#not a lot of job opportunities that pay anything and i live so far from anything that could be considered a community of people like me and
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-_-
#it's just. so frustrating because like i'm trying so so hard to give myself the best chance to succeed in the future#but it just feels so horribly hopeless because i just so happened to be born at a time when capitalism is collapsing in on itself so theres#not a lot of job opportunities that pay anything and i live so far from anything that could be considered a community of people like me and#i know if i keep working it's not going to suck AS bad but it's still gonna suck bad and hurt a lot. yknow?
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—dense; kaz brekker.
ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 2,2k words.
ʚ you're a bit clueless as to why the dirtyhands do the things he does, like call you schatje and pay you to steal something when he clearly doesn't need to.
ʚ fluff.
ʚ a/n maybe ooc kaz im sorry. more at the end!
Ketterdam is a marvel from afar, a pretty little flower offering promises of its nectar—new life, new opportunities, debauchery—only to catch you in its trap and swallow you whole. All the way up on the clock tower, roughly centralised in the port city, the Barrel is nothing more than bright lights emanating from bar signs and glittering roofs.
The bell rings, reveberating to signal the change of the hour. It's time to work, finally.
Your boots thump as you make your way down the spiraling concrete staircase, paying attention not to step on the chunks flaking off of the edge. Whoever was responsible for building this was clearly cutting cost, the concrete is about as fragile as clay.
A painting. It is an annoying job to do on your own, but your contractor offered a lot of Kruge for it—perhaps too much, but if Mr. Kikkert is willing to scrape his pockets for it, then you're more than happy to accept. It is more Kruge than you would ever need for a while, so you won't have to scrounge for scraps in this Ghezen-forsaken town. Moreover, it's been a while since your last job and you're frankly not doing too well.
You step lightly over the rooftops, hopping from building-to-building with sure, steady steps. You have done this for most of your lives, to avoid being stomped into the vile muck at the bottom of the Barrel, you learned to hide near the skies.
Where the painting is being kept isn't far from the Canal, just on the rows of overpriced apartments for rent. You were told that it was housed on the third floor of the corner building. Everything is going well. Your journey is uninterrupted and the stadwatch aren't on alert.
Until you spot him.
The familiar curve of his black hat. The high collar of his coat. The shining leather of his gloves.
Brekker.
You strut towards him as if you are neighbours crossing paths on your evening walks. When in truth, his Crow Club is on the other side of the town and you never come to this area without reason. You call his name sweetly. His head whips around immediately, finding you in the dwindling foot traffic of the street.
He says your name in a warning tone, suspicious of your being here.
“What? Can't I come and see an old friend?”
Brekker scoffs. “I don't know. Can you, schatje?”
You almost turn around and leave when you hear the term of endearment. He knows it gets under your skin—it always does. Your heart skips a beat or two and your train of thoughts gets interrupted whenever he calls you that. He means it as a jeering nudge and your head is wholly aware of that. Your heart, though. What a fickle little thing.
“A bit of a walk from the club, isn't it?” you say, falling into step next to him as he turns the corner towards the apartment building. “I assume you must be up to something.”
“Ah, but I'm always up to something.”
“I can't say I disagree,” you snort. “You don't happen to have a job around the area, do you?”
He halts, his cane knocking against the stone pathing. He turns to look at you and your elbows brush against each other. “Do you need anything? I have important matters to attend to.”
You bring a hand to your chest exaggeratedly, feigning a frown. “How callous. Call me schatje and throw me aside. Is this how you treat everyone, Kaz?”
“Only you, mijn schatje.”
You roll your eyes, unsure how to behave. Huffing, you say, “Stop calling me that.”
“I was under the impression that you liked the nickname.”
Oh, you do.
“I'll be going now. I've something to do. Stay off my job,” you warn. “You still owe me literal crown jewels from last time.”
Kaz's neutral expression shifts into fond nostalgia as he recalls the incident you're referring to. The crown jewels in question were under dispute by a pair of soon-to-be divorcees. One of them hired the Crows' help. The other called on you. One thing led to another and the item ended up in Kaz's hands and you went home empty-handed.
“I won that fair and square,” Kaz retorts. “Your current job wouldn't involve a certain painting, would it?”
Judging by his smug thin smile, you know that he knows.
“Tell me it isn't what you're here for.” You sigh exasperatedly. “Stay off of it, Brekker. I can't afford to lose another job.”
You think to be threatening, bluff your way out and tell him you'll tear down his Crow Club if he gets in your way, but you doubt it will work against the Dirtyhands. After all, you're one person and he has the whole Dregs behind him.
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment and for that terrible moment, you think that he may be there for the same reason you are, but he shakes his head lightly. “Fortunately, schatje, no. Stop looking as if you're going to murder me in my sleep.”
An involuntary smile blooms. “I wouldn't dream of it, Kaz.”
“Go on, then,” he says. “Be careful.”
You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep from smiling. “You too.”
With that, you part ways with Dirtyhands, entering the building. Your acquisition of the painting goes smoothly and the deal is closed swiftly a few hours later. It's too easy. You know it is. You're missing something.
Miss something, you did.
You push open the door to the Crow Club carelessly. The loud chatter mixed with atmospheric radio surges to meet you as you push your way past sweat-slicked bodies and drunken patrons. Your eyes dart back-and-forth, trying to spot the familiar curve of his black hat or the shiny glow of the head of his cane.
Jesper spots you from one of the open gambling tables.
“If it isn't my favourite thief,” he says, inclining his glass towards you. “Fancy a game?”
It isn't until you stop by his table that he sees the downward slope of your frown and the sharp glare you're giving. He instinctively sits up straighter, taking his shoes off of the corner of the table.
“Where's Brekker?” You ask, to-the-point, without indulging in your usual chit-chat whenever you visit.
The other three patrons on the table freeze—sensing the tension on your shoulders, too. They look between you and jesper, both confused and intrigued to know more. What is Ketterdam if it doesn't have rumours and secrets whispered about?
Jesper's brow furrow. “Are you okay? What's going on?”
To Jesper's knowledge, you and Kaz are on friendly terms, despite the frequent bickering. Hell, he assumes you're more-than-friendly, with the way Kaz gives you a nickname—an endearment, to be specific. Is it possible that you're going through a lover's spat?
“Brekker, Jesper. Where is he?”
A familiar rasp cuts through the rowdiness. “Here.”
Your head whirls around and you shoot an accusatory stare at the source of the voice. You stomp your boots as you make your way towards him. As you pass by him, you tug on the sleeves of his coat.
“We need to talk.”
“Hold on, schatje,” he says, still trailing after you. His cane knocks against the hardwood of the floor. “About what?”
You make your way up the stairs, to the second floor and swing the door to his office open as if it belongs to you. He has an eyebrow raised when he enters after you, closing the door behind him. He leans back against it, waiting for you to speak whatever it is that's on your mind.
“Kikkert,” you snarl. “You paid him to pay me.”
“That's quite a conclusion. How did you come to it?” His voice is level, not betraying whether or not you've spoken the truth.
You're pacing in front of him. “He says, and I quote, ‘If you're so close to Brekker, why doesn't he ask you himself to do this?'”
His eyes furrow and he runs a hand through his combed hair. He sighs, holding a hand up in a you-caught-me gesture. “Kikkert clearly has no idea what discretion means.”
You glare at him. “Do you think this is funny?”
He seems taken aback. “I don't see why this is a big deal, schatje. It's a job. You're paid. I get the painting. What's wrong with it?”
“Why are you doing this, then? Pay me for something you clearly are able to do yourself? Hell, whose painting was it? Was it yours? Did you pay me to steal from you?”
He doesn't reply, but the way he shifts his gaze away from you let's you know. It's as clear as a verbal admission.
“It was yours. That's why you were there. From your safehouse, wasn't it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Is this amusing to you? I'm sorry if I don't quite see it as such.”
“Schatje—”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
You can't wrap your head around Kaz Brekker's thinking process. He pays someone to pay you to steal a painting he already owns. What's his plan in the long run? To embarrass you? Hurt your pride? Is this some sort of ploy to rope you to be indebted to him?
He sighes. “You were struggling. I only wanted to help.”
“Dirtyhands doesn't help people. You don't run gangs the way you do charities,” you retort.
Is that all you see him as? The demjin? The one who's willing to stain his hands for the right price? Is there no other version of him in your eyes?
“You're forgetting the man behind the monster here,” he says softly.
“Am I?” You approach him, leaving a little over two steps in-between the two of you. “Who exactly is the man behind Dirtyhands then?”
He pushes himself off of the door, taking one step forward. The thump of his cane practically echoes in the room. The hustle bustle of the Crow Club is nothing more than a muffled sound. There's a sudden tension in the air—the same one that hangs over you whenever he calls you his schatje, but this one is heavier due to your lack of light-hearted banter to parry.
“Do you really not know?” he asks, as if the question is staring at you in the face. As if it's the most obvious thing in all of Kerch. His stare is heavy, dark irises acting like magnets that pull you in. He scoffs, “You really are dense.”
“Well, enlighten me, Brekker! None of this is making a lot of sense to me.” You let out a frustrated huff of breath. Your hands move wildly to stress your points. “You know what? Whatever it is, I don't want to know. Just — quit doing it. I'll never take another job from Kikkert. I'll stay away from your damned club and all your friends. I'll stay away from you. I'm a capable enough thief without your pity, Brekker. I don't need it. You can shove it up your—”
His gloved hand wraps around your wrist as it's flailing in the air. Your speech immediately comes to a halt and your eyes widen.
“You are impossible,” he says.
You snort. “And you aren't?”
“At the moment, no,” he retorts.
His stare is intense. It isn't until then that you realise you've taken a step forward during your rant, decreasing the perfectly amicable distance and turning it into a heart-thundering one.
“It wasn't pity,” he says. “You're capable, I have never doubted that, but even the most capable ones struggle sometimes. My intention is to help. Trust me on this. I know you're too prideful to accept any, so I paid Kikkert.”
“But why? Why bother?”
“Why?” He blinks, sighing loudly before continuing. “Why? Have you ever stopped and thought, for a moment, that I've been calling you schatje. Do you think that was out of pity?”
You bite the insides of your cheek and shake your head. “It was something else.”
“Has it ever crossed your mind that it's because —ghezen forbid— I may actually harbour fondness for you?”
You blink once, twice. Kaz thinks he much prefers breaking into the ice court than having this conversation right now. His hand trembles when he brings them to brush your cheekbone lightly. He lets out a relieved sigh when you don't pull back. Your hand wraps over his gloved one, the leather cold on your skin. You lean into the touch.
“I thought it was one-sided,” you say finally. “I'm quite fond of you, too, you know.”
“You do a horrible job of showing it.”
“Says you,” you argue. “Just—don't do it again. Let me handle my own problems, Kaz. I'll let you know if I need your help.”
He hums in agreement. “You'll let me know.”
“I will.”
The two of you jump apart abruptly when there's a loud knock.
“Boss?” Jesper's voice sounds muffled through the door. “Everything okay? I hope ___ hasn't murdered you yet.”
“I haven't,” you answer, half-chuckling. Turning to look at Kaz, you say, “It's funny how he doesn't assume you'll murder me instead.”
Kaz shrugs. “He knows I can't.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Can't or won't?”
“Both,” he answers. “Can we not talk about murdering each other after what just happened?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks. What just happened is you practically professing your little (well, maybe not-so-little) crush on him.
“So, is Kaz okay?” Jesper shouts again.
“Fine,” Kaz answers. “You can go back to your table.”
[ ]
i wanted to write something cute. schatje is taken from google and inspired from a kaz fic i read that used 'schatz' as a nickname. the plot is slightly ehhh? because it didn't really end the way i intended it to and i didn't proofread (when have i ever?). i was hoping to turn it into a two or three part series, but this is what we've ended up with & im quite happy with it. thank you for reading!
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A couple of days ago I came up with a new Jedtavius au, and I would like to share it with you buddies.
Celebrity x Bodyguard AU!!!
So, basically the concept is that Jed is a very popular country singer and Oct is an always grumpy bodyguard, his personal driver, and something like a servant in combination with his main occupation.
In addition to that, @average-jedtavius-enjoyer came up with the idea of Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah being a music band, which eventually broke up under some circumstances (I decided to include this here because I like this concept).
And here are some details/headcanons regarding that au:
Larry is a good friend of Jed's; from time to time, using his own income and opportunities, he helps him organize any events or concerts.
I was also thinking of making Larry a producer or something like that, but I've put that idea on hold for now.
Octavius has been working as a bodyguard for quite a while and with many popular people; this is his basic way of spending time and making a living.
Octavius is a big fan of Jed's songs, he has listened to each song he has performed. Eventually, he becomes a big fan of Jed in general.
Larry provided some help for Octavius to get a job as Jed's bodyguard, since Larry is his good friend and helper (he had to wait some time for the other bodyguard to quit their job).
Jed performs country songs, but in a more modern style.
Jed likes to dress fashionably (in a cowboy style or something similar to that). Octavius, on the other hand, wears an exclusively black suit with a red shirt.
