#he's justified honestly but he's still a prick like come on man be nice :(

[monty-glasses-roxy]

So who is in Sewerhell exactly?

Everyone but the latest versions of Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Monty, Roxy, Sunny, Moon, DJ and the Minis, though honestly there's probably a few Minis down there too ngl.

Sewerhell is where all previous versions of those animatronics go, along with any other animatronics that have previously been in the Plex specifically. So you have a handful of Glamrock Freddy's, a bunch of Chica's, a bunch of Cupcakes, some Foxy's, some random non-sentient guys I made up like The Breaker, hordes of Staffbots, faulty endos, failed robotics projects, and whatever else ends up in there. Like book guys with my own spin on them I think there's like... well I can only think of one animatronic from the books I put in there right now but there's probably someone else I'm forgetting lmao

An askblog with everyone from Sewerhell would be so confusing because you'd have an ever growing cast of multiple of the same guys over with a sliding spectrum of design differences, but it would also be pretty funny with some of the dynamics I already have in mind for some of these guys lmao

AND if set in the Sewercontrol universe, the latest version of Roxy we all know and love can be there. I just had the thought before I got this ask that if I were to lose my marbles and even attempt a funny askblog, it'd be set after Sewercontrol so I wouldn't have to navigate any of that on an askblog of all things lmao, but it would mean I'd have to you know... write the fucking thing first??? Terrible. Awful. The universe is so cruel like that.

Anyway, if you wanna know who specifically is in Sewerhell (like how many Freddy's or non-current characters like Foxy) I can make another post for that if you want buddy I just started typing this without the doc with the list of them in open lmao

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[baepsaesbae]

Parang Kape Ko. Bittersweet. || Just Like My Coffee. Bittersweet

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— Fluff/Romance, Enemies to Lovers au, coffee shop au

Warnings— None

Word Count— 1.8k

Summary— You work at a coffee shop with the most annoying person ever. Kim Taehyung. 

A/N— Thank you @kitsutaes​ for requesting! I hope you like it darling. You can still request drabbles up until the end of the August with this post

You couldn’t quite place it. Something about Taehyung made your skin crawl since the very first day you laid eyes on him. To make matters worse, your manager kept pairing you together for nearly every shift (she couldn’t help it, she thought you guys looked cute together).

You despised the way girls would giggle and try to subtly give him their number after ordering their drink. You rolled your eyes every time he’d wink and flirt back with them. Each shift with just the two of you was unbearable. 

Taehyung was naturally a player, anyone could see that. Women would swoon from a mere flash of a smile. They’d be putty in his hands with a simple wink. That being said, Taehyung was so taken aback when his charms didn’t work on you. He couldn’t figure out what he did to tick you off, but it seemed like you didn’t like him from the start. That was a concept he couldn’t fathom. 

It was like a never ending game of tag that you didn’t want to play, and you couldn’t risk Taehyung finally catching up to you. The more you showed your disdain for Taehyung, the more intrigued he’d be by you, thus spurring him to pester you even more. 

“Hey grumpy grump! How was your weekend?” Taehyung greeted you as you clocked in.

“It was fine. Yours?” you replied with indifference.

“It was chill, kinda lowkey. I actually found a cool hole in the wall restaurant that I thought maybe we could--”

“I’m busy,” you interrupted without looking at him.

“But I didn’t even say when--”

“You don’t need to. I’m very busy all the time,” you walked away to prep the machines before Taehyung could even reply. 

“C’mon, just give me a chance! It doesn’t even have to be a date. I genuinely want to get to know you. Why do you hate me so much?” Taehyung pouted as he followed you around like a lost puppy. 

“Prep the tables and chairs, please,” you commanded without acknowledging his whining.

“Yes ma’am. See? I’m such a good boy, I always listen to you,” he called out from across the cafe as he unstacked chairs. 

You ignored him. This was your normal routine every time you worked with Taehyung. He seemed to get a thrill every time he riled you up, so you’ve learned not to give him the satisfaction. Straight up ignoring him was the best way to go. 

Taehyung became preoccupied with taking orders once the customers started piling in. You absentmindedly made the drinks, a task that you could now do with your eyes closed. You thought about what Taehyung said. Sure, he’s an annoying prick who knows he’s too handsome for his own good, but does that really justify your hatred for him?

