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#i'm sorry but i find this incredibly hilarious
mossmx · 2 years
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Mr. Bateman saw a gay pride and immediately spiraled, had to go home in taxi to calm down, torture a puppy as self soothing, before he could go to work (late because of his gay panic)
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dumped by my therapist for being too mentally ill 🙃
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nothorses · 8 months
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"the public education system is intently evil and all teachers are abusive because it was the worst experience ever for me personally"
guys, look, I'm legitimately sorry that happened to you. that's fucked up. it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't be allowed to happen again to you or anyone else. I'm sorry.
public school was hard for me too, at times, and I'm still suffering the consequences for the harsh grading, the arbitrary deadlines, the hours of completely useless-to-me homework. I could name a few teachers who have been pretty fucking terrible. the fact that nobody considered getting me evaluated for ADHD has had an impact on my self image and academic success that I can't erase.
and also.
I grew up in an area where education, in particular, is incredibly progressive-leaning. educators are working really hard to create and try out education philosophies and practices that prioritize kids and their learning, rather than teachers and what they think kids should learn.
My sex ed was comprehensive, and came entirely from school. My gay sixth grade teacher taught me about HIV/AIDs in a useful, accurate way. In high school, I learned about the way orgasms work & I was prepared not to feel shame for normal stuff.
I learned that Communism was not what the USSR actually practiced, and what it really means. I learned about atrocities and, specifically, the genocide of indigenous people committed in/by the US. I learned about the military industrial complex, the school-to-prison pipeline, and I learned about manifestations of racism specific to my local area. I learned about Stonewall, and the intersection of the civil rights movement with gay rights and disability justice.
My creative writing teacher taught us about LSD, and the real reasons we shouldn't do it, after a hilariously ineffective assembly run by some local cops. He spoke gently, carefully, and emphatically about his friends and his own experiences. Later in the semester, he read us a story he wrote about two gay men finding each other in a deeply homophobic environment.
My sci-fi teacher made me feel safe & seen as a kid with "weird" interests. My US History teacher helped me research and put together a 10-page paper on the modern relevance and mission of Feminism. My government teacher made me feel appreciated for the work I put into the class, and the thought I put into what I said in it, even though he disagreed with a lot of it. My sixth grade teacher bought me books to read with his personal money, whichever ones I asked for. My third grade teacher made me feel safe. My science teacher in middle school made me excited for and passionate about science, and saw and nurtured the effort I put into her class.
A lot of stuff sucks, absolutely. But I am seeing new teaching methods being tried out all the time, and I am watching teachers get really excited when I teach their students about the roots of modern graffiti in US black history & to question property laws, and just...
There's hope. there are so many people doing so much work to make things better. so many people agree with you on what education should be, and are trying so fucking hard to put that into action, and so many public schools- not just teachers, but whole schools and even districts- are really doing that work. so much is getting better.
I had more to say, about necessary childcare and trusted adults and outside contacts and time away from abusive family. But like. Please just sit down and listen to more people on this, and please talk to educators and education professionals about what's really going on in this big huge world of philosophy, science, and practice.
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antimony-medusa · 1 month
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Anyways, prompted by nothing in particular (lies, prompted by a scroll through the tag this morning, that was bracing), I think it might be good to remember the things we like about other people in the community.
For example:
BBH fans are some of the most consistently hilarious posters on this sight. Absolutely fantastic mpreg posting, and the art is incredible with your guy on the whole spectrum from creechur to in drag. He has the range. I hope your guy gets pregnant in canon for you, you deserve it.
Tubblings, you post some of the most interesting meta concepts out of moments I have sometimes been in stream for and entirely missed. You are always watching and always ready to take a throwaway line and go "let's unpack that" and bring something heartbreaking out of it. I love getting out of stream and checking up on what Tubbo is up to and finding a) hilarious clips of the creator being out of pocket, b) some new analysis of a tubbo moment that turns me into the crycat meme.
Wilburians, your ability to take like nine streams and *continue to make content out of it* is inspiring. Your guy may not stream, but by god you are keeping the flame alive and you will be ready when he comes back. Please come back, Wilbur, there are so many men you could flirt with here. Leave New York alone, Wilbur, come back and talk to your daughter.
Mariana fans, not only do you have simply fantastic photos to share of your guy looking like a butch lesbian, those enrich my dash every time, but also I have laughed at jokes in a language I don't speak because your guy is so funny and the clips you are make and share are so good. The "mariana unpacks period products" is sincerely one of the funniest things I've ever seen, thank you so much for sharing it.
Etoiles fans, your art is SO GOOD. Like oh my god the Etoiles art is like 100% a banger EVERY TIME. Which is as it should be, your guy simply is that cool, but oh my god, the art is so good. I don't have more words here I am just flailing at the camera. The art is SO GOOD.
Bagi posters, your cubito is one of the most compelling actors on the server, for real, and you are so generous with translating whole speeches done in languages I don't speak. I sat just transfixed during that whole conversation with Cellbit after they discovered their relationship, because the emotion in the argument was so real, and then I scrolled down and found a whole translation and went oh thank you, now I know what people were saying. I'm sorry Empanada lost a life, but your creator's response to it was one for the record books in terms of emotional reaction, and I have seen some fully incredible animations made of it. You take amazing content and make something even cooler out of it, and I'm always so impressed but what you're up to.
Now you go. Tell me something you appreciate about another sub-community.
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tossawary · 5 months
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One of the funniest aspects of the "Hades" video game is that when I first started playing, I was like, "Hm, this protagonist speaks in a very edgy / snarky way. I don't know if I vibe with it yet." And then it turned out that Zagreus is actually also kind, polite, and considerate, a generous, respectful, loving person who strives to help people when he can, optimistic despite an incredibly grim and painful situation, and snarky in the way that he's understandably a little bitter about it all and also trying to have some fun with it because he's hilarious.
He just fucking hates his father. He and his Father are having it OUT with each other right now and they're making it the entire Underworld's problem.
Zagreus speaking to pretty much anyone else is all "Sir" and "Ma'am" and "Is there anything I can do to help?" He's not flawless by any means. He's fumbled some of his interpersonal relationships before, he can be judgey and nosy and bitter, and it's obvious that he's still finding himself, but he's doing his best! And it's so funny to have him talking to one person like, "Hello! It's so nice to meet you. Please have the best possible day here in the Underworld and excuse me while I'm off to die again!"
And then he turns around to talk to Hades and he's like, "Hey, Father! Sorry for DRIPPING BLOOD all over your paperwork like this. I just died! How's your day going RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE?"
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erideights · 6 months
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Little pieces here and there (5)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, three, four
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)
A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)
Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!
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"Say it."
"Nope."
"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.
"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."
''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear. 
In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."
''Anything?''
''Anything.''
Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath. 
As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.
''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''
That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.
''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.
‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''
''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.
''Ouch''
"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''
''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.
There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.
It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.
Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.
              …
And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time. 
They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.
"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."
As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.
It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.
And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.
Goddamnhim.
"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."
"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."
"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."
Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden. 
Is he actually that smart?
"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."
"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''
He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.
The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.
And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.
But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.
He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.
There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.
''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’
What.
He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.
He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''
''Including me''
''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”
''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.
(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.
In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.
''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''
Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.
(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.
The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.
Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.
Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.
It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.
Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.
But does she want it to pass? To fade away?
Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.
Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.
But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?
Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.
Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.
Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .
If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.
It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.
She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.
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fictionismyreality3 · 3 months
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Hi! I love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something where it’s Bradley and the reader’s wedding and for the sendoff they do something like this causeI thought its was so cute. If you can’t that’s totally fine but thanks anyway! 🫶
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyRCdL3uZL8/?igsh=Zmx5NWd6aW1rOXRn
A Day to Remember
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Tags: Rooster x reader
Notes: hi babes!! Thank you much for the request, sorry it took so long, school is kicking my ass 😅
Warnings: weddings, romance and everything that comes with it
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"No. There's no way I'm gonna have oragami F-16s thrown at my head on my wedding day." You laughed incredulously. 
When Bradley had proposed, you thought your life couldn't get any better. You had a dream job, a dream man, and friends that had been exactly what you needed, even though they were unexpected. Telling the squad went exactly how you expected, everyone was more excited than they had been when Roo and Maverick survived the Dagger mission. But no one had been more thrilled than Phoenix. When Pheonix asked to help plan the wedding, you were hesitant at first. 
You had first-hand experience with her lack of party-planning skills. Somehow, even though she was incredibly organized during her work, the woman had an utterly disastrous record with parties. 
And your wedding was going to be a pretty big party. 
But how could you say no to Phoenix? She had been there for you through everything. From showing up at your door with pints of ice cream when your favourite character died in the show you were watching to going full Godzilla on the new recruits that tried to hit on you. It was nearly impossible to say no to her when she pulled her puppy dog eyes out and started reciting every favour you owed her. 
So you agreed.
"C'mon, please? It will be cute, I promise." She pleaded as you continued to put your toppings on your pizza. 
It was Wednesday, which Phoenix had decided was the designated wedding planning day. She would show up with a bottle of whatever you guys wanted to drink and you would make the pizza, frozen to accommodate for the cooking skills neither of you possessed.
"Look, I already let you get away with the abundance of mason jars, I'm not getting divebombed by a bunch of the planes that we fly." You grinned. 
Rolling her eyes, Phoenix conceded, and that was how a lot of the planning was settled. Phoenix would bring up hundreds of crazy ideas, and you would filter through her overly enthusiastic party planning to find the good ones. You and Bob would rein her in whenever she got carried away, especially when she brought up the idea of having a literal rooster at the wedding. 
"I think it's hilarious," Rooster said as you two got ready for the day. He came up behind you, turning you around to face him as he lifted you up onto the bathroom counter. Your hands automatically came to rest on his shoulders, fitting perfectly just like the two of you had when you met. 
"You have one already and you can't seem to get enough, honey." He continued grinning. 
You swatted at his chest, giggling as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, following a path that only he knew down to your collarbone. You tilted your head back to give him access to your soft skin that only he would ever earn, and your words came out in a breathy sigh. 
"I think you just-" Your train of thought halted as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. "You just like the idea of a little Roo running around, you brute." 
The rest of that morning consisted of him trying to make said 'little Roo' happen, not that you were complaining. 
The wedding was 3 months away and you were choosing your dress. Payback had insisted you go to the boutique that his grandmother used to run, saying that you could even get a dress for free. You tried to urge against it, but after his granda met you she wouldn't hear a 'no'. 
"Oh, it's so nice that my Rueben made some friends. Let me tell you about the time he.." 
So you agreed. 
Everything was ready and Phoenix was running around like a madwoman trying to orchestrate the chaos of venues, cakes and flowers into one magnificent symphony. It was 3 days out from the wedding and you had gone with your bridesmaids to the hotel Pheonix had rented to have some much-needed girl time. Rooster and the rest of the guys had done the same, probably off partying somewhere under Mav's watchful eyes. 
As you sat getting your nails done, the colour a baby blue that Rooster had picked out, you continued to poke at Phoenix for the details of the wedding. She had demanded to keep you out of the loop when it came to the majority of the venue decoration she had selected. Even Rooster wouldn't spill when you called him that night. 
"I don't wanna face her wrath, honey. You know-" He began. 
"Hey! No talking to the groom. It's bad luck!" Phoenix said as she plucked the phone from your hand.
When your wedding day finally came, you were a ball of nerves. As you got blindfolded and brought up to bridal sweet to get ready, you could only imagine what combinations of decor she had concocted. In your mind, you replayed the time she tried to throw a Christmas party for the squad that resulted in one too many poppers, a fireplace, and a whole lot of firetrucks. 
"Ready, kid?" Maverick's voice broke you out of your thoughts. 
Taking one last look in the mirror at yourself, the dress you had picked out making you look like a princess, you nodded and took his arm. As the two of you finally stopped in front of the doors that stood between you and your future, your heart swelled with anticipation. The sound of Bruno Mars 'Just the Way You Are' being played on the piano filled your ears, and Mav straightened where he stood, looking down at you with a proud smile. 
"That's our cue, kid. You got this." He whispered to you as the doors opened. 
All at once every ounce of fear or worry you had been holding on to dissipated. 
Phoenix had outdone herself. 
White Calla Lilies hung from the ceiling, surrounded by fairy lights and other perfectly placed bobbles. Every table was decorated with a centrepiece of forget-me-nots and daisies. The teary smiles of your family and friends stared at you in happiness. Even the mason jar candles sat in just the right amounts. 
Your eyes locked on Bradley, whose tears were already flowing, and you walked down the aisle without hesitation. 
Mav handed you off to Bradley, muttering a few protective words before going to take his seat as the priest began to speak. 
"Hey, you." You whispered to Bradley.
"Hey, hun." He choked out through tears. 
Both of you stood at the altar, grinning ear to ear at each other. Your vows to each other made sure there wasn't a dry eye left in the room. 
"You may now kiss the-" The priest began to say.
He didn't even get a chance to finish before Rooster already had his hands on either side of your face and was slamming his lips to yours. He was kissing you so hard your hands shot out to hold the lapels of his suit jacket so your swooning didn't cause you to fall over.