Deep in his soul Jed is quite an anxious person; he gets nervous about his performances and concerts, although he desperately tries not to show it to anyone. Even to Larry. Because of that, he has pretty depressive periods sometimes.
In the very first month of "working together," they barely even talk: Jed either greets him at the very beginning of the day or tells him what to do (pay for his dinner, drive him to some places, etc.). Octavius didn't expect much talking with him, but over time it started to make him a little upset.
All things change when Jed suddenly has one of those bad times, and Octavius tries his best to help him feel better because he pretty much cares about him and his emotional state. Jed begins to understand that Oct sees in him not a popular singer or anything like that, but a person.
Since then they have started to interact more, much to Octavius' happiness (not that he will ever tell someone about it, at least not now.).
There have been rumors on the Internet for a while that Jed and Kahmunrah were in some sort of relationship. Is it true or not? Who knows.
Since Jed and Oct had started to interact and hang out with each other more, people on the Internet (mostly Jed's fanbase) began to talk a lot about them and even ship them.
That's all I have so far. If I come up with something else for this au, I'll make a reblog or maybe update this post. I hope y'all like this concept ✨
#THIS IS SO SILLY#i don't understand anything about popularity and stuff but i'm having fun#natm#night at the museum#natm fandom#natm au#natm jedediah#jedediah#natm octavius#octavius#jedtavius#natm larry#larry daley#natm ahkmenrah#natm kahmunrah#my headcanons#my ramblings
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Blue Eye Samurai Prompts
Part I
An assortment of prompts taken from the series Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix.
Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor.
Reblog, please do not repost or add.
“ Welcome, sir. I'll bring you some tea. ”
“ What are you? a dog? ”
“ Do you know who I am? ”
“ Must have important friends to own a gun like that. ”
“ Maybe I've been following you. ”
“ You put my bullet against your blade? ”
“ You dead-eyed, half blooded demon bastard! ”
“ My whole life I couldn't do anything right, but now I know what I'm supposed to do. ”
“ Please, let me be your apprentice. I'll do anything. ”
“ I'll do anything you ask, master. Anything so I can be just like you. ”
“ To a man lost in the dark, an ember can light the way. Thank you for my ember. ”
“ The heavens throw you a treasure. ”
“ You did not go. Have you somewhere to go? ”
“ Would be nice if someone kept proper time. ”
“ You look lost, lost boy. Come inside. ”
“ Most men grab first, ask prices later. ”
“ Have you ever been with a woman before? ”
“ You have a different duty, no? ”
“ Is that your price for me? ”
“ I forget you are a simple girl. ”
“ Have I defeated the undefeated? ”
“ I must deliver it personally. ”
“ Show your respect. ”
“ I came very far. I'm very hungry. ”
“ An impurity in the right place is quality. ”
“ It is a line. On one side of the line is life. The other, death. The edge we forge cuts the line between life and death. ”
“ Forgive me. I've kept from you a secret. ”
“ I know you're ugly. What is ugly to me? ”
“ A monster. A creature of shame. ”
“ They will all die by my hand. I vowed this. ”
“ A poor technique. Easily learned. Easily defeated. ”
“ Do I know you? ”
“ You climbed some heights to be the prize of a miserable lot. ”
“ You had a name for me. ”
“ Are you afraid to fight with steel? ”
“ No one has yet deserved my blade. ”
“ Death comes for everyone. For you, today. ”
“ Whatever business you have with him, you'll never reach him. ”
“ Revenge is like gold. It does not rust. ”
“ I can never repay your kindness. ”
“ I have no eyes, so... I can accept you. ”
“ You have spoken enough nonsense today. ”
“ You came to me as a stupid, lost boy. If you insist on leaving now, it will be as a stupid, lost man. ”
“ May I get you something to eat? ”
“ You move quietly for someone so large. ”
“ I don't want you anywhere near me. Stay away. ”
“ If I see you again, I will kill you and never think of you again. ”
“ You will not find what you seek at my side. ”
“ My whole life has been a battle. ”
“ Why didn't he just kill me? ”
“ Victory cannot come from dishonor. ”
“ Boom, there was blood everywhere! ”
“ You don't have to be here. ”
“ You need to train? I've never seen you fight. ”
“ You pay money for a job you don't wanna think about, so you don't think about it. It's the whole point of money. ”
“ Not everyone can be relied on. ”
“ After that, you'll be free to go anywhere you like. Any time you like. ”
“ Your fire is in this edge. ”
“ Is your mind clear? Is your soul at rest? ”
“ This hand has taken many lives. An assassin's hand. ”
“ I an the unexpected element. ”
“ Get dressed. ”
“ The boy is... Eager. ”
“ It is the best option for you. ”
“ I am giving you an opportunity. ”
“ Why didn't you stand up for me? ”
“ You think I don't know you, child? ”
#rp meme#rp memes#rp prompt#rp prompts#rp starter#rp starters#memes#starters#prompts#roleplay meme#roleplay prompt#roleplay starter#roleplay memes#roleplay prompts#roleplay starters#sentence meme#sentence memes#sentence prompt#sentence prompts#blue eyed samurai#netflix blue eye samurai#blue-eyed samurai
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Heaven and Earth / Creation of Heaven and Earth - 1
(Unproofread)
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[One week later, in the same meeting room.]
Keito: And so, for this past week, I completely immersed Kiryu in history.
Kuro: ……
Souma: Th- Thank you for your hard work, Kiryu-dono. Your face looks terrible, are you doing alright?
Kuro: Yeah… Don’t sweat it, Kanzaki, I’m good.
Kuro: I just dunno why I’m bein’ forced to study so hard, even though I’ve already graduated from school and moved on with my life.
Souma: What is life if not a learning experience? One could even argue that schooling is merely a means to lay the foundation for a lifetime of learning.
Kuro: Ha, you honor students are just built different.
Kuro: So? My results after bein’ immersed in history, how do they look…?
Souma: What historic feat did Ishida Mitsunari accomplish this time? I do not mean to poke fun at you, I merely have cautiously optimistic expectations!
Keito: Actually, our hard work was definitely worth it. There were far fewer strange answers compared to the previous test.
Keito: Though there were a lot more answers left blank, possibly for fear of being criticized like last time.
Kuro: Hmph. I can endure a physical beatin’, but I draw the line at bein’ beat up psychologically.
Kuro: Though I guess back then Hasumi danna was probably so shockingly disappointed that it put him in a foul mood.
Kuro: I’m pretty much used to Hasumi’s lecturin’ at this point, so you don’t gotta worry about it doin’ any real damage.
Souma: Umu. On the contrary, I am more concerned for Hasumi-dono. Hasumi-dono seems to regard Kiryu-dono as superhuman, capable of accomplishing anything.
Souma: The shock of having his partner, whom he respects so deeply, reveal such a weakness must have been great indeed.
Kuro: I mean you’ve probably known I’m an idiot for a while now, haven’t ya?
Keito: I disagree. In fact, after reading over these answers, I feel as though I may have to reconsider my stance. I underestimated you, Kiryu.
Kuro: Haha, I’d prefer ya not have too many expectations of me, actually.
Kuro: I’ve always been the kind of person that screws up when it matters most.
Keito: Even if we don’t take into account your score, the way you sincerely worked on your areas of weakness is worthy of praise.
Keito: Furthermore, this score is actually quite encouraging. After just one week of study, your improvement in comparison to your previous score is remarkable.
Keito: Of course, this score is objectively bad. However, the speed at which you absorb knowledge is incredible.
Kuro: Haha. It’s cause my head’s basically empty, so you can cram whatever ya want inside.
Keito: Exactly. That’s why we’ll have Kiryu take on the role of a ‘history student’ in order to be an audience-insert of sorts, while Kanzaki and I will act as the ‘teachers’.
Keito: I figured that if we took this approach, we’d be able to showcase the fun of learning history.
Keito: Additionally, it would mean Kiryu could take on the role as one of the hosts for ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ without having to force himself to become wiser on the subject in an impossible timeframe.
Kuro: You must really want to be on that ‘Rumblin’ somethin’ or the other’ educational show.
Souma: Certainly, it truly is an excellent show. It is both long-running and acclaimed, for which reason it would be a tremendous opportunity for us to host it.
Keito: My thoughts exactly. Also, I’ve received word from our agency, Rhythlink, that we are to take this job no matter what.
Keito: Which is why it would be great if we took it, or, to put it bluntly, we have no choice but to take it.
Kuro: So it’s basically just pressure from the higher-ups at Rhythlink again. That’s all they ever do in this agency.
Keito: It’s a pain, but that’s the tradeoff for the security of being under a well-established agency, so I have no room to complain.
Keito: It’s similar to how when you live in a safe country, you’re naturally obligated to pay a higher tax.
Souma: That is understandable.
Kuro: But why’d the agency ask us specifically?
Kuro: If that ‘Heaven and whatever’ show is so famous, just appearin’ on it must be an honor.
Kuro: I was under the impression that they’d give that sort of opportunity to an agency veteran they actually care about like usual.
Kuro: Why’d they give it to a buncha young folk like us this time?
Souma: Perhaps they have finally decided to give us the recognition we deserve?
Keito: Kanzaki’s line of thinking is a little overly optimistic, but that’s basically it.
Keito: Back during SS, which is widely considered the idol industry’s largest event, Rhythlink’s prized veterans fell from grace and failed to produce results. ¹
Keito: On the other hand, we newcomers, who had been overlooked on the basis of our youth thus far, managed to make a splash, and even made it to the finals.
Keito: What do you suppose happened next?
Kuro: The standin’ of the veterans and newbies might’ve been swapped.
Souma: Could it be a revolution?
Keito: Well, the world won’t turn on its head in a day, but that seems to be the trend these days.
Keito: The agency has come to expect more from us young people with momentum now, instead of their veterans who continually fail to deliver.
Keito: Their request to have us host ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is one possible indicator of this.
Keito: This is an opportunity for us as youth that have been smothered by our long-running agency until now. We must seize this opportunity, no matter what, and use it as a foothold for our future.
Kuro: Come to think of it, since ES was founded, we haven’t really been able to do anythin’ outstandin', huh?
Kuro: Cause we’re already at such a traditional agency, we can’t really use ‘tradition’, one of our main weapons, to our advantage.
Keito: There are also famous traditional performance artists to compete with. Well, we eventually managed to secure some sort of position in ‘revitalizing tradition’ and were able to get by like that.
Keito: No, in fact, I believe taking on a large role like being the host of ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ is precisely in line with the running theme of ‘revitalizing tradition’.
Keito: We’ll breathe a new life into this old show.
Keito: If it ends up being a big hit, then we may see more positive trends in the future.
Keito: We won’t turn our backs on and despise all that is old, but rather, fill them with a new brilliance. We are moonlight shining in the darkness of night.
Keito: That’s the ideal outcome. I believe that ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ could be a starting point for this.
Kuro: Hehe, I just know you’re thinkin’ of somethin’ ambitious like usual, danna.
Souma: That is what makes him Hasumi-dono, after all! I shall follow him to the very end…☆
Keito: Fufu. Don’t go singing my praises just yet, this is all just wishful thinking at the moment.
Keito: But I think we ought to work hard to make those dreams a reality. How do you feel about that, Kiryu, Kanzaki?
Souma: You needn’t ask. I had already made my feelings clear from the very beginning.
Kuro: I’m the same as Kanzaki on that front.
Kuro: I dunno if I’ll be any help with the studyin’ part, but I’ll give it my all, in my own stupid way.
Keito: Yes. Let us carve a new history into the halls of our long-established agency.
Keito: All three of us, together. To Rhythm Link, to ES, to the whole world—
Keito: Let us show them what AKATSUKI is.
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Translation Notes
Keito is referring to the events of Submarine, more specifically, Souma's plan to sabotage all of the Rhythlink veterans placed in Okinawa alongside them. If you haven't, I recommend reading that story first.
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i honestly feel like i was born in the wrong era. either im too old for something or someone or im past the point of being able to achieve something. then when looking at how all these kpop groups are so young yet successful and talented just makes me question why i didnt do something like that.
we didnt have kpop in my school time but why couldnt i have just picked something and stuck with it? on top of it i believe im never going to fit anyones ideal type so whats the point in existing cause no one gonna truly get to know me.
unless i can somehow pass away before im 50 then i dont have to continue to think about all this shit and how i shouldve done better or i shouldve picked such and such a career and i shouldve tried to put myself out there more but in my age theres really nothing out there to seek when its all handed to younger generations.
and i would want to have my own success based on my own effort but have fallen short in so many ways its impossible to not find something i could do about it bc im too far behind and it does get to a point where you think that it is too late bc in order to gain any talent you have to have done it from a young age.
i dont want to rely on someone else to do it for me but i couldnt do it myself due to personal situations. yet i feel like thats an excuse cause once again all these young idols seem to be ro have something about them that makes their life a success. like yes the end inudstry is far from perfect but thats what people have been seeking themselves so it cant all be that bad all the time for them if these groups including older age groups have went out got success and even they get all the benefits of the super rich lifestyle but at the same time money doesnt bring true happiness and it seems a very shallow way they live sometimes, they have a supply and demand contract with their audiences and rely so much on social media which although i use it im not attached to it and i cant relate to obsessing over latest dance trend. i also want to stop the woe is me narrative but its really fucking hard to not feel so ashamed, behind or negative about things.
the most advice people gove is bog standard like if ur bored, go out more but its hard not to feel left out, if ur loney go find someone, if u dont have an income go get a job its literally never that simple. even in education you still have to pay for it as an adult meaning you have to already have a job but even then theres still means of you getting misjudged for your age and classmates have already done that to me before it wasnt that fun. its like saying to someone depressed to go take medicine to take away the feeling.
idk what im doing anymore besides waiting to randomly pass away so i can be done with this shite. sorry for ranting so much but idk who else to speak too bc no one else never seems to understand my frustrations with the way things have panned out.