You hated to admit it, but Taehyung is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Your heart fluttered every time he teased you, and though you gave off the impression that you wouldn’t care if he disappeared off the face of the Earth, you were secretly pleased with the attention he gave you. On occasion, you’ve caught glimpses of random girls glaring at you while Taehyung was messing around with you. 

You shook your head as you powered up the blender to make a double mocha frappe with 2 extra shots of espresso. What the hell were you thinking? This is exactly why you don’t like Taehyung. He lives in your mind rent free. 

“I think that frappe is blended enough,” Taehyung observed. He appeared out of nowhere, startling you.

“You good?” he asked with a hint of concern.

“I’m fine,” you answered curtly as you handed him the drink. 

“Frappe for Tiffany!” Taehyung called out before returning his attention to you, “I was serious earlier by the way. This little game of ours is fun, but I honestly want to get to know you. Plus, you never actually talk to me so I don’t know what I did to make you hate my guts or whatever. Unless you’re like a massive introvert or something. I’d respect that of course, but like I said I literally wouldn’t know that because you never talk to me so--”

“Okay! Fine! I’ll go with you to that stupid restaurant. Will you finally shut up now?” you snapped. 

“Aw, so you do listen when I talk to you. It’s a date! Or not, that’s up to you. You free after this shift?” he lifted his eyebrows with excitement. 

“Yeah,” you begrudgingly nodded. 

The rest of the shift flew by with the nonstop stream of customers. The morning rush is always tough, but Taehyung handled the flow perfectly every time. His demeanor calms even the most irate caffeine addicted customers.

“I’m starving,” Taehyung announced as he clocked out. 

“What kind of food does the restaurant serve?” you asked as your stomach rumbled.

“Hamburgers!” Taehyung beamed. 

“Cool. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” you say as you head towards your car.

“Wait! It’s actually not too far from here. There’s no need to take two vehicles,” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you wanna ride in my car?” you asked quizzically. 

“Actually I wanted to take you for a ride. On my bike,” he quickly added.

“Sure I guess. You got a little basket for me to ride in or something?” you attempted to be friendly. 

“Not quite. I don’t have a spare helmet, but I can assure you that I’m a safe driver,” he says as he leads you to his parking spot.

“You have a moped?” you asked in shock. You couldn’t help but smile at the cute little lavender moped that Taehyung probably zips around on every day.

“Yeah, I love this little sucker. It used to be my sister’s, that’s why it’s purple. But it’s badass on the streets,” Taehyung patted the seat.

“So where am I sitting?” you asked even though you already knew the answer. 

“You’d be safest sitting behind me. You can hold onto me if you’d like. For safety reasons, of course,” he smiled. 

You climbed onto the moped after him. You didn’t want to hold onto him, but you whimpered and quickly wrapped your arms around him as soon as he took off. The tiny moped was surprisingly fast, and since it was so small, you could practically feel every bump on the road. 

Taehyung smirked as you hung onto him tightly. “Cute,” he thought. 

Taehyung’s scent enveloped you as you leaned into his back. You’ve grown accustomed to his smell since you were always together at work, but being up close and personal with him was a different story. He had a comforting smell that made you want to snuggle up to him even more. You wondered which cologne he was wearing, just in case you wanted to pick it up for yourself. 

You felt how solid his torso was as you clung to him. Your thoughts lingered to his earlier question yet again. Why did you hate him so much? He really didn’t seem like a bad guy. In fact, the opposite is true. Sure he could be a bit flirty, but he was also always kind and gentle. You realized that he never flirted with the customers first, he simply returned their energy. 

“We’re here!” Taehyung happily announced.

He led you into a small restaurant that appeared to be family owned. The owners greeted Taehyung by his first name, indicating that he’s probably a regular customer. 

“Welcome in! And who’s this lovely lady you brought with you?” the man greeted. 

“Taehyung! Is this this coffee shop girl? She’s just as gorgeous as you said she wa--” his wife began to ramble until Taehyung cut her off.

“I’ll have two of the usuals please. Oh, and two sodas. Thanks guys,” Taehyung ordered quickly before bringing you over to a small table in the corner. 

“How much do I owe you?” you inquired as you took out your wallet.

