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bootleg-nessie · 5 months

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Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

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qqueenofhades · 1 month

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I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

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twirlingsmilingwriting · 4 months

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Tolerate It pt 2 || Young! Coriolanus Snow X Reader

"Now, you're runnin' down the hallway and you know what they all say You don't know what you got until it's gone" You don't need to read pt 1 to understand whats happening but if you want to ITS HERE

https://www.tumblr.com/twirlingsmilingwriting/737294906027098112/tolerate-it-youngcoriolanus-snow-x-reader?source=share

TLDR: Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with.

Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), alcohol, alluding to sexual acts but not described at the end, kissing, unclear motives, capitol parties, crying

Word count: 3k

a/n I was not going to make a part two to this story originally because I thought it was a one shot but some people asked for a part two and my big juicy brain started making up ideas!! lowkey wanted to title this one "You're Losing Me" for the next part but then it'd be hard to find. Let's pretend its called "You're losing me" :') ~

Dazzling lights decorated the gardens of the capital. I stood on the balcony feeling the wind blow through my hair and the satin of my frilly and extravagant blouse. The sounds of music and people chattering from below filled my ears. I closed my eyes and hummed tuning into the moment. I could hear his voice. He was talking to guests in the plaza. I could hear the smile on face in his voice as he charmed the guests, his charisma grew with each passing day. It was the same charm that led me down the path of falling in love with him. I exhaled the breath I didn't even notice I was holding and opened my eyes to take in the sight again. My eyes followed the sound of his voice and I spotted my husband down by a catering table. His tall, slender figure danced delicately through the air. His posture was different from when I first met him. He was always confident but the air around him felt different now. His aura was different but I truly had no right to judge the character of a man I rarely spoke to these days.

A heavy, dragged sigh escaped my lips and I sat back and watched his tantalizing smile and words tease and enchant the party guests. He parted his hair a different way today. I noticed every aspect of him, the way his shirt fit so snugly around his broad shoulders and draped over his thin waist. The gold watch decorated his wrist ever so gently. Truly, his beauty was delicate. He had such a whimsical and frail appearance but his energy made him seem like he was three times the man he was, the man he wanted to be. His head tilted up and his eyes met mine. I froze like the ice the color of his eyes were. His smile dropped and he nodded at me, letting his eyes do the talking.

'Smile more and come down here'

Instantly, a curated diamond-encrusted smile plastered my face and I dusted off my satin shirt and walked down the stairs of the balcony to the main area ever so carefully. Floating down the steps and through the crowd, my body finally reached his side and I interlocked my arm with his. He smiled down at me and I felt my heart beat a little faster. It felt real, at least to me. I loved it when we had parties because Coryo would adorn me with the affection I missed from him. His hand smoothed down to the small of my back and I looked over to smile at the party guests.

"Good evening y/n, you look dazzling," the capital man said, I'm sure I knew him from somewhere but his face was unrecognizable from the copious amounts of fillers he had put in it. I bowed my head to thank him without saying a word. I wasn't too sure if I was allowed to speak yet. That question would soon be answered when I felt a tug at my arm and I looked up to see my husband smiling at me.

'talk more smile less'

Swallowing my breath, I turned my attention back to the man. "Thank you, you also look fabulous, it is my pleasure to be able to serve such fine guests such as yourself at this party tonight," I spoke softly and confidently. I felt Coryos' nails dig slightly into the flesh of my hand. 'you're talking too much'. Mild frustration bubbled in me but it was cut short by the laughter of the party guest. "wow Snow, you truly know how to keep your partner in check huh?" He joked and Coryo started to laugh too before brushing off the comment and continuing to chat with the man about business, politics, and violence. I started to feel a little awkward but once I felt my husband release his hold on me and tap my hip three times, I knew I was done being his arm candy in this moment. Bowing my head, I excused myself and made something up about how I had to 'tend to the roses'.

Walking through the crowds of people I made sure to smile and wave at the happy partygoers while parting through them like the Red Sea. Arriving finally at a bowl filled with some sort of fruity and alcoholic concoction, I flimsily started to fill myself a cup. Leaning against a pillar by the bowl, I started to sip my drink and watched the people dance when suddenly, I heard a man's voice speaking to me. My eyes drifted to meet his and he started to walk over to me extending his hand out for a handshake.

"Wow... truly I am delighted to be in the presence of the right hand of the ruler of Panem. Hello, y/n, It is truly an honor to make your acquaintance" He said, a cheeky smile spread across his face. His orange curls decoratively fell upon his forehead and he had a certain glimmer in his eyes. He was clearly overjoyed to see me and that made me feel... nice?

"Oh goodness please, save me the formalities. And what might your name be?" I asked taking his hand in mine and shaking it. "Curtis"

"Short and sweet, I like that name"

He smiled even brighter than before and laughed, throwing his head back and retracting his hand from the handshake. He was tall, very muscular, and he just had the most shimmery of brown eyes out there. His appearance almost reminded me of a former classmate of mine, Sejanus but ginger. I smiled back and started to giggle a little from just his laughter.

"Have you been enjoying the party?"

"I've been trying, isn't the night just gorgeous?

"Pardon my boldness, but it truly doesn't compare to the beauty that you are. The night looks good on you." His words were stern and it felt like his voice was dripping in honey. A soft blush danced across my cheeks. It had been so long since the last time I received a compliment that felt so genuine. I chuckled a little and shifted my eyes away from the ones of the man with all the right words to say.

"Coriolanus is a lucky man in so many ways but truly, ending up with you must be his proudest achievement. I'm honestly shocked that you're standing by yourself here now. He is a smart man but not a wise one to let you start to slip away" he continued. I was truly at a loss for words. I felt my heart start to beat faster and I felt guilt bubble up inside of me. I was married and this stranger of a man was making me feel a way I hadn't felt since my wedding day. A chuckle escaped my lips and my eyes reconnected with the brown ones of the man in front of me.

"Please don't flatter me here... I can assure you my husband is a talented, smart, and wise man."

My breathing started to slow down as I tried to calm myself down so the obvious blush would remove itself from my face. I toyed with the cup in my hand and took the last sip. He noticed the cup was empty and offered his hand out to take it from me. He said he could refill it for me and I cautiously handed it over to him watching as he poured me another cup of the fruity drink.

"Here you go"

He handed it back to me with two hands and let his other hand rest on top of my own when he handed it back to me.

"Thank yo-"

My words were cut off quickly by the feeling of cold slender hands on my waist, pulling me back. "y/n, darling, I was looking for you" Coryo spoke lightly and spun me around to face him. His hands ran up my body and rested on either side of my face. His blue eyes stared into my own and a soft smile met his lips. "We have a toast to make sweetheart, who is this?" His cold fingertips rubbed either side of my cheeks and I melted right back into his touch. "This is Curtis, I assumed you invited him." I spoke gently and watched his face. He glared at Curtis and his Adams apple bobbed while he clenched his jaw. He tilted his head slightly at the man then brought his gaze back to me and then looked back at Curtis. His fingers interlocked with mine and instantly a joyful light-hearted feeling filled my body. It was the hand Curtis was just touching so I knew Coryo was trying to prove a point here but god, it felt so good to have him touch me so intimately again. "Well Curtis, I'm a little shocked no one ever told you to stay away from things that aren't yours." His words spoke venomously in my ears and a shiver went down my spine. Mild anger was spread across his face as he held me even closer. The ginger man said something in response but I was too enchanted by my husband to process any of it.

Coryo brought his attention back to me and I felt his hand slide up my body and hold onto the back of my head. It happened so quickly when he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine harshly and aggressively. I gasped into the kiss and brought my hands up to either side of his face, holding him ever so gently to not overstep my place. His other hand went right onto the small of my back and he leaned forward more, dipping me. This felt like a scene out of a movie. Warmth started to build up in my breathless figure and he pulled away slowly, scanning my face before he smirked slowly. Some time during the kiss, the man had left and it felt like it was just me and Coryo in the crowd now. I felt a little dizzy, dazed, and confused. My thumbs continued to rub little circles into his cheeks and I smiled and whispered, "I love you." His smirk dropped and he pulled away fully and looked around. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist and he started to drag me to the stairs leading up to the balcony.

I was stumbling over my feet a little trying to keep up with him. When we reached the top of the balcony, Snow looked over at me. His cool and calculated eyes looked me up and down to make sure my appearance was on par with his standards. He exhaled heavily before turning his attention to the people still partying. His booming voice halted the night and the music stopped. The capital guests turned their attention to us in confusion.

"Everyone, I am sorry to end this night so early but I'm afraid circumstances have mixed with their consequences. Before you all disperse, I'd like to make a toast. First, a toast to my beautiful spouse whom I could truly not do anything without"

My heart melted and a warm smile spread across my face. Coriolanus only glanced at me before continuing.

"and lastly, a toast to you all for attending tonight."

He picked up a glass cup that he had resting at the top of the railing and lifted it to the sky. Everyone toasted and took a sip of their drinks. Coryo not so subtly didn't but he placed the cup down and issued another goodbye to the guest before turning to me and placing his hands on my waist again and looked down on me. His expression was unreadable to me. The rest of the party guests started to file out. I heard one masculine voice start to cough violently but as I started to turn my head to look over at the source of the sound, Coriolanus took me by the hand again and dragged me into the house.

He dragged me up to the bedroom and slammed the door. A thick silence started to fill the room. His head was tilted down low, staring at the ground. I stood still and started to fidget with my sleeve. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Do you make me out to be a fool, y/n?"

"W- what?"

"Oh don't play stupid with me now. You have one job and it is to be my partner and I leave you alone for a second and you know what you go and do? You disrespect me. You so aimlessly let another man flirt with you in front of everyone at MY party"

"Coryo I love you so much, another man could never replace you in my heart I promise. I am so lucky to have you" I started to ramble and stammer over my words. He brought his head up slowly to look at me from his side of the room. He looked haunting.

"Look at your hand" he demanded. Nervously, my gaze dropped down to my hand and I noticed it.

"You're not wearing your wedding ring. You can't even try to pretend you like me. That ring shows a promise that we are supposed to be together forever, you are supposed to serve me forever, and you go around, letting other men flirt and flatter you and without your ring above all things. Clearly, this means nothing to you. How am I supposed to tolerate this kind of behavior. You ungrateful piece of-" Tears were welling up in his angry eyes as they threatened to spill from mine. I yelled so loudly I scared myself,

"Stop! Stop! please stop I can't take it! You're losing me Coryo you're losing me! I don't understand. I have given you everything. I have given you the best of me, I polish everything in your life to paint you a blue sky and you have done nothing but blow dust onto the pages of what was supposed to be the story of our love. I don't understand how I am letting myself stay with you, with this man, no this stranger who is nothing but an empty shell, a reminder of what used to be and the relationship I was manipulated into. Coryo I- I want out. I can't be with you anymore" I was crying furiously and shaking. I moved to sit on the edge of the bed and tried to recollect myself. Coriolanus said nothing for a moment before I heard a crack in his voice.

I hadn't noticed that he had moved his way across the room and he now stood by my feet at the edge of the bed. Hot tears streamed down his face. It didn't feel angry anymore though, it felt sad. He suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and held my hands in his. He cried into my knees and I felt my heart shatter.

"I- I'm so sorry y/n... I had no idea you were feeling like this. This is my fault I should be a better husband. Please don't leave, I'll give you everything, every last breath in my chest if I can, I love you... I love you... I love you..." He cried out desperately and I started to cry more too. His sobs were being muffled by my legs. My fingers reached his hair and started to stroke it softly.

"Coryo.... Coryo I love you too... I love you so much. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'd never leave you I promise." He slowly looked up at me with his bloodshot and puffy eyes. His plump lips were lightly parted and his eyes searched mine. I blinked away another tear and reached my arms out to hold him close. His eyes welled up with tears again and his lips pressed downwards into a frown before he stood up again and he leaned down into my arms. I stood up to try and match his level and started to cry into his chest while he cried into my shoulder. His behavior was like a switch, one moment he was angry at me and the next he was so incredibly sad. I can't stand to see Coryo hurt. I love him too much, need him too much. Our bodies rocked back and forth before I whispered another "I love you" into his chest. I felt his lips on my neck for a moment when he smirked against my skin and stopped crying. I was still sobbing into his chest and whispering a mix of sorry's and sweet nothings. Coryo kissed my neck and pulled back.

"It's okay... stop crying, you're an ugly crier for a beautiful face. I love you" He said softly. I couldn't process the legitimacy of anything in this situation. His face relaxed fully and he was looking at me with a blank expression now. I wiped my tears and he smiled weakly before planting a gentle kiss on my lips. I fell into his warmth and fell in love with him all over again in that moment. He pulled back and gave my forehead a little peck.

"Let me show you how much you mean to me darling..." He spoke softly and I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug he mumbled a word into my skin but I couldn't make it out.

"easy..."

PART THREE

#coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games #tom blyth imagine #tbosas #president snow #young president snow #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #hunger games #thg series #thg

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antiquarianfics · 5 months

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Taken pt. 9

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: screaming, crying, throwing up. i hope you guys enjoy this part as much as i do. also, sorry for the hiatus. i kind of got distracted with life. anyhoo. also. not proofed.

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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previous part | series masterlist | next part

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“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.

Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.

Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.

“It’s Y/N.”

—

“Y/N’s alive?” Sam asks, but it’s mostly rhetorical. Fury and Coulson are the only ones who are not surprised.

“Agent Y/L/N-Barnes seems to be alive, yes. Of course, there is always the possibility that it’s a mask,” Coulson says.

“It has to be her,” Bucky mumbles to himself, focusing hard on the stilled image of you. He has believed you’re alive against all hope for months, and here you are, escaping Capital Hill.

“But if she’s alive, and if she’s the one killing U.S. politicians, then is she working with HYDRA?” Sam asks, anxiously eyeing Bucky.

Fury sighs, “We don’t know. All we know is that we need to stop her before word that an Avenger killed the president gets out.”

Bucky speaks up then.

“She’s not working for HYDRA. She wouldn’t do that.”

Tony sends Bucky a sympathetic look before playing devil’s advocate.

“We can’t know that. It’s out of character, but we never know how much HYDRA is truly capable of. They brainwashed you, so who’s to say they didn’t her?”

The room is tense, and Bucky is acutely aware that the team, his friends, are sympathetic. They’re sympathetic because they agree with Tony. Bucky shakes his head.

