears well in my eyes at his bitter words.
“You act like your entire personality isnt partying. You live in a fucking fantasy world where its cool to do coke and fuck random girls like its a well respected hobby. You don’t know shit about my personality because I would never let someone like you know anything about me.” I spit back.
He stands silent for a second, his breathing hard and heavy. My eyes meet his, tears no longer threatening to spill over. All I feel is hot rage and red staring into his blue eyes. His right-hand moves from above my head to grip the back of my neck. He pauses as if he's second-guessing his next move.
Before I can think of a response his mouth collides with mine. I melt into his touch, tasting the liquor shared between our breath and his cool tongue grazing over my bottom lip. Reluctantly I let out a groan, frustrated that he was a good kisser. He moves his mouth aggressively against mine, pushing me hard against the wall. My hands finally move from my sides up into his hair giving a slight tug. 
He finally releases his grip from the back of my neck and I gasp out trying to catch my breath when I hear screaming from outside. I decided it would be quicker to get to the back through the sliding door in my room that leads to a small patio on the side of the house. I run out and around the house to see a commotion happening on the dance floor.
My breath hitches and goosebumps rise across my body as I realize what is happening. Rafe trails behind me as I get closer to the group of people fighting, seeing JJ and Pope getting kicked around on the ground
“WHAT THE FUCK” I screech, pushing through the crowd, trying to pull the guys off of my friends. I turn around to Rafe.
“HELP ME” I ask, He runs his hands through his hair, contemplating on what he should do
“Please” I beg before turning around to try and pick JJ off the ground. I turn around to see Rafe grab the idiot off of Pope and help Pope stand up.
“PARTYS OVER” He roars across the crowd. The DJ instantly turns off the music and I see Sabrina running over to the scene. I’m holding JJ up with my arms as he limps over with blood smeared across his face. 
“JJ what happened? Where’s Sarah and John B?” I ask. I then realize JJ is drunk out of his mind and cant even look straight. 
I turn around to see Pope is sitting on a chair with Rafe standing next to him.
“Pope what happened, where is everyone?”
The crowd starts to clear and I tug JJ along to sit next to Pope.
“They went looking for you and some kooks started talking shit about us being here and…” he trails off. “Sorry to ruin your birthday Y/N”
“I know its your birthday n all but I really dont think these people wanted us here.” JJ finally says.
“No shit.” I hear John B saying behind me.
“There you guys are. What the fuck happened I left for 5 minutes and these fools are getting curb stomped?”
“These are your new fucking friends lets remember that” JJ Says, finally standing. “Look, we love you Y/N. But its not a good idea for us to be comin to any of these events again.” he says harshly.
“But I wanted you guys here.”
“And we wanted to be here to support you but, JJs right Y/N. Its never a good outcome for us to be in Figure 8.” John B says, pulling Pope off of the chair. “Lets go guys.”
I stand there feeling hopeless. I wasnt allowed back on the cut, and if my friends wouldnt come to my side of the island, I would never see them.
“But- but” I stammer. 
Sabrina interrupts the moment tugging my arm to face her.
“Hey, I’m gonna go but I’ll be back in the morning to help you clean okay?” Sabrina says, nudging her head over to the top of the patio where the DJ was standing there, with all his stuff packed up. “He’s gonna walk me home.” she says with a smirk. 
“Okay I’ll see you.” I turned to realize my friends were making their way towards the front door. 
“Guys please dont leave.” I plead catching up with them.
“We gotta get them home Y/N,” Kie says, holding Popes hand. 
“I’ll text you when were back okay? I hope you had a good birthday.” she says, giving me a kiss on my cheek and opening the front door.
“I’ll see you soon okay?” Sarah says, giving me a tight squeeze before walking out with the rest of them. I watch them walk down my driveway, feeling defeated and angry. 
I turn around and slam the front door shut, looking around the room to see a mess of red solo cups, streamers and popped balloons all over the floor. I rip my heels off my feet and walk towards my basement door before I hear the back door slide open.
“I don’t think we were finished.”
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47 notes · View notes
breakfastteatime · 6 months
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(For Whumptober Day 26 - 'Sometimes I get so tired, I don't know myself')
"Hey, hey, you're okay. You're okay, Cal. Take it slow."
Lights and rain blind Cal the moment he opens his eyes. A strange garbled sound emerges from him. What... where...
A shadow leans over, offering relief from the lights and the rain. Who? Master Tapal? Cal blinks the rainwater from his startled eyes, clearing his vision. Oh. Cal's slow brain finally coughs up an identity. It's Prauf. Good thing Cal can't get any words out right now.
Good thing he's too tired to cry. Disappointment knocks the wind out of him.
Prauf looks sad. "I warned you," he says. "They're called death shifts for a reason." There's a big hand resting on Cal's head. "You look awful." Prauf sighs. "Good news though, you made it through."
Death shift. Five days. Minimal breaks. Never leaving the shipyard. Quadruple pay if you see all five days through and remain productive throughout. He'd made it? All those credits were his now. He'd be ahead, just for a little while. He can finally repair his -
Prauf looks over his shoulder. "Hey! I dunno what any of you slackers are staring at, but you better start minding your own business unless you wanna get assigned to septic tank duty!"
Cal pushes himself up. The ship is hazy, the other scrappers patches of blue and orange hustling around him. He feels all heavy and light all in one go. His exhaustion isn't gone, but he feels good enough to get right back to work. Maybe he should. Look, his tools are right there. All he's gotta do is pick... pick... pi -
When Cal misses for the third time, Prauf swipes them up and tucks them on his own belt. "Not a chance, pal, you can't even see straight," he says. "You got a second wind?"
Second... secondy thousand wind? Whatever. Cal nods.
"Great!" Prauf gives him a hearty pat on the back. "Let's use that to get to the train."
"I'm fine," Cal says.
Or not.
"People who are fine can enunciate," Prauf chuckles. "Sorry, but 'mfyn' doesn't pass muster. Besides, the Guild's pretty strict about rest periods after death shifts. Even they've got some limits."
Eyes rolling, Cal plods along with Prauf... plods into Prauf... all the way back to the train. Plenty of people stare at him on the station. Cal weaves on his feet, Prauf poking him back into place every now and then. People stare more. Are they waiting for him to fall? (Again?) Not too many people can pull off a death shift, especially not teeny tiny Humans, and word got around that Cal was on one (he asked for it, and he'll never complain about a mere hell shift ever again). Maybe they think he failed. Hah, he'll show them on payday. He's gonna get the best meal down at the Sparkplug and -
The train pulls in. Cal nearly falls over as it screeches by. Prauf wraps an arm around him, holding tight. It finally stops, doors sliding open, workers spewing out from its greasy innards.
Everyone about to board their carriage waits.
Prauf nudges him. "Death shift survivors always get to go first."
Cal boards the carriage, finds himself a chair next to a support beam and falls into it. Everyone else follows, the carriage filling with the stench of rain soaked bodies. He can feel the prickly prickles of eyes watching him. He knows - he's an easy target and someone's going to take the opportunity to rob him.
Prauf stands in front of him, blocking him from view. "What?" he tells the other scrappers. "You really think you're gonna try something?"
"Hey, it's called a death shift. If the kid can't defend himself, he shouldn't volunteer for 'em."
Cal looks up. Someone is actually trying to square up to Prauf. Cal notes the uniform. Hazmat. Brain's gotta be cooked from all the shit they breathe in all day. 'Cause Prauf is big. Like really big. Like soooooo big. Cal watches him looming over the Hazmat dumbass.
"Try it," Prauf says.
The crowd steps back.
All except one.
"Get tae fuck!" Tabbers. Tabbers is here too. "Youse better leave the boy alone, else you'll be picking your teeth out of my fists!"
"He ain't got any, Tabbers!" someone shouts.
More shouts go out. Then the only people standing in front of Cal are Prauf and Tabbers, and the train is moving, rocking down the tracks and Cal is -
"Such a wee thing to be working like this."
Footsteps. Boots on rain-soaked metal. Cal is... not walking. He opens his eyes. Whoa, the ground is a long way below. Prauf's thrown him over one shoulder. Literally. He watches his arms swinging with every step Prauf takes.
"I tried telling him he didn't need to do it, but wanna know what he said?"
Prauf's voice, rumbling right into Cal's ear.