“Nothing. This is my treat. I’m surprised you finally agreed to hangout with me,” Taehyung smiled as he shifted his weight in his chair.

“What was that lady saying before you ordered?” you tilted your head.

“She uh, was telling me about the daily special,” Taehyung lied.

“No she wasn’t. I was right next to you, Taehyung. Am I the coffee shop girl?” you teased, delighted that the tables have turned. 

“I mean you are a girl and you do work in a coffee shop. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re THE coffee shop girl…” Taehyung was flustered. 

“Is this a date or are we just hanging out?” you pressed further. 

“Which would you like it to be?” Taehyung retorted.

“I asked first,” you countered.

“I guess I can’t argue with that. I would prefer this to be a date. But since you hate me I’d happily settle for us just hanging out,” he admitted. 

“I wouldn’t say that I hate you…” you trailed off.

“Oh really? Then why do you always ignore me and only talk to me to boss me around. I find that hot by the way, but we don’t have to get into that right now,” he smirked. 

“I...I don’t know. Your face always bothered me I suppose,” you answered thoughtfully. 

“My face?” Taehyung burst out into a fit of laughter, “___, am I so ugly that you just can’t stand being around me?”

“The opposite actually. Oh what the hell, we’re here anyway. You’re so goddamn handsome it’s aggravating. You’re so nice it’s unnerving. And when you talk to me it’s like you’ve known me forever. If I didn’t act so cold towards you I would’ve fallen for you so easily,” you finally got everything off of your chest.  

An awkward silence filled the room and you began to regret coming clean. The owner came by with the burgers and you noticed the ketchup was done in the shape of a heart.

“Damn,” was all that Taehyung replied after a while.

You silently nodded as you bit into your burger. 

“I’m glad I kept bugging you then. I thought you were a cutie during orientation. I knew you weren’t actually a bitch because I’ve seen the way you interact with people who aren’t me. You’re such a sweetheart. Also please don’t think I’m a creep for watching you at work sometimes,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sorry for being so cold towards you. I’m not really good with processing emotions and all that,” you blushed, “But now that everything's out in the open, I’d be willing to let my walls down I guess.” 

“Sure. We can take it one date at a time. And maybe you could actually talk to me at work?” Taehyung gave you big puppy eyes.

“Maybe. I’ll see what I can do,” you failed to suppress a smile.

Kim Taehyung might not be too shabby after all.

Published August 9th, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 60 Rundown

Code Geass: Oh this episode is ROUGH like I thought I was over this kind of blatant emotional manipulation of killing the kindest character in the series in the cruelest way possible because anime storytelling has evolved a lot in the past decade or so but I AM NOT. The way Euphy’s death is juxtaposed over Lelouch’s war cry and Suzaku’s futile attempts to assure her that all her hopes for peace bore fruit and her realizing she’s going to die and breaking free of Lelouch’s control for one last confession to Suzaku made me FUCKING WEEP. Like not even Lelouch’s stupidly named United State of Japan could cheer me up after that, this bit here really is peak Code Geass, with Lelouch marching on Tokyo, ready to face Suzaku’s justified rage and ready to accept either outcome because he knows he has to do what he has to do but also feels he should definitely die for killing Euphy is fucking great. Like I don’t hate R2 the way some people do but this is where the series was at its best.

Inuyasha: The filler half of the Tsubaki arc finally comes to a close, there’s a fun little fight with Kagura and a zombie samurai from nowhere that has Kagura weakening the Wind Scar so Kagome and Sango have to run interference to make sure Inuyasha can actually hit the thing, it’s very short but kinda fun considering the girls tend to get sidelined a lot. Then giant ogre Tsubaki goes on a rampage and even tanks a Wind Scar, the irony here is the only thing that even slightly damages her is Kagome’s Sacred Arrow, so Kagome’s MVP overall. Gotta let Inuyasha get the kill though so the Backlash Wave destroys the giant ogre body and Tsubaki falls out like she’s controlling a Titan instead of her body being transformed, but somehow destroying the ogre also destroys the original demonic power she made a pact with to keep her young so she reverts to 70 years old and for some reason turns to dust to relieve Inuyasha of the duty of murdering a human while Kagura yoinks the jewel back. Honestly this little scheme was a HUGE gamble for Naraku to risk his 96% complete sacred jewel on cause Tsubaki just up and left with that shit. That being said I liked the little filler touches to try and make Tsubaki more fleshed out, it doesn’t really make her relatable or understandable by any means but it does paint her as someone who used to be innocent before her jealousy and vanity corrupted her and Naraku was able to take hold of that and use her.

