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#please know that i am a sentimental bitch who likes to pretend sometimes that this show doesnt suck as bad as it does lmao
faunina · 3 years
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I have NEVER watched spn but you are making the urge to do so very strong.
OH MY GD ADSGSADGSADGDSAGSADGADSG
i dont know whether to say "im so sorry" or "you are very welcome". so anon: good luck LMAO
start this show At Thine Own Risk, if you want to! but let it be KNOWN that i will not be held accountable for any damages or cases of Intense Brain Rot you may incur if you do. the best way to watch it is probably with a friend or two, even if its just some ppl you can liveblog your reactions to. trust me, youll NEED that outlet. other than that, before you start this show PLEASE BEWARE:
- tons of racism - just, so much sexism - any sort of trans-/homophobia u can imagine (and worse, probably) - lots of death and injury and similarly upsetting things (i was never really aware for example just HOW often we get close-ups of someone cutting their arm/hand in this show until a friend who was sensitive to that sorta thing pointed it out)
and always remember that this show was written by Mostly Straight Men in 2005 and onwards. so dont let ur hopes get too high <3 all the best things about this show are unintentional writing choices and fan interpretation anyway
(PS: im PRETTY sure ive seen a Guide or two around about which episodes are skippable and which are character/plot important, so if you decide to get into this show But Dont Want To Spend 13+ Days Of Your Life on it, lmk! ill reblog one or something)
#spn#anon#asked#a personal blogging experience#this all to say! dear anon!! that i am for One not the best person to talk about the Many fuckin hatecrimes this show commits#(i am queer neurodivergent and a woman and thats about all i can claim for myself. so! yeah. other ppl have written up MUCH better Takes#about for example the racism and trans/homophobia baked into this show#and i encourage you to maybe seek those things out first!! esp if you seeing stuff like that might affect you#the Other thing is also that as much as i hate this show for a lot of reasons. i dont really like holding onto negativity too much#bc it just kinda exhausts me. so if youve gotten a positive image of this show from my tag ramblings????#please know that i am a sentimental bitch who likes to pretend sometimes that this show doesnt suck as bad as it does lmao#it was a Big Part of my highschool years so i just. feel some kinda way about it#SO? do i recommend it? yes/no. its a bad show except sometimes it really HITS. its a good show except i hate it intensely#i will recommend it but ONLY on the condition that you know what ur signing up for (a lot of disappointment most likely)#i ASSUME that if uve followed me for any length of time you know im a tag-ranting kinda person and that u should read my tags always.#so if you are still reading these: hi i love you <3#its very weird to hear that i am any sort of parasocial influence on other ppl. but im always happy to spread my brain rot <3#EDIT: ive sat here for like 10 minutes maybe and like. anon if ur readin this: PLEASE feel free to message me or send an ask off-anon#i would LOVE to talk more with u if ur down for that
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wallflowerimagines · 3 years
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Hello! Um... I don’t really know how to start this but say I love your hc! I think you do a fantastic job on them, there all very sweet but being the s.o.b I am I’m here to ask for some angst. How would you think the lords act if their S/O died?
...I'm feeling mean. 😈
Warnings: Angst, Death, Horror Game villains making bad decisions/not coping with tragedy, suicide.
Alcina Dimitrescu
Denial, Denial, Denial
You can't be dead. There has to be something, anything that she can do to save you. Alcina scrambles for a solution, attacking the problem from all sides, despite the reality of the situation staring her in the face.
Immediately injects your body with Cadou in a desperate hope to save you. Any possible chance that he has to save you she's going to take it.
It's not likely that your corpse reanimates, but it does mutate. At the end of the process, what's left of your body hardly even looks like you anymore, and she can't bring herself to look at it.
She builds a gilded crypt for your body-- it's stunning. It's inspired by you, all your favorite colors, styles and hobbies are incorporate to make the room feel full of your spirit. Alcina is an artistic woman, and she throws herself into the project like she's possessed.
It might take years, even decades to complete. It has to be perfect. When it's done she feels accomplished, but twice as empty. It might be one of the most beautiful dedications she's ever made, but it can't replace you. She has the room sealed off with no way to get to it, so she can't be tempted to visit. She just needs a piece of of you still in her home, or she can't get through the day.
...If your corpse does reanimate, it's actually worse for Alcina. Whatever she brought back was a shambling, horrifying mess of mold wearing your face. It couldn't think for itself, or even follow commands--it just wanders in circles and attacks anything that gets too close.
She keeps your reanimated corpse in a cell, unable to bring herself to destroy it completely. Sometimes, she'll go down to the basement and talk to the thing like it is you, telling it about her day, having one-sided conversations and thinking of all the wonderful memories the two of you shared.
When its dead eyes meet hers, her lungs seize in her chest and tears gather in her eyes. Alcina doesn't cry often, but when your corpse meets her gaze she starts to sob. Those eyes used to look at her with life and love and now...
Still, she can't stop herself from visiting it. It's a compulsion she can't stop, and it tears open the wound every time, but some irrational part of her deep, deep down thinks that one day, she'll descend those steps and you'll be there to greet her with a warm smile.
In either scenario, she will never have another partner. You're impossible to replace, and she feels truly, genuinely empty without you. Rest well, Darling. You'll never be forgotten.
Donna Beneviento
There is such a thing as a last straw, and this is it for Donna.
Please remember: this is a woman who has lost everything. Mother Miranda might have given her a new "family", but Donna is not nearly as attached to these new members as she is to her original family. And the loss of her original family has shaped her in such a way that if you died? She would be absolutely devastated.
It's not fair to put this kind of pressure on you, but in a very real way you were her last hope for normalcy. She had all these plans to fix her family with you. You were so instrumental to her hopes for the future that now that you're gone, it feels like she has no hope at all. You were her missing link, her one true love, and now that you're dead...
Donna screams until her throat is raw when she finds out you're gone. Angie can't help her, nothing can. She just can't cope with reality anymore.
She'll build a life sized Doll of you to try to help herself cope, but the minute she tries to implant of piece of her Cadou in it, she is filled with such a vehement hatred of the thing that she starts scream-crying before she takes an axe to it's face and hacks it to pieces. How dare it pretend to be you?!! It's not even close to the real thing, she shouldn't even have tried--
She might try to induce a hallucination of you to help her get through the day to day, but it's not the same. She can't perfectly mimic your laugh, or your smile, or the way you tuck her hair away from her face. It's so obviously not you, and Donna is... alone.
I do hate to say it, but she will absolutely try to kill herself if you died. You were the one person who understood her, empathized with her, and you were her best friend. You were her support system, the one person who could carry her through the worst times in her life, but you're gone. Donna can't believe that anyone else could be there for her like you were.
Salvatore Moreau
Absolutely, irreparably broken.
When the two of you were in a relationship, you busied yourself not only with smothering Salvatore in all of the love and affection that you could, but you also did a lot to help his self-esteem and mental health.
You made sure he knew that he was loved, that you could never hate him, and even on your death bed you make him promise never to forget how wonderful he is.
Once you're gone, though, Salvatore cracks.
He clings to every bit of you felt behind. All of your jewelry, clothing, pictures and sentimental items are preserved to the best of his ability. Your living space is transformed into a shrine dedicated to you.
It's not healthy, but he also deifies you in his memory. Mother Miranda is no longer the only person that he worships-- the memory of you is now sacred to him. You become something holy and perfect in his mind's eye. It doesn't matter how many flaws you had in reality, your death has turned even your worst flaws into traits to be admired and praised. His perception of you is totally twisted.
Speaking of Mother Miranda, he regresses a lot. His adoration of Mother Miranda was something you were helping him work through, but now he's right back at square one, and even worse off than before.
Moreau can't make a decision on his own anymore--from what to say, to what to do, and sometimes even what to eat. After all, it's his fault that you died, isn't it? You were his partner and he used to be is a doctor. How could he possibly trust himself with anything when he couldn't manage to save the most important thing in his life?
To the rest of his family, he's more pathetic than before. His obsession with his Mother was usually limited to when she was in the room, but now it's constant.
If he ever hears the quote "It's better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all," he gets supremely, violently angry. No. No, that's not true, it's bullshit, how dare you even say that to his face.
If he hadn't loved you, you would be alive. He would be alone, but you would be safe. You would be happy.
Now he's alone, and all you are is dead. He can't ever come back from it.
Karl Heisenberg
Rage. Unending, earth shattering Rage.
Whatever killed you better start to fucking pray, because Karl Heisenberg will not quit until it's suffering.
He doesn't kill who or whatever it was. He let's it sit there, mangled beyond belief, and uses his knowledge of mechanics and biology to keep it alive in constant, unending pain.
It's cathartic for him, but not in a healthy way. The more he hurts it, the better he feels, but at the end of the day, you're still gone, and he's still alone.
He's... lost.
Heisenberg should be angry, fuck he wants to be angry more than anything, but the longer he keeps the thing alive... emotions seem like they're too far away anymore. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants... you.
He keeps something of yours in his pocket at all times, just to run his fingers over it and remember you. Your eyes, your laugh, your smile... It's almost like a stress ball, and these days sticking his hand into his pocket to wrap his fingers around the thing is the only way he can calm down.
Sometimes he turns to ask your opinion on something, or tell you a joke with a big smile on his face because this one is going to make you laugh for sure-- and then he freezes when the reality sets in once again. You're not here.
Remember, Heisenberg has idealized the two of you as this perfect partnership. You were the first person who looked at him and loved everything that you saw. You weren't just his first real relationship, the first person that he implicitly trusted, but you were also his very first real friend.
He wasn't the most friendly person to begin with, but he did get better because of you. He was still spoiled, a little socially awkward, and maybe his dark sense of humor would slip and get a little too much, but he grew as a person.
Now that you're gone, he can't even remember what it's like not being a cruel, empty shell of rage. All he has left is his hatred of Mother Miranda.
After a while, it doesn't matter if he's ready to take her on or not. He's going to face that bitch head on and kill her, or die trying.
If he wins, he's finally free. If he doesn't... that's not so bad either. Karl doesn't really believe in an afterlife, but there's something appealing about joining you wherever you might be.
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fruggo · 3 years
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Hi hi can I req Danny, Leon and Steve with a male s/o who's a real goofy guy? Cracks jokes during chases, just can't take things too seriously, laid back and chill guy who prioritizes having fun
absolutely, thanks for requesting!! :D this is cute haha. i hope you like it!
danny, leon, and steve with goofy m!s/o
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍
danny would consider himself a pretty fun guy, though perhaps his idea of fun would not be the same as a normal person's. so i wouldn't take his word for it if i were you.
honestly? he thinks you're the shit. he genuinely likes your bad dad jokes great puns, will banter back and forth with you, and he might even give you the hatch instead of a mori. although he would love to have your picture, it can wait until the next trial. or the next if he still doesn't feel like it. who knows?
he likes that you're not too serious about everything. since danny is the entity's golden boy, he never has to worry about anything! he likes it here! and it's cool that someone else has a similar mindset about things. although he might have misunderstood "making the best of the situation and just being a goofy person" for "liking it here". you never really clarified which one it was, and why should he ask?
when danny finds out that you act basically the same way with all the killers, cracking jokes and laughing things off in chases, he gets all pouty. he thought he was special. well, looks like you're getting that mori now.
he still likes you though, and he gives you even more special attention now in the form of tunneling and camping! he means well <3 (no he doesn't he is a little bitch and a loser)
but then he hears stories from the other killers about you, and is pleased to find that you are significantly more fun with him, and, dare i say, flirty!
but he still wants to tunnel and camp you.
when you realize what he's doing, you don't get mad about it. what's the point? in fact you think it's really funny.
the first time danny proximity-camped you, you found it rewarding to just talk and talk and talk until he finally talked back. it took a while, but he did finally respond.
you would just say dumb shit, and then you would say more dumb shit, and then it got annoying and danny had to tell you to shut up. and then you would just dramatically whisper something like "okay, pissbaby."
and danny thought maybe he should be angry with you, but he just wasn't. he couldn't be mad at you, because even if he was, you wouldn't care. you weren't scared of him.
so when he finally left and you got unhooked, he tunneled you obviously. it makes sense, okay?
"wow, am i that handsome and gorgeous and attractive?" you monologued while smashing a pallet onto danny's head. "i'm really just so irresistible that you want to tunnel me? honestly, danny, i'm flattered. i'm touched."
danny couldn't remember since when you were on a first name basis, but he let it slide. just because maybe he thinks you are that handsome and gorgeous and attractive.
dude danny is kinda fucked up but like. he's funny. and charming. and he also let you take off his mask once, and so now you know he's also hot. he has a few things going for him as long as you ignore the part where he chases you with a knife.
𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘
leon, our favorite rookie :D he's so cute!!! sorry im gushing i just cant resist i love him !!
and you love him too, so much. that's why you accidentally distract him during trials by goofing off and almost getting him killed
it's out of love. leon knows that. you don't really mean to.
while leon's doing a generator, you are probably somewhere nearby trying to find something even remotely interesting to do. and that might involve climbing a tree, then falling out of the tree. but it wasnt your fault! you swore the crows were attacking you, they didn't want you up in that tree because they knew you were just so cool up there and the Entity couldn't have somebody being better and hotter and funnier than itself so high in the sky.
leon could only smile and shake his head, inspecting you for the wounds you inevitably had. when you said you were fine, he was very skeptical, because your version of fine was never the same as his.
the killer knew where you were now because of your very loud "FUCK!" as the crows supposedly attacked you and forced you out of the tree, so you immediately put on your game face and got ready to command some attention.
leon said no, you were not in the right headspace to get chased. you only shrugged at him, slapped his ass, and ran towards the killer yelling, "HEY YOU WANNA HEAR AN AGGIE JOKE?"
leon was used to this by now, and he found it rather endearing. you were an enigma to him, really. how you could be so laid back about this whole murder-die-sacrifice thing was beyond him, but it was refreshing. he liked your enthusiasm.
since he had just come from raccoon city, he was still in his "i have to do the right thing and save everybody because it's my duty" kind of mood. you made sure to lighten up that burden and remind him that it's okay to chill sometimes, and he can't save everybody, especially not here. if you were in a particularly bad trial, you always made sure to get him to crack a smile.
likewise, leon wasn't always too jazzed about your "funny guy gets killed so the team can live" complex. he knew you didn't care, or at least you said you didn't, but he still hated that you constantly sacrificed yourself and acted like it was no big deal. to him, it was. he hated going back to the campfire alone and waiting forever for you to show up again; he cared about you and it hurt to see you sacrifice yourself so much even if he knew you would return.
leon didn't have a stick up his ass or anything--he had his fair share of humorous moments (i mean have you seen infinite darkness ashdjshdf that man just wants love and food). he just wants to save everybody, you included. it's frustrating to come to terms with the fact that he can't.
he loves it when he can hear you yelling at the killer mid-chase from afar, be it a pun or a swear or both. you've even influenced him to crack his own jokes while being chased sometimes--it comes out more often if he's being tunneled. if you ever happened to see him do it, you would wipe a fake tear from your face and start clapping. you were very proud of your rookie.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍
the killers hated you and steve, and i mean like despised you
you were so chill. and for what???? why do you have chill???? nobody else has chill, what makes you think you deserve to have chill????
they could never make you angry and that made them super angry
you and steve would quip back and forth between chases, sometimes going so far as to pretend the killer is not there and talk about something like what kind of cheese you missed eating the most. let me tell you, that did not make the trickster happy.
he was a star!! a star, and here you two little shits were, ignoring him to talk about cheese. honestly, the audacity.
you and steve ran to the killer shack with the trickster on your heels, still talking about cheese. how the conversation had gone on this long was a mystery, and it continued to be a mystery while the two of you shared a chase in the shack.
steve was very happy to have found someone to share his sentiments with. everybody was so serious all the time, and while he was similar to leon with his altruistic streaks, he was slightly less responsible and occasionally enjoyed doing dumb stunts just for shits and giggles.
you can bet that whenever you are in a trial together, it's a competition to see who can hold the killer's attention longer. your teammates don't mind--all they have to do is complete gens, so their job is fairly easy. and it's always entertaining to catch sight of one of you sprinting with a new flashlight in your hand to go annoy the crap out of the killer.
there's no question that steve would die for you a hundred times over, and you would do the same for him. you didn't see it as a very big deal--you didn't see anything here as a very big deal. steve was the only important thing you had, really, and you cared for him a lot. saving him? kapeesh. no sweat.
scenario: steve is being chased, you throw yourself in front of him, the killer has noed, you are hooked, you give him a thumbs up as you die, he flips you off because why the fuck would you die for him what is wrong with you he's supposed to die for you and you know that?? why would you do that???? great, now steve gets to escape and it's all your fault.
you would simply smile. he was so cute sometimes.
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yoonpobs · 3 years
Text
difficult | myg
pairing: min yoongi x oc
genre: fluff, mini angst, super cute, mutual pining
words: 3, 812
summary: you're difficult and yoongi just wants you
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“I can’t believe it,” Jimin whistles. Taehyung mirrors his sentiment but with a look of disbelief.
“Me neither. But here we are.” Taehyung states matter-of-factly.
You were silent, not because you had nothing to say—but because you couldn’t believe it either. How did you allow yourself to fall into this trap? A trap you’ve spent your entire life training to avoid. And you would consider yourself someone that was dedicated to their craft and you truly were. But you were still susceptible to guilty pleasures and you just found your match.
“Why is no one stopping me? Why isn’t anyone telling me to get a grip of myself?” You cry.
Jimin looks at you sympathetically even if he knows that you hated being pitied. Taehyung at least avoids your gaze but the tell-tale signs of a frown appear on his face when you see the furrow of his brows.
“You know … you’re allowed to feel this way, right?” Jimin says carefully and you were more annoyed with the fact that he was walking on eggshells with you when you’ve long passed that stage of prudent navigation around each other. And you knew exactly why he sounded the way he did.
“I’m not. I’m supposed to be an impenetrable fortress that cannot be shaken by anything let alone anyone. I am an unyielding, resolute woman that refuses to be tied down by society’s narratives.” You say all at once.
Jimin and Taehyung blink at you. They expected this—but it still surprised them that you vocalised their thoughts.
Jimin clears his throat.
“Let me rephrase that,” He says sternly, “You’re allowed to feel, period.”
You shake your head because you’ve fallen too far—too hard. And you needed to get a grip of yourself because you didn’t work hard perfecting the flawless expression of bitchiness and temptation to be taken seriously amongst a Board of Directors filled with men. People like you couldn’t afford to feel.
Especially when the world never feels for you. For women.
“Do you hear yourself Jimin?” You exasperate as you throw your hands in the air in frustration.
“____—” Taehyung attempts to reason with you, but as always, you never let him get a word in. He knows you don’t mean any malice because you’ve built your walls so high that you think everyone is out to get you—but he just cares about you. He wishes you’d let him.
“No. You don’t understand guys. People like me? We—I—can’t afford to slack off. Not now and not anytime soon. I hear you guys and I wish I could understand where you’re coming from but frankly, I won’t ever be able to. You have the liberty of picking your battles because this world is yours. I had to fight my battles on my own to claim this world as my own and I’m nowhere near deserving of that role yet. I can’t feel.”
Their eyes soften at you and you avoid their gazes. You didn’t want their pity, and you didn’t want to sit in a tight office with their stares so heavy on your own.
“You deserve to be happy,” Taehyung says sadly.
You don’t respond, but you hear the chairs in front of your desk move against the hardwood floor. Then, you hear the opening and closing of your doors and you’re finally alone. Like how you do best.
You don’t allow another thought as insignificant as the one that threatens to overtake you to pass through your mind as you quickly tend to your pending projects.
The name of a certain man lingers very vaguely, though.
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It annoys yet terrifies you how much you needed to consciously play your cards just right when you step into another board meeting. You thrived when you spoke at the podium, and no man—even the most bigoted—could deny that you were a born leader. But that didn’t mean that they liked that fact. In fact, most of them despised the idea that a woman as young as you was even allowed in the same room as they were. You wished you could yell at them, cry and shout until they understood that you were deserving.
You couldn’t, for very obvious reasons. But until you could—you needed to be smart.
“Mr Lee, with all due respect—liquifying the compartment company will not bring us the projected profit that you’ve pitched in the previous meeting.”
You’re level-headed and cool when you attempt to reason with the older and very stubborn man. He was old, and stubborn, which was never good news for you.
Mr Lee, the Chairman’s younger brother, simply scoffs at you, and you try your best not to let your eye twitch.
“What? Do you have a bachelor’s degree in business?” He sneers.
You blink.