The crowd erupted in cheers, and you could hear the distinct sound of Hangman and the other guys hooting and hollering as Bradley poured every single ounce of love he had for you into the kiss. 
You had your first dance to 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough', and before you knew it you and Rooster were being whisked away by Phoenix for your send-off. 
The same send-off that she had refused to tell you about. 
"Just don't get mad!" She said quickly.
"Nat? What do you mean? What did you do?" You looked to Rooster for help but he was wearing the same conspiratorial grin as Phoenix. 
Before you could say anything else, she was already pushing both of you outside. It took a second for your eyes and ears to adjust to the sight and sound of your cheering loved ones who were lining the steps of the venue. It took even longer to process what you saw in each of their hands. 
Instead of baskets of rice, everyone there was holding what looked like a piece of paper. You were about to ask Bradley what was going on, but then something hit you in the side of your head. Startled, you went to turn to see what hit you, only to be greeted with the sight of a mischievous Phoenix holding two origami planes. 
Two F-16s to be exact. 
Before you could react, you and Rooster were getting pelted by a rain of paper F-16s. You burst out laughing as he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the limo so quickly you barely got a chance to wave goodbye to everyone. 
You let out a sigh of contentment as you slipped into the limo, looking back at the perfect venue and perfect friends who had planned it all. 
Okay, maybe you'd let Phoenix plan every party you had. 
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fillinforlater · 8 months
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Monday of Appreciation: Part 100
Hello everyone, Smite here!
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100
Let's celebrate this big number and even bigger achievement with a massive a mount of stories that I have compiled over a bunch of weeks now. 10 in total by 9 writers including all kinds of idols (most are meta, sorrry (not sorry)).
However, first off, I want to say thank you to the interest in support this series has gathered. Thank you all very much for liking and reblogging and sometimes even commenting, it means the world to me. Most of the times, I regard this series as a big success.
I need to say it again though that this is the final regular MoA post. For 100 weeks straight I have gathered between 3 and 11 stories from our community, the only reason/motivation being: Appreciation to those that I really like and want to support. Sadly sometimes, MoA has been seen as something like an seal of approval or rather the "not-inclusion" as a seal of disapproval. This has never been the case or my intention.
With that said, MoA is not dead and will never be dead until I'm dead. New parts will randomly pop up and I will gush over another way idol X has been... written. Until then, stay awesome and feel free to go back to the older parts of this series.
These are the final 10 stories on the regular series of Monday of Appreciation:
-1-
@gangplanksorenji: Do you think you are forgiven? ft. Sakura
Reading smut like this and knowing it was written by Orenji of all people still makes my mind boggle. This is unfiltered smut, set up perfectly (especially with the homage to LSFM's latest comeback). All in all great, especially with the non-focus then back-focus on Sakura.
-2-
@coldfanbou: Culmination ft. Somi
This fic is the finale of the ultimate Somi-bimbo-self-sex-slave series. No, I'm serious, you couldn't go further if you wanted to. It also explains why OC is so hesitant to go after her. Also, NTR, but it's so over the top that it kinda flew under my radar. Somi's hotness is melting our minds, isn't it.
-3-
@lustspren: California Love ft. Soyeon, Minnie
The first time I saw these outfits, I kneeeew someone HAD to write a fic about them, either idol x idol or include an OC and oh boy, lustspren delivered. This has quite the excessive set up, all edging leading up to that hotel room scene that does it all justice. To say it with the words of Mister Smith: "That's hot."
-4-
@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 1 ft. aespa
Exquisite! Charming, funny and utterly drenched in lewdness while also shoving absurdity in your face the entire time. This perfectly encapsulates @smuttysabina's writing style. It's blunt yet still a bit teasing and I like how the descriptiveness is subtle enough to keep you on edge. Literally.
-5-
@ggidolsmuts: Xiaoting's Shouting ft. Xiaoting
This fic has a chinese version and though I cannot speak of the quality of that version, this one definitely has it. One of the many, many great stories you can find in Ddeun's masterlist. Damn, now I can't decide if I want an obedient plaything Xiaoting or a demanding loud Xiaoting (haha, Xiaothing or Loudting (I'm so funny (right?)))
-6-
@tothosewhoyearnforit: A Million Dollars ft. Karina
Ah, the great switch life. Though you might not have a million dollars (sadge), the ability to switch around your behavior to accommodate to your partners wants and needs in the moment... man that is everything. Okay, no, someone incredible hot like Karina, now that is everything. Just like the OC in the next story, I'd pay more than a million to get Karina.
-7-
@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 2 ft. Karina
Oh, look! It's the second chapter to the story we already had! This time we get the bouncy girl in the shower as she bravely strikes a deal with us. Will she succeed though? You better find out yourselves (no really, this will be in the test tomorrow).
-8-
@existslikepristin: Sowon's gig ft. Sowon
Sorry, ELP, I had to put a name on this hilarious mess of a fic. Maybe it does not really deserve a name, but I'm all for it to get one. Hell, even my name is terrible (at least it does not spoil the twist). So yeah, if y'all have like 29,4 seconds on your hand, this is the stuff for you. Damn, why do I love your writing so much?
-9-
@okaylikesmomo: Chapter 4: Sauna ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura
I love how unhinged this is if you ignore all the context and previous chapters. It makes me think if my multi-chapter series' feel this crazy if one just starts in the middle. Crazy or not, sex sex sex. Although it is okay (writing) sex, neither the writing nor the sex are just 'okay'. LSFM really is that hot and makes us crave for more steamy sex sex sex. What a mess (-.-).
-10-
@iznsfw: Above the law, (under you) ft. Tzuyu
What else can I say except: IZ GOAT?! I guess so, every angle, idea, set up and kink this incredible qt has written has worked flawlessly. I rule that you are guilty of being way too fucking good at this and sentence you to write more sentences to make your sentence longer so more sentences lead to new masterpieces. Please.
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Guys, that's it. With a final bow the curtains fall. Until next time. Ciao!
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grlazul · 11 months
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affections
some of the ways they show their affection for you. housewardens version
notes: bit of angst at the end of malleus' section, i'm quite sorry guys.
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RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
when most think of riddle, patience is not the first thing that comes to mind. this is because they don't have the privilege of seeing the riddle you get to see. you had been studying with him for around an hour and a half. for the past half hour you had been stuck on a certain topic, no matter how many chapters of the textbook you read or how many times he tried to explain it, you just couldn't wrap your head around it. had you been anyone else, riddle would be incredibly frustrated, and perhaps a bit desperate for them to get a grip, but you were not just anyone. so he sat with you throughout it, vowing to help and find the perfect study method. ace and deuce gawk at his gentle behavior, a stark contrast to the yelling they endured earlier. his favoritism towards you is outrageous, not that you mind.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
is tired, very often. he isn't always asleep when he's seen laying around. but can't seem to find the will to get up and do something. despite his constant fatigue, he will always find ways to remind you that he loves you. forcing you to lay with him is one of them, he'll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck before asking you to speak. it can be about anything really, most of the time you'll talk about how your day went. he always listens, his eyes are shut but you know he's invested because of the never ending remarks he'll make as you go on. someone was bothering you? he's just called them the most hilarious name you can think of, not wanting you to be bothered by such a lowlife. he doesn't have to see you to know what expression you have on your face. it's quite amazing really, he knows just what to say and when to say it, and even knows when he should stay quiet. it's quite simple, really. but he loves it, though not nearly as much as he loves you. (a/n almost called him eepy while writing his part haha)
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul is very devoted to his work, but when it comes to you, he is almost tempted to throw it away. he is very aware that his constant giving of gifts does not make up for his lack of presence on most nights. which is why he will put everything aside once in a while and dedicate an entire day to you, his lovely pearl. whatever you want, he'll do it with you. it's only fair after he has spent many a night cramped up in his office dealing with contract after contract. he knows your relationship isn't perfect, but he's eternally grateful that you're willing to work with him through it. one of his favorite things to do is when you decide to have a movie night with him. he'll help you build a fort, make snacks, anything you feel is important to the activity, and will then wrap all his limbs around you while the two of you watch. it's quite endearing really, a normally serious businessman tossing the entire persona for his one and only. don't tell the tweels please... they'll never let him hear the end of it.
KALIM AL ASIM
when on earth is he not showing all of his love for you?? it would honestly be hard to find an answer to that question... kalim is always in your corner (almost literally, he would spend every second with you if he could but i think jamil would lose it if he hears one more nickname such as 'pookie muffin' or 'moopsy'...) however i think his favorite way to show you he loves you is taking you for rides on his magic carpet, cliche i know but it's cute! of course all his gifts mean a lot to him, you're beginning to develop your own mini treasure room in ramshackle for goodness sake, but the time you spend with him cannot compare to any riches. if you're scared of heights, he'll work his way around it! it may not seem as romantic when you're only two feet off the ground, but when it's with kalim, that doesn't really matter.
VIL SCHOENHEIT
now, vil is very busy. and unlike azul, he doesn't have the same amount of control over his schedule. this can be a bit problematic when it comes to your relationships but he always manages to find ways to include you in whatever he's doing. you've never been on the set of a movie? now you have, several times in fact. the directors begin to expect your arrival with his after a while and you eventually get your own chair to watch your star do his magic on set. if you ever find yourself feeling unwelcome or uneasy, he knows how to pull strings. he will promise to ruin anyone who dare to make his partner feel as if they are not welcome. and if you ever feel as if you want to do the kinds of things he does, you better believe this man is getting you in contact with anyone and everyone he can (and this is vil... it's a lot of people). but at the end of the day, he just loves to unwind with you. to fall asleep with you in his arms is bliss, he can't get enough.
IDIA SHROUD
idia is without a doubt, one of the most closed up people on the planet. to see him outside of his room is a marvel in itself, but to see him with his significant other in a cafe? one would have to double check their vision. he really can't believe the lengths he goes for you. to sit in such a place, surrounded by so many normies is honestly a nightmare! he's thankful you let him choose where the two of you should sit, bringing you to the most closed off booth in the space. you'll definitely have to order for him, it's the least you can do after forcing him to come to such a place! jokes aside, he really does try for you. of course he would rather sit in his room holed up playing video games while the both of you chat, but he knows that's just a fantasy. start easy with him, small gatherings first, perhaps you can build his courage up enough to bring him to a bigger place like the mall... oh the things he does for you prefect...
MALLEUS DRACONIA
you were malleus' first friend, and now his first lover. needless to say, he would do practically anything for you. he truly feels that no action, words, or items can express his feelings for you. even the most passionate of poems cannot do him justice. despite his frustration for not being able to properly express his feelings, he does enjoy gift giving. tiny trinkets, photographs, letters, you name it, he has given it to you in some variation. if you collect them and keep them somewhere he will just absolutely melt. you truly are everything to him. something he enjoys very much is when the two of you go into the forest or the meadow to find plants and other things to give to each other. it makes him so giddy, preparing something for you while you do the same. he's practically giggling and skipping as he looks for more flowers for you. once you give him your small bouquet or flower crown, or whatever you have created, he's delighted! he casts a spell that will make them last forever. if only he could do the same to you...
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moonchild-in-blue · 17 days
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Hey, remember that time II kissed Vessel's arm? Okay byyeeeee :D
Well HELLO GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO
(yes i did see this before i went to bed but i was wayyy too eepie to reply)
I hope you know this has just set the mood for my entire day so. I'm gonna be extra yearning and soft and whiny 👍 Sorry about that guys, I'm a pathetic wet cat of a person 😞
He could've hugged him. He could've high fived. He could've done that guy thing where they slap each other's butts and it's totally platonic and wholesome and hilarious.
AND YET. Mr. Daddy Twofoot (cmon guys, catch up on the name) KISSED??? HIS ARM??? On the sensitive soft part too?????
Like. Okay. Yeah yeah, the boyfriends, etc etc. But let me be actually serious for a second here.
(hello this turned out to be way longer and sappy than i intended so)
Do you see how effortless that was? He didn't hesitate for a second. How often do you see two guys (who I'm assuming are straight) be this affectionate with each other? A kiss on the inner arm is *such* a tender, intimate gesture, regardless of gender/sexuality - a type of action that is not usually expected between straight men.
And I don't know, I find it incredibly endearing and important to see that, as much as they do all that funny sexy stuff for the fans (and for themselves too - they seem to have so so much fun), these type of actions seem to be a part of their regular off-stage interactions. You can feel how genuinely good friends they all are.
And in the case of Vessel and ii, the founders of Sleep Token and the major force behind it all - how surreal and incredible it must be for them to get to experience all of this together. To see their hard work paying off. To stand proudly in front of literal thousands of people side by side with your best friend??? HELLO???
It's such a small thing, but I carries so much weight ya know? Like yeah dude, I love you and I'm proud of you, and you did a wonderful job. Isn't it SO touching???
I just LOVE to see it. Men who are vulnerable and affectionate around each other, who are comfortable in it, who shows us that yes, platonic friendships and pda are beautiful and important and in no way make you any less of a men. Which is something a LOT of dudebros in the metal scene would benefit in knowing.