Yu Yu Hakusho: The eight finalists of the Genkai tournament fight in the dark in what is the not Dark Tournament. The first couple of ninjas and assassins take each other out in ways that are easy to animate since no one can see anything. Botan shows up to run exposition through Yusuke and Kuwabara is filled in on the situation just in time for his fight with the Samurai that instead of using a real sword and just killing him, uses a wooden spirit sword and smacks him around for a while until he can break part of the sword and make his own spirit sword which they didn’t even try to not use lightsaber sounds for. Yusuke then fights the dude who just happened to pack a see in the dark helmet just in case they had to fight in the dark, boy that sure paid off. And last but not least the preview for the next episode is all “Man Yusuke’s having a tough time fighting this ninja guy, oh wait that’s the next match, I mean he’s fighting the helmet guy, forget that I just spoiled that he wins this, remember the tension!”

Unlimited Blade Works: Shirou continues fighting Archer and they go back and forth a lot without saying anything new, basically Archer says life is shit and Shirou’s a white knight idiot with no character traits and Shirou doesn’t disagree with this but because he’s a shonen protagonist he can’t just NOT be a stubborn self-sacrificing idiot, so he’s gonna keep on keeping on. Meanwhile Lancer doesn’t die when he’s killed and kills Priest Alucard and then dies for real and Shinji goes back to molesting Rin like that didn’t just happen except Lancer STILL doesn’t die when he’s killed and gives Shinji a little prick to go with what he is and THEN Lancer dies for real (probably) and wants to burn Priest Alucard’s body with him which if you have to go that far idk if you can really say for sure he’s dead but Rin’s fine and Shirou’s a moron so it’s okay.

Panty and Stocking: Okay so we got a decent pair of episodes this time, some of these have been hit or miss but I quite liked these two, a generic but cute zombie parody around the time that was starting to really heat up and probably one of the earlier “Kill Zombies with Sex Toys” genre (I can’t believe that’s an actual thing but it is) and then a trial by gameshow episode with a delightful Ace Attorney monkey and a solution that I saw coming but wasn’t immediately apparent so I felt smart for figuring it out beforehand. Overall these “Daemon Sisters have some Team Rocket scheme to kill Pant and Stocking” episodes are turning out fairly well, the series is growing on me the more it goes on. Also the ghosts in the trial episode are Ren and Stimpy for some reason.

FMA Brotherhood: Mustang refuses to do Human Transmutation to save Riza, making him the like one character in all of anime where the “I doomed the world to save someone I loved” thing doesn’t fly. Unfortunately we still have a plot to move forward with so Pride sacrifices a huge amount of his stone to force Mustang through and take his eyesight. Meanwhile Scar starts fighting Bradley in the ‘weird powers but insanely good martial arts skills” bout and May just kinda ditches everyone to go confront Father with Ed and the others while Al selflessly comes back to fight, dooming everyone by reawakening as the final sacrifice, it’s okay Al you tried, doubt you could’ve hid out in the portal of truth all day anyway.

Attack on Titan: The final episode of Season 3 (and for the purposes of this block the final episode I’ll be watching since Season 4 is/was on regular Toonami very recently) Everyone finally reaches the sea but Eren’s pissed because he knows across it there’s just racism and shitty ideas, ngl I feel him, I’m kinda pissed about it to. Floch almost has a few moments of being kinda nice and relatable but has to fuck it up every time by being an asshole at the last minute. It’s really nice seeing everyone playing in the water one last time though before the joyless venture that is the Final Season, rewatching the series as a whole has just made me realize it was never completely bleak until the last season and just makes me kinda mad  that we couldn’t have something a little more balanced in the end.

[multisfabulis]

Savior of Monsters

Word Count: 1776

TW: Major character death

You ever have an idea brewing around in your head for who knows how long until you finally gain the confidence to bring it into existence? This fic is that in a nutshell.