"I already hate what youse are gonna say to me," Tabbers moans.
"He says 'Might as well be at work instead of sitting doing nothing. Otherwise, it's just laziness.'"
Tabbers' complaints follow Cal down into sleep.
He wakes up again on a sofa brimming with sleepy energy. He knows it so well. He's at Prauf's place. Safe. He opens his eyes and finds a blanket over his head. He fights his way free of the thing (it's four times the size he needs it to be) and emerges into the bleak light of Bracca's dawn. Even that's enough to stab him through both eyes and directly into his aching head.
"Morning!" Prauf calls from his small kitchenette. "You alive?"
Cal grunts.
Prauf laughs. "Not quite regained the power of speech, huh?" He walks over and drops a cup of caf and a bowl of oatmeal on the coffee table. "Get that down you."
Cal doesn't need telling twice. When he emerges, he's even starting to feel alive again.
"You're off-shift until tomorrow," Prauf says. "Your prize for surviving a death shift."
"Okay." Cal doesn't even care that he can't go to work today. He survived a death shift, and he only had a few hallucinations and a couple of accidental naps on his feet while doing it. Maybe he'll make it a yearly thing whenever he could use the extra credits. "Thanks for letting me sleep here."
"You can talk! You didn't break your brain!"
Cal glares at Prauf. Prauf cracks up.
"So, today's my day off too. Whaddya say, wanna head into town and pick up the parts you need for your heater? I'll be happy to help you fix it up."
"Really?"
"Really, kiddo. C'mon, shake a leg."
Sliding off the couch, Cal pulls his boots on. "Thanks, Prauf. For everything."
"Anytime. And Cal?"
His head pops out of his poncho. "Yeah?"
"No more death shifts, alright? Surviving here is all about pacing. Don't wear yourself down to the bone before you're done growing, okay?"
Cal's is a crooked smile. "I'll try."
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writingwithciara · 3 months
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Warning Labels ~Nate Macauley~
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summary: getting all types of warnings from her friends about nate macauley, y/n knows she shouldn't be falling for him. but she does anyway, knowing it will most likely end badly.
word count: 2.5k
pairings: nate macauley x reader
warnings: swearing, mention of drugs
a/n: just recently watched One Of Us Is Lying & immediately fell in love with nate. not sure why but i'm glad it happened. this takes place in a world where bronwyn doesn't exist (although i love her)
masterlist
"Who'd you get as your science partner?" Addy set her lunch tray down and looked at her friend.
"I got Nate." y/n sighed. "Has he ever handed in a project in his life?"
"Not since the 7th grade." Jake shook his head and laughed. "You're pretty much screwed if you want a good grade. He hardly comes to school, but when he does, he's usually only here to sell drugs."
"I'll just do the project myself and put his name on it."
"That's not fair. He shouldn't get credit for not doing anything."
"Jake, I've been doing the same thing for you for the last 5 years. Don't tell me it isn't right."
"Okay, fine. Let him believe that he can slack off all the time and still manage to get decent grades while not deserving them." Jake picked up his lunch tray and Addy followed. Cooper looked at y/n and shrugged before following the others out of the cafeteria.
During her free period, y/n decided to go find Nate. Luckily he was in the very first place she looked.
"Nate, we need to talk."
"If this is about our science project, you don't have to worry. Let's come up with a topic and I'll do my fair share of the work."
"Are you serious? You haven't done work on a project since the 7th grade."
"Okay, that's not true. In 7th grade, Jake & I were partners on a project & I actually did a lot of the work but he turned it in on the day I was really sick, so he got all the credit. Ever since then, teachers will put me with the rich kids who usually don't do their own work & they just expect that I won't do any of the work. And then the same situation repeats itself over and over."
"That's not right. You should tell somebody."
"Who is the administration going to believe, huh? The rich kid obviously. To them, I'm nothing but a drug dealer."
"Maybe we can change that. I'm not a rich kid & I won't take credit for any work you do, as long as you actually do something on the project."
"Okay. Meet me at the library in town after school. I have a few topics that I want to discuss." Nate climbed on his bike and took off before y/n could respond. She shook her head and headed back inside for her last class of the day.
After school was over, y/n walked towards the library. She was expecting to be waiting for Nate for a few hours but when the library came into view, she saw Nate sitting on the front steps. When he saw her, he jumped up excitedly.
"I really wasn't expecting you to show up on time."
"Well, I got here a little earlier than planned. I know, it's shocking."
"Very, given your reputation to not show up to things."
"I'm a senior in high school. I think my reputation needs a change." Nate chuckled and looked at y/n. "Let's get started."
Nate & y/n spent 3 hours trying to come up with a good science project that wouldn't take too long but would produce some impressive results. They narrowed their list down to a few and decided that they'd pick one and start it tomorrow.
After the library, Nate gave y/n a ride home on his bike.
"Thanks for the ride." she smiled and climbed off, handing the helmet back to him.
"It was no problem. It's on my way home anyway." Nate put the helmet on the back of his bike and looked back at her. "Thanks for not giving up on working with me for this project."
"We gotta change your reputation, right?" she offered him another smile and turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"Same time, same place?"
"If you're referring to school, then yes. But if you're talking about the library, I'll probably be a little late. Got practice for an hour."
"Oh, right. Forgot you were a cheerleader." he chuckled and started his bike. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." Nate was gone before y/n could respond.
"See you tomorrow, Nate Macauley."
The next day at school, Nate showed up to all of his classes and only sold kids drugs during breaks and lunch. When the day was over, y/n went to the gym for practice. Addy looked up from doing her stretches.
"Hey, y/n. Over here."
Y/n approached her friend and started her stretches. "Hey, where is everybody else? There's only 5 girls here."
"I'm not sure. There was only 2 when I got here." Addy grabbed onto her foot and leaned over. "So, I noticed Nate showed up at school today and actually attended classes."
"Yeah. Science class was interesting. I mean, watching the teacher yell at him for missing so many assignments was hilarious. It was even better when he was handed all the workbooks and papers."
"I'm sure he wasn't pleased with it."
"It was funny, but I do kind of feel bad for him." y/n stretched her arms out.
"Oh well. Serves him right for missing so much school." Addy checked over her shoulder when the door slammed open. A few more cheerleaders walked in and took their usual spots. "Where's the coach and all the other girls?"
"Haven't heard from coach all day. Have you even seen her?"
"No, we haven't. Maybe she's not coming." y/n looked around. "Should we just leave?"
"I'm definitely leaving." Addy stood up and stretched one more time. "You wanna go see a movie, y/n?"
"I would love to but I gotta meet Nate at the library to work on our science project." y/n stood up and went to the locker room. Addy followed and opened her locker.
"You're not gonna start ditching us for Nate, are you? Because that's just not right."
"I'm only going to be spending time with him until our project is finished. That's it."
"Good, because we can't have you falling in love with him. It would not be good for you or your reputation."
"I appreciate you looking out for me, Addy, but I don't think you guys are ever going to have to worry about me falling in love with him. It's just never going to happen." y/n gave her friend a small wave and headed off to the library. When she walked in, Nate smiled at her.
"Hey. I wasn't expecting you for another 40 minutes."
"Coach didn't show up so we all decided to leave."
Nate chuckled. "One afternoon with me and you're already ditching? I wish I could say I'm shocked but I'm really just proud of that."
"Relax, Macauley. It wasn't a class. It was just practice. I don't get graded for it."
"I know. But you still ditched. I like that." Nate smirked. "Have you given any thought to the project I suggested?"
"Yeah. I think it can definitely be done if we work nonstop on it. I'm sure it'll be impressive too, given your skills."
"My skills?"
"Yeah. I've seen you fixing cars and bikes and other stuff."
"You've been watching me?" he raised an eyebrow at his partner.
"No. Of course not. Your place is on my way home and sometimes I can see you outside working on some kind of vehicle. Plus, you fixed up my brother's car last year. It was great."
"Oh. Well, thanks. I work hard when it comes to something I love." he looked at the textbook in front of him. "Shall we get started?"
"In a minute. I actually have something for you." y/n reached into her bag and pulled out a tupperware container. "Yesterday, you said the brownies I had were delicious, so I made some more for you last night."
"Seriously? That's so kind of you." Nate took a brownie from the container and took a bite. "Wow. What do you put in these?"