I just. I don't know bro. Vessel x ii interactions mean the whole word to me. I was just talking with someone a few days ago of just how far Vessel has come in his music journey, and even within Sleep Token, the difference between One days and now is. Nothing short of astronomical. It feels almost miraculous, yet it is anything bUT, because we know how much effort V and ii put into making the music we so love. And of course iii, although not part of the creation process, has been with them from the beginning as well.
Can you imagine how overwhelmingly awesome and scary it must be for them?? And what are the odds of after a few years of changes, they somehow found the perfect person to complete them? SO MUCH SO, that you can see just how close iii and iv are BY THEIR MIRRORING ATTIRES?? HELLOOOOO ???? SOULMATES FR FR
Aaaa I feel like I'm going off on a huge tangent, and I am stopping now before I bring up the German Rituals and Wembley. December was a wild month omg I have not recovered yet.
I just!!! My heart!!! I love them. Vessel PLEASE I have been begging on my hands and knees, PLEASE PLEASE give your drummer a smooch omg he deserves it poor guy has the twinkliest prettiest eyes ever how can you NOT 🥺✨💙
Anyways. Yes, I do remember. Good gif 🙂👍
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milknhonies · 2 months
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Wails of Wedded Bliss
Chapter 4 || Masterlist || Chapter 6
Chapter Summary: After defending your housekeeper, Sherlock takes a rough hand to your backside....
Pairing: Sherlock Homes x wife!reader
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Spanking, Domestic Abuse, rough kissing.
Word Count: 9k
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Author Notes: I am sorry this took forever to post but I'm lucky and glad to say I should be moving to a new rental home in a month. Yayyy!!!
Inspiring Song: Partita for violin n°2 by Bach.
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6:30am Wednesday 7th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England
With baited breath you hurriedly rushed to push your husband out of the line of the door way. You shoved Sherlock and with some surprise, he moved. He rolled his eyes and pressed his back to the wall beside the door.
You feared an inevitable future. Mrs Hudson would enter your dwellings. And see your husband...how ironic for you to be scared of something meant to be.
Mrs Hudson knocked again and you heard the handle of your door twist.
A strike of horror whipped you into action. You fluttered to the cracking door as the old woman announced in a hushed whisper.
“Y/N dear, are you awake? Your mongrel of a groom is gone if you would like to come out now!”
Your fingers clenched into fists behind you and the offended snicker from Sherlock from next to you beside the opening door didn’t help your embarrassment. He knew you didn’t approve of his past behaviours but to be made apparent how much you deplored him was humiliating.
You forced a tight smile for your landlady as she took a step closer into the doorway. How you wished you could’ve asked her to leave, but how could you, it would seem rude after all her kind hospitality and assistance.
She greeted you with a happy wink while still under the belief her original tenant was no longer in the house. But her eyes did flutter after she glanced you up and down, surprised by your prepared dressed state.
It was a unspoken question, ‘Who helped dress you?’
You gently interpreted aloud, “Oh...he is still here...and...” your lips became dry. Why did Mrs Hudson have to be so invasive as landlady even if under pure intentions?
The old woman grew pale with her wide grey gaze. Her lips smacked open. You looked over your shoulder and gasped with a jump at the ridiculous state of your husband standing directly behind you, with a naked torso.
“Mrs Hudson,” he smirked, “Good Morning,” he said rather proudly with his hands settle on his finely shaped hips. His tongue lazily licked his bottom tongue with his eyebrows raised.
He found the lewdness incredibly hilarious. ‘Great, my husband is not only arrogant, rude and mean- he is also childish one would gather.’
“Quite...” she said as colour grew quick to her face in the shade of a wet red rose. Her wrinkled throat tightened. Her fingers gripped at her apron while her lips pursed disapprovingly.
Your husband briskly moved you aside by holding your hips and directing you out of his path before he strutted out from your door frame entrance.
You and the elder woman did perhaps inspect the curve of his bottom in his trousers for too long as he swaggered back to his bedroom. A plump arse in a husband has never been known as a requirement, but for the advice of a future generation you were sure to note it.
Mrs Hudson somewhat breathless and at a disadvantage twisted her head back and leant to your ear inquisitively, “What happened?” her eyes darted back and forth.
It was then as you saw her forehead shrink, you realised, she was concerned for your safety, for your health and wellbeing.
You could only imagine the distress the dear Mrs Hudson experienced when she found you in a puddle of blood on your bed only two days prior.
Your own lips parted and you raced to find the words. You struggled and stuttered to explain how on earth you came to lay in your bed with your own husband. It felt challenging and at half your conscience considered lying for the sake of modesty and privacy. It shouldn’t have been so difficult to say; you and Sherlock were bloody husband and wife. A small laugh in the back of your head jingled.
“Well...ugh...as husband and wife we...came to an agreement.”
Your fingers came up to touch your lips. A small smile was upon them. How else could you say your husband showed you terror and bliss all in one night. You knew it was not custom for a groom to tie up his bride and ravage her to a mindless state of ecstasy.
It had been so terrifying and exciting. The debate crossed your mind, ‘should I fear him, or submit with praise?’
He had treated you so awfully until this morning. You raced to wonder what had changed his mood so speedily in your favour...’Was it the deal? The debasing?’ In which you relinquished your pride and dignity to him that you already had so little of.
Her eyes narrowed at your wording, “An agreement?”
Those shrivelled pink lips settled in the shape of a pondering ‘o’ for sometime until Sherlock stuck his head back out from his rooms while buttoning a white shirt.
“We fucked Mrs Hudson,” he bluntly muttered startling you both in the midst of shock. It was uncouth to swear as he did, especially as a gentleman, especially in front of women. He was so unlike his high browed brother.
The older woman clicked her heels together and sputtered, “Sherlock!”
“-now if you aren’t too busy gossiping with my wife,” he sneered, cutting Mrs Hudson off, “I would very much like a cup of tea!”
“Well I never-!” the elder woman crossly huffed with her blushed face still blooming.
Your girlish grin disappeared. There he was. The rude and demeaning man.
Your fingers clenched to fists. The disrespect to Mrs Hudson was an insult to you. After all these hours in this new home, this woman sacrificed her time to help you. She did not deserve foul treatment from your husband even if he had always behaved that way to her in the past. You were now living here and wouldn’t stand for it.
You couldn’t allow this treatment to continue, “Sherlock!” both of their heads snapped at your raised tone, “Do not address Mrs Hudson in such a manner again!”
The man deemed London’s greatest detective looked bewildered, as if you slapped the man himself in the face. That masculine confidence fleeted from his face. Your landlady fluttered her eyes at your outburst. Perhaps you appeared aggressive, your knuckle pressed to your lips.
Your chest felt tight. You were panting. Yes, you had yelled so loudly it would be no question if those on the sidewalk below in Baker Street heard your bellowing.
You were angry. Resentful. The spell of his magical touch and charm had worn quickly off. Back you were to being a forthright wife.
His tongue stabbed the inside of his cheek. His eyes narrowed. Whatever was he thinking?
“Very well,” he said and he nodded once, “Mrs Holmes.”
He began fiddling with the buttons of his trousers, tucking his shirt in.
You lowered your hand and placed them on your exaggerated hips.
You gave a little huff to add on, “And say please to Mrs Hudson when asking for tea.”
Mrs Hudson glanced between you both before scurrying back to the dining table where breakfast had been so generously laid out. She clearly was smart enough to know not to intervene in this rising argument.
The smell of cinnamon and porridge filled your nose. Mrs Hudson quietly poured you a cup of tea. From the corner of your eye you watched the steam rise.
“For god sake woman,” Sherlock grumbled with exasperation and waved his hand in front of himself, “She is merely the housekeeper.” 
You stood between them and wagged a finger at him, “And landlady.”
He sighed with annoyance and rolled his eyes. His lips pinched. Accepting his defeat in his stubbornness he spun on his heels and re-entered your room. He left his door open.
You took a step forward and remembered yesterday how cross he had been when you entered his space without permission...’permission be damned.’
You swallowed down that cold prickling fear and followed him in and took note on how he sat on the trunk with deviant tools within. He hiked up his trouser legs up. He sighed at your presence- not fully annoyed but not fully relieved either. 
You knew where he kept his shoes and what type after your savage pilfering clean the day before. You selected for him a dark navy cravat to match his chosen blazer he pointed out to you. You selected a golden pin and black dress boots for him.
He cleared his throat and muttered a soft “Thankyou,” as you handed him the cravat and pin while you silently knelt to the floor and began slipping on his garters, socks and shoes onto his feet.
He looked like stone. His face unreadable. You could not tell if he was annoyed, amused or just plain bored by his lack of emotion.
Maybe you had shut him up and taken him down a peg. Indeed, perhaps you had really humiliated him in front of Mrs Hudson to the point of expressionless silence.
6:40am Wednesday 7th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England
He wasn’t sure how to feel about this. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or if he was to be frightened by it.  Your quick submission, your gentleness after such a loud scolding. You had such a voice. You had a fearsome outburst that you used said voice with.
So seeing you play demure wife with the snap of second put him on a strange edge...what game were you playing at?
He sat back on his hands and stared at you struggling to button up his buttons he did the only thing he knew how in regards to people. He analysed you.
Your hands were clammy...sweaty and warm indicating either your heighten blood from your outburst or the after affects of your embarrassment when Mrs Hudson discovered his existence in your bedroom.
Your breath was slightly ragged. You were nervous he decided.
He glanced at how every few moments you wriggled your hips. Very faintly. Disguised as an attempt to readjust your sitting position, whereas in fact...you appeared to make soft rocking motions...
Oh, he smiled internally...you were aroused and embarrassed. You were helpless and desperate. Poor little lamb.
He looked around his room and back to you on the floor. You both were in rather a similar pose last night before he blackmailed you into sucking his cock. He twitched his head to the side and wondered how scandalous and quick he could pull out his cock and shove it past your teeth; all the while Mrs Hudson stood only a few feet away past the door with her back turned to you both.
How naughty...
And your sweet eyes looked up from his shoes...if only you weren’t sitting on your skirts. He mourned for all he waited more than ever was sneak it  beneath your shift and between your thighs.
‘How charming,’ he larked in his mind, ‘Polishing my shoe with her pussy.’ Your hairless pussy in fact.
Sherlock didn’t not hate body hair. But rather he liked the satisfaction of making pain in doing something as torturous as ripping hair from a sobbing woman. And the softness was something that never ceased amazement.
He did once mention to John before his comrade met Mary how on occasion, cunnilingus on a hairy woman was comparable to kissing a man on the face. John, he recalled, laughed at Sherlock and announced he had never eaten a cunt, so why bother eating one covered in hair... now it was all the man could ever speak of when it came to his wife that he worshipped.
When you finished folding his trouser paints so that mud would not soak the hem, he leant forward and place a finger under your chin.
Your pupils flickered. Oh yes. You were definitely aroused, he concluded.
And he felt somewhat generous. He cupped your cheek and lifted you higher to your feet.
“Come here,” he whispered.
He almost burst out laughing watching how your eyes fluttered. His thumb scraped over your lip. He pinched your cheeks and pulled you into his face before he slowly stood off his bed.
He pushed his tongue inside and moaned. With how you tried to return the movement he smirked. You were desperate and he knew you wanted to please him. He flicked around and sucked your bottom lip.
Pulling back you were panting loud and your eyes wide.
He gave you passion, so what were you to do with that?
“Now Mrs Holmes, go sit down for breakfast,” he purred, “I will be out shortly.”
His cock was getting hard and he needed to give himself a moment or else he felt compelled to fuck you right there, Mrs Hudson could rightfully fuck off down stairs if she didn’t want to see the show....
•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•≫≪•❈•
6:46am Wednesday 7th May 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England
On weak, shaky legs you turned away from him. Your hand stumbled along his door frame. You could feel the hot buzz still on your lips. You felt hot all over. Behind you, he softly shut his door. You needed to sit down and so you reached out to your side of the dining room. You hobbled into your chair and reached for your warm tea.
“Well you must’ve done something right,” the landlady chuckled under her breath, wiping her hands lazily on her apron, “I haven’t seen him so caught off guard since his mother last visited. Put him in his please, she did.”
You nodded slowly. Sherlock Holmes would always be a true enigma. You sipped carefully. He kissed you with great heat, after you had scolded him? It made no sense.
“Is it within the best interest that I remain rather than leave you alone with him?” Mrs Hudson whispered as she saw your gaze staring off at the nothingness of the room.
Your eyes fluttered to focus and you smiled up at the kind woman. You squeezed her hand and shook your head.
“No, I am sure I can manage my husband Mrs Hudson,” you rose and carefully took the tea pot from her hands, “I think I shall pour his tea.”
Your land lady peered at you suspiciously as she relinquished the china. She smiled grimly and nodded before walking off and departing the apartment.
Sherlock wasn’t so scary now that you knew he wasn’t cross. And surely...if anything occurred, Mrs Hudson might intervene? Yes?
So where the hell was she last night? The thought wasn’t really your own, it just came up in the back of your mind watching as she left the apartment.
Your husband didn’t take long to come out, fully dressed. He sat down and searched over the table.
Mrs Hudson had brought up warm croissants, fresh butter and a scrumptious jam to lay on top.
