#bitch give those ten thousand to me instead

[affront2god-affectionate]

Now I'm tired and depressed, and that was only one hour since the morning started.

[marinerainbow]

//Okay in the 1940s AU where Kitty meets Judge Doom I can see a confrontation happening over the fate of ToonTown and it ends...badly.

Kitty: You can't do this!

Judge Doom: Of course I can! I have express permission from the governor. ToonTown is my legal property and if I want to build twenty freeways with it I shall do it.

Kitty: And what about the Toons...what will you do with them?

Judge Doom: Miss Hawkins I was under the impression that you were smart. The Toons will be in my jurisdiction and will be moved in a measure I see fit. You're familiar with the DIP...aren't you? One can't have roads populated by silly little creatures when one needs to get from LA to Sacremento after all.

Kitty: ...You unimaginable son of a bitch.

Judge Doom: Watch your tone, young lady. Or I will see to it you are dropped from that school effective immediately.

Kitty: You would deliberately murder THOUSANDS of innocents so you can have a, a playground for your cars?

Judge: Oh come now, this is not murder, this is progress. You didn't actually think cartoons would be a lasting fad, did you?

Kitty: And what about them? *gestures to the weasels working behind him* You gonna dip them too? Are they as disposable to you as everything else you touch is?

Judge Doom: ...If I didn't know any better I'd say you had sympathy for these miscreants.

Kitty: *scowls*

Toon Patrol: *turn in her direction with narrowed eyes, two with nasty grins*

Kitty: They're TEN TIMES cleverer and cunning than you. You couldn't kidnap, extort and murder all on your own! Without them you'd be nothing and if you ask me they deserve better than a glorified ghoul who only got his job because he paid for it!

Judge Doom: ...*strikes Kitty hard across the face with his cane*

Kitty: *gives out a cry of pain and is knocked to the ground*

Toon Patrol: *all immediately stop what they're doing...but they don't laugh. Instead smokes fall from their mouths in complete shock. That wasn't a cartoon hit...this felt...harder and more visceral*

Kitty: *covers her left eye*

Judge Doom: I would think on that Miss Hawkins. And I would deliver it straight to Mr Valiant unless he wants to recieve it from me himself. *walks briskly away*

Kitty: *slowly rises to her feet, still holding her left eye, which has begun to turn purple, when she looks up and sees the weasels still looking at her, agape* What are you looking at? You CHOSE to work for him! *wanders away before they can see her eyes water from the pain*

Toon Patrol: ...

ALRIGHT DOOM YOU BOUTTA CATCH THESE HANDS-

Seeing the weasels' reaction to this. This better be their turnaround. Kitty has been treating them kindly! They can't let Doom get away with this! Or at least they better pay her one of those quiet post-drama character arc visits where they have a heart to heart.

[weird-life-of-a-closet-fangirl]

Just finished watching the first ten episodes of Power Rangers Jungle Fury, here are my thoughts:

-Jarrod is initially a jerk. He's also extremely dedicated (been training for ten years) and extremely strong (beat his sparring partner very quickly) and extremely arrogant (bullies Casey and the other cub). I am very excited to see his redemption arc.

-Casey has literally been at the academy for a week. He's got enough raw power to make Jarrod flinch. We stan.

-Master Mao should have chosen one of the other finalists to be the third guardian after he kicked Jarrod out. I'm still not sure why he chose Casey but I like him so its fine.

-If Jarrod hadn't attacked Master Mao, Dai Shi's spirit wouldn't have escaped the box and possessed him. He brought that upon himself because he didn't know how to take the L.

-If this wasn't a kids show it would be a lot more gory and gruesome. Even with the morphing grid giving the rangers enhanced healing and strength and taking part of the damage they recieve in battle, the injuries they recieve while fighting would be pretty bad. Casey got slammed through multiple pillars and poisoned by scorpion venom. Theo fell off a skyscraper. They've all been caught in multiple explosions. Legally, they should be dead.

-Also, the amount of property damage being done by these evil monster attacks... I'm assuming they've got special insurance for that in this universe though, since the power rangers are a regular occurrence.

-Sometimes I remember that Theo and Lily trained with Jarrod for a very long time and get sad because they're fighting someone who used to be a friend. Like sure, Casey only knows the guy as a bully, so its probably not as rough on him, but for Lily and Theo, it can't have been easy to see their new friend go up against their old friend in battle.

-Also, I liked that they took an episode to talk about the rangers' insecurities and fears, with Casey still feeling like an outsider in their group, Lily being worried that her friends might die in the fight against Dai Shi, and Theo being worried that Casey's going to steal his best friend.

-I am THOROUGHLY invested in Camille and Dai Shi's relationship. It seems to me that they had some sort of relationship before his imprisonment (like we're talking super close, because she calls him by name instead of calling him my lord), and Camille is still hoping they could go back to how things were. Whatever relationship they had pre-canon, I doubt it was a good one, seeing how Camille is constantly trying to flatter him and appease him so she doesn't get destroyed.

-But- and this is my personal headcanon- I fully believe Dai Shi may have gone a little insane after being trapped in a box for ten thousand years. Camille also mentions hiding in a wall for ten thousand years but I feel like she might have gone out into the world every now and then. There's also the matter of Flit, who lives in her throat and refuses to shut up- he might have been good company during those ten thousand years that she was hiding. Anyway my point is that Camille managed to stay sane. Dai Shi probably didn't.

-The scene where Dai Shi suggests that Camille should risk being destroyed by the rangers in the process of becoming stronger because "if you truly want my admiration, my love, isn't that a chance you would take?" had me internally screaming, like oh my god this bitch??? And then when she kills Naja and takes his life talons and turns to Dai Shi for approval and he's just. Not there?? And then when she's talking to him later and he says "if you're waiting for a thank you, don't. Loyalty is something I expect." Anyway their relationship is looking a little one sided, and if it's not, Camille should totally dump him bc he sucks.

-Also something else I found interesting is that when Dai Shi brought Carnisoar back, Carnisoar was talking about how he's not at his full evil potential because there's still some good left in him. This, combined with the fact that Dai Shi refers to Jarrod's memories as his own, leads me to believe that Dai Shi is having a hard time differentiating himself from Jarrod since they're in the same body.

-Theo is just like me fr and I love him! His training with Master Swoop was just me him getting therapy for his anxiety.

-The little B plot in ep 9 with Casey teaching the kid about how the choices we make define our character and how they juxtaposed it with Carnisoar manipulating Jarrod's memories to erase every good and kind choice he ever made was a great storytelling move. I also liked the extra insight it gave us into Jarrod's character, because until then, I just thought he was a jerk, but he has a very strong moral code (which Carnisoar forces him to break, allowing Dai Shi to grow stronger as Jarrod's soul gets steeped in negativity)

-I'm very glad I decided to rewatch this because this is fun!

[mars-mystic]

In case ur looking for some good ol’ F1 crack fic, I present to you: this fuckin thing. Based on several text conversations I’ve had with a friend at increasingly late hours of the night

Presented without context or disclaimers, when really it should have about ten of each. Names are changed for internet reasons (my friend, not the drivers lmao)

Niki Lauda’s death was very sad. FOR ME. But also for the thousands of people who loved and respected him (Like ME. And George Russell).

His funeral was very sad too. As they lowered him into the ground, they played the Dutch National Anthem instead of the Austrian one, because that was all they had available after the 2023 season. Then they realized that RedBull was Austrian, so they played that one too. Somehow, Max Verstappen received a trophy.

Someone pointed out that it was weird that we were having a funeral for him in 2024 when he died in 2019. This was disregarded for plot purposes.

George Russell was openly weeping. So was I. So was everybody. Except that one bitch, Rachel, who was openly NOT weeping.

Instead, she’d wrapped herself around Carlos, saying, “Oh Carlos you’re so hot and Sexy and like Chris Hemsworth and you look nothing like that ugly rat.”

At this, George Russell gasped. He turned around and T-posed on her, so Rachel and Carlos ran away scared and crying into the distance to do who knows what. I didn’t ask.

That’s when George Russell spotted me, the sexy bitch with the Hat. I’d knitted this hat just for me, to support him in these trying times. But we locked eyes, and I knew he only wanted one thing from me. And it wasn’t what ur thinking. It was the Hat.

That’s when Carmen appeared mysteriously from the other side of the tombstone.

“Careful George,” she said, advising him to be careful. “She might think you’re a lesbian.”

“Why would she think that?” George asked, staring enviously at my hat.

“Because you look like a lesbian, you lesbian-lookin owl faced ass bitch,” Carmen replied calmly.

George appeared to be mildly offended at worst, and somewhat motivated at best.

That was how I spotted his weakness. Carmen was only with him because he looked like a lesbian. Because SHE was a lesbian. In an unhappy relationship with an owl faced bitch, no less. I had cracked the case. Now all that was left was for me to save this poor woman.

“George,” I said, sexily removing my knitted toque from my head (said no Canadian ever. Lance Stroll appeared and laughed at me). “Please hold my hat while I speak with the lady.”

George fell instantly in love with the hat, and also with me, because my Mom said so. But more in love with the hat. While those two had their moment, I spoke to Carmen.

“Let’s be lesbians together,” I said.

“I’m not a lesbian,” she said.

“Then why are you dating a lesbian-lookin owl faced ass bitch?” I asked calmly.

“Good point,” she said, and then we kissed, and George kissed the hat, or whatever it is that owls do.

Meanwhile, Oscar Piastri was having a perfectly normal day. He’d decided not to go to Niki’s funeral because he's never given a shit about anything in his life, and he’s not about to start now. Instead, he spent his day staring at a poster of Kimi while practicing his blank, emotionless stare and shit-giving-less attitude.

This made Lily very sad. She wanted Oscar to care about her being pescatarian but Lando said it was a red flag and since Oscar refused to form his own opinions (too much effort), he just used Lando’s opinions instead now. So Lily decided to break up with him and become a lesbian.

She made a post on the F1 WAG lesbian throuple platform, which had never been used but somehow already existed and contained every WAG to ever WAG. And also Max Fewtrell.

Carmen and I immediately responded and invited her to become a throuple with us. Lily and Alex also responded but we challenged them to a rap battle, which we won based on the argument that Alex wasn’t a lesbian. Although we almost lost them to the argument of Lily squared. And also because Alex punched Carmed in the face. Maybe he has some pent up jealousy against her or something. Idk, that’s not my problem.

But she’s my girlfriend now, so me and Lily had to take Carmen to the hospital to get her face fixed. Thankfully it was fixed just fine and she was all better the next day.

Also the next day, George Russell made a post on the Sad F1 Driver Who Just Got Broken Up With But Also Found This Cool Hat platform, which somehow ALSO already existed. And contained every driver to ever drive. And also Max Fewtrell.

Nobody cool responded to him, but Lance did offer to push him into a wall. Unclear if the offer was for on or off track, but either way, it was none of my business.

Oscar thought about responding, but since he hadn’t found any cool hats, he just made a post in the regular Sad F1 Driver Who Just Got Broken Up With group chat and called it a day. This group chat was actually quite active, though it was plagued with constant debates of if you could post there if you were the one who did the breaking up. The obvious answer was No, but somehow Carlos seemed to think the rules didn’t apply to him.

Brenna made a post in Sad Girls Abandoned In Cave By Sexy F1 Driver. This group chat ONLY contained Max Fewtrell, and he left her on read.

Meanwhile, Carmen and Lily had fallen in love, but I was just starting my journey of self discovery. By the end of the day, I had finished my journey of self discovery, and I’d decided that I was no longer in love with them.

I prepared for a very sad, tearful conversation with my girlfriends of less than 24 hours, but they said it was fine and they didn’t want me anyway. This was fine by me, so I made them both friendship bracelets and went on my way.

I decided to revisit Niki Lauda’s grave, even though I’d just been there for his funeral yesterday, because I wanted him to know that I was not like the other girls. And because he was my first love and I would never get over him.

I didn’t bring flowers, because that’s what the other girls would do. Instead I placed a Pirelli Tire on his grave and carved my name into it, so that I would be forever in-GRAINED in his heart. Get it? Hahahahahahahahhaahahha.

Oscar Piastri was watching me from a distance with an emotionless, unfeeling gaze. But deep inside his heart he felt something for the first time: disgust.

But then he realized that I’m not like the other girls, because none of them made him feel anything at all and he fell madly in love with me.

He walked over to me and placed his Pirelli Tire on top of mine. He turned to me and gave me a smaller Pirelli Tire, like the size of the pole position tire but smaller. He knelt down and slid it on my finger. It immediately slid off again because it was way too big bc it’s a fucking tire, but it’s the thought that counts.

“I don’t give a shit about Niki Lauda,” he said, still kneeling down, “but I give a shit about you, which is a first for me. Will you marry me?”

Obviously I said yes.

We held our wedding 17 minutes later in the parking lot where Carmen and I had rap-battled for Lily. George was there, crying. Lily (Muni He) was also there, looking smug. Carmen and other Lily appeared to be unsuccessful giving Alex advice on how to cope with the situation.

Charles Leclerc was also there bc you know that boy would just eat up a wedding. And also someone had told him Alex was there and he’d thought they meant his girlfriend. Names are hard.

At the altar, Oscar gave me an even smaller Pirelli Tire, which was even smaller than the pole position tire, but still larger than a Lego F1 tire. But also larger than any decently sized ring. I gave him a cute hat.

George Russell stood up to object to our wedding but when he saw the cute hat I was giving Oscar he died instantly. We decided to leave him there until the end of the ceremony because this wasn’t about him. Dramatic bitch.