“I have a double Masters in Business Administration and Finance.”
Mr Lee stiffens, and you briefly see Seokjin, the fellow nephew of Mr Kim, holding back his snorts at your declaration.
“I am qualified to be making this statement, and if you don’t believe in just words—which you really shouldn’t—here are the documents and projections from my end.” You distribute the analysis you took upon yourself to complete over the weekend and worked overtime to finish it as you handed it around the table.
Mr Kim, the Chairman, who was a far better man than everyone else in the Board of Directors, offers you an impressed smile as he flips through your booklet while you stand straight with your shoulders rolled back. A stance you often took to show that you knew your shit.
“This is very … meticulous. Great work as always, ___.” Mr Kim compliments you.
You don’t let it show on your face but you’re pleased with the way Mr Lee grumbles under his breath like a petulant child.
“Very well. We’ll keep the compartment company as it is,” Mr Kim declares and everyone else in the room shuffles to collect their belongings as the meeting comes to an end, “Meeting adjourned.”
+
“You’re absolutely badass,” Jin whistles at you as you walk side-by-side, your folders snug against your chest.
You hide your smile but acknowledge it regardless.
“And you were … there. As usual.”
He snorts and you know he gets where you’re coming from. Jin was simply present at the meeting but he wasn’t actually present. His heart had no place in the business world but instead in a world filled with fine dining and diverse cuisines as he worked up a storm in the kitchen. But as every father—who is the Chairman of a country’s largest exporter—he had pushed that dream onto Jin from a young age.
But Jin was Jin, and you knew Mr Kim simply kept him here for the sake of it; fully aware of his son’s aspirations and determination of becoming a chef.
“You should just take my position. You’re so good at business talk—I didn’t understand half the shit you were saying the entire time.” He says.
You shrug.
“I mean, that’s the goal. But let’s just see for now,” You hum as you reach your office, and you still when you see the person waiting for you inside.
Jin takes a peek over your shoulder and spots the same person who has you looking so tense. He whistles at you as he stuffs his right hand in his pocket while offering you a consoling pat on your shoulder with his left before he stalks off.
“Good luck!” He calls out, and you internally groan at the oncoming interaction.
You brace yourself and put on a brave face as you step into your office, doors clicking, signalling your guest to turn around at the insinuation of your presence.
“Mr Min, what can I help you with?” You don’t look at him when you place your belongings on your table and you nearly miss his scoff with the way you attempt to busy yourself with any mindless activity that you can find on your desk.
“Mr Min? Not Yoongi anymore?”
You ignore his bitter tone and look at him with a reserved stare, raising an eyebrow as if to question his statement.
“Are we not co-workers?” You reply coolly and he scoffs much louder for you to hear.
“Co-workers … yeah,” He shrugs, leaning forward, “Do you usually kiss your co-workers?”
You are still at the sudden declaration and nearly drop the pen that was in your grip. He’s suddenly inches closer to you despite the relative distance of your desk between the both of you. You try to ignore the heat of his body, but it’s entirely too suffocating for you to pretend like he isn’t there.
“Don’t give me that nonsense,” You wave him off and you steady your voice because you weren’t ready for him to see you break. You allowed yourself too much space to be vulnerable and you needed to stop.
He sits back into the chair and folds his arms across his chest with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, this is not what we’re going to do.” He says, suddenly much firmer than he was a moment ago.
“I’m sorry?” You ask, clearly confused.
“None of this detached, emotionless attitude with me. I see through this facade and it’s not cute. You’re going to speak to me like an adult and address the very obvious feelings you have for me, and likewise. You’re not allowed to deflect like you always do because I expect you to be honest with me because you’re clearly not being honest to yourself.”
You blink up at him and your heart starts beating more rapidly within your chest as it betrays your stoic appearance.
Maybe that was why you fell for Yoongi in the first place. He didn’t tolerate you. Specifically, the shit that you pull on him. You were well aware you were a stubborn, hard-headed bitch that could be emotionally reserved 99% of the time when you interacted with others. And sometimes your bitchiness was uncalled for, but most people were too terrified to say anything about it to your face.
Yoongi?
He had no problems letting you know what he expected from you and how he thought of you from the beginning. It should’ve irked you. Based on your strict line of principles that you upheld—a man projecting his own thoughts of you that he had in his head, directly to you, should’ve been dehumanising, disrespectful even. But you never got that from Yoongi. He was brutally honest. And you appreciate honesty.
But sometimes it made you squirm.
“I … sorry, what? Are you insane? I don’t have feelings for you.” You narrow your eyes at him and hope you sound convincing enough.
But you knew Yoongi well enough to know that he saw through your blatant lie.
“I said: don’t deflect. You’re deflecting.” He scolds.
“You’re being unnecessarily distasteful right now,” You roll your eyes.
“Am I? Or am I just telling you the truth that you’ve been trying to deny for the past week that you’ve been cowardly avoiding me?” He’s calm when he makes the accusation. And it wasn’t even an accusation because it was the plain truth.
You burn, both in anger and in humiliation.
“What do you know about me Yoongi? Aren’t I just the company’s hot-headed bitch?” You snap, remembering the first words you heard from Yoongi.
“You are a hot-headed bitch, and I know you’re scared of admitting that you have feelings for me because you think feeling makes you weak.”
You ignore the fact that he admitted that you were a bitch, but Yoongi wasn’t the type to lie, nor was he the type to kiss ass. And you hated that he was still brutally honest, even when speaking about a topic so … intimate.
“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting this information from but you need to leave.” You stand up to walk towards the door so you could open it for him but he grabs your wrist before you make it there.
He turns you around to look at him. Properly look at him, that is. You’ve been avoiding direct eye contact with him because as good of a front you’ve worked on to put in front of him, you were human. And as a human, you were bound to have a weakness.
“You don’t get to walk away from me—this conversation—because you hate confrontation,” He frowns at you and you turn away to avoid his heavy gaze.
“Yoongi, can we not do this?” You sigh.
He chuckles dryly, using his right hand to nudge your face to look at him. It should’ve been demeaning, but you felt nothing like you were disrespected. You hated to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot more than you’d admit to anyone.
“No. We’re doing this. You’re going to address your feelings for me and actually work for what you want—and that’s clearly this,” He gestures between the two of you and you glare up at him.
“I told you! I don’t have any feelings for you.” You snarl at him, teeth bared like an animal but he just laughs at you like you were pathetic. You hated how small you felt in his presence but yet you were still whole.
“You don’t kiss a person you don’t have feelings for—you don’t hold someone you don’t have feelings for like they’re your safe space. You don’t have feelings for me? That’s funny because you did all of those things and you’ve never once complained when I reciprocated.”
You fumble with your words as the tip of your ears burn a bright red, which Yoongi easily catches.
“You don’t turn into a tomato if I was lying to you. You’re not like that, right? You’re self-assured. Ms-I’m-An-Impenetrable-Fortress,” He mocks.
“S-Stop acting as if you know me, Yoongi. You don’t and you never will.” You struggle against his grip on your wrist but he simply tugs you closer until your faces are inches apart.
“I don’t?” He scoffs, “Then tell me, why do I know that you confide Jimin and Taehyung for advice but never take it anyway because you’re too damn stubborn?”
You were about to retort but he’s quicker with his response.
“Then tell me, why do I know that you walk with your head held high into meetings but exit with your tail tucked between your legs because you’re afraid of sounding too dumb, too incompetent?”
You freeze.
“Then tell me, why do I know that you pull away from people not because you’re repulsed by them but because you’re afraid of forming actual bonds in the fear of being abandoned?”
You internally curse when you fear your eyes burning, and the lump in your throat becoming too much to bear.
“Then tell me, ___, why do I know you feel the same way about me but you’re too scared of looking dependent to do anything about it?” He whispers the last part when he pulls you tight against his chest.
You don’t fight him anymore, and you relax into the firm expanse of his chest and it terrifies you that it feels so much like home. A warm space you find comfort in.
You don’t even realise the first tear escapes your eyes until you feel Yoongi’s dress shirt turn slightly damp under the skin of your cheek. You’re mortified when you realise you’re crying and you attempt to pull away but his hands find their way around your waist to hold you tight.
“Don’t,” He whispers, “Don’t pull away from me.”
“Yoongi … I-I can’t,” You stutter, voice shaky.
He wipes a thumb on your cheek to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that you don’t bother hiding from him anymore.
“I worked my ass off to be taken seriously here and—and … if I get a boyfriend they’re going to think that I’m reliant, I’m weak, dependent on a man.” You ramble, but he just listens to your nonsensical statement as he rubs soothing circles on your head.
“I want you to rely on me, to depend on me. Stop thinking that you need to fight your battles alone. I’m here—I’ll be here. I’ve always been here but you need to let me be there for you.” He says softly.
You peer up at him with swollen eyes and he thinks you look beautiful. You always were beautiful. When you were commanding a meeting; when you were focused when you were angry; when you were laughing, and when you were sad. He was in for all of it.
“But ... the Board of Directors—”
He shushes you with a light kiss to the corner of your lip and you feel your stale heart flutter.
“I’m not here to be your saviour. I’m here to be your equal. I want to help you as much as you’ll help me. And believe me when I say you’ve helped me. The Board of Directors? Relationship or no relationship, they’ll be the same bigots that unfortunately dictate the policies in this company. The only person that has the ability to change anything in this situation is you ___.”
You feel your resolve breaking but you should’ve known that you’ve never had any resolve when it came to Yoongi. You were always weak around him. And maybe you needed to start accepting the fact that you were allowed to feel weak, to feel dependent on someone.
“What if you leave me.” You whine.
He snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows.
“Then I leave. But we don’t know what’s going to happen if we don’t try,” He says and you realise how close he’s gotten to you to the point you feel his breath on your lips.
“That’s not comforting to hear the slightest,” You complain.
“And nothing about a relationship is easy. But I’m willing to be with you. I’ve always been ready—it’s you that needs to make the decision, ___.”
You finally lock eyes with him and you see nothing but sincerity. Yoongi could be crass, and often mistaken as a dick. But he was just honourable. He wouldn’t lie to anyone or sugarcoat the difficult truth. In fact, he never made you feel inferior to him even when he was straightforward. He never treated you differently because you were terrifying—but he treated you how he would with anyone else. And that was comforting. While everyone else walked on eggshells with you, he was fearless with his declarations.
Even now.
“I like you. I have no qualms in admitting it. And I’ll say it over and over again until you believe me,”
You don’t reply but kiss him. And there are no explosive fireworks, and time still flows—but it feels familiar. It feels like a territory that you’ve known all along, a little rough around the edges with the time spent away, but a place you can allude to comfort.
He responds by licking into the seam of your mouth as you allow his tongue to lick behind your teeth, a small whine caught in the back of your throat as you card your fingers through his hair. The hands-on your waist presses you tighter, flush against his body.
He pulls away first, resting his forehead on your own.
“I need to hear you say it. None of this tip-toeing anymore.”
You offer him a small smile.
“I-I …”
He watches you stutter with a hooded gaze but nothing about his stare makes you feel pressured. It was more comforting than anything, and the way he still held onto you like you mattered—but weren’t fragile—allowed you some semblance of peace in retaining your identity. This arbitrary idea of what you thought you were and how people perceived you. It was difficult to unlearn an idea that felt very personal to you after years of mastering its art.
You’re still unsure of how to react but you’re so sure of how you feel.
“I like you. I-I want to try.” You wail.
He’s alarmed by the sudden change in tone from your end and at the way you tug at the collars of his shirt. Not aggressively, but a little desperate. Not in the way that’d make him scrunch his nose in distaste but in a way that told him that this was you being vulnerable. Being open.
He wipes at your cheeks with dried tears and looks at you so honestly that it scares you. But in a way, you were fearless because you were terrified of everything. Mostly of disappointing others who held you to such a high standard, but it was a valid fear regardless.
“I’m not some fragile woman that you need to fix and I want you to understand that,” You pull yourself together and tell him sternly. He listens because Yoongi has never been presumptuous.
“I’m my own person and I won’t change the way I act to be with you—and if you’re looking for a cute … dainty, soft girlfriend then…” You whisper, “That’s not me. I’m tough. I’m a bitch and I’m stubborn. Our arguments are going to suck because I have a response for literally everything so—!”
He shushes your rambling with a finger to your lips and a raised eyebrow. You pout at him under his finger and he finds you adorable. He decides to not say anything to preserve his head—but soon. He’ll tell you soon.
“Are you done?”
You huff under his finger but he looks at you fondly.
“I’m not one for normality. I don’t care about what you think I’m into because I know that I’m into you. I’m in this, ___. Stop thinking that I deserve some idealistic image of a woman that you have in your head. I want you, and I thought me coming here to speak to you about your feelings was a clear testament to that.”
You try to hide your blush but you fail.
“And stop being so conscious of how you act around me. Be tough. Be independent. But don’t be afraid to be cute and vulnerable too, okay? I like you in all ways that you decide to present yourself in. Just … trust me. Trust this.”
“Okay.” You nod.
He grins at you.
“Does that mean I can hold your hand on the way to work?” He teases.
You avoid his eyes and look to the side, but the slight curve of your lip gives your answer to that question away.
“I guess …” You mutter.
He hugs you closer and squeezes you until your feet leave the ground. He tackles you with kisses all over your face and you can’t help but giggle. You feel happy. You feel secure.
“Cutie.”
You deliver a smack to his chest but he just laughs.
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IF You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 5
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Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?
Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character,
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
March 2015
“You’ll see me two times in three weeks,” Victoria smiled, wine in hand as she settled in the seat beside Sonny. It was Tommy and Bella’s engagement party, which Gianni was treating as a bridal shower. The whole engagement would only have been three months, and it seemed the two younger Carisis had cost her the months of parties and planning Gina and Teresa had given her. At least Sonny and Victoria had gotten married in a church a year after they eloped. Tommy and Bella would be getting married outdoors, while she was pregnant. Everyone pretended not to notice the slightest bit of a bump, easily confused for weight gain if you didn’t know, when Gianna was around before fussing over Bella the minute she left.
“I’m a lucky bastard.”
“I hope you told your squad.”
“We’re all going out the Saturday before. I’m doing it then.”
“Really pushed it off, huh?” she asked, and he didn’t like the hurt she was trying to hide. 
“The cases got heavy during the holidays. And then we busted up a sex ring and I was undercover. That also felt like a weird time. I kinda realized there wasn’t going to be a good one.”
“Yeah. Tommy and Bella inviting them kinda twisted your arm, huh?”
“Yeah. But it’s good. The last step.”
“They all coming?”
“Olivia for sure. I think Rollins and Amaro are coming together, and then honestly? Barba will when he finds out there’s gossip. He’s kind of a dick, but an amazing attorney. I really wanna shadow him sometime, but I’m too green to ask, y’know?”
“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be nice when the time comes. And I think it’ll make Bella and Tommy happy. If it weren’t for them, it coulda been bad.”
“I got brother brain instead of cop brain, so yeah. I still can’t believe she’s having a baby.”
“It’s wild. And I know you don’t like Tommy, but he’s got a good heart.”
“And got locked up.”
“Everyone has their own problems.” 
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Same deal as Gina’s wedding? No marriage problems talk. Just have fun and be sentimental.”
“Deal. Though if your squad asks, I’m not ignoring it.”
“Fair. But also tell the cute stories.”
“I’ll bring the photo albums.” He laughed, arm settled around her shoulders. When they’d moved out, she’d taken to collecting all the pictures of them and adding them to a photo album. She’d gotten copies of dozens of pictures from his mom, who had always kept them organized by year in boxes. When she left, Victoria took them, and he missed being able to thumb through the pages. There were multiple volumes at this point. The pages got harder to find. She didn’t scrapbook. Instead, she used the pages with four slots each, keeping them up as time went on. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were pictures from Gina’s wedding in the most recent. Maybe there were even pictures of them separate from each other to bridge the gap. 
“Please don’t give Rollins and Barba that ammo. They’ll steal the really bad ones.”
“I like the ones from prom the best. Could we look any more 2004?”
“We looked damn good.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not super dated.”
“True. It’s okay. We got the pictures from Gina’s wedding. We don’t look like we’re separated in them.”
“True. You got the dimples on full display.”
“I seen the dresses Bella picked. I know you hate it. You won’t like this one so much.”
“I love it.” He raised a brow at the feigned enthusiasm. “Dom, that pink is gonna be so bad on a pale red head.”
“I like you in pink.”
“You like me in anything.”
“Because you look good in anything. Dark green’s my favorite though.”
“Mine too. Thank God for Gina. I’ll wear that dress again.”
“I’m sure I’ll have to go to some fundraising thing…”
“You asking me to be your date before you even know?”
“You’re always who I ask to be my date.”
“I better be. We’re married.”
“Gettin’ awful territorial, Mrs. Carisi.”
“You put your ring on your hand today.”
“And you put them both on the right finger.”
“It’s almost like we’re making progress.”
“I want to tell you. I’m ready. But not until after the wedding.”
“Why then?”
“In case you don’t look at me all happy anymore.”
“Literally nothing you could tell me could make me not want to work on it. Unless you cheated on me.”
“You’re the first, last, and only.”
“You are too.”
“We oughta stop being sappy. People are coming and we got put with people we don’t know.”
“Gross. It’s like ma is mad at me.”
“I’m just glad she knew better than to try and make us sit apart. I’m sittin’ with my wife.”
“You two aren’t even pretending to be awkward,” Bella teased, leaning to hug Victoria and then her brother. “This nonsense almost over?”
“Butt out,” Sonny warned, but he was still smiling. “Strictly married talk.” 
“Two weeks and ya can’t use that excuse.”
“Then it’ll be strictly talks with my wife.”
“Stop, Dom,” Victoria laughed. “You look beautiful, Bella. How you feeling?”
“Kid’s making me tired as hell. I’m excited though. Tommy talks to her every night. It’s been hard, after what that bitch did. But he’s doing so good.”
“I can tell. I’m just glad you’re so happy.”
“I really am, T.” 
“You look beautiful. I like this dress a lot.”
“Thanks. I like feeling all bridal.” Sonny was content to watch Bella and Victoria catch up. Over the last year, he’d come to realize every time they talked came around to when Victoria was taking him back. He probably hadn’t helped that any, constantly acting like he didn’t know why she’d gone. Thanksgiving had changed that. He stood up to his mom more, told her he was in therapy, and openly defended Victoria. The last part wasn’t new, but this time it was specific to her decision to leave. He’d told his family in no uncertain terms that, while he thought she should’ve told him earlier instead of letting the hurt fester, he had done something wrong and he was trying to fix that so they could start over. His mom and dad didn’t like that. Generationally, bottling up feelings was more acceptable to them. His sisters, on the other hand, hugged him tight and told him they were proud of him. 
Their table filled up quickly as guests arrived, and Sonny was happy to help Victoria keep conversation moving until his parents spoke. That was the plan for tonight. Appetizers, speeches from the bride and groom’s parents, dinner, dessert, and finally dancing and cocktails. It was quickly apparent all the family’s required-but-barely-liked invites went to the table they’d put Victoria and Sonny at, a sure sign Gianna was over dealing with their drama. He was thankful his sister wouldn’t be having assigned seating at the reception for anyone, the bridal party included, though the thought of having Victoria joining his squad at a table made him nervous.
“I thought they’d never go dance,” she said softly against his ear, and Sonny smiled more from the closeness than the sentiment. Damn, it felt good to have her on his team. She wasn’t there day in and out, so these events felt more valuable to him now.
“Right? He’s from dad’s work. Known each other forever. I don’t know why the hell they invited him.” Her hair tickled his cheek as they gossiped, watching the people around the room and nursing their drinks. He decided they didn’t have a heavy case, so he’d tell the squad the next day, that way the giddiness of the evening would still be fresh. When they’d both finished their drinks, he took her hand, pulling her towards the floor. 
“I was comfy,” she protested half heartedly before she realized he’d pulled her up for Sinatra. One hand on his shoulder and the other in his, she let him lead the few moves they’d learned in a ballroom class they’d taken. It had only been a couple years into their marriage, and they took it because it made them feel older and less like imposters. Now, all either could really remember was a boxstep, and their frame was terrible. That didn’t matter though. What did matter was Sonny resting his temple against hers to sing softly against her ear. When one swing tune melted into another, she was grateful Gianna had picked the music for this wedding event. 
“Looks like we get to dance all slow again,” he teased, giving her a spin before holding her close.
“For someone getting mad when we get along, your ma worked real hard for us to get along.”
“She’s just mad it isn’t like when we were kids. If we fought in middle school, she’d give us a pizza, and we’d be over it.”
