#guess what “i want another divorce” is in reference to

[on-wednesdays-we-eat-the-rich]

relationship dynamics i like (can be romantic, platonic, or whatever the fuck you want!)

old lesbians

edgelord who never swears x ray of sunshine who swears like a sailor

Hawaiian shirt-wearer x goth

Hawaiian shirt-wearer x punk

Hawaiian shirt-wearer x goth x punk

built like a brick shithouse x could fit in their pocket

old lesbians who take the piss and bitch about everyone else (see also: genderswapped waldorf and statler from the muppets)

flamboyant villain x punching-bag sidekick

low-empathy unenthusiastic autistic x empathetic and excitable autistic

dad friend and older brother friend

the loveliest person you've ever met x grumpy old bastard (and they are madly in love with each other)

"oh my god i can't believe we're in love!" (affectionate) x "oh my god i can't believe we're in love." (derogatory)

old lesbians who do silly old lady things together like knitting clothes for their grandchildren and going to bingo

old lesbians who are trying to "relive their youth" so they do silly young lady things together, like going dancing and riding rollercoasters

old lesbians who commit crimes together. get caught graffitiing "janice <3 carol" on buildings at least once a week

"i want another divorce"

[slamminslamminmcgill]

hiiii uhhh joel drabble based on my daddy dick appointment yesterday

warning: rimming, intox (poppers and weed), oral, squirting, erectile dysfunction (real old man dick enjoyers know wassup), toys, overstimulation, daddy kink obvs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy, clit/cock/dick

It’s not that you had daddy issues.

Or that he had a framed picture of him and his daughter on the shelf.

Or a throw pillow with the word DAD sewn onto it, clutched against your chest as he messily ate you out on the leather sectional in his one bedroom apartment.

No, he was just hot. A hot older guy that hit you up on Grindr for the ol' smoke and poke, a quick hit of some blunt and cunt. That’s it. That’s all this was.

He was just a hot older guy, and nothing more.

Not a daddy.

The picture of his daughter was not staring you down while you blew him, much too rigorously for his liking.

“Easy, easy there, easy. Slow down, baby. I don’t wanna cum yet. Just- Just lick my balls for a little bit. Nice and slow, good boy.”

You did as he said, slithering your tongue across and smothering your face in his massive balls, trying and failing to fit even just one in your mouth. You did not want to think about how that girl in the picture frame was once swimming around in them.

And you definitely were not wondering if his daughter’s mother ever ate his ass out like this. With how tense he was, you figured probably not, but he opened up beautifully once you lubed up your fingers. Hell, he even took that buttplug like a champ.

“Oh, Jesus Christ… Ngh…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good… Just gotta… Mmm, just gotta get used to it, sweetness.”

Maybe his ex was kinky. Maybe she’d been the first one to touch his prostate. Or maybe it was his doctor just a couple weeks ago. Maybe it’d been revelation, divine knowledge bestowed to him while bent over on the exam table, and he’d been experimenting ever since, trying to make lightning strike twice.

You were not trying to guess whether he was divorced, a widower, or a cheater. Hopefully not the third, because nothing will kill an orgasm faster than a vengeful spouse and a loaded handgun. But hey, that’s not your problem. Not yet, at least, and hopefully not ever.

Just a hot older guy. Decades of experience, and it showed. He surely knew his way around a pussy, liquid proof dripping from his mustache. He knelt down in front of you once more, hoisted your legs onto his shoulders, and yanked your butt off the edge of the couch.

“Got the poppers, bud? Y’wanna hold ‘em up for me?”

You uncapped and held the small bottle to his nostril and watched him take a five second inhale, then a breath, and another five second inhale.

Fuck, he was hot.

You barely had time to bring the poppers to your own face before his went down. His tongue pressed and flicked, swirled and licked your fattened clit. Two long fingers shoved up your pussy, and one snuck up your ass, all three reaching much deeper than you could do yourself. They pumped in time with his mouth, at first. Steady, deliberate motions intended to open you up for something more. He rose to his feet, bringing your legs up with him, and feverishly pumped his half-hard cock. Brows knit in unwavering focus as he tried to get it all the way up.

“Shit… won’t stay up. Hol’ on. Where’s the damn…?”

He grabbed a rubber ring off the coffee table and slid it onto his cock, tugging his heavy balls through the loop. You watched, entranced, having no frame of reference for what that might feel like. You tried to imagine it on your own cock: a tight pinch, forcing all that blood into it, all that pressure. It sounded heavenly on its own, but to be fair, you had much less dick to fill. The ring seemed to be doing the trick for him, though. He finally got it up, poked it against your cunt, and shoved it in. No time to waste, and no time to adjust before he started coring you out on the couch.

For about three thrusts, and then he fell out.

“Son of a… Fuck it.”

In a fit of sexual frustration, he fell to his knees and plunged his face into your pussy once more. All tact and any shred of restraint he had left was gone. He was an animal, and devoured you as such. He sucked your tiny dick up into his mouth, tugging at it like he was trying to tear it off. The three fingers went back into your holes as if they'd never left, finding your sweet spots in a matter of seconds. He jackhammered them, forcing you to bear a ruthless, brutal onslaught of pleasure. The speed had your entire body shaking, even down to your voice.

"F-F-F-u-u-u-u-u-c-k-k, o-o-h-h-h-h, y-y-y-e-e-e-e-e-s-s-s..."

It sounded like you were moaning into a desk fan, the sobs of ecstasy being intercepted by his hand. His wrist did not falter, not for a moment. Not even when every jab of his fingers got him splashed with cum. Every. Jab. You honestly didn't even know you could physically squirt this much. Hell, you couldn't stop squirting. Not that you'd want to, but still. He just took it on the chin, quite literally, snarling with sadistic satisfaction as he drank it all down. When his thirst was finally quenched, he pulled back, his face glistening with your juices.

"Sorry I couldn't get hard, darlin'. I dunno if it was the poppers or the pot or what... Usually doesn't happen to me."

The fuck? The man sucks your soul out of your body, gives you an industrial-strength orgasm, and the first word out of his mouth is sorry? Your cunt was still buzzing a good 30 seconds after he stopped and he thinks to apologize? Is this guy for real? You shut that shit down right away.

"No, no, no, oh my god, you're... you're fine, don't worry... Shit... That was... You're fucking amazing... Thank you..."

"Aw, pleasure's all mine, sugarplum. You taste fuckin' incredible, y'know. I could-"

*RING*

"Shit, it's my daughter. I gotta take this."

Saying the quiet part out loud, it seems.

[muzaktomyears]

The man who was there the day the Beatles broke up

Mal Evans was the Fab Four’s roadie, fixer and friend. Paul McCartney confided in him when the band split, while John Lennon relied on him to guard his life. A new book tells his story

The Beatles’ lingering tensions finally caught up to them during a meeting among John, Paul and George at 3 Savile Row on September 10 1969. As Mal and Neil [Aspinall, who ran the Beatles’ company Apple Corps] observed, John took particular issue with what he perceived as Paul’s megalomania, saying that, “If you look back on the Beatles albums, good or bad or whatever you think of ’em, you’ll find that most times if anybody has got extra time it’s you! For no other reason than you worked it like that.” For Mal, the conversation must have been pure agony. He idolised Paul, who bore the brunt of the meeting’s vitriol.

In his own defence, Paul protested that he had “tried to allow space on albums for John’s songs, only to find that John hadn’t written any”.

With the idea of recording a new album seemingly off the table, John suggested that they produce a Christmas single instead. After all, he reasoned, their annual holiday fan club record would be due before long. When this idea was met with silence and indifference, John soberly concluded, “I guess that’s the end of the Beatles.”

As horrible as the experience must have been for Mal, panic hadn’t set in just yet. During the past 15 months, Ringo and George had quit the band at various times, only to be coaxed back. But ten days later it all spilled out again at a meeting at Apple. Mal and Allen Klein (their manager after the death of Brian Epstein) were there, along with Yoko, Neil and the boys. For his part, George was on speakerphone from Cheshire, where he was visiting his ailing mother. The topic at hand was a new agreement with Capitol, which Klein was understandably eager to ink.

As Mal observed, Paul began to enumerate the group’s upcoming opportunities, including a series of intimate gigs and a possible television special. In each instance, John said, “No, no, no,” before telling Paul, “Well, I think you’re daft.” Eventually, he blurted out that he wanted a “divorce”. “What do you mean?” a stunned Paul asked. “The group’s over,” John replied. “I’m leaving.”

At this point, Paul recalled, “Everyone blanched except John, who coloured a little, and said, ‘It’s rather exciting. It’s like I remember telling Cynthia I wanted a divorce.’ ”

Afterwards, Mal and Paul returned to McCartney’s home, where they retreated to the garden, still trying to process what had transpired. Paul remained hopeful that John might change his mind, that the Beatles would continue unabated. But Mal knew better. As with George, Mal had reasoned that “all of them had left the group at one time or another, starting with Ringo’’. But when “John came into the office and said, ‘The marriage is over! I want a divorce,’ that was the final thing. That’s what really got to Paul, you know, because I took Paul home and I ended up in the garden crying my eyes out.”

That night with Lennon and Phil Spector in 1973, when happiness was not a warm gun

Mal took great pleasure in spending long hours in John’s company, enjoying the Beatle’s undivided attention, as opposed to sharing him with Paul, George and Ringo. “It was fascinating,” said Mal, who by this point was living in LA and writing his own songs, “because John was talking to me like I was a songwriter, and that was incredible. For the first time, John and I really communicated, whereas, when it was the four of them, John was always the hardest to talk to. I always thought that when John stopped insulting me, we had fallen out as friends.” But, he added, referring to John’s teasing, “The more he likes you, the more he takes the mickey out of you.”

Yet, as Mal soon discovered, working with John during this period would prove to be a chore — incomparable, in fact, to their touring years together, when the Beatles were often confined to the relative safety of a hotel suite. When he was in LA, John could often be found at the Sunset Strip’s Rainbow Bar and Grill, which had emerged as his de facto headquarters [during a period of heavy drinking which Lennon ironically referred to as the Lost Weekend but actually lasted 18 months.] With musicians like John, Harry (Nilsson), Ringo, Keith Moon, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz adopting the Rainbow as their regular watering hole, they had taken to calling themselves the Hollywood Vampires, a nickname that evoked the night hours they spent guzzling hooch in the bar’s loft space.

On one of his most harrowing evenings in Los Angeles, Mal had accompanied John and Phil Spector to the Rainbow. At one point, John walked Phil to his car, assuring Mal that he would return shortly. “About a half hour goes by, and I start worrying and go outside looking for John — no sign,” Mal later wrote. “I’d lost track of a Beatle for a day. What had happened, I found out the following evening, was that when he’d seen Phil off, a few hippie fans of his took him in tow, and John, who had just moved into a flat, couldn’t remember the address, nor his or my phone numbers. [John] eventually turn[ed] up, but not before I’d had a few irate words from Yoko, who phoned me from New York shouting, ‘I thought you were John’s bodyguard — why don’t you guard his body?’ ”

At a loss for words, Mal admitted that “I never really thought of myself as a bodyguard to anybody, but I suppose over the years that had been part of the gig. Anyway, they were all grown up, with very strong minds of their own as to what they wanted to do, and I certainly didn’t expect them to hold themselves accountable to me.”

That December, as work on Back to Mono proceeded, John and Phil shifted their project to the Record Plant West. The change of recording studios had everything to do with John’s and Phil’s antics having gotten them evicted from their previous studio, A&M. At one point, Nilsson and Moon, in a drunken stupor, had urinated onto the recording console, leaving the electronics in an ungodly mess.

Things began innocently enough after John and Phil completed their December 11 session at the Record Plant West, where they took a pass at Chuck Berry’s You Can’t Catch Me. As Mal looked on, the two men, drunk to the gills, were horsing around the Las Vegas Room. In a nod to the early days of Beatlemania when the Beatles would climb on Mal when they heard they were at the top of the charts, John decided to hop onto Mal’s back for a piggyback ride. Unfortunately, Phil opted to get in on the act, too. Mal’s physical dexterity in late 1973 was a far cry from that of the early 1960s, and he had difficulty sustaining the weight of two men atop his aching back. As always, Mal observed, “Phil goes a little too far,” and in the ensuing ruckus, “he karate-chopped me on the nose, my spectacles went flying, and I got tears in my eyes I can tell you. I turned around with a real temper and told Phil, ‘Don’t ever lay another finger on me, man.’ ”

And that’s when Phil, “maybe to re-establish himself in his own eyes”, Mal thought, pulled out a handgun. To the roadie’s surprise, the producer “fired it off under our noses, deafening us both, the bullet ricocheting around the room and landing between my feet”.

John was understandably incensed, exclaiming to Phil, “If you’re gonna kill me, kill me, but don’t take away my hearing — it’s me living!”

Until that moment, Mal and John had believed that Spector’s handgun was a toy. At one point earlier in the evening, Phil had cocked the trigger and aimed the weapon at John’s head. As a result of the incident in the Las Vegas Room, “John’s fear of guns generally was doubled.” For his part, Mal vowed to stay clear of Phil. He would attend the recording sessions in deference to John, but that was it.

In nearly the same instant that Mal decided to banish Phil from his world forever, he and John were hustled off to [co-founder of the Record Plant] Gary Kellgren’s house for a lavish going-away party in honour of Mal, who was preparing to make his return to Sunbury. For the occasion, Phil had arranged for Mal to receive “a beautiful large cake, which must have measured four feet by three feet, so nicely decorated with a large bottle of Napoleon brandy, [and] a lot of comic figures like Superman and Batman,” Mal wrote. The sumptuous dessert was inscribed, “To Mal, my pal, love, Philip.”

