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shijiujun · 4 years

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On Translations

Once again, I’m just plain incensed by dumbasses who think it’s okay to firstly, steal someone else’s hard work and secondly, think they’ve got some right to edit that person’s work because they think they’ve got a better grip on English (not true btw) - It didn’t happen to me (well, as far as I know) and I’m not in the Guardian fandom and I don’t personally know the person who’s dealing with this ridiculous shit, but oof am I angry after seeing the tweet.

Just saw on twitter that some asshole stole a translator’s works (Guardian, Chinese to English) and edited it - Yes it’s just like the MDZS saga a few weeks ago when some white person who doesn’t have any Chinese language knowledge, tried to ‘improve’ translations done by another person who actually knows what they’re doing in both Chinese and English - And then put in on Wattpad with a ridiculous letter and intro where they said: “Great things can be made greater” to explain why they edited the English of the original translation.

“Great things can be made greater,” said the thief.

“I hope my actions will be appreciated,” said the thief again.

Like wow, once again, the audacity - There’ve been extensive arguments on translations since the MDZS saga a few weeks ago and obviously the fan who took ExR’s translations and ‘made them better’ stupidly stepped on a landmine by fucking with the MDZS fandom that has a longer history, more resources and clout than the amount of time she’s been exposed to MDZS via CQL, and got bitch-slapped by the rest of the fandom where there exists a majority of fans knowing clearly what to do and not to do.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of all fandoms, especially smaller ones - The user i saw is a translator for Guardian and the mofo 1. Stole their translations 2. Edited the translations to ‘better english’ 3. Wrote that they don’t know who did the original translations but “they know where to find me” *cue my eyeroll* 4. And after op commented to say please credit at the very least in May, they’ve been ignored so far - but luckily they’ve got some supporters as well to help report the mofo.

Aside from the ridiculous thievery (not crediting, blatantly lying and stealing, being an arrogant, indecent person stuck on that high horse) of course, the “I believe that great things can be made greater” is a fucking load of bullshit in this instance, and I mean taking someone else’s translations and adding your own spin to it because you think you’ve taken tests in English as a first language in school all your life (fuck off, a lot of these translators did too), that you’ve got some superiority over English or because you think it reads funny?

Granted, most fan translators don’t put up flawless translations (once again, these translators are FREE LABOUR), but you get it for free and you don’t have to (and can’t) read the original text, so suck it up.

Moreover, the disgust that I feel at the claim that the thief’s work is now ‘greater’ is extremely visceral - It’s not a greater piece of work because the thief stole it, period. No one asked for the thief’s help.

(In case you guys are curious the stolen post on Wattpad is here: https://my.w.tt/7dehLj7D56 and if you’d like to report just follow the instructions)

On Chinese to English translations:

1. If you don’t have good grasp of the original language, you have no right editing the translated work after, regardless of language. Until you can clearly understand the original idioms, context, characters etc. or have at least lived with the language for a substantial part of your life, honestly, just stop, you’ve got no right!

Sure, some translators aren’t as good as you like them to be, but the argument is always, well, you wouldn’t even have this minimal translation if they didn’t do it, so yay you’re like a few sentences and words closer to the text than you were before. If it’s really that bad, hopefully there are better translations and you can ignore the one you’re looking at, but the same rules apply across all translations!! Don’t disrespect the translator (especially when they’ve done nothing wrong except try to give you access to more content).

2. For Chinese, it’s even worse because the language is known for its hidden nuances and complexities within just two to four characters that, when translated into English, can sometimes take up to two long sentences to explain. That’s why sometimes shit reads funny. It’s not that these translators can’t do English, but Chinese to English acrobatics is beyond your comprehension, hell sometimes it’s beyond translators’ comprehension, so thanks for editing something you’ve got no idea about. This user Bee made a very good argument thread IMO about this on Twitter which I suggest people read

3. Adding your edits to a translated piece of work especially without permission or discussion with the translator, honestly who the fuck are you to do that? Either work your damn ass off by painstakingly translating the original and then editing it however you like, or just... enjoy the free content. Chinese BL novels (in this instance and as in many instances i’ve seen) and some of these translators have been around for longer than you’ve been in the fandom, so suddenly when you have an interest in the content, in a culture and language that you’ve never seen before, are unfamiliar with and have zero knowledge about, you think that as a fan you now have the right to edit someone else’s work that was already done correctly?

The fact is if the translator wrote a bogus line in the English translations, you wouldn’t have known, and when you upload it as your own and ‘improve’ it, you would be a joke, but you didn’t read the original text did you, so what makes you are any sort of authority to edit the translations?

4. Of course this is not to say that non-Chinese speaking people can’t enjoy the same content or have excellent, poignant discussions and understanding over the content, but honestly a lot of translations don’t capture 100% of a Chinese novel because the nuances are just that complex, and translators do their best to convey it regardless - This is why RESPECT FOR THE TRANSLATOR IS IMPORTANT. And I don’t mean simply paying lip service and typing “we respect all translators for their hard work on this work”, and then disrespect it entirely by not crediting, by the simple act of editing without permission etc.

Respect their interpretation and translations, because it can differ from translator to translator translating the same sentence (and people who don’t speak the original language want to compete with that, I don’t understand?!)

5. Honestly, considering how people are still arguing on the semantics of the Bible for example, not only in its original language but also in English alone - if people can’t agree on every sentence of the holy text and what each sentence means to different people, fan translators get a fucking pass

6. I read in Bee’s threads where someone disagreed with their argument of ‘only people who understand the original language can translate and edit’, saying that it’s okay if the editor doesn’t have a grasp of the original language - I understand that yes, someone else’s English might truly be better (for e.g. actual editors but also please don’t proclaim that you’re one just because you think the translator hasn’t lived with English for most of their lives or whatever), but even then, the editor has to work really closely with the translator because the translator is the primary source of the translation i.e. they know exactly what is going on in a particular sentence in their heads that may not have been translated fully, so how can non-Chinese reading editors truly understand the translated text on its own, editing in silos?

7. Perhaps in actual publishing houses that deal with official translations, this is a fallacy that is ever-present and editors do that anyway without understanding the original text (not sure about this, I’m bringing up the point for consideration, hypothetically putting this out here), but my issue with ‘editors’ in the fan translations space is that they come off sitting on some high horse because they think they’re better in English than you are (which of course yes, might be true, but then read points 1-6 again)

8. A thief is a thief, don’t put up an open letter or disclaimer explaining your motivations. It’s plain and simple, you stole someone else’s work, claimed it for your own and are riding on the great (sometimes not so great but still great, if you get what I mean) work that the translator did. You don’t get to claim ownership for any part of it, even your edits. And once again, “original work belongs to the translators” without actually naming the translators? Fuck off.

9. God, I hate Wattpad and Instagram (okay sometimes Twitter but Twitter seems to be a halfway point) - The Sanctuaries for Lazy Content Thieves Where The Platform Endorses Their Shitty Behaviour

10. Aside from translations, I’ve also seen assholes stealing like shitposts and jokes - These are the hardest to prove as well and it’s almost impossible to claim ownership when someone steals your jokes. Thieves only wish they had as creative a brain as some of you (didn’t happen to me but to a mutual) do. The audacity. The audacity! if the work was actually done and paid and recorded, if TurnItIn.com was available for fandom posts, these thieves would be out of gas.

11. Fan translators are not obligated to answer to any of their readers when it comes to why they translated something a certain way. You don’t like it or don’t agree with it, simply ignore, close the tab and go find another translation you like, it’s that simple. Nowadays readers 1. Threaten/Diss the translator directly and rudely 2. Steal the work 3. Add their own spin on it without understanding the original content and say: Yay! Look at this I made it so much better so give me some attention

*****

The point of this post is not to claim ownership over any fandom or content just because translators or Chinese-speaking/reading people in the fandom know the content better. It’s also not to say that non-Chinese speaking/reading people can’t enjoy, understand, have great discussions over original Chinese content, because just from MDZS alone you can see that they can. Of course there are also individuals who might not be able to speak the language but are familiar with Chinese culture etc. because they’ve studied or lived it well, or maybe they’ve actually watched decades of Chinese drama to be able to analyse it properly now, all that’s awesome.

Also, I’m all for people who are learning Chinese (or any language for that matter) to translate something as practice. That’s great, that’s good, that’s to be admired!!

It’s non-Chinese speaking/reading people who claim they know the original content better than translators without any discussions, claiming some superiority over the content because they think the translation is not done well enough without doing any of the ground work that I really have an issue with (and also the fuckers who steal of course XD).

*****

And unfortunately I had too much time on my hands today and got pissed off after seeing the tweet so some of you have to read through this drivel XD

#translations #guardian #mdzs #rambles #stealing #again XD #not me this time #but then again i keep seeing my stolen shit so it's pent up anger #HAHAHAHA #you'd think i would have learnt #but i also think it's important to get angry each time it happens #even if it's tiring and futile?#if in 100 complaints only 1 gets answered #then that's 1 less mofo and thief who got away #you know?#idk sometimes

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joonietonin · 4 years

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Ethan Ramsey- Sugar & Ice (Analysis #2)

Hi! I’m back with another in-depth analysis about Chapter 5 and well, I am very very late! Sorry, it took me so long to write this up, I had been sick these past few days. Anyway, something that I am always in awe of, is how well-written a character, Ethan Ramsey is? I do not think there is another character/LI who has even come close to the amount of depth and progression that Ethan has had over the last few chapters and of course, throughout Book 1. So here I am analyzing Ethan all over again because, damn, this man has had the best character development in the Choices universe. Hold on tight because this is gonna be a longgggggg ride. (Literally, it's the longest post I have ever written so far!)

Note: This is an analysis based on my thoughts and interpretation of a character owned by Pixelberry Studios. My MC is female, pronouns: she/her. I will be writing this post from her perspective. If your MC is male or non-binary, I request you to change the pronouns accordingly. I will be working towards bettering my writing skills using they/them pronouns. English is not my primary language, kindly pardon my mistakes.

Taglist: @choicesyouplayandmore @freeasafishinthesea @openheart12 @junehiratas @lion-ess24 @junggoku @silverlitskies @paulfwesley @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @reaverisabitch @binny1985 @binny1985 @desmaranj @lilyvalentine @soft-for-drake @mangoruby @mrsmatsuo

Let's start off how interesting it is that the first time I wrote about this man, it took me 13 chapters to really assess his depth and development and now in Book 2, it barely took 2 Chapters to provide a in-depth analysis. Yes, character development is key but the time span within which one grows is equally important.

• Ethan, then and now: Ethan, with his hardass, no bullshit and stoic persona is a man with strong opinions. And rightfully so, a person who is around 8-9 years your senior is bound to have more experience- be it in their professional field or their general life experiences. Ethan has always had this strong set of beliefs that were impossible to change, unless you were MC of course. Before Ethan even knew what was happening, MC had already started to infiltrate his steel walls going right towards his heart. MC may be a dumbass but she’s not illogical. I believe that her straightforwardness has always been the reason for Ethan to be drawn towards her. Throughout his whole career, he has only seen these insipid, incompetent people sucking up to him expecting that they would step up in their career. Then came MC, who was never afraid to go against the rules if it meant the well-being of her patients. She proved to him that she was indeed the “someone who could be great, truly” as Ethan had told her in Chapter 5 of Book 1. Ethan supported her at all instances because he had so much of faith in her, even if he did not show it outright.

• MC, a silver lining: For MC, Edenbrook was never entirely about money. So when Ethan tells her about the government deciding to cut down costs of Edenbrook, depending upon your interaction, the last thing MC is worried about is money. Since then she has done everything in her power to prevent that from happening. When that didn’t work, she discovered another path that could potentially save the hospital.

• To be or not to be, morality edition: And even though she anticipated what Ethan would think about the idea, she still took her chances to let Ethan know about this opportunity that could probably put Edenbrook back in the top ranks. And obviously, the hardass Ethan refused. But what’s interesting here is how calmly Ethan reacted. He did not shout, he did not jeer at her. He responded calmly with a simple no. Even when a furious MC charged him for the reason to refute her idea, he simply said that it would ruin the actual purpose of the diagnostics team- which was never meant to cater the rich, rather help those who were truly in need. And even though his intentions were morally correct and heartfelt, MC knew that this wasn’t the time to play with a moral compass.

• Ethan, the "professional": So MC did what she always does: go beyond the rules. She did what Ethan had once told her- “to stand up for what’s right”. So she went behind Ethan’s back and contacted the Instagram celeb Gwyneth Paltrow Monroe and Ethan was obviously furious when he found the whole camera set up in the hospital. And what seems like forever, Ethan regards her as 'Rookie' but this time it is not endearing. MC tries to justify her actions but Ethan, in his classic Dr. Ramsey style, shuts her out and tells her that they had more pressing matters in their hands aka the patient. But, but.. he does not shut her out completely, he says “We’ll talk about this later.” Now if this were the old Ethan Ramsey he wouldn’t have bothered even once to hear anybody’s justification for a matter of fact. But now, Ethan wants to listen to her. He wants to work out their differences. He does not want to leave this matter hanging. He does not want to cut her off due to professional disagreements. Even though Ethan claims that there is nothing but professionalism between them but his actions contradict his words. His actions show that he is truly trying to make things work between them. Ethan might say it's purely professional but I do not believe him one bit (lol).

• Ethan Ramsey is really a softie huh: Even though Ethan is super annoyed at the entire situation, somewhere down the line, he does believe that MC can handle this. He tells her to lead the case. And of course, his snarky remarks are back but this time it's for poor Gwyneth. In an earlier analysis I had stated how Ethan's snarky remarks towards MC had lessened significantly and it still holds true. Instead of berating MC for going behind his back, he handles it with a certain amount of softness. Well, at least when we compare it to how he deals with others in the same situation. So what I really want to say is: Ethan Ramsey is a softie, but only for MC.

• Diligence- 1 Annoyance-0: He is very annoyed and is willing to solve this case as immediately as possible but that does not make him indifferent towards the case. His annoyance does not make him lack diligence. He still gives his 100% towards this case. This shows how diligent Ethan is. No wonder, he's the best diagnostician in the country. He treats all his patients with the same reverence even if some (read: most) get on his nerves. Ethan seems like a cold person with no emotions but the truth is that he cares so much about certain people. The biggest reason Ethan was so annoyed by this high profile case was because the diagnostics team lost a chance to cure a underprivileged patient who needed the help much more than Gwyneth. Despite being a filthy rich person himself, he is not a snob. He has so much concern for the people who cannot afford good healthcare. He cares deeply about the regular people of his community. Yet, that does not make his shy away from his duties towards his current patient.

• Just millennial things: Going back to my previous point, Ethan is really diligent towards his work even if it means doing things he absolutely loathes... like social media. I mean, yes he hasn't seen IT. Yes, he hates texting. Yes, he is technologically impaired. Yes, he does not know how to sign up for Instagram despite being one of the best doctors in the entire world who could cure almost anything. So who does he turn to? MC, obviously. Do we really think he'd ask anybody else in this entire world to help him out with social media. Oh hell no. (Yes, I'm trying to say that MC is special) And cue: the playful banter is back. Something I always relish about Ethan × MC scenes is that their playful banter never stops no matter how tense things are between them. It's some married couple shit right there. From "I'll have you know, I'm only 37. I'm technically a millennial" to "To be clear, we're doing this under one condition. You never speak of it to anyone", let's just say Ethan Ramsey does not share that comfort level with anybody else in this entire world than MC. MC is truly 'the one' for him.

• Ethan and the internet: So here's a two part horror story, the Ethan Ramsey edition- Ethan is terrified of the internet. He does not understand how there are shirtless pictures of him on the internet. Yet, it is really wholesome how we get to know the backstory of most of those pictures. Be it wearing a suit to the A.M.A where he was awarded or when he went shirtless for his first triathlon. It's very very cute that he willingly share these little details about his life. He wants MC to know little things about him. He wants her to be a part of his life even if he claims that there is nothing but professionalism between them (yeah, right) He opened up about how much he loved living in Providence and how he would never have liked any other place for growing up. He revealed his vulnerabilities to MC about how people did not take him seriously and how adults and teachers who undermine him. He trusts MC enough to confide in her and letting her know all these small details which, perhaps, nobody knows except her. Not even Naveen, I presume. Also, please note how a major part of all the information we know about Ethan is because of his Dad. But Ethan willingly sharing details about him to MC? chef's kiss

• Music, Motorcycles and Marriage: Initially Ethan does not understand the point of social media and why so many people would use this "junk". But when MC explains to him how social media helps people connect or how fun it could be for so many people, Ethan does not retort her. He takes and minute to think about her perspective and then accepts with her view. While choosing his interests, we get to know very fond and personal details about Ethan no matter which option we chose.

While talking about Music, Ethan mentions his childhood memories of playing the cello and how his neighbour hated it and broke his cello and also gives a hint towards his mischievous side and the incredible revenge he got on his neighbour.

The Motorcycle was absolutely beautiful. Ethan let's MC know that the first time he took a bike ride was in Brazil (Amazon Rainforest) where he had gone to... well, in layman's terms- get over MC. As eloquent as he is, he describes all the emotions he felt as he rode across his bike along the Amazon River. It's a rare occurrence to see Ethan talk about his feelings therefore it is really wholesome that he would share those intricate details with MC. But the best part of this option had to be when MC demands Ethan to take her on a bike ride in the Amazons some day. Now, for a man who claims that him and MC are "reset" and are "nothing but professionals", it's quite hilarious but very cute that he replied with, "I look forward to it" This statement of his is almost like a foreshadowing of his and MC's future. Even though they're in a tough spot right now, they could always look forward to the future where things might (read: will) change for them.

The option Marriage led to a low-key romantic moment between him and MC. Ethan "love is just neurochemical responses to heightened stress and frequent exposure to each other" Ramsey obviously tells her that he understands marriage as a partnership rather than a meaningful institution. He also states that he does not believe in the concept of soulmates because there is no biological basis to support that. MC simply explains to him that, "It's love, Ethan. It doesn't have to make sense." And Ethan, in his classic 'everything has a scientific explanation' way grins and states, "I'm sorry, no, everything has to make sense." He straight up asks MC the age old question: "How are you supposed to know that you've met the right person?" And almost immediately his smug mouth is shut when MC simply replies with a "I guess, you just feel it. Isn't that biology?" He gazes deeply into her eyes and forgets himself for a moment thinking about how relevant her words are to whatever he feels for her.Deep inside, Ethan knows that he has met the right person, rather THE person.What I'm trying to say is- Yes, Ethan knows that they are soulmates and even though he won’t accept it now but man, he is whipped.

• Ethan's first, last and only: It's adorable that Ethan let's MC make his first post on behalf of him. MC might be the only person in this entire world who has so much hold over Ethan. It is funny because Ethan is MC's boss in the streets but MC in Ethan's boss in the sheets when it comes to personal moments. I think the highlight of the scene was definitely when Ethan follows MC on Instagram. She jokes about it claiming,"Wow, what an honour, I'm humbled." but Ethan deadass let's her know,"You should be. My first, last and only Instagram friend." Again, I think it's a subtle foreshadowing of their future. In real life, technically MC truly one of Ethan's best friends besides being a LI. But I think this statement will hold much more meaning in the future, given the fact that somewhere deep inside Ethan does know that him and MC are soulmates, no matter how much he denies it.

• True feelings and acceptance: We all know Ethan is not the one to back down on his opinions. But often more than not, he really does give a thought about MC's actions and always tries to understand her perspective of it. Yes, it does take him some time to come around but he always comes back to her. When MC tries to justify her actions this second time, Ethan cuts her off- not because he does not want to hear it, but because he has finally understood her point of view.