So I've had this idea of writing the Asgore fight in his POV for almost 4 years and it only came about because I was listening to one of the many ASGORE songs up on YouTube one day and the visual of his hand shaking as he's about to strike Frisk down came out to me and it was over. The reason it took so long for this fic to even exist was because I didn't have much confidence in myself as a writer back then and it was because of me posting my original fics I slowly gained that confidence to finally write this.

A LOT of this dips into headcanon territory and it's not written in an RPG-like format because I honestly do not know how I'd write that without it seeming clunky. Either way, I hope you enjoy reading this!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     The shimmering light of the barrier filled the room. Asgore stood facing the human, dreading what he would do next. He really didn’t want to do it, especially to a child that seemed to be the spitting image of Chara. But if monsters had any hope of leaving the underground and going to the surface, then he had to do it. So…

     “Human…” They had a sad expression on their face. “It was nice to meet you. Goodbye.”

     He bowed his head and drew out his crimson trident. He trained it on the human, causing them to draw their own weapon. It was a dagger, adorned with several pockmarks on the hilt and a dull blade. He remembered it belonging to Chara whenever they would help him with gardening. Memories of that time began to rush into his head but he forced them back.

     They stood there in silence. Then he raised his trident up slightly, wanting the human to deliver the first strike. They shook their head and he knew at that moment he’d need to force them into attacking him.

     Large fireballs appeared on both sides of the human and homed in on them. They barely managed to dodge them but not before the flames licked their body. He repeated the motion he did earlier to try and goad the human into attacking him. They gave him the same answer.

     Waves of smaller fireballs swarmed them. They ducked and weaved through the fire, the flames leaving scorch marks on their clothes. His hands trembled for just a moment, realizing how close he was to burning them. He burned the six children before them and the guilt threatened to eat him alive at every waking moment. This was for the sake of monsterkind but nothing could justify the loss of six innocent souls who had simply fallen down and came to him so they could leave. He didn’t believe it did at the first child and he certainly didn’t believe it did now.

     Smaller waves of fireballs attempted to block them in for giant hordes of fire to come swallow them whole. His breathing got shaky as the blaze moved closer and closer to them, beads of sweat forming on their brow from the intense heat. The human was luckily able to leap out before they were incinerated but it was too close for comfort. Yet they still refused to fight back.

     It was then he had enough and swung his trident. If using his magic wouldn’t work, he may as well physically strike them. The prongs of the trident hit the blade of the dagger, the human parrying the blow before finally thrusting the dagger into his abdomen. The pain was insignificant at best but the expression on their face was one of remorse.

     It reminded him of the time Asriel and Chara tried to bake him a butterscotch pie and ended up poisoning him instead. Chara had laughed the entire time he was sick but he knew they felt guilty. It was after the ordeal was over they apologized to him and the look on their face was almost the same as the human’s now. Was fighting this child who looked like one of his own his punishment for failing them?

     That was when the fight really began. He’d hurl wave after wave of fireballs at them and they’d try to dodge them each and every time. Even as the flames left more and more of their mark on them, they managed to skirt past the greater danger. The only way they’d attack him was when he’d do it first. It made him feel more like a villain than he already was.

     This fight, along with the previous six, were nothing like the ones he had with humans before, the time they and monsters lived alongside each other. He had just been crowned king, if only because monsters were in need of a powerful leader to aid them in the war, and he tried desperately to push the humans back. No matter how many he’d strike down with his furious might, their comrades would save them by slaying many more monsters. He watched countless brethren crumble to dust and the wind carry their ashes to a place far beyond his comprehension. He hated humans for driving him and the survivors of his kind into the underground. It was only through the passage of time and his time on the throne his hatred of them had dissipated. Then they had killed his remaining child, Asriel.

     He and Toriel had been so lost in their grief over losing Chara that they hadn’t noticed him leaving with their body. It was when he came back as another monster entirely they realized what he had done. After setting his sibling down, he crumbled to dust, a sight Asgore never wanted to see again. How could they? Wasn’t it enough to have killed most of his kind and forced the rest into hiding? They had to kill his son, his sweet boy, and for what? He became so enraged that he declared war on humanity and vowed to destroy all the humans in an act of vengeance. Not just for him but for every monster whose lives they’ve worsened because of their actions. Any human that fell into the underground would be shown no mercy.