Comparing yourself to others people archievement is the worst thing you can do. because we are all different, we all go through different shits (just like you rightfully said) and not all of us have the same opportunities presented. beating yourself up for that is a cruel thing to do wishing yourself.
It does also seem like you struggle a lot with self worth, self love and that is probably because never once someone complimented you for the things that you have achieve (to this point were you believe you havent achieved anything).
Love, hatred that you carry is a motivator, and you need to accept one thing. as long as you are breathing nothing is to late to archive, as long as you are here you should be kinder to yourself. because why are you comparing yourself to idols? I often say this here but when was it the last time you appreciated life? when was the last time you went out, stared at the ocean, at the night sky, breathed into a forest, when was the last time you felt a sense of peace? seek that out. dwelling on what we could have been is cruel hun, and not helping you in any kind <3
its okay to rant, dont worry, I hope I dont sound to harsh either, its just that I pains me seeing you guys going through so much suffering when I promise you all, darkness cannot live without light. just find your way back to it, often you dont need a big reason. sometimes the most tiny thing can be a source of happiness, seek yours !
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The Healer
Summery: Brylee McCall is the sister of Scott. Though she lacks supernatural powers, she helps where she can. Which means becoming a nurse for both the natural and supernatural beings of Beacon Hills. Before she can blink an old friend shows up wounded and near dead on her doorstep. Only he’s not the same man that left Beacon Hills.
Pairings: Brylee McCallxChris Argent
Warnings: Blood/Gore
*not my Gif but all my writing!!
Part 1
It started raining at noon, then had proceeded to do so for hours on end. Most people complained about how bad it made the roads. How the rain clouded their vision, making the twists and turns of the road almost impossible to navigate. Then it made the back roads muddy, the low spots flooded, and so on down the list of complaints it went.
However I couldn’t find it in me to complain. When you lived in Beacon Hills for your entire life you became used to these things. You came to love them. Here it was mystical, and the drizzly weather amped up the feeling. Out there in the rain anything was possible. Anything could happen. Anyone could show up.
As the rain poured down I sat contentedly on my porch. Happy with the cup of coffee in my hand and the roof I had put over my head. The thing I had done on my own. A small yet cozy house situated on the outskirts of town. Far enough away that I could be back to my mom and brother should I need to. Yet far away enough that I had peace and trees surrounding my little safe haven.
Mom had loved the investment opportunity. The maturity of my decision. And had offered to pay a little on it to help me. I’d only asked for her signature to be a co-signer of the house. Scott loved the house simply because it provided a place for him and his little pack to hide away when school was over. Anytime I needed to leave town he was sure to “house sit” for me. Along with Styles, Lydia, and the rest of the gang.
I loved that I had my own place, but that my family was still near. Most of all I loved the work I did to provide for this house.
Once Scott was turned my nursing skills weren’t enough to keep him alive anymore. It was the same for Lydia and a lot of his pack. So I got closer to Deacon. He taught me his tricks and trades, skills that I could use to heal anything. Never again would I watch as wolfsbane was pumped into Scott’s system. I wouldn’t be helpless watching as some other unknown supernatural substance took hold of my brother and his pack.
When I first looked at this house, I saw not only a home, but a refuge. The unused garage was quickly turned into a mini exam room, hospital, and recovery spot. Filled with both medical supplies and things to help with the more supernatural injuries that came my way. Soon word spread and patients from all over in all kinds of forms were coming my way.
It filled my days and provided me with a sense of purpose stronger than what I’d had at the hospital. I was finally out from under the doctors’ thumbs and able to do my job to the best of my ability. And now no one posed the threat of having their secret exposed if they went to the hospital.
When my mom was on duty if she ran across the stray werewolf, or a few times a werecyote, she was sure to send them my way. I had regulars, like the Hales who couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. They were more than pleased to not have to go to the hospital and try to explain to the staff how they came about their injuries. And once in a while a hunter passing through town would stop by. Though that hadn’t happened in a while.
This week had been slow. A few stitches for a friend who didn’t have insurance. Along with two broken fingers for Scott that I had to set so they would start the rapid healing process. Typically when the rain started up the patients started to lessen. Everyone stayed inside safe and sound. Or they weren’t able to get to me because of the condition of the roads. I couldn’t help but be a little happy about the lull. Sometimes with it just being me out here things got busy. Mom helped when she could, though it wasn’t as often as I needed. So the downtime was nice.
As I took another sip of coffee, the dark roast warming me against the cool breeze that came with the rain, I heard tires grinding through the mud. In the distance headlights shook as the car hauled as fast as it could towards my house. The large black SUV ambled on, the giant tires cutting through the thick mud.
I quickly ran into the house, set down my coffee, flipped on the lights to the exam room and rushed back outside to meet the potential patient coming my way. I didn’t recognize the car which meant they were most likely from out of town. If my mother had sent them my way she would have called me so I could prepare.
The SUV barely slid to a stop in the slick mud in front of my house. A burly man covered in tattoos stepped out not minding the downpour of rain. “You Brylee Mckall, the healer,” he asked in a gruff voice. The gun strapped to his waist along with the gruff exterior suggested he was a hunter.
“Yes, do you have someone in the back?”
Instead of answering me he simply went to the back and opened the trunk of the black vehicle. I followed quickly, the cold now seeping into my bones. Adrenaline started pumping through my veins, preparing me for what was to come.
A blonde woman covered in blood looked up to me with desperate but clam eyes. I assessed her, looking for any sign where the blood might be coming from. However she seemed to be fine if not slightly shaken. Then looking down to where her hands were my heart threatened to stop altogether.
Blood pooled around him. His brow was bruised, along with his arms. The blonde woman’s hands were almost wrist deep into his torso, yet blood still pumped out of his large frame. The man’s salt and pepper beard was smeared with blood. And it was that face that I knew. One that I had fought against, then eventually came to rely on as a friend. Chris Argent lay unconscious, halfway dead in the back of the SUV.
“Help me get him inside,” I stepped into nurse mode and started assessing everything I could about him. I blocked out who he was and set out looking for every possible way to save him.
The large man hefted Chris onto his shoulders and followed me through the house. I could hear the faint dripping of his blood onto my floors. It pushed me to walk faster.
Opening the door, the exam table was halfway ready. I lowered the headrest, turning it completely flat so I could get to work. “Set him on the table,” I said as I snapped on a pair of gloves and grabbed the scissors.
I started cutting away his blood soaked shirt. Three large slashes cut across his torso. With all of the blood pouring I couldn’t see how deep they ran. Though if the cuts had nicked any kind of artery or major organ he would most likely be dead by now, that was promising. Barely.
Cutting away his jeans just to make sure there was nothing else I had to fix I asked the two confirmed hunters, “What happened?”
The blonde answered me with a snark in her voice, “What does it look like happened? He was attacked.”
“By what?”
Nothing on his legs other than some bruising. It didn’t look like anything was broken. I grabbed my suture kit and started dousing his chest in hydrogen peroxide. However, by the inflammation of his skin it seemed that infection was already starting to set in.
As I started to pack gauze into the wound to tamp down the bleeding the burly man answered me in a more somber tone than the female. “We don’t know, it’s what we were trying to figure out when things went south. There were reports of attacks like this two towns over, we thought it might be a wolf gone rogue. But once we got there we weren’t sure. When this happened before he passed out Chris insisted we bring him straight to you. Refused to go to anyone else.”
I had finally gotten the blood to staunch a little. Though it wouldn’t last long and Chris was starting to look a little pale. Luckily none of it was black so I didn’t have to figure out the mystery of what he had been brutalized by. Or face the threat of him turning into something.
Hustling to the fridge I grabbed a bag of O negative. There wasn’t time to type him and I had a large supply of O Neg. As quickly as I could I started a central line and hooked up the blood supply. It hadn’t been easy finding a vein, and it took me longer than I was comfortable with.
Starting back on the large wound the tattooed man spoke again, “Look, we have to get back and find the thing that got Chris before it gets anyone else. You good here?”
I hated the hunter’s mentality of dumping and running. They did it with everything in life. Chris had been different in that aspect. But his sister hadn’t. And neither had his late wife. The rest of them were all the same. Once you became useless to them they stopped caring what happened to you.
“I”ve got things under control here,” I said, starting to thread a needle to start stitching him up. I’d have to monitor him for internal bleeding, but I was praying that the lacerations didn’t run that deep.
Without another word to me the hunters left. It shocked me that they didn’t just dump him on the side of the road. Or leave him out in the woods to die. They didn’t seem like the type to get attached to anyone or anything.
Thoroughly and quickly I started to stitch him. His blood was starting to clot so it was beginning to lessen as I pulled the gauze from the first of the three long lashes. My heart eased only a little at the small victory. However the redness and puffiness had me worried. Red streaks were starting to crawl up his side.
Last I had heard of Chris was that after Allison had died he went off with a group of hunters. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to get away from it all. It was obvious to Beacon Hills that he and his wife hadn’t been head over heels in love. Though he was sad about her death Chris had pushed on. He’d had Allison to look after and comfort. He’d had a reason to go on. But losing his one and only daughter broke him. He’d loved her with his whole being, and once she was taken the man I had once known was gone.
He’d left town, and no one blamed him. I couldn’t remember the lie he had fed to the town about how Allison died. I did remember how it had hurt Scott. She had been his first love, his first everything really. She was sweet and easy to welcome into the works of things. I had lost my brother to grief for a while. He had coped somewhat. But how did a father cope?
I wondered if hunting things like what had taken his daughter helped. If it brought him any semblance of closure. Seeing some of the recent scars that were barely healed let me know that he was pushing the limits. Most likely he had half of a death wish. Which is what led him to my table in the first place.
He could have easily found a doctor or a hospital two towns over. Yet he drove the extra miles, wasted the extra time, lost more blood, just to get to me. Maybe he thought he would die on the way here.
After two hours, at least one hundred stitches, and a back ache to last a lifetime, he was finally in the clear. At least for now. I wrapped his wound, checked his blood pressure, and listened to his lungs. Both were clear and steady. His breathing sounded better than it had when he’d been brought in here. Now they were deep even breaths, no longer were they shallow and labored.
His blood pressure was starting to rise, and color was returning slowly to his face. All promising signs. I started him on antibiotics to start fighting the infection that was coming. The man was in for a long recovery.
I just prayed he stayed stable enough for me to keep him here.
#teen wolf#chris argent#Chris argent fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fandom#scott mccall#chris argent x reader#chris argent imagine#teen wolf imagine#imagines#fanfiction
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AITA for being suspicious of my boss/ brother's new protege? (Tag Game)
Another awesome open tag I haven't seen anywhere else, and I had to jump on from @smzeszikorova. This one was hilarious and gave me an opportunity to do the unreliable narrator thing and get into the POV of one of the villains from Good Slaves Never Break the Rules, although, for the maximum fun factor, I wrote it as if it could be a real letter from someone in our world.
Instructions: Write an AITA question from the POV of one your OCs.
This one's kind of involved, I know, but if anyone wants to try it, it's a good character-building exercise! Gently tagging:
@romanceandshenanigans @mysticstarlightduck @tabswrites
Anyway, for anyone who hasn't read the story and doesn't care about spoilers (or even if you have), I'm curious, based just on this, who do you think is the asshole here:
My half-brother (45M) and I (41F) are the most important people in each other's lives.
Below the cut are possible spoilers for Ch. 22 onward and mentions of noncon, trauma, and child abuse:
We were subject to severe abuse as children and our bond was the only reason we survived. Although we lost touch for a few years as kids, we eventually reconnected after he became financially successful. He's been a mentor to me ever since and even paid for my entire education, and now I work for him in his multimillion-dollar business as his head of research and development. I'm leading up a project that means a lot to both of us personally, a project so important it could disrupt the entire economy and change people's lives for the better all over the world. Achieving it is our lifelong dream!
The problem is, he's recently hired this new guy (19M) -- who has no formal education and has never even held a job, by the way -- who he seems convinced is scientifically gifted and that he is determined to make his protege in the business. They're hanging out together all the time and seem to be becoming BFFs. Plus, he's paying this guy almost as much as he pays me, gave him money for a brand-new designer wardrobe, and even a Porsche! And he's always talking about how great this new guy is; it's like he thinks he's the son he never had or something.