“Very true,” she grinned, looking up at him. He looked handsome, and after what came out to two years of seeing him deteriorate, she was grateful he was actually getting back to himself. She wasn’t sure if therapy, the job, or the slow progress they were making was the reason, but he was her Sonny again. He kept his hair cropped, face shaved, and smile present.
“You’re staring,” he teased before tightening his grip to dip her. 
“You look good. Like not just handsome. Happy.”
“Thanks,” he smiled softly when he pulled her up again. “I’m learning to process stuff better.”
“That’s good.”
“It sounds messed up, but thank you for leaving. It made me go to therapy. I really wasn’t being good to you, Tor. And I’m sorry for that.”
“I forgive you, Dom. I wasn’t doing a good job talking to you about it. I’m sorry for not pressing until we hit the point of no return.”
“It’s okay,” he said, forehead resting on hers. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”
“Me too.”
“Can we get somebody to take pictures of us?” 
“Bella got a photographer, and he has definitely taken several.”
“This camera shy Sonny or detective Sonny noticing?”
“It’s Sonny seeing Gina tell him to.”
“You ever feel like the kids are trying to get us back together?”
“All the time, doll. You know how often Gina or Teresa go after me? Then Bella meddles. But Mia? She’s 17 and bound and determined she’s going to be the one to talk sense into me. And she kind of is. She actually talked to me about therapy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She doesn’t know why but knows my brain shuts down when I try to open up. Heard me tellin Teresa. Said it’s toxic masculinity makin’ me feel like talking about feelings is girly and I gotta get over that if I wanna stay married and making you happy.”
“I ever tell you Mia’s my favorite?”
“She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“How long until we can run away and go to a bar?”
“Anybody else left yet?”
“Your cousin Lauren and some of Bella’s friends.”
“What bar you thinking? Because you look too pretty to not take to some classy wine bar.”
“That works for me.”
“Then let’s go tell Bella and Tommy bye.”
“What about Gianna?”
“It’s not her engagement.” Victoria almost felt like they were back in high school and cutting class as they said their goodbyes and got their coats. Why the hell his sister was getting married outdoors in winter was beyond Victoria, but she was grateful for the fact they’d probably end up rained out and inside for the ceremony. Sonny hailed a cab, waving when he saw his mother watching them from a window. 
“She’s pissed, Dom.”
“Too bad. Taking you to a nice wine bar. Ordering a cheese board.”
“You’re making it sound like a date.”
“I been shit and ain’t taken you on one in two years. Can it be?”
“I’d like that.” She was nervous, but it had become apparent he was trying. From what he said, in a couple weeks he’d be willing to open up. He was also communicating with her as it was. Maybe treating the next two weeks as a trial run could be good. Ease into the heavy discussion. He’d mentioned being afraid how she’d react. Maybe if she was always there again, he’d realize she wasn’t leaving. 
“C’mon, whatcha thinking Tor?”
“Just that I’m happy we’re making progress,” she fibbed, lacing their fingers. He looked to their hands and smiled, squeezing her fingers gently. 
“Me too.” Soon enough they were settled at the bar, and Sonny, true to his word, had ordered a bottle of wine and a cheese board. She was turned to face him, legs carefully crossed. He had the leg towards the room on the footrest around the base of her stool. She was boxed in, but it felt reassuring when paired with his hand on her leg. 
“So what’s this new squad like?” Sonny had never quite settled in anywhere since he’d become a detective, and he seemed smitten with his spot in Manhattan. 
“So Barba is the ADA. Covered him. Liv is Lieutenant. Nobody ever really gave me a shot before. Apparently I can be abrasive.” He threw the hand not on her leg up in mock affront, and she laughed. 
“You? Never.”
“I know,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “Rollins is cool. She’s been through a lot. She’s from Georgia though. I know you mostly grew up here, but you get that same Southern catty as her. Means it doesn’t get to me, because I know the secret. That she doesn't really mean it. Amaro is cool too. Had some problems too. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I’m acting like they won’t understand or accept our marriage. Fin’s been there longest, other than Lieu.”
“They treating you well?”
“They are. I think I’m finally not just a newbie. Barba gets mean. He’s not southern snarky though, so I think he means it.”
“I’ll fight him.”
“You’d win. He’s got a big mouth, but I don’t think he’d be scrappy.”
“I’m just real proud of you.”
“That means a lot to me, Tor.”
“You worked real hard. I watched that. And you’re going to be an amazing attorney.”
“I think I wanna try for the DA’s office if I pass the bar next year.”
“You’ll pass the bar.”
He rolled his eyes, pouring her another glass of wine as he topped off his own. When the night was over, he walked her to her door, kissing her goodnight and going to his own apartment. Sonny had decided that if it was going to be a date, he’d be a gentleman. Things were still delicate, and he had to leave early when she had a day off. He did text her the next morning to say he’d enjoyed their date, not wanting to have the wedding be the next time they talked. When he arrived at the precinct, he went to Olivia’s door, knocking. 
“What’s going on, Carisi?”
“Since the squad’s coming to my sister’s weddin’ now, I felt like I gotta tell everybody I’m married and it’s really confusing.”
“Since you hadn’t mentioned it, I assumed you were getting a divorce.”
“You knew?”
“I did get sent your file when you started here. You know, I do read those.”
“I messed up bad, y’know? She’s a baker, right? And I’ve known her since I was five. Got married when we were eighteen. It was all good until I got to homicide.” Oliva gave him a sympathetic, knowing smile. “What I told you guys? How the women got to me? I was scared if I told her, I’d, like, tarnish her. Make her see all the bad stuff we see. It’s amazing talking to her, Lieu. She never stopped seeing the best in people. And I stopped acting like her husband because I thought just being close to me would transfer all of it. She left me, but we’re in a weird limbo. She’s in the wedding, and we act married when we see each other. This’ll only be the sixth time in a year and a half. But I don’t want her to meet everyone and they’re all like who the hell are you.”
“This job can make that part of life incredibly difficult, Carisi. I feel the same way sometimes about Noah. What if they take him? What if I’m so paranoid he grows up paranoid? Or god forbid he sees pictures? I try to refocus it. I think about how he can make light in those bad times. I don’t know much about her, but I’m guessing she does too?”
“She does.”
“Tell her, Carisi. If she knows something is wrong, she’ll be able to get through it.”
“I’m telling her after the wedding. My therapist said it might make it less stressful. I’ve been afraid she’ll change her mind when I tell her.”
“It’ll work out. It is a smart idea to make sure everyone knows. Barba’s coming with me, so I’ll make sure he knows and keep him in line.”
“Thanks Lieu. For this whole talk, but also giving me a shot.”
Tag List: @cycat4077 @fear-less-write-more
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misterbitches · 3 years
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i had the misfortune of finally watching/getting through what happened in whatever episode where he gets raped so im gonna talk about it and tag it cos that's what a bitch fuckin feels like, got it? i do what i want aint no limit bad ass bitch aint never been timid. woopsie realized i got the nicknames confused oh well lmao
it's just logistically and plot wise like there's literal plot holes in this and i'm taking the production and set-up into account along with the actual content and development. im an ARTIST OKAY im jk i mean i am and i am pretentious and terrible but look. i didnt get that degree and im not in a house worth of debt for nothing ok. it's called writing on tumblr about my grievances of shows that dont matter and do not respect me as a fat black american woman either so it is my fault yet here i am.
anyway it was worse than i imagined and their talk after (with chengren) was even worse. that's what i mean about making the lines their own (the actors) bc teng teng sounded like a straight up motherfucking moron and im like
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bECAUSE IT'S HIM EVEN THO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY U STUPID BITCH? but then it's like awwww and they also care about his wellbeing obviously??? but no? but it's like ok still teng teng said it even if it's stupid because he is a character and charles puts that forth. the people that fail the most to do that are xing si's family but that's not the actors fault because it's the literal material. you're like wait what but you just said...?
so i know they have no script editors i guess i think i find this season ACTUALLY fascinating because of just how egregious it is. i also went back and watched history: obsessed which i thought i liked because of their chemistry even though god the production....but i tried rewatching it and i was like wow this is worse than i remembered and the production issues were even worse because some of the music was SO LOUD AND BAD HOLY FUCK and their whole rship isssssss a sight to behold lmao
so man i guess it really is the power of anson/charles. which is good cos we love to see it...sort of but also a lot.
i honestly....because i've been able to pay attn more to the aftermath of the rape going back and putting it into more context and focusing (just barely lmao) is hm even worse. the inconsistencies are insane. it's not even just about the act but the writers have zero idea where they are going because they have no interest in exploring it. but the way in which it happens is like fascinating. yong jie literally thinks he owns xing si and it doesn't matter if he was kissing him or not or asked for a kiss on the lips (which dude what the fuck? i'll get to that) because he was plied with "extremely strong drinks" and his mom knew about it....which girl congrats you're an accomplice to the rape of your son by your other son?
but first of all...the kissing thing. in what fucking world would he (xing si) want that unless he thought he (yong jie) was someone else. i can't say their attraction is evident because we are being lead by this team to think so; they create this false sense of sensuality already so to me that signifies that they never intended for them to have a bond as brothers. it just feels cheap and fucking lazy (which it is.) even if he did, which doesn't make sense considering the context THEY CONSTRUCTED, it wouldn't matter because he was so fucking drunk which.... at that point nothing is fun, you feel sick, who wants sex like that? does he not have whiskey dick? did they have a condom? was it not painful for him considering? even if this was something to easily get over like was the dick good? it couldn't have been. and then, on top of that, there's the fact that you can change your mind or whatever but also that people do get aroused in these situations bc it is human nature (that's if they can literally get aroused which if the drinks were allegedly sooooo strong that nigga would be out so....again like even practically here it doesnt add up. have these people ever been drunk? if not, write what you know girl. cos sometimes it's like i think some of u r trying to be cool when u dont have 2 b lmao)
so yong jie coming on to him previously may be seen as like push-and-pull but here's the thing. right after it happens (the rape and it's rape so call it that you'll be okay) xing si gets up and goes home and is terrified and upset. he acts like what we have seen or even felt after a violation. he's scared, clutching his bag, it's like...you know...decently coming off as truly distressing (the actor isn't bad at all and i like that he's dark. i just massively hate this for him but hey at least he can show some chops.) like honestly man that fucking sucks and hurts to see. if we've been there we feel it. or part of it is realizing belatedly what happened. a lot of times that drop in your stomach is the worst.
but somehow for some reason, to which i cannot understand, the three of them begin to talk as if xing si pressured him? which maybe i missed something and that is possible—dont feel like going back to look—but that also made no sense. like what kind of false memory is this? why would he think he wasn't willing? and if he thought yong jie wasn't and that he pressured him how does he remember like...anything about the sex?!?!??!? besides waking up and being with him. like i guess he felt yong jie's MASSIVE DONG imprint but ??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!!!
god then the logic of the top/bottom thing is like i said i wasnt going to get into it but it's actually really funny. this whole thing was hilarious. honestly because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS. he could have totally raped him in that way but how did you get to this CONCLUSION FROM THAT??????? BY YOUR LOGIC THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS? IF HE IS THE BOTTOM AND PENETRATION IS THE ONLY FORM OF TRUE CONSUMMATION AND RAPE BECAUSE APPARENTLY, BASED ON ANATOMY, IF YOU HAVE A DICK IN UR BUTT UR A GIRL THEN HOW. DOES. THIS. MAKE. SENSE. AND THEN
AND THEN
AND THEN
AND THEN
this whole stupid conversation happens so we get to the conclusion that xing si violated him ok cool but that means that something is wrong. that is the CONCLUSION WE CAME TO A SECOND AGO?
also the other rapist is a villain and muren isn't in love with him so, once again, you're breaking the rules of your own world about acceptability which is why most of this is absolutely mind bogggglinG that iit's fuckign comical. like i actually when i can stomach it start laughing or my jaw is slack because it's so insulting as a viewer because there is like 0 logical followthrough.
because whatshisface barges in, kisses him in front of his friends without permission, then says whether you were willing or not which is hm. at that point how u gonna change that around but let's not bother with logic here. i am simply here to point out how this makes no sense according to the rules they set up even outside of the basic rule of life which is hm dont rape people maybe.
so now we know xing si was raped, they believe he was raped, he himself believes he was raped, and whatshisface literally says he doesn't care even if he was willing (he wasn't) so he admits to rape. i don't believe in the police and i hate them (BL industry needs the cops but dont get me down that road) but no one...thought to go?
because according to history 4 logic nothing matters so im sure if he went to the police you could handwave the homophobia since there's no actual context for anything besides their whimsy. but they dont want to do that because they aren't interested in an arc of growth; redemption isn't possible unless he is removed from the family but again no work on thinking this through or thinking about the victim's feelings. because gay sex? who fucking knows. supposedly progressive taiwanese writers of gay shit (like how supposedly progressive the world is. as in it is not and this behavior is the norm and bl perpetuates that) can't think of transformative justice?
and then they gave bad advice so we wont acknowledge that because teng teng doing anything wrong/stupid is frequent but hurts me and also that storyline is not real so i pretend they are not there outside of this post
so all of this is just straihgt up clownery now because it's fucking absurd like logically, practically, human-wise. the kissing thing is inconsequential but it was such a lazy cheap way out lmao cos they really wanted it to seem consensual but that's not how it works. on top of that their attraction makes no sense because whatshisface is just there. he is just there. he's nothing and no one so the sentiments are even more empty and on top of that he doesnt listen to a single request fucking obviously because the basis of their relationship is fucking rape so fucking listening and respecting his partner is not on his list of fucking priorities. he's literally so fucking annoying even without being a rapist it's like someone please beat his ass.
and then after all of that you want us to feel bad? with your horrible writing, poorly misplaced music, stupid costumes (those fucking SHOES THEY ARE HIDEOUS, AND MOST OF THIER CLOTHES DO NOT FIT IT'S LIKE WHY), questionable fucking editing. we're supposed to wnat them together? this sounds literally fucking crazy but bear with me lmao even with the rape they could at least have SOMETHING i mean like i cant believe im fucking saaying this. but like in addicted heroin which is fuckin tragic and awful at least there's a MODICUM of interest but honestly that show s a fucknig drag. idk they lookd good together? here we have 0. nothing. and it doesnt motivate. watching obsessed again i can see why i liked it in the beginning bc they have good chemistry but the acting and production adn like everything about it plus the rape-y vibes it's just too much. you need to pick one thing so if you're going to be a shit writer at least supplement it with something. this thing is nothing.
and even more nonsensical and what boggles my mind frankly out of all this is the mother's involvement and the father's final response. there are NO consequences? theyre all happy?
ok so lets go through this:
1. 2 boys grow up 2gether, one of the boys is fucking psycho, the mother knows but does nothing??????????????
2. one of the sons moves out so his father doesn't get a hint that's he's fucking gay. ok fine. he has 2 best friends, a job, an apt. he is fine.
3. aforementioned brother is obsessed with him for SOME REASON besides being crazy?
3.5 no one has done anything during him growing up to help him not be crazy?
4. mom says to husband who is their father also just in case we forget "im afraid he will lose his humanity"
4.5 again, do nothing. 0. just like oh man hes crazy. guess that's just our son ;)
4. who cares. plies him with alcohol purposefully to rape him. not even dubious (even though dubious is fucked and not okay or is just not. fucking real. these shows are contextless when they want to be or even movies or whatever so it's like largely not up to the task to understand complexity in human rships and then oversimplifies it constantly because that's what we do IRL. but people have fucking feelings you know and we realize when things don't feel good or right to us either very quickly after or having to process it. and once you're eyes are opened you may feel as something was fucking ripped away from you. for the modc couple this would be a very logical conclusion for the high schooler the thirty year old dated but again logic or feelings are up to their whimsy. no one cares bc everything can be counted as dubious so honestly it's a fucking stupid fucking topic like again why are we litigating what is and isnt consent when you could just like idk. read cues? consent? wait? not be a freak? like we all know what is proper human shit so even if we are watching this uncritically which u cant bc it's glaring and stupid it's just even more dumb) so it was honestly a rape plot like he literally planned it soooooooooo??!?!
5. aftermath of rape the victim is like literally fucking bereft and confused. and a rape victim. like that's what they are insinuating and what also he is to be clear.
6. boy tells him "idc if i raped u i luv u lmao"
7. mom ENCOURAGED THE BOY to get him drunk because her other son was too nice? she encouraged her adult son to rape her adult step-son (but her real son because she repeatedly says you are my son and the dad does too THEY GREW UP TOGETHER WHEN THE KID WAS IN AN IMPRESSIONABLE STATE) so THIS ALSO MAKES EVEN LESS MOTHERFUCKING SENSE
8. everyone finds out about his rape and he isnt mortified he's just concerned about himself being gay to his dad?????? except it's not really about his gayness bc now it's about his sudden love for his rapist brother? which? hm ok. understandable the dad is like wow i do not think i like this
9. dad knows all of it is fucked up, everyone does, knows the mother fucked up, knows he fucked up. doesnt like it because he is normal. so we know this is terrible? ok great so—
10. father says "i can't accept this...but i'm willing to give you my blessing" ok see here's the thing. when you write you have to think about the things you are putting on the page and what you have written previously. this quite literally made no sense how the fuck are you going to not accept them but give them your blessing? does this crew know what the fuck words are? i'm assuming they went to some sort of school to obtain jobs here bc there cannot be natural talent or experience. maybe most of them are rich. fuck i do not know but this also makes no sense. just the literal logic of it it's like fucking insane the whiplash.