“That took years to program The Winter Soldier,” Bucky says cautiously, “and Y/N has a hell of a lot more to fight for than I did. If she’s working for HYDRA, then she’s playing an angle. Don’t you think it’s odd they let Bec go so easily? She had to have struck a deal.”

“Then why doesn’t she escape?” Natasha muses, but her tone tells Bucky she’s simply wondering aloud.

“Well, we wondered why she didn’t contact us through her phone,” Clint reminds. “Turned out she had a plan there; she led us right to the Siberian facility.”

Bucky shoots Clint an appreciative nod.

“Becca did say that they wanted her until Y/N struck a deal with them,” Steve remembers.

The room turns to look at him.

“We didn’t know what to do with that before now. We thought Y/N was dead, but if they faked her death, then that gets us off their backs to have her do what they want.”

“Still,” Sam says, “why not run?”

“They’re probably keeping a close eye on her. On us, even. She would run unless they have something to hold over her,” Natasha points out.

The team gets quiet for a while; everyone gets lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Fury breaks the silence.

“We don’t know who else HYDRA is targeting, but we imagine there are more assassinations planned.”

—

“Alright, so, it’s settled,” Tony says.

The team had spent hours devising a plan to rescue Y/N, anxiously and meticulously going over every detail and turning over every rock.

The Avengers let out a breath they weren’t aware they were holding. At this point, as if on cue, however, Coulson enters the conference room he and Fury had vacated hours ago.

“Coulson?” Steve asks, eyebrows raising at the appearance of the agent.

Coulson nods in acknowledgement, a tight smile spreading upon his lips.

“Stark, can you pull up the security camera footage for the complex?” Coulson asks, staring at the screen showing your SHIELD ID photo, background, skill set, and a list of the crimes you’ve committed up to this point.

Tony nods, voicelessly tapping at the device in front of him, pulling up the cameras. The screen changes from SHIELD’s information on you to a split of each of the complex’s cameras. Coulson takes a step forward, staring at the screen, analyzing it for something the Avengers don’t see.

“Coulson?” Natasha speaks. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“That,” Coulson points at the third box from the right. Tony zooms in on the mentioned camera footage.

“Shit.”

—

“Get Bec out of here!” Bucky demands, picking Rebecca up and handing her to Sam as the complex’s alarm system sounds. Sam nods, holding the toddler close to his chest before running off to get her somewhere safe.

“Buck, what’s your plan here?” Steve questions.

Bucky ignores his friend, taking off running towards the roof of the complex. The security footage showed the intrusion on the northwest most part of the building.

“Buck!”

“I’m saving my wife,” Bucky grumbles, putting more power in his steps, launching himself faster ahead.

—

When Bucky makes it to the roof, he does not have to try too hard to find you. In fact, he notes that you’re startling easy to find.

“Honey, I’m home,” you say cheekily, waving a casual hand at your husband when he lays eyes on you for the first time in months.

“Y/N,” Bucky breathes out, taking a step forward.

You’re leaning against the wall that surrounds the perimeter of the roof, arms crossed.

“James.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Fine.”

“I don’t particularly believe you,” you say, eyeing the dark bags beneath his eyes and the tired demeanor he holds.

“You’ve been gone for months. We thought you were dead. It’s not been so pleasant.”

You hum, pushing off the wall and walking towards the man. You step up against him, resting a gentle hand upon his chest.

“Hmm,” you hum. “You’re not wearing a suit, you didn’t bring any weapons…” You allow yourself to trail off, watching carefully for a reaction.

He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says cautiously, but something about the situation feels off. He isn’t sure he believes the statement himself anymore.

You sigh and step away.

“You’ve heard, I’m sure, what I’ve been up to.”

“I have.”

“Not very on brand for me.”

“No.”

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, neither is what I’m here to do.”

“And what are you here to do?” Bucky feels anxiety creep up his chest.

“Marking 3 names off my list,” you say. “You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?”

Bucky immediately clocks the question as odd. Not only is it weird that you’re addressing the murders you’ve committed as off brand, but to ask him about the only person from his past life as if he’s someone he met recently? To address Steve as Captain America? Bucky remembers the conversation the Avengers had recently, and he thinks you must be playing an angle, waiting for him to figure it out. He also knows your mannerisms better than his own, and he has never known you to speak so formally to him.

He feels a memory trying to come forward. A missing puzzle piece that would help him understand what’s going on.

You sigh, pulling Bucky away from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, James, but I’m on a tight schedule, and I can’t hang out here all day. So, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a To-Do list.”

Bucky stands a little taller.

“Doll, I can’t let you cross out names on that list.”

“Sure you can, and you will.”

“Why would I do that?”

You pout. “Because you promised to support me in good and bad,” you say, referring to his wedding vows.

“I didn’t mean stand by while you murder the people closest to you.”

“Well, shit,” you say before you throw a right hook into Bucky’s jaw and sprint towards the stairs while he’s distracted.

Bucky clutches his jaw with his hand before standing up straight. He usually would have anticipated the punch, but this whole situation has thrown him. And you have a habit of getting him to let his guard down.

“Shit,” he says before taking off after you.

You manage to avoid Bucky for a while as you make your way through the compound, but he does catch up to you.

You lay eyes on Steve and you sprint in his direction.

“Y/N! What? Stop! You don’t have to do this!” Steve attempts to reason, holding his shield up to deflect a bullet you send flying his way. Steve notes it wasn’t hard to deflect, and he stores that information away for later. After all, SHIELD first took note of you for to your sniping ability. You don’t miss.

“Sorry, Rogers,” you say, shrugging. “I’m just a girl doin’ what a girl’s gotta do. Y’kno—Agh!”

You are cut off, letting out an unattractive yelp as you fall to the floor. It takes a moment to get you bearings, but you quickly realize Bucky had tackled you.

You fight back, but you allow Bucky to slide your gun away from you and across the floor.

“Y/N, stop!” Bucky begs, grabbing hold of your wrists with his metal hand and holding your arms taut while he holds your body down by straddling your torso.

You—to Bucky’s surprise—stop. Then, you raise an eyebrow as if to ask, “What do you want?”

“What are you doing? Killing the president? Trying to kill Steve? What’s your angle here?”

“Have you ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?” You ask.

Bucky gives you a look. Your question, after all, is out of left field. You ignore the look and continue.

“It’s a Greek myth. Orpheus and Eurydice are in love, right? But Eurydice does and is trapped in the Underworld. Well, Orpheus goes on a quest to get her back, and the only condition Hades gives him is that he doesn’t turn around on the way back out of the Underworld.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“If he turned around, Eurydice would be trapped in the Underworld forever, and she and Orpheus would never be together again. Never have a life together.”

“Y/N.”

“Orpheus turned around. I always thought that was stupid. I mean, I guess if you love someone, you’d want to turn around and check on them. Make sure they’re still there. But, on the other hand, if you love someone, and trust them…”

“You trust they’ll still be following you even if you don’t turn around,” Bucky finishes.

“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t turn around, James.”

“What?”

While Bucky is confused, distracted by your story, you wrench your wrists out from his grasp and thrust up with your hips. You manage enough momentum to swing Bucky off of you and you climb on top of him, switching positions.

“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.

—

@just-henny y @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x fem!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader angst

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Prologue)

Haymitch x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

The Sixtieth Hunger Games will begin in five, four, three, two, one.

“Mom.” The boy at his mother’s bedside whispers, “Mom.” He shakes her shoulder lightly. She’s dreaming again and now, at the age of nine, he understands why he must be careful when waking her.

Y/N gasps, springing from the mattress, prepared to fight. But then she sees him. Everest, her sweet boy, forged in his father’s image. There is no denying, he’s her husband’s child through and through. “Sorry, sweetheart.” She sighs, letting both hands drop to her sides.

“S’ok.” He shrugs, stuffing worried hands into his pockets. “Dad’s with Arista, she’s pretty upset…doesn’t want you to go.” I don’t want you to go.

“Well,” Y/N forces a smile. “We don’t want to go without you either.” It was just like President Snow to demand they have children and then drag them away each year to mentor the games. Everest and Arista have only been required to join them in the Capitol for fanfare. The games are not about them anymore.

With Y/N aged twenty-nine and Haymitch forty, the novelty of their winnings has worn off. The most fascinating thing about them now is this, their love story and the family created from it. The anomaly that is Y/N Abernathy, Mayor Undersee’s eldest daughter, plucked from the reaping bowl at age fifteen. The girl who once hated her drunk of a mentor and grew to love him as the years passed.

The Capitol adores her, she is their darling. People hang off the edge of their seats, feasting on crumbs, anticipating her next move. What will she be wearing? Which victors sit within her inner circle?

Haymitch allows this, encourages it even. Because it keeps her safe. There is no cost too great. Y/N is everything Haymitch conditioned himself not to want. Snow knows exactly how deep his hooks are in. Killed Haymitch’s family because he didn’t appreciate the way he won the games; with an axe to the force field. Gave him a new family to dangle over his head years later.

Unfortunately for Haymitch, the cost of these theatrics means allowing Y/N’s former stylist to preen over her on reaping day.

Y/N can hear Vanity being ‘warmly’ welcomed by Haymitch on the first floor.

“Come on,” Y/N pats her son’s cheek. “Let’s go.”

Everest grins, racing toward the stairs. They do love their mother’s stylist and they only get to see her twice a year, if they’re lucky.

“You sure that headpiece is getting through the door, V?” Haymitch remarks, watching as the chandelier like dome attached to her skull pushes its way into their home.

Vanity scoffs, “good to see you too, Haymitch. What did you do to my darling?” The blue haired woman gasps at the sight of his five year old daughter, all but hysterical.

“I’m leaving her,” Haymitch sighs, shifting the little girl lightly in his arms.

“Tut, tut, my love.” Vanity coos, “Daddy will be back soon.”

“I want my Mommy to stay.” Arista sniffles, “you can’t take both.”

Everest reaches the bottom stair, saving Vanity from having to respond when he launches himself at the Capitol woman.

“Now this is a welcome,” Vanity ruffles his hair. “Look how big you are, my goodness.”

“I’ll be ten soon.”

“How the time flies.” Vanity catches sight of her victor. The first and only. “Y/N.”

“Hi.” Y/N smiles, wrapping both arms around herself. She is wearing a long sleep shirt with mismatched bottoms. The other woman is surely appalled at the sight.

“Let us…” Vanity’s eyes, unnaturally colored by contacts, flit about her, “get to work.”

————————————————————————

This year there is a bit of excitement at the reaping. Their female tribute actually volunteered, not something people really do in twelve. But it was for her sister and when it comes down to it, if Y/N was put in a position to choose between her little sister, Madge and herself facing the games, she would’ve done the same.

Y/N’s parents will tend the children until they return, same as they have every year since the kids were born. Leaving them never gets any easier, especially if one or both is crying when they go. Y/N steps onto the train to the Capitol, still in her ridiculous mirror ball of a gown. Waving their children goodbye.

Haymitch is there, tense hands resting at her shoulders. “They’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Y/N nods.

“We’ll be alright.”

“I know.”

Part 1

#the hunger games #hunger games #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x y/n #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #hunger games fanfiction #haymitch abernathy fanfic #hunger games fanfic #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #primrose everdeen

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cheesus-doodles · 25 days

Note

I’m definitely being greedy by sending a second but I had to share this… In the Manila timeline where Izzy wins, how would his relationship with reader change? But also, since we know Mikey is under his control at this point, would he let Mikey stay in contact with the reader??

UGHH JUST THINKIN ABOUT THAT MAKES MY SOUL ACHE 😭😭😭 HED have both of them on puppet strings… I’m so curious…

send as many as you want anon hehe, always happy to talk about Izzy!

Masterlist

‎

I did somewhat explore this in my Red Dragonflies AU, specifically latest chapter Swallow the Sun *cough*, but since that was in the circumstance of you being a former gang leader yourself, I'll write this one of you from the POV of you being a regular civilian!

‎

The main difference in Izana's relationship with you would be that there would be no reason for him to have to break you and your spirit to keep you with him after he had wins, so he doesn't. He actually likes you and all your personality, whatever it may be, and would very much want to keep you as you were when he first fell heads over heels, so with you being unable to fight back against him and his comparatively monstrous strength and instincts, there were much better ways to keep you in line.

Even as a yakuza boss himself, it would be rare for you to ever be allowed to leave his direct eye line no matter what Izzy was doing in the moment, and if you do, you would only do so only when accompanied by Kakucho. No one else. If neither men are free, that you're staying exactly where you are right by him. Izzy simply can't trust anyone else as far as he can throw them, not with someone as precious and dear to him as you.

Puppet string would be the right description for what would be your relationship with Izana. There were no decisions that you needed to make outside of what to wear (if Izzy hadn't already made up his mind what he wanted to see you in), and what to cook for him for meals - everything else in your life have already been decided for you. Truly, you were no more than a doll that doted and pampered and fawned over Izzy to patch the hole in his heart. He needed your love and attention more than anything, and now that he had you, you were not going to be doing much except tending to his needs.

Of course he didn't like to see you in pain and anguish - you were his darling, his princess - but after losing Shinichiro all those years ago, he couldn't lose you as well.

‎

And that extended to losing you to Mikey. Mikey played a different role, filled a different hole in Izana's heart - he was supposed to be his Shinichiro replacement. If the two of you had been friends previously, then there was no way in hell Izana would ever let you meet Mikey again. Ever.

For one and most importantly, you were his world, his Sun, and he was your Izzy. You were his. You didn't need anyone else but him, let alone Mikey. He would never give you the opportunity to form an attachment to anyone but him.

For two, Izana needed Mikey to stay in that depressed state to be able to control him. And if Mikey was allowed to meet you, all that hard work might be undone - he and Kisaki had already put so much effort into completely breaking Mikey down to turn him into Shinichiro, and there was no way that he was going to risk you giving any sense of hope or comfort to the former Toman President that would let him break out of his misery.

‎

So the answer would be that no. Absolutely not. You would never be allowed to stay in contact or even see Mikey.

Since the two of you were forcibly separated after Izana's win and Mikey started on his downward spiral, Mikey has never received any update on you and where you were - for all the blond-haired boy knew, you could have already been dead. Izana definitely played heavily into this, making references to you all the time but never confirming if it was you he was talking about. And after a while of the mind games, no doubt Mikey would have given up all hope on ever seeing you again.