Another very important detail in this scene, personally my favourite detail, is how this time around he addresses MC by her name. At the start of the chapter he addressed MC as 'Rookie' which symbolised his disappointment over what he feels is a mistake on MC's part. He establishes his seniority over her letting her know that him and MC are not equals. This second time around, he addresses her by name because he has finally come around to understand that MC is really not a 'rookie' anymore. She isn't a resident either. Ethan now saw her as a colleague, someone who was his equal.. his peer.

Ethan rarely accepts his mistakes, because let's be real, this man was practically emotionally inept before MC came around. The whole concept of apology and acceptance is complicated for him. But he is not worried to own up to his mistakes in front of MC. Ethan let's her know that they are bound to disagree over things because they were peers. Knowing her thoughts, even if they contradicted his, helped Ethan see MC in a truer light. When MC worries whether that light is a bad one, he is quick to reassure her that it is a 'complicated' one. This mirrors his feelings about their relationship too, how he can never be entirely professional with her neither could he ever give her the love and warmth he wants to. He tells MC that her perspective does help him to see situations as they really are instead of what he perceives them to be. He ends this declaration of his feelings with, "I want to know you, as you are." My heart goes warm thinking about how much he cares for her and how he'd rather have disagreements with her than force her to be something that she is not. He wants her be just the way she is. He wants to know the real MC, the one who does not shy away from doing what's right rather than doing what's moral and ethical.

• MC x Ethan, the unstoppable force: Lastly, can we all agree that MC and Ethan make a hell of a great team? Even if we put their love life aside, they just absolutely smash it out of the park when it comes to them solving cases together. As they sit together researching about their patient, we see how well coordinated they are. It's almost like, each one knows exactly what the other person is thinking. They are like medical Jedis. Ethan always worries about how if they were to pursue a real relationship, it would be hard for him to push her to do her best.. but the truth is right in front of us. Despite their playful banters, stolen glances, innocent touches and plans about their future, Ethan always pushes MC to evaluate the information and reveal the diagnosis. It would take Ethan 2 minutes to do it himself but as her mentor he constantly helps her get better at providing fast diagnosis. Also, Ethan never ever shies away from giving MC her due credit and appreciation. Getting praise from Ethan Ramsey is very very rare but for MC it's like a usual occurrence, not because they have feelings for each other rather because Ethan truly sees the amount of potential MC has and it reassures him that he was right when he chose MC for Edenbrook knowing that she had the potential to be someone great. While revealing the diagnosis with June and Baz, he proudly let's them know,"MC pieced it together last night. Excellent work." He is honestly like a proud husband showing off how amazing his wife is (lol)

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FINAL THOUGHTS: Sooooo.. let's re-evaluate:

✓ Ethan and MC are very very close on a personal level no matter how much Ethan tries to deny it.

✓ MC is literally Ethan's closest friend. He shares little details about him to her, only her.

✓ Ethan does not shut MC out like he did in Book 1. He tries to understand her and thinks about her point of view.

✓ Ethan and MC have continuous playful banter which makes them look like a whole ass married couple but whatever.

✓ Ethan considers MC to be his equal rather than a subordinate. That is HUGE coming from Mr. Broody Ramsey. He has a lot of respect for MC.

✓ Ethan pushes MC to do her very best despite of them being personal and contradicting their original deal of being professional.

✓ Ethan proudly let's others know about how amazing MC is at what she does.

So, what I am trying to say is: If they are equals, and they work together like two peas in a pod, and the have the cutest most playful relationship, and they respect each other so much, and they are fulfilling every aspect of their mentor/mentee relationship— SO WHEN THE FUCK ARE THEY GONNA REALIZE THAT THEY CAN STILL DO ALL OF THIS WHILE PURSUING A RELATIONSHIP. @ Ethan sweetie, you're one of the smartest men on the planet but you're really so dense when love is involved. I live for the angst but I just want to see my babies being officially domestic and have passionate sex like they did in Chapter 15 (no shit that was THE BEST, read x) yeah that's all, maybe even save the hospital and punch Declan again while they're at it. Ethan and MC are really have the most realistic depiction when it comes to work relationships. Whether Ethan believes it or not— I, for one, am certain that Ethan and MC are truly soulmates and are meant to be. Professionally AND Personally.

Why did I title this as Sugar and Ice?

Because just like ice Ethan is cold,harsh and stoic when it comes to dealing with regular people. But when it comes to people he really cares about and loves (read: MC) he is like sugar- warm, gentle and open.

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Not to be a cheesy romantic, I'm still a cynic but Ethan is an exception. Andddddd we're done. If you have reached up till here then wow, I cannot believe that you would actually take the time to read my thoughts about a character. You don't know how much that means to me. It makes me feel like I am creating some worthwhile. Thank you for all the constant love and support y'all have given me. I am truly so grateful to each one of you.❤️

Also, yes I know Chapter 6 is out and this is an analysis of Chapter 5 but believe me, I you've read this you'll figure out that nothing that happened in today's chapter contradicts my thoughts about Ethan in the previous chapter. I will start working on an analysis for Chapter 6 tonight itself. Just need some time to process all of it. Thank you for always being so patient. I appreciate it so much.❤️

This was a very long post and believe me I tried to cut it short as much as possible. Let's just say I really cannot write short pieces lmao. So yes, thank you for taking out your valuable time to read this. Sending my gratitude and love.❤️

[If you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know as I will be writing some more stuff in the days to come. All my works are sorted in my MASTERLIST. The link is in my bio.]

#open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #open heart 2 #choices: open heart #dr ethan ramsey #mc x ethan #mc x ethan ramsey #bee's analysis

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thecreepiestcarrie · 4 years

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#JusticeforJohnnyDepp: Johnny’s witness statements at a glance (Kevin Murphy & Kate James)

Things I Cover in this Post:

AH’s consumption of alcohol and prescription pills

AH consistently lying/submitting false documents in order to get what she wants

the dogs in Australia

AH lying to Homeland Security

AH’s abuse of Johnny (both verbal and physical)

the shit in the bed

AH bullying/threatening/intimidating members of Johnny’s staff

The two witness statements I’m including highlights from come from: Kate James- personal assistant to AH for a little under 3 years & Kevin Murphy- Johnny’s estate manager for 8 years, ending in 2016

Before we get into that, I would really love it if you could check out and sign this petition that is demanding an official review into the misconduct of the judge for this case, Andrew Nicol.

It’s a lot of talk about the illegal smuggling of the dogs into Australia, which could definitely come off as tedious af, but I feel this is an excellent demonstrator of the character of Scum and how she tries to manipulate/control all those around her. That is mostly what this instalment is going to be about, employees speaking to the character of Scum and her non-existent relationship with the truth.

Beginning with a woman who worked as assistant to Scum, so Scum was paying her, you would think her loyalty would be to her employer, the person she was working for and spending lots of time with. Well, nope, coz Scum is exactly that - SCUM.

More of Scum bullying/belittling Johnny. But I mainly included this part so we could take a look at Kate’s account of Scum drinking ‘vast quantities’ of wine each night. Johnny recounted in his witness statements of his ‘difficult’ relationship with drink and drugs, including visits to rehab facilities in order to get sober. He talks specifically of March 2015, in Australia (when she mutilated his finger), saying: Under the stress of the situation, I poured myself a glass of vodka and drank it. It was with this glass that I broke my sobriety. Kate was fired by Scum (actually blindsided is how she put it) in Feb of 2015, so the testimony of her buying non-alcoholic beer for Johnny holds up to me.

Before I started reading properly into this case, I was nervous to properly research into it because I was thinking that I would read something about Johnny that I didn’t like and I was terrified that I’d never come back from that. 12 years of my life- loving, idolising, being inspired by this man- I didn’t want that to end in a blazing burn of ‘wow, what a shithead, I can’t believe that’s what I dedicated time/money/energy to’. But halleloo, he is everything I’ve always hoped he was and potentially more. So I included this section not just as a ‘wow, Johnny is the greatest’, but also, Scum’s assistant failing to see any signs of injury, which is just another voice to add to the booming chorus at this point.

Here we have Scum wilfully and knowingly breaking laws for her own benefit.

Here is the photo that was submitted as part of Kate’s evidence. It isn’t super clear but I’ve highlighted the date, as well as some of the flowery language Scum employs to portray herself as so much better than she is and just going over the top with that.

This is a check Kate submitted in her evidence. To me, the signature doesn’t seem to match the one on the document from Scum. But what is important about this check is the name: Savannah McMillian, the fact that it’s from the Bank of America and the date, of September 2014, which is the same month of Scum’s false document (if you zoom in).

There is no chance in Hell that Savannah was just a friend of Scum’s visiting America for a magical trip. No ma’am, no Pam. I also wanted to include a screenshot provided by Kevin Murphy of an email from Savannah, in which she specifically introduces herself as Scum’s assistant. So here is another lie to add to her list (is there even any room on the tally board anymore?)

‘She felt that she was above the law’

Hmm, what does that remind me of? Oh right, the symptoms/signs of antisocial personality disorders aka SOCIOPATHIC BEHAVIOUR! Referring back to Mayo Clinic, they describe: a disregard for right/wrong, arrogance/sense of superiority, unnecessary risk-taking, failure to consider negative consequences/learn from them, consistent irresponsibility and so on and so on.

She’s lied and perjured herself in the past - why wouldn’t she continue to lie to get what she wants? aka- this whole hoax against Johnny.

Grease? Calm down sweetie, you’re not in the mob. Just say bribe.

GREASE ME UP, WOMAN!

Anyway, let’s move along to Kevin Murphy, a man who worked with Johnny for 8 years and had to deal with a lot of Scum’s shit.

Here we have Johnny telling a member of his staff about the physical abuse he was being subjected to - why didn’t Scum do the same and tell members of her team? Oh right, because it never happened to her.

Kevin was very involved with all of the dog smuggling bullshit and it became a personal matter for him. All of this could’ve been avoided... If not for Scum’s selfishness.

She threatened him and his job and then tried to place all of the legal blame of the smuggling onto him.

Again, I wanted to touch on Scum’s use of alcohol and even drugs. I wanted to be fair to Scum in this, maybe she was using Provigil under a prescription, just like Johnny and his Roxicodone. So I did some digging and I found that yes, Provigil does require a prescription.

But, from what I could gather from my reading, you can get some over the counter substitutes that have a lower dosage.

But no.2, I found a website where you can purchase Provigil.

I took the liberty of adding it to a cart and selecting checkout. I took all of the steps up to the point where I’d have to pay and guess what? Not once was I asked to provide any details of a GP or of a prescription.

Again, to be fair to Scum, I checked to see if you could also get Roxicodone on this website and guess what?

No, no you can’t.

I don’t intend for this to be taken as conclusive evidence in any way, but it was something that I found interesting.

I really wish they had gotten it DNA tested.

Scum told three different versions of this shit in the bed story-

shit? What shit? There wasn’t any shit in the bed

Yeah, lol, there was shit in the bed, just a harmless prank, got ‘im!

It was the dogs the whole time

And then she projects onto Kevin the fact that she lied, because that’s what she loves to do. She takes her own behaviour and applies it to other people to get them in trouble. This indicates to me that she knows her actions are wrong, but I guess she just thinks she can always find a way to get out of it.

Is she a child? Is she an actual infant? Is she a fucking child?

He had to go and tell 8 other members of their/Johnny’s team to make sure she wouldn’t misbehave and then she went and did it anyway! Is she a child?! It’s like she’s a fucking kid who the Dad has to tell the babysitter that ‘no, she isn’t usually allowed candy, please don’t give her any’ and then the babysitter catches her with a stash of candy anyway! It’s pathetic!

Johnny didn’t want the dogs to come at all and yet, he’s the one who bore most of the brunt over here in the media. And still does, if you refer to this incident, it’s not her dogs, it’s Johnny Depp and his dogs that he snuck in to the country that pissed off the government.

She had this man believing he was going to lose his job because he was trying to correct a legal wrong that she had knowingly committed.

And here she is making a joke about it, on her own fucking Instagram. She had someone take that photo, typed out the caption and decided: ‘yep, this is something I can stand behind, this is fine, this is great content’ and posted it to the world.

Here we go again with another example of that sociopathic behaviour, with her showing a complete lack of remorse and a lack of empathy over the damage this did to the other people involved.

I hope this has helped to provide a greater insight into the type of person Scum is, how manipulative, ruthless and uncaring she is to any/all of the people around her when she’s in pursuit of a goal. I also hope this has helped to shed more light on Scum and her habits with alcohol and pills, which she doesn’t want you to know about, of course. It’s kinda hard for her to consistently call Johnny an addict when she clearly cracks into the goon sack a fair amount herself.

#justice for johnny depp #Johnny Depp #johnny depp is innocent #i stand with johnny depp #johnny depp is a survivor #Amber Heard #get amber heard fired #anti amber heard #amber heard is scum #amber heard is an abuser #amber heard is a liar #johnny depp vs the sun #johnny depp vs dan wootton #i read through the court documents so you don't have to

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fanforthefics · 5 years

Note

Bennguin Animal husbandry for the 5+ headcannons 8D

1) Tyler is the big city slicker sent to the country to lay low during his scandal. It’s not a big scandal, he’s only minorly famous for being rich and hot on Instagram, but like, maybe he said some shit and did some shit that got caught on camera and his mom told him, very nicely but in her most Disappointed tone, that it would probably be good if he lay low for a while, just until her latest deal goes through. Tyler doesn’t actually want to fuck things up, even if it’s bullshit how much of a fuss everyone’s making about some partying and some admittedly badly phrased tweets, so he goes. It’s not like they don’t have the internet everywhere, and the dogs will be there so that’s what’s important.

The town he goes to is a little town in the middle of nowhere, which is about as close as Tyler gets to figuring out the geography. His mom knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy, and then Tyler’s driving up to an honest to god ranch, through some pastures that are filled with cows.

Gerry pops his head up, barks out the window at one of them. The cow does not react. “Yeah, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Tyler agrees. Or maybe the point is they are. Where did his mom even send him?

Where she sent him, he sees on the sign when he turns in the drive, is the Star Ranch. And who she sent him too, he sees, when he gets out of the car and rings the bell, the dogs tugging excitedly on the leashes to explore, is a big man about Tyler’s age, with eyes as big and brown as the cows, and who looks far more surprised to see Tyler than Tyler is to see him.

“Hi, I’m Tyler Seguin,” Tyler says.

“Yeah, I know,” the dude mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair, then straightens. Tyler can’t help but look. His shirt’s loose, but damn. “I’m Jamie Benn, my family owns the place. Come on in.” He steps aside, still looking awkward. This...doesn’t bode well. But Tyler can make it work, he figures. There have to be some views around here for some good Insta posts. And at least the dogs will be happy.

2) To say Jamie’s happy to have a...lodger, at the ranch, is an overstatement. He gets why, and the money they’re getting for Seguin’s room and board is plenty welcome--they’re a small operation and money’s always tight--but to say Jamie’s awkward with new people is an understatement. Jordie always gives him shit when he says that, says he just needs to work at it, but Jamie doesn’t see why he should. He’s fine with the cows, with the employees on the farm, and at the market where they sell, and Jenny and Jordie can handle all the rest of the marketing and sales.

But it’s not like he doesn’t want Seguin to fit in. And, as Jenny had said, when they were talking it over, Seguin’s got more Instagram followers than Jamie can conceive of, so anything he says about the farm will be great publicity. The east coast hipsters, she says, are a vast but untapped market.

So he tries. He greets Seguin’s dogs, who seem pretty great and make Jamie laugh as they all try to lick his face, then shows them around, to the room where Seguin’ll be staying, around the house, whatever. It’s getting late to go around the grounds, and Seguin-call-me-Tyler-no-seriously had a long drive today; he doesn’t want to press. Tyler doesn’t ask, thougn he does look around at everything curiously, like it’s all alien to him. Jamie guesses it might be, for a kid who grew up in the city. It’s all Jamie’s ever known.

Still, it’s a relief when Jordie comes back in, so he can take over the conversation. He has Tyler chattering over dinner, about his drive and the dogs and his home and the Canucks and whatever else comes to mind. It’s nice, to have the noise; it’s always quieter when Jenny’s away, and Jamie and Jordie spend too much time together to talk too much. Tyler doesn’t seem to have that problem; Jamie can see why he’s so popular online, in the city. He’s pretty clearly making an effort, but that doesn’t stop the magnetic charm from working.

It probably helps that he’s got that ridiculous body and that smile and those curls that are like an invitation for someone’s fingers to tangle in them, and he clearly knows all those things. He flirts with Jamie and Jordie indiscriminately, and when Spezza comes in from the barn to tell them that he’s heading home for the night, Tyler flirts with him too.

After dinner, they clean up, and chat a little longer, then, Jordie stretches to head upstairs. “Night, then,” He says. Tyler makes a shocked face.

“Already?”

Jamie snorts, and Jordie grins. “Sun’s down, city boy. And we wake up early here.”

“Oh.” Tyler still looks gobsmacked.

“You don’t have to,” Jamie says, taking pity on him and the horror on his face, and only laughing a little. “Though the cows might wake you up anyway.”

“No rooster?” Tyler asks, rallying impressively. Jordie chuckles, ruffles Jamie’s hair, then heads upstairs with another good night.

It’s silent, for a long, long moment. Tyler’s just watching him.

“He also has to call his girlfriend,” Jamie offers. “That’s why, um. It’s early even for us.”

“Thank god.” Tyler grins. Jamie nods, but he doesn’t have anything to say either, so he gets up to go to bed too, after telling Tyler where the TV is and how the remote works and that shit. Tyler waves him away, but. He looks kind of alone, in the big kitchen all by himself, and very out of place.

3) Tyler spends three days almost always in his room. Or at least, Jamie thinks so; he’s in his room except for meals when Jamie’s in the house, anyway, and he doesn’t see him much around the ranch, except for when he’s running with the dogs. When he’s not in his room, he’s wandering around the house or the yard, fidgeting like a dog who can smell the rain.

He’s not getting in the way or anything, but Jamie still only lasts until the fourth day before he knocks loud on Tyler’s door, as the sun rises outside.

It takes him a few minutes, but then the door opens, and Tyler’s sleepy face pokes out. “Is something on fire?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his face. Jamie swallows, because Tyler sleep-rumpled is a sight, but then,

“Get dressed,” he says. “You’re helping out today.”

“I’m what?” Tyler asks, blinking. Not like he’s refusing, just like he doesn’t get it.

“You’re going to learn how a farm works,” Jamie tells him. “Come on, milking waits for no man.”

Tyler blinks, then shuts the door.

Jamie mostly expects for that to be the end of it, but five minutes later Tyler’s got jeans and an old Leafs t-shirt on, and he’s scrubbing water off his face. “Okay,” he says, looking determined. “Let’s go.”

So they do. Jamie takes him around the farm with him, introduces him to the hands and shows him how things are done. Tyler’s green, but he’s not stupid, and he asks questions and he touches the animals with the right amount of gentle firmness, and Jamie’s not going to think about that.

They’re finishing off feeding the sick cows in the barn when Esa comes over, to talk with Jamie about the fence in the back pasture.

“You finish up here,” Jamie tells Tyler, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “I’l come back when I’m done.”

Tyler stares at him, like he’s never heard that before. “Just—finish up? With this?”

“You’ve got the hang of it.” He’s been good so far. “I’ll be right back.”

“Um, yeah.” Tyler gives him a little salute, which makes Jamie chuckle. When he comes back from dealing with Esa, the cows are all fed, and Tyler’s looking at him, a little nervous and a little proud.