Oscar and I lived happily ever after.

Rachel died alone in a cave.

THE END.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. ok but I love Rachel spent the latter half of 2021 being like ooooh Kronos is coming back!! this is a big deal!! only to timeskip ten years and NOTHING happened. like wow even Kronos isn't a big deal when it comes to how totally not pathetic Persephone is as a 30+ year old doing no work and only being obsessed with a guy she knew for a month. literal masterclass in awful writing. It's almost impressive how bad it is.

2. Deadass I don't even get why RS is like oh yeh nymphs and other creatures should be second class citizens but they're also all "trash" and thus its good and even encouraged to abuse and mistreat them. like yeah that's what was missing, racism where the marginalized group are evil and "deserve" to be abused and mistreated by those with all the power over them. THAT's what mythology was so sorely missing.  jfc. I know a lot of the WT staff are white people and so is Rachel but wtf???

3. It's quite funny how a woman old enough to be my mother cannot draw or write worth shit and there are literal teenagers on this website who are a thousand times the artist and writer she could ever hope to be.

4. This isn’t me trying to be mean but like, why is everything from the book covers to the official merch so ,.. cheap looking? Like these are supposed professionals, not Rachel, doing it, yet they’re still so poorly designed and crafted. It doesn’t help the images Rachel gives time to work with are all in the rushed, ugly style now either 😪

5. I just find it funny that every time an LO fan or even WT promotes it its like ... they ONLY use art from the first 10-ish episodes at best. Like yall, that was over four years ago, why aren't you using current art to be more accurate? Like it's kinda telling on themselves they know the quality declined rapidly after the first few months but are like "just ignore that! look at this three good panels from 2018!"

6. I HATE those panels where RS tries to be anatomically correct to IRL humans and its like omg they look even worse (and are still wildly wrong anyway?? She cannot draw heads to save her life for real). Like lady just work within your stylization, there's a reason people picked up your work off what it used to be versus what it is now.

7. this isnt necessarily LO based but I do find it crazy how people like RS and her fans viewed the original hymn like ugh Demeter is such a bitch why wouldnt she be happy Hades married her daughter like .... you guys are aware ancient brides tended to be married at 14, right? maybe that's why Demeter was pissed and creeped out by him. They're so blinded by their fantasy of this "perfect Hades" that never existed over the truth of a mother defending her literal CHILD.

8. Zeus is objectively the only hot man on cast because he actually has a personality, fashion sense, and pretty hair meanwhile Hades just looks like a dusty old man with zero drip and a million and one red flags 🫣

9. "This style of story telling" what style? just lying and making everything up to where it matches nothing in mythology? my god, she's so concerned over looking like a clever writer who has everything planned out and knows more than anyone else (including actual greeks??? ma'am) over actually telling a decent story. ive never seen someone so self conscious about being perceived as a "real writer" before.

10. Why even use mythology when you won't keep any of the stories true to how they were, change all the relationships, and just make up whatever else instead? At that point just go "this was inspired by the greek myths" and use your own OCs, not claiming you're telling an accurate story with a ton of research put into it. Rachel really just wants to have her cake and eat it too, huh?

[saltypiss]

Russia's hypernormalization hit america so fucking hard our presidents are gonna become kings.

I wonder if R's really think it a good idea to make people lose confidence in the government and all systems. Because they're doing a fantastic job ensuring nobody can really give a shit anymore.

Much like how Dems have Absolutely No Plan after Biden's second stolen term (only stolen in that he lied about being an interim) (because the elections are nothing if not completely corrupt unless blue wins) they also have no plan when SCOTUS permanently sends the country down the shitter.

It's just a reality TV show until we decide to do something. Sucks but, dems of all variety, ain't gonna do shit. Just gonna sit on their hands and bitch. Sucks to suck but, Dems aren't gonna be the solution. They're more of a shitty doorstop.

Dems once had The Hype. It's gone and dead now, now we argue if a Genocide is moral so long as a Blue person is aiding or committing it. We were so excited about raised minimum wages, making the rich pay back trump's tax cuts, fix schools, universal healthcare, better work protections...

But sure ya'll. Let's energize the voter by saying you can't criticize Dear Leader because he did nothing to earn anyone's respect or trust and instead killed the hype and made us scared to demand better, but he's not Dump, so he's clearly infallible and anything less than sheer devotion is republican.

Nah man. What's republican is Dear Leadering Biden like R's did Dump. Like...ya'll? Just google this dude's history and he stops being anything but another corporate crony. Dude's sub-human in so many points of history.

All I'm saying is: Dems demanded better from Dump but refuse from Biden. R's don't even demand better from anyone. Why the shit are Dems being republican on progress? How is he supposed to know shit if half of his base supports genocide and the other just wanted 4 day work weeks? How is he supposed to know shit other than making that easy oil money of tens of thousands of known casualties, half being children? That one's obvious, he knows he's fucking up but no one is holding him accountable, so he doesn't care, and next term he's given the keys to all our homes to burn and rob.

For people to defend a genocide with "of course he was going to be pro-israel" Ever consider the problem is he's pro-genocide because you idiots enable him? This is exactly what ya'll are demanding?

Oh and the Larpers claiming they'll stop supporting him if he stops the genocide? Understand that sounds like a Great Thing. To kick you out of the group of dems? Yes. When ya have a nazi at the table of 10, they're all nazis. Congrats Dems. You're now Nazis. Undeniably. Your body count is now higher than Dump's. At least I didn't expect any better from him, ya'll had me believing I could with Biden, until ya let him decay further and further until he became a whipped bitch for corporations. Just saying, at least Dump simply GOT millions and millions killed by covid for political gain, Biden's just aiding in a genocide because he has absolutely no morality or ethics you can trust, because, again, Pro-Genocide. But also because he's just gotta go with the popular opinion! Not...Not the actual one, but the one's that will net him votes from those who laclkcritical thinking and flip flop their empathy depending on the victim.

Just sayin'. If Biden was mostly aiding in the tens of thousands of deaths of children and any minority inside america, Dems would support it. Because it's Blue no Matter Who! Nah, realistically they'd be mad because now it matters to them...somehow. Yeah the people you'll never meet? They can Die. But your fruity friends? Well, clearly they're The Most in danger right now as we speak (Ignore Palestine's 70 years of oppression by Israel) (oh yeah and that whole Active genocide thing) (seriously stop focusing on the child crying over his father's blown up corpse CARE ABOUT THE GAYS WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN SAFER)

and remember you HAVE to vote for Biden because even though it costs the lives of tens of thousands, when it Really Fucking Shouldn't?????????????? It's an important... PFFFFT...haha..."""sacrifice""" (people think other country's I don't know about matter?) to protect the gays! They're what this election is 100% about! Minorities. (In america) (Must be virtue signallable) (preferably black, mexican, gay or trans) (but not some other label) (human lives are cheap) (blue no matter who!)

AREN'R YOU ENERGIZED AS SHIT TO VOTE FOR GENOCIDE!?!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN EVERY ARGUMENT I MADE IN SUPPORT OF GENOCIDE MADE YOU NOT WANT TO VOTE FOR BIDEN? WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT PALESTINIANS!?!? THEY'RE LESS HUMAN THAN AMERICAN GAYS!!!!

Really consider the fact R's and the rich approve of the genocide, that Biden is working with both, because ya'll MFs can't be consistent morally, ethically, or logically. Of course he's aiding in a genocide, the only people being fucking understandable are R's and the rich, because they're consistent, Murder is Good, I just wish Dems weren't Actually Worse about that than R's. R's can be seen through with a hint of critical thinking, Dem's will actively Lie about their morals and beliefs the second it becomes inconvenient. Ya can't trust a grift ever, and my friends, Biden is a grift.

Weak. Dems are Weak. I can see why R's have more confidence in their rapist leaders, they're surprisingly consistent when you ignore the public relation noise and focus on the Larp.

A republican 10 years ago to this day still thinks a lynching is appropriate when seeing a Brown. Dems will claim otherwise unless it hurts Dear Leader's chances at re-election. Because in their mind, anything short of Percieving Perfection is tantamount to treason.

Biden could come out and repeat what he's said with Israel and Palestine about R's and minorities and I guarantee you this, most Dems will flip flop because now? Dems got their own Larp, and it's that Biden is the best president of allllll time! He...he has...he has to do something first. Something historic? Like. Raise minimum wage? Shit man.

No. You're supposed to demand better. Not demand worse. Not demand genocide. Not demand our Leader be Cruel and a Grifter. You aren't even necessarily expected to not vote for him, let alone against him. Just Demand Accountability. Demand Better. Demand Leadership. Instead? He hides behind his God Awful Sub-Human cohorts to speak for him.

We heard you loud and clear Biden. Anti-Genocide is Evil in your eyes, Genocide is Moral. I heard you, and ya lost my vote completely for it. The chance of apology has passed, the chance of regaining votes lost. He told everyone his ethics are that Genocide is Moral.

What would've make him votable, kept him votable, is the fact he'd listen, and would do what is Ethical and Moral. The fact we Can Demand Change. The fact we can Approach And Consider. Y'know, like what you're supposed to do with your leaders. Not just accept them as Gods of perfection.

But sure. Telling disenfranchised voters that their opinions don't matter and People and Children Just Have To Die For Biden, that demanding leadership or any accountability is actually rather Republican! Yes Dems are saying exactly this right now. Because otherwise? Maybe don't tell people they just have to accept the guy who's done nothing but kill the hype, and Kill Children.

Maybe don't tell disenfranchised voters that that whole silly genocide thing isn't as compellig to your morals as the possibility...it's..it's not a possibility. I'm not sorry, Dump ain't ever getting in office again. What we're doing is working with the definite second term Biden right now. And the fact we're letting him commit a Genocide simply due to fear mongering? That's not the Dems I remember.

Okay so, After Biden gets the second term, what are we gonna do about that "silly ol genocide thing?" Because I sure hope you idiots aren't seriously considering he can get a third term? Remember how tens of thousands of children died thanks to this guy? Because you refused to demand he simply...not. do that? Maybe Biden could simply, not? Come with the Thousands of Dead Children baggage? Maybe we can ask him to y'know, drop the dangling corpses of, again, children, and instead, be reasonable?

y'know, we used to say Dump was going to commit a genocide. The fact we got exactly that? I really, really, don't have the energy to vote. I don't have that blue no matter who in me anymore. Because Dems are as bad as R's with their Dear Leader.

just a dump in blue, of course he's smarter, but fact is, he's still a politician. Not your friend. Not your hero. Not shit. He's never been shit and will be passed on in history books. Because again, he's actively done nothing his entire career, except hurting minorities. Or sniffing kids. Yeah sorry, ya can't ignore that one anymore. Demand leaders that aren't genocidal pedophiles, dems, do better than R's.

Just saying. Maybe we shouldn't demand diet dump as our leadership? Maybe instead of just letting these people be completely unchained is a bad idea? Maybe just because R's are blatantly corrupt, doesn't mean Dems aren't at least halfway as much? Because the whole of the government is corrupt and broken.

Idunno man, seems REAL fucking lucky that in a 2 party system, that somehow, miraculously, only One Party is actually moral and good and perfect. Seems more likely that one party fell apart and the other party simply hasn't, but they're both shit. They both are pro-genocide. And there is no fixing that other than to minimize a genocider's voice. That requires more parties to make such a decision absolutely a political suicide thing, instead of simply one thing to consider.

Really

Understand your shortsightedness will lead to another R president. No on after Biden. And dems just exposed how little they believe in the words they've said. I don't trust dems when they say "genocide good" and "save the gays!" on the same profile. Hopefully. Dema will understand that kinda shit is why people left R's. That this is an open wound that will only fester.

Dems enabled their genocidal immorality. It's only a matter of time before they're as bad as R's. Sorry that I make it a principle to not support Genocide. I'm sorry for you thinking that's a necessary "sacrifice" when you could've simply demanded better instead of compromising your morals for a dude who has never done shit for you.

[theshakespeareproject]

Thoughts on King Henry the Sixth Part II Act III

Going back to high school for a moment. I remember my junior year english teacher breaking down the five act structure, with Act I and Act II being rising action, the climax in Act III, and then Act IV and V being the fallout from the climax. It seems a bit confusing, because Act V also has the climax, but it stuck with me. So I was looking for the climax of this story to happen here… And it kind of did.

Margaret, Queen, comes into the scene swinging. She hates, hates, hates, that Duke of Gloster. Absolutely despises him. So much that she goes fully anachronistic with the following line: “I will subscribe and say I wrong’d the Duke”. She will never subscribe, nor click the bell for those annoying ass notifications. No siree. Margaret hates this man and thinks he’s a traitor. Suffolk and York back her up on that claim. And yet for some reason the King still doesn’t suspect that they might be colluding. 

One thing I noticed during this scene, these people love an animal metaphor. Raven’s are the most frequent target, for example, “For he’s disposed as the hateful raven:”, said by Margaret. But these guys start pulling them out left and right. Foxes, serpents, scorpions, lizards, owls, and many others start to appear during this Act. I don’t know if it was like this before, but it finally jumped out at me here.

Everyone in this scene is a shady little bitches. I had the shade rattle playing after almost every line, you know, the one from Drag Race? The Cardinal, Suffolk, Margaret, York, Somerset, even the King get’s in on it at one point - everyone was pulling out all the stops because these people hate eachother so damn much. The best one, by far, was the Duke of York’s little dig at the Duke of Somerset: “Show me one scar character’d on thy skin: Men’s flesh preserved so whole do seldom win.” Just had to throw a little dig at Somerset’s complete failure in France.