You stood over him and poured tea into his cup. You felt his eyes rolling up and down your body. When you stood away, he poured in his own cream.
You placed the pot down gently and returned to your seat.
In those few seconds there was peace and power, submission and dominance. And you didnt even know it...
You folded the napkin over your lap and spread a fine line of jam over the bread like treat.
Sherlock? He sipped his tea and wouldn’t stop staring, to the point where it made you feel intimidated. What was he looking at? Was there jam on your face?
He clear his throat again and shook his head. He tore a piece of a croissants with his fingers and stuffed it into his mouth. It was something you disapproved of. But you didn’t have the patience to teach a man almost twice your age on the art of table manner etiquette.
And after an eternity of silent air filled with chewing and sipping...
“Finished your breakfast?” Sherlock smiled, rising from his chair, you nodded and patted your lips. You needed to return to your room and find some hair pins along with a hat if he expected you to join him.
“Good...” Sherlock said coming around to your side and helping you out of your chair with a single lending hand...and he led you to the main sitting room.
You tried to turn around go back to your room, maybe he forget the negative propriety of a woman wearing her hair unfixed in public.
He caught your wrist and tugged you to the side of the chaise.
“Bend over,” he purred into your ear.  You blinked.
“What ever for?” you audibly pondered before hearing him sigh frustrated.
You looked between him and the lounge.
His voice was coated in a acidic hiss, “Bend over or I’ll make you.”
You didn’t understand. Naively you bent over the arm. Had he lost something between the soft mattressing? Your fingers reached for the small cushion to look under when you felt him start to lift your skirts. Your eyes widened. What the hell was he doing!?
You went to stand up straight before he pushed his hand on your upper back and pushed you down again. You grunted and grizzled.
He tossed your skirts up over your backside to your waist. His hand softly rubbed across your drawers. The weight of his palm made you jump in surprise. His finger traced the splitting fabric. He pushed the pieces aside.
You held your breath. Your fingers clenched the chaise as you tried looking over your shoulder.
He couldn’t have been suggesting that he would mount you like this...here.. out in the open of your home...surely not...
He smirked at the alarm written all over your face. He bent his head down to you...he kissed your cheek and peppered small pecks to your ear.
“I’m going to strike you ten times,” his hot breath came.
Your eyes widened and your nose curdled.
“What ever for!?” you repeated with a sneer while you tried rising up again. This time, he shoved you down harder.
Sherlock smiled mockingly, his voice was sweet and high but beneath it was hate and sadism, “For speaking against my authority in front of Mrs Hudson.”
He cupped your backside and you swallowed hard.
It wasn’t right! He didn’t need to be so rude to the house keeper. You felt the coming punishment to be unwarranted.
“Such a pretty bum...” he sighed pawing at each unmarred cheek, “Such a disobedient wife...” He awed slightly...you were trembling. You shut your eyes and prayed to turn back time.
The first slap took you entirely by surprise, a sob tore itself from your lips instantly as his hand made contact with your backside.
You stomped your foot and tried twisting around to stop him but he flung you back over the chaise. And then the woosh of a flying hand swatted you. The burning crack of his palm left you feeling choked and brought to tears faster than ever before.
You cried immediately. And do you know what your torturous husband did? He let you cry...he let you catch your breath. He waited until you quieted...and then he hit you again. The third time hurt as well yet, felt stronger. It was the force of the hit that was more like a punch then a slap to your rear end bringing you into a shocked gasp.
You stomped your foot and whimpered, “Unhand me! You brute!”
He chuckled and smacked his palm fast against your bottom, the rising flame of nerves made you whine pitifully.
“Stop!” you pleaded, “Sherlock please!”
The soft touch on your abused arse cheek did little to soothe the stinging pain and the third slap made it far worse. Your skin was turning a shade and felt indescribably hot.
“We are almost finished Mrs Holmes, take a deep breath for me,” he asked.
You sniffled terribly trying to clean your sobs. Your eyes were watering while Sherlock’s pale hand rubbed up and down your sensitive thighs. Your belly jumped and butterflies fluttered. You felt tingly and in need of a cold cloth. You attempted to wriggle away once more but that only made Sherlock grasp on you tighter.
By the sixth slap your whimpers evolved into breathy pants. You felt his run his fingers soft and slow on your hot skin. They were cold and like a balm to the suffering he inflicted. You felt the swirls and managed to feel him draw an S and a H.
It became a vile pattern where he allowed you to compose your crying and fall quiet before delivering hell by his palm.
You could only recall the last spanking you received was from a school teacher when you were nine years old because you spilled ink down the dress of a girl bullying you.
The next whip made you gasp and continued to lessen the soreness you tried breathing through your lips shaped in a ‘o’ which made a most heinous noise...a moan.
“You are taking this very well my pretty Baker Street whore.”
You knew it had to be Sherlock’s voice but it felt so far away now. Your lower body felt incredibly warm and light.
“Never again will you humiliate me In the presence of our housekeeper, do I make myself clear?” his voice became a lifeline.
You were trembling beneath him. You felt him step closer and the side of your neck.
You didn’t agree with him, you didn’t humiliate him, he humiliated himself with his lack of manners. You were tired, relaxed, starting to accept the burning heat of his hand. You heard him chuckling in your ear. Your mind was falling to pieces.
“Yes s-sir,” Your voice shook which fell into a voice a new moan as the next strike connected to your bottom.
“Very good little lamb,” he said pleasingly. He slowly released his grip on your back and ran his hand lightly over your displayed flesh.
He rubbed his thumb into your muscle and took glee in your snarling hiss. He tapped your exposed hip softly.
“There,” he said slowly lifting you from the lounge and letting your skirts fall back to your ankles. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, kissing each cheek as he went.
When reality crashes hard like a stormy wave, you flinched and moved away from him. You cupped your mouth and tried not to cry but the tears fluttered fast.
You felt him stand behind you and you wished you could’ve run away. You felt so embarrassed and ashamed you made such lusty tones. He wrapped his hands around your waist and towered above you.
He asked quietly, “Are you sure you want my fidelity now?”
It felt like a open wound that he was digging inside further. It was cruel, his smugness.
And this was a really trap. You could swear it. He wanted a reason to be allowed to return to Mayfair Row.
He wanted you to waver, to give in, to let him betray the wedding bed. It was like a candle filling the room with light. He didn’t spank you because he was embarrassed that you scolded him in front of the housekeeper, oh no, no, ‘twas a beneath the layers. Sherlock was trying to break you into letting him do as he desired, to continue his habits before your marriage.
You gulped and squeezed his hands; the tools he just beat you with. You felt sick. You felt angry. You felt like you had successfully figured out the solution to an ancient problem...
You could’ve caved in...you could’ve let him ruin the marriage entirely...the shame...you were fragile and almost let him.
You almost, but you didn’t.
You swallowed hard and fluttered your eyes and stated tightly, “It will take more than a whipping by your hands to make me let you go back to whoring, Mr Holmes.”
You turned your neck to glare at him. And instead of a snarl or a frown or disapproving look, he was smirking. His brows were raised in pleasant surprise.
“Marvellous,” he whispered, “an utter spectacle, you are.”
You scoffed and wiped your eyes again of a burning tear and shoved to move past him to go retrieve your hair pins and hat.
He followed on your tail and cackled, “Oh don’t be so prudish...I too heard that little moan.”
Your throat tightened as you tried ignoring his relaying fact.
You came to your room and saw him through your mirror leaning on the door frame, watching you. You perfected your usual modest style while you snapped, “If you honestly believe I under any circumstances enjoyed that, you are truly-  terribly mistaken.”
He was chewing his bottom lip and racing his eyes over your entire body. He was comically a wolf starved for his lamb.
You couldn’t even sit down at your vanity with the heat radiating on your backside under all your skirts. You didn’t even want to come out with him today, you almost dared state you would stay home after his assault.
However, lord only knows where Sherlock would really gallivant off to if you didn’t chaperone him today. Any man can break a promise.
He came into your room slowly and went to your hat box. He handed you the straw brim and cleared his throat, “Get your gloves, we must make haste.”
You rolled your eyes at him and snatched your hat from his hands, “If we were in such a hurry it might’ve deterred you from your unnecessary beating.”
He was fast as lightning and holding your jaw tearing out a gasp from you as he huffed, “Indeed, If we weren’t in such a hurry, I would have my cock down your throat for that comment Mrs Holmes.” His eyes turned a shade darker that dragged a bolt of fear back down your spine.
His smile was not as cheery, it had transformed into a sneer in lilt, “Gloves. Now.”
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Helplines:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.
Australian Helpline Services
UK Helpline Services
American Helpline Services
India Helpline Services.
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year
Text
beef with wasps
f!singer x andrei svechnikov
warnings: mentions of anaphylactic shock/severe allergic reactions, swearing, light joking of near death (to be clear: nobody dies in this), some fluff
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liked by gracieabrams, rolemodel and 836,217 others
ynofficial: on behalf of y/n - she is conscious, well and in great hands. she told me to spare the details on what happened, but does want you guys to know that after suffering a wasp sting earlier this afternoon, she was rushed to the ER after going into anaphylactic shock. she gave us all quite a scare and will be in overnight for observations, but doctors are positive she'll make a full recovery
S x
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gracieabrams: thinking of you and wishing you the best recovery! <3
fan1: who tf is s?
fan2: that must have been terrifying, so glad she's ok now
fan3: sending love
reneerapp: ❤️❤️
comments for this post have been restricted
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ynofficial: they gave me so much fucking adrenalin i have a rocket up my arse rn and he's just gone to the vending machine bc im so hungry so im taking this opportunity to tell you guys that i almost died today but im ok and the reason theres no selfie is bc i look like a pickled dick rn and as charles boyle once said life is a party and im the pinata xxxxx and he did get me flowers without me even asking so im vv in love rn
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fan4: sorry you almost died?????
fan5: babe what did you think anaphylactic shock was
fan6: does the adrenalin also increase the meme usage
fan7: so she almost dies AND reveals she might be in a relationship??? my heart is breaking twice tonight
fan8: ok but the flowers???? she's got a real one there
fan9: i mean i'd like to think if you almost died your partner would get you flowers...
fan10: lmao you'd think so wouldn't you
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ynofficial: back home! i'm now on house arrest because "there aren't any wasps inside" (we have beef with their butts now). needless to say, it was scary for everyone, but as you can see, miley (the cat) is the only one unbothered. i'm currently typing this from under a human giant and i'm loving every second.
i'd also like to take the opportunity to apologise for my loopy instagram posting and let everyone who purchased tickets for the phoenix show know that they will be refunded. again, i'm incredibly sorry for any inconvenience!
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fan11: and you expect me to believe that human giant in the photo is NOT svech???
fan12: he also likes cats
fan13: and in her other post, it was signed off with 's'
fan14: girl don't apologise
fan15: is he ok?
ynofficial: bit teary but we're recovering!
fan16: NO SVECH DON'T CRY EVERYTHING IS OKAY
andrei_svechnikov37: ynofficial you almost died i'm not letting you go that easily
fan17: SVECH HELLO
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liked by ynofficial, devonleecarlson and 57,931 others
andrei_svechnikov37: the family emergency has made a full recovery! (thank fuck) i also wanted to come on here and say that i'm unbelievably proud of this girl, and hilariously in love with her
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fan18: crying happy tears this is adorable
fan19: SVECH STOP RUINING MY STANDARDS
fan20: i love how she's wearing red in the last two pictures
ynofficial: shh he hasn't caught on yet
fan21: i've only had y/n and andrei for a day (officially), but if anything happened to them, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself
fan22: am i the only one who wants to know how long they've been dating?
fan23: no!! i do too
ynofficial: you're making me blush
liked by andrei_svechnikov37
fan24: y/n is so precious and idk who andrei is but i love him just for this caption
fan25: svech is definitely a cuddler
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ynofficial: i can't find the right words to express how happy and grateful i am to have you in my life, so i'm just going to settle with i love you so fucking much that sometimes i can't breathe because of it, okay?
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fan26: is andrei the inspiration behind out of my misery?
ynofficial: yes
fan27: you guys make me sick in a good way
fan28: wow you've got taste y/n
andrei_svechnikov37: saying you can't breathe is a bit too soon
ynofficial: LMAO I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE
andrei_svechnikov37: i love the love though
fan29: y/n i can't-
fan30: how long have you guys been together?
ynofficial: one and a half years!
fan31: y/n not being overly mushy on instagram and casually announcing she's dating an nhl player is my favourite part of this year so far
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mamachasesmayhem · 5 months
Text
She Ain’t Takin’ Your Call
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Here’s my contribution to my incredible sister in shenanigans @hangmansgbaby What If…? Celebration Challenge! This can be read as a standalone Honeyverse nugget or as a the alternative to my Me On You story
Summary: What if Bradley didn’t cut Honey off when Mav pulled his papers? What if, after years of pining, her father’s decision to stall Bradley’s career bonded them instead of driving a wedge between them? What if she married Bradley instead of Jake?
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Honey Mitchell (wife), Jake Seresin x Honey Bradshaw (best friend)
Warnings: ouchies inbound. Full range of emotions comin’ in hot. Also, this went further than I expected so there may or may not be a part two coming 🫣
Honey
18 years old
“What do you mean he pulled your papers Bradley? Please tell me that you’re not saying what I think you are?” Honey pleads with the seething man pacing in front of her.