Similar to what he does to Mikey, Izzy would also tease and dangle the promise of bringing you to meet the ex-Toman President in front of you as one of the tactics he uses to keep you in line, whispering to you all sorts of things about your former friend. That he was depressed, that he spoke constantly about missing you and if you could be dead, that he couldn't go on without you. Lies, but what would you know?

Izzy lamenting that he wants to bring you to go see and even speak with Mikey, but you were so ill-behaved that this tanned man didn't know if he can trust you. Would occasionally gift you photographs of Mikey just to convince you that the other was still alive, but always just a bit out of reach - the photos would never have his face, just his side or his back, or it would be a blurry shot.

‎

After all, his life was just perfectly right at the moment, so why would he risk ruining it all?

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flyingcakeee · 3 months

Text

Part 2 of cunty Williams Racing, a tired and shitty analysis by yours truly, Cake.

Today, we dive into our former Williams drivers.

And who better to start off with than Jenson Button himself? He's technically in the team as a Heritage Driver, and senior advisor regarding both the F1 race and Williams academy drivers, but we'll ignore that for the sake of this tumblr post ☺️

Jenson Button is just a cunty British man and this is not foreign knowledge. He coined the name Britney for Nico Rosberg due to his hyper sexual fixation on Britney Spears (or so I'm told 😀) and, let's be honest, there's not a lot of explanation needed here (I say after a whole paragraph).

Next, of course, Nico Rosberg himself.

My guy beat his teammate, albeit not in Williams, in equal machinery for the world championship and then dipped to be a girl dad. A Girl Dad. And he became a reporter. A F1 reporter. Cunty af in every picture too. Just can't deny this man.

You know who the other Nico to drive for Williams is? Nico Hülkenberg!

Also a girl dad, dyed his already blond hair to be platinum blond, HulKENberg, got one of the last pole positions for Williams after they hadn't had one in 5 years and then was dropped at the end of the year and he came back after a year. Sure, he is allergic to podiums but may I remind you that this man is a 24 Hours of Le Mans winner?

Next, everyone's favorite, George Russell. Should not be a surprise, really.

It's George Russell! What am I supposed to say? His doe eyes and now ungelled hair should be enough of a reason. And he's an absolute diva 🤍.

Now, what's more cunty than getting all the older men around your finger, Lance Stroll?

Lance Stroll has the hips to be the cunty princess he is, let's admit it. His first season he scores his first points in Canada and then gets third place in the race right after? And, as previously mentioned, he has all the middle aged men of the paddock in love with him. Fernando Alonso, Checo Pérez, Sebastian Vettel, the list goes on.

Ignoring team orders and getting a race win? That's some cunt level activities from Mark Webber!

Mark Webber will have a pilots license and manage to get 2 different cars to fly into the air 4 times. Yes 4 as twice was in a RedBull and twice in the Mercedes during the 1999 Le Mans. And then he looks absolutely hypnotized by his teammates and fellow drivers. It's the Australian in him.

A little break here to say, oh my fucking god there's so many drivers I can do. I can have Valtteri Bottas or Pastor Maldonaldo or Felipe Massa or Ralf Schumacher or Nicholas Latifi or like, anyone really. Anyways, let's continue ☺️

The man who sighed a picture of him after his team dropped him, Nyck de Vries.

Points your debut race and then getting pulled out the car like the princess you deserve to be, it's beautiful. And oh yeah, his name is Hendrik Johannes Nicasuis "Nyck" de Vries and I think that's very fitting. I hope he's enjoying Formula E because I'm going to buy into temptations and go to a race just to see my short princess 🤭.

Oh, you think I forgot the Queen herself, Susie Wolff? YOU ARE WRONG!!! 🥳🥳

I love Susie Wolff. Former Williams development driver and definitely could've been a great driver today if she was on the grid. And, she's president of the F1 Academy and defeated the FIA's little investigation probe which is funny because a lot of FIA executives have been quitting now soooo go Susie!!! Everyday I wonder how Toto Wolff got lucky to be her husband, the queen's husband ☺️

And let's end us off today with a picture of Lance's hips and one of the older men staring at it as if it's his property (probably is)

Beautiful.

At the end of the day, Williams fosters cunty drivers and team principal and it is my favorite thing ever. This isn't saying other teams don't possess any cunt energy, but Williams has a lot of it rooted in history and I am also sleep deprived and sick 🥳🥳🥳

#formula 1 #f1 #williams racing #jenson button #nico rosberg #nico hulkenberg #mark webber #lance stroll #george russell #nyck de vries #susie wolff

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saywhat-politics · 2 months

Text

Former President Donald Trump’s remarks about nuclear weapons during a Fox News town hall on Wednesday raised alarm from national security attorneys.

Asked by Fox News host Laura Ingraham about fans who worry about his “safety,” Trump said, “I worry about their safety too.”

“These people, everybody in this room is in great danger right now,” he said. “We have a nuclear weapon that if you hit New York, South Carolina is going to be gone too. I worry about their safety. I think it’s the reason I’m doing this.”

National security attorneys questioned if Trump let slip some classified information with his answer.

“Is Trump out there spilling the details on our nuclear weapons and the destructive range of those weapons in the midst of a Fox interview? Is it me or is he doing that?” asked national security lawyer Bradley Moss, questioning the media silence on “the former president potentially revealing classified information about our nuclear weapons arsenal on live TV.”

“Did the former President just unlawfully disclose classified information? Or just simply make something up to scare South Carolina residents to vote for him?” tweeted national security attorney Mark Zaid. “I'm not aware of any acknowledged nuclear weapon that has that type of impact radius.”

#donald trump #former president #presidential candidate #fox news #town hall

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hermitmoss · 1 year

Text

autistic gansey: the raven boys

literal thinking

All of the sources said that church watchers had to possess “the second sight” and Gansey barely possessed first sight before he put his contacts in.

It took Gansey a moment to realize that Ronan had made a joke, and by then, it was too late to laugh.

Gansey, misunderstanding, immediately asked her, “Why would you have to leave?”

“Coincidence?” Ronan asked. “I think not.” It was meant to be sarcastic. Gansey had said I don’t believe in coincidences so often that he no longer needed to.

He said, “I don’t think that minor children are required to get gifts for their parents. I’m a dependent. That’s the definition of dependent, is it not?”

Several exasperated faces turned on Gansey. Maura said, “Well, he’s not going to just go away because you don’t want to deal with him.” “I didn’t say it was possible,” Gansey replied, not looking up from his splint. “I just said that it was what I would like.”

"His name wasn’t really Butternut, was it?" Gansey asked Adam in a low voice.

food sensitivities

Gansey said, “Tell me there’s no sauce on this burger.” Dropping the strap from his teeth, Ronan scoffed. “Please.” “No pickle, either,” Adam said

stimming

The area around him smelled strongly of mint from the leaf he chewed absently.

He ran his thumb back and forth across his bottom lip, a habit he never seemed to notice and Adam never bothered to point out.

Gansey was crumpled on his bed, earbuds in, eyes closed. Even with the hearing gone in his left ear, Adam could hear the tinny sound of the music, whatever Gansey had played in order to keep himself company, to lure himself to sleep.

special interest

Gansey couldn’t resist talking about Glendower. He never could.

But Gansey never minded retelling the story. He’d related the events like they’d just happened, thrilled again

he was wondering if it was more than the ordinary curiosity people possessed when faced with Gansey and his obsessive accessories. He knew Gansey would find him overly suspicious, unnecessarily proprietary of a search Gansey was more than willing to share with most people.

“We talking about Gansey the third and his New Age obsession?” the secretary asked.

what he found was that Richard Gansey III was more obsessed with the ley line than he had ever been. Something about the entire research process seemed … frantic. What is wrong with this kid? Whelk wondered

It was suddenly difficult not to be excited by the idea of explaining it all to her.

The easy way that he began the story, at once striding through grass and eyeing the EMF reader, let Blue know that he had told it many times before.

“If you’d just asked,” Gansey said, “I would’ve told you everything in there. I would’ve been happy to. It wasn’t a secret.”

masking and mirroring accents

Adam remembered finding him intimidating when he first met him. There were two Ganseys: the one who lived inside his skin, and the one Gansey put on in the morning when he slid his wallet into the back pocket of his chinos. The former was troubled and passionate, with no discernible accent to Adam’s ears, and the latter bristled with latent power as he greeted people with the slippery, handsome accent of old Virginia money.

It was a default answer, she saw; he fell back onto his powerful politeness when he was taken by surprise. Also, he was still watching Adam, taking his cues from him as to how he should react to her. Adam nodded, once, briefly, and the mask slipped just a little more. Blue wondered if the President Cell Phone demeanor ever vanished completely when he was around his friends. Maybe the Gansey she’d seen in the churchyard was what lay beneath.

A few minutes later, when Gansey climbed into the front seat beside the pilot, she saw that he was grinning, effusive and earnest, incredibly excited to be going wherever they were going. It was nothing like his previous, polished demeanor.

There was something about the timbre of his voice that surprised Blue. It wasn’t until he spoke again she realized he was using the tone she’d heard him use with Adam.

This Gansey, this story-telling Gansey, was a different person altogether from any of the other versions of him she’d encountered. She couldn’t not listen.

Gansey had always felt as if there were two of him: the Gansey who was in control, able to handle any situation, able to talk to anyone, and then, the other, more fragile Gansey, strung out and unsure, embarrassingly earnest, driven by naive longing. That second Gansey loomed inside him now, more than ever, and he didn’t like it.

some days Gansey wished that he could be him, because Adam was so very real and true in a way that Gansey couldn’t ever seem to be.

Gansey was first into the room, and he clearly hadn’t expected to find anyone there, because his features hadn’t been arranged at all to disguise his misery. When he saw Blue, he immediately managed to pull a cordial smile from somewhere. And it was so very convincing. She had seen his face just a second before, but even having seen his expression, it was hard to remind herself that the smile was false. Why a boy with a life as untroubled as Gansey’s would have needed to learn how to build such a swift and convincing false front of happiness was beyond her.

not understood/accidentally offensive/words coming out wrong

The Aglionby boy appeared puzzled for a long moment, and then realization dawned. “Oh, that was not how I meant it. That is not what I said.”

To his credit, the Aglionby boy didn’t speak right away. Instead, he thought for a moment and then he said, without heat, “You said you were working for living. I thought it’d be rude to not take that into account. I’m sorry you’re insulted. I see where you’re coming from, but I feel it’s a little unfair that you’re not doing the same for me.”

He hadn’t meant to be offensive but, in retrospect, it was possible he had been. This was going to eat at him all evening. He vowed, as he had a hundred times before, to consider his words better.

He’d managed to offend again, with no effort at all.

After a moment, he said, "Sometimes I’m afraid he’ll never really understand me."

I did tell him, right? I did say that we were to wait. It’s not that he didn’t understand me.

Words pressed against his mouth, begged to be said, but he kept silent.

But Gansey’s words had somehow become unwitting weapons, and he didn’t trust himself to not accidentally discharge them again.

“My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.

specifically coming across as condescending

She clearly hadn’t found him condescending. Which was probably because she hadn’t heard him speak.

“Sometimes he’s very condescending.” Adam looked at the ground. “He doesn’t mean to be.

“Really?” Gansey asked, so innocently startled by this that it was clear that Adam had been right before — he hadn’t meant to be condescending.

“God, I’m sick of your condescension, Gansey,” Adam said. “Don’t try to make me feel stupid. Who whips out repugnant? Don’t pretend you’re not trying to make me feel stupid.” “This is the way I talk.

honesty

Adam suspected Gansey’s preference was because Ronan was earnest even if he was horrible, and with Gansey, honesty was golden.

“So I think we deserve the truth. Tell me you know something but you don’t want to help me, if that’s what’s going on, but don’t lie to me.”

“I’m going to need everyone to be straight with each other from now on. No more games. This isn’t just for Blue, either. All of us.”

He wasn’t sure how to speak without hurting Ronan. He couldn’t lie to him.

“age-inappropriate”

Gansey himself sat at an old desk with his back to them, gazing out an east-facing window and tapping a pen. His fat journal lay open near him, the pages fluttering with glued-in book passages and dark with notes. Adam was struck, as he occasionally was, by Gansey’s agelessness: an old man in a young body, or a young man in an old man’s life.

In his best professor voice

He sounded so old, Blue thought. So formal in comparison to the other boys he’d brought. There was something intensely discomfiting about him

once again Blue got the sense that he seemed older than the boys he’d brought with him.

There was something very ancient about him just then, with the tree arched over him and his eyelids rendered colorless in the shadows.

“You haven’t been a dependent since you were four. You went straight from kindergarten to old man with a studio apartment.”

Malory had been the first one to take fifteen-year-old Gansey seriously, a favor for which Gansey would not soon stop being grateful for.

journal is comfort object

Gansey retreated to his bed, though he didn’t lie down. He reached for his journal, but it wasn’t there; he’d left it at Nino’s the night of the fight.

Whelk held his hand out for the journal. Gansey swallowed. He asked, “Whelk — sir — are you sure this is the only way?” The journal weighted his hands. He didn’t need it. He knew everything in it. But it was him. He was giving everything that he’d worked for away. I will get a new one.

alexithymia

He thought this feeling inside him was shame.

Gansey tried several different ways to think of the situation, but there wasn’t any way he could paint it that made it hurt less. Something kept fracturing inside him.

Gansey couldn’t begin to explain the size of this awfulness. He only knew that it burst inside him, again and again, fresh every time he considered it.

some complicated longing to settle an argument that waged deep inside himself.

overwhelming emotions

More than anything, the journal wanted. It wanted more than it could hold, more than words could describe, more than diagrams could illustrate. Longing burst from the pages, in every frantic line and every hectic sketch and every dark-printed definition. There was something pained and melancholy about it.

His bald expression held something new: not the raw delight of finding the ley line or the sly pleasure of teasing Blue. She recognized the strange happiness that came from loving something without knowing why you did, that strange happiness that was sometimes so big that it felt like sadness.

He couldn’t stand it, all of this inside him. In the end, he was nobody to Adam, he was nobody to Ronan. Adam spit his words back at him and Ronan squandered however many second chances he gave him. Gansey was just a guy with a lot of stuff and a hole inside him that chewed away more of his heart every year.They were always walking away from him. But he never seemed able to walk away from them.

“too serious”

Things seemed to weigh heavily enough on Gansey as it was.