"Like I'd ever reveal my secret ingredient." y/n smirked and pulled out her notebook. "Okay. What materials are we going to need?"
For the next 2 weeks, y/n and Nate spent 3 hours together every day after school working on their project. As Nate put the final touches on it, y/n took a moment to watch his muscles contract against his shirt. The voices of her friends floated around in her head as she watched,
"You can't fall in love with him."
"It's not good for your reputation."
"He's already corrupting you."
"He's not good enough for you."
"All he does is skip school and sell drugs."
"He's a bad influence on you."
Nate finished his work and stood back to admire it. "What do you think?"
"Huh?"
"I asked what you thought of the project."
"Oh. It looks amazing, Nate. You did good."
"You mean we did good." he looked at y/n and smiled. Like her, he had voices bouncing around in his head. Most of them were of his dad and a few were his friends, but they were all telling him that he shouldn't get too close to y/n. She was only going to turn her back on him as soon as they handed in their project, so he needed to distance himself from her. "Hey, I gotta go. But I'll see you at school on Monday."
Before y/n could turn around and say goodbye, Nate was gone. When y/n got home, she called Cooper, knowing he wouldn't judge her for how she was feeling.
"Coop, I don't know what I'm going to do. All of our friends are going to hate me for how I'm starting to feel."
"Y/n, it's going to be okay. Nobody can help who they fall in love with." he took a second before continuing. "Besides, who are they to judge, really? Addy cheated on Jake with TJ and is only hurting herself by not telling him. You're just catching feelings for an actually decent guy. That's way better than what they're going through."
"Thanks, Cooper. You really know how to make me feel better."
"It's what I'm best at." Cooper chuckled on the other end of the line. "I gotta go but feel free to call me if Addy & Jake give you shit for hanging out with Nate."
"Alright. Bye, Coop." y/n hung up and looked at her ceiling. She started remembering how close everyone was back in elementary school, even Nate and Jake. The memories were mostly happy, aside from the few that were too heartbreaking to remember. Y/n wanted nothing more than the good moments back. She wanted to be able to tell her friends how she was feeling, without receiving judgement from them.
Maybe in another world.
When Monday morning came around, y/n looked for Nate but couldn't find him. Assuming that he just slept in, she headed to Science class and handed in their project. Luckily their teacher was going to let them present it in class tomorrow instead of today.
At lunch, Nate was still a no-show & it was beginning to worry y/n. Cooper noticed her discomfort and pulled her aside.
"You alright?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Your mind has been preoccupied since I saw you this morning & you've been looking around the cafeteria like a crazy lady. Luckily nobody else noticed." he touched her shoulder. "Is this about Nate?"
"God, I hate that you can read me so well." y/n slumped her shoulders. "I really thought he was changing, you know? I thought he'd be here to present our science project with me, but I haven't seen him all day. Do you think he took some drugs?"
"Why would that thought even cross your mind? You know better than anyone that he's been trying to stay sober. If you're so worried about him, why don't you go see him? I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for his absence on such an important day."
"I can't just ditch school. That's not like me at all."
"You care about him, right?"
"Well, yeah but-"
"Then go to him. I can cover for you here."
"Thanks, Coop." she kissed his cheek and ran out of the school. Luckily Nate's house was not far so she didn't have to rush. When she got to his house, Nate was in the garage. "Nate, we need to talk."
"What do you want, y/n?"
"I want to know why you haven't returned my calls or texts all weekend and why you didn't show up at school today."
"The project is over so I figured that you should go back to hanging out with your friends and I'll go back to being alone all the time. It's no big deal for me."
"It is a big deal. It's a huge deal. I know you, Nate. And I know that you enjoyed these last 2 weeks because it gave you someone other than your buyers to talk to. You don't like being alone, just admit it."
"Why can't you let it go? I don't want to hang out with anyone. That's why I do what I do."
"What is your problem? You were fine on Friday...and we used to be friends. What gives?"
"You really want to know why we aren't friends?"
"Yes, I really do. So why don't you tell me?"
"When we got to high school, you got hot & that's just not fair!" he approached y/n with a finger pointed at her face.
"How is that not fair? You got hot too!" y/n looked at him. "But you don't see me pulling away from this friendship, do you? What's not fair is that you're pushing people who care about you away when you know that it's only going to hurt you in the end."
"You think I'm hot?" Nate's scowl suddenly turned into a smirk.
"No. I didn't say that."
"Yes, you did." his smirk kept growing. "You just said it like 10 seconds ago."
"That's not the reason I came over here." y/n looked behind him. "Why don't you want to be friends with me?"
"Because you're hot and popular. You've got a good reputation and being friends with me will only bring you down. I care about you enough to not let that happen."
"I don't give a damn about my reputation anymore, if you can't already tell by me being here in the middle of a school day." y/n took a step closer. "And if you really cared about me, you wouldn't let reputations get in the way of that."
"Look, what if we become friends again and end up falling in love or something? That could ruin the very fragile relationship we barely have. I don't want that."
"I'm willing to risk it, Nate." y/n looked up at him. "Please tell me that you're willing to do the same."
"Fine. For you, and only for you, I'm willing to risk our friendship for love."
"Love, huh? Do you really feel it?"
"Yeah, I really do. How about you?"
"Despite all the warnings from my friends, I absolutely feel it too."
"Good because," he pulled her close and looked into her eyes. "I really want to kiss you."
"How about we start with a date first, huh?"
"Okay. Deal!"
taglist: @worldlxvlys
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888sss · 11 months
Text
Potions
Does anyone still write for Draco Malfoy?
Draco Malfoy x (Female) Reader
Desc: Reader spends a lot of time talking about Draco with her friends, so she finds a way to hang out with him.
Warnings: uh like kinda fluff at the end? Pansy Parkinson? Idk
Draco and I have been close since we were sorted into Slytherin years ago, and recently the time we spent together felt full of tension, and maybe its one sided, but I was starting to feel for him romantically.
I knew that Pansy liked Draco, and since she was my best friend I obviously kept that information very private and to myself. Of course I would never tell Pansy, I liked Draco, but I did tell Blaise. The three of us have been friends since first year, and more recently, Pansy joined us because she didn't talk to us until the past 2 months.
It was about 9 pm, we were all sitting in the common room. Pansy was trying to make conversation with Draco. Enzo, Theo and Adrien all sat having their own talk. I sat with Blaise as he told me about this blonde Ravenclaw girl he wanted to take out, whose name he wouldn't disclose. We then started getting into the conversation of relationships, and who we think would look good together. Blaise was surprisingly good at finding romantic couples out of people, but maybe that was because he was observant.
"Okay Mr. Match maker who would you set up with... Looney Lovegood!" I ask thinking i finally found someone he wouldn't be able to think of a match for. 
"She's not looney, don't call her that, she's quite nice actually, and I'm not sure I could match her with someone. Luna likes to focus on her studies, and research." Blaise said in a very matter-of-fact manner. 
"I knew that she would stump you! and since when have you been paying attention to Luna so much?" I say exaggerating her name. Blaise stares at me blankly, and suddenly i am reminded of the mysterious Blonde Ravenclaw.
"You have a thing for Luna Lovegood!" I practically yelled as i made the connection, Draco looking over with a raised eyebrow pointed at Blaise inferring that this would definitely be brought up later. 
"Ooh Blaise wants the nerdy chics!" Adrien laughs from across the room causing the rest of us to burst out in laughter.
After the room settles down, Blaise looks back at me and speaks loudly, "What about Draco, who do you think would be a nice fit for him?" Blaise says with a smirk on his face, knowing that Draco is now overhearing this conversation. I look over at the Blonde haired boy and it is as if I can see his ears tune into our conversation completely. Of course I'm not gonna give my genuine answer, which would be me, of course, but with Draco and Pansy in the room i'm not willing to take that risk.
"Well, I think Draco is... He's better alone, he doesn't really seem like dating material. However we still should take into account all the girls he brings back to his dorm room every Friday. That's gotta be some type of credit." I say in a sarcastic tone trying to bring the conversation back between Blaise and I.
"Every Friday night is pretty Specific, y/n how much attention are you paying to our dorm's visitors, huh?" Blaise continues the joke, taunting me with the information i gave him weeks ago.