But I'm convinced the new guy is a complete fraud who must have somehow conned my brother into hiring him. First of all, he's telling my brother that I'm mentally unstable and I threatened and assaulted him (okay I admit it, I did, but it wasn't my fault! I'm traumatized from a childhood full of abuse and have trouble controlling my impulses sometimes. I'm working on it in therapy -- or at least I was before I got thrown out for allegedly trying to grope my therapist, but it was all just a misunderstanding.)
Even worse, the new guy is always snooping around the office and going places he shouldn't. He claims he's looking for his missing sister (17F), who used to work here, but I don't know anything about that! He's even gone so far as to claim that I'm defrauding the company and exploiting and harming the young women who work for me, which is ridiculous. In exchange for them helping me with my research, I'm giving them money, housing, support, and a better life than they ever dreamed of, which is more than I got as a child!
Bottom line, I think he's a liar, a con artist, and is trying to alienate my brother from me so he can take over the business and destroy everything we're building.
I told my brother everything, but he doesn't believe me! He claims I'm just jealous and paranoid and that I must just want to bang this guy (okay, maybe, but that's beside the point, and besides, I feel that way about pretty much everyone. What can I say, I have a healthy sex drive). And also that I'm just trying to distract my brother from the fact that my project is stalled and making no headway -- even though everyone knows groundbreaking research takes time and can't be rushed!
I can't believe my brother isn't supporting me in this. He knows how fragile and traumatized I am, but he sometimes forgets, which is why I try to remind him of it as much as I can. AITA for being afraid of losing my brother and everything we've worked so hard for?
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Candy Girl Chapter One: New Beginnings
Story summary: You’re a regular jaded intern working towards a job in the Senate until one day, you lose the job to someone who couldn’t be less qualified. In search of a new job, you find a specific program catering to clones. It’s more of an escort program than anything else, but that’s fine by you. What they didn’t tell you is the job would lead to love, loss, and uncovering the truly dark city of Coruscant.
Chapter summary: It’s a brand new day on Coruscant. A brand new day means new ways to get screwed over until you decided enough is enough and to take matters in your own hands.
Author’s note: The rewrite is here! And by rewrite I essentially mean overhaul because wow. I changed way more than I thought I was going to when I started this. I think this updated version is tighter and better. I’m hoping y’all enjoy this as much as you did the original! I’ll be taking down the original in about a week, so you have until then to read it and come back to this one
Also big thank you to @galacticgraffiti for beta’ing this!
Warnings: Referenced abusive workplace dynamics The reader doesn’t see it/it doesn’t occur to them, but it does happen.
Coruscant is fairly quiet.
It's not utterly silent; this planet could never be completely silent. Too many people live on Coruscant for it to ever be completely and utterly quiet. Even the upper levels have a consistent level of noise.
As you stare out the window of the shuttlebus, you can see lights slowly beginning to flip on in the large apartment buildings. The sun hasn’t risen yet but threatens to do so. Some office buildings have lights on as well, although there’s no telling if it’s people who stayed far too late or people arriving early.
Once you get off the shuttlebus, you stop to adjust what you’re carrying. Your bag is slung over your shoulder, and you’re trying your best to balance a tray of caf on top of a box of donuts. You hold the box in one hand so you can get a better hold on the extra carafe of caf you have. Once you have that settled, you settle the box of donuts on your forearms and head towards the Senate building.
After several minutes of walking, you stop to take in your surroundings. It's sunrise. Golden rays peek from behind the main building. It’s beautiful. Not the building itself, but the light. The sun rising behind the Senate casts the buildings in darker shadows. It seems almost like a void, a large space of ominous nothingness looming over the horizon.
You shake your head. It’s just a sunrise behind a building. You’re overworked and stressed. Of course, your brain is going to make the Senate feel more menacing than it actually is. Nothing is... Well, a lot is wrong with the Senate, but not to the degree your gut thinks. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed. Once you secure this job, you won’t think this. It’ll look like a beautiful opportunity.
You concentrate as you walk up the stairs. No one apparently thought to consult an engineer; the steps are clean and neat, but they’re not even. Little dips and bumps and divots are worn into the stone material. The idea of dropping the caf makes your stomach churn. Not just because you spent so much money on all of this, but because you’re doing this as a surprise.
Footsteps greet you. When you look up, Ghost stands in front of you. No one else is around; the only thing that might see him are the security cameras. He’s professed he doesn’t think whomever is watching all of this cares enough to pay attention to him. He’s not a commander or someone of importance; he’s just a clone. It always hurts your heart when he says it like that. He’s more than he thinks, but you don’t know how to tell him that.
“Thank the Maker.” Ghost carefully takes the caf tray from you. “It’s been a week.”
“It’s good to see you too, Ghost.” For a second, you swear you can hear a snort. “When do you not have a week?”
Ghost makes a disgruntled noise, but he doesn’t argue with you. He doesn’t seem too upset by your comment.
“Who’s on shift change today?”
“Why?”
“I need to know who isn’t going to be there so I can find them and give them their caf.” You nudge him lightly. “Duh.”
“They can take care of it themselves.” Even though his comment is flippant, you know he doesn’t mean it. Ghost turns and begins walking up the stairs. You fall into step beside him. “Commander Thorn is switching out for Commander Thire.” He turns his head slightly. “They told me they’d be in the mess waiting.” He doesn’t come right out and accuse you of anything, but something about it feels like he is.
“I bring caf for everyone. This is my day to bring caf.” You shrug. Now, you for sure can feel Ghost give you a look.
“I know that.” A slightly teasing edge slips into his tone. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”
You don’t know what to say to that. The two of you walk in silence for a bit before you bring up the latest piece of gossip. You hadn’t befriended the Coruscant Guard for gossip reasons, you had done so because it felt right. The gossip was an extra bonus. None of them could come right out and say who they thought was sleeping with whom, and what the hell happened that left massive amounts of damage in a senator’s office, but they could imply enough and confirm in their own ways when you asked.
Ghost sneaks you towards the mess through the back halls. The two of you had come a long way. When you first started bringing caf, Ghost would take it and disappear. Presumably they tested it for poison and the like. Enough trust was established you were allowed to bring it personally, but it was always in the hallways, close enough to the Guard’s section of the building so they could retreat if a nosey natborn came by, but not so close that you could easily follow them back to their office.
Now, Ghost was leading you towards their mess hall. A small, warm feeling begins to unfurl in your heart. You never thought you would have reached this level of trust with them, and it’s... it’s nice.
Ghost double and triple checks the coast is clear before letting you into the mess hall. You don’t begrudge him. This would be the worst time to get caught by some nosy person just looking to cause trouble. He ushers you inside quickly. At the end of the mess, you can see Thorn and Thire talking to each other. Thorn is the first to see you. He has his bucket on, so you can’t see his face, but he seems to visibly perk up when he does see you. His shoulders drop away from the edges of his bucket, and he straightens his spine out some. He nudges Thire with his elbow. Thire looks in the direction Thorn is looking.
“Here you go.” You set the box of donuts on the table and take the caf tray from Ghost. You hand one to Thorn and then the other to Thire.
“My hero.” Thire almost drawls the words, but an odd sort of sincerity lies beneath his tone. He carefully takes the warm cup from you.
“I could kiss you.” The grin in Thorn’s voice is evident. His fingers seem to linger on yours for a second as he grabs the caf.
“Why haven’t you then?” You challenge, arching an eyebrow at him.
“He doesn’t want to ruin a beautiful friendship.” Thire mutters as he lifts up his bucket enough to sip the caf, just loud enough for you to hear him. You grin. Thorn goes to elbow his brother, but Thire swats him away.
“Where’s Fox? I got him some as well.” You also bought him a bag of light roast beans. He seems to prefer dark roast, but the light roast has more caffeine content. He seems to need it; he always seems so tired and burdened by the world.
“Right here.” The Marshall Commander of the Guard’s voice nearly makes you jump. You hand him his caf, which he accepts with a small ‘thanks’ and tilt of his head.
“I also got you this.” You reach into your bag to produce the beans. “It’s supposed to be some of the strongest caf around. Consider it a thank you for the other week.”
He carefully takes the bag from you. Fox turns the bag over to read the back, and for a second, you think he might reject the gift. Maker, you wish you could see his face. It would make things easier. Fox is one of the hardest to read based on body language, so being able to see his face might help you. He takes a step towards you, then stops, as if he thought better of what he was about to do. He curls his right hand almost subconsciously.
“Thank you.” It takes him a moment to speak. He dips his head again before turning to Thorn. “Whenever you do get around to kissing her. Make sure it’s a good one.”
Fox’s comment nearly makes you choke. Something about the delivery, joking yet serious in a very dry way, and how unexpected it was takes you aback. Despite yourself, you smile. Thire snorts. It’s unfiltered through the modulator, and his voice is deeper than expected. Thorn’s bucket is trained on Fox. You wonder if his mouth is agape or if he’s trying not to laugh. When you turn to Fox to say something, he’s already gone. You can see him heading out towards the main halls. You turn back to the other two Commanders. Thorn stands up.
“I’ll walk you to your desk.” He offers. “Thire can get the last caf to Hound.” He takes the tray, gentle yet insistent, from you and hands it to Thire.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble on my account.”
“It’ll be fine.” He waves away your concerns. “Hound’s all the way in the kennels. You wouldn’t be able to get this to him and then get back to your desk on time. And somebody needs to walk out of here with you so it doesn’t look even more suspicious.”
You nod and carefully pick up the donut tray.
“Okay.” Maker knows you aren’t complaining. You’ve grown to like Thorn a lot over the past several months. He was the first to open up to you. The two of you had developed a good rapport. At least, you think the two of you did. As Thorn leads you out of the mess, Ghost waves. You smile softly and wave back.
Hopefully this is a sign today is going to be a good day.
The two of you walk in silence. Something about it makes you nervous. It’s not that Thorn isn’t talking; the two of you had gotten to the point where neither of you feels the need to fill conversational gaps with meaningless chatter. This silence is different, somehow. Thorn seems as if he’s almost weighed down by something.
“Did I tell you...” You begin. “Senator Dalle is supposed to tell us who officially gets a job with him! Hopefully I won’t be a lousy intern anymore.” You beam at Thorn. Your throat constricts, though. To say you put your heart and soul into this was an understatement. Getting the internship had been hard, and you wanted to make all that work worth it.
Thorn stops. He lets out a sigh.
“Yeah. About that...” He clears his throat. Your heart sinks.
“Thorn. What... What is it?”
Thorn looks around for a second. Upon seeing no one, he gently takes a hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alcove. Your heart beats frantically against your ribcage. No way could this be good.
“Look.” Thorn pauses. His hands come up to his bucket as if he wants to run his hands over his face but stops himself. “You didn’t hear this from me, okay?”
“Okay.” You curl your toes. Despite your best efforts, you can feel panic surging through you, trying to overtake your body. Your body wants to shake, but you hold firm.
“I think Leena is going to get it.”
You arch an eyebrow at him. Leena...? Why her? Sure, she is your closest competition with this job, but it wouldn’t make sense. She isn’t as good as you. Right?
“How... How can you be sure?” Your voice threatens to break for a second. Thorn lets out a deep exhale.
“She’s been leaving Senator Dalle’s office as really odd hours of the night. Thire told me. I didn’t believe him until I saw it. And have you noticed how unusually chipper Dalle is?” Thorn pauses. You let the weight and implications of his words settle over you. It causes an unpleasant feeling in your throat. You have to swallow to prevent it from constricting too much.
“Do you... do you think she’s sleeping with him? To get the job?”
“I don’t know. I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong. Just... I don’t want you to be blindsided.”
You nod. “I... Thank you for the heads up.” You take a deep breath and look up, blinking to try and keep tears from falling. It’s speculation. That’s all it is. Nothing more, nothing less. The knowledge stings, but it could be wrong.
“Are you okay?” Thorn’s tone is oddly soft for him. You shake your head.
“Yeah. Sorry. I. I just don’t want to ruin my eyeliner.” You clear your throat. Thorn lets out a laugh that’s closer to a giggle than a true laugh.
“Really?” A teasing edge enters his tone. You drop your chin and give him a look. He brings both of his hands up in mock surrender.
“I spent too long on this to ruin it.” You huff. Quietly, part of you is relieved Thorn is joking with you. It makes the hurt dissipate a little. Thorn’s bucket tilts.
“It looks good.” He offers. His tone is warm and genuine. If you heard it under any other circumstances, it would make your heart flutter. It makes you smile.
“Thank you.”
Whether he knew it or not, Thorn’s comment and soft words made the need to cry less urgent. You can hold it in until you know more. Thorn’s visor stays trained on your face.
“Ready?”
“Yeah. Ready.”
The two of you head back into the main hall. You aren’t sure if he likes escorting you or if he feels like he has to because you bring him caf. Hopefully, it’s the former. The idea Thorn might want to spend extra time with you causes butterflies to form in your stomach. He stops a couple halls down from your office. The two of you stand there for a second.
“Good luck.” Thorn offers.