Which also happens in this scene. Everything Talbot did in the last play, yeah, Somerset fucked it up.

At one point the Duke of Gloster walks in, as everyone else just finished calling him a traitor. Absolutely iconic reality tv moment. I could picture the sudden zoom to close up as everyone sips their drink while giving sideye. Except instead they immediately declare him a traitor, much to the King’s disappointment.

There are two other quotes I wrote down. I just like them, I didn’t have a further explanation for either. “Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud,” said by the Duke of York. And “But I can give the loser leave to chide.” said by Queen Margaret. Great quotes. 

After all this shade is throw. A new character arrives to push the plot even further along. We just got done with France, so now we have to go to Ireland. This is when the Duke of York steps up and takes centerstage as a villain. He has a whole monologue and it kind of slays. Here’s just one part: “I will stir up in England some black storm, Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell; And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage”. Iconique.

Scene II opens with two to three randoms coming in and killing the Duke of Gloster. After all this, after a whole scene of scheming, it’s randoms who get the job done. They are, of course, randoms hired by the Duke of Suffolk. Who proceeds to use every acting skill when the King arrives and he has to pretend he totally didn’t know Gloster was dead. And Margaret has to pretend to be suprised as well.

She plays it up quite a bit though. Henry faints, sorry, swoons, at one point, because the bitch is distraught. In response Margaret get’s so offended that Henry would dare be sad that his friend is dead that she decides to channel the gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss mantra. “Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne’er thy joy: Erect his statue, and worship it, And make my image but an alehouse sign.” Feels just a bit like emotional manipulation Margaret, might want to reconsider that one.

This isn’t helped by her next long monologue where she threatens to pull a Rose and toss a necklace that may or may not symbolize her heart into the unforgiving ocean. I honestly got lost a little at this part.

I am saved though, by the arrival of the Duke of Warwick. The only time something from Warwick has ever helped me. Warwick immediately knows whats up. He calls out Suffolk for being behind the whole thing the moment he steps into the room. Margaret immediately comes to the Duke of Suffolk’s defense. 

At this point, I should reveal something, the Cardinal has been in on this the whole time. He plotted with Margaret and Suffolk. He defends Suffolk earlier. He is identified by Warwick as being apart of the crime. But I didn’t mention him. You know why? No one actually cares. He literally walks off in the middle of this scene, doesn’t have to defend himself, because everyone forgets about him. He is the Silence from Doctor Who. If you’re not looking at him he is irrelevant.

The Duke of Warwick and Salisbury (who is also irrelevant) eventually rally the commoners against Suffolk. It’s like a whole thing. They get in a fight. The King sides with Warwick and has Suffolk being put to death in three days to pacify the commoners. It just goes by so quickly for what could have been a climatic moment.

And then… twist. Suffolk and Margaret are like all over eachother. It’s like Littlefinger and Sansa but like actually reciprocated, so actually nothing like Littlefinger and Sansa. Margaret tries to empower Suffolk with the line: “Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies?” and the answer seems to be no. But they go back and forth for a bit before finally winding down with Suffolk saying “Live thou to joy thy life;” which feels like a confession of love. 

At the closing of Scene II, we find out that the Cardinal is dying. In Scene III, the Cardinal dies. That’s it. It’s mercifully short. Also, he may or may not be haunted by the ghost of Gloster. Karma do be a bitch like that. Hey didn’t that also happen in Mac-

[wasabipoptart]

"Hallelujah": the pumpkin-spice latte of popular music

Yesterday somebody in one of the OFMD chats mentioned they would like to hear "Hallelujah" on the soundtrack for S02 and I threw up in my mouth a little.

I hate "Hallelujah". I mean, I *LOATHE* it, with the white hot heat of one thousand suns. Why? I have my reasons:

I love Leonard Cohen more than life itself. Seriously. Look at my pfp, for fuck's sake. My Uncle Len wrote dozens of songs, and this one doesn't even compare to the rest of his oeuvre. Please, I beg of you, give one of those, ANY ONE OF THOSE, a listen.

It's ground into the dust. I don't know who's to blame for this, Jeff Buckley or Shrek, but it's been wrung dry of every drop of juice and there's nothing left but a sticky wrapper.

I can't help but feel a certain amount of pity tinged with contempt for people who think this is a great song, from the Library of Congress on down. Even Tom Morello, an artist and intellectual I otherwise hold in the highest esteem, was knocked down a peg or two for me when he played it on his radio show a little while ago. I thought he was more discerning than that.

Do you know, you who insist on dragging it out at weddings, funerals, Christmases, first communions, britot, Star Searches, Best Buy grand openings, etc...do you KNOW what this song is about? Have you listened to the lyrics? Because it's about fucking. The end.

Does it remind me of an ex? It might. Do I want to Eternal Sunshine everything to do with that ex, and that time of my life from my mind? Would that I could. Am I forced to think about all that every time I hear this goddam song? Maybe. But it's nothing personal, I swear!

An analogy: I am fond of pumpkin-spice lattes and don't care if that makes me a basic bitch. Likewise, if this song is your jam, you do you, boo; I'm just some rando on the internet so please don't care what I think. But I feel like it's my moral obligation to attempt to serve you another flavor, just to save you from your own pedestrian taste, because we're talking LC here and he is a GOD and you do him a disservice to think that's the best he's got.

The next time you are craving that bitter velvet honey agony that only Uncle Len can deliver, here are ten other songs I implore you to consider instead:

The Stranger Song

If It be Your Will

Famous Blue Raincoat

Coming Back to You

Light as The Breeze

A Thousand Kisses Deep

Dance Me to the End of Love

Hey That's No Way to Say Goodbye

Tonight Will Be Fine

I'm Your Man

(Look at that punim!)

[mat2468xk]

MrBeast:

Welcome to your final test, I'm MrBeast.

We can scrap the 'S' cuz I've never missed a beat!

You had to cut from honey under threat of a gun blast;

When I had a cut from Honey, that's another check that I'm gonna cash!

You're coming last, Number 1 is Jimmy; only dub you have is horribly written.

You're accomplished 'cuz you fought the opposition and became the best,

But the consequences that you've got to live with

Is you paved their deaths all to pay your debt, I applaud you Gi-Hun!

In the diss game, you won't get rich.

I'm like your momma: I'm dead sick!

Then check the gaming channel, millions of children watch it.

How'd you win all that Won, kid, but not custody of one kid?

Did ya think you'd get her back with that lighter you bought her?

You're playing tug-o-war with your ex, but the rope is your daughter (Ooh!)

So stupid, Sang-woo showed you the light; you didn't go to SNU, that's right.

If the task was last to get backstabbed by a pal, you wouldn't make it through the night!

When I feast I don't need a suit and tie, wrapping with gold like the food I try!

Utter a word then you will die, save those subs for PewDiePie! Seong Gi-hun:

So this is the next test they'll make us fight in for survival?

But instead of a kiddie game, we'll be playing this manchild? (Hmm?)

Your career's fragile like glass, I will smash it if you push me.

Made your fortune from subscribers, now give them their fucking cookies!

You've done all this good, you fed lives in need right 'till they get by each time,

Gave islands, sweet rides, let high trees thrive, set headlines being nice when you spread vibes.

Teens hype it and then buy MrBeast line, so you make ten times what you leave guys,

Only ever "moving" when you're in set sight of a keen child, like an anti-red light green light!

Don't talk about loyalty, you don't get any!

You're like "I Spent At Least Ten Thousand Dollars Renting People Out To Pretend To Be Friends With Me"!

I wondered why VIPs had to hide their face behind plastic,

Now that I see this bastard, I get what the point of the mask is! MrBeast:

I just replaced all of Gi-Hun's surviving friends with Legos!

Uhm, Jimmy… there aren't any Legos.

(Vine boom sound effect) (Hahahahahahaha!)

For a 'critique on greed', it seems ironic,

Your show sold out like it's stock from shopmrbeast.com, bitch! Seong Gi-hun:

(Yuh!) You spent 24 hours in a bunker, another 24 inside of a fake prison,

And over 50 hours in a coffin; could you do us all a big solid and stay in it?

Spending a minute with the Jeff Bezos for daycare kiddies is a challenge that I couldn't be paid to be in.

You can't make good lines, I won't stay within them; like Jake the Viking, I'm straight up leaving! MrBeast:

Let's hope that you didn't bet all of your money on winning this fight now,

Cuz a lot like your job, if that happened, you're likely to die in my fire and strike out.

Join Team Seas and clean that garbage past you deem so awful!

You lost everything to a pensioner who lost his fucking marbles! Front Man:

I make the calls in this torture-ridden place,

You only got balls in an Orbeez giveaway.

It's a real manhunt, you don't got the courage to beat me,

Go hide in your nerdy Dream streams.

We've got more beef than your burger meat, Beast.

Plotting more seeds in your girl than Team Trees!

Pictured a world where equality rules,

That's not just a pic you can fly to the moon.

Got no firepower against my roster,

Don't you "identify" as an attack helicopter?

You said hi to your brother with a brand new channel,

I said bye to my brother with a mag of ammo!

So go cry to your momma in an ad to pack dough!

You'd ditch your morals to put your hand on Lambos!

Can't handle the truth: if you run out of money, you run out of your personality too.

Out of 100% of your viewers, nobody watches your channel for you!

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[justcourttee]

Hi I love your fics and maribat. Tall Girl (Netflix) reminds me a lot about Timari. So maybe to something with that. (With Mari thinking that Tim's confessions were all jokes and wanting Ardien who was roped into dating lila and it's the class making fun of mari.)

Oh goodness, this took ages and I both apologize and hope it's what you were looking for! 24 pages and over ten thousand words! For reference, that's 20% of my first multi-part Maribat piece!

Average

In a world where everyone is looking for extraordinary, how do you survive when you’re just average?

I’ve spent my whole life mulling over the thought, trying to find a way to be extraordinary, trying to find a way to be noticed, and constantly failing.

It wasn’t like it was from a lack of effort, I really did give my all to everything I tried, it was just, there was always someone better.

Specifically, one insufferable bitch named Lila Rossi.

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘Marinette, it’s not fair to call Lila a bitch just because she was better than you,’ and if it were a normal rivalry, I could agree with you. But you simply don’t know Lila Rossi.

Lila has been a thorn in my side since we met on the soccer field at just ten years old. I accidentally bumped into her sending us both tumbling to the ground and she took that personally. Slapping my hand away, she bawled the worst fake tears I had seen in my ten short years until the coach benched me. Can you imagine the embarrassment of being benched in elementary school soccer?

Ever since that day, anytime we were placed together it always ended in disaster, especially for me.

Now, as much as I would love to on about how awful the sausage-haired brat is, I’m sure that’s not what you came here for. So let me break it down for you. If you are looking for your typical girl meets boy, they fall in love and live happily after, you should scroll now. It’s only fair to warn you. After all, I don’t want you to be disappointed when we reach the ending. I’ll give you a second.

Still here?

Well, hold on tight. Because the story I am about to tell you isn’t much to just anyone, but it’s everything to me and my average life.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It all started on a Tuesday in August when he arrived.

Adrien Agreste.

“Class, I want you to welcome our exchange student, Adrien Agreste! He’s here all the way from Paris, France, and will be finishing the year with us. Adrien, why don’t you tell the class something about yourself?”

I couldn’t even focus on the words that escaped from his precious lips. His voice was so silky, like softened butter on one of Papa’s fresh muffins. Everything about him screamed perfect from his thoughtfully placed hair to his shining green eyes. He was simply-

“-Earth to Mari! You could at least try to hide your drool.”

My eyes snapped shut as I took a deep breath.

“Tim, I am not drooling. And you know I hate it when you whisper in my ear! It tickles!”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat backward, his eyes narrowing to where Adrien stood in the front of the room, a pristine white smile earning giggles from every female in the class.

“I don’t like him. Something seems off about him. He’s too-too-”

“Perfect?” I chuckled to myself as the heat rose to Tim’s cheeks, his eyebrows settling into their usual aggravated pose. “I don’t know what has your panties in such a twist Wayne, but shouldn’t we try to get to know him first? I think he seems nice.”

Tim huffed under his breath, his cheeks filling with air. It was hard for me to contain my giggles as he mumbled to himself, his pout deepening.

Tim Drake-Wayne. He is my absolute, undeniable, unshakeable best friend. We met back when my parents decided to drag me halfway across the world for a change of pace. I was in the fifth grade when a young irritable boy with a coffee addiction wandered into the bakery alone, demanding a double shot of espresso to deal with the day.

After several visits, we became closer and closer until we were inseparable. Tim’s been through a lot. He was emotionally abused by his parents, forced to mature too quickly. We had just entered the eighth grade when those same parents died and he was adopted by the town’s billionaire, Bruce Wayne. I was sure I would never see him again, but after much convincing (bugging), Bruce decided public school was best for Tim so that he wouldn’t be isolated again.

I adore Tim with my whole heart, really, but there is one thing he does that I absolutely despise.

“After school today, let me take you to the new coffee shop that just opened! It’ll be just like a date.” His wink only strengthened my urge to knock him flat.

“First of all, quit joking about my lack of a love life. I don’t need a pity date from you. Second, how do you switch so easily from grueling to jokes? Don’t you get whiplash or something?”

It’s a daily occurrence. I mention someone I like or that someone is cute and immediately Tim jokes about how it would just be easier if I dated him instead. It’s the only thing he does that has ever truly gotten on my nerves.