“Did you know??” Bradley turns on her in an instant.
“Did I know my dad was gonna fuck both of our lives up? No, Bradley, I did not!” She roared back. “If I’d have known my own dad would single-handedly derail the futures we’d so carefully chosen and worked tirelessly for, you would have known the second I did!”
"Shit, Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. It's just-I wanted that naval academy ring like my dad, you know? One last ditch effort to make him proud," his voice cracks.
"Oh, Tank. We both know he's already beyond proud of you. You took care of Mama B before we lost her, you've had an incredible athletic career, one you're ending on your own free will, might I add. You're a pretty great guy, Bradley. I know I'm proud of you," Honey spoke softly.
Tank.
The nickname was affectionately given to Bradley by Honey when they were in elementary school after Honey discovered the existence of an M2 Bradley tank. They both found it hilarious given that their dads were in the navy and thought all Army guys were meatheaded tool bags.
Bradley’s arms wrapped around her small frame. “I love you, Honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She sniffled. “We’ll figure this out, Bradley. Together, okay?”
“Together,” he promised.
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22 years old
“We should get married.”
Natasha drops the cup she was holding, Jake chokes on the beer he was sipping and starts coughing, and Honey freezes like a deer in headlights.
Bradley was the picture of cool and collected, with determination in his eyes and a smirk on his face following the suggestion.
“Wh-what?” She stammers.
“Dude, that is the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard in my life. And I was literally raised in a barn!” Jake laughs.
The young couple had known Natasha since they were in high school and met Jake in OCS over the summer. They became fast friends, their personalities meshing well right off the bat. Although Jake was at the Naval Academy while Nat, Bradley, and Honey were at the University of Virginia, they took advantage of their common winter break and the opportunity to spend some time together in Virginia Beach.
“Shut it, ring knocker. It’s not the real proposal, she’s a lady and I love her, I will absolutely sweep her off her feet with the real thing!” Bradley shoots Jake a dirty look.
The two boys bicker like an old couple, completely oblivious to the fact Honey still hasn’t moved a muscle.
Nat caught on and quickly pulled her aside.
“What’s wrong? Do you not want that? I know your parents were kind of a mess, so it would make sense if marriage isn’t something you’d be interested in,” Natasha supplied.
“No. It’s not that. It’s-it’s the fact that I do want that but I’m scared he was kidding or is drunk enough that he won’t remember it tomorrow,” she whispers in reply.
Honey feels warmth against her back and she turns to find Bradley smiling down at her.
“Take a walk with me?” He offers her his hand.
She happily links her fingers with his, leaving Jake and Nat sitting at the fire pit in the backyard of their rental for the weekend.
They're a good way down the beach, the chilly waves brushing against their feet as they walk the shoreline. Bradley pulls her into an alcove, the moonlight reflecting beautifully off of the dark water and illuminating the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
Honey’s lip twitches, unable to contain her goofy comment. “What are you up to, Bradshaw? Is this where you finally give me your villain speech and admit you’ve been plotting my demise since I took the last uncrustable when we were 13?”
“Oh, my little bird, I have a punishment worse than death waiting for you over that one. But no, that’s not even close to what I have planned.”
Bradley gathers her hands in his and takes a step back before dropping to one knee.
Honey’s jaw drops in tandem at the sight of him reaching into his pocket and pulling out a dark velvet box.
“Honey Marie Mitchell, will you marry me?” Bradley beams up at her.
“OF COURSE! I’ve been planning my life with you since we were 17, it’s about damn time you make me a Bradshaw!”
Bradley slips the ring on her finger and quickly stands and tugs her into his arms, kissing her deeply and passionately.
Whoops and wolf whistles come from behind them, causing them to break apart.
“Alright, that’s enough! You’re gonna catch a public indecency charge if you keep it up any longer, you animals!” Natasha teases.
“Aw, Bradshaw you are a romantic! I thought you were all shit and no egg,” Jake ribs Bradley.
“You’re looking at soon to be two Bradshaws, Seresin! Read it and weep!” Honey smiles, flashing her left hand that now sports the modest diamond band Carole wore until her last breath.
The four of them made their way back to the fire with broad grins, celebrating the engagement until the early hours of the morning.
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24 years old
“By the power vested in me by the great state of Virginia and the World Wide Web, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw. You may kiss the bride!”
Natasha beamed in joy for her long time friends as they sealed their union with a kiss.
In a perfect world, Honey’s dad would be giving her away. She’d be in a sparkly gown she and her future mother in law cried over when she tried it on. She’d be getting married on the beach in Miramar, where the Mitchells and the Bradshaws were blissfully happy for the last time, starting a new era where the last one ended.
This was a solid backup plan, though. They were surrounded by the handful of close friends they’d made during their college years and their first assignments after graduation. Bradley had wanted to get married beforehand, not wanting to risk being separated even at the beginning of their careers.
Honey, however, wanted to wait. She had wanted to make a name for herself first, not wanting to be known as Pete Mitchell’s daughter and Bradley Bradshaw’s wife. Not wanting to be known for her part in a tragic love story, for being another woman riding the coattails of her husband's success.
Bradley understood, he wouldn’t get in the way of her career the same way her father had done to him. It didn’t mean he was happy about it, though.
He seemed to take their time apart much harder than Honey did. He wasn’t as good at forming bonds with his teammates as she was. Where she was happy to build happy and healthy friendships everywhere she went, Bradley had trouble finding a balance between codependency and apathy. It seemed he could only find himself falling into one extreme or the other.
After a rough ejection, Honey finally understood why Bradley hated being away from her so much. There was a limited number of days they had on earth, and she decided she didn’t wanna spend more away from Bradley than absolutely necessary. It was a tough decision, knowing she essentially had to choose between her dream of being a fighter pilot and her dream of being Honey Bradshaw. In the end, she knew she could find happiness in another MOS, but she would never find another Tank.
Honey smiled against Bradley’s lips as he dipped her back in a deep kiss. The cheers of their friends surrounded them, filling the air with a palpable joy. Their ceremony was small, maybe 15 people total in attendance, but the love they felt was enough to power the entire crew of an aircraft carrier.
Jake, Nat, and Javy were the first to wrap them in hugs when they joined everyone at the bar down the road from the spot on the beach where Bradley proposed a few years back. Virginia Beach, while definitely a tourist trap, easily became a place close to their hearts. It’s where Bradley proposed, it’s where they got married, and it’s where they’ll share their first house as a married couple. They picked out an adorable little bungalow not far from where they’re both stationed in Norfolk on a stroke of good luck.
Quite a few hours later and after thoroughly consummating their marriage, Honey laid awake in bed, replaying the day in her mind with a smile. Her left hand carried extra weight now, her sweet husband had surprised her with a beautiful pear shaped solitaire that perfectly complemented the sentimental band she proudly sported. It was a little backwards to get a wedding band when you get engaged and an engagement ring on your wedding day, but she always smiled at the idea that they did things in their own way.
With her hand resting heavily on Bradley’s chest, she reached for her phone and quickly snapped a picture. Her thumbs danced across the screen and hovered over the arrow. She attached the picture and hit send before she could change her mind.
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She wasn’t sure if her chest felt lighter or heavier after the short exchange, but she didn’t have much time to think about it because her new husband briefly roused from sleep.
“Get some sleep, wife,” he mumbled as he tucked her into his side. “I can hear your brain from all the way over here.”
She pressed a light kiss to his chest before she replied. “You know I always think the most before bed, being still is never a good thing for me.”
“Nervous about Monday?” He guesses correctly.
Honey lets out a breath. “A little bit. It’ll be a change moving to helos, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m sorry you gave up jets for me, sweetheart. I hate that you had to sacrifice that dream for me,” Bradley frowns.
“You’re the real dream, Bradshaw. It wasn’t a hard choice at all. Besides, I don’t think the navy could handle a third generation of Mitchells buzzing the tower,” Honey chuckles and Bradley flinches at the mention of her family legacy. “Anyway, you need some sleep. I plan on taking advantage of my husband and our newly wedded bliss all day tomorrow.”
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27 years old
Honey couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face when she caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair in the mess hall aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln.
She sneaks up to the table where he’s sitting and drops her voice in hopes to keep him from recognizing her immediately. “How’s it hangin, man?”
Jake groans. “You get hung up in a tree after an ejection one time and you’re stuck being called Hangman for the rest of your car-” he pauses mid sentence when he finally turns around to address the newcomer giving him a hard time. “Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!”
Honey bites her lip in an attempt to contain her laughter, but it bubbles out when Jake jumps up and lifts her off the ground in a bone crushing hug.
“I heard a rumor that the best pilot in the navy was onboard! Imagine my disappointment when I saw it was the Vigilantes’ squadron,” she teases.
Jake clutches at his chest in exaggerated pain.
“You wound me!” Another voice rings from the table.
“Javy!” Honey grins as she’s passed to Jake’s wingman for his own hug.
“Boys, this here is Venom. She’s the most badass chopper pilot you’ll ever meet. She used to pilot a super hornet, but was in a horrific crash that disfigured her into the hideous creature you see in front of you today,” Jake teased.
Introductions are made around the table and Honey happily sits down and joins the group. After a while of shooting the shit, their table mates have filtered out, leaving only Honey and her longtime friends.
“Alright, now that the crowd’s thinned out…how you holding up? The nightmares any better?” She asks quietly.
Javy took that as his cue to make a silent exit knowing it was difficult for Jake to talk about his true feelings about it. Only he and Honey knew.
“Some days are harder than others. The nightmares aren’t as often anymore,” he replied softly.
Hangman may be the only active duty naval aviator with a confirmed kill, but Jake Seresin has a soft underbelly only a select few have seen. The same select few all attended her wedding.
Honey was suddenly aware of just how many people still lingered in the mess hall and decided to take the conversation elsewhere.
She tilts her head in the direction of the door. “Where’s your plane? I’ve been in charge of rotor blades for so long that I may have forgotten what it feels like to handle a throttle.”
Jake understands what she’s doing and is grateful for the change of scenery as he happily leads her down to his baby. They climb onto the wing and settle facing each other, Jake’s back against the canopy and Honey’s against where the wing is folded for storage purposes.
“You look like you’re at home over there,” Jake says, nudging her with his boot.
Honey sighs. “I feel like I’m at home. I miss Mach speeds.”
“You know, in another life, I think you might have been good enough to be my WSO,” he teases.
“Oooh, high praise, Seresin. You’d trust me enough to have your back, huh?”
“I’d trust you with my life, Vee. Definitely miss having you in the skies, my jokes don’t land with anyone else like they did with you,” Jake pouts.
“Yeah, well, apparently my sense of humor is just as shitty as yours,” she chuckles. “All jokes aside, talk to me about how you’re doing.”
Jake pours his heart out and explains how unexpectedly hard it hit him. Sure, he was trained to eliminate a threat with zero hesitation. He would do it again in a heartbeat, too. He’s a protector to his core and he finds comfort in the thought he was protecting people back home. It didn’t make the realization he took someone’s life any less painful, though. Because in that other plane was another person. Someone just like him who probably had friends and family waiting for him to return home.
“I really am doing better, I’m coming to terms with it and it haunts me a little less every day. Thanks for always checking in on me, Bradshaw,” he sends her a genuine and thankful smile.
“It’s what we do, we all made that same promise when we were floating in that god forsaken freezing water to always be here for each other. As much as I hate that Bradley’s not here too, I’m glad he’s got Nat at home to depend on during rough days. He’s not handled the last couple of deployments well,” Honey admits.
Jake hums in contemplation. “You thinkin’ about turning in your wings? Errr, blades? permanently?”
“I dunno, not yet. I told Bradley we could talk about it more when I turn 30. We’ve still got so many adventures to go on.” She smiled softly.
An alarm went off on Honey’s phone, a reminder for her scheduled video call with her husband. She and Jake make their way to the bunks and he stays long enough to say hi to his buddy before heading to his own room. He’s known the Bradshaw’s long enough to know what’s next.
“Well hello there, gorgeous. I sure am missing you,” Bradley coos through the screen.
“I miss you too, handsome. How was your day?”
They catch up on all that transpired in the few days they’ve been apart for the next half hour before a devilish grin crosses Honey’s face. She had been fiddling with the zipper of her flight suit, slowly inching it down until her breasts were visible at the neck of the tank top she wore under the olive green material. Bradley was visibly distracted, eyes locked on the newly exposed skin.
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” Honey teases, trailing her fingers across her collarbone.
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28 years old
“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”
Honey’s jaw dropped and her grip faltered on the drink she was holding.
“Bradley!” She hissed on a whisper.
He knew that was a sore spot, Jake had confided in him as well, and he used it against him.
Dick move, Bradley.
He ignored her warning and walked away, no doubt in the direction of the piano. Honey flashed Jake an apologetic smile and he just shrugged before slipping that cocky Hangman mask back into place.