“Thank you.” You smile at him. “Stay safe today.” It’s a simple sentence, but it holds so much more behind it. Thorn never gives any indication he knows there’s more to it. Hopefully, he doesn’t. It’s easier that way.
“I always do.” The grin in his voice is evident. Thorn slips out of the side hallway, leaving you to stand alone for a minute.
Carefully, you make your way to the desk. The office is abuzz, everyone eagerly awaiting to hear who might have gotten the job. Much to your surprise, Leena seems to be just as nervous as you. She aimlessly twirls the pen in her hand and on several occasions looks as if she wants to bite it. Not that you’re much better. It’s impossible for you to concentrate on work right now.
The anxiety only worsens when Dalle begins calling the interns back one by one. It feels like you’re on some sort of sick and twisted game show. Everyone who leaves the office looks heartbroken. You screw your eyes shut. You can feel your hands start to shake. Fuck.
Eventually, it’s just you and Leena who haven’t been called. Everyone who is at their desk keeps on looking between the two of you. Clearly, people want to whisper but are too afraid to do so. You try to focus on your work.
Senator Dalle calls your name.
Carefully, you stand up. A silent ripple seems to spread out among everyone. You know without a shadow of a doubt you didn’t get the job. Why else would he call you before Leena? Everyone else he’s called into his office he’s clearly rejected. You take a deep breath to try and steady your nerves. It’s hard to ignore. A knot has formed in your stomach. It stretches from the bottom of your ribs to the top of your throat.
You get inside his office.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes. Would you shut the door behind you?”
You nod and carefully close the door.
“Go ahead and sit.” Dalle leans forward and interlaces his fingers. Every step you take towards the seat is measured and careful. You sit. Senator Dalle lets out a sigh after a second before leaning back.
“You’re a good kid. You really are. I can see your work ethic, and I admire it. But I’m afraid I can’t give you the position.”
At that point, you let yourself zone out.
You know what he’s going to say. It practically writes itself. Every lie and excuse pulled from the supervisor handbook. He explains how he really did want to give you the position, but he only has the budget to take one person on right now. The person in question is obviously Leena; you don’t ask who it is. He tells you he knows how hard you’ve worked and how he wants you to succeed. He looks forward to following your career. Who knows? Maybe next year he can take you on! Don’t let this minor setback hurt you.
You don’t know what hurts more. The fact he gave the position to the intern he’s presumably sleeping with or the fact, after months of working for him, he doesn’t seem to understand you at all. He keeps talking about you going into politics. Why would you go into politics now?
You do what’s expected of you. You lie through your teeth.
Of course you understand, you really do. It was an honor to work with him, and thank you so much for the opportunity. You probably tell more lies than the Chancellor as you sit in Dalle’s office. No, you understand completely, of course you weren’t mad or upset. It almost feels like he called you in there to reassure him, to tell him he chose best. It makes your stomach hurt. You aren’t sure if you want to cry or throw up or both.
Maker. What are you going to tell your parents? Are you... should you go back home? You don’t want to stay here, stay in this fucking city built on lies and deception, but you also don’t want to go home. To be honest, you might have to go back. Finding a job is going to be more than a little difficult; the unemployment rate in Coruscant is incredibly high. As it is, you’re living month to month off the measly stipend you are getting. Sure, you could continue to work for Dalle if you really had to, but you don’t want to. What would be the point, especially now you know how corrupt and crooked the man is?
Twenty billion questions race through your mind. Each time Dalle speaks, even more come to mind. Fuck. What are you going to do?
Once the meeting is over, you make your way back out to your desk. You can feel looks of pity from the others. Nevertheless, you hold your head high. It’s better this way. It has to be better this way.
“Leena?” Dalle calls from his office. The entire office exchanges knowing glances. You look down at your paperwork.
Much to your surprise, you make it to lunch before you break down. It’s hard. Every time you blink, it feels like tears are going to fall. Your head swims with a crying headache, even though you haven’t shed a single tear. Your concentration is absolutely shot.
As soon as you’re cleared for your lunch break, you make your way into the bathroom. You cry. It’s the last thing you want to do because this internship, this place, does not deserve your tears. You cry anyway. You don’t let yourself sob like you want to because if you did, you wouldn’t get back out in time. So you cry for several minutes. Just enough to take off the edge.
Eating lunch outside seems like a good idea today. You’re about to leave the building when someone says your name. The voice is familiar; it’s Ghost. He doesn’t use his normally friendly tone but instead his neutral, slightly commanding, tone. For a second, you’re worried you’re in trouble. Having one of the Guard come get you, no matter how friendly you are with them, is more than a little scary. Automatically, you begin to wonder what you might have done wrong.
“Commander Thorn wants to see you.”
“Okay.” Dutifully, you go to Ghost’s side. You’re not as scared as you were, but you’re a little relieved. This might not be as bad as it seems. Ghost escorts you through the halls. It takes you a moment to realize Ghost is actually taking you to Thorn’s office. The more drab hallways tell you as much. When you reach the door to Thorn’s office, Ghost knocks.
“Come in.”
Ghost opens the door.
“You’ll be fine.” It’s the first words of reassurance he’s spoken today. You nod. Yeah, you should be. Carefully, you step inside Thorn’s office. Thorn looks up from his datapad. As soon as he sees it’s you, he places it to the side.
“You wanted to see me?” You lamely ask.
“How’d it go?” It’s clear from his tone he does not expect it went well, but he still wants to ask. You shake your head.
“You were right. I... I didn’t get it.”
“Osik.” It’s easy to guess the word is a curse of some kind, just from the way he says it. You slide into the only other open seat in his office. It’s barely big enough for his tiny desk and an extra chair. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn it used to be an old supply closet.
“Why’d you want to see me?”
“Well. I figured you weren’t up to seeing people so. Thought if you wanted to eat your lunch and hide in here, I’d offer.” His tone is nonchalant. You can’t help your smile. This isn’t what you were expecting in the slightest, and you’re more than okay with it.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” You want to ask if he’s sure it’s okay you’re hiding out here, but you think better of it. He’s a Commander. He knows what he’s doing. At least, you hope he does. You have faith he does. Carefully, you curl your legs under yourself. Your lunch is a bag lunch so no need to worry about getting to the cafeteria or grabbing take-out in time.
“Are you going to go back home?” Thorn seems hesitant to ask. Maybe he’s afraid of what you’ll say.
“I... I don’t know.” You let out a long sigh. “I mean. I make enough to stay here, barely, but... I’m not sure I want to right now.” You huff. “Maybe I’m just being bitter.”
Thorn shakes his head. “I don’t think you are. I wouldn’t blame you if you left. I’d miss you. I wouldn’t blame you, though.”
You nod. You aren’t sure what else you want to say. Thankfully, Thorn seems to sense the awkwardness.
“Seriously.” Thorn leans a little across the desk. “I can’t speak to the others, but. I’d miss you. I miss you a lot.”
“You’d just miss the free caf.”
“That too.”
His admission makes you laugh.
“Do you want to hear about the time Thire and I scared a shitty senator? Grizzer helped us with it.”
“Of course I do.”
It’s nice to talk with Thorn. As you sit and listen to him tell a story clearly more fiction than truth, you realize something.
Quitting this job would mean leaving the Coruscant Guard behind. No feasible way exists for you to stay in contact with them. They, and these moments you share with them, are the only reason you wouldn’t quit. Nothing else matters. Hell, you should leave the job. The environment is toxic at best and abusive at worst. Why would you stay?
You’d stay for Thorn. You’d stay for Fox. For Hound, for Thire, for Stone. For each and every single member of the Guard. Not because they need you but because they’re your friends. At least, you think it qualifies as friendship. You certainly see them as friends.
Unfortunately, your lunch break is short. Time seems to pass so quickly, and it’s not long before you are on your way back to your desk. A multitude of thoughts are swarming through your head. Pulling out each one seems impossible. Yet you need to because you need a place, any place, to start. Your head pulses as you try to figure everything out.
“Hey.” Jethro, one of the few friends you have from this program, stands by your desk. “Ayssa and I are thinking about going out for drinks tonight. You in?”
“Yeah. That sounds good.” It does. Even if you don’t end up drinking, getting out of your head and spending time with people will help you. Who knows? If you bring your problem to them, they might be able to help. They could have a fresh insight to your problem.
“I mean, I’d quit.” Ayssa shrugs. “If you weren’t good enough this round, chances are you’ll never be good enough for him.”
You slowly exhale. She’s right.
“Easy for you to say. Daddy’s money lines your pockets.” Jethro nudges Ayssa. “It’s not so simple for us common folk.”
“I don’t know.” You sigh as you pick at your food. “I don’t want to leave because I’ve got friends. But also. I feel like I’m going to suffocate if I spend another minute in that place.”
Ayssa tilts her head. A glimmer creeps into her eyes.
“Maybe you don’t have to leave”
“Oh?”
“Look. I know someone who knows someone. There’s some… program, I guess? It’s for the clones.” Ayssa pauses to take a sip of her drink. “The government doesn’t like clones hooking up with civilians because it means higher chance of secrets getting out and all that. You can’t just deny them sex, though. So there’s this program where you get hired, and you’re essentially assigned some clones who you, you know...” She trails off with a meaningful look.
You aren’t sure what to say.
“So like. What? It’s a government sanctioned escort program?” Jethro laughs.
“Yeah. I heard you make mad money off it.”
“What’s the program’s name?” You eventually ask.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re seriously considering this!” Jethro looks at you as if you’ve grown a second and third head. You wave him away.
You shrug. “I’m just keeping my options open.”
Truth be told, you don’t think it’d be a bad job. It would beat working at a cafe or restaurant, and you’d be able to see the Guard more than you could now. Vaguely, you wonder. How much would you get paid? If it means you’re not living month to month, then you’re certainly interested.
The idea sticks with you the next several days. It doesn’t occupy your mind the entire time, but when you’re stuck doing something particularly onerous or thinking about how much you hate this job, the conversation comes back to you. Ayssa had given you the name of the program. You ended up looking it up that night before you went to bed. It didn’t seem unreasonable. You’d have to go through a background check and some other bureaucratic bullshit. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before; hell, you had to do more than this just to even think about the internship. You might even be able to fast-track everything.
One thing bothers you. You don’t know who you’ll get assigned to. From your understanding, the placement would be random, but you don’t want random. It’s silly, you know. You could do it. You’d just prefer to work with the Coruscant Guard. You know them so it’d make things less awkward.
Ironically, Leena provides the solution to your problem.
As you stare at a sheet of flimsi, reading about something or other you honestly can’t bring yourself to care about because it’ll screw people over one way or another, you can hear Leena talking. She’s passing by your desk with her comm open. It’s not much you hear, but it’s enough to give you an idea.
“No, yeah. I absolutely understand. I just... Yes, of course. My issue is we can’t get to the bottom of this if we don’t know the source. Yes. I’m saying Senator Dalle wants to talk to this guy. If he’s the source, why can’t he? No. Oh, of course I understand. The senator just deserves to be able to talk to this person face to face, you know?”
She doesn’t stop at your desk, doesn’t even spare a glance your way. You’re more than okay with her walking right by.
...Huh. The source. Absentmindedly, you scratch the back of your neck. She’s not wrong. Why jump through hoops when you can go directly to the source?
The next time you see Ghost, you’re bringing caf in. Ghost comes down the last two or three steps to meet you.
“Ghost?”
He trains his visor on you. “Yes?” His tone is suspiciously wary, as if he knows you’re about to ask something of him he might consider to be a waste of his time.
“Could you...” You wrinkle your nose before sighing. “I want to talk to Thorn about something. By myself. How would I make that happen?”
Ghost regards you for a moment.
“Most people have to go through the proper channels. But for you? I think he’d be willing to make an exception.”
“Thank you!” You practically beam at Ghost. “Do, ah, do you think I could talk to him after my shift?”
“He probably can? If not, tomorrow morning.”
The rest of the day you wait. Keeping still seems impossible. You want to fidget the entire time. None of your work seems interesting. Then again, it hasn’t held your interest for a week now. Time crawls. You hate waiting. The longer you wait, the more you second guess yourself. A pit forms in your stomach. All the ways this could go wrong flit through your mind.
Everything drags.
Eventually, work ends. As you walk into the hallway, Ghost comes around the corner. It’s clear this is once again business. His gait alone tells you; it’s very much a march instead of how he normally walks.
“Commander Thorn wants to speak with you.”
“Of course.”
The walk to Thorn’s office is silent. You aren’t sure what to say. Since this is meant to be official, you’re pretty sure Ghost can do small talk.
Thorn practically drags you into his office the minute you get to it.
“Are you alright?” He asks. A genuine note of panic creeps into his voice. You smile.
“I’m fine. I just had something personally I wanted to ask of you.”
Thorn lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“You scared the shit out of me!” He slaps a hand over his chest piece. The sound from the plastoid is loud. “What’s up?”
You reach into your bag. After a moment’s hesitation, you fish out the brochure and hand it to him. He takes it from you.
“I...” You swallow. You spent hours practicing what you were going to say, but now the moment is here, you can’t say it. “I want to do this. I want to work with just you, though. The Guard, I mean. You all. I mean, if you want me.”