As it turned out, the madcap producer’s greatest gift to Mal that night came in the form of his absence. “Phil, to show the most understanding side of his nature, did not come to the party,” said Mal. “He knew if he had, he’d be outrageous and spoil it for me. But he set it up and didn’t come — a true mark of affection from a friend.”

The party came to a sudden close, though, when John, having grown blind drunk, planted a telephone into the sticky remains of the cake.

Meet the Beatles: four days in Mal’s life with the moptops

Paul (1962) In July 1962, Mal and his family attended the celebration of the “Wavertree Mystery”, an annual event held to commemorate the anonymous donation of a local playground back in 1895. Mal later recalled that, “Lil and I were proudly pushing Gary in his pram when she turned to me and said, ‘There’s a weird guy over there — keeps staring at us. Now he looks like a real Cavernite to me.’ On turning, I was to see Paul standing there, unshaven, with a denim jacket thrown over his shoulder and chewing on a toffee apple.” After engaging in the niceties of introducing his wife to the scruffy musician, Mal took Paul for a jaunt. “We spent the rest of the day together,” Mal wrote, “Paul and I daring each other to go on things like the parachute drop and other displays that took nerve, neither of us accepting the challenge.” At one point, they stopped in front of an automobile exhibition. Paul announced to Mal that “one of these days I’m going to own one of those cars’’, pointing to one very humble saloon-type car.

George (1962) After shows at the Cavern, Mal would introduce his wife Lily to the rest of the band. “On one occasion,” Mal recalled, “Lil and I bought the fish and chips for the group and ourselves, as they could only muster enough money between them to pay for the teas.” Although she had her misgivings about Mal’s involvement in their lives, she enjoyed getting to know the bandmates. “After gigs,” she later recalled, “George would come back to our house for bacon and eggs. He sometimes came back before Mal to keep me company. I’d be washing baby clothes and nappies or ironing. I liked him the best.” Lily fondly remembered the time she pushed the bangs from Harrison’s face, saying, “Let’s see what it looks like with your hair back. I like that better.” But George wasn’t having it. He combed his hair forward, telling her, “That’s the way I have to wear it; it’s the Beatle cut.”

Ringo (1965) Driving up the M1, Mal and Ringo stopped at a roadside café for lunch. “We were sitting at the counter,” Mal recalled, “and the chap next to me had obviously been trying to make up his mind whether it really was Ringo with me. Suddenly, he turned to me and said, ‘I don’t care if it is him or not.’ Ringo nearly choked with laughter as I teased the fellow, saying, ‘No, it’s not him. But it gets terribly embarrassing taking him anywhere because everybody mistakes him for Ringo!’”

John (1964) John held no illusions about the Beatles’ behaviour, later admitting that, “We were bastards. You can’t be anything else in such a pressurised situation, and we took it out on Neil and Mal. They took a lot of shit from us because we were in such a shitty position. It was hard work and somebody had to take it. Those things are left out, about what bastards we were. F***ing big bastards, that’s what the Beatles were. You have to be a bastard to make it, and that’s a fact. And the Beatles were the biggest bastards on earth. We were the Caesars. Who’s going to knock us when there’s a million pounds to be made, all the handouts, the bribery, the police, and the hype?”

During a flight to Massachusetts for the September 12 show at the Boston Garden, Mal’s long-standing feelings of intimidation around John came to a head. Sitting at the rear of the plane, he broke down in tears, telling a reporter that “John got kind of cross with me — just said I should go f*** off. No reason, ya know. But I love the man. John is a powerful force. Sometimes he’s rough, if you know what I mean, man. But there’s no greater person that I know.” In many ways, it was as if Mal’s lack of self-confidence, a key aspect of his persona for the balance of his life, had returned with a vengeance. Later John approached Mal and embraced him.

Extracted from Living the Beatles Legend by Kenneth Womack (Mudlark £25), published on November 14.

(source)

[sussusamogus47]

I just wanted to call to attention the board games in the final puzzle room, bc I haven't really seen anyone talk about them all that much.

I genuinely can't tell if they were all deliberately chosen for what they are, or if instead it was a case of what the set designers (of Genloss, not Showfall) could get their hands on, but the relative obscurity/odd choice of games makes me think that for the most part it was deliberate.

Lemme explain, starting with the most interesting one first.

Game One: My 2 Homes

This game is most notable because it's the one boardgame that Ranboo actually calls out by name, and one of two (if i remember right) that they ever interact with. What's clever though is how it could easily be written off -- Jerma asks the three of them for examples of things in the room, and he provides one. End of story right?

But consider first that the mind control over them has been getting stronger and stronger, and the past few rooms we've been seeing them become more NPC-like, interacting with things less and less, taking less of an interest in other things.

What makes it more interesting in my opinion though, is the fact that the game is meant to help children "communicate and process their feelings about divorce".

What does this mean though?

Well, looking at the verb definitions of divorce, there's two ways it can be taken:

You could make an argument for the first definition, sure. But just look at that second definition. Separate or dissociate something from something else. Aka Ranboo and reality.

Suddenly Ranboo's calling out of the game looks more like a call for help. To use the game for its intended purpose and say "I'm still here, please help me. I don't want this to continue."

I could be stretching here. But the subtly of it is really good, and imo wouldn't be out of place.

Game Two: Maul of America

The pun in this one is actually what made me notice the oddity of some of the choices of these board games. For those who mightn't know, the Mall of America is one of the largest malls in the United States.

The premise of this game is simple: You're in a mall during the zombie apocalypse, and have to fight your way out. One player controls all of the zombies, and each other player controls themselves, obviously.

The parallels here alone are honestly astounding lol

But wait, there's more!! Upon rewatching this entire section, I believe this is the only other board game that Ranboo ever interacts with. Even more interestingly, I believe this might be the only game in the room that has its pieces outside of the box and partially set up.

For reference:

Here's an image of the board + some of the pieces, courtesy of boardgamegeek.com

And here's the closest, best shot I could get of the board:

Notice the standing pieces, the flipped over ones, and their positions relative to one another. Red is flipped, blue and orange are standing up. One zombie is standing, the rest are flipped. Blue is by red, and orange is by a zombie.

Now I'm sure you know, but for Dramatic Effect ™ I'd like to point out the primary colours of each person's outfit in this room:

Red

Blue

Orange

So then, Ranboo, Sneeg, and Austin are obviously intended to be the players here, with either Showfall (or the founder) controlling the zombies. Sneeg's blue token is likely closer to Ran's red one to indicate that they know each other, which supports some of the other theories around that.

But then why's Ranboo's token flipped? And what's with the zombie?

Well this is where we pull into Speculation Station, because I'm honestly not too sure. I'd like to say that the flipped token indicates Ranboo's mind controlled state, but then why isn't Sneeg's flipped too? After all, we all saw him get forcefully controlled by the Showfall Crew. My only other guess is that it hints at the ending, where somehow Austin and Sneeg survive and escape Showfall where Ranboo doesn't, but I feel like that's shaky at best so idrk.

Similar problems occur with the zombie, too. You could say it's Ranboo being mind controlled by the zombie player, but then Sneeg should have one too if that's the case. It can't really be Jerma bc he's well, dead by this point. It could maybe be the camera operator? But we also see the rats behind the curtain so wouldn't they have one too?

I really don't know honestly. But I've been going on about this one for a while lol so I should probably move on.

Game Three: Anti-Monopoly

This one is basically what it says on the tin: Anti-Monopoly, or a trust busting game where players have to go around dismantling large corporations. Depending on the size of the company, (oligopoly, trust, or monopoly) you need one to three tokens respectively to take them down.

I'd imagine that Showfall is a pretty large corporation, so my guess is that the symbolism here is meant to be Hetch's (or even Ranboo's) intention to dismantle the company. If the former, it could maybe mean that Hetch isn't here to actually help Ranboo, but is instead using him for in order to dismantle Showfall, which would be a twist for sure.

Game Four: Twister Moves

This seems like a version of Twister with maybe a musical chair-esque aspect to it. Someone plays as the DJ and plays music, and calls out moves to the other players.

If I had to guess, this is meant to symbolize Showfall's control over people, and how they tell them what to do.

Miscellaneous Games

These ones I don't really have much (or anything) for, honestly. I'm mostly putting them here in case anyone has any ideas, or in case they're somehow relevant.

I also have to stop adding images unfortunately bc I've hit the app's limit :(

Battleground: Crossbows and Catapults

Interestingly enough I had this as a kid lol. Used to play with just the lil plastic castles and guys a lot, not really playing the game. Anyway, the premise is you use the rubber-band powered disc launchers on top of the castles to knock down the other team's guys. Apparently hitting their flag gets you bonus lives or something, so maybe that's relevant?

Star Wars 100 Piece Puzzle (1996)

I.. actually really doubt this one's relevant. It seems a bit too mainstream for it to be, and it's also a puzzle. The date could maybe be relevant? Piece count? Or somehow the characters on it (Luke, Leia, Vader) are, but I just can't think of anything that'd work here, so my best guess is it's a red herring.

Classico (??)

I literally couldn't find anything on this one that matched the box, so I'm at a total loss.

Closing Remarks

Well, I hope that was all comprehendable :D I spent the past two hours or so putting it all together, and honestly in the process of doing so found wayy more to it than I initially thought.

And with that, I bid you adieu!

[hopplessilse]

Instagram search

Insta!Joel x Fem! reader

Serie Masterlist

Summary: Your life is so routine that there is nothing that makes you want to continue. The universe is with you and illuminates you with a profile that catches your eye. Just press the follow button and your life takes a turn. (no outbreak, no use of y/n).

Rating: 18+explicit (minors dni)

Words count: 2.8k

Warnings: age difference (Joel in late 40's, reader in early 20's), reader is virgin, flirting, f! masturbation, lonely/jelousy thoughts, need for attention/validation masculine, divorced parents.

You were lying on your bed, after a shower you felt calm and clean. There was background music in your room, through a small speaker that was on your dresser, you were on your cell phone scrolling through Instagram posts. Normally you spent your time reading on some social network or sometimes you gave yourself the chance to read the books that rest on your furniture.

Your life had become so routine, you felt it simple, there was no spark of emotion, there was nothing that made you want to be another day, you lived the days without any change, the only thing that made your routine different was doing activities that you liked , like your hobbies, that you stopped doing for a while until you felt motivated to do them.

You had started to write, something you had wanted to do since you started reading since you were 12 years old, but like everything, you only wrote when you had the inspiration to do it, you didn't like writing for the sake of writing, you wanted a story that was good, that could transmit something like those you've read before, that make your skin crawl, your body tense by the character's words, shed the occasional tear of happiness, sadness or anguish.

You kept scrolling until you found a photo that seemed to be a landscape, you clicked on the publication and smiled when you saw the photo, it was a landscape in the forest, the pines and trees outlined the banks of the river, rocks in the middle of it where small waves formed and passed over them, the sun with the morning light, so warm and golden that it reflected so beautifully in the river. You scrolled to the second photo where the same landscape was there, but this time a man was in the photo, he was sitting on a rock in front of the river, his back was to the camera. It was a very beautiful photo.

You decided to enter the profile, Joel Miller, read in his biography and under it it read 'contractor'and under this 'proud dad', looking at the profile you realized that he did not have many photos, there were only 5 publications, one of them referring to his work , another one was made of carved wood, another of a guitar and there was another one that caught your attention more, a polaroid, where you could see a young girl kissing on the cheek who you thought was the same man of the photo of the river, when you read the description it had the caption 'I love you girl' you smiled when you read that, you assumed at that moment that that girl was his daughter, if not more.

He looked old, you guessed he was about thirty or forty-something. You found it attractive, the photo didn't look great but you could see that it was, he had a beard, a bit, short hair, you didn't know what color it was since the photo had a purple color, one eye was half open while the other was closed . You didn't think much and hit the follow button, you weren't planning to do anything, you just found it interesting, you hadn't seen anyone his age have an Instagram, not even your favorite actors had, curiosity won you over. You just left Instagram and left your cell phone on your nightstand, a long sigh left your lips.

You woke up when you heard noise on the ground floor, when you opened your eyes you closed them with a slam since the sun was hitting your face directly, you turned around and saw the time on the clock that rested on your nightstand next to your cell phone, it was 11:14 in the morning, you sighed and got up.

You knew that your mom was going to blame you for that

You showered and got ready, you couldn't stop thinking that tomorrow you would go back to university. All vacations you had a terrible schedule that you did not know how the hell you were going to wake up at 5:00 am, although you do not regret it, those nights reading helped you survive the boring summer you had.

When you went downstairs you saw your mom at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

"Until you wake up" she said looking at you out of the corner of his eye while drinking his coffee

"sorry" you looked at her resting your hands on the edges of the chair "is there something for breakfast?"

"No, I'm waiting for you to accompany me to the market to buy"

"Mom" you complained while you were going to put on your shoes

“you know how this is”

"Why doesn't Louis come with you?" your voice sounded at the bottom of the stairs while you were already going down with your shoes on "he never accompanies you"

"Because he doesn't like it" she got up and put her cup in the sink "let me go for the money" she disappeared up the stairs.

We were in the meat section, my mom was going to buy some wings, ground beef and ribs, to have at home. What my mom said was true, I like coming to the supermarket, I honestly enjoy doing things for ladies, it relaxes me a lot and I enjoy it and even more if it's with my mom.

"Have you already told your father to pay the re-enrollment fee for the university?" my mom told me while looking at tomato sauces

"Yeah, I told you a few days ago"

"You'd better remember him, since he forgets everything"

"yep, when I get home I'll send him a message"

You turned around just to look at the section in front and you noticed that a man was looking at you, and not in the best way, honestly it disgusted you.