"Well y'know with Theodore Nott in that room of course I'm going to pay attention." i look over giving him a wink, as he sits by the fireplace and looks up from his conversation with Adrien and Enzo.
"You're always welcome over, y/n!" Theo looks at me and winks back. I smile and look back at Blaise who is looking at Draco, who of course is staring at me. His eyebrows raised in an 'oh yeah?' type manner, but no words come from his mouth. 
The night continues and we eventually all come together, discussion, jokes, and insults, flying across the room as we laugh and poke fun of each other.
"Can you guys keep it down, im trying to sleep! Enzo yells from a couch in the corner of the room.
"Shut the fuck up Enzo!" Draco shoots back, as he stands up, and we all start to get up and gather our things, realizing we should probably go to sleep as well.
Pansy and I go back to our dorm, where the other girls are already sleeping, I get into the shower and wash my hair, and my body, and then start my face care after getting out. 
While getting into my pajamas, I cant help but think about Draco, and what it would be like if we were dating. I somehow convinced myself to go talk to him, finding myself at his door. in my pajamas.
I knock 3 times, and Theo comes to the door.
"Taking up my offer princess?"
"Who is it?" I hear Draco and Blaise say at the same time.
"Sorry Theo, but I'm actually here to talk to Draco." I say apologetically, knowing Theo's just joking anyways.
"Draco you've got a visitor!" He calls to Draco as he opens the door all the way and moves over allowing me to see into the room. 
I stand in shock when my eyes find Draco. He was shirtless, and his hair was wet, as if he had gotten out of the shower. I've seen Draco shirtless before, but he must be working out lately because his abs, and arms were more defined and muscular than I remember.
"Y/n you can come in, it's rude to stand in doorways." Blaise says laughing at me. I make my way into the room and sit on Draco's bed as I've done countless times before.
"So what'd you want to talk to me about?" Draco asks, standing next to me.
"Well first I want you to put on a shirt, but secondly, I need your help with potions." I lied realizing that I didn't want to make any moves on Draco while our friends were in the room.
"Why didn't you ask while we were in the common room, we're all about to go to sleep." Blaise complains turning off his lamp. 
"Because I was so intrigued by hearing about your not so secret crush on Luna." I quickly retorted, causing Theo to come out of the bathroom, and bombard Blaise with questions.
"So what are you confused about?" Draco said putting on a shirt, and pulling out his desk chair to sit across from me.
"Well firstly-" I started
"ZABINI HAD A WET DREAM ABOUT LUNA!" Theo shouted, jumping on top of Blaise, which caused them to start arguing very loudly.
"Can we go some place else, i can't hear myself over the children in the room." I said raising my voice. Draco nodded in response, grabbing his binder and pencil.
"Sorry mommy." Theo shouted on my way out, while throwing a pillow at Blaise's face.
Draco exited behind me, and we went to sit back in the common room, in front of the fireplace.
"So like I was saying, yesterdays homework isn't making sense, and our quiz tomorrow is really stressing me out because i don't know what directions go with which spells." I quickly made up realizing that I for some reason was subconsciously continuing this lie as an excuse to talk to him alone.
"Well for all the potions you need to remember the ratios,"  Draco pulled put a blank paper and his notes from class, beginning to make a diagram. "For these potions the ratio is one to four to three, and you set up the math like this..." 
He continued to talk and at some point i stopped listening and watched his face glow from the fire in front of us. The way his nose and jawline were even more defined. The way his eyes slightly squinted when he worked out the math. He's so pretty.
"Y/n are you even listening to me?" Draco says waving his hand in front of my face. 
"uh yes I'm listening, and it makes a lot more sense now." I say in a convincing tone that hopefully he'll believe. 
"Are you tired? You seem tired. Maybe we can work on this in the morning, yeah?" He asked looking at me with a concerned look on his face.
"Yeah that works, thank you." I say with a genuine smile. He stands up and reaches his hand out to lift me up with a small smile on his face as well. We stand there, neither of us wanting to leave. Our hips felt to be connected to a string as I couldn't bring myself to just walk away.
I took a step closer and got up on my tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 
"Goodnight Draco." I whispered, as I started to walk away. He grabbed my arm and spun me back around.
"I think you missed, pretty girl." Draco smiled Pulling me into him, making our bodies crash together. He threw his binder onto the couch, and our lips collided, exploring unknown territories and starting unknown boundaries. He pulled away from the kiss, out of breath. grinning.
"What?" I laughed at him
"We don't have a potions quiz tomorrow. You set me up!" he sounded surprised. He held my face in his hands and kissed me again. 
"Goodnight pretty girl." he said with a smile as he gathered his things and walked back to his dorm.
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nightswithkookmin · 1 year
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Okay I'm finally ready to move on from this.
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I have been blogging about almost every concept Jimin drops but I have been reluctant to share it because it's just missing a vital piece of myself. Usually when I write, I enjoy what I write and every feeling and emotion I express is real and authentic. So imagine me trying to write something fun and positive while feeling like crap within?
I'm grateful for every single one of you. My instinct was to disengage and disconnect but talking to yall and seeing your attempts to cheer me up- cheered me up. Lol. I don't know why I thought avoiding people and dealing with things on my own was the only way to cope. yalls way equally works too. Works better I'd say.
Thanks for not pushing though and having the grace to let me be when I needed to be alone and not punishing me when I returned to talk to yall.
This is new to me. Well not new new, I do that for others it's just people don't do that for me very often so I don't bother to make friends at all. I'll give and not bother to take nothing. I love you guys for this
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I won't feed into the negative. As I said OP isn't the first or last person to pull a stunt like this. I'm aware of others. I don't say anything about those because I can tell from the manner in which they engage with my content they simply just want to amplify my voice and my words.
To such people it's not about me or them, it's about Jimin. Jimin is at the center of their thoughts and actions. Some even say in their posts, I wish Jimin could see this message. And while they fail to credit me for whatever reason, I still feel my work is honored and respected because it is being used the way I intended it to be used.
I don't write these word for no body but Park Jimin. He is the one I adore, he is the one I extol. And if you are going to borrow my words to extol him and honor him then I don't think it matters of you credit me or not. We are all just fans of the same man. We can lend our voices to each other.
Taehyung sees Army's posts and art about Jimin and he saves them and shows them to Jimin. He wants jimin to know people love you, people support you and I think that is truly encouraging for JM himself. There is a while trail of moons on JM's back because Tae chose to amplify someone's fanart.
Jimin does the same thing with Jungkook when people mention him in his lives. He wants Jungkook to know he is being loved on and that I feel motivates and encourages Jungkook.
But for you to take words that are not yours and present them as yours implies you want to be centered and credited for those words. Which invariably means it's not about Jimin or the writer behind those words, it's about you and your need for attention and I find that dishonorable.
It's even more bizarre and disconcerting when you feel you have to go out of your way to deplatform the original creator in order to center yourself.
This is the problem I grapple with in this community. People are constantly trying to deplatform me and claim authorship of my work at the same damn time. And they do this by deliberately concocting lies, stories, misconstruing my thoughts and my words, taking things out of context and massacring my reputation.
It's always, look she said this about Jimin. She hates Jimin. She shades jikook. She is an anti. I hate her guts because she is not an actual fan of the boys. Yall should hate her too. She's creepy. She's the end of days.
So when such people see something they know go against their rhetorics and narratives about me they try to either suppress by discouraging people from engaging with it while they turn around and steal those words as their own to make themselves look good.
And they are not vilifying me because they genuinely believe I'm bad or that I hate these boys. No. They only do it to elevate themselves. Someone has to be bad so they can be good.
It's always, she's bad don't follow her, but look I'm good and nonproblematic and you should follow me not her.
Jealousy is a disease and I won't call anyone jealous.
But also,
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I remember, I used to be friends with some people before Tumblr and they are quite "big jikook" accounts. Well some have left the Fandom but still. We would talk about Jikook nonstop and we'd discuss moments and scenes i loved and I'd always tell them, this happened here that happened there and they would download the video and make edits based on my suggestions and share them.
I knew nothing about video editing- still don't, and frankly I don't care to learn. I love writing more.
But when they learned I was doing Tumblr, they turned on me quick. Suddenly they were the ones trying debunk my theories, and when they couldn't they would create their own versions of the videos I had already made or actively try to suppress my content by disparaging me and making up stories.