     Now he was tired. Tired of waiting, tired of killing, tired of his kingdom looking to him for hope and having to pretend he’s their savior when he’s not. He made that declaration in a fit of inconsolable anger and he wishes he could take it back. He doesn’t want to kill anymore. How many more innocents’ blood will stain his hands until the war is over?

     The room was now filled with smoldering embers and cinders. The light from the barrier left the room engulfed in a faint orange glow. They stood facing each other, trying to catch their breath as they waited for the other to make their move. He called upon rings of fireballs that took over the whole room to overwhelm the human. It was at that point they cried out in pain from their inflicted burns.

     Damn it, Asgore, what are you doing, he berated himself. He only meant for the fire to graze them, not actually hurt them. Were they just too exhausted to get out of the way in time? As the flames were extinguished, the human fell to their knees, clutching their shoulder and their dagger tossed aside.

     This was his moment, as much as he was dreading it. He walked over to them, trident in hand and eyes focused on the ground. He needed to do this. The kingdom’s pinned their hopes and dreams on him. If he were to fail this now, after everything he’s done to get this far, they’d be forever hopeless. With a heavy heart, he turned the prongs of the trident down, raised it high in the air, and---

     They looked up at him and a memory flashed in his mind. His rosy cheeked, doe-eyed child, Chara, handing him a pink, hand-knit sweater with the words “Mr. Dad Guy” embroidered in yellow thread on it. It was the first and only gift they gave him and it was a treasure he cherished deeply. His hands shook as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t do it. They were too much like Chara and killing them would feel like he’d slain his own child.

     The trident clattered on the ground as he dropped to his knees. He failed. He failed as a father, as a king, as a savior. The human would escape this place and monsters would be doomed to live in their underground prison. He didn’t know which was worse, living on as a broken man or dying as a failure to his people.

     He finally looked at the human. Parts of their clothes were burnt or had scorch marks and some of their face was covered in soot. They were still holding on to their shoulder but they seemed just so tired. Their journey would soon be over. All they’d need was to take his soul and cross the barrier.

     He began telling them his story. His declaration of war, what he planned on using the souls for, how his family became irreparably broken, everything. He never wanted power, wanted to hurt anyone. All he wanted was for everyone to have hope and to see his wife and kids again. He begged, pleaded, with the human to take his soul and leave the underground. A child such as them didn’t deserve to be here any more than they already were so this was best.

     Yet they were merciful. They kicked the dagger away and shook their head vehemently, refusing him. He was utterly confused on why they were choosing to stay here and suffer than live happily on the surface. Did they enjoy their time here in the underground and didn’t want to leave the friends they made? He may not have understood but a glimmer of hope welled up inside him.

     “Human… I promise you…” He reached out a hand towards them. “For as long as you remain here… My wife and I will take care of you as best we can.”

     They could sit in the living room, telling stories and eating butterscotch pie. They could be like a family. Was this what it felt like to have hope again? To be given a new chance at life after trudging through the darkness for so long? They stretched a hand out and had a hopeful expression on their face.

     It quickly turned to one of horror as he felt tiny pellets stab him all at once. In all his years of seeing others disintegrate, now it was his turn to become dust. He was foolish to hope after all the sins he’s carried out. This was the right and just judgment for a monster such as him.

     He should feel sad over knowing he’d be leaving things unfinished, without any closure. Yet it was freeing to have his burdens be lifted off him as he crumbled to dust, his ashes scattered.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 6

Warnings: some fluffy, domestic Tyler ;)

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

When she arrives home at four, she finds her entire family -minus Ovi- fast asleep in the backyard hammock. Tyler with one leg hanging over the edge, Millie tucked under one arm and Tanner under the other, and TJ on top of his chest with his head tucked under his dad’s chin. He is completely at peace; this man that has seen so much, done so much, survived so much. His features soft, body fully relaxed, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Utterly relaxed and content, surrounded by the little human beings that he had had a role in creating.  It was a realization that he remained in awe of even now. Maybe because he didn’t feel as if he deserved that kind of love; these innocent and pure beings who idolized him and loved him unconditionally. Or maybe because he had a hard time believing that someone like him could create something so beautiful. Not once, but four times.  He had once told her, just after Declan was born, that his children were the greatest gifts that anyone had ever given him. And he’d sat there with his minutes old son in his arms, tears in his eyes, thanking her for him. For giving them -as a couple- a chance. For giving him a life that he could be proud of.