"You already have everything for school" your mom told you, leaving a sauce in the cart

"I'm just missing the folder"

"let's choose one then"

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

"Wash your hands so you can help me with the food!" your mom screamed from the ground floor

“yes mom!” you yelled back walking into your room

You were already used to wearing socks at home, or failing that, wearing flip-flops or slippers. You took off your shoes, throwing them somewhere in your room, you looked at your cell phone on your nightstand and suddenly you remembered….

Shit!

You quickly grabbed your phone and sat on your bed unlocking it, you saw that you had messages and notifications from various applications, but you saw you had only 1 from Instagram.

Joel Miller has followed you back

"Aaah!!!" you couldn't help but scream with emotion covering your mouth at the end to silence your screams

"OMG, don't fuck with me" you whispered to yourself

Your door opened suddenly, in the frame holding the door lock was your brother.

"why are you screaming?"

"For nothing that interests you" you said raising your eyebrows at the pair

You saw him disappear without letting out a snort on his part, you just looked at your cell phone smiling at the notification, you didn't know why a random man was making you smile so much... well, he was very attractive, older and when you saw the ones he was following, you knew that He was not the type to follow anyone he saw, you assumed that you were an exception, an exception that perhaps caught his attention like he did to you.

You went down with your cell phone in hand and a smile from ear to ear, you had your day made with just that notification and knowing that he would see all the things you upload from now on.

You helped your mother to prepare the food, you made a pasta with ground beef and cheddar cheese, take your cell phone and take a photo to upload it to the story, your mother called your brother to come down to eat. While you were at the table, your mom and your brother were talking about college and their plans after graduation, you just listened to the conversation and said a few things to give your opinion.

You couldn't believe that he was already going to graduate, after so many years studying, and you...entering your third year of university, you still had a long way to go since your degree was 9 semesters, 4 and a half years of degree,you could not wait for the time to graduate, but you had no idea what path you would take in your professional life.

When you finished, you left your plate in the sink and went to your room to prepare your supplies for the university, which consisted of a folder, your case, a small bag where you had feminine hygiene items, disinfectant gel, your balm, some garters for hair and a mirror.

At the end you couldn't help but take your cell phone and look at the views of your story. Some of your followers gave it a heart, but the person you were waiting for had only seen it, no reaction or response.

What did you expect, you moron, he was going to answer a story about a pasta! (you said to yourself mentally)

"I need a soda" you said to yourself

You went back down to the kitchen, poured yourself a glass of coke, and the front door rang.

"I'm going" you went to the door, when you opened it you found your dad smiling

"daughter" he greet you while hugging you

"dad" you hugged him back

"and your mom" came in and sat in the living room

Every time someone invokes her, it doesn't take long for her to appear

"What happened" your mom came out of the hallway to sit across from your dad in the living room

"I have to talk to you"

"Don't tell me you won't be able to pay your daughter's tuition" my mom said angrily

"No" he said irritated "it's something else your children should know too" he looked at your mother more seriously

it couldn't be anything good, every time they talk they always end up fighting, whatever you know won't end well

"speak" she sighed and your brother appeared on the stairs standing still

I'll spare you the details.

Basically in short, my dad will have a child… yes, with someone else. what a fuck

My parents have been separated since I was 8 years old, for as long as I can remember and as far as I can remember, they have always fought, they have not been able to have a calm conversation, only long after they divorced. The arguments always had another person involved, or they complained about how they were with each other and their attitudes. I honestly don't remember a time when my dad was affectionate with my mom or she with him.

They have always put us first, they separated because theirs was no longer working and they were not going to drag their children into it, although I was left with some traumas. It took a long time to know what my dad was like, I always had a good image of him, I love him because he is a good dad, maybe like a husband never was.

Anyway, the obvious news didn't sit well with me, or with my brother. My mom just limited herself to giving him advice, obviously she didn't care how much he did in his private life but they knew they could count on each other.

He stayed until it started to get dark, we spent the afternoon talking, many topics came up.

When I finished dinner my dad left, I got ready to go to my room and take a bath.

Whenever I took a bath I put on music, relaxed and had a good time in the shower. When I left I did my daily skin care routine, I put on combing cream, I put on cream and brushed my teeth. For this it was already 9:25 pm I wasn't sleepy at all, so I only watched videos to make me sleepy.

You won't believe me but… I can't sleep

It was already 11 o'clock and I couldn't fall asleep, and above all this I couldn't stop thinking that my dad would be a dad again, with another woman. A woman I knew a long time ago, but that's another story.

I couldn't stop thinking that i would no longer be his little daughter, the one who was always attached to him, now there would be another person who would take up space in his heart, I'm jealous that's the truth, jealous of someone who hasn't even been born. My dad is the only masculine energy that gives me attention, the only man I like to hug, the only one I laugh with non-stop.

Fuck this.

You grabbed your phone and went to Instagram, you didn't think twice and looked up Joel's profile, you hit the message button and without hesitation you started writing.

Hi :)

You hit send and your heart began to jump with nerves, it's done, you've sent a message to the beautiful man who could probably make your days different.

Your cell phone vibrated in your hand, you quickly saw the message

Hey

The truth is that you thought he was not going to answer you.

How are you?

You bit your lip from nerves, what the fuck am i supposed to talk to him. You saw the bubble appear and then the message appeared

Not so bad, how' s your night darlin?

It's a joke! He call me darlin.

You felt your cheeks burn and you couldn't help but smile

Not as good as I'd like, but I'm better now

Problems with boys?

No, rather the correct word would be dad

Oh sorry honey I guess dads ain't easy

Not at all, hey..

What's up

I really liked your photo of the river, it looks like a beautiful place

Thank you, if it is

where are you from, sweetheart?

from austin

And you've never gone further?

No

It's too bad, you should go, someone should take you

Was it being offered?

Could you be the one to take me, I mean, since you've already been to that place

how old are you sweetheart?

21

Shit you're so young

Can't you with that?

A little laugh left your lips

HA you don't know what you're saying honey

You bit your lip as you felt a chill run down your legs, you were thinking about what to write until another message appeared on the screen

I'm too old for you

Shit! Shit! Shit! As much as I like to hear that, the memory of being a virgin invades me more and more frustrating me. But…he shouldn't know, not for now

How old?

27 years older, do you think you can handle that?

Yes, you can teach me some things

Your hand went to the edge of your pajama shorts, slowly inserting your hand.

Yeah…what kind of things honey

You were going to answer when your door suddenly opened making you jump and take your hands out of your shorts. again it was your brother

"you scared me idiot" you put both hands on your chest and the cell phone under them

"what are you doing?" he said as he entered the room and looked at himself in the mirror

"nothing" you stared at him

"you know there's a mirror in the bathroom, right?"

“your room has better light, and the mirror is bigger”

He always did that, he always entered your room as if it were his, without warning, without asking, nothing. But when you entered his he would question you and get angry.

You threw a stuffed animal at him and he turned around with a frown

"Can you leave please" you said through your teeth

"How heavy you are" was the last thing he said before leaving and closing your door

You looked at the last message Joel had sent you, you didn't know what to reply, you didn't know whether to say daring things, act submissive, be more shy or just change the subject.

Hey, I have to go to sleep, tomorrow I'm going to the university

You were afraid for some reason for his answer

Sure darlin, don't worry, rest

Good night

You waited for him to send you another message but he didn't. I knew it wasn't a good idea to cut it like that.

You were in need of male attention, the little he gave you made you put your hands in your panties, you touched yourself again and oh surprise, you were wet.

You didn't like having to suffer, you didn't like being left wanting, so you did what you do best, you touch yourself. You tried to stay as quiet as possible since your brother's room was next to yours, you started soft but you couldn't stop thinking about Joel, how handsome he looked in the photo, you imagined how good he would be to you, telling you sweetheart, you thought if he would make you cum faster than you did yourself.

His hands around your hips, your breasts, your neck, your mouth silencing your moans. How would his fingers be, thin, long or thick. How his arms would feel around you, his hair around them, how strong they were, his veins….

"Shit," you breathed out, closing your lip tight.

You let out little whimpers, some of them stuck in your throat so as not to make so much noise, you were so close, just imagining it finished you, you threw your head back, squeezing the pillows under it while your hips arched from friction.

I need him to fuck me urgently.

I think in the end, they were right, we virgins are dirtier.

[neonscandal]

something I wanted to understand, the author said that satoru was quite a womanizer, but then he said that geto was much more popular among women than satoru I didn't understand

Technically, the author said that they didn't see Gojo being faithful to one or a certain woman not that he was a womanizer.

With what we know about Gojo (and Gege Akutami's trolling ways, for that matter), I think that's up for interpretation.

FAN INTERPRETATION

Fans really took that sentiment and kind of ran with it because, to us, Gojo is high spec in every way. Canonically good looking, tall, competent at like.. everything according to Akutami, strong and presumably loaded. Of course someone like that would be a womanizer, right?

Except Gojo is an oversized child who still kinda refers to Digimon in conversation and primarily hangs out with 16 year olds. People project a lot of their BS onto him because they can't imagine ticking all those boxes and not being an asshole. But he’s a corny dork who is seemingly impervious to the outright disdain of most of the people around him. IT’S COMICAL. Personally, I think this interpretation is incorrect, demonstrably.

The other side of the fandom is naturally like... well of course he couldn't stay faithful to one woman. He's been faithful to Geto for ten years! I think we know what camp I've pitched my tent in *gestures vaguely to the rest of my blog* Especially when you bear in mind that Gege Akutami specifically designed Gojo and Geto to be intrinsic complements of one another.

CANON

I'm not so SatoSugu addled (once the brain rot sets in, it's terminal) that I am unable to disclose the secret third way we can interpret this. Canonically, when we look at Gojo as a character... it almost makes sense to assume he's simply not interested in dating at all.

Empirically finds it hard to relate to others

Even when he does care for others, he's still emotionally shallow and aware of it

Gojo clan leader with all associated unpleasantries and responsibilities from a young age

Single benefactor to two children; assumes direct responsibility over two more by staving off their execution

First line of defense for all of jujutsu society

Has a grand design of toppling said jujutsu society

Has experienced devastating loss which informs the grand design of his life's mission and he's always plotting, even when it comes to the seemingly altruistic act of "adopting" the Fushiguro kids or pressing Yuta and Yuji to learn under his care. When you consider that context, it furthers the idea that he's pretty divorced from emotion. Like, he wants them to have a childhood but its still at the pleasure of his convenience and ultimate purpose.

LOOK at this gorgeous, gorgeous boy from pop layer art because I need it and, when I covet, you must also covet. Edit: I'd accidently copied the wrong link there! It's been fixed 💙

In universe, we've seen maybe two canonical couples: Yuta & Rika and Hakari & Kirara (to be animated). This supports the fact that Gege's not really concerned with injecting "romance" into the plot unnecessarily. Undeniably and supporting the SatoSugu agenda, however, is the fact that JJK 0 very much aligned Gojo & Geto with Yuta & Rika with the theme coming to a head in season 2 with Gojo's sealment. For clarity, I mean how love ultimately cursed Rika and Geto after death by Yuta's begging her not to leave and Gojo not properly disposing of Geto's body. Love turned Rika into a curse and allowed Kenjaku to swoop in on Geto.

GETO'S POPULARITY

Geto is, quite literally, popular with everyone in universe and that was before he became a cult leader... which also indicates a predilection for popularity, I guess? As a character, he is principled, thoughtful, gentle and strong. I think, collectively, we tend to toil over the fact that Gojo spent more time missing Geto than he actually knew him. But... that's the same for Shoko and Nanami. After Geto's defection, Nanami couldn't forsake him even if he morally couldn't approve of his actions. Over ten years later as the night parade of a hundred demons is set to take place, Yaga starts saying something along the lines of finally getting rid of the scourge that is Suguru Geto and Shoko makes it a point to leave. I think it's because, after everything, she still holds affection and pity for Geto and would rather not hear him being bad-mouthed for breaking under the pressure of things.

He was the best of them, after all.

[sarcastic--metaphor]

What does simon think of bonnibel?

I could answer that plainly, but I thought I'd attach an excerpt from my Vampire!Simon AU that deals with exactly this! It's pretty divorced from the overarching narrative so I guess it could be considered a one shot set within my AU or a prequel maybe.

Forgive me for any typos or bad pacing, I started writing at 3 am. This is very much also a rough draft that I'd like to clean up before posting to Ao3, but this is really exciting for me to share :)

(There’s also one small reference to the special vampire power I chose for Simon)

Word count: 2460

+++

The Star heard Temperance coming, she could tell by the click of his heels against the floor. She never understood why he refused to use his power of levitation, but she loved him all the same for his funny habits. 

As it was, she was rather bored. Dad was commanding the minions from his throne, commanding them to push their territory outward to search for more food. 

“Hey, Temperance,” The Star said, drifting away from her dad to follow after Temperance. He was wearing his long-tailed coat today, as well as his polished leather boots. 

He smiled at her and tucked a lock of white hair behind his ear. The Star used to wear her hair long as well, but she’d taken to keeping it short in recent decades. But her Temperance was always a bit old fashioned, keeping the same long hair all these centuries. His neat braid reached the end of his coat tails, brushing against the back of his knees. 

She took his braid and swept it over his shoulder. She asked, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just out for a walk,” he said. 

The Star’s eyes brightened. “Do you want me to come with you?”

The hive was fine and all, but she was itching to stretch her legs. Metaphorically speaking, that was. She preferred floating, but it would be nice to spend some time away from Dad and the minions. 

“Ah,” Temperance said, holding up his hands, “No, you don’t have to come with me, that’s alright.”

Her face fell. Then she popped her lips. 

“Oh, is this one of your thinking walks?”

Temperance nodded. “Yes, exactly! You wouldn’t want to hear an old man talking to himself, trust me.”