My gaze returned to the front of the classroom where Adrien had settled into his new seat. Even the back of his head had every hair perfectly placed. How did he even begin to manage that? I wasn’t sure how long I had stared, but before I knew it the bell had sounded and I was whisked away by Tim before I could even say hi.

The same pattern repeated itself every day for weeks.

Every time I would work up the courage to say something to him, Tim drug me away as fast as he could manage. Although, I can’t place the entire blame on Tim. There was one other factor, one factor worse than Tim.

Lila Rossi.

As student body president, she vowed that it was her duty to show Adrien around the school and around town. I spent every night scrolling through dozens of snapchats and instagram stories filled with her hanging off of his arm.

Even if I could escape Tim’s grasps, there was no way she would let me get in a ten-foot radius of him.

At least, that was what I thought. There was one time during the day that Adrien had a moment to himself. Fifth period when the music room was abandoned and most took off for their internships or club activities.

I discovered him by accident, truly. My club had let out early for the day and while most people would take off to head home or to one of Gotham’s more popular afternoon hangouts, I wanted to wait for Tim.

It was never my plan to corner him, but as I flung open the music room’s door without a second thought, my eyes met startled green and my heart dropped to my stomach.

“I’m so sorry! Usually, the music room is empty right now and I thought I could find some peace, and I didn’t know you were in here and oh my god I’m such a dork.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth before I could spiral any further, his widening eyes sending my heart deeper. This was it. I finally had a chance to introduce myself and I wasted it. If there was any way I could just slink away, crawl into a six-foot hole, and simply wither away in misery, I would take it without hesitation.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll just head out no-” I could feel the heat rising to my face as the most precious sound I ever had the pleasure of experiencing erupted from him. His laugh could literally cure cancer, I was sure of it.

“No, no, you’re fine! Marinette, right?” He knew my name? Adrien Agreste, the most perfect man in the world, no, in the universe, knew who I was?

I could barely find the strength to nod, the heat in my cheeks becoming unbearable. He offered a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck in such a gentle and shy manner. It was too effective. There was no way I wasn’t going to pass out before Tim got out of his AV club.

“I’m sorry, I also didn’t realize that anyone used this room besides me. I’ve spent the past few weeks in here while everyone was in their clubs.”

“You didn’t want to join anything?” Was my voice always this high? I couldn’t remember. To be honest, I was still in a daze from his precious laugh.

“It wasn’t that! It’s just, there’s nothing here that really interests me. I prefer classical things, like the piano and musicals and French theater. Nothing that interests normal kids our age.”

French theater? I knew some from the days I spent with my Grandfather in Paris. He was a sucker for classical things as well.

“I don’t think that those are weird interests. I mean, I prefer to design as my hobby, but I’ve spent quite a few hours watching French musicals with my papy. I am very knowledgable if I do say so myself.”

Adrien’s smile was blinding as he slid over on the piano bench, offering the spot beside him. My heart had finally returned to normal, but just one small motion had sent it into a flurry as it desperately tried to escape my chest.

“Let’s make a bet Marinette.” I found myself nodding before he even finished his sentence, his infectious smile starting to pull a smile of my own. “If you can guess the song and musical, you can ask for anything you want from me.”

“And if I get it wrong?” I was so sure the air was thinner beside him, the glint in his eyes drawing my breath away.

“Then I can ask you for anything I want, deal?” I hesitated for a moment, unable to comprehend that he would even want anything from me to begin with, but seconds later my head began to move, my breathing scarce.

I closed my eyes as his fingers hit the first notes, a beautiful melody following. The song was so familiar, so simple, but it was so hard to focus with him so close by. All too soon, the echoes of the final note rang through the room until a deafening silence settled atop of it.

“So, any guesses?”

I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth, a name settling in the forefront of my mind.

“It’s definitely Sur Deux Notes, but for some reason, I can’t remember the musical”

My eyes flickered open as I resisted the urge to jolt backward. His face was mere centimeters away, everything about him urging me to lean forward, to give in.

“A true tragedy Miss Marinette,” a finger popped up to bop my nose before he slid off the bench, offering his hand to help me stand. “You got it half right! It’s from the musical Les Chansons d'Amour. Which means-”

His pauce was dramatic as I stood, his grip on my hand loose.

“I win! Therefore, I get to ask you for anything correct? That was the deal?” His smirk was so playful, it almost felt dangerous. “So, Ma Dame, what are your plans this weekend?”

“Nothing!” That was definitely too quick, do I look desperate? Honestly, if it meant staring at that smile for a second more, I found myself caring less and less.

“Then, how about I help you refresh your musical knowledge? I believe I can get ahold of a copy of the original Les Chansons d’Amour by Saturday.”

This was a date, right? I wasn’t dreaming, the red throbbing spot on my arm pretty much guaranteed it. Somewhere along the line, I must have nodded, and as he gently released my hand turning to grab his bag, all the warmth left with him. Already, I found myself longing for his touch again.

“I hate to ask, but can you meet me at Wayne Manor? I’m sure Mounseir Bruce would allow me to borrow a car, but I am not quite comfortable asking him for something like that.”

“Sure-” I felt the gears turning in my head until the final one clicked into place. “I’m sorry, did you say Wayne Manor? As in Bruce Thomas Wayne? Gotham’s Favorite Billionaire?”

“Ah yes,” his hand moved to the back of his neck, a sheepish smile replacing his confident one from moments before. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but he was the only one my father would let me stay with. I couldn’t even apply for housing because he already had it set up. Does that make you feel awkward?”

“Oh no, of course not! I’m well acquainted with the Waynes! In fact, there is one that I forgot I was supposed to meet today. Can I give you my number really quick?”

As I handed him his phone and we bid goodbye, I couldn’t even begin to relish in the high I was feeling. No. The only thing I could focus on was how to murder one little Wayne boy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Marinette, c’mon! It’s not that serious. So what if I didn’t tell you that Adrien was staying here?”

I tapped my pencil against my forehead, trying to ignore the pestering fly beside me.

The minute I had stepped out of the music room a couple of days before, I encountered two of the biggest thorns in my life. Tim paling at the sight of my rage and one insufferable bitch wearing the ugliest scowl. He ran from me then, he ignored my texts and calls, and I’m assuming once Adrien mentioned our date to Bruce, he decided there was no more avoiding it.

“Besides, he sounds pretty cheap if he’s making you meet him at Bruce’s house. Watching musicals? Like with your grandfather? Is he ancient or something?”

I gritted my teeth, trying to maintain the silence. There were so many things I wanted to say to him at the moment, but seeing him squirm was the best revenge. Tim loved silence unless it was purposely directed at him. His brothers taught me that years ago.

The bell sounded through the room and I quickly darted out before he could attempt another backhanded apology.

These were the days that I missed my Paris friends. Besides Tim, I was utterly alone. I mean, I technically could hang out with Tim’s siblings, but then I’d still have to see him. There was one person that lived outside the Wayne household, yet I wasn’t sure if I was ready to cross that line yet.

I walked home alone again.

Realistically speaking, I needed to at least work up the patience to face him before Saturday. It was almost a guarantee that he would be there. It wasn’t like he would go out on the weekends. But with only two days just seemed too soon.

I had barely walked into the bakery when my mother excitedly waved me down the landline in hand.

“Marinette! A boy from your school is on the line!”

I raised an eyebrow as I accepted the phone, waving her off. There was only one boy that knew the landline number and that was Tim, but if he were on the phone, she would’ve said so.

“Hello?”

The silence was deafening. For a moment, I was sure they had hung up and was about to follow suit when a soft voice sent chills down my spine.

“Marinette? It’s Adrien. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

My breath caught in my throat. Did he ask Tim for my number? But he has my cell? It didn’t matter how he got it or why he was using it, I just needed to respond.

“No-” I cleared my throat trying to find my real voice because it certainly wasn’t how I just spoke. “No, it’s not a bother at all.”

“Great, so, I heard from Lila that there was a homecoming dance coming up. I haven’t been to one before, but I was wondering if I could go with you?”

“Of course I would love-” My heart sank before I could finish my sentence. Laughter cut me off, two distinct laughs that I could pick out from anywhere. “Don’t you ever get tired Lila!”

“Oh my god, you were so excited huh? Pretty pathetic that you think he would fall for you after one conversation Mari dear.”

I didn’t even know how to respond. She wasn’t wrong. We shared one song and haven’t even gone on one date yet, why would I even believe this for one moment?

“Yo Mari, what’s good xinh đẹp?” I felt my hand rising to massage my temples before I could even find the strength to respond.

“Kim, were you trying to call her beautiful, or do you just suck that much at your grandmother’s native language?”

Muffled arguing continued for a few minutes, a few too many for me to question why I still hadn’t hung up. There was a concerning shriek before silence followed.

“I’m surprised you’re still here dumbinette, do you like being degraded by me?” Her laughter sounded like nails on a chalkboard and I could feel the tightness in my chest rising to my throat. “I just wanted to call to make one thing clear. Stay away from Adrien Agreste. I set my sights on him the minute he walked through those doors back in August and I don’t want you to think for even a second in that pitiful brain of yours that you even have a chance, okay?”

I wanted to argue, I wanted to rub it in her face that I had a date this Saturday, one I didn’t have to force upon him like she had the past few weeks. But the tightness had settled, crushing my windpipes. My hand inched down from my temple to my eyes where they were met with a warm wet tear.

“Mmkay, that was all babe! See you at school, hugs and kisses! Mwah!”

The phone stayed pressed to my ear for too long, the dial tone mocking my existence.

It was just two more days till my date, but I felt less confident as the days passed. A single thought passed through my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. No matter how I felt, I couldn’t cave in and call Tim. Yeah, that’s right, I was still mad at him. But was I really?

I was so sure that I was pissed beyond belief when I had to hear from Adrien that he was staying with him, but that wasn’t something that was completely out of my mind. Tim had done worse things than withhold information about someone I thought was cute.

Slowly, I lowered the phone, my fingers absentmindedly dialing his number, pausing as my finger lingered over call.

No, not tonight. I cleared out the screen before dropping it on the bakery counter, waving off my mother’s concerned look. Nobody could ruin the fact that I had a date on Saturday. Not even my own self-destructive tendencies. Adrien asked me out. He asked me out. That was a fact and no matter what Lila or Tim thought or did, it couldn’t shake that undeniable fact.

There were two days. Plenty of enough time to finish the dress I had been fiddling with the past two weeks. I will show up to this date with my head held high and my hopes higher

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Oh! Marinette what a fun surprise! You look beautiful!”

I inhaled sharply, ignoring the urge to smack the grin right off of Tim’s face.

“Timothy. Is Adrien home?” His smile faltered for a moment as he stepped out of the way, inviting me inside.

“Is this your new project? You were working on it for so long. It looks stunning!” He stumbled over his meaningless compliments as he led me to the entertainment room, my silence too much for him to bear.

“You don’t have to escort me, Timothy. I have been here a million and one times.”

I reached past Tim to open the doors, ignoring the fact that he refused to move. There was a strong temptation to just slam the door a little harder so that it would reach his nose, but a set of startling green eyes eased the feeling.

“Marinette! Oh mon Dieu, Tim was supposed to let me know when the doorbell rang so that I could greet you. I’m so sorry, I swear I really am a proper gentleman.”

“It’s okay Adrien! Really! I should’ve texted you that I arrived. I’m just so used to letting myself in.”

His smile was full of relief as it sent my heart into a flurry. Was it really possible to sit close to this man without combusting?

“Please, join me! I just figured out how to set everything up.”

Adrien motioned to the seat beside him and as I slid into the couch, I was fully aware of his arm resting behind my head. It felt nearly impossible to focus on the movie in this position. As he pressed play, my eyes glanced between him and the screen, unsure which was more deserving of my attention.

“So my friends, what are we watching?” Adrien’s arm flinched, his elbow knocking the back of my head as we both jumped from the couch.

“Tim, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t a fan of French musicals?”

Adrien was putting it nicely, something I could admire him for since my thoughts were definitely straying to a much more violent response. Tim took a handful of popcorn, shoving it into his mouth as he slipped into the spot I had been sitting moments before.

“I usually don’t, but I figured I should get to know you both a little better and your culture of course. Don’t mind me, you won’t hear another peep.” He mockingly zipped his lips closed, his sickeningly sweet smile not quite reaching his devilish eyes.

Adrien glanced at me as if he were unsure to argue or not. I suppose he decided it wasn’t quite was worth it as he moved to sit back down, his smile shaky.

With as much might as I could muster, I shimmied in between the two guys, putting as much distance between Tim and me as I could. I felt his glare burning holes into the side of my head, but there was no way I was going to let him ruin my perfect first date with the perfect guy.

Adrien restarted the movie and for exactly five minutes, Tim kept his promise.

“Can we at least turn on the subtitles? My french is a little rusty.”

I gritted my teeth as Adrien nodded, the screen changing to fit in the white words.

“God that’s tiny, is there any way to make them larger?”

“Uhm, I’m not very sure? It took a while to figure out the controls.” A fist shot past my face, spreading in wait. Adrien looked wary as he placed the remote into Tim’s outstretched hand.

“This should do.” What was once manageable small words were now purple and taking up a third of the screen. I could feel Adrien tense up beside me, but he refused to argue.

We continued on like this for the duration of the movie. Tim would find something new to complain about making our date feel less and less romantic and more like amicable divorcees taking their child out.

“Wow, what a beautiful movie!” Tim dabbed at nonexistent tears, his smile irritating me half to death. “What’s next guys?”