His voice was peculiar. Formal and certain.

~awkward

He knocked fists with Adam. Coming from Gansey, the gesture was at once charming and self-conscious, a borrowed phrase of another language.

“I don’t know what else to say.” “‘Sorry,’” she recommended. “I said that already.”

clumsiness and disorganisation

It wasn’t that he meant to be careless — as Adam told him again and again, “Things cost money, Gansey” — it was just that he never seemed to realize the consequences of his actions until too late.

[Ronan] stopped the recorder and said, “You’re dripping gas on your pants, geezer.”

Gansey crashed onto the driver’s seat.

Then there were the notes, made with a half-dozen different pens and markers, but all in the same business-like hand. They circled and pointed and underlined very urgently. They made bulleted lists and eager exclamation points in the margins. They contradicted one another and referred to one another in third person. Lines became cross-hatching became doodles of mountains became squirrelly tire tracks behind fast-looking cars

Not the tidy stacks of an intellectual attempting to impress, but the slumping piles of a scholar obsessed.

It looked like the home of a mad inventor or an obsessed scholar or a very messy explorer; after meeting Gansey, she was beginning to suspect that he was all of these things.

EfficiencyTM

Gansey derived a large part of his pleasure from meeting goals, and a large part of that large part was pleased by meeting goals efficiently. There was nothing more efficient than aiming for your destination as the crow flew.

RulesTM

They didn’t even have the authority to choose an alcoholic beverage. They couldn’t be deciding who deserved to live or die.

likes mechanical things (not counting the camaro because that’s just Too Many Quotes to compile)

He liked the little knobs and toggles and gauges of cockpits, and he liked the technological backwardness of the simple clasp seat belts.

not understanding/realizing things

Again, his face was somehow puzzled by the fact of their hand-holding.

It hadn’t occurred to Gansey that if the Camaro had been operating properly, fleeing would’ve been an option.

Gansey didn’t understand, but he nodded.

And now Gansey was a king here, and he didn’t even know how to use it.

difficulty reading people/nonverbal cues not impacting him

Gansey suspected that none of them was being completely honest with their replies, but at least he’d told them what he wanted. Sometimes all he could hope for was getting it on the record.

One of Ronan’s eyebrows was raised, sharp as a razor. Gansey strapped his journal closed. “That doesn’t work on me.

He didn’t believe she was really offended; her face didn’t look like it had at Nino’s when they’d first met, and her ears were turning pink. He thought, possibly, he was getting a little better at not offending her

need for certainty

What Gansey needed out of life was facts, things he could write in his journal, things he could state twice and underline, no matter how improbable those facts were.

generally unusual ways of thinking

An astonished Roman historian commented, You look under rocks no one else thinks to pick up, slick.

general “strangeness”

Adam leaned toward her as if he was about to say something, but ultimately, he just shook his head, smiling, like Gansey was a joke that was too complicated to explain.

“ARE YOU LISTENING, GLENDOWER? I AM COMING TO FIND YOU!” Gansey’s voice, ebullient and ringing, echoed off the tree-covered slopes around the field. Adam and Blue found him standing in the middle of a clear, pale path, his arms stretched out and his head tilted back as he shouted into the air.

“You find it not normal?” She could tell that he very much wanted her to say that he wasn’t normal, so she replied, “Oh, I’m sure it’s quite normal in some circles.” He looked a little hurt, but most of his attention was on the meter, which showed two faint red lights. He remarked, “I’d like to be in those circles.

Gansey couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice. “‘Strange’ doesn’t help me. I don’t know what ‘strange’ means.”

He was himself, but he was something else, too — that something that Blue had first seen in him at the boys’ reading, that sense of otherness, of something more, seemed to radiate from that still portrait of Gansey enshrined in the dark tree.

not knowing other people don’t know things he knows

“Gansey, seriously,” Adam interrupted, to Blue’s relief. “Nobody knows what quiddity is.”

“Nobody knows who Ned Kelly is, either, Gansey.”

Born This Way

A small voice within Adam asked whether he would ever look this grand on the inside, or if it was something you had to be born into.

just. this. the way he knows to think this, the way he instinctively compares them to aliens that humans mistreat and that he logically shouldn’t love.

They were like aliens, Gansey thought. Aliens that we have treated very badly for a very long time. If I were a tree, I would have no reason to love a human.

#richard campbell gansey iii #the raven cycle #autism #*#my meta #meta #autistic headcanon #disability #trc #s4v

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punisheddonjuan · 16 days

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Another Chotiner interview, another official makes an idiot of himself and lets on far more than he should have. I honestly don't know how Chotiner manages to do this again and again, have these people just not read any of his previous interviews? It's not like his questions are particularly pointed. I suppose he simply gives people enough rope.

What I’ve been struck by in the last few months is the willingness of the Biden Administration to be humiliated by the Israelis. And I’m not talking about this in a moral or ethical sense. Antony Blinken, the Secretary of State, takes a trip to Tel Aviv and the Israelis embarrass him by announcing land seizures in the West Bank during the visit. Stuff like this has happened multiple times. Or Netanyahu, responding to Biden saying he “has a red line” around Rafah, defies him publicly and even says he has his own “red line.” I’m surprised the Administration doesn’t have a little bit more pride. I keep thinking, even if they don’t want to change the policy, they must be having some sort of human reaction to— Oh, I’m sure that’s right. When Bill Clinton emerges from his first meeting with Benjamin Netanyahu, in June of 1996, Clinton explodes: “Who’s the fucking superpower here?” James Baker banned Netanyahu from the State Department when he was deputy foreign minister. This is part of what I call the system, the structure of the U.S.-Israeli relationship. Someone might say, “Why is the most powerful country in human history essentially taking orders from a country that relies on it for aid? What exactly is going on here?” I’ve been looking at the U.S.-Israeli relationship for decades. I left the government in 2003, during the second Bush Administration. I’d been in government since Jimmy Carter. There was a time when someone could say with a straight face that the three ingredients that made the relationship were a high coincidence of values, a high coincidence of interest, and a strong base of domestic support. During the past fifteen to twenty years, many of which are under Benjamin Netanyahu’s purview as Prime Minister, the value affinity, the perception that Israel shares common values with us, is under more stress. No President I ever worked for sought a major conflict or confrontation with Israeli Prime Ministers. They sought to manage rather than to confront. The practical reality is that if you want to get anything done, even if it involves tensions and pressure, you have to find a way to work with, rather than against, the Israeli government. My analysis has now been tested six months into the worst Israeli-Palestinian crisis that we’ve ever experienced. I just worry about a situation where we throw up our hands and say, “Well, the United States, the most powerful country on earth, has no choice but to keep arming a country that’s starving people.” But, Isaac, look, just between you and me— It’s an interview, but sure. The question is: why? I’ve offered you the best explanation based on literally twenty-seven years of watching and participating in the U.S.-Israeli relationship. I can’t explain it. I think your question is a really good one.

[...]

You’re saying you have no investment in one analysis or another. I could be wrong, but when I was listening to you talk, and you discussed the horrors of October 7th, I sensed an emotion in your voice that I haven’t heard at any other time in this conversation. I don’t want to criticize that, but I do wonder if the people who make policy in America don’t have that same emotion when it comes to Palestinian lives. Do you think that’s fair? I think it’s fair to say, yes, that America and Americans have a pro-Israeli sensibility. I don’t think there’s any question about that. Clinton wrote in his memoir that he loved Yitzhak Rabin as he loved no man, rarely loved any other man, which is extraordinary. I watched Clinton grieve in the wake of Rabin’s murder. And when Biden gave the speech on October 10th, you watched the tears well up in his eyes. He talked about the black hole of loss. He’s conflated the tragedies in his own personal life with what Israelis felt on that day. Yes, that’s very moving, but there is another kind of loss going on now which he apparently can’t conflate with his own experience. Oh, if you’re asking me: Do I think that Joe Biden has the same depth of feeling and empathy for the Palestinians of Gaza as he does for the Israelis? No, he doesn’t, nor does he convey it. I don’t think there’s any doubt about that.

Christ.

#link #article #new yorker #palestine

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anonymousbardd · 2 months

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🤍 | Him & His Secretary

Samuel Seo x FemReader

────── 〔✿〕──────

"Mr. Seo, there's someone who wishes to see you," a young girl said, "Who are they?" The former President of the fourth Affiliate, Samuel Seo asked.

"They claim to know you, he goes by the name Jake Kim," (F/n) replied.

Samuel's ears perked up and he glanced at the young woman in front of him, "What does he want?" He asked, still looking down at his computer.

"I want to talk to you," a dark haired man entered.

"You're interrupting my work, you know?" Samuel said, he then glanced at the young woman, in which (F/n) replied with a nod.

"It seems like Mister Seo is busy at he moment, it would be appreciated if you leave."

"No can do sweetie," Jake replied, (F/n) sighed and pushed her glasses up, "You seem to have misunderstood, Mister Kim, that wasn't a request."

"You looking for a fight?" Jake asked, looking down at the woman, "Fight me if you dare, there are cameras here."

"If shown to the authorities, who do you think will be more favoured?"

Jake clicked his tongue and looked at Samuel and frowned, "I'll come back," he said.

Samuel hummed and shooed him away, a noticeable annoyance crept on his face.

Jake then left, (F/n) was also about to leave the office and Samuel stopped her, "Stay, (L/n)," he said.

"Is there anything you need help with?" (F/n) asked, shifting her attention to his, "Close the door," Samuel smiled.

The room suddenly felt tense, the way Samuel sat and looked at (F/n) to an almost intimidating degree.

"I didn't think you'd be capable with such bluff," Samuel grinned, (F/n) smiled and held her clipboard up to her chest, "I'm just doing what I'm needed to do."

Samuel chuckled and stood up from his chair, "Come closer, (F/n)," he said, the young woman obeyed and walked towards the muscular man.

Samuel leaned closer, he held (F/n)'s face by the chin, his eyes looked at hers.

Samuel grinned as he looked at the young woman's eyes, the way she looked at him completely change, her pupils were filled with lust.

"You're very interesting, Miss (L/n)," he said.

As the muscular man was about to close his eyes, Jake busted in with Jerry and some others.

They were all taken it back when they saw the sight of the two of them so close to each other.

(F/n) hurriedly pulled away and faced the door, while Samuel cleared his throat and fixed his hair, "What makes you think you can barge in like that in my office?" Samuel asked, the tension in the air was somewhat awkward.

"I told you, I'll be back," Jake replied.

"I didn't think you'd be back this quick, did you miss me that much already?" Samuel asked, raising a brow.

"Guess you could say that, come back to big deal."

Samuel let out an amuse laugh and walked away from his desk, "Give me a reason to," Samuel said.

"You and your lover could live freely," Jake replied.

(F/n)'s face flushed red when she heard the word lover as a way to describe her relationship with Samuel.

"She's not my lover, she is my secretary," Samuel stated, his cheeks were slightly tinted with pink.

"My secretary and I are more than capable to live freely, in our own separate ways, thank you," Samuel added.

"You're bold for going back here," Jake let out a huff and crosses his arms, "The way miss secretary delivered the bluff could have fooled me, but fortunately for us, we've already got this place scanned out."

"Mister Seo has important things he must tend to..." (F/n) said, putting her hair up in a ponytail.

Jake had a sly grin and cracked his neck, "Sure, but I'm not leaving here until we have a proper conversation."

Samuel sighed and smirked, "If that's what you want, then..." His eyes widened, Samuel's gaze looked at Jake's, "Entertain me."

══════════════════ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

┆➽───── TimeSkip ────────❥

"Sir, are you alright?" (F/n) asked as she held Samuel's shoulder, "I'm fine, don't get in my way," he growled.

(F/n) sighed, the office had turn into a mess, the other members of Big Deal were too frightened to come in-between the two fighting men.

Surprisingly, no one has yet come to dispose of the intruders, half an hour had passed.

(F/n) sighed and looked at the two men who were breathing heavily, "You both are tired, you should stop."

"Don't worry about us, sweetheart, this will be over in no time," Jake said in such a way that triggered Samuel.

(F/n) frowned and got in between the two of them, "How about I propose you a deal," she said, Jake paused for a moment and looked at the woman, "Continue."

"Leave the office and help pay for the damages, and I'll schedule you an appointment for a meeting with Mister Seo," she said.

"The hell are you doing?" Samuel spat, he glared at the woman in front of him, "Mister Samuel, we both know that you aren't in the condition to fight for a little more longer."

"After all, you still haven't fully recovered from the kidnapping incident," she added.

(F/n) looked back at the tired man with a cold gaze, "As your secretary, I can't have you getting more injuries."

Jake let out a huff and stood straight, "The deal isn't too shabby, how do I know you're not lying to me," he asked.

(F/n) pushed up her glasses and smiled, "Mister Kim, I never go back on my word."

Jake nodded and turned his back away from the two, "Alright then, how long am I going to wait?"

"Approximately a week, specifically, Tuesday 3:30pm," (F/n) said.

"Alright then, I'll see ya later, Samuel."

After all of them left, Samuel grabbed (F/n) by the collar, "Why the fuck did you do that?!" He asked, his eyes were enraged.

(F/n) sighed and placed a hand on Samuel's cheek, "You're breaking yourself, you need rest."

She then glanced at his lips and back to his eyes, "Didn't Mister Goo himself told you that you need to take it easy?" (F/n) asked, her voice was soft and gentle.

Samuel clicked his tongue and looked away, "Fine."

After a long night, Samuel and (F/n) headed back to Samuel's apartment.

"Would you like a warm bath?" (F/n) asked, Samuel sighed and nodded, (F/n) helped the young man take off his coat, he had serval cuts and bruises.

"I'll heat up the water for you," (F/n) said, she headed to the bathroom and opened the water, she then poured in some soap, causing the water to foam up with bubbles.

The young woman got distracted and she started playing with the foamy water, as she did, Samuel walked in wearing a bathrobe.

He caught sight of his usual cold and serious secretary being gentle and calm.

Samuel cleared his throat causing (F/n) to let out a quiet squeek, "Ah—.., Sir I didn't hear you come in," she awkwardly chuckled.

"A bubble bath?" Samuel asked, raising a brow, he gave the young girl a look that said, "Do I look like a child to you?"

(F/n) giggled, a sweet sound coming of her lips made Samuel feel a tug in his stomach.

"It'll help you relax, sir."