The Star laughed and let go of his braid. “I would if it was you.”

Temperance liked his long walks, he claimed he used the time to mulling over questions of philosophy or history. Or to talk himself through the next steps in taking care of his garden. 

She’d still like going with him, but knew Temperance had a fondness for his alone time. 

“If you’re leaving the hive,” another voice said, “Then you must take a guard.”

They both turned toward the king. He regarded them both with those bright eyes. 

Temperance made a short sigh under his breath. “I won’t be gone long.”

“I don’t care,” Dad said. “Take some drones or take The Star. Either way, I don’t want you out there alone.”

For a second, she really did think Temperance would choose her. She couldn’t remember the last time they had a few hours away from everything else. And The Star knew he missed her company, too.

“I’ll take the minions,” Temperance said, voice calm and clipped. 

Dad gestured to the three nearest vampires and they approached Temperance, stopping at a respectful difference. 

Temperance touched The Star’s arm and smiled. “I’ll see you later. Go help your father with his plans.”

She rolled her eyes and blew her bangs out of her face. “Alright, alright.”

He smiled one last time, then he was gone. 

+++

Simon tried to resist the instinct to levitate as much as possible. He had to remind himself that with his eternal life, wandering the land on his own two feet was no longer a taxing, unending endeavor. It wasn’t like those years after the apocalypse began. 

Now, he had somewhat of the opposite problem. As royalty, he was expected to sever his ties to human ways. 

And that was just something he could never do. 

As he left the hive behind him, Simon tried to ignore the three minions drifting behind him. They kept him within sight but were also interested in picking through the desolate streets for anything to eat. Not that there tended to be much life this close to home. 

Simon walked for an hour before some unknown force compelled him to stop. He lifted his nose and smelled the air. 

There was a faint trace of sharp, rich blood. Human. 

His brows furrowed as his stomach sank. What on earth was a human doing this close to the hive? An injured human?

They must have been driven here by some of the vampire drones. On instinct, Simon tried to determine where the source was coming from. He turned around and almost let out a scream when he saw a flash of human eyes before they vanished behind the broken remains of an old wall. 

So close. 

And if he could smell the poor soul, so would the drones. Simon began hurrying along, keeping his composure. Knowing the others would happily stop to pick apart easy prey, Simon cleared his throat. 

“Stay close to me,” he said. 

He didn’t look back, but could hear the glide of his vampire guards as they reluctantly gave up looking for food. 

Simon walked for about another hour, pulling out the gilded pocket watch from within his coat more and more often the farther he went. He hoped he’d be on time. 

Ahead, at a crossroads between two streets, was a faded metal sign and a bench. A bus stop.

Simon sat down and massaged his ankle, feigning some fatigue. After a moment, he leaned against the bench and lifted his gaze to the clouded skies. 

“Come here,” he said to the clouds. 

But it was the drones that obeyed. The lesser vampires within the hive were bound to the court like slaves or draft animals. It would’ve troubled Simon terribly, if not for the way these vampires so happily abandoned their human ways in exchange for supposedly eternal life.

Two drones hovered in the air above him and another crouched at his feet. 

Unperturbed, Simon asked, “Look at the sky and tell me what you see.”

And because he was Temperance, the king’s advisor, the minions obeyed. 

“I see…” one of them began, “...I see clouds.”

“Look harder,” Simon said. “Really take a moment.”

And as they looked, Simon checked his pocket watch once more. 

Without warning, three gunshots rang out. Three sharp, shrill cries followed. 

Then the sounds of three stakes hitting the ground. 

Simon put his watch away. He breathed a short sigh of relief. They were both right on time. 

He listened for the sound of heavy footsteps. Simon picked up the stake that had killed the vampire at his feet and turned it over in his hands; it wasn’t too badly blunted. 

A figure dressed in pink came up from behind him, falling into the space alongside him. Simon held out the stake and she took it. 

“Thanks,” Bonnie said. She slid the stake into a slot in the bandolier over her chest. She looked exhausted, skin covered in scratches and dirt. 

“You know,” Simon said, “If it’s so hard for you to get this close to the hive on your own, I could always meet you farther out.”

Realistically, he could probably walk for days without suspicion being raised. To his kind, weeks could pass like hours and hours were nothing more than moments. 

Say nothing of the discarded minions. The hive had so many drones that Simon could slip back inside and not have anyone notice he returned alone. 

Bonnie groaned and said, “Save it, Petrikov. We both know it’s better for you to keep close. I can’t have the King going ballistic at the idea of you missing.”

Or The Star, but she didn’t need to say that part. 

He sighed, knowing she was right. But Bonnie was tough, he knew. She got herself here without that tank of hers, knowing it was too big and would draw too much attention. And she did it every year. 

“Here,” he said, reaching into his inner coat pocket. He pulled out a thick wad of paper folded many times over. Bonnie’s one eye watched his every minute movement as a hawk would. Or more accurately, a buzzard aching for a carcass.

She snatched the paper from him and unfurled it, revealing the most up-to-date map of the hive that Simon could design with his limited cartography skills. It was terribly difficult to accurately convey a three-dimensional space filled with irregular chambers and steep, winding halls. 

The hive was almost a living thing. Its corridors were more akin to a labyrinth that shifted and evolved from year to year. Not just to keep intruders out, but to keep their captured prey inside. 

Simon knew that in just a short while, he’d have to start making Bonnie a new map should she ever need it. 

For a good, long while, neither of them spoke as Bonnie poured over the newest alterations to the hive. 

“That old atrium is gone,” she said softly, “You broke it up into a bunch of smaller rooms… and these vestibules along the westward cliffs, they used to be sealed off.”

“Excellent eye as always,” he said. 

“Thanks, Petrikov,” Bonnie said. She folded the map back up and tucked it into her pants pocket.

Simon felt his stomach clench. 

Bonnie had tried and failed over countless years to destroy the hive. She tried an old cache of human-made missiles launched from afar, raising an army of human survivors, biological warfare by pumping live animals with disease vectors… 

Only once did she ever use one of the maps Simon made, to infiltrate the hive alone on what was essentially a suicide mission. She hadn’t told him, but she paid a heavy enough price. 

He stared at her missing eye and the ring of scar tissue that her eyepatch hid. 

“Do you think this will be it?” Simon asked softly. “What’s your plan?”

Bonnie froze. She looked away from him and he realized it was because she was ashamed. 

“You ran out of ideas,” he said. 

“I did not!” 

Bonnie rose to her feet, swayed, then stood tall over Simon. He resisted the urge to ask her to sit back down. When she got into these fits, it was best to let her work through them

So he remained silent as she pointed at him and said, “I’ve tried armies, I’ve tried it solo. Right now, I’m lying low and trying to put together a small, elite team.”

Again, there was that question of and then what?

But Simon only removed a handkerchief from his pocket and polished his glasses. 

Bonnie sometimes went years without directly attacking the hive, The Star, or the King. He knew from scouting reports made by the drones that she devoted most of her time to diminishing the population of lesser vampires. 

She was too prideful, too upset, to admit that she was only really in a position to continue doing that kind of more subtle work. 

By the time Bonnie cooled off, after a good deal of pacing and muttering, and was willing to sit back down, Simon just so happened to be done polishing his glasses. He blinked behind the lenses and, perhaps against his better judgment, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

Bonnie tensed. She had a stake out faster than Simon could see and only stopped herself an inch away from skewering his wrist. 

“Sorry,” she said. She put the stake away. 

Simon smiled at her, “It’s alright. You wouldn’t have hurt me either way.”

She scoffed, the corner of her mouth peeling back to show her teeth. “I would’ve ripped your fancy coat.”

True. Very true. 

“Then I would have told my tailor that I was being my clumsy self and tripped.”

To his surprise, Bonnie chuckled softly. She leaned her head against the bench and shut her eye for a moment. 

“What about you?” she asked. 

“What about me?”

Without looking at Simon, she said, “How’s your junk been going?”

Simon felt a twinge of embarrassment. Perhaps this was how Bonnie felt. He ran his hands over his braid, one after another, and cleared his throat. 

“Well… I’ve been successful in keeping more vampires sequestered to the hive by convincing the King we ought to improve fortifications.”

Bonnie smirked, more teasing than mean. “You trying to make my job harder?”

Simon felt his face flush. “Of course not! But more importantly, I think I’ve been making some more progress with The- with Marceline.”

Bonnie’s eye snapped open. She sat up straight and stared at him. 

Simon said, “She’s been eating more of the color red in private with me, I think she’s starting to learn it’s okay to not have blood all the time,” he debated with himself for a moment, then added, “And… well, she almost came with me today.”

At that, Bonnie said nothing. Only clenched her teeth and shot to her feet once more, fists shaking at her sides.

“Bonnie! Please-”

“Did she know you were coming to meet me?” 

Her voice was rough and gravelly. It almost made Simon wince. “No, but-”

Bonnie swore in German. 

He stood up as well but didn’t try to touch her again. He said, “Please, I’m sorry for what she did to you, but I know there’s still good in her! And I wouldn’t have let her hurt you. O-or let you hurt her. Or–”

“Simon,” Bonnie said, in a way that showed just how tired she was. Her voice was nothing more than a low, sad rasp, “I know you love her…”

Though she was facing away from Simon, he knew she was touching her eye. 

Bonnie never would’ve gotten out of the hive the last time if he hadn’t secretly helped her. He practically carried her through the subterranean tunnels when she was dizzy and weak from blood loss. 

She said softly, almost gently, “I know you love her… but she’s never held back against me. So I can’t afford to hold back against her. I’m sorry.”

Bonnie began to walk away, their conversion having come to its end. But Simon had to say something more, if not to defend Marceline than to even attempt to make amends. 

But he found nothing. No words of great inspiration. 

Instead, he simply said, “Stay safe out there, Bonnie. And be careful.”

To his immense surprise, Bonnie paused. Without looking all the way back at him, she said, “Thanks, Petrikov. See you later.”

Later being subject to debate. If they missed their annual illicit meet up next year, it’d take even longer before he’d be able to see her again. To someone Simon’s age, that shouldn’t feel like a long time. 

But just as he walked the earth, he tried so very hard to feel the passage of time the way humans did. To count the minutes and feel like they mattered. 

As he watched her go, Simon felt two ways. 

He could’ve stopped Bonnie. 

He could’ve gone with her. 

But he only turned around and kept his eyes on the distant hive. 

[gregorovitch-adler]

Hi there! I was wondering what your thoughts are on ACD Watson's wives. First of all, I know nothing about the marriage traditions or laws in Victorian England but it seems weird to me that he kept remarrying because I guess his wives kept passing away? I mean he didn't/couldn't divorce them back them, right?

He didn't do very well with his private practice from what I've gathered. How come he could afford remarrying all the time. Also in my culture (East Asian), if a person's spouses kept dying, the matchmaker would refuse service because that person would be considered a curse.

Thank you and have a great day!

Hi!

Your questions are pretty interesting. As a South-East Asian, I can understand how people would frown at the person whose spouses kept passing away. There must be quite a few similarities in our cultures, even if we're not from the same country/region.

1.) A simple, detached answer would be that Arthur Conan Doyle was not the best person when it came to keeping his stories consistent, especially on the character-related details.

He might've wanted to tell us that Watson got married, but probably he didn't want Watson's marriage to keep him from assisting Holmes with his cases, and that's why everything about Watson's married life and wives is so skewed.

He wasn't even consistent about the location of Watson's gunshot wound in A Study in Scarlet. Initially, Watson was shot in the subclavian artery of the left side. But on the next page, the wound location has been shifted to his leg? This is just one of the many examples of Doyle's inconsistencies in his stories.

Maybe he didn't check that Mary Morstan had died sometime during one of his stories. Anything is possible.

2.) Another version of the answer (which is heavily filled with Holmes/Watson shipping): Watson was an unreliable narrator and didn't want any unwanted attention of the general public drawn towards the nature of the relationship he had with Sherlock Holmes. That's why Watson was so inconsistent in the stories that he published in The Strand magazine. I believe there's a reason Watson describes Holmes as cold and calculating at some points, but goes on to describe the incidents where Holmes was undoubtedly kind to someone at other points of the stories. I even wrote a meta about it here .

The fanon version is that Watson wanted to avoid the risk of being arrested on the grounds of gross indecency, and so he made up a wife - or even several wives - to cover it up.

I mostly agree with this theory, because otherwise, Watson (who's married by the timeline of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes) going away with Holmes to Switzerland, and even sharing a room with him would be pretty weird and not exactly plausible, I don't think his first wife, Mary Morstan, is an imaginary character. But it's very much possible that her marriage to Watson was just a ruse to hide from the prying eyes of the public.

If we strictly talk about canon, then Watson marries Mary Morstan in The Sign of the Four, then she probably passes away by the time of The Return of Sherlock Holmes short-story collection (the jury is still out on that one - again, because of Doyle's inconsistencies), then Watson starts living with Holmes again as a bachelor for a long time. Then by the time of Casebook of Sherlock Holmes, his wife is brought up again.

Either it was another case of Doyle's inconsistencies, or Watson remarried sometime off-stage. (Though I think Doyle would've at least made a passing reference to Watson's remarriage, him being the POV character in most of the stories and all... idk.)

From what I've gathered after reading all the stories, Watson seemed to have only two wives at different points of time. Mary Morstan and another unnamed one in Casebook.

From the first-hand experience of reading those stories, I don't think Watson having multiple wives is a canonical thing. That's also a part of fan-interpretation. It's because the physical description of Watson's wife/ wives kept changing every time she was mentioned in any stories because of the lack of consistency in the whole narration. That's how it seemed to me when I read the stories. Though I've gone through them all only once, which means I could be wrong about this bit of detail in particular.