“I, uhm, actually have to head back. After all, I told Maman I wouldn’t be out late.”

“Let me walk you home!” The silence was deafening as both boys traded glances with one another, daring the other to speak again.

“Enough Tim! This was my date tonight with Adrien, not you! Quit acting like some jealous boyfriend!” Both sets of eyes turned toward me, one set glowing, the other dull.

Tim closed his slack jaw before he gathered his trash, mumbling under his breath as he left.

I took a minute, watching the door to ensure he wouldn’t turn back with some dumb retort like he always did, but instead, it remained shut. I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, urging me forward.

“I’ll walk you home Marinette.” I managed a nod as I let Adrien lead me out of the room and out of the manor.

We walked in silence for a while, his gentle touch both calming and warm in the cool October air.

“Marinette, I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly how I planned for our first date to go. I’m not sure what was up with Tim.”

My laugh was curt as I slowed my pace, the bakery coming into view far too quickly.

“Tim is just lonely. I know that, yet I’ve been ignoring him some time for petty reasons. He just,” I paused, steps away from the windows to avoid any unwanted audiences, “he just can take the jokes too far sometimes and I can’t handle that.”

Adrien nodded as if he sort of understood what I meant, his eyes glancing to the building beside us.

“Is this your house? Do you live above the bakery?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s an apartment above with a side entrance. So I suppose, this would be my stop.” His chuckle echoed as he moved his hand from my back to brushing against my own hanging hand.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t how I imagined it would go, but can I at least end it how I planned?”

My heart was certainly ready to burst as he gently turned me until our noses were mere centimeters apart. He seemed to be waiting, his lips parted ever so slightly. This was my chance, and yet I was too mesmerized by how close he was. Could I at least nod?

Perhaps I did. The confirmation he waited for set him in motion as he closed to the slight distance between us. His lips were warm and soft and I felt as if I could melt into the sidewalk, as happy as could be.

It almost felt life ending when he finally pulled back, his smile sending my head spinning.

“I’ll see you Monday, Marinette. Goodnight.” He lifted my hand, placing a small peck against my knuckles before releasing it, turning to leave me dumbfounded in front of my own house. My eyes trailed after him, only allowing me to step toward my own home once he was just out of sight.

There was literally nothing that could ruin the high that I was on during that very moment. If only I had known what was waiting for me as I turned the knob.

“Welcome home hunny! Look who decided to stop by to see you!”

The color drained from my face as the snarky smile set off every alarm in my mind.

“Long time, no see Dupain-Cheng. I thought the first thing you would do when I got here was come and see me, but I guess that was too much to hope for now wasn’t it.”

“Chloe, you know you’ve been busy, so why are you acting like it’s all my fault?”

Her heavy, dramatic sigh reminded me exactly why I hadn’t reached out. Chloe is one my best friends besides Tim, but she can be a bit much sometimes. Imagine being so average that even when you stand next to a pillar, you make the pillar look more outstanding. Got that picture? Now imagine little old average me standing next to a three times Miss Junior World Wide pageant winner.

See? A bit much for my mental health to hang out in public with her.

“C’mon now, you know that’s not the only thing stopping you from calling. Your mother told me you had a date tonight. You finally give that Wayne boy a chance?”

I rolled my eyes as I slid into the chair across from her, the weight of the night finally hitting.

“You and I both know he’s just messing with me, mocking me if you will.” Chloe shared a look with my mother, both sighing. I knew what they were thinking, but they didn’t know Tim. He was always like that, always will be. “Besides, there was a transfer student. From Paris to be exact.”

I knew I had captured her attention as she leaned forward, her fingers intertwining before resting on the table.

“Maybe you know him. From what I gathered, he and his family are Paris elites. Adrien Agreste-”

“Mhmm, girl, drop him now.”

I paused as I waited to see if she would elaborate, but instead, she just sat back in her chair as if already bored with the conversation.

“Why should I? He’s so handsome and so sweet and we both share similarities. He’s so perfect Chloe.”

“Yeah, no.” She glanced over her pristine nails as if looking for a crack in the polish to punish. “He is a daddy’s boy and you are not his father’s type. His father will insist he marry someone that would be good for business and I’m sorry but you’re not that Marinette.”

“Marriage?” I could feel myself burning red at the implication. “We only went on one date, Chloe!”

“And it should stay that way. Trust me, he and his family are nothing but trouble for you. You should ask out Tim instead.”

“Are you done?” Chloe sighed before nodding, letting her hand fall to hit the table with an exaggerated smack. “I know that he is out of my league. Trust me, for someone so perfect like him, he needs perfect to match. In fact, I was planning on calling you soon anyway, but since you’re here..”

I trailed off, waiting for her to draw her own conclusion.

“Marinette, nobody is perfect. Stop putting him on a pedestal before you hurt yourself.”

If I weren’t mistaken, I would almost think she was concerned for me, but that just wasn’t Chloe’s style.

“So can you do it or not?”

Her sigh was long and drawn out, ending in a slight nod.

“Let’s get to it. We have a lot of work to do before Monday rolls around.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You know, I had always wondered how Lila felt walking into school every day knowing that every set of eyes was pinned to her.

Now I knew.

It was revolting. How could she walk so confidently knowing that everyone was gaping at her, certainly waiting for her to mess up? At least, that’s how it felt as people didn’t even bother to hide their broken necks as I whisked past them.

It would be a lie if I didn’t disclose that I practically dove into the safety of my homeroom before I fell into a full-blown panic attack.

“Marinette?” I stiffened as I peaked up at the boy standing in front of my desk. It had been two whole days and Tim hadn’t even messaged me, yet here he was, his mouth hanging as low as everyone else’s. “Are you wearing make-up?”

I nodded as he slipped into his usual seat, his expression shifting from surprise to one of suspicion.

“This has Chloe’s handiwork all over it. Did she stop your house or something this morning?”

“She’s staying for the next couple of weeks to avoid that shady hotel on fifth that her mom booked for her.”

Tim nodded with understanding, but not another word was spoken. It almost felt like a dagger to my heart. Where was the Tim I knew with the backhanded compliments and joke dates? Surely if a makeover couldn’t get a reaction from him, what was I expecting from Adrien?

I let out a sigh as I fell forward, my forehead resting on the cool desk. Where was Adrien anyways? He was always ten minutes early for every class. This was so unlike him.

“Oh my god! There you are Mariboo!” A shiver traveled down my spine jolting me up in my seat. There was only one person with an annoying shrill in their voice that could outmatch Chloe’s.

“Lila? You’re not even in this class. What do you want?”

Her laugh felt like listening to a cat using the blackboard as its new scratching post. I couldn’t help but flinch as she placed a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder.

“You’re so mean Mariboo! I was coming to make sure that we were still on for lunch today! Adrikins had a photoshoot this morning but he wanted to invite all of us to eat with him on his break!”

Her enthusiasm was sickening.

“But Lila, you don’t like me-”

“Don’t like you? Babe! What is with you today? If my boyfriend asks me to bring you to lunch then that’s all I need to confirm our sisterhood.” Boyfriend. Boyfriend. I couldn’t be bothered to hide my shock as Lila’s fake smile shifted to show her more sinister and true smirk. “Yeah, Boyfriend. We went to dinner last night and he asked me there! So romantic huh? Anyways, I trust I’ll see you later then huh? Okay then! Hugs and Kisses, byee!!”

My eyes narrowed as they shifted to where Tim sat beside me, feigning ignorant to the interaction. Was this his retaliation for what I had blurted out on Saturday? I only called it how I saw it and it was Tim’s fault for pushing me that far! He was being childish at this point.

“Do you think she’s lying about Adrien asking her out?” The silence was deafening as Tim slowly lowered his forehead to the desk, his eyes shut tightly as if trying to imagine he was anywhere else than right beside me. Regardless, I tried to continue. “It has to be a lie, right? I mean Adrien said he liked me, not her! We even kissed.”

Tim’s body stiffened beside me. Of course, that would get a rise out of him, he was always overprotective about those kinds of things. Alas, my excitement was dulled as he returned to his relaxed state once more, his silence continued.

Whatever. I don’t need Tim. I can figure this out for myself. All I had to do was wait till lunch.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Oh my! You actually came! How exciting.” Lila’s smile was dripping with false elation, a hint of thrill dancing in her eyes as if she couldn’t wait for the drama to unfold in front of her. “Aidrikins, look who it is!”

Adrien wouldn’t even meet my eyes, his arm dangling lifelessly from Lila’s shoulders. If I had to guess, he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. The thought leaked its way into a small smile.

“Why don’t you take a seat Mariboo? I have someone who wanted to talk to you. Someone who loved your little-” she paused, her nose scrunching up as she searched for the right word,”-transformation?”

I didn’t even have time to question her before I was thrown off balance, an arm forcing me into the chair at the table.

“‘Sup girl? You’re looking fine today.” Instant dread flooded my soul as I was squeezed into a damp t-shirt that I could only assume was sweat-drenched. “You don’t mind if I slide in beside you eh?”

“Kim-Get. Your. Arm. Off. Me. Now.”

“Woah, woah, c’mon little lady. Don’t be like that! You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you Marinette.”

Lila’s smile was infuriating as she watched as Kim pushed me into the open seat, his arm heavy on my shoulders.

“What is the meaning of this Lila?” Her eyes feigned innocence as she cocked her head to the side, her fingers tapping the table.

“Whatever do you mean Marinette? I’m just trying to help you get over your heart break now that Adrikins has chosen me to be his girlfriend. You know the old saying; ‘the best way to get over one is to get under another’.”

I could barely stand to let her finish before I pushed Kim away, taking off ducking so that he couldn’t reach out again. Why did I think for even a second that this would turn out okay? Did I expect Adrien to wrap me up in his warm arms and tell me she was just a joke? How stupid of me.

“Marinette?” I slowed down long enough to catch Tim’s worried gaze, the strength in my legs finally giving out as I slumped to the ground. “Marinette! What happened?”

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t seem to find my voice. I reached up absentmindely to where the warmth in my cheeks sat, recoiling at the dampness I found. Had I started crying? When did that happen?

“Here, take this.” I didn’t even bother to look up as the weight of Tim’s jacket slipped over my shoulders. He gently helped me to my feet, pulling me toward the door that led to the courtyard, a bench in view. “Can you make it to our spot?”

My voice still seemed to fail me, a nod was all I could manage. It was enough for Tim who seemed to understand. The moment the back of my knees hit the cool wood, I buckled. Tim crouched in front of me, reaching out hesitantly to brush some of the leftover tears lingering on my cheek.

“Is this because of Adrien?” The air left my lungs, my body going rigid. “This is what I was worried about Mari. He seems perfect, but the jerk was torn between you or popularity. Anyone who can’t see the right choice there isn’t deserving of you.”

“Torn between me and popularity?” My voice was hoarse, it sounded unfamiliar.

“Yeah. He had the audacity to ask for my advice as to whether or not it was worth it to date you or have friends. Can you believe that? As if Lila’s little group will still want him after his newness has worn off.”

“And what did you tell him?” Tim stiffened as he shifted his eyes away from mine. “Tim, what was your advice to him?”

“He told me to drop you because you only saw your old life in me and that you weren’t as invested in this as I was.” My body felt as stiff as Tim’s looked as we both glanced to where he stood, breathless and red, his own eyes tinging pink as if he were holding back tears himself.

“Stop.” Tim’s voice was a whisper, his hand retracting from where it had been resting on my cheek. Adrien took a step forward, holding his head higher as he looked down on the two of us.

“He told me that you always had short-lived crushes and that you longed for your old life often. So much so that when I showed up, you were more fascinated by what I could offer over who I was.”

“That’s not what I said-”

“It’s exactly what you told me! So imagine my surprise when she showed up at lunch today looking like I had pulled the rug out from under her feet. Marinette, this isn’t what I meant to happen. I like you, alot. And if you like me too, I’d want to give this a shot, truly.”

My brain felt as if it were short-circuiting. Tim had done many things in the past to thwart my crushes but he’d never put me in a situation that would hurt me. Never. Yet, when my eyes met Adrien’s, something sincere stirred, pulling at my heart.

“Tim?” His eyes shifted to mine, tears brimming at the edge threatening to spill at any moment. Was this really the face of a selfish man sabotaging me? “I want to hear it from you, Tim. What was your advice to Adrien?”

“Marinette, I already told you-” Adrien fell silent at the sight of my palm, urging him to stop. It wasn’t a lack of trust in him, it was the fact that I felt too much trust for Tim. I just knew he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, he-

“That’s more or less what I told him,” he was barely audible but I heard every word clearly as they pierced my chest. “But Marinette, I couldn’t watch him string you along anymore. You don’t know the conversations he has at night with Lila, you don’t know-”

I couldn’t imagine the face I was making right now. I couldn’t even begin to fathom a face to make in the first place. Nothing out of Tim’s mouth was making sense. Adrien was telling the truth? Tim really said that about me?

“Marinette, please listen-” my hand moved before I could think, smacking Tim’s as it attempted to rest itself back on my cheek.

“Tim.” He seemed to understand as he stood, taking a step back from where I sat. “Tim, just,-I-”

I didn’t even know what to say. Why did it hurt so bad? What was this gut-wrenching feeling? It wasn’t like this was the first time Tim had sabotaged a crush. But wasn’t it the first that he had gone this far? The first he had said such awful things to me? Right?

“I think you should leave Wayne.” There was a tense moment where the air stood still and the two boys in front of me stared each other down, daring the other to speak again. It was Tim who would inevitably give in, stepping back toward the school building without a glance back. And for some reason, that hurt most of all.