“Looks good,” Jamie tells him, and Tyler grins. Jamie can’t look at that grin for long.

They finish up the day, then go back in to shower before dinner. Before they go inside, though, Tyler catches his arm.

“Hey. Thanks. For this. I know I slowed you down, but—“

Jamie shrugs. “Looked like you needed something to do. And training only speeds people up in the long run.”

Tyler smiles again, then glances away for a second. “I thought you didn’t like me,” he admits, with a twist to his lips.

“Why?” Jamie doesn’t get it. He doubts anyone ever dislikes Tyler who’s met him.

“Because you didn’t talk to me?” Tyler says, with a self-deprecating laugh. “And wouldn’t look me in the eye?”

“Nah, that’s just Chubbs,” Jordie says, coming out of the office to throw an arm around Jamie. “I told you, he takes a while to settle in. How was your first day at the office?” He asks Tyler, and Tyler lights up again, talking about it.

Jamie slips away to shower as he does. There’s only so much of Tyler’s grin that a man can take.

4) It all spirals quickly, after that.

Tyler would like to say that he isn’t to blame. He’s only human, and he’d like to see the person who could see Jamie Benn hand-feeding a calf and not fall for him hard and fast. Or see him pitching hay, his shirt sticking to his broad chest as he worked in the sun. Or see him with the other employees, leading everyone like he’s forgotten he’s supposed to be shy and awkward. Or see how excited he gets about organic farming and all the sustainable changes they’ve made to the farm (that he’s made, Jordie tells Tyler, as Jamie pretends he isn’t listening; apparently it’s been Jamie’s baby). Or watched a baseball game with him, seen him yell at the screen and get flushed and hyped about it. Or just—seen Jamie, who looked at Tyler and saw what he needed, who didn’t hesitate to trust him with the things he loved most. Not a lot of people have trusted Tyler, historically.

And Brownie can go suck it, if he thinks this is just that Tyler usually falls hard and fast. Jamie’s different. Jamie’s not one of the charming people back in the city, all flirting and hard edges and fast times and fun. Jamie’s. Different, is all Tyler can say, and if Brownie doesn’t believe him, whatever. Tyler knows what’s up.

And for a while, it’s just sort of fun, in a hopeless sort of way; Tyler watches Jamie and banters with him and Jamie warms up, slow and sure. It’s sort of nice, actually; Tyler feels like he earned every time Jamie laughs at him, every time Jamie rolls his eyes and flips him off when he tries to sneak a picture of him framed by the morning light. It makes him feel special, that Jamie trusts him with that. And it just feels good, to make Jamie smile.

It also feels good to see Jamie squirm, which is why Tyler asks, at the bar Jamie took him to to meet up with some of his friends to give Jordie the house for the evening for a date night with his girlfriend, “So he was a big shot in high school?”

The guy Jamie had introduced as Tyson but who had corrected Jamie that it was T-Beauty laughs, as Jamie rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Tyson says, grinning mischievously at Jamie. “Shoulda seen him. Baseball, hockey—this guy was the shit.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie retorts, but he’s blushing in the good way. “It was all a team effort.”

“Sure, mon capitan.” Tyson salutes. Tyler laughs as Jamie shoves him almost off the stool. “Wow, see if I give you a compliment next time!”

“You compliment everyone, they aren’t worth anything,” Jamie complains, and Tyson scoffs. Tyler watches. It’s nice to see this too, Jamie casual and comfortable and having fun. He’s a little flushed from his few beers, even though they’re kind of shitty beers, and his long legs are stretched out in front of him.

“Fine then. Should we talk about how despite being captain of two varsity teams, you still only just managed to ask Jess Rogers to prom, then?” Tyson asks, and Tyler leans forward.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

“I really think we shouldn’t,” Jamie says. He pushes up from the table. “Another round?”

“Yeah. Whatever their best whiskey is, though, I need some real alcohol,” Tyler tells him, and Jamie makes a face but goes. Tyler is, again, only human, so he watches a little. Jamie’s jeans are not doing him any favors, but it still manages to work.

He starts to dig more about high school Jamie, because that’s definitely a topic he wants to know more about, so he only looks back at the bar to see some guy chatting with Jamie, a guy a little shorter than Jamie wearing flannel and cowboy boots and standing just a little closer in Jamie’s space that Tyler’s seen Jamie be comfortable with before.

“Oh, hey, speak of the devil,” Tyson says, following Tyler’s gaze.

“What?”

“Jess Rogers.” Tyson nods towards the guy. Tyler’s heart thumps. And maybe his dick a little bit. Okay then. “He’s been trying to get back in Chubbs’ pants since high school, but he was kind of a dick. And not in the way Jamie likes.”

“So that’s what Jamie likes? Dicks?” Tyler tries to be casual, but that’s not something he’s particularly good at.

Tyson gives Tyler a look like he definitely failed at the casual. “The literal kind, sure. The metaphorical kind…I’ll leave the shovel talks to Jord, eh? He’s more intimidating than me.”

Tyler reaches out to pay Tyson’s arm. “Don’t sell yourself short,” He tells him, and Tyson laughs.

“I like him, can we keep him?” He asks Jamie, when Jamie gets back. He hands Tyler a drink, and Tyler takes it. When he takes a sip, he let some linger on his lips so he can lick them, keep eye contact with Jamie.

Jamie definitely watches his tongue. “Um, yeah,” he says, just a beat too late. “As long as he’s here.”

5) Subtlety is not Tyler’s game, and what he needs is just to see, so he doesn’t particularly try. He pushes hard into Jamie’s space, he flexes, he flirts hard, and it gets him what he wants—Jamie is definitely looking back. He didn’t notice before, didn’t think there was a reason to, but. He knows how people who want to fuck him look at him, and that’s definitely it.

Or. It’s it. But maybe it’s more? Tyler’s less certain about that look.

Anyway, one step at a time, and Tyler knows how to put his best foot forward, so he waits until they get back to the ranch, after he lets the dogs back in and Jamie feeds them both water. Then he steps forward until Jamie’s back is to the wall, and he could move if he wanted to but it’d take pushing past Tyler.

Jamie’s breath catches, and his eyes widen. “Ty?” He asks, a little quiet. Unsure. Like he thinks he might be reading this wrong.

“No harm no foul if I’m wrong,” Tyler says, and then he kisses Jamie. Jamie’s not surprised for long, and of course he kisses like Tyler thought he might, beneath all the aw shucks Canadian boy exterior—bossy and sure and steady. It’s not the best kiss Tyler’s ever had, probably, technically, but who cares about technicalities when Tyler can bite at Jamie’s lip and hear the noise he makes at that? When Tyler can pull back to see Jamie staring at him, still like he’s confused but also like he’s so, so pleased?

“Um. So. You want—” Jamie starts, and it sounds like it might take him a while, so Tyler takes over.

“Upstairs, Jameson. Unless you want your brother to catch us bare-assed on the couch.”

Jamie snorts, grins. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he says, with that hint of a grin in his eyes, and Tyler laughs incredulously as he tugs Jamie upstairs.

6) Jamie’s days pass in a haze of Tyler. He gets his work done, of course, but—Tyler comes with him around the farm, helps out on his own tasks. Pushes him onto the hay of the barn to kiss him, like Jamie all sweaty really gets him going. Poses for selfies with cows and tries to coax Jamie into them. Works out in the yard when he knows Jamie’s working on accounts in the office with the window with a view. And then when they’re done for the day, it’s just—more Tyler, joking and teasing and snapping his pictures and bugging Jordie and waiting for Jordie to go to bed before pushing Jamie onto the couch and going to his knees.

Jamie’s not a virgin, he’s had sex before. He’s had boyfriends before, and they’ve had very satisfying sex lives. But Tyler’s—it’s pretty clear he’s done a lot of shit Jamie hasn’t thought of, and he’s happy to share the fruits of his experience with Jamie.

But it’s not just that. Tyler’s—he helps out with the calves, and he’s started trying to learn to ride a horse even though he’s laughably bad at it, and he sometimes grabs Jamie’s hand just to play with his fingers, casual and sweeter than Jamie had expected.

Jordie just laughs and rolls his eyes at them when he sees them, because if Jamie had been considering keeping it a secret, that chance was basically gone when he’d come down with a hickey on his neck and Tyler looking very smug. It’s…nice. Working on the farm, coming home to dinner with his brother and Tyler.

“He seems very nice,” Jenny agrees. She’s back in town for a few days, and had, like everyone else, been immediately charmed by Tyler. Now she’s sitting at a booth in the bar with Jamie, watching as Tyler dances with one of the girls there. Jamie would maybe be jealous, but Tyler keeps looking at Jamie, like he’s checking in, and also—Tyler’s really hot when he dances. He dances like he knows everyone’s watching and he loves it.

“He’s going to break your heart.” Jenny doesn’t say it like an accusation. She says it like a fact.

“Yeah.” Jamie’s not stupid. He knows what’s going to happen. Tyler’s a city boy, and he’s still got his Instagram and his twitter he updates all the time and all the friends who keep up blowing up his home and the way he laughs at their run down bar and complains about how there’s no good Chinese food and ordered better sheets online because theirs weren’t soft enough. Tyler’s bright as a star, and about as far away. Jamie knows that. Knows that once everything’s died down, Tyler’s going to go back to the city and forget all about this dull little town. “But it’s good while it lasts.”

Jenny shakes her head. “Jamie—“ she starts, all big sister, but then Tyler’s there, holding out his hands.

“Do you mind if I steal your brother?” he asks Jenny. “Someone said there was going to be a line dance and I need someone to show me how.”

“Oh I am not—“

“Take him,” Jenny says, laughing a little. She catches Jamie’s eye, shrugs. “He’s being modest, he’s good at them.”

“Of course he is, what isn’t he good at?” Tyler asks, and Jamie snorts and rolls his eyes but lets Tyler pull him to the dance floor. It is good, he thinks, Tyler’s hand in his. For as long as he can have it.

7) Tyler doesn’t think about any of that—about the future, about what happens when he goes home. He just thinks about Jamie. He knows he’s playing out of his league here, because he’s a fuck up and Jamie’s—Jamie, steady and grown up and a business owner and all that, but Tyler knows what he’s good at, and he’s definitely got tricks in bed that Jamie’s not used to. Which works out well all around, because Jamie might not be used to them but he can read Tyler’s play like nobody’s business, and he’s learning fast. Tyler’s—worried is the wrong word, but…he’s not entirely sure how he’ll keep tricking Jamie into staying with him, when the sex stops being so novel. Normally Tyler’d buy him shit, or something, but the time Tyler had gotten Jamie some nicer sunglasses Jamie had thanked him, but given him an odd look, and he still wore his old ones.

But for now, Tyler’s…happy. Sure, the ranch is a little quiet, but he likes working with animals, and how he’s getting enough of a hang of the ranch that he actually feels like he’s being helpful sometimes, and hanging out at the bar even with its shitty beer and janky sound system, and he likes Jamie. He lies Jamie a lot.

“Yeah, you’ve said,” Brownie tells him, patient even though Tyler’s told him about Jamie’s thighs a hundred times, probably. Tyler loves his bro. “Are you sure, though? This place looks weird.”

“What do you mean?” Tyler asks, defensive. The ranch is fucking great.

“The pictures on the website make it look like it’s in the 40s, that’s all.” Tyler makes a face, and pulls out his laptop. Brownie’s not wrong.

“Has anyone redone your website in the past forever?” He asks Jamie, knocking on the office door. Jamie looks up from his computer, with the pinched expression he always gets when he’s been thinking about the accounts. Tyler doesn’t want to ask, because it’s none of his business, but he knows what everyone says about farms and how shitty the business is nowadays.

“Um, I don’t know. I think my dad got someone to make it a while ago? We haven’t had the money to hire someone.” Jamie flushes, like he always does when he as to admit to shit like that.

“Bro, you know that like, it’s all about marketing these days, right?” Tyler asks. “Do you even have social media?”

“I don’t know, I think Jenny does—“

“OH, wow, your twitter hasn’t been updated for literal years.” Tyler shakes his head. “Come on, you have adorable animals as your business, how is this nor working?”

“We’ve been busy trying to run a business,” Jamie snaps, that temper of his—slow to rise, but Jamie’s seen him blow up at some teenager who was throwing rocks at the cows—coming in.

“Yeah, right,” Tyler mutters. Obviously this is none of his business. “Clearly I know nothing about that.”

“Fuck, Ty—“ Jamie takes a breath, runs a hand over his face. “I didn’t—I just don’t know about shit like that, okay? Jordie made me shut down my twitter after I did some stupid drunk tweets.”

“Okay, I need to see those, first,” Tyler informs him. “And. Yeah. Okay. So you don’t mind if I take some photos of the calves?”

“No? I don’t see why—“

“Trust me,” Tyler tells him, patting his thigh, and Jamie looks up at him, no hesitation.

“Of course.”

Tyler swallows. It’s so easy. It makes Tyler feel like he deserves it. Like he wants to be the kind of guy who deserves it.

8) Then—Tyler’s mom calls, and says it’s time he can come home.

She calls Tyler, then Jamie separately, to finalize the payments. So Tyler’s already packing when Jamie knocks on his door. Jamie’s not surprised, that he’s getting out of here as fast as he can. He’s just.

Well, he knew what was going to happen, didn’t he?

“So your flight’s tomorrow?” He asks.

“Yeah, bright and early.” Tyler surveys his room. A lot of his shit’s moved to Jamie’s in the past few months, so there’s actually not too much here. “God, I can’t wait to see everyone. Brownie’s been texting me nonstop since I told him, we’ve got so much to catch up on.”

“Right.” Jamie swallows. “Good. I’m glad you get to go home.” He’s not going to be an asshole about this, he’s not.

“And mom got a new dog! She’s got to meet her nephews.”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees, and Tyler turns to look at him. Jamie tries, he really does, but Tyler’s managed to get good at reading him, these past months. His hand comes up, rests on Jamie’s cheek.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” Jamie echoes. “I—fuck it, never mind.” He turns on his heel, to go downstairs, to go out with the animals who don’t leave him behind. Who are his, his land, his town.

“Jamie! Come on, what’s wrong?” Tyler follows him down the stairs. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing,” Jamie says, tight. “Have fun in the city. Maybe think about us when you eat some ice cream, if you use real cream.”

“What?” Tyler’s arms cross over his chest. “Think about you?”

“If you have the time.”

“If I—what the hell?” Tyler demands. “Are you breaking up with me?” He throws it at Jamie, but Jamie’s known him well enough to hear what’s underneath it.

“It’s not—you’re leaving,” Jamie says. It’s obvious.

“Yeah, so? They’ve got things called phones now? And FaceTime?” He’s getting paler, as Jamie shakes his head. “Are you honestly dumping me when you can’t get laid all the time anymore?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Jamie snaps. “I just don’t want to draw out you breaking my heart.”

“So you’re going to break mine now?” Tyler retorts. “Fuck you.”

Maybe this is easier, Jamie thinks. Maybe it is easier like this.

“Fine,” he says, and takes a breath. Straightens. He’s fine here. He’ll be fine again. “Good luck, Ty. I mean it.”

Tyler glares, and Jamie goes outside.

9) He doesn’t see Tyler again before he leaves.

10) Tyler goes home, because fuck Jamie. Fuck Jamie and his ranch and his earnestness and his thinking Tyler would just forget about him. Tyler wishes he could forget about Jamie. He tries. Tyler goes out to a party the second night he’s back, after spending the first with his mom, pretending like she doesn’t see right through him. He goes out and dances and drinks and finds a guy and tells himself he is definitely going to hook up with him. He definitely is, and who cares who might have a camera, who might see and talk about wild, scandalous Tyler Seguin—

Except. Except he can’t help but see Jamie’s face, and of course, and fuck him. Fuck him for ruining this too. Fuck him for making Tyler think he doesn’t need this.

Tyler gets home by 1. He can’t help but notice his mom’s smile, the next morning.

So partying doesn’t work, so Tyler tries something else. It doesn’t take much research to find a shelter, which seems up his alley. And it’s—it is fun, because it’s playing with puppies, and that’s never work, but. It’s not the ranch. It doesn’t have the same feel to it. Tyler’s volunteering, sure, but he’s not—he’s not adding something a five year old couldn’t do. (There’s no Jamie, Tyler knows. That’s the difference. But Jamie hadn’t wanted him in the end, he’d figured out that Tyler wasn’t worth keeping without sex, and that’s. Not unexpected.).

Then Jenny shows up at his door.

“Hi,” he says, too confused not to let her in. Or maybe to resist her pushing her way in. “Yeah, come in.”

She makes it to the entranceway before she turns on him. It’s like a weird dream, having a Benn standing here, in his house. “I told him it was a bad idea,” she says, like they’d started the conversation already. “I told him it would fuck him up, but did he listen to his older, wiser sister? Of course not.”

“What—“

“My brother,” she says, stabbing a finger at him, “Has been miserable.”

It’s a weird mixture of feelings that evokes in Tyler; he never wants Jamie to be unhappy, but there’s a visceral satisfaction in it too. “So?” He manages to ask. “He broke up with me.”

She snorts. “You can’t break something with an end date.”

“We didn’t have an end date he didn’t put on it,” Tyler snaps. She rolls her eyes.

“Come on. Like you were ever planning to stay with him when you were done with us.”

“Of course I was,” Tyler retorts. She rolls her eyes again, all condescension.

“And what, show him off to your fancy city friends? Your hick boyfriend? Sure.” She shakes her head. “We all knew what it meant.”

“Yeah, I’d have introduced my boyfriend,” Tyler says, trying to keep calm. He would have. He—it’s weird enough having Jenny here, he thinks. It’s true. What would Jamie do here? At one of the parties, like last night? He would have. He would have. “What are you doing here, anyway?” He asks, because that’s—too much. “So Jamie’s miserable. I’m doing great.”

She snorts again. “Unlike my brother, I actually have an Instagram, Tyler. Tell me another one.”

“Well what do you want me to do?” He tries again. “If you’re so sure it’ll never work out.”

“I…” she sighs. “You left it on a bad note. I know Jamie feels especially bad about that.” Of course he told her. The Benns don’t keep secrets from each other. “Maybe if you talk…”

“Then he can call me.”

“I tried that. He thinks you’ve already forgot about him.” She shakes her head. “I think he’s just trying to keep it a clean break, for his own sake, but—it’s not really clean. Not like this.” She looks at him again, and she doesn’t have her brother’s eyes at all, but it’s still somehow close. “Look, if you’re actually happy, let it go and he’ll get over it, but—think about it. Maybe it’ll help you both.”

11) She leaves. Tyler thinks about it. About we all knew and breaking my heart and forgot about him. About the shelter and the ranch.

Then it’s a lot, so he goes on Instagram, because that’s easy. That he knows.

Except he scrolls through until he finds a picture he took, the one he managed to sneak of Jamie holding a calf, feeding a bottle. It’s gotten good pick up, and not all because of the guy.

Tyler can’t look away from the guy though, the way he’s holding the calf in his arms, the way his face is caught between laughing irritation at Tyler taking the picture and fondness at the cow. He thought even then that this was only a thing until Tyler left, Tyler thinks. He’d thought it was only for slice of time, and he’d still turned down Tyler’s gifts, still smiled at Tyler like he didn’t want anything else, anything more.

The next picture’s of the ranch too, the sign against a sunset. It’s gotten really good engagement, actually. And a comment, a ‘are they sustainably farmed? Link please!’

Which. Huh. Tyler turns that over. Thinks about it, too.