Still, Watson didn't seem to have numerous wives in canon to me. Just two.

And yes, you're right. Watson wasn't well-off even with his private practice. The fact that he was able to afford to remarry so many times (if he ever did) is quite odd.

Then there comes the social stigma behind divorce/remarriage. I'm not that familiar with the marriage traditions in Victorian England either, but I don't think people worldwide were so free and open-minded about the topic of divorce in general. Things have advanced in Western countries nowadays, but the social aspect of all this must have been quite different in the Victorian era. So, you're right about that thing too.

Tl;dr: There is no specific answer to your question, because the author of the original stories didn't bother to keep his details intact. They kept changing in canon, so you're free to believe whatever you want to. Because, as you said, the fact that Watson keeps remarrying all the time doesn't add up with his financial condition along with the societal conditions in that era.

So, everything is just open for interpretation here.

I personally believe that Watson only had one wife - Mary Morstan - whom he had a lavender marriage with (a fake marriage for the sake of society). I know this isn't canonical either, but what actually is canonical - well, nobody has a definite answer to that question.

I hope you find my answer satisfactory, because your ask was rather interesting.

Thanks.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

You've done what ifs where Aro or Carlisle swapped places with Dumbledore, but what if the protagonists swapped roles instead? Harry Swan and Bella Potter? How would that go?

Anon's referring to this post as well as this post.

Caveat That Bears Repeating

I've said this a number of times in these kinds of posts already, but the thing is that backstories matter. Harry and Bella don't just pop into existence, informed by nothing, they all have histories that lead them to where they end up in canon.

Bella has her parent's messy divorce, her alienation from her father, her irresponsible mother, as well as the socialization of being an American girl in the early 2000's.

Harry is an orphan physically and mentally abused by his surviving relatives, at the age of eleven he suddenly discovers that in a secret society he's bigger than the Beatles, he's a young British boy in the early 1990's who then is thrust into the wizarding world culture.

My point is that as much as I can theorize what Bella or Harry would be like in the AU where Bella's now a British girl living in a cupboard beneath the stairs and Harry's now living with Renee, it's just me handwaving and guessing.

I really don't know with these things.

With that said, we can try.

Bella Potter

We'll say the Dursleys pull the exact same shit with Bella as they would Harry. I imagine Bella's almost New Moon levels of depressed at eleven.

She thinks she's ugly and is purposefully made so by her relatives (given bad haircuts, clothes that don't fit, probably Dudley's castoffs making her look more tom-boyish and less 'cute' than what might be acceptable), she's told her parents were drunks and losers, and her family despises her and thinks she's stupid and a waste of space.

I imagine Bella often contemplates whether it'd be better if she'd never been born in the first place. Where Harry reacted with anger, I imagine from what we see of canon, Bella crumples in on herself.

Then she discovers she's a witch, that weird scar on her forehead that she always tries to cover a sign of her defeating You-Know-Who, and that her parents were wonderful people.

Bella waits for the other shoe to drop, for people to realize she's a phony, that she's not cool, special, pretty, or anything any of these people seem to believe she is based on nothing. Worse, Bella would want to come clean, but she doesn't want to lose any of this.

Hagrid is treating her nicely, on the train that boy Ron genuinely seems to like her and think she's cool and interesting, she has friends and people think she can do things.

Bella's terrified of being found out as a fraud which makes her more nervous than Neville in trying to use magic (especially in Potions where Snape mercilessly bullies her and thus makes her even worse than she otherwise would have been).

However, this gets in the way of typical Harry adventures, as Bella to the best of her ability keeps her nose down and out of trouble (as then everyone would hate her again). As a result, she doesn't save Hermione from the troll, Ron eventually gets bored of her and thinks of her as another girl, she doesn't go after the Philosopher's Stone or later involve herself with the Chamber of Secrets debacle.

Voldemort gets the stone offscreen (likely eventually able to get through the enchantment on the mirror) and is able to resurrect himself at which point Bella is terrified as everyone's now expecting her to do something about it.

"I am twelve?" Bella asks, then cries because she's not a magical princess like everyone wants her to be.

Harry Swan

Where Bella is depressed, Harry is angry.

Harry's not happy about moving to Forks but it was made clear he didn't have much choice. He's very bitter with Renee about this and bitter at Charlie in general for being an absentee father. He's ready to take on the whole school, gossiping all about him he's sure, and spit in their faces.

Unlike Hogwarts, as he doesn't want to be here and doesn't have good preconceptions, it's the equivalent of him being told he's going to Malfoy Boarding School in Malfoy County, to a place where he's sure to hate the people and they're sure to be looking for any weakness. (Remember, Bella did not at all have a good perception of Forks or its people).

He, in fact, immediately does so just to make sure they know where he stands. Yeah, he knows his mom ran off, what about it? I imagine he gets in a fist fight with Mike Newton on his first day, Harry is labeled a delinquent.

He catches a look at the Cullens and thinks they're rich freaks and weirdos who moved to this nowhere town. Charlie is at his wits end with Harry and utterly unsure how to deal with him as most the kids in town don't make this kind of trouble.

Unfortunately for Harry, he catches Edward's interest, unfortunately for Harry, with his outspoken anger and bitterness he's not Edward's type.

There's only two doors for someone with the smell, Edward takes the door labeled "eat me, I'm delicious".

[thelovelydoggycatmadi]

Aphmau facts I refuse to acknowledge on principal alone

(slight nsfw)

Zane being a brony

bronies not only ruined there own show but made the worst creepypasta’s back in the day. Also I have personal beef with a few of them bitches (including myself if you know you know)

Brony Zane is cringe have him collect plushies instead

2. Zane has a flat ass

absolutely lies and slander. Katelyn does though yes I’m 100% biased. She has no ass only muscle

3. Laurence’s fashion sense

I don’t even like Laurence but for fucks sakes why does he always look somewhere between a tik tok e-boy and a freshly divorced white suburban dad about to pick up his kid from soccer.

4. Zane having a crush on aph (or any of season 3 really)

This could’ve been interesting if he acted like an actual adult. Listen sometimes I like a whiny miserable little man but I don’t like a full blown 27 year old crying like a fucking baby over a girl that is already IN A RELATIONSHIP even want him. That’s not just unattractive it’s fucking weird. It’s yet another case of an interesting concept done poorly. Just because he doesn’t have any social skills doesn’t mean decorum always needs to be thrown out the window.

let’s not forget the time he literally said he want to repopulate with her. WHILE STILL LIVING WITH AARON. No I’m not kidding. What the FUCK.

5. ghost/kim

Ghost/Emmalyn is just such a bad character. She literally attempts to SA/full blown Sa’s Zane I don’t need to say anymore. And Kim is straight up just useless she does absolutely nothing to help the cast or the plot other than be a vessel. At least characters that I dislike (as people) make me feel something. Which makes me hate her more. Her character is literally nothing without ghost.

6. Jess implying Ein is a better villain than Zane.

fuccccck off. I don’t even like MCD but at least Zane made his own plans and didn’t need plot device to the tenth degree to make him hateable.

7. Mystreet/McD are in the same universe/timeline

Every time I think about the ladder half of season 6 i have an aneurism. Like every-time I rewatch with friends I forget everything that’s told to us.

8. Jess imply Melicinda was going to be endgame

This is gonna get me in get water maybe but I- I don’t get it guys. I mean at least Garrence I can’t get even though I’m personally not a huge fan. My feelings about Melissa aside- there’s nothing here. Literally nothing. Baron. The fruit is dryer than a raisin. So why Jess bought into it or tried to set it up- I’ll never know. Baiting your queer audience is trendy I guess.

8. Zanvis.

I’ve seen things. Things that will never be scorched from my mind. No matter how much bleach I put on the stain. It will never leave me… god… is this why you won’t come back to us? Because of what we have rot on your beautiful earth?

(just to be clear guys I’m referring to the fanart and how Jess treated it like her version of septiplier)

I’ll put more down here if I think of anything else.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I finally managed to finish this hurt-comfort piece from last month ^^' And it is very much hurt-comfort, so prepare accordingly

Summary: Fuegoleon overhears his wife on a communicator talking to some man he doesn't know, it is followed by said man badmouthing him, suggesting his wife to divorce him, and marry his (the man's) son instead. She then proceeds to give the man a piece of her mind. She and Fue talk afterwards, some comforting, and flirting ensues

Pairing: Fuegoleon x Solara Genre: Hurt-comfort Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~2,0k Contains: Feelings of inadequacy, fears and self-doubts, badmouthing, (kinda) strong language in some point I guess, hurt-comfort, happy end, maybe some suggestive themes (?), emotional piece, fluffy end, happy teasing at the end, oh and Fue is implied to be impotent by an idiot in reference to some earlier event (it's one sentence flashback), but I promise a happy end for the happy couple!

“I don’t understand why you are with him?”

The statement caught Fuegoleon off guard. Despite it not being something completely unheard of in the noble circles.

Someone was always jealous of someone, there were conflicting interests of different kind, or then someone was simply wearing rose coloured glasses. The reasons might have differed, but the statement, the sentiment of ‘you could do better’ was nothing new.

And while he wasn’t one to pry, the fact that the statement was spoken… in his own home, the Vermillion estate, he… Something made him stop in his track. Behind the partially open door. And just listen.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He could feel warmth draining from his face as he could hear the voice of his wife. His beloved, gentle, loving wife.

“You really want to know?” Spoke the voice of a man he did not know.

“Well, since you started already?”

There was sarcasm in her tone, along with annoyance, and anger.

She sounded defiant.

But there was still a sense of creeping dread, of fear and defeat, that seemed to glide over the floor and into his shadow, making him feel the weight of his doubts. The things he had thought would have been left in the dusts of time, or would at least be nearly conquered. But here they were, lifting their ugly heads, making his eyes fall onto his right arm. The extremity that he had created with his mana, his power alone, and which he governed with his mana control, and sheer willpower, at all times. To not burn and scorch when not needed. To maintain shape and poise, despite fire itself wishing to do anything but.

The flames, the fire, the ever-present reminder of… his failures. And with the flickering flames, another memory surfaced. Perhaps one of the most vicious statements that had ever been uttered to him.

Wives in unhappy marriages usually rely in artificial … extremities... to keep them satisfied. But what a sorry excuse is it when the husband needs to do the same.

 It had been a cheap shot.

And one that had barely made sense.

Barely but… it had stricken a nerve in him.

Most things that were thrown at him, he could take, but that… that had been a sore spot. And the sickening taste of that memory seemed to follow him, come back, even if only scarcely, but still… in his moments of self-doubt, of pain and sorrow.

“He’s a workaholic,” the man’s voice stated. “Overly focused on rules and regulations, has no sense of humour, has this sour expression all the time like he’s smelling someone’s sock sweat and … whatever he has going on with that eyeliner has got to go. I thought he’s royalty. Not a jester.”

There was a moment of silence.

A deafening silence.

He didn’t know what to think. What to feel. And he couldn’t see his wife’s expression, so all the had to read, was the silence.

Her mana was there, but he couldn’t read it.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. That he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell what she might have been thinking, with the statements made. What path she was travelling. But. One thing he did know, was that she was going to go that path to the end.

Because there was no sway coming from behind the door.

Whatever she had decided, had been decided before the silence.

“And what?” She asked. “You think you could do better?”

“I have a son of marrying age, and I know you have kids and all, but blended families are the-“

“Why?”

There was a pause.

Another silence, another third of an eternity, during which he didn’t know what to think.

“Why what?”

“Why do you think you’d be better?”

The room fell into another silence. His mind failed to comprehend.

But it seemed, that the man’s voice was just as baffled.

“What I hear, is that you have an issue with how responsible he is. That you have a problem with how he’s trying to do the right thing, and do it correctly.” She started. “And I will have you know,” her voice was low, and quiet, but it held gravity to it. “He is responsible. He takes his job seriously and is trying to do everything like it should be done; keep the best interest of his people in mind, keep them safe and listen before placing judgements. But. He still manages to show love and care to his family. Because his loyalty is to his family first and foremost. He is a father, husband, and a knight, in that order. And whatever bullshit followed your opinion after that, is just you, trying to badmouth him.”

His eyes were still down, but he didn’t see whatever was laid before him. His mind was instead engulfed into thoughts, into the swaying sea of his emotions. And… before he realised it, he notices that the corners of his mouths had tugged up ever so slightly.

It was a strange combination of a lot of thoughts and feelings, which were neither particularly heavy nor light. But they were one thing: secure.

There was security in the moment, the things she had stated.

It was a quiet kind of security. The kind that didn’t make conscious thoughts run through his mind; but they weren’t needed. He didn’t need words to it, because he knew.

He knew what he had known for a long time already, but which, it seemed, the world wanted to make him guess again and again. But there was something he had to wonder.

He knew that she loved him. He knew that she’d stay loyal to him. But… the thing he found himself wondering, and the thing he felt that he had to wonder, was-

“Oh.”

He turned his head, realising the door nearly bumped onto his side.

“Sorry honey, I didn’t see you there. I was… umm… I got off from a call and I…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Her eyes were closed, as if she was trying to shut out the topics of the conversation, and focus on what to do now. She swayed her hand lazily in the air, as if to try and assist the thoughts that must’ve been circling in her head, to flow again. “It doesn’t matter.”

Just like that. It didn’t matter. Except that it did.

“Who was it?” He inquired, turning towards her with a gentle motion, as if he was trying to ease into the conversation.

“Some…” she opened her mouth, closed it, opened again and… sighed. “The umm… what was his name? You remember the pretentious man from three months ago who came to visit with the prospect of hoping that you’d give him advice while conducting business in relation to knight grimoire cases.”

“I remember,” he nodded.