“You make me want to be a better man,” he’d admitted, and she’d never heard a more sincere and beautiful compliment in her entire life.

And now here he was, this big, strong man covered in tattoos and scars, out like a light while cuddling the gifts that he treasured so much.

She can’t resist taking a picture with her cell phone. Quickly sending a copy of it to Nik with the words: this is how a total bad ass spends his day off. Then she leaves them, carrying the baby on her hip into the house and laying him down for a nap.  Mac is right by her side; watching every move she makes as if to let her know that that his little human and he’s in charge of making sure everything is done right. And to make sure Declan is protected. And when she leaves, the puppy is yawning loudly and curling into a ball at the side of the crib, ready for his job as nanny.

She relishes the time in a quiet house; not screaming of fighting children, no teething baby whining and crying, no hammering and drilling and whatever noise accompanies reno work.  Just the gentle hums coming from the central air and the refrigerator, the chirping of the birds gathered in the surrounding trees, the slow boil of the kettle.  There is rarely a moment without chaos in their home; a puppy and four kids and a husband that can’t sit still makes for very entertaining times.  So she enjoys every possible second, sipping tea as she leans stomach first against the kitchen island, thumbing through flyers and a stack of bills, doodling on a pad of paper that she’d meant for a grocery list, but can’t be bothered to do the actual work.

The sliding door opens and Tyler steps in, barefoot, yawning loudly and wiping sleep from his eyes.

“Well holy shit,” she grins. “Sleeping beauty awakes. Look at you with your fancy new hair cut, looking sexy as fuck. And it isn’t even my birthday.”

“Early Christmas present. They wanted to shave my beard off, but I told them you’d file for divorce if I walked into the house clean shaven.”

“Never mind divorce. I think that’s grounds for justifiable homicide,” she teases, as he lays a hand on her hip and leans down to kiss her in greeting. “Very nice,” she gushes, and brushes the wayward strands out of his eyes.

“Your daughter says it looks weird.”

“She’s five.  This is a kid that puts mayo and peanut butter together. Now that’s weird. Seriously baby…” she runs a hand through his hair. “…you kind of make me wet.”

He grins. “Doesn’t take much, does it.”

“You seem to have a very odd effect on my insides,” she confirms.

“Odd as in bad, or…”

“Odd as in good. Very good,” she fists the front of his t-shirt and pulls him down into a longer, more intense kiss. And his hands move from her hips to her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls her flush against him.  “Hi, by the way,” she says when they final part.

“Hi,” he presses his lips to her temple and then moves towards the fridge. “So, how’d it go?”

“With my mom or with Jennie? Because both were very…interesting…to say the least.”

“Start with the worst one first. What kind of mood was the Wicked Witch of the West in today?”

“While she was three coffees with baileys and about two gin and tonics into things when I got there. Not that it mellowed her out at all. She was her usual self.”

“Bitchy?” he pulls a beer from the fridge and shuts the door with his hip, twisting off the cap as he joins her at the island, small of his back at the edge of the granite.

“I was going to say catty and miserable, but okay. By the way, talk around the Thanksgiving dinner table may get X rated this year. I told her that we were having a lot of sex.”

He grins, the bottle of beer pressed to his lips. “Well you weren’t lying, so…”

“She had the nerve to bitch at me for not losing all the baby weight. Excuse me? I’ve had four kids in the span of five years. Am I already supposed to be a size three? For one, I’ve never been that small. Ever. Second, I’m still trying to feed a ten-month-old and I’m sorry if I have to eat extra so I make extra for him. Have you seen how much your son can drink?”

“He probably doesn’t even really want the milk. He’s just a boob guy.”

“Oh great. Add to the list of things that make him even more like you. But can you honestly believe her? Ragging me about my weight?”

“Who gives a shit. I think you look amazing. Who cares what she says?”

“She just drives me absolute bat-shit insane. She can never just compliment someone and be a decent person. She has to always get in those little cheap shots that make me want to punch her in the throat. And I know I shouldn’t be saying that about my own mother, but…”

‘She’s your mother but she isn’t a mother,” he reasons. “Because no mother talks to her own child like that. Just because she’s your mother, does not mean you have to take her shit. Just tell her to fuck off. I’ve told her. Which is probably one of the many reasons she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t know you. And for some stupid ass reason, she won’t be bothered to even try.”