Thorn studies the brochure silently. He turns it over in his hands. You realize you’re holding your breath.
“Are you sure?” He looks up at you. Even through the visor of his bucket, you feel his eyes studying you. Something tells you he’s got warm, brown eyes. His tone indicates he’s not questioning you because he thinks you’re making a mistake. No, he’s double checking with you, making sure you want this.
“I’m sure.”
Of course you are sure! You wouldn’t have brought this to him if you weren’t double and triple sure. You nod. Thorn stays silent for a moment. He places the brochure down on the desk. Is he... Is he going to say no? Is he going to reject you? The thought had vaguely crossed your mind, but his actions make you worry.
His hands go to the edges of his bucket. You hear clasps unsnap before he carefully takes it off and sets it on his desk.
“Hi.” Thorn grins at you. His brown eyes light up as he does so. His hair is long and pulled back into a thick bun. Several stray strands, some more sections of hair than one or two strands, hang in front of his face. He has dimples. Well, one dimple. A raised scar covers his right cheek. It looks to be from one incident where he got multiple injuries. A long line runs from just above the right corner of his mouth and curves out and down towards his jaw. Several short lines branch out from the main one.
Your fingers twitch. You want nothing more than to run your fingers over his scar and ask him how he got it. You want to place your hand against his cheek and watch his eyes close. The intensity of these feelings nearly sweeps you away entirely.
“Hi.” You smile back. Thorn’s smile is absolutely the infectious kind. Thorn sits back on his desk, balancing on the edge of it. “So. Is this a yes...?”
“I’ll have to talk to Fox, but I don’t see why he’d say no.” Thorn hums. “He’s going to want to make sure you’re really okay with this.”
“I should hope I’m okay with this, I’m the one who brought the idea to you.” You tease.
“I know you are, but others don’t.” Thorn’s eyes have barely left you since he took off his bucket. A warm feeling starts to build, making you curl your toes slightly.
“So I’m going to have to jump through red tape and what? Tell them it was my idea? Make sure they know I came up with this all on my own?”
Thorn tilts his head to the side as if considering something and then nods. “Yeah. Probably.”
“Okay.” You step towards him. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Fuck if I know. Could take hours, could take days. It’s not our end that will be the problem.” His honesty makes you laugh. His expression brightens at the sound.
“Tell you what?” You reach him. Carefully, you place your hand on the desk beside him. “You talk to Fox, I’ll fill out any paperwork or whatever I have to do. Then once it goes through, I’ll quit this stupid intenrship, and we can have a glass of wine at my place. How does that sound?”
Thorn leans in a little. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”
“Is it working?”
“Only because I’m easy.”
It takes you a minute, but when you get what he’s saying, you let out an indignant noise and pout. Thorn doesn’t laugh. He clearly wants to do so, though. His face scrunches up with a barely suppressed smile, and his shoulders shake for a second. He takes a deep breath and sobers himself.
“I would go ahead and put in the application. Fox will talk to whoever as soon as he can.”
“I’ll be good and wait until I actually get confirmation to quit my job.”
“Probably a good idea.”
You don’t move away just yet. Instead, you let yourself linger for a second. Thorn looks at you from underneath his eyelashes.
“You should probably go. People might get suspicious.” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t want you to go yet. You want to tell him fuck that. Fuck what people think. Deep down, you know he’s right. While it might not matter to you right now, it does have an impact on what happens to him. After a second, you sigh and then nod.
“Yeah. I guess I should.” You turn towards the door. Thorn softly says your name, and you turn back to fce him.
“I like sweet wine.” He tells you with a grin. He waits until you smile back at him before he puts his bucket back on and goes back to work.
Waiting for Thorn made you want to crawl out of your skin. Waiting for Fox is worse. You barely sleep. It feels like you should be a shoe-in, and yet, you worry. Your anxiety wants to latch on to any and all of your perceived imperfections. You almost growl into your pillow. All you want is to sleep, but your brain won’t let you.
Today you reread the same thing over and over and over again because you simply can’t retain it. Nothing wants to stick inside your brain today. Your lack of sleep shows when you stumble into work the next day. Jethro looks at you with pity.
“Hey.” He makes his way over to your desk. Much to your surprise, he holds out a cup of caf for you. You take it from him with a small ‘thanks’. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m okay.” Jethro makes a noise indicating he thinks you’re banthashitting him. “I’ll be okay. I just didn’t sleep well.”
Jethro stares at you for a second, concern written all over his face.
“Look. You know if you need to talk...” He stops himself. “Tell you what. Lunch is on me today, my treat.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” Jethro’s tone is final. Arguing with him would just make him double down even more.
“Alright. That sounds good to me.”
After several seconds, you stand up. Your head hurts. The words on the page don’t make sense anymore. You need air. Carefully, you navigate your way out of the office and into the main hall. As you go, you feel Jethro’s eyes on you. Hopefully he won’t follow you. Water seems like a good idea. You thread your way through the maze of hallways towards the closest water cooler.
Someone calls your name. You look up from your water bottle and blink. A trooper you don’t know stands in the hallway.
“Commander Fox wants to see you.”
Oh?
Oh!
Well, maybe. You aren’t sure if it’s a good thing or not yet. Although, you’re not sure you care all that much right now. You have an answer and can work from here. The trooper, Lynx you learn, leads you back towards Fox’s office. To your tired mind, it feels as if he’s leading you towards Thorn’s office initially. The different paintings clue your brain back in as to where you’re going.
The hallway to Fox’s office is nicer yet somehow more depressing than the one leading to Thorn’s office. It’s not as overtly depressing. The walls are more similar in color to the main thoroughfares. Somehow, it feels more soulless. Art on the wall switched from paintings to generic motivational posters, ones that are closer to “hang in there” than actual professional photos. They’re still technically professional, but they don’t feel that way.
Corners knocks on Fox’s door.
“Come in.”
Lynx actually follows you into the office. Fox looks up from his paperwork.
“You can leave us.”
“Of course, sir.” Lynx nods before quietly backing out of the office. You stand awkwardly for a second. Fox points you towards a seat. His office is slightly bigger than Thorn’s. He has enough space for a bigger desk and more chairs. Hesitantly, you lower yourself into a chair.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” Fox looks at you. The intensity of his gaze filters through the visor. He sighs and leans back. “You’re not in trouble. Thorn told me about your conversation last night.” He slides a brochure across the desk.
“Yes. I told Thorn I wanted to do this, and I wanted to work with you all in particular.” You nod. You resist the urge to cross your legs. Fox nods.
“And it was your idea?” His voice is carefully neutral.
“Yes. It was 100% my idea.” You relax a little. Thorn did warn you this would happen, so you’re not as nervous anymore. “Thorn didn’t even know until I talked to him last night.”
“Okay.” For a second, you swear a tinge of relief creeps into Fox’s voice. The note is gone quickly, so you can’t be entirely sure. “I needed to double check.”
“I figured.” Things feel stilted. You resist the urge to fidget. It feels as if you might not get the job. Fox regards you for a second.
“I talked to Nikali, who runs the program.” Fox places one of his hands on the table. His fingers twitch for a second. “They will have to run a background check and everything again. It’s standard. You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Positive. It was my idea. I want to do this.” You get why he’s double checking, but at the same time, the overabundance of caution is a little grating. It feels as if they expect you to second guess your decision. Certainly, it feels as if the company itself might worry it wasn’t your decision to make.
“I heard about what happened with Dalle. I’m sorry.” Fox does tap his fingers quickly on the edge of his desk, a fluid one-two motion you almost miss. He looks up at you. His eyes meet yours. You don’t know how you can tell, but you know he’s looking you right in the eye. “It is probably for the best. Dalle can be mercurial.”
You nearly snort.
“I’m aware he can be a baby when things don’t go his way.”
Fox nods. “It’s for the best. You would have gotten hurt.”
The thought sticks inside your gut for a second. You hadn’t really thought about that part of it, but he’s right. Dalle slept with an intern. Who knows what the man might be capable of doing?
Fox’s voice brings you back. “When I talked to Nikali, he agreed you could work just with us. You’ll have to iron out the specifics with him.”
“Sounds like you think I’m a shoe-in.”
“I’m not an idiot.” He nearly drawls. “It’d be stupid to say no to you.”
The implication makes a pleasant heat curl through your veins. Your heart sutters for a second.
“Because of my tenacity?”
You can’t see his eye roll, but you hear it.
“That’s it exactly.” You like this side of Fox, this dry and sarcastic side. It took a while to get to see it; he hid behind bland customer service tones meant for senators for a long time. Seeing this side of him feels like a treat.
“Don’t quit until you get the official acceptance.” Fox shifts in his seat so he’s sitting up more. You understand what he’s trying to get at. This place is filled with petty people. If you quit before you have something assured, someone somewhere might try to ruin it for you.
“I won’t.”
Fox nods, once. You take it to mean you’re dismissed.
As you make your way back towards your office, you think about the interaction. One thing sticks out to you. While this was mainly business, you can’t shake the feeling it was also personal. Fox clearly was checking in on you to make sure you were okay with everything. He’s protective of you.
All of them were protective of you in their own ways. Thorn warning you Leena might get the job was his way of protecting you. Thire had warned you on several occasions when a senator was looking for someone, anyone, to take their rage out on. Hound always made sure to walk you wherever you were going when you saw him. Stone had given you more than one tip on how to deal with some particularly obnoxious senators. Pinpointing how Fox kept you safe was more difficult, but you never doubted for a second he didn’t do something to protect or help you.
You reach your desk without incident. The datapad is just as dull and uninteresting as before. Fuck it. You aren’t going to stay at this job much longer. You pull out your comm. Thorn gave you his private line the last time you saw him.
“You like sweet wine, right? Is starcherry good?”
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A Really Really Old Interview with Milo From The Earliest Days of Gilmore Girls, TeenMag.Com
Name: Milo Anthony Ventimiglia
D.O.B.: July 8, 1977
Hometown: Milo was born in Anaheim, California, but he grew up in nearby Orange, CA.
How You Know Him: Most people recognize Milo from his role as Jed Perry on the short-lived but much-loved Fox TV show Opposite Sex. He's also appeared as a guest star on show's like C.S.I. and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Now, Milo has joined the cast of the terrific WB show Gilmore Girls as Luke's trouble-making nephew, Jess.
Taking the Plunge: Milo always wanted to be an actor, even when he was a little kid. "When I was eight, I was telling my parents, 'Hey, in twenty years, I'm gonna win an academy award,'" says Milo. "Then I really didn't dive into it until I was 18." When he was in high school, Milo was in plays, but he was too focused on playing sports?football, baseball and basketball?to think about getting into acting professionally. "Then, finally, when the opportunity came up as I got older, I was like, 'Wow, this is really something that I enjoy doing, and I think I could see a future career in it,'" explains Milo. "Plus, I'm not the best salesman, and I can't play guitar." What else was there for him to do?
First Paying Gig: The first professional paying job that Milo ever had was a small role on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. "I had one line," says Milo. "I walked down the stairs at some party Ashley was having because her parents were out of town. I have a girl on my arm, and I say, 'Relax Ash, we're just taking a little tour' and I laugh. It's a great glorious moment," he adds sarcastically.
Big Break: Besides that captivating bit part on Fresh Prince, Milo did a few commercials and appeared as a guest star on a few other TV shows. The public really started to take notice of Milo when he landed the role of Jed on Opposite Sex. This short-lived series earned Milo countless fans and some even made fan pages for him.
Becoming a Gilmore Guy: These days, Milo plays Jess, the new boy in Stars Hollow on Gilmore Girls. So far, we don't know that much about him. "He's kind of a mislead youth," says Milo. "He drinks. He smokes. He says rude things. He's kind of impolite. But, uh, he just doesn't want to be there." Jess is sent to live in Stars Hollow with his uncle, Luke, when he gets into trouble, and his mom just doesn't know what to do with him. Jess isn't just a typical bad boy though. "He's also really intelligent," says Milo. "So I think there's hope that he's going to turn out to be a good guy, or at least kind of he'll settle into his own in the town. He's always got a book in his back pocket." And guess who else is always carrying a book around: Rory.
Mystery Guy: Even Milo doesn't know that much about his Gilmore Girls character, Jess. The writers haven't told him where Jess was living before he came to Stars Hollow or even what his last name is. "I guess he's one of those Madonna characters," jokes Milo. We're guessing that both Milo and us Gilmore fans will be getting to know Jess a lot better in the coming months.
Good to be a Bad Boy: Milo admits that he's really having fun playing the bad boy role this time around. "I really enjoy it," he says. "I think, a lot of times, I kind of get stuck with the nice guy. The nice, indecisive guy who doesn't know how to make up his mind about anything. So, it's nice to just be the carefree, reckless youth." Plus, you get to do all those bad things without getting into any trouble. What a deal.