And makes a choice.

12) Jamie’s hot, and tired, and he needs a good shower after he’d spent the whole day dealing with a sick cow who they’d had to move into the barn. It’s hot, sweaty work, but it’s also the kind of physical work that Jamie’s good at, that keeps his head in the game and not anywhere else. Say, a city thousands of miles away. Where it has no business being.

He’s considering how to escape Jordie’s continued campaign to get him to go out to the bar that night, like hooking up with someone else could wash Tyler away, when he comes into the yard and—Tyler’s there.

Jamie blinks. He doesn’t think heart break causes hallucinations. But—the other options is Tyler is back here, sitting on the stoop in the ranch yard, wearing the jeans and sneakers like he was planning to work and not the designer stuff he had arrived in before. Looking at Jamie like he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Um. Tyler?” Jamie asks, and Tyler scrambles to his feet.

“Hi. Jamie.” Tyler grins, and it’s as big and overwhelming as it ever was.

“What are you doing?” Jamie asks. His heart’s beating loud in his ears. This is the hurt he wanted to avoid.

“Yeah. So. Here’s the thing. You need a marketing person.”

“Tyler—”

“There’s a whole untapped social media market out there, look. I posted a picture and I got like, a dozen requests for a link.” Tyler’s pulling out his phone, like he’s going to demonstrate it, that hint of nervous he’d have when he needed someone to tell him he was doing a good job. “You can really expand here, and—“

“Tyler,” Jamie interrupts again. He’s sure Tyler’s right, this is what Tyler’s good at, but. Jamie feels ripped open. “Why are you here?” He swallows. “I thought you were back home. Not thinking about” me “us.”

“Yeah, funny story.” Tyler’s smile isn’t very amused. “So this guy broke my heart.” Jamie really doesn’t want to hear this.

“Ty—“

“Turns out, he’s got this complex, see. Thinks that he’s forgettable. Like I could ever forget about him.” Tyler shakes his head, tsking his tongue, but he’s not looking away from Jamie.

“You went home.” Jamie knows that, even if Tyler’s back here, with the hot sun on their necks. “You went back to the city. This isn’t your home.”

Tyler takes a second, squaring his shoulders, like he’s gathering courage. Then, “But it could be,” he says, and he sounds—hopeful and trying not to hope at once, like he could be casual. “I—could help out on the ranch, and do the marketing, and—”

“You got bored here for three months,” Jamie cuts him off, before he can start to hope. This place is in Jamie’s bones and blood, but he gets it’s not for everyone. “You couldn’t get back to the city fast enough, I saw—”

“Because I missed people. But that’s what visiting is for.” Tyler swallows again. “I haven’t—I’ve never felt like I could actually be useful, until I came here. Until you trusted me with this. There’s nothing back h—back there, that feels like this. But I can help, and—“

“We can’t pay you.” Jamie feels like he’s throwing things at a wall, but he needs—he can’t. This is too much, too terrifying, too everything he wants.

Tyler smirks, suddenly. “You’ll be able to once I’m done.”

“Tyler,” Jamie says again, because it’s all he can say. “Are you sure?” If he wasn’t—Jamie knows that heartbreak would be so much worse.

Tyler nods, brilliant and bold and reckless. “Can I stay?”

Jamie’s officially done with words, so he grabs Tyler and kisses him instead, and Tyler kisses him back just as desperate, like he doesn’t notice the sweat or the heat or any of it. Like he’s coming home.

#stars fic #stars tumblr fic #my fic #bennguin #things I know nothing about: dairy farming #things I know a lot about: writing these two and turning them into a small town romance #apparently #because that's always what happens #i'm not sure this is exactly what you were expecting but enjoy!#nemorps #izzy answers

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harrysahottie · 5 years

Text

i’m tired

just another angst piece abt H ignoring Y/N that you’ve probably read 100x

Y/N had been treated poorly before, she really had. From a shitty group of friends, to a shitty boyfriend, to shitty parents, she really had been through it all.

Despite the fact that these things hurt, it allowed her to grow a thick skin and recognize how she should and should not be treated.

And how Harry was treating her right now, well, was just shit.

He hadn’t been ignoring her per se, but rather just treating her with pure, unadulterated hostility and antipathy.

She hadn’t known where this sudden hard-nosed side of Harry had come from, but she didn’t like it one bit.

And although Y/N definitely wasn’t one for confrontation, she knew she had waited long enough for this to fizzle out, and it hadn’t, so after a month of Harry treating her worse than she deserved, she planned on trying to talk through his feelings with him.

Just having come back from work, she was tired and definitely not in the mood for a fight, but she knew it was needed to keep their relationship steady.

So when Y/N comes home to Harry in the kitchen, she immediately noticed how he tenses as her presence neared his.

Gathering up the courage too, she inhaled deeply before placing herself behind the counter opposite of him and exhaling the words, “Hey, H, could we talk?”

Not even bothering to look up from his dinner and phone, which he hadn’t even made for Y/N as well, which was unusual for him, since their routine for the last year and a half that they lived together was Harry making the dinner and Y/N cleaning up, since she frequently worked later than he.

Although Y/N tried not to be hurt by this, it did put a little dent in her heart, seeing him so carelessly eating his dinner without her, but what put in even bigger nick in her heart was when he quickly and impassively uttered, “Got things to do Y/N,” and then began to put his plate in the dishwasher before picking up his phone and walking away.

The second time Y/N had tried to bring the topic up again was exactly three days later, and Harry just wasn’t having it.

“Y/N, haven’t you realized that I’m busy?”

He would walk away before she even got a chance to reply. Another little scratch.

The third time she had done it was the day after that, not letting him scare her. She had gotten a similar response of a snide remark leaving his lips before he walked away from his problems. Her heart was dented again.

Week after week she would try to get him to just speak, to her without being cold, but his fog of hostility never seemed to let up, dampening the mood of their shared apartment and relationship all in one. And each and every time, her heart was cut, teared, and chipped off, little by little, again and again.

She was denied cuddles, kisses and even the simple luxury of being able to talk to him was now foreign to her.

And what hurt most was that he was like this only with her, because she had seen photos of him all over Instagram with his friends, and he was seemingly having the time of his life. Hell, he even had his friends come over once or twice and his demeanor changed from icy and stoic, to warm and friendly in a matter of seconds.

Though he wasn’t coming home late, he might as well have, because he wouldn’t even dare be even in the same room as Y/N unless it was time for them to go to bed.

She was tired, she was a resident at the local hospital, working 50, 60, hours a week and on top of all that, she was dealing with a shit boyfriend who didn’t seem to love her anymore.

He didn’t love her anymore. She came upon this conclusion while mulling her brain during her hospital rounds about why the hell Harry had been treating her like this, for the last two fucking months. And her heart shattered.

At first she was a bit upset, wondering what she had done to become unloved by him, and then she got angry, angry at him for not having the fucking decency to tell her how he felt as he felt it, and then she felt acceptance, acceptance about the fact that not every single relationship lasts, and that Harry, albeit being pretty shit recently, was a relatively good boyfriend previous to all of this and she was glad she had been with him.

And then, right then and there, she decided that what they had was obviously over, and worked to grieve the relationship before it officially ended, reminiscing on the good times in which Harry had actually loved her.

So that night, after the usual hours of silence, Harry had finally retired to their shared bedroom where Y/N sat, still in her work clothes, sat at the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing still up?” Harry questioned as he stripped into only his boxers.

The silence from her made him turn, and there he was met with her tired and dreadful looking eyes. She sighed almost nostalgically before letting out, “Isn’t this getting a bit old?”

“What?”

“Harry, just tell me you don’t fucking love me anymore, so we can finally end this sad excuse of a relationship we’ve been having these last two months.”

She had taken his silence as an answer, so Y/N walked over to the suit case she had brought out earlier and began to back some of her essentials. She should’ve packed it before, but there was still a flicker of hope in her heart that thought that maybe, just maybe, Harry had still loved her.

“Y/N, I still—, I still love you.” He finally let out after what seemed like eons of silence.

Y/N giggled, she really did. “Let’s not keep bullshitting ourselves here Harry, you stopped loving me a long time ago, or at least you stopped acting like you even knew me, a long time ago,” she threw a few more pieces of clothing into her suitcase, “I just wish you had the fucking decency to tell me.”

“Y/N—stop.” Harry moved towards her, gently grabbing hold of her wrist, preventing her from grabbing the next items in the draw. “Let’s talk this out, yeah?”

And finally hearing his voice speak two sentences to her after months of radio silence, it set her off, it really did.

“Oh fuck off Harry, I gave you a billion chances to talk this through. So many god damn times, and you want to talk now? You’re speaking to me now?”

“Y/N—“

“How little respect do you have for me that you actually, genuinely think that you can ignore me for almost 3 months and then the second I get the courage to leave, you finally decide to have the spine to hold a conversation with me?”

Before he could cut in again, Y/N quickly cut in again, “You have 2 minutes to explain yourself.”

Y/N continued packing, waiting for Harry to collect himself and answer. But after a considerable amount of time, she looked up to him with a raised brow, “Nothing?”

“I’m—I don’t know.”

Y/N nodded, accepting the fact that she would probably never get a clear answer from Harry.

“You can’t—you can’t just fucking leave. We have to talk this through Y/N, we are gonna talk this through, I just need, I just need time,” Harry sputtered out almost desperately.

“I don’t have to do anything, and I’ve spent the last two months enduring you treating me like shit and giving you time to sort yourself out, and I’m done.”

And with that, she walked away, leaving Harry conflicted and a little tearful.

wrote this like a month ago when i was feeling like an angsty teen wearing thick black eyeliner. it’s kind of shit and needs a lot of editing but i decided to post it anyway, and the ending is quite anticlimactic but 🤷🏻‍♀️.

#harry styles preference #harry styles imagines #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #hardy styles angst imagine #haddy styles angst blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles angst fanfic

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morphituu · 5 years

Text

Milagro

Chapter 2: At Last

Ch. 1 -

A long yawn interrupted his reading of the paper in hand, and he tightened his broad body, pressing as deep as possible into the passenger seat. The briefing was bland as usual, same thing every week. A compiled stack of papers that amounted to possible sightings of Bright’s or wand activity, their locations, dates, descriptions he had to skim over in case anything seemed familiar. It was mind numbing, but if it kept him out of the hole for the incident years ago with Tikka, he’d bear it. His mind might collapse in on itself in the process though.

Activity seemed to have kicked up around the outskirts of LA, but there was nothing to be alarmed about if the paperwork was any say indication of it. If there had been, Nick would’ve been sat in a cramped office with MTF, answering the same questions he’d memorized perfectly in order from all the years of interrogations.

He chuffed silently, rolling a peppercorn from his pasta he’d taken for lunch between his canines.

The last few pages were always dedicated to Tikka and the grave importance of her being apprehended, but still, nothing sparked his interest or alerted him, not even the paragraph where there was a supposed sighting in San Diego. He just couldn’t believe she’d wander back to LA after what happened.

Nick folded the papers and stuffed them in the glove compartment. Everything there he’d heard that morning, anyways.

Instead he scrolled through his phone as he took hearty bites of the pasta, mindlessly looking through Facebook videos and news articles- same shit, different day. Nick rarely liked anything on Instagram; he’d only gotten it so Callie could tag him in the long stream of photos she posted, detailing their everyday life and sometimes the more private aspects. Cautious he was about staring down at his lover in some of the revealing photos while working. Popping a boner was dangerous on the job.

He opened another app, observing where they were that day and grinned before flashing over to message Callie.

Its the size of an apple today

The drivers side door yanked open and another officer climbed in, slamming the door behind himself.

“Chill out,” Nick mumbled, taking another bite but leaving the fork between his teeth, reading her reply.

Really cause i feel like i have an eggplant in me

He smirked. Stick my eggplant in you if you want

“They act like I’m fucking contagious or something,” the younger Orc spat, and Nick snorted.

“Get used to it,”

“No respect- not even for a cop,” he went on, unwrapping his sandwich hotly.

“You’re telling me stuff I already know, kid,” Nick exhaled, stifling a chuckle when Callie responded, Only if you bring me home more cheeeese

“When did they stop harassing you?” the rookie asked, looking at Nick with worried brows. Nick’s head leaned back against the headrest, running his tongue over his filed tusks as he thought it over, but in the end, grinning again.

“When you joined,” Nick smiled sarcastically and his young partner looked down to his sandwich dispondantly. “It gets easier when they get used to you,”

“Or when another Orc joins and carries the burden…” Sergey mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich. Nick nodded indifferently. Sergey was quite young compared to when Nick finally made it into the Academy and onto being an officer, but he had a good heart despite being a little skittish and hot headed at times. His tusks had been filed like Nick’s, but he’d been blooded young- something about resuscitating a toddler at a pool, ah, he couldn’t remember. Not like he could gloat about his own blooding. Either way, it meant most Orcs didn’t chastise him like they had Nick, which in turn made their jobs a little easier.

“It’s bullshit,” Sergey chuffed.

"You wanted to join- that’s on you. What’s bullshit is Heig making us work the afternoon before the banquet,” Nick reasoned, returning to the message.

Im getting a costco bag this time. Does pucca need food?

“You’re going?” Sergey asked, a cheekful of sub.

“We have to go,”

“Oh fuck- Dura is going to kill me. I told her we didn’t have to go,” he griped, holding his head.

“Anytime the LAPD is doing something expect to have to go,”

His phone vibrated in his hand again. Nah she’s good. Im off at 4 today

Nick finished the last bite of his food before replying, Okay. Dont forget to take your vitamin

“You’re taking Callie?” Sergey asked, looking over to Nick yawning again and sliding down his seat as he stretched as best he could in the cramped space.

“Wouldn’t go without her,” he told him, his phone face down on his chest.

“Gonna tell people tonight?” the young Orc piped, his ears twitching when Nick side eyed him. Nosey little asshole.

“Not like we could hide it. If anyone says anything to her I might throw a table,” Nick grumbled.

“Even if, it’s none of their business. People delve into others shit for their daily dose of drama and then don’t want to assume any of the responsibility afterwards. Like humans abandoning babies,” Sergey rattled, his accent coming forth a little.

Nick had turned his shoulders in his seat, looking at him a little aghast. “Such depth- is that why Dura puts up with you?”

“It is because I’m the darkest hue of grey she’s ever seen.” he flaunted, earning a scoff from Nick. It was true- Sergey was a very muted color compared to most Orcs that were painted in swirls of green or blue tones.

Nick’s shoulder radio sounded, and the two listened for the call to the accident. Sergey took a couple more heaving bites of his sandwich as Nick responded, instructing him to turn on the lights before siren until they’d pulled onto the street.

↠

His day closed around 2, uneventful, and he liked it that way. Coming home pissed off wasn’t necessarily a bad thing when Callie willingly offered herself up as a sexual ragdoll for him to blow off steam, but being in more delicate condition meant having to withhold some of the roughness she adored. He was left with time to head to Costco before he had to pick her up, which by this time on a Friday, would be packed, and her method of dealing with rude shoppers who bumped into her uncaringly was… hostile, to say the least.

Nick grinned to himself as he palmed the wheel to park the truck. Already so protective.

He wandered aimlessly, up and down the aisles, grabbing this and that, knowing he was forgetting something that he’d only remember once home; it happened every time. He grabbed the massive bag of shredded cheese and moved on with his cart, snatching samples as he passed the small stands. As always, he stopped to look over the books, mostly for himself, but kept an eye out for a new Stephen King novel- yep, there it was. Now Callie would have something to do during her appointments that seemed to drag on and on for hours. But another one caught his eye and he picked it up.

Multi-race Baby Names: 1000+ Choices for Your Little Surprise

Nick scoffed. “Surprise?” he said under his breath. 1000, huh? That was also placed in the cart and purchased.

The drive to the bank was decent. In that neighborhood, people drove angrily, like they were the only ones that mattered on the road. It resulted in him flashing his badge at a particular asshole who kept trying to shove his way in front of Nick when the lanes merged. Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little sarcastically. Years in, and he was over being prim and proper just so people wouldn’t mind the Orc cop.

He parked the truck in front, pulling out his phone to tell her he was waiting.

He thumbed through the book he got for himself, reading the preface as he snacked from a monstrous box of crackers he’d bought; Sci-fi was becoming a new favorite of his.

A soft, carrying whistle caught his attention and he looked up, smiling at the pretty face that tuned the two-note whistle as she walked to the truck, her growing belly poking out from between the smartly pressed jacket she wore over her dress suit.

“Hey baby,” Nick said as she struggled to hoist herself up into the truck, tossing her bag to the floorboard along with her folder packed with paperwork, grunting when she curled over her stomach. “How was work?”

“I’m on the verge of firing Isabel. I’ve never met someone so fucking lazy and sorry for themselves, ugh! And she always attacks people for being more committed than her? She tried to get on me for being branch manager and I was this close-” she basically mashed her thumb and index together, “This close to knocking her on her ass,” she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Don't forget you’re preg-”

“I didn’t work my ass off to feel bad that she can’t manage to make it in 3 of the 6 days she works-” she angrily tied her hair up. “Fuck that,” she yanked the seatbelt over her stomach, arching her back to better settle in the seat and slipping an ankle under her thigh once kicking off a heel. “And I need maternity clothes. I can’t keep squeezing into these shirts,” she huffed, letting her head bounce back against the seat with a hard exhale. “Fuck I’m winded,”

“Little thing getting too big already?” he asked affectionately, backing out of the spot.

“Your dad was right when he said you’d make big babies,” she smirked.

“We could skip the banquet and go shopping,” he tried, flashing a devious grin but only receiving an unamused glare in return.

“I didn’t spend all that money on a dress to let it go to waste. You can’t weasel your way out of the suit,”

“I hate suits,” he grumbled, his hand instinctively moving to her stomach when he pulled up to a busy road he had to turn onto.

“Mhm. Did you get the cheese?”

“And a few other things,” he motioned to the box in the backseat. Her legs bounced in excitement at the newest Stephen King, but she passed it to look over the baby names, also pulling a cheese stick from her purse as she flipped through the pages.

“We should also make a list of names we won’t use,” she commented dryly, and he snorted.

“Like?”

“Bog- Bogdub?” she pronounced slowly, her nose scrunching. “I like Lorn though. Shat? Shat is a name?” she exclaimed.

“Really old name,” he palmed the wheel as they pulled into a drive-thru across the street, lowering his window. “What’ya want?”

“You’re getting takeout?” her brows drew in together.

“There’s only gonna be snacks and drinks at the thing,”

“Oh, okay, eehhmm… 2 five-layered burritos with guac and crema,” she said through the corner of her mouth.

“Better not have fish in it,”

“It’s a Taco Bell, mensito.” she ribbed, his flat look making her giggle.

They drove home with pleasant conversation drifting between them, his hand remaining on her stomach and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the baby that had caused an unexpected bout of nausea that morning, but had subsided in time for her to order her favorite item on the menu.

Once home, he carried their bags and Costco purchases in one hand and kept his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against his side to plant firm kisses on her temple, Callie pushing half-heartedly against his chest as she laughed against his affections. Pucca was already barking inside, jumping at eye level excitedly once the door had opened.

Both of them took the time to smother her with kisses and silly questions about how her day was, the chubby pitbull wiggling side to side to keep up with the lightning speed of her wagging tail as her parents showered her with love.

Callie only bothered enough to take off her jacket and unbutton her shirt once sat at the table, far too eager to dig into her meal with Pucca’s chin rested on her thigh; she gave her little scraps, baby talking endlessly to the pretty eyed pitbull. Nick had started sitting at an angle in his seat beside her, making room on his lap for her restless feet so she didn’t fidget uncomfortably.