10.5 apparently this father is also shitty. everyone here sucks and they are basically begging me to think xing si is a fucking idiot so i dont even want to look at him if he is an object he doesnt matter so now i want to kick him. thanks a lot you made the victim get absolutely fucking nothing
they KEEP PUSHING the brother thing it is so insane and it's liek GUYS WE GET IT WE UNDERSTAND THEYRE "RELATED" BUT NOT RELATED SO IT'S OK HE WAS "RAPED" BUT NOT RAPED but you're GOING BACK ON YOUR OWN RULES!!!!!!!!!! WE GET THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS!!! WE'RE OVER IT NOW BUT WHAT IS THIS WHEN WE ALREADY ESTABLISHED SOMETHING? I AM CONFUSION? they flip flop between my son, my brother my actual brother, and cannot fucking distinguish between love for your father and love for your romantic partner? so to me what i see is that the father wants to fuck the son. that's the conclusion i am garnering now considering nothing matters and his love for his "brother" is the same as his love for his dad lmao. they couldnt even do that in a way that made sense. like damn anybody can get anything. these ppl who are doing this have to be fucking rich and/or have connections.
also this guy sounds literally like a textbook abuser like he says constantly "im the best choice" is a rapist is awful holds capital (oh hees "saving" smh ur trapping her!!!!! RETIRE!!!!) also wears terrible shoes so i am like ur alllllllllLLLLL FUCKING CRAZY ur all literally crazy and then they are trying to set rules and boundaries in their fucking house like WHY ARE THEY LIVING TOGETHER EVEN? even tho oh my god they know he raped him and for some reason they are both allowing to live in the house but they dont want them to have sex??!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! i get that this is their house but this is like at this point these ppl are writing anything and now whatshisface is acting like a 2 yr old again and we are supposed to find this cute? like it makes 0 sense why do u fucking care u literally encouraged ur son to rape him so they cant have consensual sex under your nose now and have to wait four years? this is coming from the son who couldnt wait until someone was sober enough to realize hes fucking psychotic and should be killed also the fact that they act like being 20 means u have no fucking brain like this kid is in med school supposedly how do we know like hes a liar and an idiot so. also wait do they mean undergrad? how are you in med school at 20? is he a genius? girl i dont care lmao i guess i missed that but it's not like it matters so whatever
even if we ignore the stupidity of the literal acts, the grossness of the content, the absolute inability to write coherently or even remotely in a way where we would even want to see them together which is like....u set it up at the beginning so he punches "the love his life's best friend" also holy fuck im sorry remember when he punches muren because xing si got too drunk. so i'm guessing whatshisface is that good of a bartender that he makes super strong drinks and gets xing si drunk but his alcohol is magical therefore it doesn't make him sick. his alcohol is the type that gets you drunk but somehow doesnt get to your liver even though that's how we get drunk but dont ask guys he's only in med school and a bartender so i think he knows best (seriously have the main writers had a day of fun in their lives? have they ever been drunk? are they toddlers? drunk babies could probably do better tho.) i get that he was also jealous but if this kid is SOOOOOO genius (he understands social cues lmao he has the cpacity to project onto his victim so im like miss me with the not understanding shit. go to a fucking therapist like seriously did no one care abt this kid? his mother thinks he's like almost a goddamn murderer. how is she not dead? how are they all not dead? how do any of them know how to drive with this type of brain?) then he would understand that they are very clearly friends since he watched them part in a very platonic way and since he apparently knows what love is cos he thinks....he can....make someone fall in love with him bc he loves them? again, i wouldnt know hes 20 and taiwanese and im 29 and black from AMERICA so im WESTERN* so you know. different life experiences i guess XD
even if we do mental gymnastics to get it to a place where they "had sex" and he didnt rape him there's 0 ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ties to the literal story they wrote and the rules they set up. i'm going ot assume they dont know wtf theyre doing and i know for a fact we all care more about their dumb show than they do but it's actually startling how piss poor this is it's like idek what to compare it to. the continuity is awful awful awful they needed a script supervisor majorly and they are making bank and are going to make fucking bank fof this shit. and itll just continue like that until IRL material changes and that's facilitated by these very same groups they choose to profit off of and exploit by propelling it into the mainstream and litigating homosexuality through capitalism. and i'm being specific with homosexuality. i dont want a GL market like at all and i know why we wouldnt have it either and that has everything to do with the nature of BL, capitalism, coercion, and the fanbase being young girls and women. i don't think in this day and age we can safely say all the fans are straight; i'm sure a majority but many women or people on the gender spectrum and sexuality spectrum also consume it. frankly, it's possible the women who write it could be or something too. i dont rly believe any1 is str8 lmao but im just saying it's not out of the realm of possibility. but it isnt about that at all. that's why we wont see "good" female characters (like well written) often that's why we won't see trans women or kathoeys or fat people or black asians in it. a lot of it is is a choice we participate in whatever. but holy fuck dude u could at least respect the audience's fucking intelligence. i'm talking about everything i think that is encapsulated in the project but it's even more jarring and worse because it's so insanely inconsistent and poorly done. like how we jump from one conclusion to another is wild to me. even their first "night together" and he wakes up im like girl....u no ur ass felt it. this nigga broke into his house and was like "im gonna have u" like it's getting weird
just make xing si suffer offscreen not us the stupidity is staggering, mind blowing, hilarious.
how wong kar wai, a straight man from HK (or at least married to a woman), or barry jenkins, a striahgt black man, write/do stories well about people they wouldnt knw about their experiences directly is....well thinking like using their brains and like knowing all types of people? the man who co-wrote moonlight is a hOMOSEXUAL, leslie cheung was fucking gay or queer (and he committed suicide and that's important also RIP homie) both are hailed as queer cinema like WKW wanted to do something else and invested time into it, changed the way he played around with structure, moved away from his crime oriented stuff. he THOUGHT about it and this film is about their reality. it's a harsh film, idk how i feel about it (but my fav movies of his are the crime ones or the messy ones where it's clear he didnt write a script lmao fallen angels is one of my fav movies its' abt assassins kinda) but i know it means something. and he didnt like what HK had previously wasnt enough. it is not the only cinema that should be shown since it's such a stark reality and depressing but it is a real depiction so we can have all sorts of stuff. no this isnt WKW level or moonlight level but i know for a fact these people think they are doing something because artists always do i say this as one and someone who is equally as useless. you're making a statement.
i also hate the westerner component of peoples analyses. first of all dont do cultural relativism. we can critique and respect. but second of all how are we going to keep saying "dont put western ideals on this" when that is what is happening anyway because that's part and parcel for soft power and capitalism. how about taiwan's history with the KMT? what about the regimes young people fought about? aided by US imperialism which permeates through society and affects material conditions, views, democracy, identity and that goes into culture and media. hm? what about that? is that reality too fucking western for people? that we are doing the same thing again now? is that okay to talk about or is that only on your time?
then there's the argument that this is just entertainment. yea no shit but the thing is if we r gonna talk about marginalized groups and watch bc of marginalized groups and then be expected to identify then i dont see why i cant put this in context. even if it wasnt fucking serious we'd still judge it. but it's so pompous and again like i wouldnt say EYE think it's art but it is "art" in the literal sense and no self respecting artist would ever go "man this means nothing." of course im not sure if they do respect themselves so hey but u cant just go oh man it's entertainment when it literally rests on the fact that HOMOS are MARGINALIZED. it literally rests on the fact that WOMEN ARE OBJECTS. you either want progress or you dont. i dont understand being so demanding but not beign specific in the demands and not trying to use your brain. if you dont want to use your brain don't. but if you are looking , engaging, and keep making these arguments or telling ppl it doesnt matter whilst complaining about how much others care is hypocritical at best, willfully obtuse at worst. both bad. :)
(also all this + another thing; it is insulting to have this like wedding happen based off of this stupid relationship when people fought so hard and had to push it. now they can use the material conditions to their advantage but it's so ridiculous. also because there is difficulty still in getting married in taiwan i'm honestly like....the boldness of the writers...)
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hermannsthumb · 4 years
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So I know you don't really write PRU things but how about PRU averting? Like when Newt starts to realize something is wrong he goes to Hermann for help?
this isn’t exactly what you wanted (at all) but the concept for this fic has been making me laugh all week. sometimes a bitch just wants to write a slightly unhinged jealous ex hermann unknowingly seducing aliens out of newt
safe for work except for some makeouts and implied past banging, but hermann tries very hard for it to not be. also ive definitely written similar plots before but who cares
—————
They send a ranger-in-training to break the news to Hermann. He’s not sure what they expected him to do, really, or how a teenager in oversized khakis might have prevented it in the first place. Rage? Cry? Break things? His relationship with Newton Geiszler has been highly publicized at this point, he supposes, down to every last gory detail; their scientific rivalry, their heated laboratory debates, their–er–rather dramatic love affair, which ended on a deeply sour note when Newton packed his bags and left Hermann for better funding and a swanky flat with more windows than walls seven years ago. As far as gossip is concerned, that is.
“Tomorrow?” Hermann says.
The ranger nods and says nothing. She’s awfully young–too young, Hermann thinks. And awfully afraid of him. Right, of course: he’s crotchety, daft old Dr. Gottlieb, notorious for his short temper and avoidance of socialization at all costs. He furrows his brow an appropriate amount and nods, as if to appear deeply consternated, or perhaps lost in brooding abstraction. “I see,” he says. “Hm. That wretched Dr. Geiszler, here, after so many years. The nerve of him. Thank you.”
The girl doesn’t move.
“Ah,” Hermann says. “Dismissed, I mean.”
Between the bare bones staff and Hermann’s incredibly low rank back in Hong Kong, he still hasn’t quite gotten used to the notion that he has things like interns and underlings again, let alone people who–when sent to deliver him a message, or paperwork, or lab equipment he submitted forms for–need to be explicitly dismissed to leave his presence. Newton would love it. Or, at the very least, he’d love teasing Hermann for it. (Control freak, that was what he’d call Hermann.) 
Back in the safety and solitude of his private laboratory, Hermann brews a fresh pot of tea and mulls the news over. It’ll hardly be the first time Newton’s set foot at the Moyulan Shatterdome. It’ll hardly be the first time Hermann will have seen Newton since the Events of seven years ago, either. It will, however, be the first occasion on which the two collide: Newton always seems to schedule his routine Moyulan visits when Hermann is tucked safely away in some conference or council in some other bloody country, leaving their paths to cross at the most inane social events, banquets and fundraisers and black tie occasions that leave Hermann stifling under his collar and his leg aching from the strain of standing for so long. 
Their words to each other in such situations have always been terse, brief, polite. Newton, after all, is a very important (and very rich) man these days, and he has plenty of elbows to bump and high society buggers to flatter without Hermann getting in his way. It’s pleasantries, is all. Lovely to see you, Dr. Geiszler. How’s work, Dr. Geiszler? The champagne is excellent, isn’t it, Dr. Geiszler? By Jove, it’s maddening. Just once Hermann would like to shout and snap at him like the good old days, to grab hold of that stupid bloody tie and shove him against a wall and kiss him, or bite him, or do anything that isn’t smile and pretend to care when he mentions that–that Alice floozy he’s shacking up with. And now, with Newton finally giving Hermann a window to meet in his own territory…
Hermann keeps a small volume of Newton’s early research on his desk–compiled long before he even knew the man–and he takes it out now, slipping a well-worn polaroid out from between its pages and propping it against his tea mug. Newton smiles out at him. “Horrible little man,” Hermann says, lovingly, and gently brushes his index finger against that handsome face.
He feigns a stomach bug to clock out of work early–fooling no one, of course, but his staff chalks it up sympathetically to the prospect of seeing his notorious ex tomorrow and says nothing–and makes a mad dash into town for a haircut and manicure. After some consideration, he pops into a clothing store for a new button-down, too. A nice one. One that fits him well. (You have a hot bod, dude, Newton would always say, you should be flaunting it. 
No, no raging, or crying, or breaking things. It’s been seven years since Newton walked out on Hermann for a cushy job and designer suits, and Hermann has exactly one course of action in mind: winning him back.
——
Newton is not exactly as Hermann remembered. The changes in him are noticeable, and–for the most part, barring the loss of his glasses and personal sense of style–Hermann feels entirely neutral about them: hair more neatly tamed, stubble more neatly shaved, body ever-so-slightly more toned. Hermann seems to recall Newton saying something about CrossFit or some sort of damned exercise bike he bought at the last banquet they attended–lost ten pounds this past month! New Year’s Resolution, you know, ha, gotta stay in shape for Alice (and this was the point at which Hermann clenched his champagne flute so tightly it burst, and he excused himself to find a napkin with which to tend to his bleeding and a tall glass of whiskey from the open bar with which to tend to his agonies). Whatever it is, it seems to be working.
He manages to lure Newton out from under the thumb of his boss with vague claims of research, though Newton is not happy about it. “I got shit to do, man,” he complains. His eyes are inscrutable behind his expensive sunglasses. “It’s just not a good time. Busy, busy, busy, you know.”
They’ll have the laboratory to themselves, even more so than usual. I’ll need to have a few private words with Dr. Geiszler, Hermann had ominously announced to his staff that morning, and they’d all looked at each other in excitement. An infamous Geiszler-Gottlieb row! Hermann locks the door behind them.
“You poor dear,” Hermann says. “Running yourself ragged. You must be exhausted.”
Newton shrugs. “I am a little. I guess.” He shrugs again, and this time preens a little with it. Good: Hermann wants him nice and flattered. “It’s hard work being as important as I am, you know.”
“I imagine,” Hermann coos sympathetically. He brushes his hand across Newton’s shoulders, then nudges him at the small of his back towards his desk. “Please, Newt, I insist you have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”
“I mean, if you’re offering,” Newton says, waving him off.
The instant coffee is located on the middle shelf of Hermann’s bookcase, between a dusty variety box of Twinings and an elaborate kaiju action figure Newton left in their apartment when he walked out. Hermann spoons some into a chipped blue mug and watches Newton through the man’s reflection on the kettle. He leans back in Hermann’s desk chair; he rolls his shoulders; he pops open a button on his maroon suit coat; he spies something propped up on Hermann’s desk, and picks it up. The polaroid. Hermann ducks his head to hide his smile.
“Good times, huh, dude?” Newton says. He waves it in the air.
“Mm,” Hermann says. 
He hands the mug of coffee over to Newton, who’s yet to put down the polaroid. Milk and plenty of sugar. Exactly the way Newton always used to take it. “There we are, dear,” he says. “Are you hungry? Might I get you anything to eat? I’ve plenty of biscuits, and, er...” He casts a guilty glance around the mess of his workspace. “...Oranges.”
“No thanks,” Newton says, but it’s vague, unconvincing. His eyes are locked on the photograph. “Good times,” he repeats. 
“Nothing to eat at all?” Hermann says.
Newton shakes himself. “Nah,” he says, and pats his stomach. “On a diet. You know, for Alice.”
Ah, of course; Alice. The mystery woman Hermann despises the very existence of. For years after Newton first broke the news to Hermann he was seeing someone new, Hermann used to pour over magazine articles and gossip sites for even a glimpse of what she might look like (and for the chance to do something cathartic, like crop her angrily from a photograph with Newton or scribble over her face with a Sharpie). Probably horrendously ugly; possibly blonde; undoubtedly lacking taste, and humor, and any other sorts of qualities a mate worthy of Newton ought to possess. At the very least, Hermann knows she isn’t at all supportive of Newton in the way she should be. Every banquet and fundraiser, she’s too busy to come, every dinner invitation Hermann finally accepts so he may properly hate the woman, she must cancel at the very last minute due to some strange illness or another. 
Privately, Hermann thinks she feels threatened by him. As she should be. He and Newton have been in each other’s heads, after all, wrote letters in their youth, shared a laboratory for years, shared a bed for longer than that. It’s a simple fact one will ever know Newton like Hermann knows him.
“Of course,” Hermann says, with icy kindness. “For Alice. How is she these days? I was ever so put out when she caught–what was it–influenza, yes, that night we were meant to dine together. And the time before that, with pneumonia. And laryngitis before that. Terrific bloody coincidences, aren’t they.”
(Sorry, dude, Newton said over the phone, not sounding very sorry, but rather quite distracted. She was probably in the room, egging on his lies. She's sick. Can’t see you after all. Rain check?)
“Yeah,” Newton says. He’s started to shake his leg up and down, a nervous tic Hermann is all too aware of, seeing as he’s picked it up himself after their drift. Along with an annoying tendency to hoard sentimental rubbish. “Coincidences. If I’m being honest, Hermann–I’m not too keen on you two–well.” A strange look crosses his face, replaced in a blink of an eye with a toothy smile. “Old flame and the new flame, it’d be awkward for everyone, y’know?”
“Especially for her, I’d imagine,” Hermann says, and then he swings himself down into Newton’s lap.
Newton goes very still; the photograph slips from his fingers and flutters to the floor. “Hermann?” he squeaks.
Dropping his cane, Hermann nuzzles his face into the crook of Newton’s neck and breathes deeply; the Newton of his memories smells of burnt coffee and the sharp tang of preservation chemicals, but the Newton of now smells more of expensive cologne than anything else. Hermann can’t say he likes it much, but he presses a small kiss there anyway, marveling at the lack of the scratchy stubble he remembers so well. “What–what are you doing?” Newton says.
Another kiss. Hermann slips a hand up to caress Newton’s jaw, and Newton shivers. “I should think it’s obvious,” Hermann says. “Mm. Come on, now, love, I know I can’t be the only one of us who’s been aching for this.”
“It’s,” Newton stammers, “I,” and his sturdy fingers grip Hermann’s waist, though he makes no move to shove him away. In fact, he only draws him closer. Marvelous. “I’ve got–someone, dude,” he says, gazing at Hermann between heavy eyelids. “Alice. I have–”
Hermann kisses him, pouring into it every ounce of longing he’s felt for the last seven years, and Newton melts against him with a moan. “But does she make you feel the way I do?” Hermann murmurs. 
“Uh,” Newton says.
He swipes his tongue into Newton’s mouth, enjoying the sharp jolt that shoots through Newton when he brushes against his own tongue, and pulls back with a small bite at his bottom lip. Newton always liked when Hermann kissed him messily. “Do feel free to touch me,” he says.
Newton does: one hand leaves Hermann’s waist and inches up his side instead, pausing to shove one half of his lab coat off, then the other. The coat slips to the floor as well. Newton splays five fingers over Hermann’s right pectoral. “Nice shirt,” he says, sounding rather dazed. “Good color on you.”
“I’d hoped you like it,” Hermann says happily. “Remember what you always used to say, about flaunting it? I thought it was time I’d take your advice.”
“I do,” Newton says. “I do remember. Ha.” His face splits into a grin, one of the first truly Newton-esque ones Hermann’s seen on him in years, and Hermann feels a small flare of triumph. He catches the hand at his chest and draws it to his mouth, brushing a kiss over the knuckles. Newton’s tattoos, vibrant as ever, poke out from beneath one maroon sleeve.
Hermann remembers kissing those tattoos. He remembers tracing the shape of red-yellow waves with his fingertips, of pinching the eyes of the great kaiju splashed across his chest, of teasing Newton for his rather unadorned arse and how pale it was in comparison to the rest of him. You’re one to talk, buddy, Newton would say, and he’d deliver a playful smack to Hermann’s, all skin and bones, dude, I think I bruised my hand. He used to like to keep his glasses on in bed so he could see Hermann. Make sure it’s actually happening, he’d say. His sunglasses are folded uselessly on Hermann’s desk. “I could make you so loud,” Hermann says. “We’d get noise complaints. Remember?”
Newton nods, eyes fixed on the knuckles Hermann kissed.
“I knew exactly where to touch you,” Hermann says, dropping his voice, “and how to touch you. I still do, Newton.” Newton dissolves into whimpers when his neck is kissed, a certain spot by his left thigh pressed on with a thumb; when being made love to, he likes his sides stroked, fingers pressed against his tongue; when doing the love making, he likes his hair pulled, nails raked across his back.
“Please,” Newton says, his voice cracking. “Can you–?”
Hermann shoves that ugly maroon jacket to the floor, then winds that ugly tie around his fingers and gives Newton a sharp tug. Newton moans, twice as loud as before. “Yes, darling, of course.”
They kiss, Hermann making quick work of the buttons of Newton’s shirt, Newton seemingly too shy to do anything beyond grip Hermann’s shoulders. A pink blush is spreading from the tips of his cheeks down to his neck. It’s very sweet. “Hermann,” he says.
“Mm?”
Newton wets his lips. “You like when I do this,” he says, and gives Hermann’s ear a little tug.
(They’re so big, Newton would say, it’s adorable, you’re adorable, and Hermann would swat him away, but then Newton would kiss the shell of his ear, bite his earlobe, and Hermann would gasp, and sensitive! Newton would say, adorable, absolutely adorable.)
“They’re sensitive,” Newton says. “You like when I kiss them.” He grins again, though it slips away after a moment. “I think they’ll be looking for me soon.”
“You are so terribly important, after all,” Hermann says. “It’s a very good thing I’ve locked the door. I haven’t finished having my wicked way with you yet.”
This time, Newton laughs, though it’s an uncertain little thing. “Listen,” he says, strangely urgent, and he squeezes Hermann’s arm. “Don’t let me leave, okay?” Then he shakes his head. “Actually, no. Take me home with you. Away from–from work. And Alice. Yeah. Let’s go now.”
This is unexpected, though Hermann cannot deny it’s not exactly what he hoped would happen when his foolproof plan of seduction worked. He’s suddenly very pleased he made a few more stops after picking up his new shirt: first for a very expensive bottle of wine and the makings of a dinner the Newton of ten years ago loved, the next a rather discreet one for the sort of supplies they’d need to, er, take this one step further. “Oh, yes,” Hermann says. “Oh, darling, absolutely. Er–now now?”
“Now,” Newton says. He plants a series of discoordinated, rapid-fire kisses across Hermann’s mouth and chin. “Now,” he repeats. “Keep talking to me.”
“About what?” Hermann says, frowning.
“Anything,” Newton says. “And touch me. Keep touching me. Hermann–when we get there, I have to tell you–”
“Alright, Newton, alright,” Hermann says. He did forget how needy Newton could get. He’s also missed it. He strokes back some of Newton’s neat hair, gropes around for his cane, and eases himself to his feet with a small groan. (He’s not quite as young or agile as he used to be.) Newton immediately springs to his own feet and latches onto Hermann’s arm. He's not merely needy tonight--a bit on edge, too, it seems. “Off we are, then. Be a dear and get my coat for me.”
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salty-cs · 3 years
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Hey there. Before I begin I will explicitly state: you have the right to not forgive nor like anyone. That is your own choice of who you interact with and I am in no way attempting to invalidate this. Your opinion is yours.
Yes, I am friends with Dat and Cambion. That is not something I'm ashamed of. Is that something that deserves hate? Who knows, that's your choice. You have every right to not wanna interact with me because of it.
Neither of them have brought me harm in any shape or form. Nor do I condone a majority of their past actions and I already told them that I don't. It also is not my duty to forgive their actions either. But via my own experience, we have a pretty solid friendship that is very much going well. 
Also, neither of them acted with harmful intent ever. I feel that is important to mention.
I am a strong believer and am rather optimistic that people can change (except extremely harmful and illegal actions with bad intent. You know what I mean). Everyone makes mistakes, especially when they're this young. Does age excuse actions? No, it doesn't. But the adults in Dat's situation are also at fault and let us not pretend they are not. I infer it was a collective clusterfuck and an overall bad experience for both parties (yet again, this is my own interpretation). They have every right to not like Dat and Dat has every right to not like them.