Suddenly, the bell rang and the crowded bar erupted in cheers. She knew Jake, Nat, or Javy would make sure to grab the next round, knowing Honey would want to avoid Penny as much as possible. The only person with a history with Pete Mitchell that could rival the one of Honey’s was Penny Benjamin.
“Overboard!” The bar patrons chanted.
Jake and Payback gleefully made their way towards the bar, happy to be the ones who tossed out the fool in question. She doesn’t see who it is with everyone crowding the bar, so she makes her way to where she’s sure she’ll find her husband. The keys of the piano sounded as Bradley made sure it was in tune, and his better half slid in next to him, ready to sing along.
When Jake reenters the bar, Honey doesn’t miss the way he looks like he’s seen a ghost. They make eye contact and her eyebrow raises in question. Jake just replies with a slight shake of his head, a silent “we’ll talk about it later.”
Later never came, Honey had stayed glued to Bradley’s side, ready to run interference between her husband and her best friend, and Jake had slipped out with his catch of the night.
She woke to a text from Jake claiming they needed to talk later that day and she replied by inviting her to dinner at her and Bradley’s temporary barracks that evening.
Her husband was being unusually standoffish as they got ready. He normally always found a reason to have his hands on her, to shower with her, to leave kisses on her neck as they got ready for the day. But he wouldn’t even look at her in the mirror.
“Tank. What’s going on?” She asked.
“Nothing?” His reply was short.
“You haven’t even kissed me good morning,” Honey pouted.
“I gotta head out, I’ll see you later?” He offered with a kiss to her head.
The fuck?
“You don’t want me to drive you?”
It was their normal routine, riding to work together in the morning or one dropping the other off if they weren’t assigned to the same mission.
“Nah, wanna get there early today. I’ll see you for dinner,” he offered no other explanation before he left for the day.
That was the first time he ever left the house without kissing her lips first. She shrugged it off as nerves over this top secret mission that is apparently insanely dangerous and planned to help him relax when he got home that night.
Honey had taken leave for this week, wanting to be here as Bradley settled into his new routine for this mission. She hated idle time, so she made a day of grocery shopping in anticipation of what all Bradley would need while she was gone. The poor man would be living on Ramen and takeout unless she did something about it, so she planned to put crockpot kits together and freeze them so he would have home cooked meals on occasion.
The hours ticked by and it was time to start dinner before she knew it. Just as she pulled the dish out of the oven, there was a knock on the door. Honey frowned, realizing Bradley hadn’t made it home from work yet, and opened the door for Jake.
“Is Bradley with you?” She asked the blonde.
He looked genuinely confused for a moment before answering. “No, I haven’t seen him since we left the hangar. He’s not home?”
Honey felt a pit in her stomach as Jake shut the door and she led him to the kitchen. She fired off a text, asking where he was. He replied with a lackluster “out,” and she almost started crying.
“Everything okay Vee?” Jake asked.
“Yeah! Just fine, Bradley’s just spending some extra time at the gym today, said he was stressed,” she covers for him smoothly.
“Shit, I’m surprised he could even hold his phone up enough to text. I bet his arms are noodles after all the pushups he did today. Which brings me to what I need to talk to you about…” Jake trailed off.
“What, Bradley’s physique not cutting it for you anymore?” She attempted to lighten the mood.
“Your dad’s here. I threw him out last night at the bar…and he’s our instructor for the mission,” Jake explained and hung his head.
The breath punched from Honey’s lungs.
Shit.
That explains why Bradley didn’t come straight home.
“Thanks for telling me, Jake,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you came by, too.”
Jake tilts his head to rest it atop Honey’s. “What are you gonna do? I know it’s been weighing on you.”
“Honestly? I miss him, Jake. I miss him so much. I’m almost 30 for fuck’s sake. I think it’s about time I act like a grown up. Besides, Bradley and I talked about maybe trying to start a family in the next few years. I wouldn’t want to bring a baby into dysfunction if I can avoid it,” Honey sighed.
“Aww baby Bradshaws coming soon??” Jake teased. “We’d have to call you Baby On Board instead of Bob! But hey, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you.”
Jake left after dinner and Bradley stumbled home a few hours later, smelling like he drank the whole bar. He ignored all of his wife’s attempts to talk and faceplanted in the bed, falling asleep immediately.
The pattern continued over the next few days, Jake coming over for dinner and Bradley curing his liver in bottom shelf whiskey. The day before she was due to head home, she decided to reach out to her dad. They agreed to meet for dinner off base and Jake would covertly sit a few tables over in case she needed him. She wished it was Bradley there for support, but he had barely spoken to her the last few days. There’s no way he would have agreed to come with her if he wouldn’t even kiss her.
Dinner went better than she had planned, the pair were eager to put it all in the past and move forward in repairing their relationship. They laughed, they cried, and they hugged. Honey felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and her smile was bright when Jake slipped into the empty seat Mav had just vacated.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I gotta talk to you about your husband,” Jake started.
Honey’s heart stalled, thinking the worst. Jake’s eyes widened when he realized how it sounded.
“Shit! I didn’t mean it like that, you know I’d murder him if he stepped out on you. He’s…not been flying at peak performance. Something’s holding him back and I’m worried.”
“I need him to come home to me, Jake. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to bring them both back. I need you to push him for me. I can’t get through to him lately, but nobody gets under his skin like you do,” she pleads. “I have to go back home tomorrow, so I’m trusting you with both of them. I know it’s a big ask, but you’re up for it.”
She gives him a warm smile and he knows she meant every word she said.
“Pinky promise,” he grins back, holding his little finger out towards her before she links hers around his.
Jake kept his promise, pushing Bradley to the point of explosion. Honey was more than a little irritated Jake brought Goose into it, but it worked. Her heart about fell out of her ass when she found out she almost lost both her dad and her husband on the mission, but Jake had kept his promise once again and brought them both home in the nick of time. Things improved drastically when they returned home, Bradley and Mav had both started repairing their relationship as well and the Bradshaw couple returned to normal.
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29 years old
“Happy birthday dear Honey, happy birthday to youuuuuu!”
Honey was celebrating her birthday at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the Daggers who were now permanently housed out of Miramar and led by her dad. She was still based out of Lemoore, but the short trip down the coast wasn’t terrible every other weekend.
She turned, ready to give her husband a kiss after blowing out her candles, but he wasn’t behind her. He wasn’t anywhere in her line of view, and she frowned.
Things had been rocky between them lately. Bradley had been pushing more and more for her to retire so they could start a family, but she wasn’t quite ready to hang up her helmet just yet. It’d been a source of a lot of tension, worsening every day. She couldn’t remember the last time Bradley had made the trip to Lemoore, let alone the last time they’d had sex. Honey felt like she was putting more effort into making their marriage work while her husband just sat back and demanded things from her, then punished her when he didn’t get his way.
Honey felt the hurt rising in her chest and slipped away with the excuse of needing to use the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, washing the tear steams off of her cheeks after managing to get her emotions under control. When she exited the bathroom, she ran directly into a firm chest and bounced off of it.
“Oof!” she stumbled before strong hands caught her elbows, steadying her on her feet.
When she looked up, she was only slightly disappointed to see mossy green eyes filled with concern instead of the whiskey brown ones she’d been hoping for. It wasn’t a surprise though, Bradley hadn’t paid her much attention lately. But Jake had. He’d seen the light and happiness slowly fade from her eyes over the last year and it killed him to see it happen.
“What’s going on, Vee? And don’t lie to me and tell me nothing, I’ve known you for too long.” He pleads.
She smashes her lips into a flat line, trying to think of something that didn’t paint her husband in a bad light.
“It’s Bradley, isn’t it?” Jake supplied.
Honey gasped and tears welled in her eyes again. “How did-how did you know?”
“I’m more observant than I let on, you know that. I’ve seen the effort you put in, but I haven’t seen any returned to you,” Jake says gently.
“He’s mad I’m not ready to be a stay at home mom and wife yet,” Honey’s lip wobbles.
Jake’s heart shatters. He knows how much she loves her job, how much she’s already sacrificed for his teammate. It’s unfair of him to ask her to give up more. He takes a second to tamp down the rage he’s feeling before he leaves her with something to consider.
“Honey, are the teardrops he puts on your cheeks worth the one he put on your ring finger? Before you insult me, I know it’s technically a pear shaped stone, but it doesn’t sound as clever,” he tries to make her laugh.
It works, and he revels in the small giggle that escapes her.
“Now, there’s a party to celebrate the last year of your 20s, no more crying in the corner!”
With that, he drags her back to where their friends are waiting and he’s proud of the fact she seems to be genuinely having a good time for the rest of the night.
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6 months later
“I’m doing it. The papers are officially filed,” Honey exhaled heavily into the phone.
“How do you feel about it?” He asks.
“Surprisingly free. I’m kinda frustrated I waited so long to do it, I didn’t realize how unhappy I’d been until this very moment,” she breathes.
“I’m proud of you, Vee. I know leaving the only constant you’ve known your entire adult life wasn’t an easy decision to make, but you did it. And I’m so proud of you for being so brave,” he compliments, knowing she needs it at the moment.
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The follow up is here! Read That Pretty Girl’s In Pretty Good Hands now 💕
Honeyverse 🏷️s:
@whatislovevavy @marvelousnightjengale @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @sweetwhispersofchaos @dempy @wkndwlff @hangmanshoney @trickphotography2 @aviatorobsessed @buckysdollforlife @horseshoegirl @callsign-magnolia @hisredheadedgoddess28 @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @seresinsweetie @jynxmirage @teacupsandtopgun @withahappyrefrain @djs8891 @hardballoonlove @seresinhangmanjake @dingochef @everythingmarveltopgun @scarlettwidow19 @shanimallina87 @a-reader-and-a-writer @thewulf @penwieldingdreamer @desert-fern @thedroneranger @sebsxphia @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @littleenglishfangirl @ohtobeleah @ereardon @jupitercomet
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ezrasbirdie · 8 months
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car salesman jack daniels & his cupcake - the headcanons
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The happiest of belated birthdays to our @lowlights! @haylzcyon and I decided what Laura really needed was a bunch of facts about car salesman Jack and his girl that don't really fit in the follow-ups we have planned. We also decided everyone else did, too. This list is comprised of hours of voice memos and chats and masterdoc planning and it's just been so fun. We did NOT expect that level of interest in our little car salesman. I hope those of you who enjoyed Cupcake enjoy this, too, and we look forward to sharing more of this sweet man.
And Laura, my love--you are truly one of the best people I've ever met. You are the reason I don't get up and walk out of fandom 90% of the time. You are giving and kind and gracious, and you never, ever ask me to be someone I'm not. Even when who I am is A Lot. You're talented and hilarious, and somehow you find the light in all the darkness. And you're kind enough to pull me along even when I'm kicking and screaming. I don't deserve you, but that doesn't mean I'm not clinging to you like a baby possum. So there, there's all my love for you in a paragraph. I am lucky to know you. I am so thankful you were born.
Now, for your gift!!
cw: mentions of sex, incredibly soft Jack Daniels, a little tiny bit of angst, jack wearing glasses, so much fluff
You make Jack go get glasses. You noticed a long time ago how much he squints at his monitor, especially towards the end of the day, and when you suggest he go to the eye doctor for the first time he LAUGHS. So you get very serious about it and tell him it will make such a difference you PROMISE and also he will be very sexy. You’re like, “Jack, you know I think it’s cute that you have to hold the phone 20 feet away to read it but maybe you should see a doctor.r” When he finally concedes and gets those wire-rimmed glasses “just for reading and computer work”, he is pleased to find how much you really do like them. You ask him to wear them in bed, too, which he is delighted by. 
Jack takes you to a rodeo, and at first, you’re like…what is going on here where ARE we? But then you see all these cowboys in chaps and tight jeans and there’s testosterone and you’re like “Okay, I get the appeal.” It might not be the intended appeal, but who cares? Later you’re googling western wear stores to price chaps, and Jack is more than willing to play dress up.
Jack is still Jack, and he still gets it wrong from time to time, especially in the beginning. After the second date, when he comes back to work the next week, he’s more reserved than you anticipated. He’s still saying good morning and texting you about plans but he’s not acting the way you thought he might act. You try to tell yourself it’s just because you’re at work, but he’s still being really chummy with everyone else. He’d seemed really excited before, so you’re confused when he’s so subdued. You end up asking him if everything’s okay, mostly because you’re tired of not being direct with him, and you want to know if he wants you to be discreet, too, or if he’s regretting things. Of course, the second you tell him how you’re feeling, he feels terrible because he was just trying not to embarrass you by being overly eager. He makes it up to you by, you know, talking to you. Also, he does one of those kiss/cuddle attacks as soon as y’all are alone again and says he’s sorry between each one and it’s very cute.
Jack has social media stalked you since day one, and he never wants you to find out how long he spent looking at every public profile you have. Which is how he learns when your birthday is. So, since he was being a freak about everything rather than just talking to you, he went “I’ll schedule my vacation during her birthday week and then I won’t be tempted to get her something.” Solid logic, you know? Then of course, he decides he needs to grow tf up when Ginger’s like “You know she thinks you hate her right?” he’s all sad, so he comes in the first day he’s not busy to give you your little treat. 