His face, what face was he making right now as he walked away? It’s the only thing I can think about, it’s monopolizing my thoughts. Tim, Tim, Tim-

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.” Adrien pulled me forward until I was pressed into his chest, the dampness of my cheeks finally hitting. When did the tears start? Why did they start? “Marinette, I don’t know what Tim has said about me, but I really do have feelings for you. I never once faltered when it came to that. Is there any way you could give me a second chance?”

His heart was pounding. Was he nervous? I could hear the words coming out of his mouth, but I couldn’t process the meaning behind them. Was he asking me out?

“A second chance? Aren’t you dating Lila?”

“I am, but I’m not. I-I don’t care for her as I do you. It was just that Tim told me you weren’t interested and she has been asking me for weeks now. I’m sorry. I know this doesn’t look good on my part, but I swear Marinette. If you tell me right now that you will accept my request, then I’ll leave her. It’s you that I want Marinette. So what do you say?”

“I-I don’t know what to say. I mean, Adrien it was one date. Are you sure you want to throw away your relationship on one date?”

Adrien pulled back, his eyes shining as elegantly as the first time I saw them.

“I’m sure Marinette. I would be willing to bet anything on you.” Hesitantly, he reached forward, wiping the tear stains from my face, his hand remaining on my cheek. “May I?”

I couldn’t process just what he was asking, my mind still boggled with thoughts of Tim retreating. I could feel my face being pulled forward ever so slowly, his nose nearly tickling my own. Was this okay? Was it okay to allow him to steal yet another kiss? Was Tim right? Did I truly care about Adrien or was he just another crush? He paused, his lips mere centimeters from mine.

“Is this okay Marinette?”

No, Tim was wrong. Adrien was wonderful and caring and I actually liked him. This was something I decided for myself regardless of Tim’s opinions. It was my turn to close the distance between us. His lips were soft and delicate, almost hesitant as he returned the kiss. As he pulled away, my head felt dazed. It was different from the melting sensation I had felt before. This one was gentle, like a promise sealed between the two of us. It was comforting.

"Come with me Saturday,” my voice felt foreign as it slipped out of my mouth, unsure of where this surge of courage came from. “My friend has a fashion show and while it’s not the most exciting thing in the world, I’m sure it would be much better with you there.”

“If it’s with you, I’m sure it will be a blast. I’d love to come, Marinette.”

There was a pause as I registered his words in my head.

“So, like a date..right?”

Adrien’s laugh bellowed through the courtyard as he stood, offering his hand to help me stand as well.

“Exactly like a date.” He pulled my hand forward until his lips brushed over my knuckles, his warmth lingering even after he released his grip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to take care of a certain someone before I can officially call you mine.”

Adrien offered a small wave before turning to jog back inside.

I remained standing, my eyes following his retreating figure. He left through the same door that Tim had, reminding me once again, that I also had someone I should take care of. But was that the case? Tim never explained himself, just upped and left after Adrien suggested he should.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t trust Adrien and what he said, it just felt wrong to watch Tim leave me, to leave my side without a word.

Maybe we both just needed some space. After all, I had no idea what I would do, what I would say if I saw him right now. I would just wait until after Saturday, after my date, after a perfect night out.

Yeah, that would be the best time.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers already dialing before my phone was even in view.

“What do you want Dupain-Cheng? Aren’t you still in class?”

“Well, hello to you too Chloe. I’m doing fine thanks for asking.” There was a deep sigh that resonated through my phone as if she was deciding if I were worth her time. Supposing I was, she clicked her tongue waiting for me to continue. “Adrien agreed to come with me to that show you’re walking in on Saturday.”

“And why would he do that?”

“I would like to assume it’s because he likes me and wants to spend time with me, but that’s just a guess. Who knows for sure?”

Chloe tsked and the line went dead before I could even say another word. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. At least the one thing I could count on was for Chloe to remain constant.

Never mind anything else that occurred, the only thing I had to concentrate on was my date. Forget Tim, forget Lila. I had a perfect date on Saturday and that was the only thing that mattered.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So, enjoying your backstage luxury? Honestly, you’re drooling as if you haven’t eaten in days looking at all these up-and-coming designers.”

I unconsciously wiped the drool that had seeped at the corner of my mouth as I turned in circles taking in the landscape. It wasn’t much. A bunch of thrown-together counter space and curtain dividers, but the hope and exhaustion on everyone’s face as their hard work finally came to light was what made it so fascinating for me..

“I can’t help it, Chloe. I know I told Adrien that it wouldn’t be that exciting, but to be honest, it’s so gratifying watching them. Maybe I’ll take my hobby seriously and find myself here one day. You’ll wear my designs, right Chloe?”

“Mm, you’ll have to prove to me that your designs are worth my time.” She stuck out her tongue, her eyes taunting me to retaliate. “Besides, I know this is all just a deflection Dupain-Cheng. You’re avoiding the original question I asked when you first got here.”

My body stiffened slightly as I shifted my gaze to a nearby model having their make-up fixed. Anywhere but Chloe was a good place to look seeing as the burning sensation in my skull indicated that she was most likely throwing her killer glare in my direction.

“I told you, Chloe, he said he would meet me here and he just hasn’t texted me yet.”

“That sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but whateves.” It was odd that he hadn’t called me or even shot a single text. We were supposed to meet up an hour ago but after thirty minutes of waiting and three missed calls from Chloe, I decided I would wait inside for him to contact me. “The show will be starting soon so you should try and find a decent seat. Maybe lover boy can find the guts to show up before I walk.”

I nodded before edging my way to the curtain separating the audience from the models. Peeking through, my eyes scanned for a certain blonde but alas, he still wasn’t here. I excused myself to the nearest row with two seats left, placing my purse and jacket into the empty one in hopes Adrien would fill it soon.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the announcer jumped on stage, his enthusiastic voice failing to capture my full attention. When Chloe would ask me later if I liked the show, I couldn’t even begin to tell her what she modeled. My thoughts were elsewhere, wondering just why he never even read a single text.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I got my answer just hours after returning from Chloe’s show. In reality, I hadn’t moved from my bed, not particularly sad, just mentally exhausted. It was only after I had finally decided to brush it off as a dead battery or some freak accident, I received a text from someone I never imagined.

“Hey xinh đẹp, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I just couldn’t let this slide.”

Kim had attached a video, nearly a minute long. My heart jumped as I saw the screen frozen on Adrien’s face surrounded by dozens of people, Lila hanging right off of his arm. Was this why he was late? Did he go to break up with Lila? It would explain why he couldn’t answer me.

With a shaky breath, I pressed play, my heart threatening to drop at any moment.

“The fuck is this?”

“Tim?” His name almost sounded foreign in my mouth. What was Tim doing at Lila’s party?

“Leave it be Wayne.”

“Yeah Timmyboo, just leave it be.” Lila giggled as she brought Adrien’s face to hers, leaving small sloppy kisses all over his face. It almost made me sick to my stomach. That looked nothing close to breaking up.

“You told her that you were leaving this bitch! You lied to Marinette.”

“Oh c’mon Tim. Marinette’s nice and all, but her crush on me was overbearing and what was it going to give me in return? Huh?”

“She would’ve given you the world if you asked! How can you not realize that? When Marinette loves someone, she does it with her whole heart. If I had your chance, you bet your life I would never waste it like this!”

Tim… was serious. All those times, he was serious. I can’t believe I thought it was a joke when Tim was constantly pouring his heart out to me.

“Like she would ever give you a chance Wayne. Not after you made it so easy for me to get her to hate you. I’ll let her know eventually, but in reality, she has nothing. Especially compared to Lila. It’s like father always said, relationships are only good for what they can offer yo-”

Adrien never got to finish his sentence as Tim’s fist connected with his face. I could hear Kim let out a string of cusses as the video cut out. There was nothing I could do as I stared at my phone, still processing what I had seen, what I had heard. I stared until the screen blackened and all that was left was my own shocked expression.

For some reason, it didn’t hurt that bad hearing Adrien’s words. Somewhere deep inside of me must have realized that fascination with someone from where I grew up way outshined the actual connection I had made up.

“Tim,” He tried to protect me. It wasn’t just some jealous ulterior motive; Tim just didn’t want to see me hurt. And speaking of Tim, “my God, I have to find Tim!”

I pushed off my bed, racing down the stairs and out the front of the bakery. Maman glanced sideways at me as I zipped past, but she did nothing to stop me, a seemingly knowing smile plastered on her face. I’m sure I’ll deal with her teasing later, but that wasn’t the important thing at the moment.

No, the only thing that mattered was finding-

“Marinette?” My feet planted themselves, my arms involuntarily shooting out to balance myself. Before I had even turned, my heart was already jumping in my throat. “Marinette, where are you going?”

I couldn’t stop myself as I stumbled forward, my steps clumsy as I made my way to where he stood.

“Marinette? I-oof” I threw myself into Tim, my arms tightening around him in fear that if I let go, he would somehow slip away from me. He hesitated for a moment before I felt his own arms wrap themselves around me.

We stood there as seconds passed, neither speaking, just simply holding on for dear life.

“I love you.” His heart raced, reacting to my words much the same as my own. “I’m sorry for everything Tim. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize you never once were joking about your feelings for me. I’m sorry that I let a stupid boy come between me and my best friend. But most of all, I’m sorry that I never had the courage to say it sooner. I love you, Tim.”

All too quickly he pulled back, his hand rushing to his face in an attempt to cover the spreading red.

“You-ou-you-you can’t just spring that on me! I didn’t have any time to prepare. And you took away my big moment! You have no idea the demons that I literally fought to finally work up the courage to come confess! Marinette!”

I felt the giggle bubbling up as Tim attempted to compose himself, the blush ever-burning as it moved to brush against his neck.

“I guess I should add that to my apology speech too huh?”

“Yes! You should! I want a formal apology later for ruining something that I have been planning for since we were kids.”

“And what about now?” Tim cocked his head as I took a small step forward in an attempt to close the space between us. “If that’s what you want for later, what do you want for now?”

I could practically see the wheels turning in Tim’s head as he tentatively reached out, grasping my face as lightly as he could with both hands. Time seemed to stop as he pulled me forward, his breath quick and uneven, much like my racing heart.

“I want to kiss the woman I love, but only if she wants me to.”

“What a coincidence, I also was thinking that I would love to kiss the man in front of me.”

We both moved forward, our lips and teeth colliding at the same time.

“Ow!” Tim released one hand as he covered his mouth. There was a moment of silence before we both erupted, our laughter mingling as it filled the night air. “Somehow, that felt exactly like us.”

I could only nod as my laughter faded out, an ear-splitting smile taking its place.

“It’s okay though because now we can try again any time.”

Tim smiled as he leaned forward once more. “Good, because I would love to try again right now.”

His lips were soft and his kiss was gentle and described in a single word; perfect. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against my own, his heart practically jumping through his shirt.

“Is this real?”

“It is.”

I shared his sentiment. It didn’t feel real that after all this time, after everything that had happened, we had finally found our way back to each other.

I’m sorry if this wasn’t the happy ending you were waiting for. After all, I did warn you that it wasn’t your typical girl meets boy.

In the end, I never quite figured out my question; how do you survive in an extraordinary world when you’re only average? After everything, I still don’t have anything definite, but I suspect that it becomes infinitely easier when you fall in love with your best friend.

As I met Tim’s eyes in our last moments alone that night, the only thought occupying my mind was that never again would I ever let him go.

I found the person that makes my average life extraordinary and he’s always been right by my side.

“Never leave Tim, okay?” I could feel the warmth from his smile before it even appeared.

“You’re only stuck with me for the rest of your life and any time after that.”

I reached forward, intertwining our fingers, relishing in the perfect fit. This was everything I had been searching for and now it was quite literally in my grasps.

This, well this was only the beginning of our story, but that’s a tale for another time, right?

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[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 2

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 can be found here. xxx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 -

Lunch was over and Pricilla organised the boys to go set up the objects for tomorrow night's scavenger hunt around the camp grounds. The boys had drawn the groups their pairs would be in charge of before leaving and JJ and Caroline had gotten Teens 2, whereas Sarah and John B had gotten Teens 1, which meant that, for better or worse, their groups would be partaking in a lot of activities together, seeing as they were both in the same age group.

The girls were given the job to set up the seating area where the bonfire was going to be, so Sarah and Caroline stuck together as they made their way towards the clearance where it was going to be held.

"Can you believe I got paired up with JJ Maybank?" Caroline sighed.

"Beats Routledge by a thousand, I can promise you that," said Sarah, still extremely disappointed, "At least Maybank looks like he takes care of himself."

Caroline chuckled at her comment. John B had also grown his hair out over the years and it was now down to his shoulders.

"He does seem like he is... in touch with nature," Caroline remarked and Sarah laughed genuinely for the first time since drawing the boy’s name out, "Maybe they won't be that bad to work with, besides, it's only nine weeks, what could go wrong?"

Sarah seemed to think for a second before her lips curled into a devious smirk, "Hey, didn't you used to have, like, the biggest crush on Maybank?"

Caroline's cheeks turned red immediately, "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled quickly.

Sarah started laughing, "You totally did! You lucky, lucky bitch! I wish I got paired up with my childhood crush! Instead I get to spend my last summer before moving away with snot-nosed, bug-eating Routledge... Why was the Universe on your side and not on mine?"