However, I must condemn everything that is currently happening. Let's not act like insulting others is a good thing to do.
No matter where you stand, insulting people is not right. Privately, do what you will I suppose. But going out of your way to click through tabs just to say something mean is more of a reflection on your own character than the one you're insulting. Being mean isn't okay. Nobody died, nobody got assaulted. Toxic friendships suck and they happen. Block and move on.
Going onto a salt blog where you know people agree with your negative sentiments only creates a toxic atmosphere and frankly it becomes a bullying brigade. Surely the one being targeted can just "not come on and see it", but let's not pretend that that excuses the fact people are blatantly insulting others. You know you saying stuff will get attention and you know it will ruin someone's mental health and reputation. It's purposeful and malicious. This isn’t salt, this is harassment.
Let us think critically together. Regardless of whether I've done anything wrong or not, is someone calling me annoying out of nowhere valid and okay to post without much of an explanation? So if I'm just casually checking the blog, completely ignorant of the fact someone had posted about me, is it my fault that it made me upset even though I'm the one being called names? No. You cannot justify that.
I'm not attempting to say that venting is wrong--that's not true. It is perfectly okay. I just strongly believe that if you're going to do it, do so with friends, not the internet. Ask questions instead of forcing opinions. Get information and learn instead of bandwagoning. Seeking public validation is understandable, but please realize your words have weight...especially when you're a popular oekaki artist.
We're not big celebrities here...this is a pets site in a small corner of the internet. Criticism and skepticism are understandable responses; calling others names and saying they'll never have friends in life is immature. Don't act like you have the moral high ground when you're so enthralled in internet drama that you publicly celebrate someone quitting and then get upset when they retaliate. You must be aiming for a reaction, what else could make you say the stuff you do?
Now I'm speaking generally but if you're offended then I guess you know it's about you. Harassment is never justified. You don't have to like anyone here, but your mouth is a weapon.
To continually insult someone who you are aware has a horrible mental state and is suicidal is incredibly irresponsible. You are part of the problem. You can hate Dat, but you really have to let go and move on and stop being toxic yourself. That's what Dat wants to do and has stated. Make that active choice. Both of them already apologized countless times before and we all know another apology isn't going to change some of y'all's minds. And that's okay at the end of the day, because that's not my or their job nor responsibility. You have to think for yourself and make those decisions on your own. 
Both of them have grown so much and I am very proud of them. I am not excusing them from what they've done, but they are most certainly not pedophiles nor monsters. Please think critically about the fact you do not know everything about either situation. Sometimes people do shitty things, and I say this towards both sides of the argument, and it's best to let the friendship die instead of prolonging the hurt. 
Everyone should aim to educate instead of ridicule. You may remain judgmental and skeptical, but how is calling someone a bitch or something or other, remotely helpful to the situation? It only makes it worse. Someone not understanding a term does not mean they're invalidating said term. Educate them. Provide resources and information. It's not difficult. 
Now I've said more than I probably should've for being a complete nobody. Sit back, relax with your favorite drink, close your web browser, and realize there's so many better things to do than be a part of an online drama. Now have a fantastic evening. I'm surely going to rest well so I hope you do too.
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viktorrotkiv · 3 years
Text
Every Single Flavor of Feeling
Hey @impossiblyizzy ​, here is my gift to you for the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2021 Fic Exchange.
I picked the prompt “A coffee shop AU revolving around the impending closing of the coffee shop - can include a ship if you want but I’m always happy just seeing the squad as friends!” I played around with the prompt slightly, really hope you don’t mind <3
Rating: G
Words: 2.6k
Read on AO3
Jake crossed the street towards the coffee shop, a piece of paper in his hands, looking glum. Gina watched him from behind the counter, polishing mugs in preparation for the shop opening in forty minutes.
Jake was late, as usual. They were both supposed to be there an hour before opening time. But as he pushed the door open, sending the bell dinging, he looked too sad to reprimand. “Hey, G.”
“Hey, Jake.” Gina warily put the mug down. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Jake looked around the shop helplessly, his gaze blank. “Um, what do you need me to do?”
Gina decided not to push him. Jake always talked eventually. “You can turn everything on.”
Jake lumbered around the shop, preheating the ovens for the frozen pastries they made each morning, turning on the coffee machines and the milk frother, setting up the AC.
*
Forty-five minutes later, Gina and Jake shared their mandatory start-of-work cinnamon bun. Stuffing the last sticky bite into his mouth, Jake seemed somewhat cheered up.
“So…” Gina picked at her half of the pastry, savoring it. “Are you going to tell me what that is?” She pointed at the paper Jake had been holding, just visible over the side of his bag.
Jake took a big breath. “Yeah, I guess I should. I, uh…”
The bell dinged again, signaling the first customer’s arrival.
“Later, then. I promise.” Jake put on his cheerful customer face and manned the register.
*
At the end of every shift they had together, Jake and Gina tossed a coin to decide who would do the good part of cleanup and who got the bad parts. Mopping the floors and wiping the table was of course on the good list, since you could pretend the mop was a microphone and dance around. Cleaning the ovens and coffee machines was bad, since you had to crouch and sometimes your clothes got dirty.
Today, Gina was slightly happy that she got the bad chores. Two minutes sliding around on the wet floors and Jake’s mood would be improved. By the time he got to the tables, he would talk.
“G.” She was right. Jake cleared his throat before continuing. “I have some news. I, uh, I passed the last of the tests. I graduate from the police academy next week.”
Gina straightened up so fast that she banged her head against the oven’s ceiling, but she was so excited she could hardly feel it. “That’s amazing! Jake! Why have you been moping around all day?”
Jake had his back to her, so she couldn’t see his face, but she could hear his voice breaking. “It’s just… It’s the first thing we’re not doing together since… since gym classes were separated into boys and girls in middle school. Remember how devastated we were? And this is so much bigger.” He sniffled. “G, we’ve done everything together. Elementary school, middle school, high school, now this job. I went through the police academy alone, but I still saw you here all the time. What am I supposed to do without you?” He finally turned to look at her, eyes wet.
Gina dropped everything she was holding and ran to hug Jake, banging her ribs against the counter in her urgency. “Jakey, who knew you were so sweet and sentimental?”
“Ew. No. No, Gina, get off of me. You’re covered in oven gunk! Gina!” Jake leaped back and crashed into a table. Rubbing his lower back, he glowered at Gina, but he couldn’t stay mad at her for long.
Gina took a step back and adopted a rare serious expression. “You’ll be fine. You’re one of the smartest, bravest, best people I know.” Her gaze turned mischievous. “And I know a lot of people. Because actually the first thing we didn’t do together was me being popular in high school, and you weren’t. And you got through that.”
“Hey! Not nice.” Jake punched her shoulder half-heartedly, but he was clearly touched. “Thanks, Gina. But it’s still going to be sad leaving you.”
“I got an idea.”
“Why do you have an extra evil spark of joy in your eyes?”
“We are going to pull the best, grandest, most fuck-with-their-minds pranks you have ever seen before you leave.”
Jake’s eyes lit up with a similar passion. “Let’s brainstorm most prank-able coworkers.”
*
The first prank didn’t go as planned.
Gina kicked Jake behind the counter. “Here he comes,” she hissed.
“Yes, Gina, I can see that. I am also facing the door.” Jake turned back towards the entrance. “Hey, Mike! I just made us some coffee before the customers start coming in. Do you want anything?”
Mike was a little bit confused, but not enough to raise suspicion. Sure, Gina and Jake mostly only spoke to each other, but they were nice enough when they needed to talk to him. “Um, yeah, thanks. I’ll just take a cappuccino.”
“Cool. Cool cool cool. Um, unrelated, can you please go tidy the back room?”
With Mike definitively out of sight, Jake proceeded to pour a shot of every single flavor in the shop into his cup. “Gina, he’s not allergic to anything, right?”
“Who cares?”
“Gina!”
“Fine, yeah, I looked at his personnel file. He’s not allergic to anything. Ooh, but I heard him say he hates blueberries, pump in a bunch of that.”
Jake finished making the coffee and went to find Mike in the back room. “Here, this is yours.”
“Thanks, Jake.” Mike sipped. “Mm. I love having coffee this early in the morning.”
“Notice anything… special?” Jake glanced back at Gina, who shrugged.
“No. Not really. It’s really good.”
“Oh. That’s, uh, great. I was worried because the… uh… milk is almost expired. Glad to hear that it’s not.” Jake backed out of the room slowly and looked at Gina, bewildered.
Gina whispered, “What did you do?”
“Nothing! It had every single possible flavor in the shop! It should taste gross! Way too sweet and completely mismatched.” Jake glanced towards the back room. “We’ve gotta taste that.”
Gina nodded. “Hey, Mike, can you help me with the oven?” She glanced at Jake and waved her hand at him. “Scram!”
Mike emerged from the back room, holding his coffee. “Sure. What do you need?”
“These trays are too heavy for me to put in by myself. Here, take this side.”
“Sure.” Mike placed his coffee on the counter and bent down to help Gina. He didn’t notice Jake sneaking back in from the bathroom and picking up his coffee. Jake sniffed it, shrugged, and took a sip. His look of surprise almost made Gina drop her side of the tray.
“Thanks, Mike.”
“Sure thing, Gina. Oh, Jake, you almost gave me a heart attack. Didn’t see you there.” Mike picked up the coffee and walked away.
Gina motioned for Jake to come closer. “So?”
“It was so disappointing. All the flavors cancel each other out and it just tastes like regular coffee.”
Gina started giggling, which soon turned into full-on stomach-hurting, tear-bringing laughter. “I mean, that wasn’t the plan at all, but you’ve gotta admit that’s kind of hilarious.”
Jake started laughing too, mostly at Gina’s amusement. “I guess. “But, oh, I was so looking forward to seeing his face when he took that first disgusting sip…”
*
The second prank was much more successful.
A few days later, in the middle of a shift, Gina pulled Jake aside. “I have our next idea. So, you know how Tina is always talking about how she can’t live without caffeine, but every Thursday she makes herself a decaf at the end of her shift.”
“Of course I know! It’s the biggest mystery ever. I’ve been dying to ask her for months, but she’s such a bitch.”
“Well, I figured it out.” Gina smiled very smugly. “Every Thursday, her boyfriend asks her to hang out with his boring friends. And she tells him she’s too tired from work. And since she doesn’t get her outrageous amount of caffeine on Thursdays, she falls asleep on the couch, and he has no choice but to let her stay home.”
“Hold on, how do you know all of this?”
“Yesterday she complained to me about how her boyfriend only does boring things, and then she made me follow her puppy’s Instagram account. Her boyfriend comments on almost every post, and since he’s insanely hot, I started following him. Every Thursday he posts a super embarrassing picture of her drooling on the couch, captioned something sappy like ‘my adorable girlfriend works so hard!’, and an hour later—”
“Aww, that’s actually sweet.”
“It’s disgusting, Jake. Anyway, around an hour later he always starts posting pictures with his friends at the least Tina-like places ever. Sports bars, bowling alleys, restaurants that only serve fried chicken, no wonder she never wants to go out with him.”
Jake’s eyes lit up with understanding. “So tomorrow…”
“We’re going to graciously offer to make her coffee.”
“And not use decaf.”
“And she won’t fall asleep embarrassingly early for a grown woman.”
“And then she won’t have any excuse not to hang out with her super boring boyfriend.”
“You got it, Jake!”
“You’re a genius, Gina.”
*
“You okay, Tina?” Jake was behind the counter, and his coworker was clearly getting ready to leave.
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. I was just going to make myself a coffee and, uh... leave.” She wasn’t really sure why Jake was talking to her.
“Oh, I could make it for you. I’m already on coffee duty.”
“Really?” Tina smiled absentmindedly. “Um, yeah, thanks. Decaf.”
“I know.” Jake turned to Gina, who was restocking the pastry display, and gave her a ridiculously exaggerated wink. She shot him a look that clearly meant, ‘Calm the fuck down.’
Tina was thankfully distracted on her phone, and Jake made her coffee with no hitches, sending her on her way with a cheerful “Good day!” and getting a confused and slightly snarky look in return, as if she had somehow tricked him into making her a drink.
“Now we wait.”
“Woah, G, don’t sneak up on me like that. But yes. Now we cross our fingers and wait.”
*
“Jake!” The next morning, Gina burst into the shop waving her phone excitedly. “Jake, it worked! Look!”
She held her phone uncomfortably close to Jake’s face, but he could clearly make out a picture of a group of guys at a dark and sticky bar, all smiling goofy grins and drinking the most boring beer brands. And, smack dab in the middle of the group, Tina, grimacing.
“It worked!” Jake’s eyes lit up.
“I know! That’s what I said. And guess what! She just called me and said she was going to be late and asked if I could cover for her– because she has a massive hangover. She started telling me how you must be too dumb to find the decaf coffee because she had clearly asked for it. It was hilarious.”
Jake grinned. “Well, I can stand being called stupid by Tina, of all people. Especially since I’ll be gone soon.” He seemed to realize what he had just said and drooped slightly.
“We’re in denial, Jake. Denial. Now go back to work.”
*
The third and final prank was the most preposterous, and arguably the meanest.
A week before Jake was supposed to leave, he and Gina noticed that one of their coworkers, Brian, only had shifts with either one or both of them for the entire week.
“We’re going to pretend we don’t know him. At all. Be confused when he comes in, be baffled when he goes behind the counter. Eventually concede and let him help out, but don’t acknowledge that he’s always worked here.”
“Gina, that’s insane.” Jake was seriously worried about whatever hellscape Gina was going to put their coworkers through when he left.
“Fine. Then we’ll just convince him everyone else was fired and it’s going to be the three of us from now on.”
Jake considered this. “Okay. But if he threatens to quit or anything I’m going to tell him the truth.”
“Gosh, you’re boring. But fine.”
*
“Hey, Brian. How are you dealing with everything?”
“Hey, Jake! What everything?”
Jake tried to keep hold of his serious expression and kept on cleaning the counter. “You know. It’s going to be so much busier now.”
Brian put his bag down tentatively on a chair and started putting on his apron. “Why?”
Jake stared at him. “You’re joking, right? It’s just us and Gina now.”
“Oh, you mean today!” Brian chuckled and stepped behind the counter to help Jake.
Jake finally stopped wiping. “No, I mean from now on.” He lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “Didn’t anyone tell you? They let everyone else go. Everyone.” He added in an even quieter voice: “Budget cuts.”
Brian became red, then white. “Are you serious?”
Jake was starting to feel bad, but he kept going for his best friend. “Yup. So, how many shifts can you take? Because you know I’m leaving soon, and they’ll probably bring someone to replace me, but, you know, it’s not the same with a new guy… Aaand you’re on the floor.”
Brian had fainted.
*
“So, how did it go?” Gina called Jake at the end of his shift.
“It was fun for a minute, but I had to tell him the truth.”
“Boo. I didn’t even get to see it. How long did it last?”
“Actually, when I said a minute, I wasn’t exaggerating. The second I finished explaining the whole story he fainted. Sorry, G, I know it’s my last week and you wanted to do something big… Maybe—”
“Hold up, hold up. He fainted? After one minute?”
“Um, yep.” Jake pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he hadn’t hung up by accident. “G? Gina? I can’t hear you.”
“That’s because—” wheeze, “I’m dying—” wheeze, “of laughter.”
“Oh.” Jake’s shoulders lost some tension he hadn’t realized was there, and then he started laughing too. “It was so great. I had to pick him up, and then when I explained everything he almost fainted again…”
*
Jake crossed the street towards the coffee shop, a piece of paper in his hands, looking excited. Gina watched him from behind the counter, polishing mugs in preparation for the shop opening in forty minutes.
Jake was late, as usual. Wait. No. Jake didn’t work there, as of two days ago. He had gotten a job at a police precinct, he shouldn’t be in the shop before opening time. But as he pushed the door open, sending the bell dinging, his enthusiasm was too contagious to reprimand. “Hey, G.”
“Hey, Jake.” Gina gently put the mug down. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Jake looked around the shop casually, taking his time. “Except that I’m the best best friend ever and I got you a job interview, if you want it.” He then turned to look directly at her, smiling his mischievous grin in all its glory.
“What?!” Gina practically jumped over the counter to hold Jake and jump around excitedly. “What job? No, whatever it is, it’s better than this, with the oven gunk and the disgusting customers and Tina.”
Jake’s grin still hadn’t let up. “So, it turns out, the precinct that hired me is looking for a receptionist, and I recommended you, and they said they would let you interview. You just need to sit at a desk, your own desk, and answer some phone calls and emails, know where the officers are, maybe file some reports.”
Gina stopped jumping and wrapped her arms around Jake. “And we would work together again. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
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aliferous-ly · 4 years
Text
we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes
AKA Roman and Logan sit down and gossip -- but not in the way you think. 
pairings: platonic logince, romantic royality, romantic analogical warnings: swearing, two deceit mentions, one remus mention, if there’s anything else lmk!! wordcount: 1641
“Did you see Patton today? What he was wearing?” Roman said, swirling a bright rainbow sparkle mug. 
“Mmhmm,” Logan said. He nodded for good measure. “The soft grey sweater? With a little mouse on it?” 
“And it said mice to meet you, like,” Roman paused, making a guttural noise. “Ugh! Are you kidding me? I can’t deal with that!” 
“The pun was rather…” Logan pursed his lips. “...much. However, I agree with your sentiment. The sleeves were so long he used them as hand warmers.” 
“I am GOING to die. Like, this isn’t a drill, dig a hole of six feet,” Roman said. He leaned forward, thick fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “He should be illegal. He’s too cute. Tomorrow he’ll come down in that green knit sweater and I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing his stupid face.” 
“I thought the yellow dress would do you in. I stand corrected,” Logan said. 
“Oh, yes, it absolutely would,” Roman said. He pointed at Logan with his obnoxious glitter mug. “But it’s too cold for that. 
“Oh, what about the dark red one, and then that one scarf he has, and leggings?” Logan mused. 
“Oh shit,” Roman said. He sighed, melting against the couch cushions. “God, you’re right.” 
“Also, based on past experience, you won’t do anything of the sort,” Logan said, sipping from his own travel mug. 
Roman gasped. “Ouch! You didn’t have to come for me like that!” 
“I speak only the truth,” Logan said, shrugging. He lifted the mug to cover the slight hint of a smile. 
“Oh, but you’ll love this,” Roman said. He put the mug on the coffee table. With his newly freed hands, Roman gestured to follow his words. “I caught Virgil staring at your space blanket.” 
“Understandable. Anyone would. It’s very soft and is nice to look at,” Logan said. 
“Shut up, specs,” Roman said. “C’mon. C’mon. Imagine him all wrapped up in that blanket. Like are you kidding me? Imagine it.” 
Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring the heat travelling to his cheeks. Maybe he was too warm and should shed a layer. “Today he told me his room needed redecorating and asked me to help.” 
“Yo, get it my good nerdy friend!” Roman said, kicking Logan. “What did you say?” 
Logan avoided Roman’s gaze, electing to stare out the window where snow fell softly, as per Roman’s request. 
“Teach,” Roman said. He leveled Logan with a look. “Don’t leave me hanging.” 
“I said, I am not design oriented and thus my opinion should not be turned to, perhaps try Patton or Roman, they would enjoy this activity more,” Logan muttered, turning bright red at Roman’s incredulous stare. 
“Are you fucking kidding me? Dude!” Roman all but yelled. Logan shh’d him frantically, eyes wide. Roman lowered his voice, but only slight. “That was your opportunity! Your time to shine! You could regale him with like, creepy spider facts! What even!” 
“I panicked!’ Logan whispered loudly. “I can’t handle him when he does that weird thing with his face!” 
“You mean smiling?” Roman said, gesturing wildly. “Logan!” 
“Do not yell at me when you were just saying you couldn’t handle it when Patton was wearing a certain piece of fabric,” Logan shot back. 
“Don’t at me when you fall into a helpless puddle whenever Virgil wears a beanie,” Roman countered. 
“He looks -- he looks--”
“Really damn cute, I know! I get it, but you still fall apart so don’t pretend I’m the only useless one here!” 
“I just told you I rejected one of his -- invites -- and you think I’m put together? Bitch, please.” 
They stared at each other, almost breathless, almost huffing. Then they cracked, lips twitching up into twin smiles as laughter bubbled. 
“Ahhh,” Roman said, falling further into a reclined position. “Patton promised to make me a pink cake tomorrow.” 