Sticking Around: There's been a lot of speculation about how long Jess will be a character on Gilmore Girls, so Milo wants to set the record straight. "I've got a two-year contract." says Milo. "I'm on for two years. It's kind of weird* My mom is so funny. Gilmore Girls is her favorite show, and so she goes on the web sites and spoiler boards and everything. In some places it says, 'Oh he's only a guest recurring,' and in other places it says that I'm only in two episodes," says Milo. "But no, I've got a two-year contract." So, go ahead and get attached to him girls. He's gonna be around a while.
Making Trouble: Of course, the news that Jess will be on Gilmore Girls for two years may upset some of the hardcore Rory and Dean fans out there. The rumors are flying that Jess is going to come in and break up that adorable couple. Milo isn't really saying what's going to happen. "Yeah, I definitely raise hell," he admits. "In episode number eight, which we just finished, I meet Dean for the first time. It was interesting. It was very quick but it was cool." Jess has already caused one fight between Lorelai and Luke, and it looks like he's just going to keep shaking things up in the sleepy town of Stars Hollow.
Movie Editing: If you look up Milo's movie credits, it looks like he's been in quite a few flicks, but it turns out, the poor guy has been edited out of most of them. For instance, in She's All That most of Milo's scenes got chopped. "It makes me laugh. My part was so miniscule," says Milo. "You see me walk in a door, and, right before I'm about to talk, they cut. So there's that. And then there's a whole following scene with myself and Kirin Culkin [that got cut], and then there's another scene in the movie that was totally cut. So, I kind of laugh when people are like, 'Oh, Milo Ventimiglia, She's All That,' and then they name something else, and I'm like, 'I wasn't really in those movies.'" There are a few movies that Milo managed to stay in, including one called Sheer Bliss, which hasn't been released yet. "I couldn't get cut out of that," says Milo. "I was the lead role." Sheer Bliss is about four guys who graduate from college and decide to try to figure out what the heck the want to do with their live. Check out the official website at www.sheerbliss.com.
Car Guy: Something else Milo is really into, besides acting, is cars. "I'm kind of a motorhead," he admits. "I'm a Chevy guy. I've got two Chevys." In fact, Milo was excited to learn that the teenmag.com shares a building with big name car magazines like Hot Rod and, even better for him, Super Chevy. He even wanted to stop by so we could take him to the car magazine floors and show him around. Milo said he'd call to set up a time to drop by. We're still waiting* (sigh.)
What's That In His Pocket?: Just like his Gilmore Girls character, Milo has always got a book with him. During down time on set, he's usually just sitting back reading a book. Currently, he's reading the Richard Bachman (aka Steven King) book The Long Walk.
Manly Movies: Milo's movie collection has got a lot of classic guy flicks in it. He's got The Godfather DVD collection, Goodfellas, Blow and The Matrix. But Milo's also into some old classics like movies starring James Dean and Marlon Brando. "I kind of dig all that old stuff," says Milo. Milo says that he really likes movies with good character development. He prefers movies "where it's not superficial. You have to kind of see what's going on in the mind of the character, to see their thought process without them giving it away or handing it to you on a plate." So he's a thinking guy. How cool!
Milo's Music: Like most people, Milo has a pretty eclectic music taste. "I listen to a lot of hip hop, and right now I'm stoked on a band called The Strokes," says Milo. "I was up at like five in the morning last week, just doing a bunch of stuff, and then I ended up just crashing on my couch and turning on the TV. I was falling asleep, and I heard the song and saw the band, and I was like, 'Who the hell are these guys?' I went and bought the CD, and I just haven't taken it out of my player yet. Then also like a lot of Deftones, and a lot of Orange County punk that I grew up with."
That's all for Milo. Don't forget to check him out on Gilmore Girls every Tuesday night at 8pm EST/PST on the WB.
#milo ventimiglia#jess mariano#gilmore girls#this is wild reading an article so old that Jess doesn't even have a last name#playing the world's smallest violin for the “Hardcore Dean and Rory fans” who got to have that jackass for 5 years#and we only had our Jackass for two
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Well preparing for the move is in full swing! Full details below, and thank you all for being so supportive.
I have technically three ish weeks to get everything ready to go, but I want to be done before the week of Thanksgiving so I can spend that week doing nothing except being with my family, so it's more like two weeks.
I've been steadily going down my to do list - stuff for my dog is all taken care of (treats, toys, food and water bowls, etc all for the trip itself), my medications are all called in for 90 days so that I have a few months to figure out insurance and get doctors (parents said they would mail the meds to me if they don't get filled in time), I ordered my contacts for the next six months so that I'm stocked up on those, hotels are reserved for along the way, and so on.
I have a tentative plan for when I get there, but it's still scary as fuck.
My parents are being supportive even though neither of them like that I'm moving so far away. (For reference, I'm in Colorado and I'm moving to Maryland, which I love the east coast and am very excited.) Thanks to my dad helping me out, I was able to get a loan from the bank to pay for my move and living expenses until I get a full time job. Both of them are sad, as is my little sister who is heartbroken I'm leaving, but they all know I have to do what's right for me.
The half baked plan is to take four days to drive cross country with as much of my stuff that will fit in my car as well as my dog, driving about 6 hours or so a day since it's just me. I have my cities picked out to stop in, and I think it's going to be a pretty uneventful drive. I love road trips, so it's great getting to take one on my own tbh.
Then when I get to Maryland, I'll be rooming with my best friend. Once she left her fiance and I got divorced, it was the plan to be roommates, so she got a decent two bedroom apartment last month that she can afford on her own. My contribution when I get there will be to pay for groceries until I work full time and can afford to help with rent too. I figure groceries is the least I can do, and she keeps telling me that I don't have to do anything if I don't want to, which is incredibly generous but I refuse to just be a bum and do nothing.
Once I'm settled, I'll be hitting the ground running looking for work. The job I really wanted I got overlooked for because I'm out of state, so being in state will help for other jobs. So far I'm looking into online tutoring (I have an education degree and I currently work for Sylvan Learning Centers - I've done administrative director stuff as well as tutoring and they have a lot of opportunities) as well as transcription jobs for like court reporting. Both together should tide me over until I find a full time job somewhere, I think.
This whole thing is exciting and also terrifying as fuck. I have never done anything even remotely close to this before, and going out without a job lined up scares me shitless. But as I had it pointed out to me, nothing gets done staying in one place forever, and if I want to make this change, I need to just do it.
Does anyone who follows me live on the east coast of the US? If you do and would ever be interested, I would love to get coffee once I'm settled. I am really looking forward to making friends for once outside of the two or three that I currently have.
Thanks again for everything guys, all of you mean a lot to me.
~Birdie
#birdie speaks#moving#moving across country#from colorado#to maryland#so much chaos going on#I have no clue what I'm doing at this point
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Hi, I’m sorry if this isn’t any help, but do you know why you’re avoiding the real world so much? Berating yourself won’t help. If you wanna solve a problem u gotta find the root cause and take steps from that cause.
Well if I had to take a guess
Real world issues, or at least the ones I consider significant, always stress me out greatly, and I feel like I have an avoidant take when it comes to things that stress me out; namely, that I try to avoid them until they go away. Unfortunately, that’s a lot of things when it comes to the real world. Doesn’t help I’m a raging procrastinator
Unfortunately this can happen the other way around and I can miss opportunities because I simply choose not to act on something. And I recognize that waiting around probably makes situations worse, but for me, that’s just how I do thing, and I think the problem will just solve itself, so I should just ignore it
And not to mention, I basically know nothing about the real world, and how I’m supposed to interact with it. I’m 20, but I don’t feel like an adult, I think that’s still to come later after I’m done with school; I still have the mind of a teenager, if not younger. I don’t even have much of a concept of money. Talk about anything in the 1000s or higher and you’ve lost me on the specifics of how expensive that is, other than it’s expensive; $10,000 and $100,000 mean the same thing to me, other than $100,000 being ten times more. I don’t understand taxes or salaries or mortgages. I don’t understand what’s a good salary or not, so long as it’s money. I don’t understand how you’re supposed to interact with other people. I don’t even know what size pants I wear, because I don’t buy my clothes, my parents do. They take care of pretty much everything, and thus I don’t know much of anything, that’s adult stuff
And I’m well aware that I don’t know anything, and I know that you shouldn’t try and deal with areas you’re unfamiliar with, so I don’t bother with all of that, especially not without consulting my parents. I wouldn’t even make appointments for things about school without asking them when’s best or telling them that I’m doing so
I don’t want to be so reliant on them, but the reality is that I am, and that’s not gonna change anytime soon, especially not if I end up taking online schooling and I have to live with them full time again. I like my freedom to go outside for a random walk whenever, and to eat what I want and buy what I want, even if 90% of those expenditures is just food
I’m well aware that I’m incredibly sheltered. One time in college I had someone genuinely think that I was homeschooled, when in reality I’ve been publicly schooled all my life, and I went to pre-school for years before that. But I have so little an understanding of the world and the people in it that I don’t blame her for thinking that
Not to mention, I just don’t understand real consequences. They aren’t a thing in my mind. My family’s never really had to struggle, at least not to a point I’m aware, and I’ve never been punished that bad. I think my worst ever punishment is getting yelled at, and have my video games taken away until a certain point or until I do the thing I got yelled at for not doing. And so in my mind’s eye, that’s the worst that can happen, that I get reprimanded for my own actions/inaction and life continues. I mean, part of that is because I’ve never done something that bad, but still. I don’t have a concept of the consequences of failing college or not getting a degree. My parents do, since neither of them went to college, hence why they want me to, but I don’t. I don’t understand what it’s like to be poor or homeless, or how bad a minimum wage job is or not being able to pay bills. I’ve never experienced them or anything remotely similar, so I just don’t understand that these concepts exist. It’s like a video game to me, the stakes aren’t really there. And that’s not to say I want those things to happen to me, far from it, but in my head they’re more like fictional concepts. So I don’t see much point to them. I know they’re important, but only because someone tells me they are
The real world leaves me scared and stressed, and I don’t know the first thing about it. I don’t know what’s reliable information about it and what isn’t, because people will lie or just not know. And because I don’t want to make a fool of myself and I just end up getting stressed out, I avoid it and instead turn to shows, video games, drawing and fandoms
In a video game, they don’t expect you to know everything right out of the gate, and they’ll tell you. There’s no consequences to asking questions to things you don’t understand, and they’re usually not too difficult of concepts to understand in the first place. And games usually are pretty good at telling you what you need to do and giving you the knowledge to do so, I don’t have to do a lot of guesswork as to what I’m supposed to do or how to approach a situation, and if I do, then that’s usually a consequence of bad game design. And you have to rely on your own knowledge to progress, and I feel accomplishment when I do something right, and the game rewards me in some way too
And drawing is the only real world skill I have, and I’m proud of myself when it turns out good. It’s an actual skill I’ve cultivated myself and continue to cultivate, even if I forget to draw a lot or have trouble figuring it out sometimes. And it’s something I can show the world. Not much to anyone in the real world, especially not my family since I doubt they’re interested in my fanart, but I can at least show them to the Internet
And while fandom isn’t the nicest place to be, interacting on these spaces requires knowledge that I actually have and am interested in, and people actually will listen to what I say, and sometimes even agree with me. It’s one of the only places I feel an iota of smartness, even if I can’t be that analytical because my brain isn’t like that naturally and tends to see very surface level things, or deeper things I just can’t express in words
And just all in all, those things make me happy. Yeah I feel guilt at night that I favor those things instead of dealing with real world stuff, but they’re all I know and have
At least I think that’s part of the reason why. I don’t know for sure and I don’t know if I worded it all correctly
#a part of me wants to be mad at my parents#but they mean well and have reasonable demands and they’ll understand sometimes#even though I do barely anything#and I wouldn’t even know what I’m talking about anyways so the problem is clearly me#I both feel like I went on too long#and that I missed points I had#I get too caught up in points sometimes that I forget what I started out with#real life stuff#answers
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(1) Hello, than you for your posts about Lore Olympus and for recommending the Pyrrhic_Victoria podcast. I'm a very casual reader of the series, at time going months without checking the episodes and it's fascinating how many problems just flew over my head, although I had weird impression when reading the chapter about Persephone defeating Kronos, it felt odd and off (the reporters - just... how?).
Considering you put this into 3 parts, I'll just be responding to all three in one post if that's okay! (hence the copy pastes above!)
The S2 finale was definitely where I really started to go "uhhhhhh" with the series. The trial already had me raising my eyebrows (such as the Eris reveal) but the S2 finale was where I really just started to drop off and lose the love I once had for the series.
ETA: I realize the tone of this post kinda went off but it's a hot button topic of mine that I enjoy talking about so bear with it haha Thank you for wishing me luck with Rekindled, I got big things planned ❤️❤️❤️
To address #2, I actually have a liiiittle bit of beef with that notion. As a writer, I don't think it's necessarily good form to blame the audience for failing to meet expectations. Yes, audience members can come up with some wild theories and expectations especially when it comes to serialized stories like this, but the core of the issue is that LO/Rachel doesn't manage what it sets up well at all. Even the most basic expectations for where the story is going seem to be dropped, expectations that anyone who pays an inch of attention to the series would come up with.