They walked behind the rest of the girl counsellors towards the bonfire area. When they arrived, the logs that Pricilla had informed them would be stacked up in a convenient for them to move around way, were all scattered across the ground. The pillows that were meant to go on top of them were also in disarray. All the girls looked around in confusion.

"Surely this couldn't have been the wind?" one of them said.

"Surely this was the boys." said Sarah matter-of-factly, "I'd bet 50 bucks that Routledge had something to do with this."

All the girls turned to look at her in confusion.

"What?" she protested, shrugging her shoulders, "You know I'm right."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "Boys or not, we better sort this mess out before sundown, we have cabins to set up as well."

The girls agreed, Sarah being skeptical but also finally giving in, and little by little, they set up the bonfire area. It took them a little over two hours before they started making their way back to the cabins, which they were supposed to decorate with welcome signs for the arriving campers.

Since Sarah and Caroline were both in charge of the oldest groups, their campers were meant to be sharing two cabins - one for the boys and one for the girls.

"Let's split up, I'll do the boys and you do the girls," Sarah offered, nearly shocking Caroline, "Try being as quick as you can. Meet me back out here in 15 minutes tops." she ordered before scurrying up the steps into the boys’ cabin.

Caroline rushed into the cabin next door, pleasantly surprised by Sarah's sudden determination to get work done. As she was arranging the banners and posters on the walls and ceiling, she couldn't help but think that Sarah must have had some sort of ulterior motive to being this enthusiastic about working. Sure enough, she was right.

She had barely taken a step out of the girls' cabin when Sarah spoke up, "Took you long enough. Now let's go find those stupid guys."

The sun was setting and the woods had gotten a bit chilly as Sarah lead Caroline towards where the male counsellors were supposed to be. After setting up the scavenger hunt objects, they were supposed to set up the archery area. As they were getting closer to the archery grounds, the two girls could hear the laughter of the boys in the nearby distance. Sarah pretended to gag yet again.

"Quick, around here," Caroline pulled Sarah behind the small hut where they kept all of the camp's archery supplies. From their spot they could see the guys quite clearly and could hear everything they were saying, "Remind me again why we're doing this?" Caroline whisper-yelled at Sarah.

"Because I'm still furious about their little prank," Sarah explained, "Which is why I want to prank them back."

"How are we gonna do that exactly?" asked Caroline, "By eavesdropping?"

"A good villain is one that knows the enemy's weaknesses," said Sarah, "First we listen for a bit, and then we make a plan."

Caroline couldn't help but smirk at this new side of Sarah she was seeing. She much preferred this Sarah to the constantly whining, gloating Sarah she had gotten used to over the years. Plus, being somewhat of a daredevil herself, Caroline couldn't help but find the idea of pranking the boys back exciting.

"Can you believe I got paired with Jenna Kinley?" one of the boys, Kelce, said, "Not only are we supposed to work together, but we're also meant to be taking care of babies..." he face palmed himself.

The other boys laughed.

"C'mon, Johnson, 10 year olds are hardly babies," said another one of the boys, Topper, "Besides, working with Kinley will not be nearly as scandalous as working with Hague!"

JJ spoke up next, "Aw, don't be like that, Top," he said, "Madison's not that bad!"

Topper scoffed at JJ, "Easy for you to say! You and Routledge got paired with the best girls out of the bunch! And you got the teens groups!"

Sarah and Caroline smirked at the remark.

"Boys, boys, boys," came John B's voice suddenly, "Let's put this topic behind us, I'm sure you'll all be glad to hear about what I managed to sneak into our cabin." all the boys were now staring at John B in anticipation, "16 bottles of pure, fine whiskey, m'boys. Safe to say, tonight will be a ball."

"Bingo..." Sarah and Caroline smiled mischievously at each other, the perfect prank idea forming in both of their heads.

They quietly made their way back to where all the cabins were and sat at one of the patios.

"So here's the plan," said Sarah, "We sneak into their cabin, raid Routledge's luggage and steal his bottles of whiskey. Let's go now!"

Caroline stopped her, "No, no, not now!" she hissed, "They're gonna go to their cabin before dinner and Routledge's gonna want to show them his stash! We'll sneak out during dinner. Oh, and, I suggest we throw a party of our own to this occasion."

Sarah smirked at Caroline, "I like where you're going with this, Carrie," she said, patting Caroline's shoulder before standing up to go into their cabin, "Not bad for a nerd."