“What time is the thing tonight?”

“Six,” Nick barely got out. She had a brilliant habit of asking him something whenever his mouth was full.

She twisted her wrist to look at her watch. “Doesn’t leave much time to get ready,”

“Don’t rush. As long as we show up it’s fine,”

The final bite of her food washed down her throat with her drink, standing to ball her wrappers and toss them.

“I’m gonna shower real quick.” she called from the kitchen, speed walking as she pulled her dress shirt down her arms, Pucca at her heels.

“Mhm,” unconsciously he hummed around his food, pushing some around with his fork when his eyes flickered up in realization. He sat straight with his neck extended, listening intently from the table; the shower curtain rings scraping across the pole, the water springing from the shower head. Nick started to cover his food and gather his trash, his eyes remaining trained on the entrance to the hallway.

By the time it was all shoved crudely into the takeout bag, he was on his feet, and had heard the shower curtain open and close again.

There was no reason to, but he still tiptoed down the hall as he pulled his shirt forward from his shoulder blades, pushing his face into the cracked door so it opened a little more.

Thinking of how the water streamed down her naked body only provoked his eagerness, which in turn made him a little clumsy in his impatience to push his pants and briefs down and yank his socks off.

“Nick?” she called loudly from the other side of the curtain, and he took the opportunity to poke his head in.

“Yeah?”

She spun with a short screech, her hands hidden in her bubbly, lathered hair.

“What’re you doing?” she started to grin, scratching her scalp as he stepped into the narrow shower, now even more of a tighter fit with a wide shouldered Orc before her.

“I needed a shower too,” he said against her neck, partially squatting to wrap his arms around her middle, her distended stomach right below his pecs. He tried to hide his flinch when the searing water ran over his scalp, and she laughed at the way he tensed and grunted.

He flinched from under it, wincing as he spit some from his mouth. “S’like fire,”

“Only way to get clean,” she smirked, bending back under the water to shake her fingers between her soaked tresses, the raining shampoo following the curves and dips of her body.

Nick felt his eyes heavy, as well as his breathing when he watched how her honey-golden skin shone from the miniscule light coming in. He was already salivating, inhaling deeply to find her scent, but there was too much steam and the smell of her fragrant shampoo around them.

The soft brush of his touch across her nipples shot goosebumps down her sides, her eyes opening to find his burning ambers as he stepped into her space. His thumbs rolling and swiping stirred a soft sigh from Callie and her arms fell around his shoulders loosely when he leaned down to adorn her wet skin with kisses and soft bites, his hands catching the curve of her back when she craned backwards.

His tongue was hotter than the water running over them, his nipping, sharp teeth a pleasant shock every now and then, either around a nipple or biting along the soft sides of her breasts.

“No point in a shower if you’re gonna be dirty,” she murmured when he fisted his hand in her hair after standing straight, a hard kiss to follow.

“Dirty is better than filthy,” he growled, and she smiled when he gripped her bare ass.

“Says you,”

He eyed her, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into her again, but also fuck her until she was blind. Her soft touch grazing up his hardened dick made him grunt, his eyes fluttering when she pumped him.

“Mhm,” she kissed into his jaw, then down his neck, finally resting back on her heels when she reached his chest. “You like it dirty, don’t you?” she questioned seductively, un-needing of an answer; she knew.

Nick shuddered in anticipation as she kissed down his chiseled belly, her hands dragging down his ass and thighs. A soft kiss at his inner hip started a hard tremble in his legs; that was his pressure point she only sometimes took advantage of. Finally she gazed up at him as she took his hard member into her hands, finding his desperate eyes.

It always left his mind a pile of useless muscle when she did this. He’d before questioned inwardly how she’d become so good at the way she took his dick to the back of her throat and rotated her hands so perfectly along his shaft at the same time, but by the time the question arose in him this time, he was already bracing himself against the shower wall, his hips rocking into her hot mouth.

And she encouraged it. She’d pull on his hips when he slowed, her attentive touch winding up his clenching stomach, her eyes keeping his when she’d let him fall from her hot mouth onto her chin- fuck, that thin string of spit made him whimper- before letting him rock back in, his direction the only guide back between her lips.

Nick pressed his face into his arm, exhaling harshly when she squeezed along his shaft. Forget the hot water running down his back, or the drops waterfalling over his shoulders- all he could focus on was the soft scrape of her teeth and the way her tongue shaped to his girth perfectly.

“Fuck, Callie,” he ground out, fighting with every shread of restraint left not to pin her arms above her head and fuck her face.

“Feeling filthy?” she teased, her tongue gliding up along the underside of his dick.

Nick shivered.

She gasped as he lifted her from under her arms in a flash, holding her face to kiss her harshly.

His rigid cock was rested against her stomach, and already her hands were around him again, stroking up to his head where her thumb could swipe over the tip and move the thick beads of precum around.

“Stop,” he breathed heavily, again squatting before her, but to pull up from under her ass until her legs wrapped around him.

Her stomach hadn’t grown big enough to stop this… yet.

A wavering moan fell from him when he merely brushed against her cunt while carefully hooking his arms under her knees, his palms flat against the tile wall.

She was open, and ready, and he didn’t need to smell her to know she’d been prepared for this since he first stepped into the shower. He could see it in the feral glint of her caramel pools, and her mouth hung open, her full lips begging to be kissed.

But Nick liked to take his time.

Despite her pleas, he pushed in agonizingly slow, always groaning loudly for that first slide in.

She kissed him with abandon, her blunt nails pinching every so often as he loved her from tip to base, the deep pumps leaving her limp in his hold.

“Apurate,” she sighed, her tongue lapping against his teasingly. She tasted like the water dripping down their faces, her lips still soft as he stole a few slow pecks.

“Shut your big mouth,” he played, hissing when she bit down on his bottom lip. He snapped his hips forward once, a gasp falling from her wide smile.

“You like my big mouth,”

“Yeah when it’s around my big dick,”

“Oo, getting cocky?” she asked, clinging to him when he fired into her. Callie’s head fell back, her body thrusting up and down against the wall as he fucked her, gazing down at her bouncing breasts. She cursed, and cried, her toes curling on either side of him.

“Keep saying cock,” he groused, kissing her turned jaw.

“Then fuck me harder with that big cock,” she simpered, watching one of his hairless brows rise before her repositioned his feet and fucked her without restraint.

Immediately she locked up, under an assault she couldn’t flee from, but squirming from this would be foolish when he so perfectly caressed her hidden treasure, turning her words to clustered cries and sending her eyes rolling back into her skull.

“Yes-” she choked, heavy hands holding his face. “Fuck me, fuck me just like that,” she near laughed, smiling widely as the bliss started its slow build-up.

He kissed her sparingly, unwanting of those delicious moans to be smothered, stifling his own so he could hear clearly the way she begged in his name. It sounded like a holy prayer, the way it rolled off her tongue; it made him feel like he was the one to be worthy of worship.

“Baby-,” he panted, dropping his face to her neck when his groin area started to tighten. “Baby I’m gonna cum,”

“Not yet,” she begged, “Just a lil’ longer,”

But he continued, entranced completely.

“Nick,” she breathed, and he had enough power in him to stop from thrusting back in, his head hidden inside her smooth pussy. No way he could stay like this for long. He was teetering on the brink, wanting so badly to throw himself over that brilliant edge.

“Rub your clit,” he ordered, and watched, and moaned, fighting the burning urge to fuck her again as she rubbed her swollen clit rapidly.

“Do you like it?” she asked, but his head didn’t lift as he nodded, daring a slow, single pump as she carried on. His arms shook from the power of his hands pressing into the shower wall.

“Do you still wanna fuck me?” she whispered, grinning at the desperation in his face.

“Don’t do that,” he whined, daring another slow pump, pressing tight enough into her that she moved up the wall.

“Fuck me then,” she moaned, her breath fluttering. Nick recognized that. “Fuck me,”

He obeyed, a loud, shuddering moan coming forth as he shifted back into that steady rhythm again.

“You’re gonna make me cum baby,” her voice was peaking, her head hanging forward as the once flawless flicks of her wrist became erratic, and then her hand pulled back altogether. ”Oh there, oh there-”

There was a long moment of her eyes pinched shut and jaw hung before she let go of her long symphony of moans, her hips circling as much as possible as the euphoria stretched across her shaking form.

It only took a few pulses of her pussy around him to finally have him falling into that pool of ecstasy, pressed balls deep into her quivering cunt as he drained in her, thick shots of semen pulsing from his dick again and again.

Where once the water splashing down them had been forgotten, it was now preventing her from holding around his shoulders comfortably, and he at last looked at her, bumping her nose a few times as they both struggled to even their breathing.

“We need to bathe in holy water after that,” she cracked, and he snorted, placing a few good kisses on her cheek before carefully letting her down. It was almost comical the way he popped from her, grunting quietly when his still shrinking dick felt vulnerable without her warmth around him.

“Now I’m too lazy to finish,” she sighed, a hand over her tightened stomach and the other reaching to pump conditioner in her palm, uncaring of the aftermath leaking down the insides of her thighs.

“So I guess you washing my back is out of the question?” he pouted.

“Only if you wash me first,” she played, her long hair held up in a wet pile atop her head.

Callie hadn’t actually expected him to, but when he squeezed a tiny mountains worth of her silky body wash into his palm, she turned, already turning to jelly in his hold as he massaged it all along her body. Across her menacing crow tattoo that adorned her shoulder blades, and down her toned arms to her hands that he cupped in his, wrapping them around herself when he circled her.

She turned her cheek into his kiss, relishing in his sturdy chest against her back and his protective hands holding either side of her stomach.

Now he could smell her- even above the body wash. There was Callie’s vanilla, and the savory essence of pregnancy that reminded him of her blood he’d savored when he first bit her, and now there was him, seasoning her like the final pinch to a perfect dish.

She was all of them- a tailor made perfume just for him.

One hand lingered over her stomach where the other moved around her, holding close what he owed his happiness to. But alarming pride also coarsed through him. Seeing her grow with pregnancy made him animalistic, almost; there was nothing like seeing evidence of what he’d done with his mate literally show before him like that.

“I did this,” he declared softly, fingertips pressing mindfully into her round belly. “I put a baby in you,”

She reached back to hold his opposite cheek, planting a few lingering kisses on the one closest to her. “That’s your baby.”

Pulling on the tux and making sure everything was tucked and buttoned neatly had been easy up to this point. The YouTube tutorial was doing little to help his fat fingers loop and pull the tie into anything that could actually pass as a tie, and he slipped it from around his neck angrily, the fitted fabric of the black tux around his shoulders already bothering him.

“Fuckin’... piece of shit,” he hissed under his breath. “Fuck this,”

He stalked towards their room, pushing Pucca down when she jumped at his thigh. “If you get fur on this your mom will kill me.” She still wagged her butt, whining after him as he walked down the hall. That’s when it hit him; fucking lint rollers! He stomped the rest of the way to the room, pissed at his own inability to remember his entire purchase list when going to the store.

“Can you help me with… this,” he trailed off, rendered speechless.

The carnelian red material of the sheer gown flowed down her body softly like the calm running of water, changing shape only over her stomach that bulged beneath it. It pooled elegantly around her feet, and the thin straps of the shoulder and low cut back showed off the art adorning her body, especially the dark, menacing crow across her shoulder blades. She looked at him curiously as he detailed her long hair pulled into a loose twist, some locks falling around her face and neck, just a glimpse of the silver earrings dangling and the small stars beside her brow ridge.

“How do I look?” she asked, tentatively, her thigh and knee poking from the high cut of the dress.

His mouth opened to utter everything; gorgeous, beautiful, perfect, astounding- but he was left with nothing but his hand on his chest, unable to take his eyes from his ecstatically beautiful lover.

“Lat're ij goddeukuk,” he uttered, finally, but not knowing what he’d said, she looked back to the mirror, her hands running down the curve of her belly and cupping underneath.

“Think people can tell?” she asked.

He grinned, proudly. “People can tell,”

That’s my baby.

She nodded, turning to grab his tie and loop it around his collar. “I’m nervous,” she said softly, her thin fingers manipulating the material expertly.

“You both look beautiful,” he said, and she grinned, her eyes still on the tie. “So good that I can’t imagine how you’d look in a wedding dress,”

“I’m not-”

“Getting married pregnant, I know,” he griped, a little sourly.

Her hands moved to hold his face, stood on her toes and craning her neck for a kiss until he leaned the rest of the way down. He exhaled, holding her sides as her thumbs smoothed his chiseled cheekbones, her kisses soothing away what little disappointment sat on his heart.

“You will one day?” he asked huskily, enveloping her mouth for a deeper caress as his fingers curled into the sheer material of the dress.

“Calista Jakoby is too good of a name to pass up. And that police pension.” she grinned, yelping when he smacked her ass.

With the tie braided artfully and her heels slipped on as she steadied herself against him, she grabbed her clutch and phone as he grabbed the keys, planting a few kisses on Pucca’s head before closing the door behind them.

She half jogged to the truck when the cold of the night pricked her exposed skin, and this time he helped her into her seat, making sure her dress didn’t catch in the door. The heater was cranked once inside, noting the goosebumps already rising on her arms and again they rode with his hand over her stomach.

“Rosie is salty she wasn’t invited,” Callie grinned, flashing the long rants worth of messages from her sister.

“Paramedics aren’t as cool,”

“Oh you’re gonna get on her about that again?”

“If she keeps mocking about seeing me at that doughnut shop, which I was at for you,”

“To be fair that was too good of a joke to pass up on.” Callie simpered, laughing when he squeezed her knee.

Valet took his truck when they arrived, surprisingly complimentary of the LAPD, and Callie kept her clutch against her stomach when Nick offered his elbow, walking up the dazzling stairs carpeted in rich red and stunning gold linings. He felt a little out of place being at such an upper class location but Callie fit right in, like she should’ve always attended sparkling events such as this.

They passed a few familiar officers chatting in the marble lobby, and she almost forgot to keep her chin lifted confidently as they took double takes at her obvious condition.

“That makes me feel like a walking attraction,” she intoned.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, they were obviously looking at me.” he corrected, evoking a giggle.

They boarded the elevator, both looking around at the exquisite space that looked like it belonged in New York amongst the ultra rich, not LA.

She turned, finding one of the walls to be a mirror, and took her phone from her clutch.

“C’mere,” she called, and he stood behind her, posing against her back as she beamed in the photo. There were silly ones; of him holding her up as she craned back, pretending to bite her neck, and there were raunchier ones of her ass pressed into his hips he couldn’t help but laugh at.

“That ones for Instagram.” she chimed, depositing her phone back in her clutch as they made it to the upper floor.

The music boomed through the wide hall they walked through to enter the banquet room, the tables lining the walls littered with fellow officers and their wives or husbands, some with kids dressed elegantly. All had a look to dish to Callie, who was in the small handful of other woman wearing something besides the normal neutral colored gowns, but then they saw the stomach, and their conversations shifted. Nick hadn’t told anyone at work beside Sergey and Ward, so this was the night the news was breaking: the Orc finally knocked her up.

They stood at the entrance, overlooking all the tables and people, the dance floor a little sparse besides Nick’s captain dancing poorly with his band of merry men. She scoffed.

“I’m already over this.” Nick stated, fixing the cuff around his wrist.

“Jakoby!”

They turned to find Sergey walking up to them, a wide smile and also in a fitted tux with his girlfriend close behind.

“Hey kid,” Nick nodded in his direction, greeting Dura quickly.

“Miss Callie, my favorite human,” Sergey said in a silly manner, a little smitten as he hugged her tightly.

“Hi sweetie- hi Dura!” Callie said excitedly, hugging the lean female Orc behind him that was cloaked in a strapless, deep green gown with diamond embroidery beneath the bust and equally dazzling hoops hanging off her pointed ears.

“Oh my god you’re finally showing!” Dura whined lovingly, holding Callie’s sides after she hugged her. “Any kicks yet? This lug won’t tell me anything,” she jabbed her thumb in Sergey’s direction, but he only rolled his ochre eyes.

He wouldn’t let me say a word to anyone,” Sergey directed the blame to Nick.

“Yeah cause that was so difficult for you,” Nick grumbled.

“Y’all Fogteeth need to stop congregating in public like this,” Ward piped in, walking up from behind Nick before giving him the handshake. Their interaction wasn’t as constant since Nick had finished his first year, but they made it a point to still meet up for lunches or when Ward needed help in his yard. “How ya doin’ mamas?” he moved to hug Callie, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Ahh, depends on the day,” she grinned, leaning sideways. “Hi Sherri,” she flashed a dazzling smile, effectively warding off Daryl’s salty wife who didn’t look half bad in her royal blue dress. Hair was a little tacky along with those ridiculous nails, though.

“My goodness, look at this,” Daryl held her sides, patting a couple times. “How long ‘til he gets to meet his uncle?”

“Got about 5 more months,” Nick said, loosening his tie. Callie pulled his hands down, mumbling to stop messing with his suit.

“You know I still don’t understand how you were able to keep quiet about this but I can’t get him to shut up about fuckin’ veggies- just in my ear, all day when we have routes together,” Ward teased, the girls laughing as Nick chuffed loudly.

“You never shut up about your dead ass lawn…” Nick mumbled.

“Cause that shit you suggested still ain’t doing shit-”

“I’ve told you a hundred times-”

“I want a snack,” Callie butted in before they started bickering endlessly.

“Me too- come, tell me all about the little faushnu.” Dura said affectionately, the girls arms linking as they walked back to the tables loaded with sweets.

“Congrats, brother,” Ward clapped Nick on the back, making the Orc somewhat bashful.

“Yeah yeah, thanks.”

“Hey, did you get that briefing from Heig this morning?” He questioned, bumping Nick’s arm.

“For everyone?” Sergey butted in, listening curiously.

“Yeah- is there really another wand floating around?” Nick asked lowly, and Sergey’s eyes widened.

“A wand!?” Sergey exclaimed, and Nick hit his chest with the back of his hand. The young Orcs face tightened, his filed tusks showing momentarily from behind his angry pout.

“Do we really have to get involved in that shit again?”

“I don’t see why we would. What happened was one thing and this is another. I don’t want none of that shit in my business.” Ward explained, head shaking as he searched for Sherri.

“What shit?” Sergey tried again, but the other officers dropped it, leaving the rookie fuming.

A few hours in, and most of the men had removed their jackets and rolled up their sleeves, leaving Nick to follow suit promptly. Any longer and he would’ve lost his mind under the restricting fabric. Heig was alongside a few other deputies, all lined up across the stage as the mayor spoke highly of the LAPD, his shadowed eyes only aiding to a sense of lies alongside his smile.

Most watched, but a lot mingled amongst themselves still, uncaring of the announcements that could’ve been done at the station instead of this whole thing.

“Theadora,” Callie tried, scooping ice cream into her tiny spoon. Nick scrunched his nose.

“Elizabeth?” but now Callie shook her head.

“Why do we only ever suggest girl names?”

“I feel like I’d only make girls,” Nick shrugged, sipping his rum and coke. “Most of the firstborn in my family are girls,”

“Mm, maybe. What about Guillermo?”

“Wasn’t that Rosie’s…?”

She shook her head. “Benecio,”

“Ahh. Anyways- something I can pronounce please,”

That unnecessary part of the banquet ended in low applause, but Heig looked like he’d been handed the key to the city, standing under the hot lights and sweating like a hooker in church.

“He didn’t even get a medal or anything,” Nick commented dryly, and Callie looked at him with a knowing smile.