Samuel sighed and took off his bathrobe with no shame whatsoever.

He slowly got in the warm bath, as he soaked his body, he let out a deep breath and relaxed.

Samuel closed his eyes and rested he arms on both sides of the tub.

(F/n) then fetched a cloth that was wet and soapy to help clean Samuel.

She gently rubbed the cloth on his body, starting with his right arm, her soft touch made Samuel ease up.

The way (F/n) softly cleaned him like he's a delicate antique vase, that with any wrong move it'll shatter.

"What would you like for dinner tonight, sir?" The young woman asked, Samuel grabbed the young girl's wrist and looked at her eyes.

"Stop it..." He muttered, (F/n) looked at him with a concerned look, "You... You can't keep doing this to me, (F/n)."

"What are you—..," Samuel cut her off by looking at her, his eyes were filled an emotion (F/n) never saw in him before.

His cheeks were flushed with red and his breathing raced.

"How long have you been working for me?" He asked, "Almost two years now..."

Samuel chuckled and held (F/n)'s hand to his cheek, "Two hears, huh..." He said.

"That's how long I've been wanting you."

(F/n)'s eyes widen from his words, "What do you mean...?" She asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, (F/n), I see it in your eyes, your voice, the way you move."

(F/n) sighed and slightly frowned, "Come on now... Don't tell me you're falling in love too..." Her voice cracked as she looked at Samuel's eyes, her own were starting to get filled by tears.

Samuel chuckled and held (F/n)'s chin, "Why're you crying?" He asked, "We both know how shitty this will end up."

The muscular man sighed and smiled, he then pecked (F/n) on the lips and looked at her eyes, "I do... And I don't care, in the end, I get what I want."

(F/n) sighed and splashed Samuel with water, catching him off gaurd, "H-hey! What was that for?!" He asked, letting out a playful laugh.

"You're and idiot," (F/n) muttered, hiding her flustered face, "Yeah? Well I'll be your idiot, forever."

#lookismoneshot #lookism #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 months

Note

Congratulations on +4000 followers. You deserve all the support <3 May I request 🗡️ with Lucifer? Tbh I have LOTS of requests, these prompts have my head running wild. But I'll settle for one for now ^^' have a good day/night :)

Hahaha, thank you, and we're glad you like the prompts!! We're quite excited about them too! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

"Let the knife leave its mark." - Lucifer

content warning: violence, torture, gore/blood

Lucifer has never much minded being called a sadist. He's been accused of it since long before he became a demon. If anything, some might even think he's gone soft since the fall, or so Simeon teases.

His present victim, however, would disagree. Unlike the former seraph, he never actually knew Lucifer as an angel. But what the Avatar of Pride is doing to him now cannot possibly be called soft -- can it?

Lucifer takes his time, carefully examining the way the blood snakes its way down the blade with the judgmental eye of a professor examining his student's work. But although he has been known to teach the occasional course at RAD, and the lesser demon before him is indeed a student at the academy, this is most certainly not standard coursework.

With a tut, Lucifer stands and plucks a similar tiny knife out from the stomach of the puppet in Dresop's hands. The lesser demon winces hard, trying his best to resist automatically squeezing on the doll as the knife that was in his own belly removes itself and disappears. He'd made that mistake earlier, and had earned himself some extra bruises in the process.

"The angle is 0.2 degrees off. Again," the Avatar of Pride instructs, closing up the other's wound with a wave as he hands Dresop the miniature blade again for the umpteenth time.

How long has he been at this, now?

It's an effective punishment, to be sure; over the last several hours, he certainly has come to regret his actions quite deeply. The lesser demon had attacked and injured one of the RAD fangol team members in hopes of opening up a spot for himself to join before the yearly tournament. When he'd been captured, the student council vice president had offered him a choice: Dresop could either inflict the same wounds upon himself once, using this puppet, or Lucifer would do it to him fifty thousand times over himself.

Dresop had chosen what he'd thought was the obvious choice. He hadn't understood what it had actually meant.

He understands now, too late. The Avatar of Pride is unrelentingly strict, and he will not accept anything short of perfection. It'll only extend his punishment further if he's careless about where he strikes.

His eyes are bleary with pain, but he tries to blink away the fuzziness from his vision so he can focus again on the photo of the fangol player's injuries. With a deep breath, he attempts to stop his fingers from trembling as well, trying again to line up the tip of the knife on the puppet to match how the injury looks in the picture.

Another knife materializes in his stomach again as he pushes the blade in, and Dresop has to choke down the bloody bile rising in his throat before his hand shakes from the convulsions, earning a wry smirk from Lucifer.

The Avatar of Pride leans down to examine Dresop's handiwork once again, then slowly straightens back up so he can look down upon the shaking fiend hunched before him.

"Well, after sixty-three thousand, two-hundred forty-seven attempts, it appears you've finally managed to produce a single satisfactory result," he remarks, a vicious smile spreading across his lips. "We can finally let the knife leave its mark."

He hands the demon another one.

"Only twelve more to go, then. And I expect you ought to be quicker about it this time."

#we also still have your ask from....a while ago #we do plan get to it eventually!!#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #4000 follower celebration #mod chaos in the devildom #gore cw #blood cw #torture cw #violence cw

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twirlingsmilingwriting · 4 months

Text

Tolerate It pt. 3 || Young! Coriolanus Snow X reader

"Took this dagger in me and removed it, gained the weight of you then lose it... If its all in my head tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow, I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it"

You don't need to read pt 1 to understand what is happening but if you want to ITS HERE

Part two is a little necessary but you'll prob catch on. Part two HERE

TLDR: Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short-term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt for him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with.

Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), alcohol, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing, unclear motives, crying, death, the reader being so delulu and manipulated omg, slight classism, self unaliving, blood

WORD COUNT: 7k

A/N: This is a dialogue-heavy one. Lots of yappin today y'all. Also a LOT and I mean a LOT darker than the others. I POSTED THIS LAST NIGHT BUT FORGOT TO PUT ANY TAGS SO I GOTTA REPOST IT

The morning light peered through the curtains of our bedroom ever so slightly, just enough that I could feel the warmth on my nose. I scrunched my face and squirmed under the covers. It wasn't until I felt the weight of his body move from beside me and get out of bed, that I reached my arm out for Coriolanus just to be greeted with nothing. I fluttered my eyes open and looked over. I watched intently while he threw on some clothes. God, he was gorgeous. Strikingly blond curls bouncing while he moved, his toned body with broad shoulders, a thin waist, those blue eyes and sharp jaw, he was so stunning. I love my husband so much. I whispered a quick 'good morning' to him and all he could do was hum in response. I sat up in the bed and used the sheet to cover myself up.

"Where are you going, Darling?"

"I have some business to attend to. You wouldn't understand, my beautiful empty head."

Aww. He called me beautiful. He gave me a quick glance before heading out and slamming the door behind him. I got out of bed and scoured the room for something decent to put on. Clothes from the night before had been scattered and I knew I'd have to add laundry to today's agenda. I picked up a white silk shirt from atop the dress and I threw the shirt over my head, I let out a soft sigh, looking over at myself in the tall gold mirror taking note of the smudged makeup and eyeliner that had dried in blackened streaks down my face from last night's tears. Tiny hickies decorated my neck and collarbones and I couldn't stop the smile that spread on my face from the joy I felt from Coriolanus claiming me as his. Gratitude is the best way I can describe the feeling. I am married to the most powerful man in Panem. What could I have done to deserve this?

Our relationship got rocky sometimes, yes, but he was just busy. I can't help but blame myself for how he was treating me after we got married. To be fair, he did just become president. I can't even imagine how stressful that must've been for him. It made sense why it felt like he had no time for me. Last night he admitted he never even knew I felt so neglected, it must've been my fault. Clearly, he loves me right?

Last night, I felt so loved, the way he kissed me and wrapped his arms around me, his aroma filled my senses. He loves me so much, if he didn't he wouldn't be showing me off to a whole nation of people right?

I kept asking myself for reassurance, but I had my answer, no one just marries someone they don't love.

Right?

Of course, he does. I remember when it started, it was real, so real. He's just been so tired these past few months. He has his reasons and I should understand that I can't be so selfish to be in his life taking up too much space and time. I am lucky for the sentences I will get in the story of a monumental man. Looking in the mirror of the vanity, I took a deep breath and smiled in contentment. My eyes continued to scan the display. The vanity was a white desk and drawer set with a large and extravagant mirror outlined with gold. I had hand-painted vines of ivy on the wood. The desk had makeup and my rose-scented perfume. Honestly, I always preferred fruity and sweet scents but Coryo loves it more when I smell like roses. My fingers tapped the delicate glass bottle before I placed it back down and walked to the window to look over the garden where we had the party last night.

Tables were still set up and cups littered the lawn. I giggled a little bit, remembering the fun people were having dancing around the area without a care in the world. There was always a certain type of peace that came after parties when everyone left. Similar to nostalgia where it's that strong sense of bliss but also a certain emptiness that comes from the drop from high emotions and energy to nothingness. Still, the memories of the fun of last night came back to me. A few men dressed in white peacekeeper uniforms started to file into the area and I cocked an eyebrow up in confusion. They must be coming to clean up the trash. My eyes followed them.

That's when I saw it.

The body of a tall man with ginger hair lay lifeless on his back on the stone pathway of the garden. It was the same man that I had talked with last night, Curtis. His eyes were rolled back into his head and speckles of blood could be seen on the corners of his mouth. A cup was held loosely in his hand. I gasped and my jaw hung low in shock. How could this have happened? Did he choke on something? Got into a fight? The peacekeepers started to harshly pick up his body and filed him out. Did Coryo know about this? The blood quickly left my face and I felt a sinking sense of doom in my stomach.

I had only known the man for a moment, but I felt like he was a good man. He didn't deserve whatever happened to him. The peacekeepers left the area and then moments later the maids came in to clean. Tears started to prick the corner of my eyes before I gulped heavily. Maybe he just drank too much last night. The red was just dried wine...

Yes

That made sense right...?

I had to think of something to ease my mind. Maybe I could ask Coryo about it later. More and more maids filed into the area, their black uniforms making the whole scene previously seem more grim. Red started appearing in my teary-eyed peripheral vision and I quickly shut the curtains. My chest heaved up and down as I struggled to catch my breath. I had to collect myself. I probably didn't understand the situation fully, Coriolanus knows what's going on, he always does. I won't worry about it until he comes home. I walked over the desk and wrote little notes for him on a few pieces of paper, scattering them around the bedroom. Then, I went to take a shower. I was going to have lunch with my mother today, I had to get ready.

The doorbell rang and I walked over to answer it. Instantly, my mother had wrapped her arms around me bringing me into a warm hug.

"Y/N! Sweetheart I missed you so much it's been so long," she spoke softly and I couldn't help the childish smile that dragged across my face.

"I haven't seen you since the wedding mom I missed you too," she loosened her grip on me and walked into the house.

"Wow... you truly are living in a life of luxury now sweetie look at this place... I see you put your little artistic flair on things haha," she joked and awed at the size of the house.

"Oh, the little paintings? I didn't think other people would notice them haha, after I dust I like to add the little things and details around. I've been hoping Coryo would notice but he's just a man, and he's so busy and tired all the time I can't blame him for not noticing. You should look at the plates when we eat today! I've been trying to add things to the table wear, which makes eating a lot more fun."

She continued to look around and I watched intently while her eyes followed the small roses, vines, clouds, and butterflies I had painted on the pillars and edges of the house. She then brought her attention back to me and pressed her lips into a thin smile, a glint of sadness was painted into her stormy eyes.

"Sweetheart, you look so thin, are you eating well? He doesn't have you on some crazy diet does he? With the amount of money you guys have I feel like you should be eating three-course meals for every meal..."

"Mom please~ I'm an adult, don't worry about me so much."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Come on let's go sit down at the table, foods' almost ready." I interlocked my arm with hers and started to guide her to the dining room. We sat facing each other. The chefs cooking could be heard faintly.

"How is the married life treating you?"

"Um... Well honestly mom, it's been rough. I felt like the original spark of our relationship had been extinguished the moment he put this ring on my finger, he had grown very cold and I swear there were days that went by where he didn't even look at me but last night we talked it out. He didn't even know I felt like that so I can't be mad at him"

"Sweetheart, I've been here for about 10 minutes and I can't help but continue to pick up these little details that are showing he isn't treating you the way you deserve. You are smarter than this Y/N I raised a strong fighting spirit, you survived a war with us and never let that darkness cloud the brightness that is your light but right now honey, you seem sad. I don't think your romantic spark is the only thing he's diminishing sweetheart, he's burning you out." Her hand reached out for mine and we interlocked fingers. She looked deeply into my eyes and I watched as the concern grew in hers.

"No mom it's not like that. He's just busy, you should know how hard he's working. I know my place is to sit and listen to him, he's so much wiser than I am. He's a great man and he loves me," I started to get a little defensive but tried to hold my temper. Her lips pursed and she gave my hand another squeeze. It was then the chefs came out and placed our plates in front of us. We sat in silence for a moment while we started to eat.

"You're stubborn I know. The more we tell you to run from him the further it pushes you away from us and closer to him. You should be celebrated, you do so much for this man and he gives you nothing. This... this just doesn't seem healthy."

"Mom. I'm fine. I'm breathing. My health is fine"

"But your soul isn't."

Her words spit venom into me and I froze in place and listened. "Truly, what kind of man doesn't let his spouse see their family more than once every few months. I had to beg him to be able to see you today. We all miss you at home. Hell, I miss you."

Shock ran through my body while I spoke. "He told me you never reached out for these past few months." A chuckle left her lips. "Does that man do anything but lie? I shouldn't be surprised... politicians will always say what you want to hear and what benefits them."

"Mom I- can we please talk about something else? I don't appreciate you disrespecting my husband. I shouldn't have ever said anything. This is why he doesn't want you around is you keep disrespecting him. I promise mom everything is okay. Just rocky sometimes and that's mostly my fault."

Her face scrunched up and she looked away to avoid eye contact. She frowned before taking another bite of the food.

"It just hurts to see you like this... I almost feel like I should've stopped it sooner-"

"Mom," I cut her off and slammed my fist on the table slightly. She quickly shut up again before her lips parted.

"How was the party last night?"

"Lovely, the capital parties are always a joy. Coryo even made a toast to me at the end of the night it was so heartwarming." I smiled, happy she changed the subject. I started to gush about how sweet Coryo was last night to try and defend himself from my mother. I don't understand why all of my loved ones just couldn't seem to like him.