For example, I don't think it was too big of an ask to expect the time skip actually show more than it did. A lot of people were hyped to see Persephone be on her own, forced to do her mother's job, and live up to everything she had bragged about at the start of S2 (about how she had 'peaked' in her mother's duties) not to mention offer her an opportunity to make spring her own. There was also the theory/expectation that it would potentially lead to an actual genuine abduction, through Hades option to go to the Mortal Realm and take her "back" to the Underworld in defiance of Zeus' sentencing.
And of course, there's what happened with the Eros x Psyche myth, the return of Kronos, and the Hymn of Demeter, all of which are stories that not only had setups as far back as S1, but Rachel has butchered within the confines of LO because she wants to try and be "subversive", not realizing that being "subversive" doesn't mean completely screwing over the original meanings of these myths or writing a poorly-constructed story.
These, to me, are not wild expectations to have in the slightest for a comic that's claiming to be a retelling of the taking of Persephone. But LO is as far from being a true retelling as retellings can possibly get. It can hardly even be called fanfiction at this point.
Point is, it's up to the writer to fulfill the expectations they set, and that's a separate thing entirely from an audience setting their expectations "too high". It's not like people are asking for anything that's outside the reasonable realm of what Rachel is tackling, everything that I see people "expecting" is pretty par for the course for the stuff Rachel has noticeably set up (like the return of Kronos, for example).
I see the argument crop up a lot that people should just "lower their expectations" of LO for the sake of enjoying it, but frankly, if I were in Rachel's position, I would be downright insulted and disappointed in myself if I found out my audience had to lower their expectations of me and my work to enjoy it. I don't want an audience out of pity, I want an audience because I've put out a damn good piece of work that's earned that audience. And this isn't something that's unique to me, this is pretty much the viewpoint of every other creator I know, so if Rachel is seriously hiding behind the notion that it's her audience's 'fault' for having their expectations too high, then she's a coward, full stop. She set those expectations herself in a lot of ways, and especially by going so far as to claim LO as a 'retelling' of some of the most beloved myths in literature.
As a writer, it's disrespectful as fuck to see people come up with these kinds of arguments instead of expecting better of someone who claims to be a professional and regularly brags about their awards (which weren't even earned, they were very likely bought).
As an audience member, I shouldn't have to turn off my brain and forgo my own intelligence as a reader to enjoy someone else's work. I'd rather just stop reading it altogether and put that energy into something else far more enjoyable and worth my time.
#just have some integrity and write an actual story#own up to your mistakes and be willing to learn#lo critical#anti lore olympus#lore olympus critical#ask me anything#ama
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15 Questions + 15 Friends
Thanks @shinraalpha for the tag :)
Are you named after anyone?
According to my mum, I share a name with a character in an Australian soap opera, who she thought was cool and took no shit and was the type of person she wanted her daughter to grow up to be. (Which is good, because if my dad had had his way I'd have been named Siobhan, after Siobhan Fahey from Bananarama)
When was the last time you cried?
It's actually been like three whole days! Which is my longest streak of not-crying so far in 2024. It's a real bad time rn folks.
Do you have kids?
God no. Respect to those who do but it is literally my worst nightmare
What sports do you play/have you played?
I ride horses, and I used to be a total jock in school (before all the chronic illnesses happened). I played tennis, rounders, hockey, netball, football, occasionally cricket when the mood arose. I also rock climb sometimes, though arguably that's mostly to hang out with friends. I wish I had the capacity to play more sports, but the universe said no
Do you use sarcasm?
Arguably I don't use anything but
What is the first thing you notice about people?
It varies, but I'm somewhat faceblind and also not a particularly observant person, so usually just whatever is most distinctive - a cool hat, snazzy glasses, an interesting voice, fun hair.
What's your eye color?
Green, that can look grey in some lights and then REALLY green in others.
Scary movies or happy endings?
I'm a sucker for a happy ending and I'm not sorry
Any talents?
Arguably I'm a talented writer, though I am less convinced by that with every passing month ;_____; I'm also pretty decent with horses. I probably have other talents, but mostly I'm too tired to cultivate any of them these days.
Where were you born?
This feels like a data-mining question. But I have zero emotional attachment to the city I was born in, and have only visited a handful of times.
What are your hobbies?
Does an ongoing existential crisis count as a hobby? Other than that, horses, reading, writing, watching a lot of Youtube and TV. I'm learning to crochet right now which is pretty fun, and I used to cosplay, though I haven't in a few years and I miss sewing, so I'd like to get back into making clothes somehow.
Do you have any pets
Not currently. Our family dog passed back in October, and we aren't quite ready for a new one yet. But it is my dream to have an absolute menagerie one day.
How tall are you?
5ft6 or thereabouts
Favorite subject in school?
I was a maths/physics nerd in school, though I wasn't really 'in school' for most of my school career.
Dream job?
I have a thousand dream jobs for a thousand opportunities I never took, but right now my dream job would be for someone to pay me so much money to write my silly little stories that I never need to worry about whether I can support myself without the help of my parents. Or to live in a society that supports people regardless of their contribution to this capitalist hellhole we reside in. Just let me sleep I'm so tired.
Tagging?
@youreonmyrunway, @aceraleigh, @mitchway, @galadriel1010, anyone else who wants to answer questions, go nuts <3
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Hello!!! I am so curious if you have any spare Trillium and Ivy lore that you’d like to share? Any backstories, character playlists, cut scenes, whatever you’d like! It’s definitely become one of my comfort fics, and it’s so well written and funny! Have a great day! 🤞🏻
Hell yeah! I just opened my original note/outline document to look through it, so here's some concepts that never made it into the final version (but could still be true!):
-[re:meryl and milly] one of the couple is trans. everyone assumes it is 6-foot deadlift-a-tree Milly, but it is of course 5'4" blow-away-in-a-stiff-wind Meryl
-Hoppered, or Hop, liaises with the May homeless population and still spends a huge amount of time on the streets, but has been a staple at the shelter for so long that the people who run the place started insisting on paying him to help them with outreach. He is usually around somewhere in his wheelchair with his backpack of supplies for specific recipients - like he takes people their prescriptions, makes sure the people with allergies get special groceries, knows exactly where to put up notices about shower and bed and job opportunities. One of the people at the shelter is the blind woman from the manga
-actual part of my notes: "livio's just like didja bang yet. didja bang yet. hey hey, nick. you fuckin. hey. and nick is like I Will Push You Out Of This Moving Car I Swear To God. but privately also thinking like, i can never admit how much ive been jerking it recently, could vash STOP carrying heavy bags of mulch around the parking lot all day, please vash i am going to die"
-Another long chunk of the notes, detailing the Saverem family dynamic: "vash explains he grew up on a farm with some ex-commune hippie parents who adopted he and knives and tried to get away from a lot of the groupthink of the commune while still imparting their ideals onto the twins. which meant homeschooling and a lot of camping, backpacking, learning to live off the land kinda stuff. alex died when the twins were really young but rem was a good single mom. but the twins always were competitive and when knives caused the accident it tore the family apart. vash was in the hospital for a really long time and ended up never going to college because of it, and knives started college but dropped out to join the group he ran with for several years. rem couldn't quite empty-nest because vash had to be home a lot for recovery and went through a long period of depression during which he slowly went back and got his GED, learned to cope with prosthetics and chronic pain, relearned loving the land, and turned from big farming projects to smaller garden projects. then rem was diagnosed with ovarian cancer which is cruel because she and alex never could conceive - why they adopted - and rem and vash had a really strong period of bonding while he healed and she died, during which she apologized for accidentally teaching the twins that productivity and purpose was everything, because really purpose isn't everything. just existing is a good in the world. existing and being kind to yourself and others. and plants that didn't "do" anything were just as precious as ones that made food or other "useful" stuff. Vash grows flowers for rem. she loved red flowers, especially geraniums. rem dies."
AGAIN I JUST WANT TO SAY, I was fuckign writing this before Stampede even got announced, so that damn apollo dodgeball of prophecy got me even with the idea of "plants that don't do anything."
-the original outline for the final showdown with Legato involved Livio, Zazie, Meryl & Milly ALL also going to the warehouse (later turned into the abandoned nightclub). It was batshit and I realized how untenable it was pretty early, and dumped everyone from the scene except the vital players (V, W, K, Legato). I also had this incredibly complicated way to justify why Legato getting arrested wouldn't just immediately get Knives also arrested? and then I realized that, duh, by far the easiest way to sidestep the issue was to just kill Legato. He dies in every canon anyway. Like why was I trying to keep him alive, lol.
-midvalley was going to be an FBI guy? ok sure
OTHER LITTLE SCENES I meant to write for the follow-up of mini-fics:
-Nick is from somewhere cold, and underestimates heat. He speaks at a burial in the summer (full suit, no tent) and ends up having heat exhaustion. doesn't know why he's so sick until Vash gets the details of his day out of him and Vash is like, good god man, here is water, go lie down, did you not grow up with constant PSAs about how not to get heat stroke? and nick's like NO you dipshit!
-Vash is from somewhere hot, and underestimates cold! An ice storm that is unreasonably strong for the area (thanks climate change!) passes through and Vash is just excited for snow like a kid at Christmas. meanwhile Nick is going feral trying to winterize a house that was never built for/intended to be winterized. Vash's joy at the snow helps remind him to see the beauty of it for a while, and that's nice, but then their power stays out for like a week and it becomes "huddle for warmth in a snowed in cabin" trope except more depressingly realistic bc it's your own damn home and you can barely live in it. :C (drawn from personal experience, ahaha... ugh)
-at some point I had meant to write them going on a trip to the beach with the girls, and/or a trip to December so Vash could meet Melanie and Nick could visit St. Michaels
anyway that's all I can think of for now! thank you so much for being a fan of my silly story! <3 <3 <3 I loved writing it and I love how much love it's gotten over time since I posted it.
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Okay so new college post instead of reblogging that infinitely long one but here's the gist of the situation under the cut, it's a ramble, and I'm mostly just trying to get my thoughts coherent so no need to feel obligated to offer your sympathies or anything like that because of the situation kinda thing @omni-scient-pan-da
Okay so-
I applied to 10 schools because my guidance counselor got me a fee waiver
I applied to 5 in state schools and 5 out of state schools (four of which were Ivy Leagues and one of which was Ivy Adjacent so like a long shot)
So far I've been accepted to all 5 in state schools and rejected from 1 out of state school and I'm waiting to hear back from 3 Ivy Leagues and the 1 Ivy League Adjacent
But see... The thing is, Michelle also got accepted to one of the in state schools, aka the most prestigious school in our state, and that's like her dream school and she already committed and everything, and we had joked in the past that we should room together if we went to the same college but since we both got in, Michelle has been like... Seriously talking about us rooming together
And she understands and supports the fact that I'm still waiting on admissions decisions from 4 schools, but ALSO (backstory time)
My parents are separated and my dad is an asshole
Unfortunately he's also an asshole that makes all the money, we live off of like pure child support and then my part time job is used to pay for things for myself that way I don't have to ask my mom for money
My dad is such an asshole that he refuses to fill out the fucking financial aid documents so I can afford to go to college
The ONLY way I'd be able to warrant going to an out of state school is if I have financial aid because they'll take the cost from like 60k-80k down to like free with the bracket we fall under
My father refuses to fill out the financial aid, there's no way to get financial aid without him filling it out, regardless of if I get accepted to these four schools, I don't think I'll be able to afford to go
Anyways, my mother is very upset about this but I've more or less come to terms with it, I've applied for every scholarship I can to go to the prestigious in state school and I would very much like to room with Michelle and start planning dorm layouts and fun things like that, but like--
If I get accepted to any one of those four school's I'll have to decide to not go
Like I'll have to choose to not go because of financial aid or whatever reason
And it'll have been my choice
But if I get denied from all four of those schools I don't have anything to worry about because it makes sense for me to stay in state then, and the only "choice" I have to make suddenly becomes a no-brainer
Apparently the Ivy Adjacent school is announcing their decisions a week from today, which is much sooner than the Ivys who aren't releasing their decisions until March 30th kinda thing which is stressing me out
On one hand it would be really nice to get in, it would be proof that all the hard work and effort I put into school all these years, all the tears I've cried all the late nights I've pulled away worth it to get perfect 4.0 grades in advanced classes
... but on the other hand I would have to make a decision that will probably end in me denying the opportunity to go to a very prestigious school with a good genetics program and I... I really don't want to have to make that decision
So it's not like I don't want to get in, because I'd be very grateful for the opportunity I'd have to attend an out of state school
But for the first time in YEARS I can actually picture a future for myself? And I haven't been able to do that since I was a kid and I really don't want to have to choose between that future I've envisioned for myself and all the what ifs I'd be missing out on if I didn't push myself out of my comfort zone and leave the state to go to school
Idk it's just... A lot of decision making and even though I put a lot of time and energy into those applications, part of me hopes that I just get rejected that way I don't ever have to make the decision between the two and I won't have to wonder what would have happened if I made the other decision
Idk if that makes any sense but yeah, we'll see what happens next Tuesday and then at the end of March with admissions decisions and... Well, here's hoping for an easy decision 🤞🏽
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