“I don’t know what that man is on, but he needs to either lower the dose, or double it.”

A faint smile tugged the corner of his lips.

“Such audacity and, and, rudeness and delusions of grandeur or desperation or,” she blabbered eyes widening with every syllable, her voice growing louder from word to word. “Or just having his head shoved up so [goddamn high up his own ass that he cannot for the life of him see anything besides his own-]”

“Honey, honey…” he took a hold of her hand, stopping the flurry of words that bubbled with rage and discontent from her lungs, spat out in her own language because Cloverian didn’t seem to suffice. “It’s alright, my love,” he stated while taking a step closer to her.

His breathed glided over her forehead, as the syllables of his words, his whispers drizzled down from his lips and into her hair… making her eyes close as she took a deep breath, and tried to let the anger flow down, and down, and down… to the bottoms of her feet. His warmth sought to envelop her into an embrace, as his hands simply continued to hold hers. “It’s alright, my love,” he repeated as his thumb stroked her hand.

“But it’s…” her mouth twisted into a grimace, as if she was in pain, pricked and stung by a thorn from the shadows beneath her feet, from the emotions and thoughts of the conversation that she was trying to stomp to the ground. “It’s really not. I…” she looked at him, opened her eyes for the first time since he took her by the hand, and gazed into his eyes with a flicker. Uncertain if she should tell him or not. If she should speak out what had been dared to say to her and she just…

“I heard you.”

“I… you..”

“I heard you,” he repeated with a nod. “What was said on the other side of the line and… what you replied.”

Her gaze averted, looked to the side as her grimace only grew. “He-“

“There will be audacious, shameless individuals, who will try anything,” he stated. “Say anything, and… I just…”

“But I should’ve told him off, properly, really told him what I thought about whatever bullshit opinion he had and-“

“Honey,” he stated, nearly laughed, “darling, love,” he continued while placing his forehead against hers. “The love of my life…” he whispered, uttered with hushed syllables with closed eyes. “Aren’t I always telling you to behave?”

There was a brief pause, a moment of silence, at the end of which she replied with a whisper of her own. “You are…”

“That is about how much you can behave, while, properly, letting someone have a piece of your mind. And… from what I heard, there was a strong word or two in there,” he mused with the latter sentence, making a single amused huff leave her lungs. “So you made your stance very clear, and we have all the more reason to steer closer to another direction when it comes to grimoire cases.”

“Still, I feel that I didn’t… say enough,” she admitted, while nudging his head with hers.

He pulled away, just enough to place his hand onto her cheek and look her into the eyes.

“Then what would have been enough?” He asked, which was a fair question.

What really would have been enough for her to say? Made the scores even? Not make her feel this burning and pricking sensation in her that still tried to flare up?

She didn’t think there was such a thing. Which is what she admitted. “Nothing…”

“Then it was enough,” he told her while stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“God…” she shook her head with bittersweet amusement. “I’m supposed to be comforting you since you heard it, not this way around.”

“You did,” he told her with a chuckle. “You comforted by standing up for me.”

“Ah, so no kisses and cuddles then?” She teased as the emotions still mixed within her, but the melancholy was beginning to subside.

“Hmm…” he hummed in thought with a smirk. “When did I turn down such an offer?”

“I was just asking,” she grinned while leaning up, so that her lips inched closer to his.

“Were you now?” He mirrored the movement, lips nearly touching, but not quite, as the word dripped from him as if some divine nectar that she could almost taste…

“Mhm~” she hummed back, eyes flickering between his lips and his gaze. “Unless you have other plans.”

“Plans can change.”

“Oh really now?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.”

“I see…” she placed her hands onto his chest, and let them slide over his jacket, under his cape, until they settled onto his shoulders, and pressed herself against him. But her face was still hovering against his, eyes tracing every line, every exquisitely crafted feature, as she could feel his warmth flowing to her.

 How was I so lucky…? How did I earn this… you, in my life? He thought before pressing his lips against hers, taking a hold of her upper lip, and drinking in her love and affection.

The world might not always been a kind place, but… with the right people in it, it didn’t matter. Because his world was soft, and gentle, everything he could have hoped for, and more.

[supernaturalconvert]

Since I reminded you of your spn revival idea.... do you have any more of this Dean Jr meets his half brother or sister idea😈

Cause my brain's been running with it a lil and... it would be kinda cool if he meets his siter who FOR SOME REASON has powers like the special children. Cause maybe there was somewhere a zealous demon follower of yellow eyes that made sure the sex Sam had with Dr Cara Roberts (from sex and violence) ended in a pregnancy.

I would kinda looove for her to maybe fall to her powers more like Ava Wilson and for her and Dean Jr to have to deal with that, on top of whatever that zealous yellow eyes follower has planned.

Maybe they could even touch on the possibility of Azazel being a fallen angel and get heaven involved. But that would be HIGHLY optional.

You got any ideas as well🥹🙏

I have thought about something similar as well but my idea was more for an AU in the revival. Probably I am stealing from TW (not sure since I haven't watched it only heard references) here but maybe Dean jumps into another reality and comes face to face with DJ and they are obviously very wary of each other for a sec until Sam comes on the scene and calls out "Dean" and they both respond at the same time.

In this reality Sam has two kids DJ and a younger daughter with Jessica (things are not going that well in their marriage or they are divorced) and Sam is a very successful attorney. I would like for DJ to be a pre-teen and the daughter even younger. Sam's life is well put together except that he does have visions and similar other dormant powers that he has suspected for a long time. That's why he has sort of voluntarily strained his relationship with Jessica coz he wants her away in case anything happens to him.

Obviously Sam is not immediately trusting of Dean coz his relationship with his brother from this reality is really bad and they haven't been in touch for years and ended on really bad terms. However, Dean wants to stick around with his brother and niece & nephew for a few days to get to know them a little. As he does that, he realises that Sam is surrounded by all the demons from his reality from Azazel to Ruby to Meg to Brady.

Azazel could be the guy who gave Sam a chance early on and Sam holds in high regard almost telling Dean, that Azazel did for him what John never did. Similarly Brady is his best friend still who he trusts with his life for something to this effect. There could be other folks as well such as Sarah, Bobby etc

The plot can develop from there with him enlisting Bobby and maybe Rufus's help to figure out the demon nexus while Sam is struggling with his own demons and not telling Dean everything about what's going on with him. Also, maybe Sam suspects that maybe whatever is going on with him is also going with DJ but actually it's his younger daughter who maybe a psychic. He eventually shares his fears about his children with Dean but still doesn't tell him everything neither does Dean tell him his fears about the demon. That will make for good drama when they eventually do after getting closure again.

Eventually they talk about John and maybe the plot of the next season is John showing up after years being underground. John is vary for both Sam and his daughter but he is torn since firstly its Sam and secondly the daughter is named after Mary by Sam.

Thanks for the ask..... I guess I was thinking how the Winchester dynamic could play out in the later seasons.

[watcher-comic]

okay hi

did i promise to make an art... lore dump post literally last month? yes. did i not do it for nearly a month? also yes. and im Very Sorry.

anyway! onto the ranting

So starting off with the obvious, Nanehi's color scheme is based off of the Shawnee tribe's flag!

Obviously more desaturated, but the blue sweater and two yellow stars were meant to show that he's native.

Alright, going in page order I'm just gonna throw around some easter eggs or fun facts or commentary...whatever....

Because this is the only good image I can find of it, Nane wears his parents' wedding bands on a necklace. Because his parents are divorced </3

On page 2, Nane has a poster up on his wall which is my current sketchbook cover in my art class. I believe it's somewhere on my art blog

Nane has a ziptie on his backpack! It doesn't mean anything.

Page 6: The white text that says "what?" is actually a reference to the first debut of Nane - an askblog!

(technically his first word was "huh" but i changed it to what for plot's sake)

Continuing with the black spaces on page 6, the panicked eye doesn't really mean anything. However, the twisted light switch was supposed to represent the noose that shows up at the end of the comic.

For page 7, there's obviously the audience design to talk about, but the things I actually wanna focus on are:

The doodle on the top left, which is Nanehi saying that he thinks he has tinnitus [which he then goes on to immediately deny in the next page]

And the doodle on the bottom right. His fursona is a bunny and if I could, I would've tried to fit more bunny imagery into the comic. But alas :pensive:

Page 13: All the different colored text were the responses I got from a select few people. I showed them the previous panels of the page and asked them what they wanted [there is one distinct person I didn't ask but I will get to them later].

I also want you to keep the... 3rd shade of green in mind [the "i want to see where this goes"]

For this panel on page 15, I wanted it to be known that Nanehi isn't a real person, and they know it. Everyone else's face is squared, even the simply doodled character in the background and the barely visible person in the foreground. Everyone except Nane.

Page 16: Man that's just mold on his shower curtain.

Page 17: There's actually a lot I want to talk about with page 17. Firstly, the design of The Audience. It changed, clearly. Before it was that weird circle thing, but now it's more humanoid - to the point of having hair similar to Nanehi's. The reason being, it's not entirely The Audience anymore. It's The Creator too. Nanehi was based off my fear of being watched and constantly having an audience. The little amount of comfort that the figure gives was... sorta supposed to be an apology to the character- as cheesy as that sounds.

(Also the fact that their text originally said "didn't they already answer that" but was crossed out to say 'we'. The Creator disguising themself as The Audience. And truly, what is to separate them?)

Another thing I want to point out is the dark grey panel. It's the same shade of grey I used for the askblog, and he's smiling in that panel, because during the askblog he was much happier around the audience- or the concept of them, rather.

And then of course, the dark blue text that reads "I know how this ends." That actually wasn't a response I took from someone, but rather a piece of... I guess dialogue, that I felt like someone would say. That specific someone being my friend Classi, who was the only person besides me that knew how Watcher ended. Purely because she had a very similar character and we thought that they'd be buddies.

On page 18, we have 3 entire panels in a different style. That being the style of the askblog.

(some examples)(the last image is where the avatar came from, haha)

On page 19 we have this panel, which you can probably assume what it is. It, I suppose, could both be seen as Nane standing, back to the audience, or as Nane hanging without the noose. You choose.

And of course, the last page. For some reason this fucks me up. Because this is The Creator talking to Nanehi. The Creator knows that Nane has no say in how their story ends, but they're given the illusion of control, because that's all they've been looking for. They wanted control over something, so the only way to prove such control was to show The Audience that they could end the story whenever they wanted. He doesn't know that he was talking to The Creator, he just assumed it was still The Audience. He doesn't know that he didn't really have a say.

This was what he wanted. That's how he's ending the story

[scaryspears]

Havik Rant + Wasted Plotential and Theory

Warning: This is a long post, so read if you have the time.

I love Havik in the 3d era, and I guess it's because there's so little of him that sets him up for mystery, but I mainly love his face. The way half his face is ridden of flesh and his eyes glow as if he's some kind of Skeletor adjacent creature. I always look at him and go "How did it get to this point?", but in a way where I'm laughing about it, 'cause what did bro do to his face?

I hope Titan Havik will be a great break from the cartoonish evil that is Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, Quan Chi and the others. (Don't get me wrong with Shang Tsung, I love him, but his belief system is equivalent to a power ranger villain. He's basically Valtor if he was successful. I'm not talking about MK1 Shang btw.)

I also can't picture Havik working with or for villains like Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, and Shinnok. Havik wants to spread chaos, yes, but I don't think he views this as enslavement and feeding off misery. Another thing I'd like to note is his voice and delivery, courtesy of George C. Cole. Havik is calm, patient and almost kind. Shao Kahn actively sounds dominant, Shang Tsung is calm but cruel and impatient, with Quan Chi being condescending.

In the small glimpses that I've seen Havik through the later games (before MK1) he seems like a pretty chill guy. Now get this, Chaos is his way of life because that's the world he comes from. Chaos is basically the equivalent of freedom, so Havik wants to share that freedom. In Deceptions Konquest mode he describes water in a way you only expect from a scholar with a love and sense for nature, and I interpreted this as him believing everything should go naturally. In a Christian perspective, humans are naturally evil, and it's in our nature to be attracted to wicked things. Havik wants us to embrace who we are, and our deep desires.

In Noob Saibot's MK9 ending he meets Havik and shares an 'understanding' with him. Havik helps him with taking over the Netherealm before saying goodbye and returning to the Chaosrealm, no back stabbing or anything. Next there's Joker's ending in MK11, and we all know how Joker is. But there's also Mileena (before NRS let fans bully them into making her dlc), whose bloodlust is fuelled by her Tarkatan blood, a trait she cannot help because it's instinctual. Finally, in MK: Deception's Konquest mode he agrees to train Shujinko if Shujinko helps him in return, and he does but in his own way. Experience instead of practice. Havik doesn't come off as evil but chaotic neutral.

Wasted Plotential

I try not to complain about anything these days because I know NRS are gonna disappoint us anyways, but if I was to really complain about things then I'll start with the storymode, and with the previous games.

MKX could've just been about Sub Zero and Scorpion finding out about Quan Chi and stopping Shinnok. How? Idk, Johnny uses the amulet to trap Shinnok, the Special Forces find Sektor's files and reveal them to Scorpion, who gets his revenge and yada yada. Helps them free Sub Zero and Jax, blah blah.

Scorpion defeating Shinnok is more believable since he's stronger and cooler (sorry Johnny), and has more familiarity with the Neatherealm. (What was the point of building up Johnny just to nerf him in MK11?)