“Like you got? For being the biggest and baddest?” she asked, and he nodded, confidently.

“Damn right. That’s why that shits framed.” he wiggled his brows, smirking when she chuckled with the spoon between her teeth.

The men dispersed from the stage, the dance floor filling again with tipsy couples only embarrassing themselves as they flaunted their supposed dance skills.

Nick’s arm hung off the back of her chair, his fingers tracing designs on her arm when she leaned against him, whispering little nothings and the occasional joke as the minutes ticked by in their own little world. Ward ambled around, butting in and then wandering off again and again until Sherri kept him close, and the same went for Sergey. He was already tipsy by the time he flopped back into a chair beside Nick, asking where Dura was even though she’d been following him around for the past hour.

The seats started to fill up when the music slowed, sending most of the more lively attendees away to the drinks.

“Are you gonna ask me to dance?” Callie asked softly, and he looked down at her, his brow cocking.

“You’re gonna make me go out there?” he asked, and she smiled, nodding. He considered arguing, but he also knew how much she’d missed dancing since instructed by doctors to take it easy. With a defeated sigh, he rose, holding out his hand to help her stand and smooth down her dress. Nick lead her through the tables, thankful that a slower song had started lulling through the speakers; he didn’t have any skills to get down like she was capable of. But after years of watching Callie during recitals and performances, and gazing at her as she spun slow circles in their kitchen only to be dragged over, he knew enough.

With their hands held up, he spun her slowly, bringing forth a dazzling smile as he drew her in. The way he so tenderly ran his hands down her arms to her lower back made her sigh, her own inching up his chest as they fell into a steady, smooth swaying. His forehead bumped hers, catching her molten eyes that sparkled under the lights around them.

“You’ve been practicing?” She asked softly, her thumbs stroking his neck when her hands slid higher over his shoulders.

“Shuffling in a circle isn’t that hard,”

“Say that to my broken toes,” she teased, and he growled at her, only stirring another smile. “I’m joking. You’ve only broken one of my toes,”

“Keep it up and I’ll pass you to someone else,” he smirked, arm moving around her shoulder when she slipped hers around his waist. Callie beamed when he started to purr with their cheeks touching, the soft strokes against her shoulder blade from his wide, rough palm sending shivers down her sides.

“You’d never,”

“Don’t tempt me,”

Their shape was a little funny- her stomach prevented her from pressing flat against him like normal, but it still made him grin, just barely, to himself.

It was like they were dancing with their baby, softly lulling it like Callie talked about doing when she could hold it in her arms.

“If I can hold it in my arms,” she pouted, wiping the gel from her stomach after an ultrasound.

Nick frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Cause this is the fourth time I’ve been pregnant, and I haven’t been able to name or hold any of them.” she told him, silencing any further rebuttle. No matter how grim that was, her words were valid.

His arms drew tighter, giving her a light squeeze. Every pregnancy, she was more disconnected than the last, afraid to become attached. He was already head over heels excited, but he had been the other times, too. It saddened him to see her pass by onesies and various other baby items when they’d go to stores, telling him, ‘we can wait a little longer’.

Let’s see if this one makes it, is what she really meant.

“Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from grabbing a glass of champagne tonight?” she said into his chest, shaking him from darker thoughts.

“If my kid comes out with an ear on their forehead I’m gonna punch you in the throat,” he grumbled, and grunted when she poked his sides.

“I want a day to get drunk after I deliver,” she looked up at him. “I miss our nights at Loco’s,”

“We still have fun without getting drunk,” he mouthed against her jaw, keeping his arms secured around her when she giggled and wiggled.

“We’ll have mommy and daddy days,” she decided, tucking her head back under his chin. He blinked a few times.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard something like that out loud,” he confessed softly, a little flushed. “Never thought of myself as a daddy over just being a parent,”

“You’re my big Orc daddy,”

He scoffed stubbornly, squeezing her. “Shut up,”

The slow song only lasted that one turn. People started calling for upbeat music again and Callie pulled Nick away from the dance floor, mentioning that she didn’t want to risk getting kicked in the gut when one of the white boys inevitably tried to breakdance.

So they all huddled to a table; Ward with Sherri- although she could care less at a table full of Orcs- and Sergey with Dura, all of them teasing and talking and booming with laughter when the drinks came and went quickly, the men throwing them back and some more when Sergey pulled a fat flask from his tux. Nick became quite the chatty cat when he got to drinking, pointing this way and that, speaking of things he normally kept bottled after shitty days or telling Ward in particular how much he liked his mustache.

When the men started slurring and Sergey nearly tripped over an entire chair after saying he didn’t see the entire said chair, the woman gathered their stumbling men, sneaking out of the banquet despite Heig moving to the stage again to make more announcements, drunkenly that was.

At valet, Callie directed Nick to the passenger side, pushing his big body up until she could close the door quickly. Off with her heels and she could drive, again blasting the heater when the harsh chill of the night stung her skin.

“Nick c’mon,” Callie laughed, a hand against his chest to steady his towering form that one arm around his back couldn’t do alone.

“You could’a left me in the truck,” he mumbled, walking, but when he swayed here and there, it was like trying to catch a falling tree.

A string of giggles tumbled from her lips as he mouthed the back of her neck, kissing across her shoulder with his hands against the door and his body shielding hers as she struggled to find the house key, her shoulder drawing into her cheeks every time he tried to get one of her ears.

They both lurched forwards when she managed the door finally, but Nick still had good enough reactions even drunk and caught himself, then her before they both went crashing to the floor. A moment of shock, and then he was laughing, air forcing out between his pursed lips.

“Go, go to bed,” she instructed, letting him wobble his way towards the back of the house, but stopping to give Pucca hugs and kisses. “Go lay down before you fall,” she instructed as she tossed her heels aside. Ugh, much better. She even wiggled her toes into the carpet a bit.

“You go lay down before you-” he mimicked, standing suddenly, walking with determination into the kitchen, throwing open the pantry door with more force than meant. “Found them,” he mumbled with heavy eyes, cradling his bag of Takis as he bumped into the kitchen entrance before heading back on his original path.

She had lock up duty that night- closing windows, double checking doors, arming the alarm system that Nick had had installed a couple years back.

Upon entering the room, she found him with the open bag still in his inner arm, struggling to kick off his shoes and not fall flat on his face with Pucca walking circles around him.

“Get,” she waved Pucca away, then pushed against his chest to get him onto the bed, losing a few Takis along the way. “Stay there,”

“Are you trying to get me in bed?” he asked coyly, lifting his feet as she pulled his shoes off.

“I already have you there- Nick!” she smiled, exclaiming as he kept stealing kisses along her collarbone when she tried to unbutton his shirt.

“You’re so pretty,”

“Hush and stay still,” she ordered, somehow getting his dress shirt off before smacking his thigh to make him turn a little.

“You’re my girlfriend,” he stated matter of factly while pointing to himself with eyes clouded by booze, chewing loudly on the chips.

“That so?” she went along, pulling his slacks down his legs and stepping back as he violently kicked them off across the room.

“Yeah, cause I,” he pointed to his own chest again, “Put that in you,” his finger landed back at her belly.

“Proud of yourself, ain’t ya?” she smiled, pulling her earrings off.

He nodded, a smug smile plastered across his face that only made her eyes roll in amusement. But his amusement puddles when he watched her start to carefully hang his suit up, pressing down small creases.

“Just throw it in the laundry,” he mumbled, glaring hatefully at the handsome suit.

Callie turned, the temper of her eyes dangerous. “Hell no. I picked and paid for this suit- it’s gonna be treated like a member of this household,”

Nick scoffed. “S’not that nice,”

She looked at him blandly. “Wanna pay me back the $300 for it then?”

“Pay you back with some lovin’, c’mere,” he made grabby hands at her, but his reach was smacked away, an exaggerated pout following.

The dress was pulled up from her feet as she padded to the bathroom, eager to take off the make-up she’d painstakingly put on. At least swirling the makeup remover around was enjoyable- she’d often drag the mascara around her eyes to resemble the joker, cackling quietly to herself before rinsing it off. A quick wash, some moisturizer and her eye cream she couldn’t live without later, and she was finally done, but stopped halfway down the hallway to turn back.

Should pee now before I get up and run into something.

Doing that with the dress was a damn chore. Coming back out again, she glanced at the sticky note on the spare room they still needed to clean out and prepare. The corners of her lips kicked up in a smirk.

N + C = baby, the sticky note said. Nick had first stuck the note to a onesie he’d bought the day she’d made it past her first trimester, and despite the teasing nature of the words across the onesie, she couldn’t part with the attached note. It had been on the door since, and realistically, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to take it down; there had been times she considered framing it. Even after recalling that beaming, cocky smile he gave when presenting the ‘Of course I’m cute, have you seen my dad?’ onesie.

Nick chewed noisily, still sprawled across the bed and offering a hand to pull the zipper of the dress down the soft curve of her spine. Callie swatted at his hand when he pinched her butt, his eyes a little hungrier for something besides Takis when a waft of her scent hit him after the dress fell into a red puddle around her feet and left her only in red lace panties that barely contained the ass she’d gained.

If he thought fucking his scent into her was something that made his ego skyrocket, sticking a baby in her and carrying that child heightened it everyday, boosting his pride to an otherworldly level. On top of the bite that adorned her breast, this would solidify them as mates for life, more than marriage ever would. That being said, it still fascinated Nick that of everyone she could’ve chosen, she loved him, an Orc, and chose to breed with him regardless that they’d have a halfling. She wanted his child.

Nick was lost in admiration before he could realize that she’d been watching him as she rubbed cocoa butter into her stomach, her brows curved in scrutiny. He looked like he was on the verge of crying… but he could just be tremendously sleepy after downing his weight in alcohol.

Her hair fell loose around her shoulders after pulling a loose tank top on, turning with hands upon her hips. “You look sad,”

“I’m in awe,” he elaborated artfully, his hand spinning and a chip between his lips.

“Awe?” her brows perked up, watching him struggle to sit up and reach for her.

“I need t’talk to ‘em,” he murmured, pulling her by the hips.

“About?” She grinned, leaning back into her hands when he pushed her shirt up.

“It’s private,” he mumbled, and she snorted.

“Listen,” he said close to her distended stomach. “You are the greatest- and I mean greatest when I say it in the presence of a literal goddess,” he paused to gaze up sleepily, but she looked away, pink dusting her cheeks. “You, tiny me, are the best thing I’ve ever done,” he proclaimed softer, his wide hand over her protectively. “You made me realize how badly I wanted to be a father,”

Sentiment stirred her heart, listening to Nick declare such love to their unborn child with his forehead rested against her stomach.

“I love you,” he murmured, a kiss lingering on her stomach before he pulled her shirt back down. “I love you,”

Soft strokes from her hands across his head turned his face up to her, and she grinned, holding his cheeks when he stood to kiss her; he tasted like vodka and fire.

“I told you this one would stick,” he said against her mouth.

“Don’t get a big head now,”

“I’m just sayin’, third time's the charm,” he simpered, and she followed him into bed.

Just as Callie had finished propping numerous pillows around herself and grabbing the Firestick, Pucca came bounding up the bed, walking all over Nick in attempts to lay between them.

“Braav-” Nick cursed, pushing her away, but she was still smiley and wiggly, rolling to lather Callie’s face in kisses. “We have to train her to stop that,”

“She just feels left out,” Callie baby talked, smooshing and swirling Pucca’s wide head between her hands as the panting dog moved closer. “My big baby,”

“Not gonna be th’baby anymore,”

“But she’s always gonna be my first! Aren’t you? Aren’t you preciosa? Mi hermosa bebe?” Callie gushed, Pucca’s head twisting back and forth and her floppy ears perked forward.

Nick finally settled, Takis in one hand and phone in the other when he stopped to watch her smother the dog, kisses upon kisses to her furry head, wondering how enamoured she would be with their baby in her arms.

“We can start buying more stuff now y’know,” he carefully suggested.

Callie shrugged, resting her jaw in hand when she perched on her side. The knuckles of his hand rubbed her stomach, peeping from beneath her shirt. “I suppose,”

“You know you’re allowed to enjoy your pregnancy,”

“It’s not that,” half her face scrunched. “I do- I really do. I even try to remind myself when I’m puking that I’d rather be dealing with that than… empty. But I feel like if I become 100% invested it’s all gonna be taken away again,” she explained with a reserved tone.

“Not this time. You’re so far along now,”

“I’m still worried. I always worry.” she said with her eyes keeping his, a hidden fear showing through in her jittering foot.

He didn’t know what to say. There would be no vanquishing the worry until she had it cradled in her arms and against her chest. Nick could offer little words of reassurance. He didn’t know what it was like being afraid of your own body that could betray you after giving life.

“I like Leonardo,” he stated instead, and although her mouth opened to protest, a sense of appeasement filled her, flipping the name again and again in her mind.

“That’s a strong contender,”

“Or Jonaq,”

“Started strong and ended lame.” Her lips flattened into a straight line, and he smacked her hip.

Pucca’s head popped up from behind Callie, a soft growl rumbling, but her tail was wagging fiercely, her pretty eyes trained on Nick.

“Oh what’re gonna do? Huh? You big useless thing?” Nick challenged, sitting up to press his nose to Pucca’s as she continued to growl.

-----------------------------------------

“Okay, let’s take a look here,” the ultrasound technician chimed, dragging the probe across her jellied stomach that was just starting to swell outwards. Nick had lost his mind the first time they noticed it. He spent at least 10 minutes taking pictures, even ones where he knelt beside her before the mirror with his cheek against it, smiling proudly.

The screen displayed the fuzzy black and white mess of shapes and blurs, Callie’s head not having yet rested against the examination table as Nick leaned in closer from her other side.

“Got the butt first this time,” the technician chuckled.

When the small definition of a foot and leg came in suddenly, he tensed, the picture moving up past ribs to a clear profile, softening Callie’s tense expression.

The little head bobbed back, along with small arms and legs that fidgeted in the misshapen oval that would be it’s home for the next 28 weeks.

“It’s moving,” Callie grinned, Nick’s head tilting to watch it wiggle around. “I can’t feel anything,”

“Probably won’t till after about 15 weeks,” she told her kindly, her fingers flying over the keyboard of the machine as she measured and took screenshots.

You’re inside me, Callie thought affectionately, her adoration for the black and white fuzz shaping her baby growing every passing second she saw the tiny arms curl close to its face, or a little leg kick outwards.

“Do you wanna know the sex?”

Nick and Callie looked at one another, but he shook his head. “We’re okay with waiting. So far,”

“Do we get pictures?” Callie asked eagerly, wiping down her stomach once the exam had ended.

“Better yet- here’s an entire album.” The technician smiled, handing over a long stream of printed photos displaying profiles, butts, and overall shapes.

“I can’t tell who’s nose it has,” Callie squinted, holding the scan at arms length after pushing her glasses up.

“It's still too squishy,” Nick chuckled.

“Yeah. Should we get one of those 4D ones done?” she asked, and he pulled in his shoulders while parking in his parents' driveway.

“I wanna wait ‘til it’s born to see it. I don’t want something in my head of what I was told it’d look like,” he explained, grabbing the scans so he could look them over again. “Look at those little arms,” he groaned lovingly.

“I guess,” she said, looking them over again when handed back. “I think it has my nose,”

“Maybe it’ll have my elbows.”

She snorted, folding them diligently to place gently back in her purse as they exited the truck.

Dinara was there to answer with warmer hugs for Callie now than Nick, her hands falling to her small stomach as she berated her with questions about her health; how she was feeling, was she tired, had she eaten yet.

Oleg always had open arms ready, almost picking small Callie up off her feet in a hug and holding her face affectionately as he smiled down at her with warm, golden eyes. “You glow like my Dinara did when she was pregnant with Nick.” he’d say.

Nick was bossed around by his mom as she ordered Callie to sit down and put her feet up, directing her son to pour his lover tea. He handed it off sourly, winking at Callie.

His mother and Callie could sit and talk for hours, most of which was gossip from two completely different lifestyles, added in the normal day to day life and shit at work. Nick and Oleg watched TV, bickering over their rival teams before any steady chit chat could find it’s way in until the food finished cooking and they all moved to the table.

She would deny it at first, but when Dinara slopped seconds and thirds onto Callie’s plate, she never pushed it away.

“You give my grandbaby all the food they can eat.” she’d order earnestly, the spiced rice and veggies piled high on Callie’s plate and too good to resist.

“Speaking of,” Nick said around a full cheek. “She hit 12 weeks a couple days ago,”

Dinara gasped, her fork falling into her roasted potatoes. “You did!?”

Nick retrieved the scans from her purse, but they were snatched from his hands by Oleg before he even sat at the table again, which were in turn snatched by Dinara who barely gave him any lean to look at them as she did, blubbering words of amazement.

“Oh I’m so relieved- I’ve bought so many things I’ve wanted to give to you but didn’t want to anger you!” Dinara sobbed, the scans against her chest even with Oleg trying to pry them from her hands. “Oh, beautiful baby,”

“We can start crib shopping now,” Nick said, holding Callie’s thigh, but she only shrugged indifferently, still smiling as she watched Dinara.

“Onesies first?”

The hesitation was still there, even though they’d made it over that mark. But he nodded, and smiled, leaning over to kiss her head before returning to answer the questions his parents laid on them.

--------------------------------------------

Oh oh oh here we go 🖤 don't she look the cutest with that bump! and Nick in a suit Y U U U U M

translations: -"apurate": hurry up -"lat're ij goddeukuk": you're a goddess -"faushnu": baby -"braav": brat

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peterparkerpatrol-deactivated · 6 years

Photo

ANOTHΣR SHΦT

Fratboy!Tom Holland | Tom x Reader

Chapters: | 1 | 2 |

Chapter 2

You wouldn’t say that you liked Mondays, but there was something refreshing about the start of a new week. The mad dash to get all of your work done on Sunday night often meant you hit a slump in the afternoon, so to cope with the post-weekend crash you’d created a routine that involved getting a large coffee from the campus coffee cart and finding a nice grassy spot in the quad to settle onto and get a start on your readings for the week. It was small, but it was something that helped get you through the day and gave you something to look forward to. This particular Monday was sunny, but a cool breeze would occasionally blow through and gently tug at your hair as you made your way around campus. You walked towards your usual spot at the base of one of the many trees in the quad and settled yourself against its thick trunk. Across the quad, a group of people were kicking around a soccer ball.

You took a sip of your coffee and pulled out your textbook and notebook and started reading, jotting down important things from the chapter as you read. You’d had 30 minutes of uninterrupted reading time when someone suddenly plopped down beside you.

“Hello Y/N,” grinned Tom, a slight sheen of sweat covering the copious amount of skin he was showing in his muscle shirt. “You didn’t text me, I was worried about you,” he said, taking a pull from his water bottle. As he tilted his head up, you got a clear view of his tight jawline.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s kept you up at night,” you responded. “I thought you didn’t live on campus?”

“I don’t, I was just at the gym,” he said, pointing back at the large rec hall on campus. “I’d just finished when I saw you sitting here, figured I’d pop by and say hello.”

“Well, hello to you too,” You said simply, turning to look back at your book.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. You held up your book higher so he could read the cover, still staring intently at the paragraph you were reading. “Student’s Guide to Cognitive Neuroscience? Sounds hard.”

“Yeah, you really need to pay attention to what you’re reading to get it,” you respond pointedly.

“Oh come on Y/N, you can’t honestly tell me you’d rather read that than speak to me,” Tom laughed.

“Yes, I am honestly telling you that,” you said, mimicking his accent. “I need to read this, we have our first midterm soon.”