Suddenly it was, she's trying to compete, she's trying to take z away from us. It was an unending cycle till eventually I stopped making my own videos- well I still make them I just don't share them🥴
There's a popular jikook account who even told me blog analysis are unneeded and that what they did was better than mine because they were providing "actual evidence" and not just opinions and assumptions etc.
And yes they said it to my face as friendly advice😆
Same advice I heard from people who thought I shouldn't be pointing out Jikooks "ground breaking scenes" because it makes me come off creepy🙂
They would rather I told them so they made the edits on their accounts cos they "love me and hate to see me get hated on" out here ☹
Okay besties, and while you're at it why don't you fuck my girlfriend for me cos rubbing vaginas together is really breaking my back👉🏾👈🏾
The elitism in this community is real and they don't like to hear it but gag me and I'll shout it out of my ass
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Creators in this space can be very competitive and often envious of others and they try to weaponize their platforms to take out anyone they deem a threat to their delusional high ranks in the-- who-gives-a-fuck-Karen- it's-not-that-deep-sit-down
When you hear them talk about "young impressionable minds" that's when you know they've gone and filled their bellies full of themselves.
Anywho, my reaction was not just because some random person stole my whole blog and made it theirs. It was more a trauma response to the constant vitriol, vilification, malicious attempts at deplatforming me, the constant micro and macro aggressions and the vicious gruesome mental attacks I endure out here.
But I'm good. ✌
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In the last few days, I've made two long and rambling posts about Cowgate, a short incident from 2003 that haunts my nightmares. I think people should know that when I make posts like that - the ones that go way too long about something entirely niche - I am operating under the assumption that absolutely no one is reading this bullshit. Even the small handful of people who read this blog regularly, I assume you skip over those ones.
That's not just a hypothetical assumption, I make writing choices accordingly. I assume the only purpose of this post is to give me somewhere to put the hauntings besides my nightmares, and therefore, it doesn't matter if it's readable. I know that my whole blog is full of errors, but on posts like that, I get especially lax with things like editing. I go really deep on things where on a different post, I might think - okay, that's far enough. Because no one is reading this.
I have now been proven wrong several times about those couple of posts, which both mildly embarrasses and delights me. First of all, I got this great comment from @beastlyanachronism, which is now how I love to picture myself:
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Then, the wonderful @lastweeksshirttonight proved that they'd read not only the posts but the comment, by immediately messaging me a corresponding picture. I replied that I love the image, I will definitely start my post with that image the next time a new Cowgate-based detail is found and I need to write about it. I didn't expect that to be soon, though. Breakthroughs are few and far between.
But then, I got another message, proving that at least three different people have read my post (actually four, if you count the very kind British man who read my post and then sent me a message to explain the nuances in the expression "bottle it"). And that last message is the reason for this post. Because, I can't believe I've been given cause to use this image so soon:
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Further content behind the cut, because not everyone needs this content all over their feed.
This relates to the message I got last night, from the extremely helpful @linkeightvideo, who not only read my posts, but joined the cause and did his own research. And came up with this link:
The Metro cow is a thing!!! I knew the wording of that YouTube comment was weird (calling it "the Metro cow", rather than something like "a cow that said Metro on it"), suggesting that this was a specific and recognizable instillation. And I was right! But I cannot take credit for figuring that out, all credit goes to @linkeightvideo, who is the best.
The above link is to an archived version of an article from August 5, 2003, about three weeks before Cowgate occurred (which was August 26, 2003 - fun fact that has absolutely nothing to do with anything because to the best of my knowledge he wasn't there or anything, but that was also Nish Kumar's eighteenth birthday). The article is from the Edinburgh Fringe website. It's short enough so I'm just going to paste its text in full:
The Fringe was hit by a bunch of cotton-pickin', rootin-tootin' cattle ruslers in the early hours of Saturday night. The almost life-sized, bright blue and red Metro bull was stolen from outside the Metro Fringe Box Office. Metro newspapers are appealing for its safe return before the police are called and urge anyone with information to come forward. Metro Fringe Box Office Manager, Gillian O'Connor said: "We're distraught to have lost such a valuable member of the Box Office team! Please bring him back." The bull had just completed a secondment outside London's Victoria station, where he stood unmoved for a month. Yet after only a few days on duty with the Fringe he has gone missing leaving today's Festival Cavalcade a bull short of a procession.
That's it!!! That's the one! It was blue and red! I know it was blue and red, because Adam hills shouted "it's got red horns, it's all the rage". And it was almost life sized! And it said Metro on the side! Further research - also done by @linkeightvideo, he deserves all the credit in the world for this - finds that Metro sponsored the Edinburgh Fringe Festival that year, and also directly sponsored the Gilded Balloon venue.
So, the company called Metro had a large cow that was used in advertisements, and for one month in the summer of 2003, it was in London, outside Victoria Station. Then it was brought to Edinburgh, because they were sponsoring the festival and running a box office. They put it outside that box office, and it got stolen within "a few days" (which makes sense, as August 5th is a few days into the festival). It was meant to be part of the Festival Cavalcade, but couldn't be due to thieves.
Then, three weeks later, it spends all night on stage during a late-night comedy show in an Edinburgh venue that Metro sponsors, where it gets taken apart. How do we get from one state of affairs to the other? I don't know, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to understanding than I was yesterday. If the cow was somehow recovered, it would make sense from them to move it indoors, where it can be guarded better (again, credit for this idea goes to @linkeightvideo, and I think it makes sense). I mean, it can be guarded from drunk thieves in the middle of the night. Apparently the stage of the Gilded Balloon is not a good place to guard it from (shockingly) sober comedians in the middle of the night.
This made me try searching again for the specific words "Metro cow", and I found this article from December 12, 2003. It's a list of people who are involved with whatever organization this is, I'm not really clear on that. But it includes this one guy named Stephen Auckland. He's from the North of England, and as of when this was written, he was listened as the managing director of Metro. The bottom of his profile says:
An able sidekick to Associated Newspaper's Mike Anderson, even when it came to keeping up appearances following the disappearance of Mootro, Metro's cow mascot, from the Edinburgh festival. Auckland offered to dress up as a pantomime version. Luckily, they found the cow.
Guys! Guys! It has a fucking name! The Cowgate cow has a name! It's named Mootro! Now that I think about it, I actually can't believe I've never named the thing, given that I named the event (Cowgate), and giving the cow a name is the sort of thing I'd do. But I don't have to, because apparently it's named Mootro.
And the story has an update. It was stolen by August 5, and then it was found at some unknown point, and by August 26 it was in the Gilded Balloon. And then it got taken apart on stage.
I think this brings up one obvious question, which is: if this thing was important enough for its theft to be reported on the Edinburgh Fringe website, how come they were allowed to destroy it? The obvious answer would be that it was specifically made for just that one Edinburgh Festival, and was meant to be destroyed at the end of it anyway. But why did it spend a month in London right before that, then? And why would they do that anyway? Surely it's not efficient to make something like that for only a month, you'd think they'd plan to have it last a while and move it around based on where they're sponsoring things.
I can't believe this. This is the biggest revelation since I figured out who the fuck Karen Koren was, the woman referenced in Adam Hills' song, after after ages of Googling comedians named "Erin Coren" (finally worked out that she was the venue owner, which seems obvious now but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, when I was expecting it to be a reference to another performer). Actually, this is a much bigger revelation than that one, which just explained a couple of Adam Hills' lyrics. This is the biggest revelation in all the Cowgate research yet. The two main questions at the heart of the Cowgate mystery are: "Why did you do it?" and "Where did you get the cow?" And now one of those questions has been answered! It has a fucking name!
That second article referred to it specifically as the Metro "mascot". I guess a company is going to make more than one version of a mascot. But still, I don't think you're allowed to just destroy a sponsor's mascot. Maybe that mascot was at the end of its life anyway? Maybe Daniel Kitson just doesn't give a fuck? Maybe Daniel Kitson stole the cow in the first place. There's a whole new question. Who stole the cow? How did they get it back? How did it get from there to its whereabouts on August 26?