Caroline sighed, there was the old Sarah again.

~~~~~~~~

“Windsor!” Caroline heard a voice behind her call out, “Been paired up for a whole day now and we still haven’t the chance to talk!”

Caroline turned around to find a beaming JJ smiling at her. Had he come over from the boys table specifically for her? She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn slightly.

“We can talk,” she said quickly.

JJ took a seat next to her on the long bench. She could feel the heat in her cheeks become even hotter. JJ didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, or awkwardness.

“How’s life been then?” he asked.

Caroline took a deep breath to soothe her nerves, looking up, only to find a smirking Sarah crossing her arms across from her at the table.

“Just the regular, nothing too special,” she said, frowning quickly at Sarah before turning to face JJ again, hoping he hadn’t noticed Sarah’s behavior.

JJ jokingly frowned, “Nothing too special? I heard you got accepted into Charleston University, that’s like super special.”

Caroline cringed internally, “Did you happen to hear anything else by any chance?”

JJ smirked, “Not sure what you’re talking about,”

Caroline wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not but she pretended to not be bothered.

“Well I hear you’re throwing a party tonight,” Caroline crossed her arms in front of her.

JJ smirked even more, “Where’d you hear that from?”

“Why?” she tempted, “Is my source wrong?”

“Hardly,” JJ bit back, standing up, “So perhaps I’ll see you there.”

With that he walked back to where the other male counsellors were sat, giving one last look at Caroline, smirk never leaving his face.

Sarah started laughing loudly, “Looks like someone’s got their eye on little Carrie,” she teased, “Lucky, lucky bitch.”

Caroline rolled her eyes at her, “Bullshit,”

Sarah leaned over the table to whisper to Caroline, “I like the way you handled the situation, we’re definitely going to be there, on more occasions than one.”

Caroline looked at her watch, “Shit, it’s getting late, we better go now!”

And with that, they snuck their way out of the Wildcat Lodge and towards the boys’ cabin.

“Crap, the door’s locked!” Sarah cursed.

Caroline looked around. One of the upper windows seemed to be open. This gave her an idea.

“Sarah, do you still do cheerleading?” she looked at the girl, a plan forming in her brain.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’s that got to do with anything? And duh, how else would my legs look this good?”

Caroline’s lips turned into a grin, “Give me a lift.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

Caroline nodded her head towards the upper window and Sarah whined, “Why’s it always me?”

Silently, they rushed into position. Sarah took her stance, her hands ready to lift up Caroline’s body. Caroline balanced herself on Sarah’s shoulders as Sarah readied her hands to push her up. In one swift motion, Caroline had pulled herself in through the upper window and was now inside the cabin. She immediately went to the door to unlock the handle from the inside so that Sarah could let herself in.

The two girls looked around the space. It was dark and the only light penetrating into it was the one from the lamps outside. Three pairs of bunk beds were sitting there, covered in unpacked suitcases, boxes and bags.

“Great,” sighed Caroline in annoyance, “How are we ever going to figure out which one’s Routledge’s?”

Sarah took a better look at all of the bunk beds again, her eyes landing on one with a particularly large suitcase with a Green Peace sign on it, “My guess is that it’s that one.”

They went over to the suitcase and Sarah nervously leaned over it, “Eurgh, bug eating Routledge better not have live animals in there,” she said as she quickly ripped open the zipper, flinching away as soon as it came undone.

“That’s it!” Caroline excitedly said, “Help me pick it up!”

The suitcase contained three changes of clothes and a large box filled with unopened bottles of whiskey, just like they had heard John B brag about by the archery area. The two girls combined all of their strength to lift the heavy box off the bed and made their way towards the door, when they heard a loud thumping sound from the back of the cabin. Something heavy had fallen in the corner of the cabin that was unlit by the outdoor lamps, making both girls slightly jump and nearly tip over the box full of alcohol. They squinted their eyes in the direction where the sound came from, however they couldn’t make out anything in the thick darkness.

“What was that?” Sarah said nervously.

“Whatever it was,” Caroline said, leading them out of the door, “We can’t wait around to find out.”

With that they were out of the cabin, closing the door behind them and making their way back to their own cabin quickly.

They hid the box inside the storage room and decided to sneak back into the Wildcat Lodge, so that nobody would question their whereabouts.

There was half an hour left until the end of dinner service as Sarah and Caroline sat back at their designated table, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as they could.

“Do you think someone saw us in there?” whispered Sarah so that only Caroline could hear.

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, “I really hope not, but I did get the weird feeling that we were being watched once we heard that noise,”

Sarah shuddered, “Yeah, major heebie jeebies in there. Glad the boys got that cabin and not us.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “Relax, Sarah, worst case scenario is it was just one of the guys and he saw us stealing tonight’s party supplies.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “I swear to God if it was Routledge -”

“If it was Routledge, he wouldn’t have let us get away with it,”

“Shit, Carrie, you’re totally right!” Sarah unwillingly raised her voice, “Who do you think it was?”

Caroline shrugged again, “Honestly? I don’t think it was anyone, I just think something happened to fall down on its own.”

“Hmm… You’re probably right again.” Sarah turned to look at the big clock on the wall, “We’d better get going, we’ve got to get ready for that party you got invited to!” she winked at Caroline, smirking.

Caroline looked towards the boys table where JJ was already looking back at her, a smile dancing on his thin lips. She met his eyes and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. She decided to give him a little wave to which he happily waved back.

“Hello?” Sarah’s annoyed voice broke Caroline’s focus from JJ, “Are you coming or what? I want us to look good for when we see the guys’ disappointed faces tonight!”

Caroline sighed and followed Sarah out of the Lodge. Tonight was going to be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I know I only just uploaded the first part, but I want to establish the Camp Willowdale universe as fast as possible so that the actual story can take off and it does in the next part. I'm going to create a taglist for people who have shown interest in the story thus far, so if you want to be included, make sure to leave a reply so that I can include you in the next part.

Also if you haven't noticed so far, this story, aside from fun and romantic, will be quite campy so I hope you're into that. We've also got quite the mystery coming up so stay tuned for that as well x

Alsoooo please give me some inspiration on who I can base Caroline off, I'm kind of leaving her up to the reader's imagination so that you can just imagine yourself as her, but ideally I'd like to have someone who's picture I can use for future photos. I've got my mind set on Maia Mitchel, but feel free to drop recommendations too.

Anyways, let me know what you think this far and feel free to check out the rest of my works in my masterlist. xxx

Part 3 here

[13uswntimagines]

I’m in Love With You Dumbass (Christen x reader)

Request: R are in love with Chris and she’s close with Chris and Tobin so she really think that she wont stand a chance. R is USWNTs videographer/content creator.

Authors Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her this would probably still be trapped in my drafts. Also this turned into something a little silly and a little fluffy, and i really hope you enjoy it!

You blinked at your laptop, squinting as you processed the ten thousand pictures that you had taken during national team practice trying to decide which ones you wanted to put out for the fans. 

It was always a balancing act, giving them little glimpses at training and not giving your major secrets away, but you had mastered it over the years. 

You bit your lip as you swiped past several pictures of your best friend (who you totally didn’t have a crush on). The shot was perfect, well almost. Her green eyes were shining, and her dimples were showing. The only problem you had was that the smile was directed at one Tobin Heath instead of you. 

You were so focused on picking out a picture of Christen that you didn’t notice you were no longer alone in the dining hall. Hell, you didn’t notice anything until two hands landed on your shoulders. 

“Hey,” Emily yelled directly in your ear, you jolted in your seat, nearly falling as Emily and Lindsey cackled. 

You held your hand over your chest, fighting a smile of your own. You might not like being scared, but at least they were having a good time. 

“What are you two up to down here?” 

“Trying to fight the boredom of a lazy day. What are you up to?” Lindsey laughed, settling down into the seat beside you, and leaning over to look at the photos displayed on your laptop. 

“Just editing stuff for tomorrow’s release,” You shrugged, clicking so the photos advanced forward. 

“that last video has the fans going crazy,” Emily mumbled, leaning over the back of the chair to get a better view of the screen, and smirking when she saw a string of pictures focused on a certain forward. 

“Hmm, I’m glad, but it’s you guys who did all the work, I just shot the camera,” You hummed shaking your head. The women were so charismatic and funny that most of it took almost no artistry on your part. You just had to aim and capture. They were the ones giving you golden content. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, you edited like 15 hours of footage into 8 minutes,” Lindsey snorted, and you blushed just a little. Most people didn’t realize how much time a single clip took to put together, so it was kinda nice to have the acknowledgment. 

“But I have a question,” Emily said, her head popping over your shoulder as you began to edit one of the clips from today. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just Tobin threading a ball through for Christen. 

“Yeah Sonnett?” You asked, tilting your head, your tongue trapped between your teeth as you decided where to cut the clip into the one before it. 

“Why does Christen always get more screen time when she’s in those leggings?” 

You froze, the flush moving up your cheeks all the way to your ears. You weren’t that obvious, were you? She just looked so good in those pants, you really couldn’t help yourself. It was for the fans after all… 

“She doesn’t. I just pick the cool shots and stuff,” You grumbled, crossing your arms and slumping in your seat. 

Lindsey’s eyes softened. “If you ever wanna talk about it, you know where to find us,”. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s my best friend and probably dating someone else anyway. I don’t stand a chance,” You mumbled, staring adamantly down at your twiddling fingers in your lap. 

You had known Christen since college, and you had had a crush on her for almost as long. Years ago you had been poised to make your move when one Tobin Heath entered the picture. She had all but swept Christen off her feet, and you knew you didn’t have a chance with the girl. Why would she want the shy camera girl when she could have one of the best players in the league. 

“Yeah, cause she totally doesn’t stare at you as much as you stare at her,” Emily snorted, patting your back. 

“I don’t stare…” You grumbled, pouting. 

“Whatever you say,” Lindsey cackled, a plan beginning to form. 

*****

Christen was not brooding. So she happened to be sitting in a corner, sipping on her beer watching you laugh with someone near the counter across the room from under her eyelashes. But that was not glowering, or even remotely stalkerish. Okay, but who WAS that that you were talking to, and why were they making you laugh so hard you almost choked on your drink?

“Hey Chris, nice view?” Tobin said, sliding into the seat next to Christen. 

“Peachy,” Christen said sarcastically, not looking away from where you were standing. Apparently, that girl you were talking to was interested in cameras, as you were currently showing her yours. Bitch.

“Hm, then why are you glaring at the nice rookie who is buying Y/n drinks?” 

“She’s a lightweight. If Sophia Smith buys her another one of those Long Island Iceteas then Y/n won’t be able to drive home,” Christen grumbled, sipping her beer. If Kelley could get you drunk with three margaritas, they were definitely in for it with the 3 long islands you had consumed. If only the rookie knew what a stupid move it was. 

“So she’ll order an uber.” Tobin shrugged with a smirk. Christen balked at the notion. You were a handful when drunk, and she wasn’t going to leave you alone in the hands of some poor college students. 

“Uber has unethical business practices.” She dismissed Tobin’s suggestion easily. 

“Maybe one of the Riveters will offer to take her then. Are you really going to sit here and pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re head over heels for our favorite photographer?”

Christen rolled her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to let you get in the car with one of your fans. No matter how supportive they were. 

“Maybe.” She pouted, crossing her arms. 

Tobin rolled her eyes at the reaction. God the two of you moved slower than Sloths. If you kept going at this rate you would be 70 by the time you finally got together. “So are you going to sit here and pout, or are you going to go get your girl?” 

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Trust me, she does,” Tobin snorted. Your crush was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, as was Christen’s on you. The team had bets about how long it would take the two of you to grow the balls to ask each other out (and who would do the asking). 

Christen held Tobin’s eyes for a second. Then she set her drink down on the table and walked over to where you were standing with Smith. You turned to look at her, your eyes taking a second to refocus before you recognized her. 

“PRESSIE!” You screeched, then ducked down and whispered “sorry, too loud.”

“How many of these have you had?” Christen said, casually taking the glass from your hand. 

“Just two- you know that two-drink Y/n has problems with volume control!” You said, laughing at your Brooklyn 99 reference as you stole your drink back and took a big swig. “Don’t worry, I’ll switch to water next.”

“Right. So are you having fun talking to Sophie?” Christen said, not sure how to start the conversation. 

“Oh, sophies nice! Like she’s so funny. She pretended to be interested in photography so I could talk about it since I didn’t know any of the television shows she was talking about. Apparently, I need to watch she-ra or something, but I just don’t have time. And I already promised to watch that thing with you. You know that period drama thing. And you’re nicer. And really pretty. And you give really good cuddles. Even if you always like the villain characters in movies best, like a weirdo.”

“Just because I said Tom Hiddleston was hot one time-”

“It’s Okay, Pressie. I acknowledge that you have a terrible taste in men, you bi disaster you, and that’s okay. I love you anyway. Boop” and with that, you tapped her on the nose. 

Christen rolled her eyes, “Okay, let’s get you home before you profess the rest of your love for the team,” 

“Hmm, don’t love the rest of the team. Just love you, even if you love Tobin more,” You sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder. 

Christen tensed. “What?” She asked. Her and Tobin were strictly friends, and anyone with eyes knew she was hung up on you. 

“I wanna date you, but you’re dating tobito. That makes me sad. She scooped you up before i could profess my undying love, ” You pouted, scrunching your eyebrows together. You meant to tell her after Standford beat North Carolina so many years ago, but they had lost and she had gone to congratulate Tobin. 

Christen shook her head. “I’m in love with you dumbass, not Tobin,” 

You sat up and blinked owlishly at her, suddenly more sober than you had been 20 seconds ago. “You are?”

She rolled her eyes at you, kissing your nose lightly. She wasn’t about to argue with you about who she was in love with while you were drunk off your ass. She would investigate more later, profess her love when you were both sober, and make up for all your lost time “Alright, i think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you home hot stuff,”

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Love: Part 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down? 

Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week. 

This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of. 

Banner by me. 

Monday: Pitch Meeting

           “Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.

          Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.

          Today, Claire decided, that would change.  She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.

          “We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.

           “I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.

           “Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”

           “Who are those people?”

           “Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”

           “What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.

           “My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”

           “Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”

           “I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.

           Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”

           “I just, I don’t think it’d be a –

           “Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.

           “Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.

           You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.

“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”

           “It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”

           “I do!” Claire chimed.

           “Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”

           “What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.

           “You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.

           “It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.

           “I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.

           Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.

          Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.

Monday: Your Office

           “Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.

           “You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.

           “How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.

           “Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

           Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.

           “I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”  

           “You can’t have one,”

           “Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”

           “I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.

           “Well, I need their handle,”

           “Fine,”

           “And the intern,” Claire was firm.

           You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”

           “Sure thing,” Alexis replied.

           “Thank you,”

           Claire rolled her eyes.

           “Jealous?” You questioned.

           “Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.

           “Great,”

           “I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.

           “Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.

           “If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”

           “Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.

           “Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.

           Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”

           “Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”

           “Okay,”

           “Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”

           “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –

           “I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”

           “Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.

Tuesday: Happy Hour

           “You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.

           “What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”

           “What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.

           “Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”

           Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”

           “You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”

           “Me?”

           “Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.

           “He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.

           “Potato, Tomato,”

           “You should talk-

           “Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.

           “Fine, fine.”

           “I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.

           “That’s a lie,”

           “Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.  

           “Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”

           “No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”

           “You should,” He suggested.

           “I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.

           “Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.

           “Bitchy?”

           “Your words, then she would like you,”

           “She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.

           “He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.

           “Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”

           “You said his name!” Hoseok argued.

           “He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”  

           Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”

           “If he’s not there,” You answered.

           “I can’t promise that,”

           “Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.

           Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.

           “Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.

           “I’ll think about it,” You resigned.

           “Great!”

           “I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.

           “I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.

           “At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

           “Well-

           “You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”

           “I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.

           “That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”

           “You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-

           “Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.

           “Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.

           Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”

           “I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.

           “Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”

           “Because I love you,”

           “Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.

           “I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.

Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office

           “Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.

           “You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.

           “Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.

           “So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.

           “Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.

           “And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.

           “Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.

           “Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.

           Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.

           “What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”

           “Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”

           “I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.

          Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.

           “Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”

          “What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.

          “In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.

           “No!”

           “Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.  

           “I would never,” You glowered.

           “You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.

          “I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”

          “Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.

          “Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”

          “July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.

          “I, I, no!”

          “October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”

          “He started it!”

          “Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.

          “I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.

          “Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.

          “Know what?”

          “About your vendetta,”

          “It’s not a vendetta!”

          “Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.

          “I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.

          “His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-

          “You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.

          “Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-

          “You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”

          “Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.

          “I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.

          “I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”

          You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.

          “You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.

          “We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.

          “You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.

          “It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.

          “This is entirely personal.”

          “Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.

          “No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.  

          “Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”

          “I take it back. I revoke my consent!”

          “It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”

          “Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.

          “You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.

          “Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.

          “Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.

          “You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.  

          “You agreed to-

          “No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.

          It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.

          “I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”

          Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.

          “Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.

          As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.

          “Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.

          “She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.

          “Did you?”

          “No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.

          “Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.

          “No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-

          “Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-

          “Until you what?”

          “Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.

          “She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”

          Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.

          “Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.

          “No, something weird is going on,”

          You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”

          “I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.

          “He makes me so-

“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.

          “I-

          “Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”

          “What if he-

          “Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.

          “Okay,”

          “I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.

          “Thank you,”

          “I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”

          “I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.

          “I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.

          Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.

          “To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.

          “I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.

          “Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.

          “You still live at the same place?”

          “No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”

          “You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.

          “What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.

          “I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”

          “I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.

          “Okay, see you soon, I guess,”

          “I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.  

Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2

[alirhi]

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

[dreamii-yume]

I'm not the anon who come up with this Singing curse Au but how about more content of it? When you get no ideal from hornii or soft, a bit of chaos shegnanigant will do the trick. Can you write more about that Au? Focus on some other writing helped me come up with the actual writing ideal I want to write, maybe Yume can try that....? 😳👉👈

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa said

“lol saw the random singing curse au. So how about instead of disney songs mc/darling sings meme songs? lol like if darling visits pomefiore she sings fashion, etc. so thoughts? and bonus points the curse was just a potions accident due to grim doing something wrong.”

•••••

Aight, I’ll take you on that advice Darling! I’ll write more about this AU, since I really find it funny just imagining them lol Cay-kun’s birthday is tomorrow anyways so, it’s fine if I slack off a bit, yeah~?

Meme songs, huh? Now, we’re talking in Yume’s language lol Beware of the cringe beyond this as this contains dead memes probably!

God, this is even funnier and more chaotic if it was Grim’s fault that got Darling in this mess in the first place. Aside from the embarrassment that you would inevitably suffer right after, this random singing curse of yours doesn’t seem to be too bad especially when you get to see the interesting reactions you get from others. Though, most of the times it’s just pure confusion on their faces as they don’t have a single clue on what the hell you’re singing, since it never existed in their world.

“SomeBODY once told me—“ Darling started, slamming a random door open with a wide smile on your face and successfully startling a few students half to death nearby. The Scarabia duo passing by and Kalim being obliviously glad at how energetic you seemed. Jamil had to look away as he snorted, seeing how the students cower away with tails between their legs was golden.

Ace and Deuce being used to Darling’s curse at this point that they basically just adapted to it. “Ah.” The rest of the first years wondered what was that single “Ah.” and Adeuce confirmingthat it was indeed considered a “song” from your world. You explained how it was uttered out by a certain 2D shark girl and people basically went crazy for it. “Yeah, we don’t get it either.” The duo gave up understanding your worlds’ “culture” eventually.

That said, the other students would be lying if they said that they don’t find this strange songs of yours catchy though.

“So, what kind of look do you wanna go for?” Imagine Vil in a good mood and decided to do Darling’s make up. You smile and said nothing, you can feel the urge to sing right on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know what ridiculous meme song would come out of your mouth. Opening your mouth meant breaking into a song once again as it might disrupt the guy’s mood. “Hm? What’s wrong? Honey, you look like you want to say something. Go ahead, I’m feeling nice today, you see.”

His kind chuckle did not help at all and alas, you slightly opened your mouth and— “Maybe I’ll be Tracer.” “What?” You gulped with a nervous grin. “...I’m already Tracer...”

It’s worse in Halloween. “Spooky, spooky skeletons~” The Heartslabyul students are looking at you funny, but since you were singing it in such a cutesy way, they just assumed that you wanted a candy in return. “Sends shivers down your spine~” Trey filled your whole bag.

I’d also like to add that the curse does not only affect the way you talk but it also plagues your mind as well. The others looks so concerned every time you space out as even if they call out to you as loud as they can, the noise in your head wouldn’t let you hear them. They claimed that you look so serious sometimes, like you’re thinking of something deep but in reality all you were hearing was the constant replay of the Wii Theme and Undertale Soundtracks.

“Se~ no~” Skipping in the hallways, Idia hides behind a wall as he was practically lead astay to this beat you sing. He just finds it so cute! The way you swing your hips really made him imagine you like those idols performing before thousands of fans like him. He wonders if you’ll accept if a creepy otaku like him asks you to wear an idol outfit and sang that song for him in private. Idia finds himself humming and dancing slightly to your song until Cater comes in and giving him a heart attack that costs him ten years of his lifespan.

You said you wanted to try and bake for everyone, so you thought it was better to borrow the Heartslabyul kitchen. “I’m a muffin, and this is muffin time~” Coincidentally, the Heartslabyul squad passed by at the door and thought that the melody sounded cute. Without you knowing, they were peaking right by the door. Cater recording a video while Ace snickers at how girly you can be sometimes with pink cheeks. Riddle, Trey, and Deuce having the same fantasy of seeing you as a housewife baking sweets for her family to munch on. “Who wants a muffin~?”

You did a graceful spin while elegantly putting the tray inside the oven, crouching over. “Please, I just wanna die~” Upon setting the desired temperature, you spun into a small little dance. Cater almost dropped his phone. “Hey, somebody kill me~”

“Please, it’s muffin time~☆”

Needless to say, the Heartslabyul squad bursts in like undercover agents and concerned questions were frantically asked. You wanted to bake, but got a strict therapy session with Riddle and Trey instead. Ace, Deuce, and Cater blocks your exit and you were forced to stay in that room for the next three hours.

Of course. Of course. Cursed or not, your immature ass could not pass up the opportunity.

“We’re no strangers to love.”

“Child of man, what—“

“You know the rules and so do I.”

Might as well commit to it the curse then.

WHVSJXBSKW Yume is such a bitch normie lol I really listed off all the meme songs I know and picked what I can do (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡ Sorry for the cringe and dead memes lol I had more memes I wanted to put in but the cringe might be too much

I had so much fun with this one, you were right Darling! This made my head grasp reality better~! Thanks! (๑>◡<๑)