“Alright, alright,” Tom said, throwing his hands up in defeat, “I’ll make this quick. Sig Ep’s hosting a fundraising event this weekend. We rented the pool for a night and are gonna put a bunch of inflatables in it and watch Titanic. Sound like something you’d be interested in?”

“So that’s why you came over,” you said, barely managing to refrain from rolling your eyes “You haven’t sold enough tickets yet and need a few more people to come or you’ll get fined. That’s how that works, right?”

“Sweetheart if you don’t think I could sell ten tickets then you don’t know me,” he smirked.

“I don’t know you,” you pointed out. “I met you like, two days ago.”

“Fair enough,” Tom laughed “let’s change that though. Don’t worry about buying a ticket, I’ll put your name on the list,” he said as he stood up and brushed the grass off his pants. “You have my number so if you’ve got any questions you can text me. Or call if you’d like to hear my voice more. I could give you tips for your impressions.”

“Wait I didn’t sa-“

“I’ll see you Friday!” He said before heading off, a smug smile plastered to his face.

“Why are boys such idiots?” You asked as you tossed your backpack at the foot of your bed. After your encounter with Tom, you couldn’t focus on your reading so you retreated back to your dorm.

“Because they’re boys,” Amanda said simply. She laid in her bed with her laptop on her chest, watching Criminal Minds on Netflix. “You can’t expect a lot out of them. What happened?”

“This guy, Tom, he’s trying to drag me to the Sig Ep event this weekend. But it’s at the pool and-“

“Wait, Tom as in Sig Ep Tom?” Amanda asked, looking over at you. “Tom “look at me I’ve got perfect hair and a British accent” Tom?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.” You said, suddenly uneasy. Did he have a reputation you hadn’t heard of? He was probably a serial dater. Going out with girls for a few weeks before leaving them for the next cutie in a crop top. He could be the type. “Why, is he-“

“Oh my God Tom Holland is trying to get you to go to Sink or Swim that’s fucking hilarious.” Amanda laughed before you could finish your question.

“It’s not funny!” You said exasperatedly “I talked to him for like, twenty minutes on Saturday and now he won’t leave me alone.”

“And you’re complaining? The guy’s gorgeous. And British!”

“He’s a Sig Ep, Amanda, you know I hate them. I only go to their parties because of you guys.”

“Honey, listen,” Amanda said, pausing her show and moving her laptop to the side so she could sit up and look you in the eye. “I’m not going to say you need to get over your dislike of Sig Eps. After what Daniel did it’s valid. But you need to make an exception for this guy.”

“Why should I? All he’s done is walk around like he’s the king of campus or something and try and flex his snarky attitude at me,” you say, rolling your eyes. “And I guess he called me an Uber on Saturday but that’s it.”

“Woah woah woah wait, Tom’s the guy from Saturday?” Amanda said, “Uh-uh, you don’t get to say he hasn’t done anything for you when he was literally willing to fight Daniel to defend you.”

“Oh my God, Amanda, he was not defending me!”

“He totally was!”

“Babes!” came a voice from your shared bathroom. You lived in a suite with 3 other girls, your two rooms split by a shared bathroom. You and Amanda were in one room, and Emily and Shannon were in the other. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom was Shannon, a patient smile on her face. “What’re you yelling about? I’m trying to study for my French quiz tomorrow.”

“Tom Holland was Y/N’s savior from Saturday!” Amanda blurted.

“No. Way,” Shannon said, a grin spreading over her face.

“Yeah, and he asked her to go to Sink or Swim!”

“What’d you say!” Shannon asked, taking a seat at your desk.

“I didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask me,” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose “Besides I thought it was just a movie screening. It’s not a couples thing or anything… is it?”

“I mean, no, it’s not a couples thing,” Amanda said, “But how many people do you really think these inflatables can fit?”

“I’m not going,” you said flatly “If there’s anything worse than being surrounded by Sig Eps, it’s being surrounded by Sig Eps in a pool.”

“You could sit in the bleachers. No need to get near the water,” Shannon offered.

“I’m not going,” you repeated, growing frustrated. Your roommates could see your growing tension and backed off. They began talking about their own plans for Sink or Swim before Shannon dismissed herself to go back to studying. Now that the seat was vacated, you sat at your desk and took out your textbook, struggling to pay attention to your reading.

“So, saw you talking to a girl today,” Harrison said, spreading some peanut butter on a slice of toast. “Who is she?”

“Just a girl I met at the party on Saturday,” Tom responded, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge. “I only spoke to her for like five minutes, are you stalking me or something?”

“I’m everywhere, mate, you should know this by now. What sorority she in?” Harrison asked.

“I don’t know. She’s friends with some Pi Phi’s apparently.” Tom said. He shook his protein shake and sat down at the frat house’s shared dining table.

Harrison walked over and leaned over the table on his elbows in front of Tom.

“Quit your bullshit, dickhead. Gimme more details,” he said as he took a bite of his toast without breaking eye contact.

“Are you two gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes again?” Jacob asked as he walked in on the scene.

“Tom’s fancying some girl and I wanna know more about her,” Harrison said.

“I don’t fancy her,” Tom said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re certainly making an effort with her,” Harrison said.

“Is it the girl from Saturday?” Jacob asked “Because she was cute,”

“Oh so you tell Jake about her but not me,” Harrison said, acting wounded.

“There’s nothing to tell! I’ve spoken to her like twice, it’s no big deal.”

“So you’re saying you haven’t stalked her Instagram yet?” Jacob asked.

“No, why would I?” Tom shrugged, downing the remainder of his protein shake.

“Because she might have swimsuit pictures on there,” Harrison said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Real mature,” Tom said, rolling his eyes. “I think she’s cute, alright? That’s all there is to that.”

“Is she coming to Sink or Swim?” Harrison asked.

“Hopefully. Bought her a ticket.” Tom shrugged again.

“You don’t usually invest in your hookups,” Jacob pointed out.

“It’s $5 that’s hardly an investment.”

“But it’s something,” Jacob countered.

“You guys are annoying, I’m going to my room.” Tom groaned, leaving the kitchen.

“Remember we have thin walls!” Harrison yelled after him.

Once he got to his room, Tom flopped on his bed and let out a deep breath. It had been a long day, and he still had a lot of homework to get done. Despite this he pulled out his phone and opened Instagram, typing in “Y/N”.

He smirked a little when he saw her profile picture and tapped it, his smirk vanishing when he saw your account was set to private. He was so used to people’s accounts being open and available, he checked to see if he didn’t accidentally try and view your finsta instead. But no, there was only the one private account under your name.

“Mysterious girl…” He mumbled, finally putting his phone down and heading over to his desk to do his work.

AN: I’m taking title suggestions for what to call this series! If you have any ideas you’d like to share I’d love to hear them ^^

Tags: @iaiabear @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @fijiangecko

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canaryatlaw · 5 years

Text

okay, so. most of the day was fairly boring lol as expected but tonight of course was super awesome. I had set a 1 pm wake up if you’re not already awake alarm but I ended up waking up to my phone buzzing right at 11 am, it was a Chicago number so I answered and chatted with this guy from this legal company that does boring shit like document review and is doing like part time temporary hiring projects, which would obviously be a short term fix as I’m still looking for full time employment, but they pay like $20 an hour (and you don’t technically have to be licensed for some of their stuff, so being that I am licensed I miiiiiight get to do some more intense stuff for more pay? Idk, have to see) so I have an 11 am Skype interview scheduled with them for tomorrow morning to chat about that stuff. I’m obviously not like dying to get this job or anything but it’d be nice to have some income while I’m still looking, like if I did like 15-20 hours a week that’s $300-$400 so that’s not insignificant. I’m just gonna be super upfront with them about the fact that I’m seeking permanent employment and if I start anything with them there is a solid chance I will up and leave with fairly short notice, and if they’re not okay with that then we won’t do it, but I get the feeling since a lot of their shit is short term they’ll probably be okay with it. So after I got off that phone call I looked up the number for Ulta and called them to push back my haircut appointment which was booked for 12, I was trying to do think if there was somewhere I could plant myself downtown and do a Skype interview to then just run to the appointment but I obviously don’t want to do like, starbucks, and beyond trying to sneak into my old student org office at school (that’s no longer mine obviously) there’s not very many options, so I was hoping we could just push the haircut back a bit till like 2 and she happened to have an opening then so that was perfect because she gets booked up fairly consistently, so I lucked out there. After that I was lazy and went on my phone for a bit before getting up and going on my laptop at the kitchen table while I ate breakfast and then eventually moved over to the couch and was just listening to podcasts while on my computer for a while, then ended up watching the pilot of the new amazon prime show “Hanna” that’s not actually premiering to March but they were making the pilot available for like 24 hours after the superbowl for some reason and I was fairly intrigued by that (I never did actually see the movie its based on) and it was okay I guess? I wasn’t like super enthralled in it but I may give it a try for a few episodes when it comes out. The main actress is pretty good, but she’s a lot older than I thought she was (she actually turns 19 like, today) when I thought she was more like 13 or 14. and she’s apparently not been in much of anything up to this point, so good for her. After that I just turned the tv off and listened to more Panic music since I downloaded a bunch last night on top of what I downloaded after the concert last week so I could be more familiar with that while doing some computer stuff and trying to get some more Batwoman comic reading done. I was trying to see what they had on DC Universe before switching over to Comixology (which I have to pay for) but they only have issues 1-12 of her new 52 run which is apparently significantly longer than that and I burned through those very quickly, and the other ones on there are basically just one-off appearances in a random Batman story. So I guess I’ll read those then see what I can get on Comixology (they apparently have a subscription thing now which may be more affordable than paying for each comic, I’ll have to see what’s the deal with that). Around 4:30 I started getting ready, tried to do my make up very carefully and ended up trying to use my liquid eyeliner on my bottom lid which I normally don’t do but I like accidentally got some on there when trying to get it on my top lid (not sure how I managed to do that) and wanted to see if I could do the rest. It turned out pretty good in the immediate aftermath at least, but when I got home it had migrated down my face a good bit which is basically my biggest pet peeve with black eyeliner so I probably won’t be doing that again (I’m gonna see if I can find a better one at Ulta/Sephora tomorrow, since I’ll be at the Ulta and there’s a Sephora down the street and I want to find something that’s a Sephora brand product. There’s apparently also a Sally’s around there which I may also hit up for some hair dyeing supplies). But I finished getting ready and got on the bus at like 5:30 to meet Jess at her work so we could go straight to the concert from there, I was supposed to get there slightly before she got off so she could use it as an excuse to leave but the bus was being uncooperative (as public transit often is) and I ended up not getting there until like right when she got off, but it wasn’t a big deal because we weren't really in a rush being that we knew Panic didn’t actually take the stage until like, 8:30 lol. We stopped at a mcdonalds drive thru on the way where we got twenty nuggets, two cokes, and a medium fries (it’s always a debate about how many nuggets to get, because Jess is like “but I want more than 10″ when we’re splitting 20 but it’s more expensive to order 30 nuggets than it would be to order 40 nuggets and that’s just way too many (we did try that once) so I was saying we could do a 20 and a 6 piece but ended up just going with the 20 for us to split. Drove the rest of the way out, the concert was out by the airport which is a bit of a hike but we’re used to going there because most Chicago cons are in a venue that’s right by there. There was fairly massive traffic getting into the venue, and we had some momentary panic (no pun intended) regarding paying for parking because we didn't have any cash and didn’t know if they’d take card, but luckily they did so that crisis was averted. of course it’s bullshit that they’re charging $25 to just park in their giant ass parking lot, but that’s life for ya. Once we parked we had to kinda run to the venue because it was cold and we were both bumming it without our regular coats (I had a leather jacket on) so we were happy when we got in there. Got in without issue, climbed up the stairs to the top level of course and found our seats. We were literally like, the furthest section back on the side before the other seats just weren’t sold because you couldn’t be able to see (the other half of our section was actually closed off) but despite that we actually had a fairly good view and could see most of everything, just mostly from a side view and sometimes the back, lol. I was pumped though because I spent like all of last week wishing I could relive the concert and now I was getting to do that, so I was very excited. The new perspective was interesting, we got to see things from different angles which was interesting, like him popping up onto the stage when he first came out and just jumps up so it looks like he just gets shot out at fairly high speed lol. The set list was the same of course, except I’ve been listening to the music all week and actually knew the vast majority of the songs this time and could sing along, so I felt accomplished for that. I did manage to take a good amount of videos that I posted all on my instagram story if you want to check those out (@ racheleiley) and this time I didn’t ugly sing while recording lol so they’re better quality than the ones from last week. But yeah it was really good, I still got super anxious and cringey when he was on the floating piano above the crowd and very clearly not strapped into anything and like, going to the edge of the platform and I like, couldn’t watch because it stressed me out too much lol but thankfully he made it back okay. When Girls/Girls/Boys came on we hadn’t gotten the little paper colored hearts to put over our cell phone lights this time because we were in the reject section that was mostly empty, but it was still enjoyable and he definitely had no less than 10 pride flags thrown onstage at him during it which he picked every single one up and draped them over him and he was like “this is a record” which was great. But yeah, I really enjoyed all of it. When he came back out for the encore someone threw a little teddy bear onstage and he was like “aw, this is the cutest teddy bear, I’m keeping this” and put it in his back pocket as he kept performing and it was really fucking cute lol. He must be in really good shape to be doing this sometimes multiple times a week because it’s so much energy expended and his voice is so strong to be able to handle it (makes sense that he did a stint on Broadway). But yeah, I enjoyed it a lot and got much better videos this time so I’m pleased with that. Once it ended we managed to get out of the parking lot relatively quickly, definitely a lot quicker than we expected because we kinda cut around part of the line to get to the exit faster (sorry not sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️) and then made it the rest of the way home, and Jess made me walk back to my place from her apartment instead of dropping me off which she could’ve VERY EASILY done, but she was being a butt and trying to get payback because she always has to make the walk when we hang out at my place (which we do the vast majority of the time). So I walked home, thankfully it wasn’t too cold, and then spent a while uploading the videos to my instagram story because it was being uncooperative while at the concert so I had to do them all after. My roommate got home shortly after I did and somehow managed to leave her keys in the front door, but now our front door wouldn’t unlock, so she was gonna go around the back to get to the front and asked if I had my front door key, which I thought she meant the front door to our apartment, so I gave her that she disappeared. Not long after I could hear someone calling my name so I went to the front door and was like ??? yes??? but she wasn’t at the door and I was thoroughly confused as to where she could be until it occurred to me that maybe she was locked outside, so I went down the backstairs to the back door where she was in fact stuck, we had a slight miscommunication on the key situation and she couldn’t get the front door of the building to open because I gave her the wrong key, whoops, but we got it figured out and fixed the door situation so that was good. After that was settled I got in the shower and started getting ready for bed and now I am here. I’ve been writing this post for about 40 minutes and it’s now 2 am, I have to get up at at least 10:30 tomorrow to make sure I’m presentable for the Skype interview so I think I should get to bed now. Goodnight loves. Have a lovely Tuesday.

#daily journal #February 2019 #Jess tag #Panic! At The Disco

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pastelbrachypelma · 6 years

Text

I’m very tired, but I have this growing fear...

...that Dan may be pulling away from the Grump family.

There are several possible reasons for this and, first of all, before y’all go ape shit because I’m about to talk about Dan’s personal life, I’M NOT CLAIMING ANY OF THIS IS TRUE, NOR AM I ABOUT TO TRY AND FIND OUT IF THIS IS TRUE. I ain’t got the money or time, and more importantly, I respect Dan as a human. THIS IS JUST SPECULATION because the Grumps are my hyperfocus, and THIS IS NOT MEANT TO HURT ANYONE. I like analyzing shit for fun, so if you can’t deal with a little harmless conspiracy video type analysis, bye bye! :)

Now then.

1. He has a girlfriend.

This is the most plausible reason, and I talked about this when I analyzed “Heart Boner” very briefly, but it is certainly possible, especially since he mentioned going to Disneyland with someone who was (obviously) outside of the Grumps circle. The evidence that he has a secret girlfriend is all very coincidental, of course, however, I do believe it is plausible.

2. He’s leaving/stepping away from Grumps to focus on NSP

Dan has been stepping away from Grumps since his burnout in 2014. He rarely (if ever) was on streams (pre-2018 when the Grumps radio streams began), or would only come for a few hours towards the end of the stream, or, as was the case with the Crisis Text Line charity livestream, was there for the beginning and left halfway through. People are gonna get mad at me for being “whiney,” but frankly, I don’t care. I’m sorry (?) that Dan specifically is the center of my hyperfocus on the Grumps. I love both of my boys, but for some reason, I’ve become particularly attached to Dan (this has also happened to several other fans who focus on Dan, so it shouldn’t be a new concept, but I got several mad comments about my focus on Dan before, so y’know.) This is just the way my hyperfocus works. If you’re mad about it, go somewhere else. Also, I know why Dan does this. He is a busy man, and he has to look after his voice. Unlike Arin, he can’t talk nonstop for hours on end without resting his voice. Also, despite his Myers-Briggs test pinging him as an extrovert, he is more introverted than Arin in a lot of ways (who has probably had to adapt to being a people person, and can probably deal with humans for a longer amount of time). Dan is not a party person, so I get the feeling he’d bail (or look for the first opportunity to bail) the minute things got too crazy. (Can’t exactly blame him for that, seeing as I’ve done the same thing.)

So how did I reach the conclusion that he might be leaving Grumps? His true love is music. It’s what he’s wanted to do since Day 1, and NSP is his baby (just like Grumps is Arin’s) and thus his priority. Now that NSP has a successful fanbase, thanks in large part to many Lovelies migrating to NSP, he has the ability to make money simply off of touring with NSP. We saw Brian step back earlier this year to work more on NSP stuff (and probably be a dad more often). It’s not unthinkable that one day, Dan would simply leave Grumps for good. I don’t know if Arin would keep the show running by himself and do a sort of permanent Guest Grumps (probably including Dan at varying points to keep the views rolling in), or simply abandon Game Grumps and do something else. (Because now that Arin has success and a name for himself, he could do something else. Make games full time, maybe, or focus on Real Good Touring. I doubt he would go back to animating, but that is also a possibility as well.) I’m of the opinion that Grumps peaked in 2015-2016, and I think that with a rising preference of facecam channels/personalities (and this ties into a larger theory of mine that I have yet to write about why the GG fandom offline is mostly male), it is unlikely that the Grumps will reach a growth spurt like Jackspeticeye or Markiplier have experienced. And you could argue that people who rarely/never do Facecam like CallMeKevin and RTGame rose in sub count fairly quickly, but they have a specific kind of content that they post consistently and that is funny in its own right (and these large subscriber counts, I am willing to bet, are males). GG’s format hasn’t aged well, and would be better suited to a full-time podcast where Dan and Arin talk about their lives as opposed to playing video games all the time. (My opinion, but feel free to disagree calmly and civilly.)

My point is that Dan could leave, and could be gearing up to do so.