I know it wasn't on the Gilded Balloon stage every night of the 2003 Edinburgh Festival, because there's no sign of it in this montage, from Late 'n' Live on August 19, 2003 (also a fun video and great snippets of Chocolate Milk Gang history, if you can get past the second-hand embarrassment of Kitson trying his rap battle thing with an actual musician, and the presence of an actual musician makes the whole thing seem less ironic and therefore harder to watch - but you do get to see David O'Doherty beat up Jason Byrne and that's hilarious, also it's very funny to watch Daniel Kitson do something as out of character as brag about "nearly" winning a Barry Award and having a girlfriend from Australia, especially given how the latter turned out):
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So it wasn't there on that night. Also, it just couldn't have been there every night. The Gilded Balloon is a proper venue that has proper shows during most of its time, it couldn't just have a large cow on stage for all of those. Also, in the beginning of that montage video from August 26, you see Kitson talking to the audience about the cow, and it sounds like he considers its presence as much of a novelty as they do. I mean, he's making fun of them for thinking it's a novelty, but he doesn't seem familiar with it, it seems like something he has to address:
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This is the main reason for my theory that they didn't plan it beforehand, the montage shows the audience giving Kitson challenges for easy things to do with the cow, he asks them for more difficult challenges and then the video cuts, but I think the audience then asked him to tear it apart. It's a theory that makes sense based on some circumstantial evidence, but it does open up other questions. The main one being whether you can get permission to destroy a company's mascot between the beginning and the end of a comedy show, especially a comedy show that takes place entirely in the middle of the night. It doesn't seem likely. It also opens up some smaller questions, like what they were planning as the end of the show - the finale of the last night of Late 'n' Live, so you'd think they'd have something - that got bumped for this.
This reminds me that I had some further thoughts on the other mystery, of what actually went down on the night of August 26. I was thinking of the somewhat blue sky theory of there being two previous. Evidence for this: Adam Hills referred to "three chances", they were able to pick up chisels off the ground that seemed to just be lying around (possibly having been discarded after previous attempts), and Kitson in that video does have their air of someone who's already watched this go wrong and is really determined to make sure they get it fucking right this time. Evidence against: I'm not sure that works from a show planning perspective. What if it had worked on the first try, then what would the finale have been? If they'd watched it fail twice, would they really have made it the finale, knowing it may well fail a third time and that would be a shit ending? Though this could possibly be explained by the presence of the pipe that someone runs on stage, significantly increasing their chances compared to any attempt where that pipe was not in play.
I thought of something else today: the cow was already down when they started that video. Earlier in the night, we see comedians sitting on the cow, it's standing up. But at the end, when those guys run out to try to take it apart, they don't have to knock it down first. It's already lying on its side. They could have knock it down just before starting the song, but why would they do that? Surely knocking it down would be a fun dramatic moment, so if this were the first time they'd messed with the cow, they'd leave the knocking down to be part of the process. Unless this weren't the first time, and they had dramatically knocked it down before starting to try taking it apart, but this one done at some earlier point that the video didn't catch.
Anyway. That's the revelation. Along with some further thoughts on theories, but the main thing is the revelation. Massive breakthrough, and I need to thank @linkeightvideo one more time for research that he was under absolutely no obligation to do, but he came through anyway. What a legend. Am I using the British expressions right? What a solid gold legend.
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zepskies · 6 months
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I just have to say, genuinely everything in the BMD-verse is some of the best stuff I’ve ever read, BMD has managed to climb it’s way up to being one of my all time favorite fics that I could endlessly re-read and I can’t thank you enough for that. It was so well written and so many subtle details went into making the word feel so real, to the point where I truly felt immersed in the plot and could clearly visualize everything in my head. This fic made me laugh, cry, and had me on the edge of my seat wanting to read more to see where everything went with these two. Reading it helped brighten my day when I wasn’t having the best one. Also I don’t think I’ve ever loved OC’s quite as much as I absolutely love Frank and Loco, you put so much world building and detail into this fic and it really shows so beautifully, you were able to encapsulate the personalities of each character so well, down to the little details in how they react to certain situations or things they’d be likely to say, all while still giving your OC’s just as much depth and personality, you even executed the character arcs so realistically and it was done so damn well. This fic truly felt like a masterpiece and I am so grateful that you decided to create it, so genuinely thank you!
Okay, I didn't expect to cry today but you managed it, lovely Anon. 🥹💚
I've actually been going through a roughish time in my personal life, so you sent me this amazing note at the perfect time...
I'm having a hard time forming actual words right now, but I'm so happy that Break Me Down has become one of your favorite stories, and most of all that it helped brighten your day when you weren't feeling so hot. I definitely have my comfort stories, books, movies as well.
I genuinely put my heart and soul into BMD from conception, to outlining, to writing and editing each chapter. Even now I look at those 19 chapters and can't believe it's something I actually wrote. I'm just a sucker for a redemption story, and after SB's character hooked me, something crazy told me that he should get his chance to become a real hero.
(Here are some more details you probably don't want/need to know about how BMD began. 😅):
After writing Checkerboard, @deans-spinster-witch knows, as I've credited her many times, but she encouraged me to write a "prequel" to expand on how SB might get to that level of character growth.
...And somehow, BMD became an "enemies to lovers" epic. 😂
Thank you also for loving Frank and Loco! I've said this before, but one of the best writing tips I've ever gotten about writing minor characters is this: Write them like they're the protagonists of their own stories.
Give them their own character arcs, however short or long, whether tragic or fulfilled, etc.
When they're in the scene, give them something important to do or say that furthers the plot.
If you can't name a character, 9/10, they probably don't need to be there.
Without both Frank and Loco, Ben and the reader wouldn't have made it through until the end. And those two (especially Frank) now live in my head alongside Ben and the reader and their ever-evolving story.
This fic truly felt like a masterpiece and I am so grateful that you decided to create it, so genuinely thank you!
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Damn it, who's peeling onions?! 😭😭
You're so very welcome. 💚💚 It's an absolute pleasure to write for you guys, but also to express myself and get out these stories that live rent free in my head. 😘
(Btw: I totally respect that you're anonymous in my inbox, but feel free to comment on this and let me know who you are -- only if you feel comfortable! You absolutely made my day, hun. 💓)
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There is nothing wrong with being mindful of your own personal safety.
We all have a right to feel uncomfortable, and to act accordingly. It’s okay to cross the road to avoid others, I do this myself.
So too we should all be mindful of how we can make others feel safer when walking home at night – this is just basic common decency.
But what isn’t okay; is to fear monger, vilify and create a cultural panic around ‘men’ as a group.
To talk about men as if they’re monsters forever lurking the shadows; comparing experiences with men to walking through a room of snakes, or swimming in a shark tank, and yes, eating from a bowl of poisoned M&Ms.
This is not advocacy. This is ignorance, and hate.
Neither do such thought experiments help women ‘feel safe’ either. In fact, such terrifying analogies will likely make them feel the opposite.
Neither do you get to tell men (who are at a significantly higher risk), that they can walk the streets at whatever time they like, without fear or consequence – under the protective shield of so called ‘male privilege’.
Walking home at night is not an opportunity for you to inject your bigoted political ideas around men, or stoke fear and division.
I am tired of it.
I am tired of the endless pearl clutching.
I am tired of seeing the conversation of violent crime centred on highly privileged millionaire celebrity women, who are not at risk, and taken away from those who are – which is young, inner city, working class black boys.
I am tired of the conversation making no effort to understand what shapes violent crime, or how to reduce it, to instead fan the flames of a gender war.
I am tired of seeing tragic stories hijacked for political ends, to become yet another bludgeon to hit ‘yes all men’ with.
It is boring. It is divisive. And most of all, it doesn’t achieve anything.
So let’s look at the numbers, for a more reasonable and evidence based insight into violent crime.
--
Sources:
[1] https://tinyurl.com/5ah8vw34
[2] https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2019/crime-in-the-u.s.-2019/topic-pages/tables/table-39
[3] https://www2.census.gov/programs-surveys/popest/tables/2010-2019/national/asrh/nc-est2019-agesex.xlsx
[4] https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/crimeandjustice/articles/homicideinenglandandwales/march2022
[5] https://www.researchgate.net/publication/31065232_Gender_motivation_and_the_accomplishment_of_street_robbery_in_the_United_Kingdom
==
Xians will thank their god for everything good in their lives, but are pathologically incapable of blaming it for the bad things that happen. It's either "free will" or "Satan" or some other excuse. This is hypocritical.