Johnny and Sonya get divorced earlier on because of their differing views on the world (and parenting), so Cassie becomes a UFC fighter or a pro wrestler (as a reference to Johnny's quote in his MK9 chapter about possibly winning a belt in the tournament). I remember coming up with an idea where Jacqui leaves the Special Forces and gets trained by the Shirai-Ryu, but saw an AU fanart design where she was trained by the Lin Kuei, which sounds so much better since it separates her from Takeda. Jacqui shares strong ideals with her father but his overbearing reluctance caused her to be more rebellious and find another way to defend Earthrealm without him possibly intercepting. Instead of being a Jax variant she shares more similarity to Human Cyrax (technology + ninjutsu assassination), and that can introduce a little beef with Frost and have them both deliver lines that feel more personal since they have the same teacher, but have different morals that make them butt heads. Johnny ends up leading the Kombat kids with the Wu Shi instead of the Special Forces, edging Sonya to check on Cassie more often by trying to be involved with their missions. (During MK9 Johnny was glued to Raiden's side and his focus was more on the tournament than on Sonya. After Cyrax defeats him it's Raiden that checks on him.) Instead of Cassie saving the day, have Scorpion save the day because Shinnok is Quan Chi's master, and Scorpion needs to fix his mess. Also because Scorpion would have better control with his powers and has more experience.

The next game can introduce Havik, with the chaos happening in small ways at first, like trees slowly decaying and technology acting against them. Havik is a lesser evil than Shao Kahn, Quan Chi and Shinnok, but he's nothing Scorpion or Sub Zero have handled before since he's less predictable and isn't paranoid about someone threatening his power. Bro just wants to spread some joy and laughter (sarcasm). I'm pretty sure Havik wouldn't even have an army, and I doubt his minions will be anything like the aggressive jobbers that are seen in Outworld. With Shao Kahn it's power and being served, but with Havik it would be everyone serves each other, meaning they will inflict pain on each other and themselves = This game can be about the heroes and villains turning on themselves, by being more honest and less co-operative.

The Special Forces start being wary of the Wu Shi, Sonya interrogates Dark Raiden on information he could be withholding about the realms, Raiden counters back with how she is trying to enlist the Kombat kids behind his back when they are already content with their current positions.

Frost has stolen Sektor's body parts from the Special Forces, and plans to cyberise herself with them. Jacqui and Cassie are sent to stop Frost's cyber initiation plans. Cassie defeats Frost, but Jacqui has the need to rehabilitate her, which sets her at odds with Cassie who doesn't believe Frost is worthy of it, and that they must follow Raiden's orders.

Noob Saibot is working under revenant Liu Kang, but just like his MK9 ending, he starts plotting against him and the other revenants. Noob confronts Hanzo about his loyalty to Quan Chi, and how Hanzo worked with him even after Noob was killed. Noob's revenge is forcing Hanzo to shift between himself and Scorpion, ensuring that the Lin Kuei and Shirai-Ryu will never have peace with Hanzo continuously reliving the past and trying to kill Sub Zero.

Kung Lao reports that the head of Shinnok is missing, and Liu Kang accuses Kung Lao of having something to do with it, and so the revenants turn on themselves. A civil war begins in Neatherealm.

Hotaru meets up with the heroes and tells them that Havik is behind their plight, and offers Seidos help if Earthrealm helps them with the resistance in Seido. Kung Jin and Takeda are sent to aid and they witness the injustice and lunacy of Seidos rules. Kung Jin being Kung Jin speaks against this, and Hotaru has a problem with it, Takeda tries his best to keep the peace. Kung Jin defeats Darrius, Dairou and whatever. Although Hotaru keeps his word about the help thing, he is overbearing when it comes to the rules and their strategy, even getting in the way of the Special Forces.

Skarlet teams up with Tanya to find Mileena's soul (Because why not?They're sisters). Ermac doesn't have it, so they must find it through the Neatherealm. They meet Noob, who admits that he consumed it, but points out the location of the Flesh Pits for a calling of clues. Skarlet combines her power with Noob's to give life to the clones encased in glass (blood + shadow). The clones unleash chaos throughout Outworld, but Skarlet is not finished in her revenge.

Johnny reveals to Dairou that Darrius is behind his family's murder, and sets him free to let him get revenge. Sonya argues that he's made a terrible mistake, but Johnny says that she let Kano live and how that keeps screwing everyone over.

Johnny decides to get a drink at a bar, and Havik will show up, calm and collected. Johnny compliments his costume, and Havik expresses that his fake-ness is an interesting weapon.

I don't know what else.

Theory

I think Havik's hero equivalent would be Johnny Cage, which is where he would come in as the hero instead of defeating a former elder god. Havik isn't Godlike, I'd say his power level is identical to Edenian/Outworld, and if Sonya can handle defeating Kitana and Jade at the same time, then Johnny can handle his own against Havik. Just like Havik, Johnny has a separation from the other heroes concerning his traits and/or beliefs, even sometimes clashing with Cassie, who is always noted to be much like him in personality. Johnny has an easy going attitude that pisses off just about everyone around him, to the point . I think he would be the first to pick up on the odd energy surrounding everyone.

First off he likes to give everyone a nickname, much to their displeasure. Very adamant on giving them those names, but Havik would arguably (probably) be more accepting. I'm quite certain that Havik's name is a title given to him or a name he's made up himself. There are some fans who speculate that he doesn't even have a name given at birth and made up 'Havik' to be his name, suggesting that the name is somewhat earned through experience.

Chaosrealm doesn't have a real name, like Edenia and Seido, it's simply called Chaosrealm. They don't have a name for themselves, simply a representation of what they embody.

"Grandmaster Blueberry Ice, eh?"

"Only Johnny Cage may use that name and live."

Johnny's humour is fuelled by his insensitivity, even while fighting on the side of good he is self-serving, superficial and has a self confidence that almost everyone is eager to stomp on (he's basically a normal person). Even when he clearly doesn't mean to be insensitive (speaking the truth or what's on his mind), people still get offended by what he's said and express some form of aggression. Hell, Bi Han kicked the hell out of him just for touching his arm in MK1.

Now I'm going to get really technical here: In MK11 Skarlet was present and you could tell she was a stand-in for Mileena, which is shown in her sibling rivalry with Kitana. Now let's say Joker was a stand-in for Havik, and in his ending he voices his displeasure about the roster "But these nincompoops? They didn't really get me. Not even that pretty boy, Ninja Mine. Goodnight, sweet Prince!" meaning Joker saw some potential in Johnny Cage. Saw something that suggested that they are similar.

Johnny Cage's humour aside, there has to be something else.

Now let's get into Johnny's MK9 ending: Johnny starts to have spasms where a burst of energy would escape him and destroy everything around him, so he is sent to Seido to learn how to better control it.

Next, to Havik and Johnny's Armageddon endings: Johnny becomes enlightened, freed from vanity and leaves the acting business. What seemed like the joys of life before became meaningless to him, and wanted no part in the shallow lifestyle. Then there's Havik, whose dream for chaos becomes absolute.

(As a bonus let's compare Johnny's ending to Hotaru's, where everyone was forced to bow to Hotaru or be changed into someone they're not. Havik gets the worst end of it by being turned into Hotaru's 2nd in command. What's even funnier is that in the Armageddon intro I can spot Hotaru as the one who impaled Li Mei, but Li Mei is on the side of good while Hotaru is suspiciously on the opposite, despite being against the forces of evil. Why would he be on the same side as Havik when they are enemies? I would also like to point out that Johnny was fighting Darrius, a man resisting the Order of Seido.)

I already wrote something similar to this in another post I made like a year ago, but I'm gonna say this anyway. Johnny found out by himself that all the luxuries and fame that he sought in life weren't worth it. In his MK11 ending he ends up going on adventures with Cassie after coming to this realisation, choosing a life where he can always spend time with those he loves, not ruling over the world or being a dictator. There's chaos within Johnny, but there is a want or need for peace and stability.

Johnny should've been the one that was super pissed about being in a death tournament. Up until that point Johnny has never killed anyone, yet suddenly is expected to in exchange for his own life. How does he, a Hollyweird actor, fit into all this? He got tricked into this yet was able to adapt. He's fine with it, or pretends to be, handling it better than everyone else around. The "Sure, let's go and ruin someone else's life." quote from MK9 always runs through my head when I think about his dedication to defending Earthrealm and trusting Raiden.

When the tournament took place Johnny didn't really know Raiden personally, but Johnny trusted him. Johnny had no reason to be loyal to Raiden, yet he was, unlike Liu Kang who ended up losing faith and rebelling. Johnny has all the recipes to let his ego get to him and potentially betray Raiden, but he never does so.

If Havik and Johnny were to have anything in common, I would say it's a strong sense of faith in what they believe in. Johnny fights for the betterment of Earthrealm, Havik fights for havoc.

I'm very certain that even though Johnny changed over the years, the people around him still hold a dislike towards him to some degree. My first candidates for this are Sonya and Jax.

Read this if you can be bothered: [No matter what, Jax cannot stand Johnny, even at an age where they're more familiar with each other.]

Sonya and Jax are basically the order to Johnny's chaos. Being around them has also influenced (turned) him into someone he wasn't, which was a self hating Special Forces aid (What are is credentials?). It was Hotaru's Armageddon ending but slower.

The reason I haven't listed Kuai Liang is because... I think Kuai Liang has a bit of a friendship with Johnny. He's fond of him, but he won't admit it. He even helps Johnny in sending the Kombat kids into a fake mission with the Lin Kuei.

[mackenzielovee]

unpolished (4) — andy barber

summary: Andy gives you everything you want just to keep you.

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce

wc: 3k

a/n: hi!!!! i really love this chapter and i hope you guys do too , leave me some love if you can! xoxo

     “So, he just walked out?”

You nod, watching Ana reach for another slice of pizza between the two of you. She’d already eaten two pieces, while you’d only been able to stomach about half of your own before reciting everything that had happened with Andy. 

“God, he’s gonna know we were bluffing,” you grumble, “Maybe I can quit over email so I never have to face him again.”

“What are you talking about?” she questions, her mouth half-full of pizza. 

“I’m talking about Neal, Ana,” you sigh, “Andy was definitely on his way over to Neal’s office, and when he finds out that there’s no assistant job open—”

“There is,” she informs you with furrowed brows, as if your misunderstanding is astounding to her, “Neal’s office even has your resume.”

You roll your eyes, “How would Neal’s office have my—”

“I send a copy over,” she shrugs, taking another bite of her pizza before pointing down to your plate, “You gonna finish that?”

Your jaw falls open, “You sent my resume to Neal Logiudice?”

“Yes,” she groans, “Look, I know you were just messing with Andy, but you seriously need to work in an office where you’re appreciated and valued. Two things Andrew Barber does not know how to do when it comes to you.”

Stunned, you let your jaw hang open as you stare at her. She merely shrugs, no longer waiting for permission to take the crust off your plate. She takes a bite of it and nods her head in approval, then takes a long sip of her drink.

“You—” you start, then exhale and try again, “Ana, how could you think that’s okay?”

She shrugs again, clearly unbothered, “I didn’t think you’d mind. Especially with how much you’ve been complaining about Andy.”

For a moment, you want to argue. For a moment, you want to try to explain why she shouldn’t have done that. Instead, you take a long, deep breath, then grab onto your purse and give her a forced smile. 

“I should get back to the office,” you mumble, already moving to stand. 

Ana freezes as your chair squeaks against the tile floor, and with a mouthful of pizza crust, she widens her eyes. 

“Y/N, come on,” she groans, “Just a minute ago you were going to quit over email, now you’re running off to him?”

“It wasn’t supposed to get this far—” you say, stopping yourself and drawing back when Ana’s brows furrow. 

“How far was it supposed to go, then?” she questions. 

You stare at Ana and she stares back, brow hiked up on her forehead as if she’s daring you to answer the question. Too afraid to venture a guess, you sigh and take a step back.

“I’ll call you later,” you grumble, turning your back to the table and walking away.

“You better!” she calls back, right before she picks up another slice of pizza. 

     The walk back to the office is short, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Your heart races as you imagine what’s ahead; how Andy will react and if he’ll even be there. You wonder if he’ll just fire you on the spot — he’d tell you to pack up and go work for Neal and never tell anyone to call him as a reference. 

Briefly, you wonder what made Andy go to Neal’s in the first place. Yes, you’re sure he’s reading your emails. But every part of you is unsure of why he would feel the need to go down there. Maybe, you think, he’s begging Neal to take you. That thought alone is enough to deepen your frown.

By the time the elevator doors slide open, you’re sure everyone around you can hear your heart pounding. You’re convinced you’ll be jobless by the end of the day and homeless by the end of the month. Bravely, you puff out your cheeks and round the corner anyway, telling yourself to take it like a champ. 

What you don’t expect to find is Andrew Barber sitting at your desk with his tie tugged loose and his head buried in his laptop screen. His fingers type furiously, and only when you step forward does he look up and notice you. 

Immediately, he stands, his eyes scanning over every inch of you before he swallows and speaks. 

“Hi.”

You can tell by his eyes that he wants to say more, but he’s holding back. You purse your lips and squirm where you stand while Andy clears his throat loudly.

“Hi,” you reply.

“How was your lunch?” he asks, still watching every move you make. 

Your brows furrow, and with the impatience and the desperation to get everything out in the open, you shake your head. 

“Listen, Andy—”

“How much do you want?”

The question makes you freeze. His eyebrows form a line as a sort of serious scowl spreads across his face. After a few seconds, you draw back, listening to your heel tap against the floor.

“What?”

He takes a step forward, placing his hands on his hips, “To stay. How much do you want to stay here and work for me? Give me a number.”

Your jaw drops. His eyes never leave yours, and soon, you’re staring up at him through your lashes as he takes several more steps to close the space between the two of you.

“Andy—” you start, but he shakes his head. 

“A number, Y/N,” he repeats, softer this time, “Any number.”

You scoff before you can help it, “Any number?”

“Any number,” he confirms.