"Did he talk to you?" She asked tilting her head up.

"Who?"

"Curtis."

My face went pale and my jaw dropped. Flashbacks to what I had seen that morning rushed into my mind and I sat there horrified. First was the shock then the confusion.

"He's a friend of your older brother. He's been living with us for awhile while his new house gets built. Your brother asked him personally to come to the party last night to try and talk to you. We weren't sure if we were going to be able to see you today so we were trying to find any way to talk to you and make sure you were okay."

"He um... yes I do believe I talked to him. He was very charming, sweet. He reminded me of someone I used to know but we only talked for a little last night..." I was in a daze while I spoke. I didn't want to talk about Coryo's jealous outburst or what I saw that morning.

"That's good to hear. Y/N how was he last night? He didn't come home last night though. Was he drunk when you left? We've been worried sick."

"He... no he seemed very sober though he did have the confidence of a drunk man." I tried to joke to distract from the adrenaline and fear that was pumping through my veins.

"Sweetheart I can tell when you're keeping things from me. Please, darling you can tell me anything, I'm your mother"

I avoid her eye contact like the plague and continued to eat my food, struggling to swallow.

"It's nothing really, I'm just a little tired today that's all. Mom, eat your food please, it's delicious. How's dad?"

Her suspicious mind was reflected in her suspicious eyes. She was not going to let this go so easily. I could see the same grim expression I had on my face from earlier start to spread on hers.

"The first thing I ever heard about your husband was that any person who got too close to him ended up dead, missing or disgraced. I truly hope you don't follow in those same steps."

"Mom, you guys told me that same line over and over again before we got married and it's not even true. Name one person who he's done that to"

She scoffed and spoke quietly.

"Lucy Gray."

I raised an eyebrow at her in confusion.

"Who?"

"I don't believe you watched The Hunger Games this year, you never liked the blood. There truly isn't any way to confirm this now but Coriolanus was in charge of mentoring a girl from District 12 named Lucy Gray. She was a songbird and I remember the first time I watched her sing on television, it was breathtaking. Rumors spread that your husband fell in love with her and planned to run off with her and then one day, she disappears. Not a single trace left but he returned. He returned to the capital and mysteriously got gifted a scholarship and an internship. That is a shady man."

"Respectfully mom I think you're telling folk tales right now. He told me I was his first love, the first one to make him feel so alive so that can't be true. I've never even heard of this girl. Wouldn't my classmates have said something?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't say anything to upset the man suspected of such crimes." Suddenly, a peacekeeper walked into the dining room and another followed in. Doors slammed around us and one spoke in a booming voice. "By orders of President Snow, we have been assigned to escort you out of here ma'am" They got on either side of my mom and grabbed her arms.

"There must be some sort of mistake here, it's barely 2, he said I could be here till 3! Let me down!"

I stood there frozen and helpless, I had no clue what to do. I yelled at them to wait but they pulled her out of her seat then started to head out. She started kicking and tried to fight back. "Let me say goodbye! I need a hug! I am the mother here, it's my right to see my child! He sent you guys here huh? Can't stand my kid hearing the truth? All this that's happening to me is his fault!"

"Mama! Goodbye! I love you!"

"He did it Y/N! You know he did it! Don't let it happen to you my love! Fight, there must be a way out! You're better than this. I love you!"

She shouted while they escorted her out. Her voice echoed around the room whispering the words 'He did it'. As much as I shook my head I couldn't stop thinking about it. Sickening silence bounced against the walls while my head ran back everything that had just happened. I couldn't help but let warm tears fall from my eyes while I sat back down in my chair. I'm so confused. I just needed my husband right now. A maid walked in and cleaned up the table and I sat in the chair and cried.

I laid down in bed, sitting up staring at the ceiling. The bed was as comfortable as sleeping on a cloud but I couldn't sleep, nothing could calm the storm in my head. The door handle turned and I saw Coryo glace into the room. His blue eyes made eye contact with mine as he stepped into the room slowly. He shut the door behind him and started to loosen his tie.

"Darling, you're still up?"

"I can't sleep..." I admitted and watched as his plump lips parted to expel a sigh. He started to change into his pajamas.

"Why dear?" He started to crawl into bed and pulled me into him with his strong arms.

"Can I ask you a question?" I felt his grip on me tighten before he nodded and hummed a soft 'yes' into the air. A sigh left my lungs and I pressed my hand against my temples. Where do I even start?

"Coryo... have you ever killed anyone before?"

"W- what?"

I tipped my head up and looked deep into his blue eyes to search for any form of sincerity. "Please be honest with me... please..."

"Darling what could have ever put these sorts of ideas in your pretty little head?"

"Coryo that's not important now please answer me. I just want your honesty here, if you're honest I will not judge you, I- I'll still love you."

The only emotion I could see on his face was panic. He removed his arm from my body and I started to panic in response. He had just started being nice to me again and I was worried I pushed him away. My big mouth just couldn't stay shut.

"Y/N, of course I haven't. Who do you perceive me as? Some kind of monster? The only person I have ever killed is my past self and he had to die so I could be the man I am today, a man ready to love you the way you deserve."

He was rambling and his lack of eye contact made me feel uneasy. I wanted to believe him, I truly did but with the way he was acting, I couldn't wholeheartedly believe him and that made me feel sick. I should not be this distrustful of my husband. I started to zone off, lost in deep thought when his hand met my jaw and he positioned my head up to look at him. "Y/N you trust me don't you? I've done everything for you, you should trust me darling." He planted a quick kiss on my forehead. "I- I believe you Coryo." He smiled down and then pressed a kiss to my lips. I melted against his touch and placed my hands to cup his face. When we pulled away I still couldn't shake the questions that flooded my head. Remembering what my mother said, I couldn't help myself from the words spilling out of my mouth.

"Coryo... one last question, Who is Lucy Gray?"

His lips parted and his eyes frantically started to search my face. "How did you hear about her?"

"Coryo?"

Anger started to flood his eyes and his jaw clenched. Regret filled every part of my body and I sat up on the bed, keeping my hands on his face. "I'm sorry Coryo, is that a touchy subject I-" He was quiet for a moment as if planning what he was going to say.

"She... she was a nobody girl from District 12. I had to mentor her for The Hunger Games that year for my school project. I came out on top, Snow always lands on top."

He spoke through gritted teeth while he looked into my eyes, scanning my face for a reaction. What he told me so far aligned exactly with what my mom told me. This was even more worrying. There had to be more. He was keeping something from me. He could sense my distrust and started to speak again, more carefully.

"Darling, do you want the full truth?"

"Yes Coryo..."

He let out a heavy sigh. "She was my first girlfriend. We had a short fling and then she cheated on me." My jaw dropped. "Oh Coryo I'm so sorry..." I reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, tangling my fingers in his blond locks of hair. "It's okay darling, you didn't know. You don't know a lot of things." His hands started to rub my back up and down while I held him close.

"I never loved her anyways, I could never love someone so low class and trashy."

In an odd way I felt almost comforted by that statement. It meant he wasn't lying to me, I was his first love, right? He placed his hands on my stomach and pushed me away from the hug. My arms fell back down to my sides and I stared at him with deep remorse in my eyes. He smiled again, "It's okay Darling, is there anything else I can answer for you to put your troubled mind at ease?" Truthfully, I had a lot more questions but I felt bad and I didn't want to push him away more, not when our relationship was so delicate. I shook my head 'no' and he hummed before laying down on the bed. I followed suit and he turned his back to me.

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight..."

"I love you"

And then I was met with silence.

The next day passed and it was business as usual but I still couldn't get my mother's voice out of my head. My ears rang with every corner I turned. I saw Coryo's panicked face every time I closed my eyes after I asked him if he had killed anyone. It made me sick to my stomach but I didn't believe him. I do believe my mom was wrong about Lucy Gray though, he was genuinely hurt when I asked about her. I couldn't even imagine anyone wanting to cheat on him. Especially a girl from District 12, the opportunity to be with a capital man, especially one as charming, smart, and talented as Coryo should be a blessing. My poor husband probably had to deal with so much then.

When he came home he didn't talk to me that day. He couldn't even look me in the eye really. I felt wildly embarrassed and guilty. Of course, he was pulling away again, I pushed him. I should've just kept my pretty mouth shut like he had asked. My mom must have been mistaken. They don't know him like I do. It was nice to know how much they cared about me though.

Coriolanus slept in his office that night. I assume he had business to attend to so I just sat and tried to sleep alone in bed.

The next morning I woke up late and decided to try and make it up to Coryo by trying to leave more "I love you" notes around the house. I painted a portrait of a lake on one of his mugs, adding rose and ivy details to the handle. Stumbling down the hallway in the afternoon I walked by Coryo's office. I knew I wasn't allowed in there but damn it I was so curious. There were two maids in there talking and I silently eavesdropped.

"Careful when dusting that... This man has a lot of secrets and what's in those vials one I do not want to know about."

The other laughed and they continued to clean up.

"Isn't it odd we decided to have such a liar for a president?"

'Liar?' I thought. Why does everyone seem to think he's a liar?

"Yeah but he's great for the economy and the future of Panem."

Silence filled the room and then they both started laughing again.

"That doesn't seem to make it any better, then again, let's not bite the hand that feeds us."

They started to finish cleaning his office and once they left I snuck in. My hands traced around the walls of his office, it was small and packed with things. On his desk lay a little book filled with names and numbers, a pack of matches, a single white rose, and the vials the maids were talking about. Curiously, I reached for it. It was probably liquor or something. I picked it up carefully and examined it. It was clear and sealed shut. Cautiously, I started to unscrew the top and placed a drop of it on my finger. The liquid burned through my skin and I yelped loudly in pain. I grabbed a napkin and wiped it off my hand. I screamed in pain and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Hot tears ran down my face as I removed the napkin and saw the damage that it left. My finger was red, hot, and my flesh was melted in the shape of a circle where the drop had been placed. Gasping desperately for breath, I tightly closed the lid of the vile and put it right back where I found it. I continued to cry from the searing pain, my finger throbbed and I whimpered desperately trying to keep quiet. I picked up my trash and made sure I left no trace of myself in there while I rushed to the kitchen, rinsing my finger under the water. Once the burning had gone away I slid down and laid my back against the kitchen cabinet.

"F- fuck fuck fuck- fucking poison. WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE HAVE POISON?"

I started to rock back and forth while I watched the skin around the burn turn purple. This must've been some sort of divine punishment to me for going into his office knowing I wasn't supposed to. One maid heard my wailing and hurried over to help me. She put an ointment on my finger before wrapping it up in a band-aid and above all, she didn't ask a question. I couldn't tell if that meant she was used to this kind of thing or if she was trained not to. I picked myself up off the floor and continued to go about my day and pretend that nothing happened.

Coryo didn't come to bed that night, I wasn't too sure if he had even come home honestly. I fell asleep alone again with nothing but my thoughts.

The next morning I was awakened by a rough hand shaking my shoulder. I yawned and opened my eyes to be met with Coryo's blue ones. They were deep and full of concern. He was sitting next to me on the bed still in his work clothes. I felt that pit of grief deep in my stomach again. Something was wrong, greatly wrong. "Coryo?" I asked, trying to remain calm.

"Y/N..."

"Coryo what's the matter?"

He sighed with deep remorse and said the worst news I had ever heard in my life. "Your parents... Y/N... your whole family they... um... their house burned down last night and the firefighters couldn't make it in time. When they arrived there, they searched the house but not a single survivor was found. They did find this though in your mothers room," He handed me a single stuffed doll. The doll was mine from when I was a child, it didn't have a single burn on it. I held it in my hands and sat staring at it in silence. They were gone. My whole family was gone. The tears threatened to spill but I felt so sick of crying lately. Why did my life feel like it was falling apart so fast? I just wanted a happy life as a newly wed and I have gotten nothing remotely close to that.

"Coryo... What's wrong with me? I'm like a bomb, anyone who cares about me either leaves me or dies... Am I cursed? I didn't even get to say goodbye. I didn't even get to hug them or- or- or see how big my little brother got or how smart my older brother is. I- I- I should've seen them more," I started weep, my tears starting to fall onto the doll below me, as if my tear were staining the innocence of the girl I used to be. Coriolanus grabbed me and held me close as I started to cry furiously into his chest. He planted a soft kiss on the top of my head and tried to whisper things to calm me down. His hands rubbed up and down my back.

"Darling, it's okay. You're going to be okay. You have me. I'll be here for you always. I make you happy, right? Your parents were always trying to keep you away from me... they didn't know you like I do. They don't know what you need darling but I do. We are going to get through this together, okay?'

I could barely process what he was saying through my tears. I just nodded into his chest and he continued to let me cry. I felt so safe in his arms in this moment. He was right, I do need him.

I couldn't get out of bed for days. The grief struck me overwhelmingly. I couldn't think straight. I just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for hours at a time. When the foggy mist of the shock that had clouded my rationale finally faded I was left with the remaining thoughts. What was even real in this life anymore? I remember feeling so sad when almost none of my friends showed up to my wedding. I felt so alone and isolated but at least I knew I still had my family and my husband to be there for me and now, all I had was Coriolanus. I love him, I need him, but he's the type that gives love and then takes it away.

Maybe my mom was right... Maybe I do deserve better. This relationship isn't healthy. Has it ever been? Even when I was first falling for him, I always viewed him as better than me, which he is but shouldn't we be equal? Maybe... I'm too reliant on the love he gives me. I hate that. I hate how big of a hold he has on me. The way my happiness is always at the tip of his fingers, it makes me feel so weak. His hold on me is degrading. The worst part is, he knows how strong his power over me is. He knows me. He's learned me inside and out and he knows how to keep me under his palm.

My mom was right. The night of the party, he started yelling at me then when I threatened to leave him he switched. How could- how could I be so stupid? He switched because he didn't want me to leave him. He needed me to be there for him, to be his shining sparkling eye candy, to complete his perfect picture of domestic living, to be his waiting servant. And then when we made love that night, it must've not meant anything to him. He knows I believe everything people do has a purpose, he knows I don't ever want to exchange sex like a handshake. He slept with me to prove to me that he 'loves me' but that can't be true. I love him, his heart will never have space for me in it. No man treats someone he loves the way he treats me. I've been aware of this but every time I've gotten the courage to leave him he pulled me back in.