If you blame men as a category for violent crime, then you can also give credit to men as a category for the decline of violent crime over the years. To not do so would also be hypocritical.
Or you just blame the extreme minority who are actually responsible.
And if you're still like, nope, changes nothing, then okay. But just do one thing for me. Type: "I'm justified crossing the road when I encounter..." Then go look up violent crime by race, pro rata it, and see how you feel about finishing that sentence. I dare you. If one would make you feel racist about making assumptions about and blaming all members of one group, then the other should also make you feel sexist about making assumptions about and blaming all members of another group.
In fact, such terrifying analogies will likely make them feel the opposite.
This is, of course, a feature not a bug. Women's fear is a valuable political and ideological commodity.
"... as we know from the war on drugs and the war on terror, for those in the business of providing protection, high threat levels are bread and butter. Likewise, for those in the business of healing race relations, racial division is your sworn enemy but your secret friend—so much so that wounding and healing become part of the same operation." -- Lyell Asher, "Why Colleges Are Becoming Cults."
The same thing applies here. The point of stupid analogies and stories is the same as the threat of hell: to control and manipulate, to gain authority by building dependence through fostering fear.
When someone is encouraging you to be afraid, stop for a moment and ask yourself, why. What do they get out of it?
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callmearcturus · 8 months
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1) i am interest, what does the "brachtian lens" mean in your MI post? 2) i did google pathologic and seems interesting but i don't know if its for me, would you recommend it? (you have good taste)
Brechtian, a Brechtian lens.
Okay so everyone brace yourself for the most unhinged take you've ever heard. I'm gonna caveat this up front by pointing out that I don't know if I actually myself ascribe to this read, it's just the kind of thing that happens when you are at work listening to the Codex Entry performance of Pathologic: The Marble Nest and the adderall hits just right.
I'm an undereducated pleb so I'm not going to go into the full history of Brecht, hit up any of your local pretentious media nerds for that. But one of the things associated with Brecht is the Alienation Effect. One of his primary concerns as a playwright was the idea that audiences were becoming complacent and were watching plays and observing art without internalizing everything. He had this idea that as the artifice of theatre became more and more immersive, as the Theatre of the Real so to speak became more seamless, audiences weren't actually connecting to what they were seeing. It's hard to impart wisdom and propose hard questions when the audience is just out here vibin', basically.
So Brecht's whole thing was to make the artificiality of the theatre as conspicuous and obvious as possible. There were a few tactics for this, including fun stuff like spoiling the plot of the story at the very start, casting very incongruous actors in specific roles, making the violence over the top to the point of being ridiculous, etc.
The point of these tactics was to jolt the audience out of their Vibe, to remind them they were watching a play, a performance. And in doing so, in theory, it would get the audience to pay more attention to the content of the play. When you are not passively absorbing the story, you will in theory give more consideration to what you are observing and actually THINK about what is being presented to you. Audiences tend to feel empathetic to characters in media, and you wanna jolt them out of that comfy zone.
Okay so how the fuck can I apply this lens to Mission Impossible? Besides being the most pretentious bitch on your dashboard obvsly.
One common interpretation of MI is that the movies are documentaries of their own productions. I have heard this idea parroted many times by people I broadly respect. Now... I don't personally ascribe to that take, but lets hypothesize for a moment that it's true, that there is a purposeful artificiality to MI. One of the things people point to with this theory is the fact that the first footage of MI: Fallout ever shared wasn't a trailer or teaser or anything.
It was footage of TC breaking his ankle doing that rooftop jump. It was a behind the scenes moment of ultra-reality that affected production. Because the hype cycle around MI is linked inextricably to "oh man what bullshit is TC gonna pull in THIS one" as a conscious marketing tactic.
It's accurate to say that yes, some people just go to see MI for the stunts. And the marketing knows it and promos it. There is an effort to focus on the physical, practical feats of the movie.
What I find interesting is that McQ and TC both share an ethos, that the only reason audiences give a shit about the stunts is because they are a vehicle of characterization. There is more overt writing and acting in MI than it gets credit for. It's like the stunts are a Loss Leader of the movie, yanno? Here is the big spectacle to get people to show up, and once people are in the theatre, you can talk to them.
So, what I'm positing is that if you believe that there is a heightened artificiality to MI, if you think its just a sequence of bombastic set pieces, if you think Ethan Hunt is just TC's alter ego, blah blah blah (again, not my belief) then it should in theory become difficult to sink into passivity with these movies.
If all that is correct, then there is a forced artificiality to MI that mimicks the Brechtian-style, leading to the Alienation Effect. Therefore, the text of the movies, what they are saying about, for random instance, the encroaching threat of uncontrolled AI in a digital world, that message should become more stark and harder for audiences to glaze their eyes over and miss.
And ALL OF THAT is the kind of bullshit you too can cogitate on if you inflict Pathologic on yourself and let it rewire your fucking brain! If you want a primer of what the fuck Pathologic is, look up hbomberguy's legendary Pathologic video, then come hit me up for further links.
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wowbright · 4 months
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I'm about halfway through La La Land. Really wanted to like it. I mean, it's a musical. I like musicals. But I didn't know much about it other than that.
Review/liveblog below the cut.
Started suspecting in the opening number that I might not like it, since the opening hinted that it would be an ode to the LA film scene. (Ooh, LA film people talking about how great LA film is--I'm not an actor, I'm not a filmmaker, hopefully this movie will have something more interesting to hook me in.)
Oh, good! It's also going to be about jazz!
Huh. Neither Emma Stone nor Ryan Gosling are very good singers. They are okay at dancing. Now, I hear that these days it's important that anybody in a musical be an actor first and the other things second. But if music and dancing are part of the storytelling, it's important that they be as strong as the acting IMO.
Okay. Now we're back to jazz. He's going to explain to her why jazz is so awesome. He takes her to a club.. Except ... Hmmm. This is uncomfortable. Why are we seeing jazz exclusively through the eyes of this white dude? We see black musicians, but they are just in the background. He plays at a club. Again, black people are furnishings. John Legend gets a line. Then he gets some more lines.
Around now this review of the first half of the movie turns into a live blog of the second half of the movie.
Yay John Legend sings. Alas it's on a stage and not part of the storytelling, but background to the storytelling. Idk I can't really watch this scene too closely because of the strobing lights.
(Aside: Where has she been getting the money to pay for the dresses, the high heels, and now the one woman show? There's a limit to how much you can put on a credit card, isn't there?)
The dialogue in this movie often feels stilted. Is this a stylistic choice?
Now they're arguing. He doesn't like the music he's been playing with John Legend, which is interesting, because it seems like he was enjoying it and she was the one who wasn't enjoying it. Is any of this real or they just like super enmeshed and codependent?
Eh I've completely divested myself emotionally from this movie. I'm going to start fast forwarding to see what happens. It's not like there's musical numbers anyway.
Photo shoot. More strobing lights.
Why do we see him perform, but we don't see her perform?
Oh look they're fighting again. Do I give a fuck? No.
I don't get it. Is it supposed to be a fun musical or A Star is Born?
We have gone half an hour without a genuine musical number.
Emma Stone is singing. This is a musical again! Too bad this song, like the others, is just so-so. (Idk maybe it was Kristin Chenoweth they would sound amazing?) I feel like this song is supposed to be the big emotional payoff for a strong storyline, but unfortunately the storyline hasn't been that strong. (I mean to be fair I have fast forwarded through like the last 20 minutes but that was because the story was already meandering and sucking.)
They break up. Unfortunately, I never bought their love story beyond the initial crush, so I don't care. (I'm not saying I don't believe that these people *could* love each other deeply. I'm saying that the story skipped over the part after the first kiss where they got to truly know each other and fall in love, so I'm not convinced of it.)
What the fuck? in the alternative "what if their lives have been perfect" montage, Ryan Gosling just waves off Keith like he's some kind of subordinate? Like, arguably one of the most talented musicians we have seen in this whole movie? Gross.
Then in the part that is an explicit visual ode to the golden age of movie musicals, when they are on that colorful soundstage resembling a cartoonish LA, I actually lose track of where Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling are mixed in with all the other dancers. That should not be possible if the correct cinematographic choices were made.
Also I think it should be illegal to market movies as romances when the characters don't end up together in the end.