He watches you roll your eyes, and when you focus on him again, you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“So, if I asked you for a twenty percent raise—”

“Done.”

Your eyes widen, “Andy, that’s—”

“I know how much it is,” he stops you, his voice matter-of-fact, “Will twenty percent satisfy you? Keep you here?”

Your instinct is to hug him. To gush and smile and tell him just how much twenty percent will impact your life. Before you say anything, you remember what you’d told Ana before. Licking your lips, you set your bag down on your desk and look up at him. 

“There’s one other thing,” you say quietly, the words coming out shyer than anticipated. 

“Tell me,” he demands. 

You smile when the phone starts to ring on your desk. Andy doesn’t flinch, but he watches as you glance at it. 

“Stop reading my emails,” you fire at him. 

Just as his eyes widen and his body stills, you move around him and reach for the phone. He’s still busy when you pick it up. 

“Andy Barber’s office, how may I help you?”

His back is still to you, and you’re busy studying it before you realize the client on the other end of the phone is speaking to you. With a shake of the head, you turn your focus to the call and smile as you figure out just what they need. 

“Yes sir, just one moment and I’ll transfer you to Mr. Barber.”

You see Andy’s back muscles tense, and slowly, he spins around. You lean over your desk and place the call on hold, then look up at him. 

His eyes follow you as you move around your desk, close his laptop, and hold it out for him to take. You’re used to Andy’s silence, but this time, you feel as if you’re the one in control. Wordlessly, he accepts his laptop and clenches his jaw, eyeing the blinking light on the phone as if it’s slowly killing him. 

“Line two,” you say, your voice cocky. 

Andy’s jaw hardens even more. He swallows roughly, takes one more look over you, then turns and walks into his office without another word. You bite down on your bottom lip to hide a smile and suck in a deep breath — the first one you’ve ever taken in this office, it feels like. Suddenly, nothing seems intimidating anymore. 

You’ve got Andy Barber wrapped around your finger. It seems you always have. That’s what brings the smile to your face as you sit down in your chair, ready to work hard for that extra twenty percent. 

     Andy only sees two more clients before the end of the day, but he remains in his office in between them. He doesn’t even use the restroom. The only time you see him is when you bring clients into his office and offer up coffee, which Andy denies both times. You see the way his eyes linger on you for just a moment too long, and you’re sure it’s because he’s debating his investment; trying to figure out if you’re really worth twenty percent more just to get coffee and sit outside his office playing Candy Crush when he’s in meetings. Yet, no part of you seems to care. He caved quickly on the raise, and you’ll take every bit of it. 

     You stay ten minutes past five o’clock for no reason. That ten minutes consists of reorganizing the sticky notes on your calendar and sorting your colored pens into a rainbow. Selfishly, you want Andy to come out of his office. You want him to explain the emails; to apologize. 

To see Andy Barber apologize would be a sight. 

With a huff, you stand from your chair and collect your things. You can’t help but stare at Andy’s closed door and wonder if he ever stops working. Briefly, you consider knocking and asking if he needs anything before you go. Then, you fear he’ll ask why you’re here past five. Shaking your head, you place your bag over your shoulder and grab your jacket, then let your heels tap against the floor as you walk out. 

The building is pretty much empty, save a few lawyers working in conference rooms or making copies to prepare for their days tomorrow. You take a breath as you hit the button for the elevator, surprised when the doors open immediately. You step inside and hit the button for the ground floor, watching the doors pull shut. Just before they meet, an arm stops them. They open again, and your eyes widen at the sight of Andy Barber, ready to leave the office at a decent hour. 

His lips tip up as he takes you in, doing a once-over before he steps silently into the elevator. You scoot over out of instinct and look down at the floor — all sense of power from earlier seems to have disappeared because of this ambush. You notice how his tie has been removed completely and his suit jacket is hung over his arm, leaving him only in a blue button-down that works wonders for his eyes. 

The doors close and the silence is deafening; to the point where you wonder if there’s never been any music on this elevator. 

All at once, Andy clears his throat and speaks, staring straight ahead as he does. 

“I wasn’t reading your emails to violate your privacy,” he says, his voice even.

You hate that he doesn’t elaborate or explain, but instead, waits for a response from you. 

“Why, then?”

He takes a breath, “My old assistant was sending out personal information about me and lost me a bunch of clients. Before I hired you, I installed a screening program. You work for me. Any email you send that includes my name shows up on my computer. It’s purely precautionary.”

Spinning on your heel, you turn and face him, narrowing your eyes. He glances over and sees your expression, and you swear he suppresses a smile at the sight. 

“So, you’ve seen everything I’ve said about you?” you question, trying to figure out exactly what that might be.

He nods, swallowing roughly, “I never meant to make you cry, Y/N.”

You feel your stomach drop at the thought of Andy knowing you cried over how mean he was to you. 

“That’s how you knew so much about my date,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him.

“Yes,” he confirms. 

The doors to the elevator open, and Andy gestures for you to exit first. You do, letting your heels click as your brain runs wild. He follows you out and through the lobby, then out the front doors that will lead to both of your cars. 

“What happened to your old assistant?” you ask him, watching his blue eyes meet yours. 

His brows furrow, “What do you mean?”

You shrug and look out onto the road, noting all of the traffic of people trying to get home. You wonder what it would be like to have someone waiting on you.

“Did you ever, like, take her to court for what she did?”

He smirks, “You could say that.”

“What does that mean?” you question, staring up at him. 

With a shrug, Andy answers you while also eyeing the same traffic you’d been looking at just a moment before. 

“I divorced her,” he replies, then gives you a tight smile, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

He leaves you standing in shock on the sidewalk, jaw hanging slack and heels cemented into the sidewalk. 

     With this new information that Andy’s provided you, no part of you wants to go home and find an empty living room, empty kitchen, empty bed. So, sighing in defeat, you start down the path to one of the many bars that line the downtown area. 

You find one that’s not too crowded and wander in, all while your head spins with this new information from Andy. You had absolutely no idea that his wife used to be his assistant, and part of you wonders how that ever even worked. 

You find a seat and order a drink without thinking twice, desperate for it to take your mind off of the way he looked standing beside you in the elevator. You recall his little smile, his remarks, and his gentlemanly actions even when he doesn’t seem to care much for you. 

Maybe he does, you think, but before you can examine that too much, the bartender sets your drink down in front of you. Picking it up, you swallow about half of it in a few seconds, hoping it will melt some of these thoughts away. 

“Barber’s got you drinking on a Tuesday?”

You perk at the sound of Andy’s last name and turn, finding none other than Neal Loguidice standing behind you with a drink in his hand. Your heart sinks but you give him a tight smile anyway, then nod. 

“Yeah, long day,” you reply, attempting to turn around again when he steps beside you. 

“Same here,” he answers, “Your boss came in and gave me an earful this afternoon. Do you know why?”

You bite your tongue to keep from blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, and instead, you finish off the remainder of your glass. 

“No,” you lie. 

Neal laughs and slides into the chair beside you, “He thought I was going to hire you. Which, given your resume, I’m greatly considering.”

You swallow and turn to face him, watching the way his lips twist up into a smile at the thought of you being interested in his proposal.

“It was actually a miscommunication,” you inform him, “Everything is fine and I am staying where I am. Andy’s a great boss.”

You know you’re pushing the envelope, but some part of you feels protective. Neal raises your defense, at least enough that you don’t want him to know any of the hardships you’ve faced with Andy. 

“Really?” Neal chuckles, “You look exhausted every time I see you. I figured you had enough.”

“No, I’m fine,” you reply politely, then signal for the bartender to get you your check. No part of you wants to entertain him for another minute. 

“Put it on mine,” Neal tells the bartender, “And, we’ll have another round.”

“No, we won’t,” you speak up, standing, “I really should get home.”

“Already?”

You ignore him at first and place your purse on your shoulder, then turn around. Your smile is more forced, less genuine, but Neal doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Yes. Andy’s in court tomorrow and there’s a lot I need to prepare for him,” you reply, “Thank you for the drink. Have a good night.”

You hear Neal scoff, but you don’t look back to hear any of his comments. Instead, you walk right out the door, right to your car, and you head home. To the empty living room, empty kitchen, empty bed. 

You pour yourself a glass of wine and use a roll of pre-made cookie dough to make cookies, then sit on the couch while you work on Andy’s notes for tomorrow. Every ounce of energy goes to not noticing how lonely and quiet your apartment seems to feel lately, and once the bottle of wine is gone and the cookies are only crumbs, do you crawl into bed. 

As you lay under the cold sheets, wide awake, you let your mind drift off, wondering if Andy Barber is doing the same thing in his home. You wonder if he gets lonely. 

Just before you fall asleep, you wonder if Andy Barber thinks about what you’re doing at that very moment. Your arm flinches as you want to reach for your phone, but instead, you turn around and put your back to your nightstand. 

It’s just loneliness, you think. Like all else, it will pass. 

And just before you fall asleep, convincing yourself that it’s not Andy you miss, but the company of another person, you realize that you’ll be lonelier than ever tomorrow with Andy in court for the majority of the day. 

With that in mind, the possibility of having feelings for Andrew Barber doesn’t seem so far off. In fact, to you, it seems completely plausible.

Tags:

@goldenjo @onmykneesforrafe @r0und3bitch @bellsnuit @infatuatedjanes @swthxrry @royalwritersoftheuniverse

[pinkandpurple360]

if I can 'devil's advocate' (heh) for ParanoidDJ for a sec, I just wanna put the song in context

so it originally dropped shortly after s1e6 came out, & you can probably still see some of that by the comments where fans joke that he 'saw the future' or 'was ahead of the curve' because a good number of fans didn't think Stolas had any romantic feelings for Blitzo at all before ep7 & that it was just lust (in hindsight that was another soft retcon that Stolas was suddenly in love w/Blitzo - that 'development' really ought to have been onscreen and then the audience might have bought into his sudden change of heart).

he mentions in the description that Stolas 'realizes his own actions have caused the problem' and I think that's what PDJ was trying to do - his songs tend to try and flesh out characters or fill in bits the canon hadn't yet. I can definitely see why people say it seems like Stolas apologia but it did come out back when the show was in s1 and it hadn't started playing the Stolas Did Nothing Wrong card as hard as it did in s2 (plus Loo Loo Land Stolas at least seemed aware that the divorce was affecting Via, even if he totally failed to articulate what was going on with him when she was upset), so it feels more like an attempt at a potential direction Stolas could have gone with the setup ep1-6 had provided.

I can't say for sure of course, but I think PDJ was aware that Stolas is the problem (or at least part of the problem, idk if he's ever spoken about stol/tz publically) and was just following what arc the show seemed to be setting up with him (and then it promptly didn't in s2, since nothing is ever Stolas' fault now apparently)

it's why it's so annoying to see the lyrics changed - PDJ's Stolas actually gave a darn about Via and seemed to realize at least part of what he'd done wrong, while keeping him mostly in character by preserving his classist attitudes that he needs to work through (the repeat of the impish plaything line)

official video Stolas is whitewashed and whiny. personally I think it's a small miracle Viv even kept the line 'I will try to make amends/for making you means to an end' since it directly refers to what actually happened - Stolas used Blitzo for sex.

but I assume Viv left that line in because she wants it to mean 'Blitzo seduced Stolas so Stolas used him right back' instead of what actually happened: 'Stolas used the threat of losing his job and the pressure of being shot at to coerce Blitzo into monthly sex'

this is all how I remember it from back when the song came out, though - I could be totally wrong, but as far as I know Paranoid has never said he likes stol/tz or thinks it's 'mututally toxic' or anything like what stans usually say

Oof I guess I was too hard on him. I do appreciate you typing this out and adding some context. But then again before episode seven…stolas was an absolute monster towards Blitzø and the rest of imp. He was only kind to Octavia, the same species as him. But to everyone else he was and honestly still is, just purely awful.

I definitely feel like him and all of us, if we are honest, saw a lot more kindness and good traits in stolas than are actually there. I still hold that stolas at the end of ep 6 and the stolas at the start of episode 7 are not the same character at all. Plus, having us see Blitz be enslaved by him, and then tongue kiss him after, all that said to me was that he’s allowing himself to be sexually objectified because he thinks it’s all he deserves. I was actually really shocked that he kissed him, it was such a bizarre contradiction to the intimidation, abuse, and a mutual hatred, we had just seen. Then he asked for a reward…? So strange.

And season 2 stolas is yet again another character. When he wears his hat he’s his usual gross self then the hat comes off and he’s a wimp. If what I’ve heard is true he gets even more soft and pathetic and sopping wet cat-like. I just have no idea what he adds to the story other than taking us on a self pitying emotional detour we didn’t ask for. With none of the introspection paranoid DJ thought he would show. I’m sorry but Stella was kindve right, it is annoying.

Taking out the Octavia lyrics is unbelievable!!! It makes him look so so bad but this is supposed to be his woobie arc, so what gives?

Also I wont stop reiterating that stolas led Blitzø to his bedroom by force and locked him in there. Blitzø thought he was going to kill him, he was scared, creeped out, and actually did try to negotiate out of it but was told not to bother with excuses. I honestly don’t care that he tried to survive by faking seduction. Don’t forget he said “ew” at the idea, and then “alright fine” which is just so gross…

This is all speculation because I’ve heard nothing about what happens in Full Moon—but-I don’t really believe he’ll try and make “amends” the next episode is going to be stolas emotionally manipulating him into “choosing” the book (him, having free sex and a fan to praise and coddle him) or the crystal (a life on his own) it’s going to be really hard to watch. And Viv despite what she’s written of him being creeped out terrified and grossed out by stolas will try sell us that the sex with stolas was great. Even though everything he says and does points to the opposite.

I mean it is pretty clearly a pro stolitz song and that’s what it was used for