He's smart, he's manipulative. He's been doing it to me for months now. How could I be so stupid? Love is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me. He found his wide-eyed dreamer and just needed to ruin me. Even recently, he used my parent's death to try and make me even more dependent on him and it worked. I can't live without him.

"He did it"

His desk, the poison, no sane and normal man keeps poison in his office. It's making me think. The boy... the one my parents sent. Did Coryo know he was going to be there? He must've, the party was invite-only, you don't just sneak into the capital parties. The last thing Curtis did before he left was pour himself another cup of the juice. When Coryo ushered me into the house, I heard a man coughing from the garden but I didn't look, I couldn't, I was pushed away. His body the next morning... He had blood on his mouth. I remember learning from the academy that some poisons often makes you cough up blood before you die. Coryo had the poison. Could it be... did Coryo murder him?

"He did it"

Before I looked away when I saw his body in the garden, a glint of red could be seen in my vision. Was that his red coat?

"He did it"

Oh my god, the matches. He told me my parents house burned down.

"He did it"

The book with the names and numbers... who's names were in that book? What were the numbers?

"He did it"

I got out of bed for the first time in ages and rushed down to his office. My bones ached from the lack of mobility. I reached his office and rushed in. His notebook was gone. I started opening his drawers frantically. Finally, I found it. I opened up the pages and that was the last bit of proof I needed. His journal had the names and addresses of the different capital citizens, one page dedicated to every member of my family.

"He did it"

The matches were missing fully. Not anywhere to be found.

"He did it"

The doll. My doll. The doll probably reminded him of me, just a pretty object he can play with whenever he wants something to hold. It didn't have a single burn mark on it at all, he must've gotten it before the fire. Either that means my family let him into the house before he burned it down or he's been keeping it for a while.

"He did it"

My mom did say she had been trying to reach out to me for ages but couldn't. He was stopping them. He wanted to keep me isolated. I really didn't know who I was marrying. I married a murderer.

"He did it"

I couldn't continue to live with him but I can't live without him. It made me feel sick how much love I still felt for him even knowing he had been trying to destroy me from the inside out. I can't let him take my light. My mom really was right. Everyone who gets close to him ends up dead, missing, or disgraced. It's my turn to pick which path I was going to be.

My heart raced as I ripped a page out of his notebook and wrote a note for him, leaving it on the desk. I reached over and grabbed that familiar vile of poison and unscrewed the top. The cold glass hit my lips and I drank the contents like a shot. My heart raced and I started coughing profusely, everything burned from the inside out. Blood started to flow out the corners of my mouth but for once, I wasn't crying. Mama, I'm coming.

"He did it"

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

Coriolanus Snows POV

I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry when I found Y/N dead on the floor of my office. Blood trickled down the side of their mouth and they were holding the tiny vial I had on my desk. Y/N knew not to go into my office and frankly, I was shocked to see that it happened in there. On my desk was a note that said: "Till death do us part". I screamed loudly and felt like my body wasn't my own as I feverishly picked up the body and walked to the nearest in-house medic. Tears poured down my face. How dare Y/N just decide to selfishly leave me like this? After everything I had done? All the trouble I went through? It was ridiculous. I remember thinking, "I had you."

When I first met Y/N I remember believing that they were the embodiment of everything good in the world and the embodiment of what I needed in a partner. Loyal, innocent, trusting, naive, controllable. Truly, there isn't any room in this world for such goodness. My darling needed to be tougher or the cold world would do nothing but ruin them. I tried to make them tougher but their unconditional love was annoying at times but I tolerated it. No matter what I did to push Y/N away, they insisted on loving me till the end, but why? And if they did love me so much why would they leave me like this?

The medic couldn't do anything. Y/N was long gone by the time I got there. So much wasted time and potential. I don't think I will marry again. Not for many years at least. Just when it is time for me to have heirs I will marry. Gives my future wife less time to escape. I have to marry someone cruel, someone whom I can never seem to care about, especially not love. Y/N's crippling kindness almost had me falling at the end and that was dangerous.

The funeral was lavish. My darling was beloved by the public. Many mourned for weeks. It was shocking. As much as I tried to not care, the energy of the house felt so different now. It was a wasteland of what once was. Dust collected in every nook and cranny. I stumbled into the house and stood still, letting the world spin around me for a moment when I tilted my head up and noticed something I hadn't seen before, paintings, hundreds of them. Y/N painted tons of things around the pillars and walls. They were beautiful. Ivy and roses, clouds and sunshine. I forgot how truly artistically talented Y/N was. My eyes followed how the ivy traveled around the pillars. Ivy was a great metaphor for Y/N, beautiful, and simple, but still a pest that will grow all over you if you aren't too careful.

"Sir, Welcome home. We have prepared dinner for you." the butler said, pulling me out of my trance.

"Thank you and can we get someone to repaint this room ASAP, I need some things removed.

The whole house ended up being repainted. I never noticed how many of those paintings were left. Even on the furniture, I couldn't escape any of my memories of Y/N anywhere. The notes were the absolute worst. Small pieces of paper everywhere with sweet nothings written on them. "Have a good day", "I love you", "Good morning to Panem's greatest leader" Nowhere was safe. Memories and images circled my brain constantly.

I sat at the table we used to eat at alone, drinking coffee from my mug while reading the newspaper. They still were on the front page. It's been a month since the incident. I sighed and folded the paper, placing it face down on the table. I reached for the mug when I saw it again. A painting of a lake with roses and ivy painted on the handle. The lake... the lake. The lake of District 12,

Lucy Gray

The roses,

My Mother

The Ivy...,

y/n

I shouted at the top of my lungs and threw the mug at the wall. When will I finally be free of the past pests that continue to haunt my life?

A/N: WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK??? It is almost 5 AM and I stayed up all night writing this, I hope you guys liked it. let me know plz. Now accepting requests for new stories, perhaps with new characters :)))

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factorialsotherfandoms · 7 months

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Forever's hands are shaking. They are shaking, and shaking, and everyone is still gone. He reaches for the bottle, and finds nothing there.

A hand takes his instead, strangely gentle for all their fighting these last few days.

"Cellbit?"

"The others are waiting for us; come home."

Forever is tired and cold and angry and he wants to snap, to scream, to fight. The clock is ticking, the timer is running-

Cellbit tugs him onwards, towards the Favela, towards the place that has not been home on so long.

Richarlyson is still gone, of course, and Forever's fingers flutter to his bag again; Cellbit holds both of his hands now. Felps has passed out on a sofa, covered in stone dust and flung over a curled up Pac, who is watching them both with dead eyes.

If only he would -

No, no, they took their son, their fifth, they keep both from them. The happier road is easier, but it will damn them all. Everyone wants hope and leadership from their fucking President, but he has only drug induced joy or world-ending terror left to him.

Forever barely hears Pac's "I'm sorry" as he untangle himself from Felps' sprawl, but he cannot do anything but notice when he is grabbed. Forever panics for a moment, time running faster than ever, before realising he has been pulled into a desperate hug.

Cellbit, too, is being clung to with Pac's other arm.

"Dont leave me," there are no tears, but Pac's voice remains haunted, broken. "Neither of you. I can't- just stay. Family again?"

"We always were," Cellbit says, and Forever has no idea how he is so confident about that, or even if he knows what family means. "And we're back now."

The click is tic tic ticking. Ticking down until it's too late, far too late to save Richarlyson, to find Mike. Soon there will be nothing left. He must-

"Forever?"

"There's too many people missing. I can't-" Cellbit squeezes his hand, and Forever takes a breath. "We don't have /time/."

"We don't have anything but time, that's the problem." Cellbit has somehow slipped the hug, and is dragging the pair towards the sofa. "We're going to drag Felps down with us, and we're going to sleep, and in the morning we're going to come up with a plan to get our family back."

"And blow up the Feds." Pac adds, a little seething anger creeping into his tone for just a moment.

"And blow up the federation," Cellbit agrees, something calmer, older, viscous in his tone just a moment. "We will show them why they shouldn't break our family."

Forever wants to do it now, would question why they can't but for the slow realisation of how pale his family is, skin drawn tight and their hands are shaking too. He cannot fix this, he cannot fix anything, he is a puppet on a string and the clock is ticking ticking tick-

Pac lets go, dropping into the pile of blankets and clothes which once made up the Favela Five's bed. They have been six, now they are only four.

Second later, Cellbit pushes Forever down into them too, before yanking Felps from the sofa and into the mess. Pac pulls the two around as he wants, Forever elbowing him when he tugs too hard, while Cellbit sets up security cameras, alert systems, and locks the door.

And then hesitates.

"I should-"

If Forever is being forced into this, then Cellbit must be too. Forever musters up a glare, demanding him into the sleepover pile.

"-... take off my shoes," Cellbir fiddles with his communicator a little first, before kicking off said shoes. There is a brief argument between Pac and Cellbit about the former's prosthetic and taking it off to sleep, which Forever only listens to enough to drown out the ever ticking clock.

They come to a decision, he does not really care which, and then Cellbit is clambering in too. The most obvious absence is Richarlyson, replaced by a pillow Cellbit shoves into Forever's arms, but Mike's is felt too; Pac has his back to the wall and hugs Forever from behind, not his back to Forever and holding onto Mike on the edge of their mess. Cellbit and Felps have always moved dependent on who comes to bed first or last; tonight, despite Felps being long asleep, they are a tangle of clawing limbs both of which cling to Forever's arms.

The clock doesn't leave, and the absences are still felt, but it is quieter. Or perhaps drowned out, by his family's breath on his neck and hands on his skin, and the tangle of limbs quickly tightening in the eternal struggle for the most comfortable position.

Forever isn't sure anyone but Felps will actually get any sleep tonight, not fractured and splintered as they are, but... perhaps in each others arms is the best chance they have.

Perhaps in each other is the only chance they have.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp forever #qsmp cellbit #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp felps #ficlet #hallucinations tw #this is probably as much as I can interact with what's going on with Forever atm but please take this #Favela four all get hugs #(Theres very very obvious holes)#They're all doing their best and they're all a mess #One way or another they got forever off the federation pills but he still wants the mental pain to stop #And they were good at that #This is more comfort than hurt so details are sparce

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walks-the-ages · 4 months

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ah, can't find the original post to respond to it, and tumblr was refusing to let me actually post with the usual bullshit of "sorry there was an error processing your post" . anyways.

If you see a post going around about Jewish restaurants being targeted for harassment by pro-palestine protestors "solely for being Jewish", stop what you are doing and actually look up the incident in question, because that is not what happened at Goldie's restaurant!

Full article below for accessiblity, and because we all know Tumblr only looks at headlines and doesn't click links to news articles.

Long post!

Bolding is my own for emphasis.

A protest against a top Israel-born chef was called antisemitic. Staff tell a different story

Wilfred ChanFri 8 Dec 2023 16.55 GMTFirst published on Fri 8 Dec 2023 12.00 GMT

The 21-second clip went viral almost as soon as it was posted early on Sunday evening. It showed hundreds of protesters, some with Palestinian flags, united in a rhyming chant: “Goldie, Goldie, you can’t hide, we charge you with genocide!”

They were protesting outside Goldie, a vegan falafel restaurant owned by Michael Solomonov, the Israel-born celebrity chef best known for Zahav, an Israeli-themed restaurant widely considered one of the United States’ finest eateries. It was one brief stop along a march traversing Philadelphia that lasted about three hours.

Many of the protesters hadn’t even returned home from the march when the condemnations began to pour in. The Pennsylvania governor, Josh Shapiro, a Democrat, posted on X: “Tonight in Philly, we saw a blatant act of antisemitism – not a peaceful protest. A restaurant was targeted and mobbed because its owner is Jewish and Israeli. This hate and bigotry is reminiscent of a dark time in history.”

Even the White House piled on: it was “antisemitic and completely unjustifiable to target restaurants that serve Israeli food over disagreements with Israeli policy”, said the deputy press secretary, Andrew Bates. Douglas Emhoff, husband of Vice-President Kamala Harris, wrote on X that he had spoken with Solomonov and “told him @POTUS, @VP, and the entire Biden-Harris Administration will continue to have his back”.

It was the apex of a saga that has resulted in at least three workers fired from Solomonov’s restaurants over, as they see it, their pro-Palestine activism coming into conflict with their bosses’ views and policies, and at least one other worker who has resigned in protest – thrusting the renowned Israeli eateries into the thick of bitter US disagreements over the Israel-Hamas war.

The street protest against Goldie has sparked heated debate. As the war on Gaza rages on, with over 17,000 people killed in Gaza since 7 October – 70% of them women and children, according to Gaza’s health ministry – are Israel-linked businesses in the US implicated? Was Solomonov, a chef who has credited Palestinian influences in his cooking, an appropriate target?

Interviews with protesters and current and former employees at Solomonov’s restaurants paint a more complex version of events than what the video clip may have suggested. They reject the notion that Goldie was singled out because of the owners’ ethnicity, arguing that their objections stem from management using the restaurants to fundraise for Israel after 7 October in spite of worker concerns. Activists also say their protest shines a necessary spotlight on the political commitments of one of the highest-profile restaurateurs in the United States.

Tensions at work

There were political tensions simmering at Solomonov’s restaurants before Sunday’s march. The Guardian spoke to three Goldie workers who say they were fired due to their pro-Palestine advocacy: two who wore Palestinian flag pins in violation of a newly announced dress code that forbade non-Goldie branded adornments, and another who tweeted in support of Sunday’s street protest.

Their discomfort at work began following a fundraiser in October, during which Solomonov and his business partner Steve Cook announced they would donate all of the restaurant group’s profits from one day, over $100,000, to United Hatzalah, an Israeli medical non-profit that has supplied the Israel Defense Forces with protective and medical gear during the current war against Hamas.

And in early November, Solomonov’s Zahav hosted a private fundraiser by a prominent political action committee dedicated to supporting political candidates “who reflect Jewish values”. Attendees at the event, which has not been previously reported, included the Michigan governor, Gretchen Whitmer; and dozens of other pro-Israel officials and lobbyists, according to a current Zahav employee, who spoke on condition of anonymity. The employee said that in recent weeks, Solomonov had also booked and paid for multiple, lavish private dinners at Zahav for IDF members preparing to deploy to fight for Israel.

“The amount of material support that we’ve lended to pro-Israel causes and Israeli military personnel has been really discomforting,” the Zahav worker told the Guardian.