“Don’t drink in that position,” Logan said. He shifted. “Pink cake? As in, the cake, or the frosting?” 
“White frosting, pink cake,” Roman said. 
“Sounds insufferably adorable,” Logan said. He picked at his travel mug, flipping the top open and closed, open and closed. 
“He really is adorable,” Roman said, sighing happily. “If I ask him to make the cute little roses, do you think he’ll say yes? Because then I can watch his concentrated face, his nose scrunches up, and sometimes his tongue sticks out between his teeth, and you can see his dimples so easily.” 
“I would put money on it,” Logan said. He frowned. “I don’t think Virgil enjoys my presence as much anymore. He looked so upset when I spoke.” 
“Because you said no, you stupid bitch,” Roman said. 
Logan rolled his eyes. “You think using harsh words will wake me up to something. It won’t work, because I don’t need waking up to anything.” 
“You need to wake up and see how much Virgil loooooves you,” Roman said, squishing his own cheeks to make a face at Logan. 
“You’re the insufferable one,” Logan said. “He does not.” 
“Does too!” Roman protested. “I have proof!” 
“Oh, do tell,” Logan said, with the air of someone who’d won three steps before. 
“Okay,” Roman said. He sat up; time to get serious. “Okay. So you know how Virgil is emotionally stunted?” 
“Rude, but continue.” 
“So he doesn’t know how to express love the same way Patton and I do -- Patton by telling you he loves you and me telling me how irritating you are, naturally -- and I think it’s because being in the other’s messed with him,” Roman said. 
Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “I asked for proof, not for you to psychoanalyse him.” 
“Okay, okay, fine,” Roman said. “He loves hanging out with you because he always has that little smile whenever you’re around, he literally frosted a cookie with blue and black plaid, caught me looking, and stuffed the whole thing in his face,” Roman said, ticking off with his fingers. “He always seems to know when you’re in the room, and hangs out with you all the time just sitting on the couch.” 
“That is very enjoyable,” Logan murmured. His fingers were warm around the travel mug. 
“Dude, I vote you go for it,” Roman said. 
“You know why I don’t,” Logan said. 
“Yeah,” Roman said. He knew. They made a pact about it, actually. No unnecessary pushing. Even if Roman thought it was very necessary. 
“Also, please tell me you heard Patton rambling about the Princess and the Frog,” Logan said. 
“Oh did I!” Roman said, loud as ever. “I almost proposed to him on the spot. Can sides get married?”
“Hell if I know,” Logan said. He took an obnoxious sip of his drink. 
“Bitch what!” Roman said. He threw his arms in the air. “You’re supposed to know everything, you logical god!” 
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Marriage is utterly impossible between the sides because it requires an ordained priest, of which none of us are.” 
“Fuck you, I can get married if I want to,” Roman said, leaning back against the couch. 
“Case and point,” Logan said. 
“Also, why can’t you become ordained?” Roman said. 
“You need a street address and I, Logan Sanders, have no address,” Logan said. He frowned. “Unfortunately.” 
“I knew you’d already tried,” Roman said. He laughed. “Let’s get Thomas ordained. Stick that in his brain during dreamland.” 
“This isn’t Inception,” Logan said. 
“Did you just make a movie reference?” Roman said. He sat forward, absolute delight shining in his voice. 
“Of course not,” Logan said. 
“Don’t lie,” Roman said. “That’s just inviting trouble.” 
“Deceit’s name is not trouble,” Logan said, distaste clear in his voice. “Besides, that’s all besides the point. You’re not going to jump straight to marriage because you’re a romantic and want to milk all relationships from every milestone.” 
“All my relationships?” Roman made a few disbelieving noises. “You make it sound like I’ve had one!” 
“Technically, you’re the hub of Thomas’s romantic feelings and therefore feel romantically attracted to his partners.” 
“Well, kinda,” Roman said. He swished his mug, watching the liquid within swirl around. “Patton shares it because he’s like, all emotion.” 
Logan thought for one, two, three moments. “How absolutely disgusting.” 
“I know, we’ve ranted so many times about how wonderful his ex’s were when they were dating,” Roman groaned. 
“It’s like sugar squared,” Logan said. He shivered. “Gross.” 
“Don’t gross me, you’re the one who literally wrote a pros and cons list to dating Virgil and your cons were he would know me and three question marks,” Roman said. “That’s gross.” 
“That’s practical,” Logan said, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. 
“You’re -- practical -- wait,” Roman laughed. “Wait, let me try again.” 
“Too late, no takesie backsies -- that is how the phrase goes, yes?” 
“Don’t be cute with me.” 
“Impossible. I’m never cute.” 
“Virgil would beg to differ--”
“How would you know what Virgil thinks? Also, this conversation seems to be targeting me a little too much. How about the time Patton slipped and you caught him? You’ve never looked redder.” 
“Stoooop,” Roman whined. “He looked so happy, okay! Also I caught him, that’s like, ultimate prince behavior.” 
“Is it prince behavior to stutter and leave the situation ten seconds later?” Logan hummed. 
“Do not come at me like that, oh my god,” Roman said. “This is a very targeted conversation, I thought we were talking tea.” 
“Alright,” Logan said. He settled in. “Where were we?” 
“Well, I was thinking about--” Roman continued talking, his voice soft and pliant. Logan interjected every so often with his own comments, the two of them catching up on all the actions of Virgil or Patton, with splashes of Deceit and Remus interspersed in. 
Ten feet away, sitting on the stairs, blocked by the wall, sat Patton and Virgil. 
They clung to one another's hands, eyes wide and faces darker than Roman’s sash. 
184 notes · View notes
igottoomuchwriting · 4 years
Text
Party Favor (Hetalia)
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Amelia cheered. Matthew let out a laugh as Amelia tackled him in a hug, stepping back so that he wouldn’t fall. 
“When have I broken my promise?”
“Never once!” Matthew let Amelia go, giving her a smile.
“Happy 243rd birthday, Amelia.” Amelia rolled her eyes and smacked Matthew’s arm.
“Shut the fuck up! You’re making me feel old.”
The siblings started making their way further into the White House, talking about everything they missed. 
“Sorry that you have to follow me while I finalize some paperwork.”
“Don’t be sorry!” Matthew assured. “I understand. I even brought some paperwork to do when we have downtime.” Amelia looked down at the briefcase in his hand and scoffed.
“Downtime? On the Fourth of July? Never fucking heard of it.” Matthew rolled his eyes at Amelia, but she didn’t feel hurt by it. They both know the differences between each other and how they celebrate their birthdays. Matthew has always been calmer than Amelia when it came to celebrating their independence days, but Amelia was nothing but proud about how happy her people are to celebrate her birthday. 
“Is anyone else coming to celebrate?” Mathew asked as they reached Amelia’s office. Amelia let Matthew enter her office first, giving her a chance to say hello to some employees that were passing by, thanking them for their good wishes.
“I, uh, asked Mexico if he wanted to come up, but I think he is busy right now.”
“Busy?’ Amelia shot Matthew a pointed look as she closed the door. Matthew raised his hands in defense, awkward as ever, but Amelia could read her brother. He knew that she was upset, especially with tensions between their people and countries.
“I know he isn’t busy, but I’m not going to be forceful when I know he is angry with me,” Amelia mumbled. 
The conversation was dropped from then on. Amelia was one of the main countries that had a hand in the debate of immigration from everywhere in the world, at every meeting it always gets back to her. Even though she never really liked talking about it, she knew she had to, but her birthday was the one day that she didn’t want to talk about the state of her country and the world. Even if she should. 
“Let’s talk about something else,” Matthew suggested. Amelia nodded in agreement.
“Oh!” Amelia exclaimed, scaring Matthew. “How is it going with Prussia?” 
A flush appeared across Matthew’s face at the mention of—who Amelia assumes is—his boyfriend. 
“It’s going good so far,” Matthew assured. Amelia sat down on her desk and faced where Matthew was sitting on a chair, leaning her head in her hands. 
“Tell me about it! Dates, gifts, sex!”
“Amelia!” Matthew yelped.
“Come on!” Amelia groaned. She grabbed Matthew's hands and started swinging them back and forth dramatically. “I never get to hear about him! You won’t even send me pictures!”
“That’s weird!” 
“It’s not!” Matthew tried hiding his face but Amelia wouldn’t let him and kept shaking his arms. “Tell me about your boyfriend!”
Before Matthew could complain even more, they heard Amelia’s phone start ringing. Both of their heads turned towards the landline laying on her desk, ringing and ringing.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?” Matthew asked. Amelia shrugged.
“That’s my country phone, not my work phone. It’s probably just someone calling to wish me a happy birthday.”
“Would it be England?” Amelia barked out a laugh.
“Hell no! He won’t talk to me the whole first week of July.” She finally let go of Matthew’s arms and grabbed her phone from her jean pocket. “I sent him a snapchat video on your birthday and he still hasn’t responded.”
“France then?” Matthew suggested. Again, Amelia shook her head.
“He already sent me a text and a snapchat, as well as some flowers. He gets very sentimental on my birthday.” Amelia leaned forward with a smirk on her face. “Though I like to remind him that my revolution was one of the many factors for the French revolution,” she stage whispered. Matthew let out a laugh as his sister scrolled through her phone.
The phone on her desk started ringing again. 
“Who the fuck calls this phone twice?” Amelia groaned.
“Maybe you should answer.”
“Nope,” Amelia mumbled, popping the ‘p’. “I don’t have to do anything country related until at least 10 o’clock tonight.”
“Well, when people call my phone multiple times—”
“Dude! If it’s urgent, then they will call my work phone. We have unspoken rules of respect on our birthdays, and I would appreciate it if they respect mine.”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Amelia, if it’s urgent, they are going to break out social rules. Sometimes other countries need to speak to America for problems—”
The phone beeped, signaling the end of the third call. Matthew really didn’t know who would be trying to reach his sister this insistently, but he knew that if they called the phone that many times, it had to be important. Not every country in the world has her personal cell number.
“Hey, you’ve reached the hero hotline! Sorry I missed your call! If it’s business related, please leave your name and phone number. If you’re calling for fun, text me or don’t bother me at all. See you later!”
“Such a professional voicemail,” Matthew teased. Amelia glared at him.
“I get to have fun with my country's voicemail. Making professional voicemails is never fun.”
“Well—”
Amelia started shushing him very loudly, waving at the air in front of his face. “Hush with your lessons!” Amelia snapped. “Whoever is calling is gonna leave a voicemail and I wanna hear it!”
“You could just pic—”
“I said hush for fucks’ sake!” Matthew had half the mind to snap at his sister for being obnoxious, but she had a point. Maybe if she heard the voice mail, she would actually get to learn why they were contacting her. And then maybe she’ll do her job as a country.
“Hey America,” a soft voice came through the speakers. Both of their heads snapped towards the phone in surprise.
“Is that—”
“Yeah,” Amelia mumbled. “That’s Any—Russia.” She corrected herself. Matthew gave his sister a sad smile but said nothing. He knew that troubles that Amelia had with Russia since she became a country and the power and relationship struggles that they’ve had.
“I need you to call me back when you get this, or whenever you have a minute. It’s very important,” the Russian voice continued, seemingly nervous to start the call. Amelia’s eyes have yet to break away from the phone, though she seemed to be making no move to pick up the receiver. 
“Or—nevermind. I won’t be calling you after this, so just… listen, for once in your short life.”
“What the he—”
“Hush!” Amelia snapped, but she looked scared, worried, and hurt. It pissed Matthew off, it truly did.
“I am calling to tell you that we...cannot speak anymore. The tension...tension between our leaders are too high, as well as between our citizens, so I see nothing productive in carrying on our friendship.”
Matthew watched Amelia’s face drop at ‘friendship’. It was obvious to everyone around them that there was something more between the two countries, but they have never had a chance to build a relationship. There have been times Matthew has tried convincing Amelia to give up her crush on the girl, to move on, but Amelia has been constant in denying it, fully believing that there is going to be a chance. Matthew had hope just like her, especially after the fall of the Soviet Union, but it doesn’t seem to have gotten any better. Just surface level things from what he sees on the news.
“You are always insistent that we can continue on without approval from anyone in our countries, but that is wrong. We are not as free as you believe, and you are not able to see that. You are just like every big county, wanting things that you can’t have, shouldn’t have, and yet you keep pushing. So, I’m stopping you.” 
“I...I don’t control everything my country does,” Amelia mumbled, a hint of anger in her tone. “She knows this.”
“I am sick of you trying to contact me on a daily basis.” Her voice changed. She seemed angrier, like she was never afraid to make the call in the first place. Matthew didn’t like assuming things in other countries, but he would assume that someone she didn’t want to hear the call walked in. “So if you contact me again, I will be messaging your president. Or I can tell England, since he always had a way of making sure you were quiet.” 
“Really?!” Matthew snapped. Amelia said nothing, just stared at the phone, waiting for Russia to finish. 
“I could lie and say it’s not you, it’s me, but we know that is false. This ending is 100% you, and the way that you continued everything. I do not wish to have any part in your life, other than diplomatically. If you attempt any conversation that has nothing to do with our countries or our country’s affairs, then I will not be talking to you.”
“I apologize for having inconvenient timing for this discussion, as I am sure you are busy, but there was no way that I could wait for the timing to be convenient for you. I hope you will understand my message. Happy birthday.”
The phone went silent after that. Neither Matthew nor Amelia made a noise. Matthew just watched his sister stare at the phone, watched she tried to school her expression into something unreadable. 
“Amelia,” Matthew mumbled. He reached forward to grab her hand but she pulled it away, holding it to her chest.
“That bitch,” she snapped. “She decided to call that phone to do this? Today?! She knows how important this day is to me, to my people! And the audacity to say that this was my fault?!”
“She seemed like she was hesitant in the beginning,” Matthew tried assuring, but it seemed to go one ear and out the other.
Amelia hopped off her desk and started pacing the room, angrily swinging her arms around and ranting.
“She wants me to just pretend that we never had anything? That we were never friends?! Because of the tension between our countries? What a load of horseshit!”
“Russia might be under a lot of stress—” Matthew tried cutting in, but Amelia stopped him.
“No! Because she has never cared before now!” Amelia scoffed shaking her head. “Like, I get it, the whole world basically hates my leader. Hell, half of my fucking country hates my fucking leader, but it takes you 3 fucking years to call me and say that the tensions between our countries is ‘too high’ and that is why we can’t talk?!”
“I was able to stay friends with many countries in the Middle East, even when my people hated them! Hell, Mexico is even trying to stay civil with me, even though it’s fucking difficult. What am I doing that is so bad that she can’t even try to talk it out with me, understanding that I am fucking trying to keep my country afloat, keep the world from hating me even more!”
“Amelia,” Matthew sighed. She turned towards him, ready to snap, but as soon as they made eye contact she started tearing up.
“I—I just—” she tried continuing her angry rant, keeping the pace going, but Matthew knew she couldn’t. He opened up his arms for a hug and waited.
Amelia relented and shoved herself in between his arms, hiding her head in his chest and she sobbed. Matthew held her tight, rubbing her back and placing small kisses on her head, trying to give her the best comfort that he could.
“I know it’s hard,” Matthew muttered. “Being with a country whose views don't aline with yours.”
“I just thought that once the USSR was gone and—and I legalized gay marriage we could have a chance. I had hope!” she sobbed, hugging Matthew tighter. Matthew’s heart shattered at the thought, knowing that his older sister was trying her best just to be with the person she loved, even if they were slower to come to the realization.
“Russia will come to terms eventually,” Matthew muttered. Amelia just let out another sob in response.
“I just want her to come to terms now,” she hiccuped. “I’ve waited for so long.”
Matthew said nothing. He had a lot he wanted to say, but he knew at that moment, hearing ‘you may have to wait just a little bit longer’ is not going to help the situation.
So instead, he just held her as he watched the phone blink with a new message alert.
---
Select The Hero!!?
>Yes 
No
Anya stared down at her phone, tears streaming down her face. She was finally able to get some privacy after her phone call with Amelia.
This was what was best. Her leader said so, her people said so, her church said so. She is not supposed to feel this way, and her leader would not be happy if he knew that she was becoming to friendly with America.
This is what she wanted to do. Anya always wants what's best for herself, for her people, and her country. 
What would you like to do?
>Edit contact
Delete  
Block
Anya wiped away her tears as she selected her choice.
What would you like to do?
Edit contact
Delete
>Block
Are you sure?
>Yes
No
The Hero!! can no longer contact you or receive messages from you. To reverse this decision, please contact your cellphone provider
---
The Hero!!: anya what was that phone call?
The Hero!!: anya answer me goddamnit
The Hero!!: please text me back
You can no longer send messages to this phone number. If there is an issue, please contact support for help.
15 notes · View notes
ashtraythief · 4 years
Note
We know this would never happen because Jared would never do that, but what would Jensen have done if he showed up to that club and Jared was actually cheating on him? Would he be so hurt he’d stop the mission, or would he feel he would have to put his feelings aside and continue to be with Jared because this is his job? Would be kill Jared right then and there, so this question is of no importance? Do tell
How dare you, nonnie. How dare you.
Of course I know Jared would never. I know. He would never. Not ever. Never ever, no chance in hell. He’s so absolutely gone on Jensen it’s not even funny anymore. But. Of course I had to fucking think about it because I couldn’t un-think it. I’m putting it under a cut for those of you who don’t want to read it because, frankly, I wouldn’t want to read it either. *shakes fist at evil nonnie*
I’m calling this the dark timeline (I have a number of dark ideas that will never be part of the actual story. Sort of like a what-if-Jared-was-actually-evil timeline. An alternate-choices-dark-timeline. A not-even-a-hint-of-happy-ending-of-any-kind timeline. This is one of them.). To reiterate: this is not part of the actual story, never will be.
Jensen can’t believe it. Jared’s actually making out with a guy sitting in his lap. Maybe it’s a fata morgana. But then Jared gets up and drags the guy out back. Jensen can see from where he’s standing the bulge in Jared’s pants. He doesn’t know whether Jared is in the mood for a blowjob or whether he’s going to fuck the guy, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Jensen’s still going to kill him.
He takes two steps and remembers that he really can’t. And if he confronts Jared… Campbell would ever let it slide. Jensen would never let it slide. Because who knows how often Jared has done this. 
Jensen looks back to the booth, where Chad and Mike are partying like nothing has happened. Fucking traitors. How many times has Jared done this and they’ve covered for him? Lied to Jensen? He thought they were his friends. His family. He thought wrong. He’s still nothing but Jared’s little thief. Good enough to get married, not good enough to be faithful too.
Jensen doesn’t even know why he’s surprised. He shouldn’t be, he knows the kind of man Jared is. He deluded himself that Jared would be different with him. Jared’s selfish, he does what he wants whenever he wants and he doesn’t bend for anyone. Not even for Jensen.
Jensen turns on his heel and leaves. He can’t let Jared know he knows. Campbell would never forgive him. Jensen will never forgive him.
Outside, Jensen stops. Willy drove him here. Willy knows.
Jensen walks back inside. He could wait until Jared’s done, but he’ll be damned if Jared gets to come down some bar twink’s throat in the back of the club while Jensen is waiting outside. He breathes, in and out. He’s Jensen fucking Ackles, undercover agent extraordinaire. Jared will never know.
He walks up to the booth, sees Chad spot him, eyes wide. He surreptitiously reaches for his phone. Jensen pretends not to notice when the fucker is sending Jared an emergeny text.
Jensen greets them, loud and exuberant
“Where’s Jared?”
“On the john,” Chad says, waves the waitress over for champagne. “You’re back early.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jensen says with a raised eyebrow.
Chad laughs, a smidge too loud. “Nah, man, happy.”
Jared shows up a minute later. All of his clothes are in place, no strand of his hair is awry, nothing to give him away. Maybe the hint of flush on his cheek.
“Hey, babe,” Jensen says and kisses him. Jared tastes like whiskey. Jensen forces himself not to puke.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Jared says and his voice is a little rough, like it sometimes gets when he’s close.
Jensen looks down. Jared’s bulge is a little more prominent than usual. “You’re very happy to see me.”
“Always am,” Jared says smoothly as if he wasn’t cheating on Jensen just two minutes ago. “How about I show you just how happy?”
Jensen imagines taking the whiskey bottle and smashing it into Jared’s face.
“Let’s take this home,” Jensen suggests and Jared goes with it.
At home, Jensen gets down on all fours, digs his hands into the sheets and imagines what Jared will look like behind bars. Jensen’s done waiting for an opportunity to present itself. He’s going to create one and he doesn’t care what it’s going to take. Jared is going down and his crew of traitorous assholes is going down with him.