3. Dan is choosing to be less visible

This is probably the most plausible explanation. Dan has said many times that he doesn’t like the spotlight, and wishes that he wasn’t a celebrity, even though he is grateful for what fame has enabled him to do. Since he has been a target for some rather undesirable behaviors lately (whether you view them as assault or not), it’s only natural that his first instinct is to make himself as invisible as he possibly can. He hasn’t been posting as much on Instagram, he hasn’t been seen on Arin or Suzy’s Instagrams, he didn’t come/refused to be in the picture Suzy posted on Thanksgiving, and he seems, to me, to be slowly playing more and more of a “character” on Grumps and during the Power Hour. It could just be me, but the show doesn’t feel as genuine as it used to. It’s possibly Arin and Dan are trying too hard to be relatable, to give fans what they think they want (and maybe some fans do want that? Who knows?), but it’s possible that this is a sign. Dan may be withdrawing more from the public eye, at least as much as he possibly can. And we know he’s a very private person, and he is beginning to lament aspects of his fame. So we may see him retreating more and more from Grumps, more vacations away from LA, starving his social media. He’s also a generation ahead of Arin (I think?), so his views about the changing world, liberal as they may be, are different than millennials like Sean and Mark. I wouldn’t be surprised if, one day, he just announced he was deleting his Instagram for good.

4. Dan needs to step away for health reasons

This is the most unlikely, as (supposedly) he works out with Arin, which would indicate his health is the same as it’s always been, if not improved. But it’s not entirely farfetched. Chronic illnesses can be very tricky, and Dan isn’t getting any younger. If his chronic illness is acting up more often, or if it’s getting progressively more serious, Dan may be spending more time at home resting and recuperating as opposed to hanging out with friends.

5. Dan and Arin are no longer as close as they once were

This one...hurts me to the core, honestly, and I so desperately don’t want it to be true...but there are a lot of signs that they are forcing their closeness, or were for a while. Again, this has to do with how I interpret the tone of recent Grumps episodes and some of the power hours, so this may be the real least plausible option from this list for some people. (I remember seeing a fic where their friendship was completely fake once in 2016 and thinking it was bullshit...then we get to 2018, and I’m not so sure). I think I’ve talked about before how some of the “gimmick” power hours (the tie dye episodes, and candy makin candy men specifically) made me feel distinctly uneasy about the state of their friendship, and while they seem more comfortable with each other now, Dan’s increased absence makes warning bells sound off in my head.

Make of this what you will. Again, these are to be treated as FUN CONSPIRACIES because I like to overanalyze things. THEY ARE NOT MEANT TO HURT THE GRUMPS, NOR AM I IMPLYING THAT ANY OF THESE ARE TRUE.

Please don’t come after me for posting this. If you come at me off anon, I will block you. Don’t test me.

#personal #not so grumpy boy #game grumps theory #don't come after me or i'll slap you wITH A BAN BISH #i need to stop watching so much jenna marbles #my conspiracies

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salt-sass-and-lyrium · 6 years

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So, let me tell y’all about the bullshittery that was last week

So, you might already know, but my Monday started off with me waking up determined to have a good day, slap a smile on my face, yada yada. Get all cute, leave early because I wanted to get breakfast, come downstairs and find out some fucknugget hit my goddamn car. I’ll skip the nonsense that’s going on with that, but just keep in mind that that’s how my week started

And it’s been rolling down shit hill ever since

Sticking under a read more because this is some insane bullshit

So I’m dealing with the cops and insurance and work bullshittery so my week isn’t going exactly well. But, oh well. Friday rolls around and I’m supposed to go see Pacific Rim with a friend and get sushi noms. Cool, ok that should at least make up for the shit week.

Annnd it probably would have. If not for what happened beforehand.

So I get off work and I’m super tired (because I stayed up with 21 year olds the night before doing shots forgetting that I am no longer 21) so I decide to power nap and then meet up with my friend.

I’m just starting to nod off when my phone vibrates several times. Ok, I figure someone’s (aka my crazy cat lady friend) is blowing up my Snapchat, but since I have plans I decide to peak and check. Turns out it’s my friend, let’s call her Y.

I haven’t heard from Y in quite sometime (which is a story for another post) so I was kinda surprised and scrolled through her messages. She apologized for more or less ghosting me for like 2 months and then went on this... well I’ll only say awkward ramble that basically boils down to

“... you aren’t having troubles with drug addiction, are you?”

And... no? Like, as most people probably know, I smoke pot, I’ll occasionally dabble in some harder stuff once every blue moon, really a few times a year if that, but that’s really about it.

So, I’m like ???????????????????

And she goes “Well, I just hear things. And by ‘hear things’ I mean that’s what Sheila has been saying.”

And

... what

... the

... fuck

So, I begin the process of trying to unravel what fucking knot of shit fuckery is in front of me, and basically it boils down to:

For a while Y and Sheila have been messaging back and forth. Eventually they wound up on the subject of me and, according to Sheila:

‘We were “BFF”s until recently when she had to “walk away” from our friendship because my depression was just “too much” for her. But she knows I’m this huge druggy and so she’s really worried about me. But now we’re not ‘good friends anymore’ so she can’t check in on me herself, so she needs people to check in on me and report back to her so they can all figure out how best to help me.

Skipping past the “... who the fuck walks away from someone who they know is depressed..?” part

... literally all of that is bullshit.

Me and Sheila were barely friends, much less close.

Hell we were barely acquaintances. We were civil towards each other because we ran in the same circes, and I put up with her because I liked her then boyfriend, now ex-husband.

She didn’t walk away from our friendship, at all, let alone ‘recently’. I unfriended Sheila YEARS ago

after she wouldn’t stop trying to fuck my best friend’s boyfriend while they were together (and yes I know for an undeniable fact that was occurring) and cheating on her then fiance. She was just someone I didn’t want to associate with, because frankly, I’m a ho, but I don’t care for house wrecking hoes.

During the time me and Sheila were in communication, I wasn’t experiencing depression.

I was frankly about the happiest I’d ever been in my life. She’s literally never experienced my depression.

She can’t be worried about me because she’s blocked me on everything

(YEARS AFTER I unfriended her, mind you).

Anyway. Sheila has been going around telling people, for quite some time it seems, that basically I’m this huge addict and who the fuck knows what else. And for the past few weeks, people have been unfriending or blocking me and I couldn’t figure out why. Til right fucking now.

Basically, she’s picking people who are still in contact with me, but not super close, and just telling this super elaborate lie in order to make them worried. Then, under the guise of being worried about me, pumping them for info on me. Asking about my posts, who I’ve been hanging with, so on and so forth.

And that...

That is just fucking SICK. Like, it’s one thing to go around whispering bullshit to people “Psst, I heard that she’s hooked on XYZ”, and another to actually go around to friends, or anyone in general, really, and prey on their fears and concerns to try and dig up dirt on me. Like, she had Y freaking out for days because she thought I was in serious trouble. But all the while, Sheila is just pumping her for info, asking for pictures I’ve posted and what not.

Like.. how fucking dare you? What the actual fuck is wrong with you? To make sure I wasn’t overreacting, I shared the convo with a few friends, and a friend summed it up very simply:

“Sheila is a horrible person.”

And... that’s it exactly. Like, I’m sure coming from me it sounds petty or jealous but... it’s fucking true. It takes a horrible person to even think up something like that, let alone actually do it. And it’s not like these people are just my friends, they’re her friends too. So she’s just lying to her friends pretty much in an attempt to ruin my life.

For clarification sake: I’ve literally never done a single thing to Sheila. Never spread a single rumor, never lied on her or to her, Hell I didn’t even tell her now ex-husband that she was cheating on him (in retrospect I should have). While I never liked or trusted her, I was always very friendly towards her, because that’s just how I am. I don’t think we’ve ever even spent one-on-one time together. And maybe aside from a few texts, have never had a one-on-one conversation. But, I was always kind towards her, up until she started fucking with my friends then I cut her out because well, ain’t nobody got time for childish drama. But I wasn’t mean or rude. I just unfriended her and moved on (again, because we weren’t really friends in the first place).

I haven’t even spoken to her, aside from a “hey” in easily 6 years. Like, no Instagram comments, nada.

But, we were “BFFs”!

The whole fiasco with Dan and Sheila was what... like 6 almost 7 months ago? Aside from seeing her in public a few times, we’ve literally had zero contact. And even when I saw her she was the one who was rude and we still didn’t speak.

So either:

1. She, nearly 7 months later, has decided to start shit with someone she’s literally had no contact with for several years and was never close with to begin with. And if that’s the case, why? What happened recently to make her even bother? (willing to bet something happened with Dan tho)

2. She’s literally been spreading shit and obsessing over me this whole goddamn time.

And I’m honestly not sure which is sadder. Like, it’s deeply deeply pathetic. And tbh if she wasn’t going about it in such a shitty way, I’d feel more pity for her than rage towards her.

Because, frankly. Imma fuck her up.

She’s pushed past the point of me being nice. She’s pushed past my grace and patience. One of the few things I’m glad my mother taught me is:

“Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash.”

AKA “Don’t pop off at the mouth if you can’t take an ass whoppin’.”

And something tells me Sheila’s never had her ass kicked before. She’s never learned that lesson. And by golly isn’t it my civic duty to help her out?

But since I’m not a total thundering cunt, just a thundering cunt for the most part, I’ve decided to try the peaceful route first. I told Y and several other people I know are in contact with her that she needs to

Apologize to me

Apologize to the people she lied to and manipulated

Explain herself to all parties

Swear she’ll never do it again

Fuck off

Because, real talk? Still have zero desire to interact with her. Even outside of Dan Gate 2K17, I just personally don’t like her and I don’t trust her. Not because she’s a thot, I’m admittedly a bit of a ho myself in terms of ‘sexual promiscuity’. But because she’s, as my friend put it “A horrible person”. I don’t want to associate with anyone who thinks manipulating people with lies until they’re freaking out with worry so that you can pump them for dirt (on someone you barely knew tbh) is remotely kosher. It’s like something the “mean girl” in a teen drama would do. Except, we aren’t teens. We’re almost fucking thirty.

Anyway, I’m going to give it sometime for the message to reach her and for her to come to me. If she doesn’t, or if she does and is on some shit, I’m gonna fuck her up. I’m gonna fuck her up, and her car up for good measure. And yes, I know it’s illegal. Yes, I know I’ll likely get arrested. But, frankly, the amount of fucks I give about legal troubles is nil. It’d absolutely be worth it. Yeah, I’ll go to jail, but she won’t have fucking teeth and I dunno I think that’s the short end of the stick.

#personal #bullshittery #drama #fucked up shit #fucked up people #long post #tw drug mention

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boobtubedude · 6 years

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My Top 10 Shows Of 2017

Hi. Here’s a top ten list. People like these, right?

Close But Not Quite: GLOW, Speechless, Insecure, One Day At A Time, Brooklyn Nine-Nine

So what’s 2017 been about? Not about TV, really. Not for me. Hasn’t been the focus. It’s been there, like it always has, but not in the same what. What was an omnipresent obsession turned into something else. It didn’t go away, but it transformed, mutated, evolved, got pushed to the back. But what stuck really stuck, not really programs but lifelines, ways to make sense of senselessness, to realize there was a point to all of this. I didn’t watch nearly as much TV as I had in recent years, but taking a step back meant everything had to count. It had to mean something. It couldn’t be a way to pass the time but a way to define how I should spend it.

10) Wynonna Earp

It was a year in which listening meant more than speaking, when shutting the fuck up was more valuable than trying to articulate anything. Mansplaining my way through this calendar year, whether consciously or inadvertently, would have been the bad way to go. So it was more about looking for blind spots, having them displayed in ways that made me rethink what it meant to be not just a critic but a citizen. Being the former without the latter just means you’re an outsider observer rather than an active participant. Supporting voices that had been screaming to be heard was more important than sharing my own. Even a list like this is probably bullshit, but that’s why I’m not really talking about the shows at all.

9) Jane The Virgin

The shows are important, obviously. They are more than just TV shows but reflections of what’s possible. You can judge shows by how closely they reflect reality and how close they envision how life SHOULD IN FACT BE. I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong way to approach the medium. I do know that shows that simply state how futile it is to do anything other than what’s in one’s own self-interest are lazy and terrible and fairly close to immoral in this stage in history. We all know that life sucks. We won’t need a show to only remind us of that. We need shows that remind us that there’s light in the darkness, that there are options, that happiness is a possibility even when we can’t see it for ourselves.

8) Chris Gethard: Career Suicide

We need to know that other people feel as terribly as we do, and that doesn’t make it freaks but rather makes us human. The idea that we have to hide those kinds of thoughts and vulnerabilities for fear of shame or ridicule cripples us more than we know, and I know this because I’m only this year realizing how long I’ve been this miserable. I chalked it up to “normal” Irish-Catholic upbringing, something that was not worthy of even discussing because relative to so many it’s so fine that it’s not worth even mentioning. And while there are obviously a lot of degrees to this, I chose to just suck it all in for the first 40+ years of my life rather than even contemplate the fact that my left foot taps incessantly for almost every moment of every day I’m awake. I’m constantly aware of how anxiety-ridden and unhappy I am. The very idea of having to go out to meet people at an event I agreed to go to stresses me out, even while being at home all the time makes me wonder why I have so few friends. I can intellectually rationalize the insanity of that contradiction, but I live it all the same. The best stuff on TV doesn’t offer a solution to any of that, but lets me know I’m not alone.

7) American Vandal

We get stuck in routines. We get defined by what others think of us, which in turn reinforces actions that fit that description. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time trying to convince strangers online that I’m a certain type of person, and that has calcified around someone I’d both like to be and mostly hate. All writing is performative to some extent, and it doesn’t matter if I do it in 140 characters or 5,000 words, it’s all a performance to some extent. You don’t see the crusty-eyed, hairy, smelly weirdo that’s typing any of this on his phone or his laptop. You don’t know me, because I don’t want you to, even though some part of me absolutely positively wishes you did. If you ever wondered if it’s exhausting being a narcissist with crippling low-self esteem, let me tell you: It is.

6) Twin Peaks: The Return

Nothing about this year makes any sense, which means that absurdity often reveals more than “real” life ever could. I’m a lapsed Catholic, so the idea of a God watching over everything seems peculiar, but I’ve never lost faith in the idea that there’s more than just the stuff that happens before we shuffle off our mortal coil. We’re connected to something, whatever it is, because without that connection we’re truly in an abyss. People that do the right thing should be judged differently than those that don’t, and I like the idea that the cosmos has some way of addressing that. Whether that’s through mathematics or morality, I can’t say. But we all sense there’s senselessness just around the corner, and even while that’s mighty tempting at times, there’s a fundamental need for order at the heart of existence that transcends mortgages, commuting to work, and the busyness of everyday life. That meaning is reflected on the inside of our eyelids, played across a screen that becomes impossibly vast once we go to sleep. It’s hard to literally interpret, but it’s there all the same.

5) The Good Place

Actions have consequences. As they should. The rising fear in 2017 centered around the idea that causality had been flung into space, a vestigial element of a life that no longer existed. Actions that once had consequences no longer seemed to have any, and the entire agreement between earthly citizen had seemingly been eradicated by those for who shame had been surgically removed. We all knew things were bad, but there seemed to be no mechanism by which to compel those that didn’t feel like abiding by the normal rules of nature to do so. Once that reality set in, nothing felt real, and action after action buried the actions before those. What was strange was how…familiar everything felt, even while nothing was the same. The post-apocalyptic fantasies gave way to benign realities: We still did more or less the same things while also feeling like it mattered less than ever before, or that by doing the same thing we were perpetuating the problem. Hashtags only get you so far. Many of us marched in January but were exhausted by June. We might as well have been arguing with the tides.

4) Review

What’s fascinating about making a bad decision, or indulging in a dark thought, can perpetuate itself and create its own logic loop from which it’s nearly impossible to escape. So people double down on a bad decision rather than admit it was one, and before long you’re so far down the wrong path that finding your way back to the main road is impossible. Mounting evidence of error yields entrenchment, resistance, and a further erosion of trust in anyone else that doesn’t march in lockstep with your worldview. At some point, objectivity turns into a quaint idea, and you can go insane so slowly that you don’t realize that you’ve been scrolling through tweets for the last ninety minutes because the onslaught of bullshit isn’t stopping but in fact picking up speed. There’s a self-perpetuating cycle with enough power to light up the entire United States but instead might just engulf it in flames. Driving off the cliff becomes preferable to looking in the rearview mirror at all you’ve lost on the way to the precipice. We’re ultimately and irrevocably alone in the bubble we’ve built for ourselves.

3) Better Things

That’s not true, but that’s how it felt for a lot of the year for many of us. I have the lottery ticket of life as a straight white American male, and if I felt this bad this year, I can’t begin to imagine a tenth of a tenth of what it was like for anyone else. That doesn’t mean I don’t have sympathy, but I can’t pretend to have empathy in a way that’s meaningful for anyone but myself to hear. The world is profoundly different than in was in 2016, but much of that change doesn’t come from something suddenly introduced so much as suddenly pushed into discussion. These aspects of life have always been here, and while it shouldn’t be a surprise to so many to hear them uttered, it is all the same. In that dissonance is opportunity: opportunity for those able to articulate what’s been under an unfortunate cloud for so long to speak out loud in voices both defiant but also hopeful. These are voices that show both an ugly truth but also a better way. These are voices that, now introduced, cannot and should never be silenced again.

2) BoJack Horseman

Instagram is a fairly new app, but the idea of papering over one’s less-than-ideal qualities has been around for, well, forever. We collectively decide we’re not going to talk about it, and we bottle it up, and then we slowly go bald and fat. Or so I hear. I wouldn’t know anything about that, with my luscious locks and 30’’ waistline. 2017 was, for me, a year in which I realized just how corrosive that rot was within myself, how much I was talking about everything other than what was on my mind, with TV a great way to talk about “important” things without having to deal with my own shit. “Of course everyone knows I’m writing about me,” I’d tell myself, usually after a few drinks, and yet I doubt anyone knew or anyone even cared to consider that option. I speak to 28,000 strangers a day on Twitter and have maybe three friends in my life. My family and I love each other and also are the primary sources of our respective problems. I have a wife that used to see me at my best and now usually sees me at my most exhausted. I didn’t see any of this as a problem because I thought I was too privileged to have problems. That doesn’t mean my problems are equal or more or less than anyone else’s. I’m not trying to lump myself in with anyone or anything. I’m just here and realizing how miserable here is and realizing it’s OK to admit that it’s not OK. I don’t know what the fuck to do with this information a month after my forty-second birthday, but it’s still something akin to a breakthrough for someone that’s really good at analyzing theme in narrative television and absolutely awful at looking at the themes that consistently undermine my attempts at anything approximating consistent happiness.

1) The Leftovers

Recently I came across a bunch of handwritten report cards from my high school that my folks saved for me. Each one said something along the lines of, “I don’t know how Ryan does all the things he does and still excels.” These were wonderful things to right and absolutely cursed me to viewing any moment of inactivity as a wasted moment on the path to death. If I wasn’t being productive in some capacity, I was throwing away a chance to maximize my life, as if life was something to be conquered rather than experienced. That message carried through into college, and into my 20s, and once writing about TV became a possibility, drove me through a decade in which I worked on average about 10-14 hours a day. When I took vacations from my day job, I took the opportunity to just do more writing, watch more screeners, do more podcasts. I was here, but I wasn’t here. Not in a meaningful way. I was an outline more than a fully fleshed-out figure. Recently, I’ve been using my weekends to do anything other than something productive. Stepping off the treadmill is antithetical to my nature, and something that I’m admittedly not comfortable doing. I spent so much time wondering what people I’ve never met thought of my writing and almost no time wondering how it’s been a year since I’ve seen cousins that live ten miles away. Television taught me a lot for the past decade, and introduced me to a host of super smart people that did more for me than they’ll ever know. But looking at that screen (and the second screen, for that matter) for this long has come at a cost: It took way too long to see it, but it’s maybe not too late to do something about it. These shows all helped me get to this place in my life, which is why they are my top ten shows of the year.

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