In an email to workers on Wednesday, Solomonov and Cook apologized for not communicating about their political stances with staff more directly. The pair had sought to “avoid discussing politics at work … to make everyone as comfortable as possible in the restaurant,” the owners wrote. “But perhaps we created a void that had the opposite effect. For that, we are sorry.”

The fraught politics of food

The protest and its fallout have produced the biggest controversy ever faced by Solomonov, one of America’s most prominent Israeli cultural figures and someone who for years has cast himself as a culinary bridge between Israel, Palestine, and the United States.

Solomonov’s brother, a soldier in the Israel Defense Forces, was killed in 2003 by Hezbollah snipers; Solomonov wrote in his first cookbook, Zahav, that the tragedy made him briefly consider joining Israel’s army. Instead, he decided to channel his emotion into food, something he found allowed him to “expose people to a side of Israel that had nothing to do with politics”. That led him and Cook, an investment banker-turned-restaurateur, to found Zahav in 2008, followed by other prominent Israeli-themed eateries: Dizengoff, Goldie, K’Far, and Laser Wolf, under a restaurant group called CookNSolo. In 2017, Israel’s ministry of tourism named him a culinary ambassador.

The restaurants have never been completely free from controversy. Debates over the origins and ownership of Middle Eastern food have raged for years; many culinary experts have argued that Palestinian contributions to Mediterranean cuisine have been used by Israeli chefs without sufficient respect or acknowledgement. Yet while Solomonov and Cook have always branded their food as Israeli, their menus and cookbooks cite Palestinian influences on many dishes. For years, Solomonov also spoke of his friendship with the Palestinian writer and cookbook author Reem Kassis – though the two are no longer speaking, according to the New York Times.

But the conflicts aren’t just over cultural appropriation. They’re about “the way Israel as a state has weaponized food against the Palestinian people”, says the Palestinian American chef Reem Assil, who owns Reem’s, a Arab street food joint in San Francisco. “Even before these last 60 days, Israel has restricted what Gazans can access in terms of food and water. They target bakeries, they target farms, they target markets. They uproot our olive trees, they make it illegal for us to forge our own ingredients, like za’atar.” The UN warned last month that Israel’s military operations in Gaza had put residents there at “immediate” risk of starvation.

A controversial fundraiser

Since the 7 October attacks, Solomonov has publicly sought to caveat his support for Israel. “I personally believe in the right of Palestinians to have their own state, and the right for self-determination, and I don’t deny those things,” he said at an event last month in New Jersey, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer. “And I believe the Israeli government oftentimes does things that I would not do at all … and it can be quite damaging.”

But internally, Solomonov and Cook were using their restaurants to steer resources toward Israel.

On 10 October, Solomonov and Cook announced a fundraiser that would donate all the profits across CookNSolo restaurants on 12 October to United Hatzalah. “It is not associated with any military,” the restaurant group assured staff in a Slack message – something that simply wasn’t true, workers soon realized with alarm.

Goldie staff were caught off guard because they considered the restaurant a politically progressive institution. The vegan falafel restaurant proudly displayed an LGBTQ flag and Black Lives Matter flag on its wall. Many of the workers were young and identified as queer. There was a casual dress code: Noah Wood, a 25-year-old who uses they/them pronouns, said they did shifts at Goldie while wearing hats with slogans supporting indigenous rights.

The night before CookNSolo’s fundraiser, Goldie’s store manager at the time, 24-year-old Sophie Hamilton, says she discovered public videos by United Hatzalah about how the non-profit supplied protective gear to IDF soldiers. She rushed off an email to Goldie’s general manager, Emma Richards, saying she felt “deeply betrayed and misled”. “I feel like I’ve been left with no choice but to refuse to come to work tomorrow unless [CookNSolo] commits to also raising donations for a Palestinian humanitarian organization, of course with no connection to any military.”

But Hamilton’s suggestion was ignored, and Richards simply told her someone would cover her shift the next day.

When Hamilton returned to work, she decided to keep working but while wearing a small Palestinian flag pin. “There’s just a point where you can’t leave your humanity at the door,” she said. No customers complained, but two weeks later, management announced a new rule: staff were not to wear stickers, pins, or patches that were not Goldie-branded.

Wood, the other server, started wearing a Palestinian flag pin in open defiance of the new rule. Another worker, June, 24, wore a green shirt, black pants, and a red bandana – a reference to the colors of Palestinian flag.

On 15 November, the restaurant asked Hamilton to send Wood home for violating the dress code. Hamilton refused, and the next day they were both fired, Hamilton for “poor performance for failing to enforce the uniform policy”. Wood was not given any official reason, they say.

In the Wednesday email to staff, the owners wrote: “We recognize that people have different views on the war between Israel and Hamas, and we respect your rights to your own views. Many of our guests have passionate feelings about the current conflict and, knowing that not all of you feel the same way, our approach is to simply avoid discussing politics at work.”

They did not provide details on the firings beyond writing: “It is also important for you to hear directly from us that we have never terminated employees based on their support for Palestine.”

The owners added: “We think it’s important to say that our support of Israel is not unqualified. We have plenty of criticisms, particularly in the way that the government has stymied the prospects for Palestinian statehood in recent years.”

In a statement shared with the Guardian, United Hatzalah’s senior vice-president for international operations, Michael Brown, said that the nonprofit and the IDF “often train together, especially when conducting mass casualty training drills, or search and rescue training drills in order to hone our skills and help the IDF sharpen theirs, as well as to allow for an easier flow of collaborative life saving efforts should the need ever arise in the field, similar to what happened during October 7th.”

The restaurant group declined to respond to a detailed list of questions by the Guardian about the fired workers, but a spokeswoman said in a statement: “CookNSolo exists to create community through food. We are committed to fostering an open, safe, and supportive workplace for all of our employees who have varying backgrounds and political views. Like many hospitality companies, we have standard policies for our employees, which we consistently enforce.” Solomonov declined, through a representative, a direct request for an interview.

Justin Sadowsky, an attorney at the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a civil rights non-profit, says the firings of Goldie workers are the first time he’s heard of restaurant workers allegedly fired for supporting Palestine since 7 October. “We’ve seen it in hospitals, we’ve seen it at large corporations, we’ve seen it in law firms, but it’s sort of spilling into everywhere,” he said. The organization says it’s received a “staggering” 2,171 requests for help and reports of bias in the 57 days since the Israel-Hamas war began, equalling nearly half of the total complaints it handled in all of 2022.

Call for a boycott

Meanwhile, CookNSolo’s fundraiser for United Hatzalah had caught the attention of local activists in a group called the Philadelphia Free Palestine Coalition. The activists weren’t in touch with the restaurant workers, but drew the same conclusion: by funneling restaurant proceeds toward a group associated with the IDF, CookNSolo was complicit in Israel’s war crimes.

In mid-October, the activists called for a boycott. Natalie Abulhawa, a Palestinian American organizer at the Free Palestine Coalition, helped write an Instagram post for the boycott that named three of Solomonov’s restaurants – Goldie, Zahav, and Laser Wolf – as well as a number of other Middle Eastern restaurants in the city. “Restaurants and businesses claiming to sell ‘Israeli’ food, fruits, vegetables, and products are part of an ongoing colonial campaign of stealing, appropriating, and profiting off of Palestinian food and culture as a means of erasing Palestinian existence,” the call read.

The boycott made waves in the food world, and Solomonov addressed it at a closed-door event in November at a New Jersey Jewish Community Center. Speaking to the crowd of several hundred, he called the boycott misguided, adding that it wasn’t affecting his sales, according to the Inquirer. While acknowledging that “part of Israeli food is Palestinian influenced”, he argued that any suggestion that Israeli food was stolen from Palestinians was akin to saying Israelis “don’t have a right to be there”. Solomonov added that his restaurants credited Palestinian influences on their menus and claimed Zahav imported more Palestinian wines than any other Philadelphia eatery.

But privately, Solomonov and Cook were using their restaurants to platform Israel’s war effort. On 1 November, Zahav hosted a fundraiser by a major political action committee called Democratic Jewish Outreach Pennsylvania, whose guests included Whitmer and as many as 80 other pro-Israel officials and lobbyists, according to the unnamed Zahav employee. “It was an explicitly pro-Israel reception and speeches made were about that support,” the employee said.

The employee said that Whitmer, who delivered a keynote, opened with the Jewish expression of solidarity “Am Yisrael Chai”, or “the people of Israel live”, and called for providing material support to Israel, and that Solomonov, who was in the audience, was afterward “emphatically talking and thanking all of the attendees”.

In the following weeks, the employee became even more disturbed as Solomonov hosted and paid for at least two private dinners at Zahav for small groups of Israelis, including soldiers who were preparing to fly home to fight the Gaza war. Solomonov explained with “a level of reverence” that the restaurant would cover the bill because of the diners’ roles in the Israeli military, the employee says.

These events, in addition to the firings of Goldie staff, have made many of Zahav’s staff deeply uncomfortable. “Most of the employees here are not particularly interested in the support of Israel,” the employee said, but the workers fear retaliation if they speak out. CookNSolo declined to comment on the events at Zahav.

A clip goes viral

Pennsylvania’s Jewish and Muslim communities have been on edge since the Israel-Hamas war began. On Monday, a Jewish daycare in Philadelphia reported that vandals had spray-painted “Free Palestine” and other graffiti on its windows. On Tuesday, a pair of students sued the University of Pennsylvania, claiming it had become an “incubation lab for virulent anti-Jewish hatred”. Last week, a South Philadelphia mosque reported that it had been vandalized by anti-Muslim graffiti. And last month, a man was arrested for pointing a gun and yelling racial slurs against a group of pro-Palestine demonstrators at the state’s capitol.

The Goldie protest also followed a growing number of incidents that have entangled Middle Eastern food businesses. Palestinian restaurants such as New York City’s Ayat have reported being flooded with negative reviews since the war began; last month, an ex-Obama aide was charged with a hate crime for harassing a halal food street vendor.

But Goldie’s attempts to head off pro-Palestinian activism were futile.

On 3 December, the Free Palestine Coalition led hundreds of protesters in an evening of marches around Philadelphia to renew calls for a ceasefire. Starting from Rittenhouse Square in Philly’s Center City neighborhood, the march took a wrong turn, which brought it past Goldie, says Abulhawa. The encounter with the falafel restaurant wasn’t planned, she says, “but we ran with it”.

June, who is Jewish, was one of the employees working inside Goldie that night, and said the protest – which lasted just a few minutes – was completely peaceful: ��There was nothing violent, no hint of antisemitism.” The store was devoid of guests when the marchers arrived, though one customer came in partway through to pickup an online order and displayed no reaction. June even thought about going outside to join the protest, but thought better of it and instead quietly chanted along to the slogans from inside the store.

Someone placed two small stickers on Goldie’s door and window. One read, “Free Palestine,” and another contained a statistic about the number of children Israel had killed in Gaza (Abulhawa says that whoever placed the stickers were not asked to do so by protest organizers). One protester briefly posed in front of the door with a Palestine flag. Then the protest shuffled on.

A few minutes later, a user named Jordan Van Glish posted a 21-second clip of the protest to X, where it quickly went viral. Comments flooded in: “Once again proving that this is about hating Jews,” one user wrote. Stop Antisemitism, a prominent pro-Israel group, posted that it was a “failure” that no anti-riot police were dispatched and no protesters were arrested.

But Philadelphia’s police force told the Guardian that officers observing the march “did not see, hear, or record any threats to persons inside or outside Goldie”, and the department received “no 911 calls or complaints” during the event.

Some marchers have acknowledged how the clip, taken out of context, could have been misinterpreted. “I’d say in hindsight, maybe [the organizers] should have spent another minute explaining why we were stopping there,” says Joe Piette, a photographer who joined the protest. “It would have been better to explain some of the details of the owner of that restaurant. Our mistake was not explaining it on the spot.”

June felt that frustration when they got home that night and saw the clip gaining traction. “So I felt like I should give the context that was missing from that tweet,” they said. June published a post explaining that the restaurant group had raised money for Israel-linked causes and punished pro-Palestine employees. “If you don’t want to be directly funding genocide, you should probably stay away from Goldie” and other CookNSolo restaurants, they wrote.

On Monday, June got a phone call while on the bus to work: they were fired as well. The manager gave no explanation, but June didn’t need to ask why. “Honestly, I didn’t really feel that bad or surprised,” they said. “I had no pride in this job.”

High-profile officials have continued to argue that the protesters were motivated by antisemitism. Governor Shapiro doubled down on his tweet after visiting Goldie and meeting with Solomonov on Wednesday. “A mob protested a restaurant simply because it’s owned by a Jewish person,” the governor claimed. “That is the kind of antisemitic tropes that we saw in 1930s Germany, and it’s the kind of thing we should not tolerate.” In a statement to the Guardian, his office reiterated: “This was not a peaceful protest”.

Two days after the march, Tess Rauscher, a 25-year-old barista at the CookNSolo-owned Israeli cafe K’Far, resigned, citing the company’s fundraiser and firing of Goldie workers, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer. “It was these actions, not the identity of the owner, that changed the nature of my job,” she said.

This article was amended on 8 December 2023 to delete an incorrect reference to a manager taking down an LGBTQ+ flag. Also references to Governor Josh Shapiro attending an event at Zahav on 1 November were deleted. Governor Shapiro’s office have said he was not at the event.

[end article]

TL;DR:

Goldie's restaurant and 2 other restaurants owned by the same famous Israeli chef were part of a general boycott starting in October.

The famous israeli chef, Michael Solomonov, has been directly funding the Israeli military with fundraisers at his various owned resteraunts (including donating over $100,000 in a single day)

Michael Solomonov has also hosted multiple, lavish "going away parties" free of charge for people deploying to go fight in Gaza (you know, just, going on over to help commit genocide!)

Multiple staff were fired for being pro-palestine, including for wearing pins with the Palestinian flag, or wearing the colors of the palestinian flag to work.

June, A jewish staff member who was working when the protestors arrived outside the restaurant, did not feel threatened in any way, affirmed it was a completely peaceful protest, and actually considered stopping their work to go out and join the march, but ultimately decided to stay for the rest of their shift and quietly chant along with the protestors. They were fired a few days later, and not given any explanation.

#long post #bold text #large text #free palestine #palestine #israel #free gaza #michael solomonov #zionism #anti-zionism #signal boost

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