You’ll never let Jack know just how much it sucked watching him be everyone else’s best friend. You know he’s sorry, you know he likes you SO much, and you can’t believe how much you’re enjoying getting to know him. He makes up for it every single day, even when you tell him it’s all right, he’s been forgiven a million times now. And you’re not lying; you don’t hold any of it against him. But damn, it really did suck watching the resident sweetheart who you have this huge crush on love all over everyone but you. 
This carries over to when you tell your best friend he finally kissed you. She is skeptical at best and ready to fight him in the car lot at worst. Because she’s the one you cried to after a bottle of wine about this major crush on your coworker who doesn’t seem to notice you exist. You were down about it for months. Not like crazy depressed or anything, but when she tries to get you to go on dates or use Tinder or anything, you were just like, “I cannot imagine anyone I meet online will compare to him at this point.” And you know it’s silly because you don’t even know him, not really. It’s just this stupid feeling in your gut that you’re supposed to be together, and you don’t know why it won’t just go away. But THEN when you finally get together and he is everything and more you are vindicated, and your bestie is like “As long as you are happy I am happy but I will be a little mean to him in the beginning.” Eventually, she finds him just as charming as everyone else, and she’s just happy you got your big dicked salesman.
There is no policy about dating coworkers, but you two do end up deciding to keep it lower-key in the beginning after you have their initial talk. The last thing either of you wants is for someone to accuse you of favoritism while forwarding customers or for Brett in finance to start making crude jokes about Jack fucking his ‘secretary’. Jack’s not usually a violent man, but hearing you talked about like that might make him reconsider. But then people start to notice how much more time Jack spends at reception nowadays, or how you start taking their lunches at the same time when you can, or just how giggly and happy you both look while chatting near the copier–it spreads like wildfire. 
One day when Ginger overhears some of the other office ladies whispering about how you both showed up with coffee from the same cafe that morning, she’s quick to shut them down. She was one of the first to find out about your *FINALLY* relationship when she came across you making out in his car in the parking lot in the morning.
By the time the two of you grow tired of keeping it lowkey, it’s old news. 
This still doesn’t keep you from sharing some cute and/or steamy moments when you find yourselves alone in the break room, or the parking lot. You want Jack JUST as bad as he wants you, but you’re a bit better at keeping cool at work. From his office, he has a perfect view of you at reception all day and often has to actively tear his focus from you to not get worked up in his desk chair. But if he finds you by yourself in the break room, making coffee or tea with your back to the door, he won’t be able to help himself from crowding you from behind, pushing his zipper right up against the back of your skirt and whispering something definitely not workplace appropriate into your ear, smirking and exiting before you can turn around. 
On Fridays, you make a game of seeing how many times you can pinch his little ass in those Wrangler jeans.
You love to ignore the phone while he’s got his cute lil hip planted on the counter. He’s always checking his sales figures. He could access them himself if he wanted to, but you’re so much better at it. At least once while Jack is lollygagging around your desk, he picks the phone off the receiver and sets it down next to it while you're turned around or helping a customer, to keep it from ringing. You catch on quickly and tell him as sternly as possible that he’ll get you in trouble. 
Jack uses his natural charm to his advantage when he’s selling cars, especially with the ladies. This seldom phases you because you know he’s got a job to do, but then some girl you hated in high school shows up and it’s a little different. You’re like well who the fuck does she think she is? You spend the day stewing while he walks her through buying a new car, going on a drive alone with her—god, isn’t she married? It’s lucky for Jack that your logical brain knows it means nothing. Your lizard brain, though—she takes the opportunity to put on that lavender bra and just that lavender bra he loves so much and ride him until he forgets his name. Afterward, he asks what on earth has gotten into you, and you admit you were a little jealous. He finds this very, very cute, and then he eats you out. Because reasons.
Sometimes the dealership is overwhelming. The lights are bright, in the afternoon the sun shines directly on you through the floor-to-ceiling windows and in the summer it gets so hot, the phone is constantly ringing. It gets to you. Jack is so used to this environment, having been in various dealerships for so many years, that it doesn’t phase him at all. When you have a bad day, he notices. He notices when you slip away from your desk more often than usual to retreat to the quiet of the breakroom. He notices when you rub your thumb between your eyes when you’re dealing with a difficult customer on the phone. You don’t admit that it’s sometimes too much until you get together, and Jack is next to you so fast now. He checks in constantly in between calls and customers and test drives, asking if he can get you anything, offering to try to cover the phones. You never let him—he has no idea how to operate the system and teaching him would take too long—but you always accept the water or tea or honeybun from the vending machine. He wants to take care of you so badly, so you let him.
Every time you get a new piece of furniture from IKEA, he begs you to let him buy you nicer furniture or just anything that comes pre-built. Jack tries to help, he really does, but he has no patience for instructions that don’t make any sense and he’s always drilling clear through whatever piece of furniture he’s supposed to be putting together. 
Jack's middle name is Whiskey because his parents were a little nuts when they were younger. You think this is the best thing.
One of the only things you ever bicker over is how much he spoils you. You know it’s one of the ways he shows affection and that he cares, but you need him to know that’s not why you’re with him. You love never having to buy your own coffee or breakfast during the week, though. You’ve forgotten the last time you even paid for a meal because Jack’s whole Thing is taking care of you, and that includes making sure you’ve eaten. Eventually, there’s a compromise: he doesn’t need to buy you big gifts every week or anything, but you allow him to pay for regular things like coffee and work meals, and also to get your hair and nails done when you want. You always make sure to get his opinion on what color polish to get, and eventually, he will always suggest some shade of lavender or purple.
It takes a while for Jack to understand that your love is not conditional. Not that he thinks you’re anything like the people he’s been with before—you’re not. At all. But it’s hard to shake those old habits and insecurities. Every time you express any sort of dissatisfaction, he’s sure this is it. This is the thing that’ll make you leave him. One day he’s swamped with paperwork, and he can’t take you to dinner like he promised. He sits and wrings his hands and thinks about how he can make it up to you; how he’s gonna tell you; how you’re gonna react. When he finally does, you shake your head and smile and kiss him on the worried crinkle right between his eyes. “It’s not a big deal, baby. I’ll have something ready for you when you’re done.” It catches him off guard—you’re not even slightly upset. Because, obviously, why would you be? Your love for him isn’t contingent on the number of dinners he buys for you. And for the first time in decades, he feels safe.
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cheersmequeers · 1 year
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The "Fine Things Well" Scene
I have seen SO. MUCH. INCREDIBLE. discourse about this scene, and I have truly learned a ton of new things about queer storytelling from these analyses alone. Here's one fave from @shiplessoceans but as I re-find the others I'll add them.
It has left me with an endless itch: what, really, is going on for Stede here?
I tend to agree with the most common fanon take on Ed in this scene: up to this point he had a crush and liked Stede, but the party showed a side of Stede he did not anticipate. Then on the deck of the ship he realizes he's Got It Bad: the way Stede quietly apologizes, calls him sophisticated and means it, the way he tenderly yet boldly handles the silk, the (again genuine) expression that Ed "wear(s) fine things well." Ed is totally smitten and romanced and WAS GONNA KISS STEDE HERE.
But with Stede it's much more complex. I tend to agree that Stede is somewhat oblivious to any romantic potential between Ed and him. And yet, as someone brilliantly pointed out, he is doing textbook Queer Seduction here: gently asking permission. Giving time and space to refuse, but not waiting for confirmation. Slowly taking a precious, intimate object from his partner into his hands, gently manipulating it, then returning it to his person, which requires physical touch in an intimate area (the tiddies).
And all of that is so Not Stede so far! Ed is usually the one we see reaching out, making the move, confident because they're in his world. Stede lets Ed dump the books out of Lucius's hands, hangs back (physically) while Ed deals with the racist French captain, leaves space between them at all times.
SO WHAT. WHAT is going through his head during this deeply complex and romantic exchange?
Settle in.
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While the "having a totally normal one with my platonic buddy Ed here" interpretation is hilarious and I enjoy it immensely, we cannot seriously watch that scene and think that is all that's going on for him.
However, I do think it's a stretch to say Stede was out there caressing silk and touching tits with the confidence and purpose of a man who wanted to seduce Ed. The story just doesn't bear that out.
So I'm gonna start by throwing some stuff out here about the scene in general.
The magic of moonlight.
We know the huge full moon is meant to be more symbolic here, but obviously the moon is having an effect on this interaction. Having had my due share of moonlit encounters, I can attest (as can many of us) that the moon is fucking magical. Sometimes some interpersonal shit is happening for which you don't have a label or any script or expectations, but you just ride the wave and do what feels right in the moment. That's what's going on for Stede here.
Stede is HIGH on his own competence rn. For once, Stede feels like he showed Ed something useful. Up to this point Stede has been identifying his "bad habits" in piracy and relying on Ed to do the real intimidation. Back there, Stede used what he knows about the upper crust to hurt them in ways a pirate could not: he found out their secrets, exposed them and let them burn their shit down. For once, he won a social interaction among the rich. And the looks Ed gives him after it's done? Ooh baby. He is more confident than he has been... "maybe ever."
He sees Ed's vulnerability. He cares for this man. He knows how much his crash to the earth must have hurt; Stede's always known these people were fickle bullshit who take any chance they can to hurt you, Ed has always pictured them as the ideal and thought he was right for a few brief hours before reality smacked him in the face. He also sees Ed manipulating a soft piece of fabric: whatever your thoughts on spectrum Stede, we have evidence of him comforting himself with soft fabrics. He can see Ed is hurting here and in need of some softness and love.
All this is to set up his approach and initial dialogue.
"I'm sorry tonight was a bit of a bust."
Translation: I see you're hurting, that sucked, let me make it seem like it was inconsequential so you don't feel as foolish.
"Oh, I don't know. I think you're quite sophisticated."
Translation: Don't sell yourself short. You look good, you carry yourself well and you're smart about things these people know nothing of. I like you, as a person."
"That's a lovely bit of silk you've got there."
Translation: I see who you are, even when you think no one is looking, and I like it. You're beautiful.
[Gotta break in here to say: Stede is now in Heart-Directly-Connected-To-Mouth Mode, with no brain bypass. He is speaking as he feels, without having planned to say anything like this, but he's trusting his heart for once.]
"Well, sometimes the old things are the best things."
Translation: Don't put yourself down. Your past is part of what makes you who you are. Wrinkles, scars, regrets - they're part of the beauty.
"May I?"
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GIF from @jaysmentalspace
[Oh, besties, we're really in it now.]
Stede is fully acting on instinct now. He knows he needs to ask first, to be polite, and he goes slow because he truly wants Ed to be able to end this if he wants to. He gently, slowly pulls the silk through Ed's fingers. He knows silk feels good on skin. He knows Ed loves this and has had it for a long time. He knows that if Ed trusts him with this, it will deepen their bond.
Stede, as we all know, is taking Ed's heart in his hands. Ed doesn't offer it, per se, but he lets Stede see it, appreciate it, and then take it. And the taking itself brings pleasure, even if Ed is apprehensive. He does not want it to stop.
Stede carefully (but not precisely or crisply) folds the silk into a pocket square. He takes something beautiful, personal, well-worried and time-worn in his hands, and makes it look beautiful. Fancy, even. And he gives it back to Ed in this condition, touching him near his real heart (which by now is surely pounding to beat the band, which Stede can surely feel) in a way that will show its beauty to anyone who sees it.
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But right now, it's just the two of them.
GIF by @chamblerstara
"Look at that. You wear fine things well."
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Translation: Softness becomes you. Your heart is beautiful. When you show who you are, you are beautiful. You are worthy. You have always been worthy, because you're you. You deserve fine things. You are a fine thing. And I see you. And I like what I see.
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GIFs by @jaysmentalspace again
This last is important because, watching it, I don't think alla that comes through on Stede's face. I don't know that Stede even realizes that he's revealing all this. But I maintain that it's there.
Then Ed does his heart-melting half-scoff of pleasure and embarrassment here.
And then Stede. Stede makes this FUCKING FACE just to torment me
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GIF from @softpyrate
What's going on gayboy. What lonely thought is racing through that pretty little head.
Seriously though I love this look because. It is so vague and complex. It could mean so many things. I would love to pick Rhys's brain about this one.
At first blush it looks like he's sort of surprised at how much his actions in the last minute have affected Ed. I think this is where the "just having a totally normal one" interpretation can be strongest.
HOWEVAH
I think, having now rewatched the scene many, MANY times, that Ed's face betrays him here. On the scoff, I think he's revealing himself. I think that is the moment we are meant to see that we are truly, undeniably in an intimate moment. Up til this point, if someone else had come on deck, they probably would have acknowledged them without flinching. Now, it's clear, this is A Moment. Many of us have had similar things happen in close relationships: now this conversation is private.
And I think Stede sees that and, for the first time in a while, his brain is looped in to what's happening. He's confused a minute, but then remembers what's going on in his heart, what he really has been saying the last few minutes. And he realizes Ed understands, too, and that this could be more than friendship.
He doesn't realize he's in love with Ed, consciously, until he talks to Mary, in my opinion. But this scene, this moment, IS a turning point for Stede, too.