So yeah I guess this movie got all the accolades because the people who give the accolades and awards see themselves in this story.
But seriously what the fuck now that I've seen this movie I feel like I've been lied to for the past six years.
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elijahlittle · 1 year
Note
I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.
So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.
Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic
( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)
pairing: julian/fem!reader fandom: trailer park boys tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy)  author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH. word count: 6,442
everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.
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The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.
But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.
"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is." 
"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one." 
And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.
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"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change." 
"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -" 
"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -" 
"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes." 
"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people." 
"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?" 
"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else." 
"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it." 
"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?" 
"Bubbles, look -" 
"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it." 
Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.
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"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that." 
"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out." 
"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."
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It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.
You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.
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"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady." 
"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."
"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag." 
"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -" 
"Come on Julian don't be like that -" 
"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to." 
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Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.
It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints. 
There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.
But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.
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"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing." 
You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.
"So you're Julian?"
Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.
"And how do you know that?" 
"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together." 
"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)." 
"Then what are you here to do, Julian?" 
There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.
"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all." 
You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us." 
Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.
"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ." 
"Why are you really here, Julian?" 
Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.
"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."
"I know." 
"And you know, family protects family." 
"I know." 
"And you know, I'd do anything for my family." 
"I know." 
"Anything." 
"What are you getting at?" 
"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you." 
"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here." 
"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -" 
"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?" 
Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you." 
"You want to get to know me?" 
"That's what I just said isn't it?" 
"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight." 
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Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else. 
Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited. 
"You got a hot date you're going to after this?" 
"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in. 
"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"
"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal." 
You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing." 
"Oh yeah? Where are you from?" 
"Southern United States." 
"What state?" 
"Texas." 
"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against. 
"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me." 
"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?" 
"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed." 
"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?" 
"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around." 
Julian could relate to that.
"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?" 
Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ." 
"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?" 
"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.
God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you. 
"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.
"Yeah." 
"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?" 
You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.
". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to." 
It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.
"What time do you get off work?"
. . .
Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ. 
"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious." 
"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?" 
"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -" 
The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.
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Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy. 
You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.
Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?" 
"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so." 
"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."
"Alright." 
You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.
. . .
You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -" 
"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here." 
Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.
Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.
"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you." 
"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you." 
". . . that's alright with me." 
You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds. 
"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.
"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you." 
"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.
You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't. 
Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.
"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.
"That's right." You respond gently.
"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.
"If you'll let me." 
If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you." 
If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt. 
"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you." 
"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.
Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.
His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.
Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.
Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.
"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on. 
"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"
Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.
"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -" 
Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say." 
The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath. 
"You good?" he asks.
You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." 
"Oh, God, Julian -" 
"Fuck, (name)." 
"Julian -" 
"(Name), (Name), (Name)." 
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"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian." 
"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?" 
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halorocks1214 · 7 months
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okay so i just steamrolled thru detective pikachu returns over the past 2 days because i was sick and had nothing else better to do and right after finishing it i went into the tags and WOWIE the negative reception is very large!! i do understand and even agree with some of it but i just felt the need to get my own thoughts down (again. sick with nothing better to do) so take a peek under readmore for very typical elongated halo ramblings about his fave video game series
for the record i never played the first game (only watched a few clips of it on youtube even) but i did go see the movie in theaters. just figured i'd mention this ahead of time so my favoritism is known and to prevent myself from coming off as a perfectly unbiased reviewer
BEWARE THE SPOILERS BTW
(post-editing note: it be long under here, you have been warned)
to start off YEAG this game is not worth 50 bucks! the story's pacing is all over the place and is very basic, the graphics are not particularly well refined, the characters' expressions do not fluctuate as much as they should (professor gordon in particular ;-; i felt so bad for him), and the voice acting outside of merloch and detective pikachu himself are kinda phoned in! it felt like an early 2000s 4kids dub for real. even the gameplay aspects themselves were rather meh in presentation; the button hitboxes were annoying to deal with and as cool as i thought the "main" mechanics were they were incredibly clunky and the tension they tried to build up in the "solving the case" climaxes was just Not It. there was absolutely no reason for the loading/pauses to take that long
(the pokemon gimmicks were okay tho. i would die for growlithe)
however, this isn't a problem specific to this game. while i enjoyed scarlet it was definitely not 60 bucks material (and when i went back to it for the teal mask i even went "good lord, did it always run this badly?"). i gotta give credit to detective pikachu, at least this game ran properly for the most part and never crashed on me lmao
while that doesn't negate the criticisms i previously mentioned i simply wanted to say that this is going to be a problem for as long as pokemon keeps making money. this isn't me finger-wagging at anyone in particular (i certainly have no room to talk, i did say i liked scarlet), i just wanted to say: yeah, pokemon has been A Mess
"but halo!" you cry. "you talked like the negative reception was overblown! what gives the giant negative paragraph??"
because much like scarlet, i still really enjoyed this game sdfjnsdk. how can i say that with confidence, though, when i largely agree that there were many, many issues to be had with its performance?
the word of the day: expectations
and perhaps this is where my bias comes into it. whenever i play a spinoff game (like snap or pokepark for instance), i don't really go into it for mindblowing gameplay and stories, i do it for the same reason this series has kept me enraptured for over a decade of my life:
the pokemon themselves!!
there are SO MANY little things that the regular games don't go into, and while i have my own headcanons and OCs i can play off of, it is so much fun to see actual canon material acknowledge certain things you've only ever theorized about!!
the whimsicott were so fun to watch float around, the article asking where a furret's tail began and ended made me laugh out loud, the fact that they went hard into the "slowpoke tails are eaten as food" thing, and the "let's not get into that right now" jokes about venonat hunting other pokemon and dusknoir eating souls LIKE. i LOVE when pokemon goes into its more "serious" aspects. i know main series games do it too occasionally but outside of offhanded mentions or pokedex entries, do they go this hard into them? if they do and i'm just stupid pls tell me about it i'll eat that shit up
being reminded of less-talked-about pokemon is always a plus and how can you not pop off when you see one of your faves included in the story? (INTELEON AND WOOPER I'LL KICK THEIR ASSES 4 U) it's simply fun immersing yourself into the world of pokemon and getting a glimpse of what it would be like to have pokemon walking down the street and how that affects everyday life! maybe the story is basic, but it served its purpose and i had fun going along with it!
perhaps it's just my mental illness talking, but walking around and seeing all the pokemon and THEN doing the quiz girl's quizzes was actually kinda nice! even if the puzzles weren't that hard, i can't lie and say i didn't pump my fist when i guessed where the mystery was going like with cramorant swallowing the jewel or how the passimian statues needed to hold different berries. overall, i just enjoyed being reminded of how much i know and what i love about this series
also, the ways they incorporated the movie were pretty baller. i liked how they didn't just do a repeat of the mewtwo plot from the movie and let me tell you, even tho i called it early on, i liked that my suspicions about the aurora drop being deoxys were confirmed!! (i suppose it's not that hard to guess bcs what other pokemon comes from space, but i just recently finished playing omega ruby again and i normally don't think about deoxys a lot so LET ME HAVE THIS)
plus "i heard they made a movie about the R case" MADE ME SCREAM. i thought they were just going to ignore the movie and do their own thing but then they DID THAT. incredible. you can call my expectations low (which is valid) but holy fuck
so the TLDR for those who want this: if you want a sweet but cliche game exploring the world of pokemon with a lot of funny moments + worldbuilding, then this game is perfect for you. if you want a game with a groundbreaking story with graphics to boot, then yeah, you're not gonna find it here. i've even seen people say their own nostalgia of the original spinoff wasn't enough to get them to enjoy this game, so take my words with a grain of salt
i would say just watch compilations of the game on youtube, but not every youtuber is gonna go fully exploring the game for all of its little details, so if you care about that kind of stuff, buying the game is your best bet. also if you don't care about that kind of stuff then you should just ignore the game altogether etc etc anYwAY
as for a TLDR for the TLDR: new pokemon snap is goated and i would say a more enjoyable experience than this game esp if you didn't like it so PLEASE buy it the game's only 30 bucks and you can throw treats at pokemon PLEASE it has so many sidequests and interactions you can partake in PLEASE i prommy i won't bite PLEASE stick your fingers in my enclosure PLEASE PLEASE PLE
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