The operation is sloppy, and none of them will go away forever. Morgan is angry, but Jensen’s angrier. 
Jensen goes to visit Jared in jail. He’s wearing his designer boots, tight jeans, a cashmere sweater, and his wedding ring. He took great care to style his hair and shave down his stubble. He looks good. Jensen Campbell good. 
Jared is visibly relieved when Jensen shows up even though he tries not to show it. But Jensen can read him like an open book.
“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”
“Can’t really say the same,” Jensen says, regards Jared coldly.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be in here for long,” Jared says. “They don’t have enough to make a case.”
“That’s not what the Sheppard says,” Jensen says. “He says eight to ten.”
Jared’s expression tightens. “He’s being pessimistic.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not waiting,” Jensen says and pulls off his wedding ring. 
Jared stares at him, completely stunned. “What are you doing?”
“You’ll get the papers in a few weeks,” Jensen says nonchalantly. 
“Jensen—”
“I am Jensen fucking Campbell,” Jensen says coldly. “Do you really think I’d stay with a locked-up, has-been mobster?”
Jared’s eyes narrow. “Whatever happened to you’ll love me in this life and the next?”
Jensen wants to tell him. That he saw him cheat, that this is what he gets. But Jared will put two and two together. Will hunt him for the rest of his life because he’ll know Jensen was involved. And if Jensen wants to live, he can’t risk it.
Still. It’s a close call. But eventually, he just stands. “When have I ever been sentimental? I want fun, Jared. I want a man who can handle me. Right now, you’re neither.”
“I’ll get out,” Jared says harshly, almost desperately, “soon.”
“Not soon enough.”
Jared gets to his feet. “You flighty little bitch.”
“Ah,” Jensen says with dark gratification. “I was always curious what you really thought of me. If you ever really saw me as your equal or whether I was always just a prize to win.”
“Both,” Jared says seriously, pulling out the puppy dog eyes. “You’re both, sweetheart. You’re everything.”
Jensen believes him. He wonders if that means that he was never able to tell when Jared lied to him or that everything for Jared is just not enough. He thinks about never knowing for sure, and he can’t. He gave up everything, gave up himself for Jared. He needs to know.
“But I wasn’t enough,” Jensen says.
Jared’s brows draw together.
“Did you really think I’d never notice?” Jensen bites out. 
Jared pales. 
“Tell me again, how I am everything,” Jensen hisses.
Jared drags a hand through his hair. “None of them meant anything. I just…”
Jensen waits him out, coldly staring him down.
Jared gives a helpless little shrug. “It’s nice, to get your ego stroked occasionally. And you—well, you were never the agreeable type.”
“I’d say you could have talked to me, but that wouldn’t have changed anything. Ego stroked, my ass. It was about power. Everything for you is about power. And I can’t believe I was actually stupid enough to believe you were faithful.”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever loved like this,” Jared says.
Jensen shakes his head. “Not good enough.”
“Jensen.” Jared’s expression changes to anger. Fury. “Wait. Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Me? With the Feds?” Jensen snorts derisively. “Please.”
Jared doesn’t believe it, Jensen can see it. Doesn’t matter.
“Goodbye, Jared.”
“Jensen! Don’t you walk away from me!”
Jensen walks away. Behind him, he can hear Jared scream, hears banging and more shouting. Jensen doesn’t look back. There’s nothing to look back to. Jared will come to him sooner or later. Jensen thinks about the files he has, the evidence he scurried away since he found Jared dragging a guy off to the bathroom a the Nine. Thinks about the people who didn’t go down during the bust. Dani. Gen. Aldis. Sam. Willy.
Not Willy.
But the rest, they all need to go down too. Jensen walks faster. He doesn’t have a lot of time, but he’s got work to do.
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Text
Punk Girl/Civil War Submission by The Wild West Pyro
Heyo, good morning/afternoon/evening/night
My friend on discord (The Wild West Pyro) had an absolutely mind-blowing theory concerning who the band ‘Punk’ Girl is, why she’s important to the story, and how she will lead to the rift in the Calypso Twins relationship. I don’t want to spoil anything for you guys, so I’m just going to dive right in.
(A majority of this will be directly from our conversation, with [some edits by me] to help with context and add in pictures.)
Here we go!
So we figured Punk Girl is in some way related to the CoV, or the cult in general, as she makes an appearance on what seems to be a cult-centric shirt on the gearboxloot instagram page (more credit to @ifalnasminiatures for providing me with this link!) 
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“Well, there are [a few] ways this could go:
Punk is linked to the COV and is intended to spread their message even further with the typical subliminal brainwashing thing. So they can broadcast outside of the planets the Cult has a presence on.
It’s a sore subject between the Twins, but one they hide rather well. The girl is related to them, she’s just considered by one of them as “that disgrace who refused to reclaim the birthright and ran off to join a band instead, ugh.”
She’s a band that works for the Cult sometimes. But in fact, she’s the eyes and ears of the Alliance within the Cult. Best of all is that she’s directly related to the Twins. Secretly, she disapproves of what they’re doing, but she’s the Alliance’s best hope of what’s going on.”
[That last one is the one he goes over the most, and it’s super interesting.]
“The Twins never suspect that the spy was in fact the one closest to their hearts.”
[my response: It would explain why there are no other bosses on the MoM that we know of (excluding the twins bc those are guaranteed), because she’s never going to become a fight even tho she looks the part]
“Also, [regarding] the last bit of your post, it’s just asking for a sidequest where it’s revealed that all the Gen 3.0 VHs known how to play some sick bass.
Punk Girl: ‘Hey, my bass guy is sick, can you take over?’
Zane: ‘FECK YEAH’”
[We talk a bit here about a Scott Pilgrim-esque Battle of the Bands, with Mr. Torgue as the competition, so there’s a bit of a transition that’s missing.]
“Hey, you know how Athena encrypted her messages between Engorge commercials? Punk Girl cleverly hides her messages in her music or backmasking. That’s how she sends her info to the Vault Hunters.
The twins never suspect a thing, and when she finally reveals she’s been working for Lilith, they’re genuinely shocked- and then the rift develops. One sibling would want to protect the girl, the other would want to punish her. The twins seem extremely close, so I personally feel it’d be odd if one of them up and betrayed the other [without outside influence].
It would be a great twist, too. Jack always had something planned out to trip up the Vault Hunters. But Lilith has learned much within these seven years. It turns out, Lilith is far better at pulling the strings than we ever thought Tyreen was.
Also, when Punk Girl reveals that she’s a spy for the Alliance (likely mid-game), this happens:
Tyreen screaming “YOU BITCH” amongst other horrible things and ECHOing up Punk Girl to verbally abuse her for hours, which continues through the rest of the game.
Troy trying to gently persuade his youngest sister to “Please come back” and “I don’t want to kill you”, attempting to smooth-talk her back into supporting the Cult. He keeps on ECHOing her gift baskets.
The twins arguing with each other over the fate of Punk Girl. Which, if done right, could potentially lead to a civil war within the Cult…
And to think it was all over a nice girl in a cool band.
Of course, both Troy and Tyreen are trying to kill the Alliance still, they’re just now divided over the fate of the girl and who’s gonna get the power of the vaults.
Which would add a human layer to it all- in the end, it’s just two selfish children squabbling over some big, universe-shattering toys. Albeit with billions of lives ended in the crossfire.
The war predicted by the Watcher was terrible. Zarpedon said so as well.
And, honestly, nothing’s more brutal and vicious than a civil war several galaxies-wide.”
[It was at this point that I absolutely lost my shit (in a good way) bc goddamn bro]
“Ideally, Tyreen goes out of her way to harass, demean and try to ruin poor Punk Girl’s life, and the [Crimson Raider] Alliance have to help her stand emotionally as Punk Girl undergoes a truly horrible campaign of cyberbullying, physical assault, very violent death threats and actual attacks on her band members. Tyreen mobilizes all her loyal followers to just try to hurt Punk Girl on whatever way they can.
Troy is a little different. He’s supposed to represent the streamer who manipulates fans into giving him what he wants, or scams folks by pretending to be disabled or whatever. Or the handsome fellow who’s a total self-centered jackass on the inside, but charms many people’s hearts nonetheless. So he tries to subtly brainwash Punk Girl into returning over to the Cult, and sweet-talking her to try and get her back on his sides. He’s like the caring, warm big brother on the surface, but really he just wants a new loyal sibling at his side, someone he can control far more easily. Troy’s promises are extremely alluring, his followers appear to be proposing an alliance with the Raiders (which Lilith refuses at all costs) and it’s going to be difficult for Punk Girl to resist his brainwashing techniques and honeyed words.
Basically, protect Lilith’s most treasured and loyal agent, including asking out Atlas and maybe other friendly corporations for favors to protect Punk Girl and her bodyguards (the new VHs). Bonus points if Punk Girl really is a latent Siren or something, and her power has to be safeguarded.”
[So, we know the unknown Sirens (there are two atm) are, if we understand Siren powers correctly: 12 and 7 at the time of bl3. 
HOWEVER. It’s been stated by Danny Homan that there are multiple ways for someone to receive Siren powers: 
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The most important part of this exchange is the idea that, in universe, somehow, existing people can become Sirens. Now, I am not sure if this is solely through other Siren powers (Tyreen), or Vault bullshitery, or if they just wake up one day with the tattoos, but according to Homan, it’s definitely possible. In fact, I would go so far as to say the writers are keeping things intentionally vague for this reason.
What I’m trying to reason here is that even if Punk Girl is older than 12 or 7 (odds are she is, if she’s in a band!), she could still be a Siren, just that she got her powers at a later age, like 11 or so, meaning she’d be about 23 or 18 in BL3, respectively]
“If Angel does return, and Punk Girl is going through utter hell thanks to the twins, Angel will be the finest confidant and greatest friend she’ll ever have. Angel went through similar treatment at the hands of Jack, and she’s not going to let another girl with wings get hurt again. 
I mean, most of Punk Girl’s story arc would be heartbreaking, as it really seems like the Twins have fully turned their wrath on her rather than Lilith and the Alliance. Luckily, the Vault Hunters are there to act as her shield. Like, whenever you pass her in the ship, your character can give a random line of encouragement in the really tough times she’s going through, or something like that. 
And if Punk Girl turns out to be the final Siren after all, Lilith, Angel, and Maya would all ensure that she’d never be hurt like they were in the past. 
As the abuse Punk Girl would be receiving is from her own blood relations, [it] would be far more painful for someone to experience.
Now, for how the corporations may get involved, they’ll probably just start by trying to exploit this new galactic-wide civil war (especially as it’s hinted that the Twins do mass brainwashing or something [in the] Psycho character guide), then throwing each others’ armies at their rivals in support of one Twin or another. Although I’d imagine that Atlas and maybe Jakobs would stay out of it. [In addition], the Hyperion analyst in Moze’s ECHO from Commander Lily has dialogue that implies that all the corporations are preparing in case a Second Corporate War breaks out, since the first one essentially made the BL universe what it is now.
There we go, we have the war set up, as entire populations turn on each other, having become psychos pledging undying loyalty to one of the Twins. It’s going to be a mess.
[To end] on a comical level:
Maya: (hugging both [Ava and Punk Girl]) I love my dumpster children.
[Also:]
Tyreen, with this red background and thrash metal playing in the background and “angry war face” makeup: HEY MY WHORE OF A LITTLE SISTER, YOU ARE A [insert hate speech from evil liverstreamer gremlin here].
Troy, in a fancy suit and in a warm armchair with a fireplace roaring behind him: Hello, little sister. You remember the time we played at the beach together? Well… [insert sentimental tale of sibling love and fun here that is really a thinly veiled plea to rejoin the Cult].
That’s it, that’s both their streams from that point on.”
[I don’t have much to add, to be honest. This was great.
I love the whole thing, all the way down to his characterization of everyone involved. I can totally see Tyreen being the loud, explosive one out of the two, with Troy being quieter, but far more manipulative. I think it would contrast nicely with their designs and what people might be expecting from them, especially with how Troy is the big one with his cybernetics and always scowling, and Tyreen is shorter, always smirking and looking like she’s in control. It’d be so funny to see those two roles reversed and I really, really hope that’s the plan. Especially after the reveal that Troy is the one with the braincell lmao.
The idea that this small incident could end up causing a huge, brutal war, not just between the twins, but the corporations as well, is great. We know the Watcher claims ‘war is coming’, and this would help explain what we should expect. It would be very interesting if we needed to pick a side of aid at the start of the fight (i do imagine this will be Troy if The Wild West Pyro’s characterization of the twins is true), then turn on that side once the other is eliminated.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I do!! Massive credit to The Wild West Pyro for literally all of it. It was a really fun read.]
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Survey #214
“if you are dead or still alive, i don’t care.”
Do you wear perfume or cologne? Very very rarely. Typically if I have to go somewhere formal or something. What was your favorite grade in elementary school? Probably 5th. Do you own a debit card? No. A credit card? No. Are you in debt? I don't pay for anything that could cause me to be in debt. When is your birthday? February 5th. What song are you listening to now? "I Don't Care" by Apocalyptica. What was the most traumatic experience of your life? The breakup with Jason. Have you ever lost a friend to drugs or alcohol? Kinda. Who was your childhood best friend? Her name was Brianna. Are you still friends now? We just drifted apart. If not, why? ^ Do you believe in Karma? Nope. What do you thinks happens to us when we die? I don't pretend to know. I hope some sort of eternal peace for those deserving, but who the hell knows. What age do you think you’ll die? Idk. 70s/80s? My grandparents lived pretty long. About how long was the last book you read? I haven't a clue. Have you ever read a play before? Yeah, in school. A play not written by Shakespeare? I don't think so. Have you ever read a play outside of school? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? A lot... I'm one of the admins at the Silent Hill wiki, a content mod or something I don't remember on the SotC one, and I occasionally edit the meerkats wiki, which is an atrocious mess that I try to clean up where I can. Is there a website [besides social networking] that you check almost daily? A lot. Do you use your phone as an alarm? Yep. Do you listen to music while you sleep? No. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? I don't get "scared," just very paranoid of germs. Are you realistic? In some ways. Do you own a romper?  No. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, and then I have a Twitter solely to like Mark's shit lmao. What does your computer’s slow-loading cursor look like? It's a spinning light blue ring. Do you prefer Microsoft Word or Pages? I've never heard of the latter, so. Would you rather have a trampoline or swimming pool? A pool, please. Do you have the same favorite colors you had when you were a kid? Pink, yes. What do you like to put in your tea? N/A What do you like to put in smoothies? I don't really drink them. Do your stuffed animals have names? Some. What was the name of the first porcelain doll you got? Bitch miss me with that haunted doll shit. Do you sell any products? If so, what? No. Do you know how to knit? No. Do you have an inspiration board? I have one on Pinterest of hair colors I like. Do you have a colored teddy bear? Maybe up in the attic somewhere. On what day is your local grocery store the busiest? I'm sure it's the weekend. What day do you usually go grocery shopping? Mom doesn't have a designated "day." Do you own a bobblehead? No. What do you make wishes on? Nothing. Wishes aren't magic. Well, I do on birthday candles, but that's only as a tradition sorta thing. What’s the best natural pain reliever? It depends; sometimes nothing natural works. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "That's What You Get," probably. Do you like scrambled eggs? Yes. Have you ever made a recipe you found in a magazine? No. Have you ever done a craft that you saw in a magazine? I don't believe so. Are you bitter about anything? I am permanently and inexplicably bitter towards my former primary doctor that fucked up my entire body thanks to keeping me on a medication and her being an ignorant fuck to the side effects, apparently. What is your favorite color for cars? Burnt orange. What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? *shrugs* If applicable, what’s your favorite dance costume that you’ve had? It was some sort of black dress-ish thing. I can't remember clearly. What’s your favorite flavor of mouthwash? Minty? Just ffs don't have alcohol in it. Do you drink CapriSuns? If there's nothing else to drink, sure. Do you prefer caramel or peanut butter? Peanut butter, I think. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. Do you like butterflies? Yeah, they're my fave insect. Do you know any dances? Only the ones that literally tell you what simple move to do lmao. Did you go anywhere yesterday? No. Do you like yellow or blue more? Blue. Do you wear rings? Only one. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? French toast sticks for lunch yesterday. How often do you go for walks? Never, sadly. Walking along my road is scary with how busy it is, I CANNOT handle the heat, and for the time being, I can't walk far at all with my knee problem. Do you go on the computer or watch TV more? I say enough I don't watch TV, but I'm always on my laptop. What is something you’ll never eat again? Why? Brussel sprouts. 'Cuz they're fucking disgusting. What is currently happening that is scaring you? Abortion rights being taken away/wrongly modified is pretty scary, honestly. What would be your personal hell? The Christian Hell because fuck that heat lmao. What made the ‘weird kid’ at your school weird? He, I shit you not, would not say a word, but if he absolutely had to speak, he kept it very very short and quiet. He was always looking down and isolated himself. I felt really bad for him; he was so obviously depressed, but I was always too unsure of how to approach him and try to be a friend. What is a word you personally find offensive? "Retarded" when used incorrectly. What instantly puts you to sleep? Instantly go to sleep??? Please teach me how. What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? Well, I don't speak German fluently, so like, a shitload of Rammstein songs. What is something you would like to do if you weren’t judged for doing it? Tbh cosplay sounds so fun. What’s a movie you think everyone should watch? Why that one? Johnny Got His Gun. It shows just how fucking disgusting war is. What was the most unexpected good thing that’s ever happened to you? Senpai Noticed Me. What is the funniest fact you know? Idk. Oh, I might be mistaken, but I think the guy who invented the segway died via driving off a cliff on a segway. Big 'ole oof. What’s the kindest way a stranger has treated you? I remember as a little kid, the people in front of us in line at McDonald's paid for our meal. What is the biggest design flaw of your body? I have this random, deep dimple on my right ass cheek like what the fuck. What is the strangest thing you have ever felt? OKAY SO when I was in the process of having my ears cleaned back when I had that wax adhered to my eardrums, one step was having warm water like pounded into my ears, and it somewhat tickled but also felt oddly good, and it was just really weird. What makes someone immediately unlikable? Acting like they're above everyone else. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? Darkiplier hunny my poor husband. I won't answer "why" because yeah spoilers. What is something you regret to NOT have done? Fuck it, I wish I'd had *complete* sex w/ Jason. I was in love with him, and I'll probably never experience genuine sex again so like- What’s the weirdest thing you put in a microwave? Idk? What movie changed your life for the better? I'm not sure. Oh, wait, I remember when I was still Christian, God's Not Dead really touched me, but we know how I am religiously now. What’s something your relatives don’t know about you? Many probably don't know I'm bi. What’s something your parents did, which you have sworn never to do? Have children before marriage. Back when I wanted kids. What’s the most annoying thing your pet does? My cat is obsessed with trying to lie on me as he'd done as a kitten, but then I can't see over him to see the laptop. Teddy scratches a lot and won't listen to "stop" for anything. What’s the biggest sum of money you’ve won? Uhhhh. I have no clue. Have I ever? Idk. Have you ever smoked weed on April 20? No. Tell me about the last event that made you really, truly happy? Oh boy. Can you name three good things about your most recent ex? He's funny as fuck, super intelligent, and hard-working. Have you ever thought about how the world will end? Yeah. What object do you own that has the most sentimental value to you? The pebble I got from my partial hospitalization program. What’s the best memory you have of your father? Him teaching me to ride a bike. What was on the last sandwich you ate? Ham, cheese, and mustard. Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? Silver matches more things, but I'm allergic to it. I find gold in general prettier, too. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. What is your favorite Thai dish? Never tried Thai food. When was the last time you made out with somebody? February. Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they? No. When was the last time you went to a birthday party? Last month for my niece. What pet names do you use with your significant other? A whole lot. What brand is your toaster, if you have one? We don't have a toaster, but a toaster oven. I don't have the slightest clue what brand it is; it's ancient. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No and nope. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart or Harris Teeter. Would you rather travel to Japan or Scotland? Oh man, I don't know! I guess Scotland. Does your house have a porch/balcony? We have a decently-sized back porch. There's a front one as well, but it's tiny. What was the last movie you saw and who did you watch it with? I watched The Shining by myself. What’s your favorite type of bread? Pumpernickel. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No. What time does the sun go down where you live at this time of the year? Like, 8:30-ish. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? If I literally had to get them done for whatever reason, I guess I'd pay. Me doing them myself would be a nightmare, especially with tremors. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? I haven't taken it yet. Do you have any stickers on your car? I don't have my own car. Blackberry, Droid, or iPhone? iPhones. Do you like diet soda? NO. I don't just not like the taste, but the artificial sweetener gives me crazy headaches. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars? No. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. How old were you the first time you drank alcohol? I don't remember. WAIT shit dude, I was young. I grew up going to a Catholic church, and during that "eating the blood and body of Christ" thing (I forgot what it's called), we sipped real wine. Yes, even the kids. That shit was NOT grape juice. Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one. What was the last fight you had with your parents about? Dad, I've got no clue. Mom, about her constantly shit-talking my dad and I no longer wanted to hear any of it in my presence. Does your car have a sunroof? N/A Did you ever have braces? Yes. Are you from the South? Yes. What does your last status on Facebook say? It was something about the bullshit Alabama abortion law, I believe. I barely ever ever make my own statuses. Do you tip your server when you go to a restaurant? I never can because yeah, no money, so I can't even pay for the meal. If I could, of course I would. Have you ever snuck out of your house? No. Are you friends with people on Facebook that you actually hate? No? Name your favorite Ke$ha song: I guess "Take It Off." What’s your favorite place? Ah man, the tattoo/piercing parlor I go to. What was the last comic book you read? It was one of the Silent Hill ones on the app years ago. What’s the worst trouble you’ve ever gotten into? Probably when I ran away from home in like middle school. Do you know anyone your age who has a child? A good number, but I mean I'm 23 so that's not exactly strange. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? A few. The last time you threw up, what caused it? Medicine that was known for nausea. Did you have any foreign exchange students at your high school? I don't think so? Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? Not off the top of my head. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Maybe. Probably. Idk. Have you kept the same icon here for a long time? Yeah. I don't really take pictures of myself, so. Why did you choose your icon, anyway? It's the most accurate representation of how I look on the daily. And it's not horrendous. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? Sometimes. It doesn't hurt my feelings, but rather it makes me deathly embarrassed because I feel stupid for liking it and like they're making fun of a part of me. Can you be friends with people with opposing political views? Yes. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? I don't think I exactly "left" them, just lost big interest, like Rhett & Link/GMM. I still love the guys, but I don't watch them anymore. Warriors is another example. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffled. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don't cook. Can you do any impressions? No. What color do you want to dye your hair? Currently I want to dye it lilac, but I can't afford a professional to do that. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? Shrimp. Favorite fictional world? Wonderland. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Have you ever had to use it? N/A Have you ever been kicked out of a public place? Why? No. Do you donate to any associations that care for animals? I don't have my own money. Have you ever worn those Drunk Goggles? Yes, in D.A.R.E. Can you agree to disagree, or usually get upset over conflicting views? It depends on the topic, but it's generally very easy for me to agree to disagree. Rodeos – entertaining, or cruel? Animal abuse. Who is the best female rocker? Why? Ohhhh good question. I like Lita Ford, for one; great singer and she fucking slays the guitar. She seems cool, too. Do you care what kind of toilet paper you use? Not really, no. Do you still have any decent arcades nearby? No. Bullfighters who get gored kind of had it coming, right? Yes. They fucking deserve it. Have you ever accidentally found porn when looking for something else? Thank God no. What do you like on your burger? Cheese, ketchup, mustard, a little bit of mayo is fine but not mandatory, pickles, and very little onion is okay. What do you NOT like on your burger? Lettuce and tomato. Do you like 'loose meat’ sandwiches? Like sloppy joes? Yeah. Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? No, but that'd be pretty fucking cool. What things have people shamed you for? Besides the obvious disagreements like political subjects, I don't know. Do you always reply to private messages? (On any website) Yes, unless it's spam or advertisement. Are there any 'adult stores’ in your area? I wouldn't know. Have you been inside of them/shopped there before? No. Who was your favorite actress to play Morticia Addams? Anjelica Huston. What is the next film you want to rewatch? Idk. I don't really watch TV or movies to begin with. What is the next film you want to see for the first time? I've been wanting to see Jacob's Ladder for a very long time, but I have to find a time I actually *really* feel like it to possibly enjoy it. A movie you love even though it’s cheesy? I'm sure there's something, but idk. Share any song lyrics you misheard? When I heard "Purple Haze" by Jimi Hendrix for the first time, I swore the lyrics were "excuse me while I kiss this guy" instead of "kiss the sky." What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I both enjoy "Bad Girl" by Avril Lavigne and see it cringy as fuck at the same time. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Heather Mason from Silent Hill 3 is up high 'cuz she's a badass, CYNDER FROM THE LEGEND OF SPYRO SERIES BECAUSE SHE'S COOL AS ALL HECKIN' HECK AND ALSO #AESTHETIC, and I've fallen more and more in love with Tyrande Whisperwind from World of Warcraft now that she's become vengeance-crazed and more interesting than she already was. Oh, and then there's Bayonetta. Why? You know why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? In recent news, BRING BACK STAN THE MOTHERFUCKING WATER MAN, MARK. Have you ever had to hit up several stores in search of one item? What was it? I'm sure I have at some point. Do you have any calluses on your feet? From when I used to walk outside for hours, you have no idea- What was your last big purchase? A plane ticket. Have you ever eaten grits? I HATE THEM SO MUCH. Do you always dress right after a shower, or do you like to chill in your towel/robe for a while? I put clothes on right away. Have you ever looked up your state’s laws and read them? I don't think so. Have you ever had to talk to a lawyer? I feel like I did have to once for something...? Have you ever been in pain so bad you passed out? No. I sincerely don't know how I didn't when I had to get that cyst drained, though. I have no words for that pain. Can you have kids? Well, physically, yeah. Doesn't mean I ever will or even want to. If you could get rid of one of your allergies, which one would it be? POLLEN. Do you have any cousins that look like you? No. Who do you know who is dating someone that looks way too old for them? Idk. Have you ever gone on a Facebook deleting spree? Yeah. What's a good example of "don’t knock it till you try it"? Waffles with peanut butter spread over them with syrup. What is surprisingly painful? Hm. "Surprisingly." OH, something I say as well as many others: Getting your nose pierced is more painful than you'd think compared to other piercings. Which person shaped you the most? Probably Jason. Or Mom. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Do you live anywhere near the woods? There's a wooded area beyond the field. Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Mine and Sara's. Can you rap? I don't even have to try to say no. Do you know how to use a DSLR camera? Yes. Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. Oh man... I remember in elementary school, 3rd grade I think, I had the weirdest 3-day "sickness" where I felt every single moment like I was right on the very verge of vomiting. I went to the ER on the third night, but they couldn't detect what was wrong. Next day, I woke up miraculously fine. Those days were horrifying for someone who is terrified of vomiting. Any important birthdays coming up? My nephew's isn't far off. If you could play one instrument flawlessly, what would it be? Electric guitar. Have you ever heard of Hollywood Undead? Do you like them? I love some songs, like others, don't enjoy or care about a handful, and then truly haven't heard most. Have your friends ever told you something really personal? Was it weird? Well yeah, close friends do that often. It's not weird. Has anyone ever called you a coward before? Who called you that? No. Have you ever written a whole song before? What was the title to it? No. Are you a Jeffree Star fan? Or no? Do you think he’s awesome/dumb? I loooove that funky alien man. I find his work ethic incredibly inspiring and he seems so super accepting and is just very radiant and positive. Has your grandmother ever made you anything? Not including cookies. I don't think so.
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medeafive · 6 years
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Someone requested a medieval AU sometime ago- this is way more modern than that. Also, if someone wanted to continue this in any way, I’d be so, so glad. I feel like this has potential, but I have so many other WIPs...
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
It was impossible to overlook her.
Natalia “please, call me Natasha” Romanova was easily the most beautiful lady in London this summer, a fact that most people agreed on. Her Russian accent made for a lot of talking among the noble class and whether you thought it completely exaggerated or incredibly charming, you had to have an opinion on the matter.
Bucky didn’t care whether or not her mannerism was intended or natural, he had an insane crush on her. Much to Steve’s disdain, because Natalia Romanova was the fiancée of Duke Alexei Shostakov, whom she was to marry upon her return to Russia. Bucky had suggested that maybe, this was the reason for her constantly postponed return, but Steve had vehemently disagreed, arguing that her extended holidays didn’t mean any change to her future plans as well as her matrimonial ambitions. Bucky had rolled his eyes and instantly forgotten everything Steve had said.
Tonight, there was a ball at the Wilsons’ country house and Natalia Romanova was attending in a magnificent dark blue gown and white gloves that reached just above her elbows. Her red curls were skilfully arranged around her head, an expensive pearl necklace was winding around her slender neck and Bucky was staring mercilessly.
“Stop drooling, Barnes,” ordered a voice belonging to the heir of the Wilson family, Sam. Sam was a good friend of Steve and, by extension, Bucky. He also agreed with Steve that Bucky’s emotional investment in Natalia Romanova was becoming ridiculous.
“I’m not drooling,” Bucky insisted, wiping his mouth clean automatically. He grabbed a drink and his eyes wandered by themselves back to the amazing redhead. “I am… looking.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah, sure. Try not to look any harder or your eyes will fall out.”
Bucky scoffed. Natalia Romanova made her way from group to group, exchanging warm greetings and engaging in polite conversation. The way she bowed her head, her pearl earrings dangling…
“So, did you finally talk to her?” Sam’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Steve is already with Sharon?” Bucky asked back.
“Wait, wait, that was dodging,” Sam scolded. “Yes, of course he is, but wait, did you actually talk to her?”
“I tried,” Bucky mumbled into his glass, frowning.
“Poor boy,” Sam said in his most soothing voice. “But you are aware that already next year, she is going to be far away in icy Russia?”
“Yes, I am aware,” Bucky snapped before deliberately calming himself. “I am aware.”
Sam sighed. “And what did you say to her?”
“Nothing, I bumped into a servant who then spilled wine all over her dress,” Bucky admitted quietly. “And then I panicked and hid in the kitchen the whole evening.”
Sam visibly tried not to laugh but failed. “Good Lord, you’re really one of a kind, aren’t you?”
Bucky pouted, stepping to the side so he could continue watching Natalia Romanova without being seen. “It’s not funny.”
“Believe me, it is,” Sam assured him, taking a sip of his wine. “You’re such a gracious swordfighter but within a few feet of that woman, you become a clumsy oaf. It’s hilarious.”
“Most definitely not,” Bucky insisted.
“Well, I have bad news for you.” Sam put on a grave expression. “I heard that your dear Lady Natalia rejected Lord Slitherbourne’s courting last week. That has to be the twelfth one in half a year.”
Bucky tried not to react visibly but he was definitely listening. “How does that qualify as news? She has a fiancé after all.”
“In Russia,” Sam specified. “Which is at least half a year’s journey- wait, why am I the one telling you this and not the other way round?”
“I don’t know, why are you constantly telling me that she rejected about every nobleman in London-”
“Sergeant Barrrnes”, a female voice with a really purring rrr interrupted.
Of course it had to be Natalia Romanova, smiling as she curtsied and added: “Lord Wilson, it is trrruely a pleasure to be at your ball tonight.”
Sam reacted lightning fast and bowed his head. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Romanoff. Would you be so kind to excuse me?”
Bucky shot him a pleading look but Sam shrugged unapologetically, walking over to where Steve and Sharon were wooing each other. What a great friend. Bucky’s longing gaze followed him while he tried not to faint out of excitement.
“Well, Mister Barrrnes,” Natalia Romanova purred with her incredible accent, turning his name into something exotic and exciting. “I do believe you owe me an apology.”
Bucky turned to her reluctantly, his brain delivering nothing but nonsense: “Excuse me, for what?”
“You ruined my dress,” Natalia said softly. “Rrred wine on silk. A deadly combination.”
“Ah.” Bucky shook his head, trying to ignore the fact that Sam, Steve and Sharon had started to make excited gestures in his direction. “Well, my heartfelt apologies. I do believe that dark colours are a better fit for you, if this offers you any comfort.”
Natalia’s smile was only innocent on the surface, as he noticed from close by. “Why, thank you, Serrrgeant Barrrnes.”
Bucky looked around and threw all caution out of the window. “You know, I always found it funny that you speak almost perfect English, yet somehow can’t seem to get rid of that accent.”
“What can I say?” Natasha responded, almost all traces of her accent vanished instantly. She took the drink out of his hands and took a sip. “The men like it. Quite a lot, as it appears.”
“Is all of this a game to you?” Bucky asked, failing not to stare at her beautiful slender fingers wrapped around his glass. “Attracting everyone’s desires only to reject them in the end?”
“Just look at it this way.” Natalia handed the empty glass to a passing waiter he hadn’t noticed earlier. “This might be my last chance to play.”
Bucky’s heart sank, even though he already knew that. “Why, are you going back to Russia?”
“Sooner or later.” Natalia’s gaze drifted to his dear friends, who immediately tried to look inconspicuous but failed miserably. “Doesn’t matter. At some point, I will go back.”
“And you don’t want to?” Bucky continued asking, maybe a bit too hopeful.
Natalia smiled at him in a way that hid her real emotions. “It does not matter what I wish for. I have to be in line with my family.” She winked. “So, I play as long as I can.”
If she was trying to make Bucky feel bad for her, it was working. “But what about all the people you hurt in your wake? Don’t they count?”
“Oh, boy, they will get over it,” Natalia muttered. “They really do. I heard Lord Slitherbourne started wooing the daughter of Lord Murdock. If I were him, I would have waited a few more weeks. It would make her look less like a second choice then.”
Bucky shook his head. “Still. As you said, your last chance to do things of your own volition, and you waste it on this superficial spiel with people you don’t even care about?”
“Do I hear an offer in that, Mister Barnes?” Natalia teased, pushing a few loose curls behind her ear. “Are you really so desperate to have your heart broken?”
Yes, his mind supplied but he didn’t say that out loud. “I was talking about you, Miss Romanova. Don’t make this about me.”
“Well, I am glad to hear that.” Natalia sounded carefully neutral. “As a commitment to a simple Sergeant would be far below my niveau.”
Of course she spoke French. Bucky pretended not to be hurt. “Well, with marrying a Duke, a lot of things must seem like a downgrading.”
“Which is why my family will not settle with anything lesser.” Natalia sighed. “Neither will I.”
“Got it, you don’t want me to woo you,” James stated a little too aggressively. “You couldn’t have made that shorter, could you?”
“I could have, but that would have dampened your friends’ reaction,” Natalia argued, smiling at the sight of Sharon clutching Steve’s arm in sheer excitement. “You seem to be very close with them. First and foremost Captain Rogers.”
“You could say that,” Bucky agreed, thinking about Steve’s stupid talent to get into fights. “Where are you going with this?”
“Oh dear, I already have broken your heart, haven’t I?” Natalia shook her head with a sad smile. “I am sorry. Anyway, I saw your duel with Rumlow, though I don’t remember the reason for it. It must have been something about Lady Carter.”
The reason was that Rumlow was a disrespectful son of a bitch, but Bucky couldn’t say that to her. “He deserved it.”
“Oh, I’ve met Rumlow, I have no doubts about that.” Natalia smiled. “But your skills are impressive. I want you to teach me.”
She couldn’t be serious. “Teach you what?”
“Ballet dancing,” Natalia answered, overflowing with sarcasm. “Sword fighting of course.”
Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. “I… I can’t do that.”
“So you believe women are in general unfit for physical activity?” Natalia prompted.
Bucky could almost feel Sharon slam her elbow between his ribs. He unconsciously rubbed his side. “No, but… is it a usual thing in Russia for women to learn sword fighting?”
“Well, if I already had someone ready to teach me, I wouldn’t have to convince you, right?” Natalia smiled.
Bucky snorted. “Right. Thank you for letting me know that I’m the second choice.”
Natalia laughed briefly. “If it comforts you, you are the first person whom I have asked.”
Well, that was… something? “Great. Why do you even want to learn that?”
“Why not?” Natalia shot back. “It should be more entertaining than constantly crushing other people’s dreams. And I would prefer to be able to look after myself.”
Bucky understood that sentiment, but he still didn’t think any of this was a good idea. Which didn’t mean that he didn’t want it. “People will talk. Ladies like you aren’t supposed to do that.”
“If I cared about what people say, I wouldn’t talk to you for so long right in front of their eyes,” Natalia responded briskly. “Soon, I will be a Russian Duchess who doesn’t have to care what the lower classes think of her anyway.” She smiled. “Besides, I was hoping to rely on your discretion.”
Oh, this was really a horrible idea, wasn’t it? “I… I think I can do that.”
Natalia’s smile turned even brighter. “Really? That is good to know. Send me a letter as soon as you are ready, I’ll make time.”
There shouldn’t be this blooming feeling in his chest, just for being placed so high among her priorities. After all, she had made the nature of her interest very clear. “Will you? I can find a place that meets your standards for discretion.”
Natalia leaned forward a little bit and for a moment, Bucky thought she was going to kiss him on the cheek and died inwardly. Of course, she only whispered: “You should get back to your friends. They seem very excited for the news. Besides, I’ll have to rely on their discretion as well.”
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queenscharacters · 3 years
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April 03 - Chalk
It was pretty funny that most people considered Luca a shy guy. The word they were probably looking for was quiet (sometimes disinterested), but he didn’t really care about the opinions of others. Anyone who knew and had somewhat of a relationship with him knew that if he took after any parent more (despite being, in his opinion, a great mix of the two) that it was his father. He was a crackhead at heart. Truly a little shit, if he cared. People should probably be lucky that they didn’t know this side of him. 
And there was no one in the entire universe that could pull this side out of him, especially at such a magnitude, than Valentina Harding. She was his best friend since birth and, honestly (not that he would admit it), the woman he had been in love with for the past three years. Anyone with eyes could see that she was his other half. The person he became when he was with her was truly his best, most authentic self, and he was almost embarrassed to admit that she was the only one who knew it. Then again, there wasn’t another person on this planet he felt such a cosmic connection to.  Whatever the two of them had was clearly something meant for the stars, even if they tried to downplay it frequently. 
Luca wouldn’t even dare thinking about doing this to his mother or sisters. As much as he loved his family, he couldn’t fathom tackling any of them in public or try to sabotage their appearance so they would be embarrassed to walk back to their cars. It would also just be wrong to touch any of them the way he did Val...so much so it made him cringe to even think about it. 
He kept it cool when Val approached him while he worked, biting his lip so he wouldn’t smile too hard.  Val would be suspicious. “Hey whore!” She greeted cheerily, holding out his Starbucks order. 
Luca took the cup graciously, masking his smirk by taking a sip. “You’re 8 minutes late. Seems a bit hypocritical to call me a whore.” 
Val pretended to be offended, huffing and puffing as she dramatically whipped out her middle finger. “Bite me, bitch.  I paid extra for your oat milk and maybe I might have gotten you a cake pop...that I bit half of...but the sentiment was still there.” 
It took a lot of strength not to roll his eyes.  “Ugh, I’m being so horrible when you’re such an angel.  What would I do without you?” He sprang to his feet, arms outstretched.  It was clear that he was going in for a hug.  And it was just his luck that Val was wearing white.
Usually, his murals were done with weather resistant acrylic paint, but this client specifically wanted chalk for their temporary pop-up.  Luca didn’t understand, he hoped it wouldn’t rain between the time they were open, but ultimately a paycheck was a paycheck.  And, as chalk would go, he was absolutely covered in it.  His hands, specifically, were practically caked in a multitude of colors.  
Val saw his palms, the expression on his face, and immediately began to back away quickly.  “Luca...Luca!  Don’t you fucking dare!” She screeched.  
He was already exhausted from laughter as he approached her easily, wrapping his body tight against hers.  He rubbed his hands all up and down her t-shirt, moving them across her slip of exposed skin and onto her white leggings.  He pressed them against her face, smushing her cheeks in the way he know she hated, before giving her an old fashioned noogie.  When he was done, she as covered in pastel chalk.  
The moment he let her go, Val stood on her tiptoes to take his face in her hands.  “I am going to get you back and it's going to be so much worse than this.” She promised, her voice gentle but sincere.  She even kissed the tip of his nose for added show, then patted his cheek just a little harder than normal.  “Everyone knows you like to feel me up, but honestly, Luca, you could have just asked.” 
“Please.” Luca snorted, actually rolling his eyes now. He didn’t hesitate to move his hands back down the side of her body, going exceptionally slow as they travelled down certain areas.  “I can do this whenever I want.   This was an excuse to get you back for Monday during fifth period.” He smacked her ass once his hands got there, because why not?  Hell, he even kept his hands there for a little bit simply because he could. “And you’re welcome.  We both know you love it.” 
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