As @not-she-which-burns-in-it pointed out in their INCREDIBLE posts on breathwork in this show, Stede opening his mouth here could be that he's going to say something, while Ed may have interpreted his breath in as a precursor to a kiss. I agree with the breathwork expert here: Stede realizes Ed is going to do something and panics a little. His brain really hasn't fully caught up yet, so when Action Is Taken, Bodies Are Moving, Stedebrain goes "ABORT ABORT DO NOT UNDERSTAND."
The brilliant @stedebonnit has devastated us with the truth that Stede has probably never felt desired in his life. Think of that: never. Not romantically, and also not in any other way. And a kiss as a romantic moment between people who care deeply for one another?
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Of course the spell is officially broken when Ed sees Stede react and then says "OK!" and Stede goes "YUP" and they say their goodnights. Worth pointing out that the shoulder touch and "night-night" are both very sweet, tender things Ed is leaving Stede with. He is not trying to hide how he feels.
The mutual look-back is. Aaahh. Beauty and pain. Now that the moment has passed, the carriage is once again a pumpkin, they both have a sense of unreality as they separate. They have to look back to anchor themselves. "You still there? My friend? Was that you? Did that just happen? Was that only my wildest dreams or did we just almost kiss?"
We then see Ed here, but not Stede. I have to believe Stede had an expansive, complex feeling in his chest all that night. He probably remembered what he said, tried to remember what was going through his head at each moment (but he can't because the answer is Nothing mostly), and tried to fit his feelings and Ed's words/actions into the very narrow view of the world, and himself, he had heretofore accepted as objective reality.
He can't, of course. I hope he went to sleep with a smile on his face and a sweet, gentle ocean wave in his heart. Allowed himself to just enjoy what he had without needing to completely understand it.
But his world changed that night, because he loved Ed.
💙🌕💜
I always love discussion on my stuff but please be kind, I am here for fun and love 💕
As always call me out if I've been problematic, I want to fix it.
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writingpracticetime · 7 months
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Did you have any thoughts, story-wise, on what Sandy herself thinks of all this and what her circumstances are? There are of course the inferences that can be made from that letter she got sent (and more specifically that it was turned over unopened) but is/was she in the public eye? Is she kept under close observation in case Constructor/Architect tries to approach her directly, and so on?
Oh I absolutely do have story thoughts about Sandy's opinions on everything. But the trouble with Sandy is--
————————————
Excerpts from recordings of meetings between the Architect and various associates.
————————————
CYBERSCOUT
--and, sorry, remind me why we care?
CONSTRUCTOR
We need to try to anticipate the general public objections to this. We won't be able to avoid them, not when we're going to be breaking so many laws. But we can at least anticipate them and get our own narrative out in advance. 
HOBBES
I don't think you get the question. We're villains. Why are we tiptoeing around "public objections?"
CONSTRUCTOR
Because, this is ultimately for the public. We need to try and get out the word about how people are asking for our help, so people know we're responding to their needs. Besides, we can’t accomplish anything for the public without the public. Like Sandy said.
CYBERSCOUT
Who?
CONSTRUCTOR
My--nevermind. Anyway, as I said, let me try to figure things out with Lethe for a minute.
CYBERSCOUT
Alright, alright. I needed to head out anyway, just call me when you have an idea of what shit you want me to spread online.
(Shuffling, people leaving and closing the door behind them.) 
CONSTRUCTOR
So you should have a better idea of what people are going to say to all of this. (Pause) Lethe?
LETHE
Sandy...? Cassandra White?
CONSTRUCTOR
You know her?! (Pause) Wait, then--what does she think about me now? Has she--
LETHE
Oh, u-uh no, sorry. I haven't--I never met her, never stood close enough to read her mind certainly. I-I wouldn't know what she thinks about you.
CONSTRUCTOR
...Oh.
LETHE
I just... heard a lot about her.
CONSTRUCTOR
...Funny. Not many people have.
LETHE
Yeaaaaah, um.
——————————
Blog post by Edward Katzenberger, journalist. Later removed and found on wayback.archive.org.
——————————
WHO IS CASSANDRA WHITE?
So, my long term followers all know about my hilariously derailed profile of Constructor assigned shortly before the stadium incident. I’ve kept you all abreast of the many, many delays related to high security super prisons and then my subject running off to start a supervillain career. Because of course, the second I get assigned this extremely exciting personality piece, Constructor becomes completely unreachable.
Alright, well, you might not believe me, but Constructor's manager/agent turned out to be even harder to reach.
At the time, I decided to take the "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" approach and paint a portrait of Constructor based on the testimonies of coworkers, friends and family. I then found out that I could get testimonies from construction workers and urban planners about what the hero was like to work with (largely positive, if saddened by the recent turn of events) but nothing on what this incredibly beloved figure was like as a friend or family member.
The one thing I kept hearing from everyone was "Cassandra White would know more. The two of them seemed really close."
Now there was a problem: I couldn't find out who the fuck Cassandra White was.
———————————
BONFIRE
You got a--Oh, sorry. Working on something right now?
CONSTRUCTOR
Not work. I'm just-- (sounds of paper, flipping and folding it as Bonfire gets close) Just writing something.
BONFIRE
Writing...?
CONSTRUCTOR
Just scrawling out some thoughts, I guess.
LETHE
Mm. (Quiet) What are you both looking at me for?!
CONSTRUCTOR
What was that about?
LETHE
What was what about??
BONFIRE
Something about the writing...?
LETHE
Nothing! Nothing about the writing. I was just, I was making a noise. Thinking about something else, hahaha.
BONFIRE
.....What is it?
CONSTRUCTOR
Nothing! ... Lethe.
LETHE
I'm sorry! Don't be mad at me!
CONSTRUCTOR
I'm not mad! That was just--that was private.
BONFIRE
What was private?
LETHE AND CONSTRUCTOR
Nothing!
CONSTRUCTOR
(After a pause) ...I was just writing to Sandy again.
BONFIRE
(Irritated, sizzling noise) Ah, right. Sandy.
CONSTRUCTOR
See! This is why I didn't want to tell you.
BONFIRE
I don't see why you couldn't--
LETHE
Leaving! I'm leaving!
————————
It turns out Cassandra White was Constructor’s agent. I try to look her up online and? Nothing. No facebook profile, no personal website, not even a LinkedIn. 
That has to be odd for someone who works in PR, right?
I do a little searching to find the agents of other superheroes. I contacted one, and got an interview. I've lost the thread of trying to piece together Constructor's life but I'm curious dammit. I mention the issue I've had with finding her anywhere. He nods his head while I explain the wild goose chase I've been on.
"Well, White is a whole other ballgame," he says. "She took her privacy seriously, and I'm also pretty sure she scrubbed a lot of her history. She was meticulous about records--knowing names in media, tech, and various public archives who could help you scrub a dumb tweet before it snowballed into a PR crisis for your client."
"You can get rid of internet records?"
"Well, not easily. And not after people realize they're important, that's for sure," he said. "I once told her things on the internet are forever. She said, 'No. If people pay attention, then they're forever. But if no one cares in the first place, then it never existed at all.'"
"So there was a process she used to make sure people's images stayed clean," I said, "And she used the same process to make herself a ghost?"
"I imagine so. I mean, she's retired from being an agent and has her fingers in all sorts of other pies these days. Businesses, investments, politics. Plus, I imagine becoming a billionaire or whatever has made her priorities shift."
Billionaire. I think I almost choked on my coffee. "You can become a billionaire from being a PR agent?"
"You can't," he said. "But White did."
—————————
DOC
--nd now that we got that patched up, this is the part where you tell my why the fuck the police caught you anyway.
CONSTRUCTOR
Uhh... Dunno. Not sure how they found me.
DOC
Where did they track you down?
CONSTRUCTOR
Um... I'm not feeling up for this conversation right now.
HOBBES
It was that new square in York XIV that looks like a Whole Foods staged a violent invasion.
DOC
....okay, is there a reason you decided to be wandering alone around in an area with shit ton of white moms ready to call the police on your ass?
CONSTRUCTOR
....Yeah, I was alone because I thought everyone here would tell me not to go. (Sigh) Look, I'm not gonna–
CYBERSCOUT
(poking head in) The Whole Foods place? Oy, isn't that where that old chick you're stalking has a house?
CONSTRUCTOR 
I'm not--I was delivering a letter.
HOBBES
 ....wait a minute, I remember this. "Sandy" right? Your mom? The one who turned you into the FBI?
CONSTRUCTOR
She's not my mom. (Pause) And no, she turned in my letter--which she would have to, if she was being monitored. I thought if I--
CYBERSCOUT
Wasn't she also a racist? Wasn't that a whole fight you had with Bonfire?
HOBBES
(Judgmental) You act all woke and then you go and try to be friends a racist who lives in the Whole Foods district.
CONSTRUCTOR
She's not a--That's not what the fight--this is why I went alone!
———————
This conversation afforded me with a lot of more information which I am saving for a piece on the lives of superhero PR agents, which I am now utterly fascinated by. Regarding Cassandra White, the other significant info it afforded me was that Cassandra White does in fact have a twitter account that I missed in my earlier search.
I looked into it. It's the most inoffensive twitter account I've ever seen. It feels like it was generated on a factory belt. There is a headshot of an older white woman--Cassandra White herself, it seems--as the profile pic. She tweets very rarely herself, and instead seems to mostly retweet news updates and positive platitudes or quotes from historical figures. The tweets she does make are all of an extremely inoffensive liberal variety, with the spiciest being one gentle snipe at the Republican party.
There is one other hint of her personality on this twitter. It’s an unexpected photo from inside her home, one with a quick caption that says she regularly uses a whiteboard to write out her resolutions and thoughts, and that she finds the process to clarify her goals and values. 
It reads:
IT WILL BE DONE QUIETLY.  IT WILL BE DONE CIVILLY.  IT WILL BE DONE RIGHT–OR IT WON’T BE DONE AT ALL. 
—————————
CONSTRUCTOR
Alright, alright. We can talk more about this tomorrow but for now tell them no more death matches and any blood feuds need to be put on hold when they enter this fortress.
HOBBES
(Grunts) Pussy move.
CONSTRUCTOR
I don't care if it's a pussy move.
CYBERSCOUT
Ahem--what if I made the point that you're being culturally insensitive by imposing your mainstream standards of civility on a subculture of people, villains, who have their own values in how they deal with conflict, and--
CONSTRUCTOR
I know you bet on the fights and you're not changing my mind.
CYBERSCOUT
No fun. (sigh) Lethe, I TOLD you not to snitch on me!
LETHE
I didn't!
CONSTRUCTOR
Anyway, we can figure out a more long term solution for dealing with serious vendettas but for now--I'm tired. I have something else I need to work on. Tell them not to kill each other.
HOBBES
What are you writing that's more important than a potential deathmatch, anyway?
CONSTRUCTOR
Nothing. Just-- (Shuffling of papers) leave me to it for tonight. I don't want to set a precedent where I rush over every time someone wants to kill someone else, because given the personalities here that would mean never having any time.
CYBERSCOUT
Fiiiiiiiine.
(Grumbling and footsteps as people shuffle out, followed by writing noises.)
LETHE
Hey.
CONSTRUCTOR
What? (Pause) You know what I'm doing.
LETHE
The last time you tried to deliver something….
CONSTRUCTOR
I'll send someone else to deliver it.
(More scribbling. Deep breath.)
LETHE
I lied. I read her mind. She doesn't care about you.
(Writing stops. After a slight pause, there is the sound of paper crinkling and Lethe gasps and steps back.)
LETHE
Don’t be mad at me!
CONSTRUCTOR 
(Deep, strained breath) I’m not mad. You're just wrong.
LETHE
I could literally read her mind!
CONSTRUCTOR
Okay, you're not wrong.  You're lying.
LETHE
What? I'm not!
CONSTRUCTOR
(Fuming) You think I'm an idiot just because I haven't been calling you out on it? Everyone here knows you lie about what your powers show you whenever it suits your purposes.
LETHE
(Wobbly) I--I don't have a reason to lie about this!
CONSTRUCTOR
You don't have a reason that I know. But you are such a fucking liar. No one in the fortress trusts a thing you say, and you know it. 
LETHE
Th-that's not--That's not relevant! Oh my god, you're literally never going to even consider this, a-are you? That she was just using you for the cut of your paycheck, making her fortune...
CONSTRUCTOR
I'm not going to re-evaluate a decade long perception of a loved one based on the words of a known liar, Lethe. Get out.
LETHE
But--
(Rumbling, cracking of the floor.)
CONSTRUCTOR
I said get out!
———————————
The twitter account confirms she exists and nothing else. I couldn't tell you what the woman thinks about anything. On a website people use to blast their opinions to the world at all hours, this one seems specifically built to deny the existence of any individual opinions or personality. 
I scrolled all the way back to the time period during which Constructor would have had the big public meltdown at the stadium. I used the wayback machine to see if there were any deleted tweets, just in case she said anything in a fit of frustration or grief and deleted it.
But during the time where she would have been watching Constructor's breakdown, a time when everyone in the world had something to say about what Constructor had done--nothing.
Cassandra White, Constructor's closest person, had nothing to say about them at all.
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