“Why stress about it? I don’t.  Let her see the kids. Let her be a grandma. I don’t need to like her or spend time with her.”

“But it would make things a little easier if you did,” Esme points out. “Which isn’t your fault, by the way. She totally caused all of this. And can you believe she still talks to my ex? After everything he’s done? Like, what the hell? And she had the nerve to give him my phone number and our address so…”

Tyler frowns. “She did what now?”

“Something about how he wants to make amends or some bullshit like that.”

 “So she just up and gave him our address? So your ex husband…who is a narcissistic, abusive prick…actually knows where we live? Where our kids live?”

“He’s definitely a narcissistic, abusive prick, but he’s not a homicidal maniac. It’s not like he’s going to come here and hurt the kids.”

“I don’t want him coming here at all.  Why would I want your ex husband coming here where you live with your current husband?”

“Current? You make it sound like there’s going to be others.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. But why would I want him coming here? This is our life. Not his. What if my ex wife showed up out of the blue? You’d flip your shit. And I’m not saying that’s wrong. Because you’d have every right to. Or any of my exes for that matter. Would you want them just showing up?”

“Well Nik just comes by whenever, so…”

“Nik is not an ex. By any stretch of the means.”

“Wasn’t she a booty call? Ex booty call?”

“That was a long time ago. Last time that happened was a year before you and I met. Technically she’s my boss, so I have to answer when she comes over or calls me.  And why are we even talking about Nik? What does Nik have to do with your ex husband being a raging asshole?”

“I honestly didn’t think you’d get this worked up about it,” she admits.

“I don’t like people just coming around my kids. Our kids. You know that. Didn’t we just have to explain this to Ovi last night?”

“This isn’t someone from your past that wants revenge. This isn’t someone whose toes you stepped on and now they want to get back at you. He’s an idiot, but he’s not a psychopath that’s out to hurt children.”

“Okay, so he’s not a psychopath. So after everything he’s done what does that make him? A sociopath?”

“Look at you,” she teases. “Bringing out the big words.”

He scowls.

“You’re not pissed off that he knows where we live. You’re not even pissed at all. You’re jealous.”

He gives a derisive snort. “What’s there to be jealous about? I’m the one that’s married to you now. It’s my bed you’re in every night.”

“You…” she stands in front of him, plucks the bottle of beer from his hand and takes a swig. “… hate the idea of there being men in my past.”

“I know there’s men in your past. It’s not like I was your first. You were married before me. I think that’s a sign that there were guys before me.”

“But you hate it. Don’t you. You can’t stand thinking about me being with anyone else. It just pisses you off when you think about it,” she holds the beer behind her back when he reaches for it. “Admit it. You can’t stand the thought of another guy touching me and kissing me the way you do.”

He gives a cocky smile “No guy can kiss you and touch you the way I do.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But you’re seriously upset about this, aren’t you. You really don’t like thinking about it.”

“I really don’t like thinking about it,” he admits, and reaches around her to grab the beer. “There. You happy? Now you know my weakness. I hate thinking about you being with other people. It pisses me off. And now one of these people are going to just show up on my doorstep. So yeah. I’m a little upset.”

“Awww…baby…” she moves closer, standing between his thighs. “…I like this side of you. The one that lets me know I’m not just the maid and the cook and the baby maker.”

“You’re more than that,” he says. “A lot more than that.”

She kisses him, long and slow and soft. Her arms around his neck and her nails scraping against the edge of his hair line where the strands are the shortest.  Then lays her head against his shoulder, both of his arms loosely circling her waste, the beer bottle cold against the small of her back.

“So how’d the other thing go? With Jennie?”  Tyler had met her once; when G had brought her to a team get together to announce that he was getting married. It felt like a lifetime ago. Two years before he and Esme met. Twenty-four months before everything went to shit and G lost his life in that Bangladesh forest.

“She’s still having a really hard time,” Esme sighs, her cheek still resting against his shoulder. “All of his things are still there. His clothes are still in the closet. Like he’s just going to walk through the front door one day. It’s been five years. But to her it might as well been just five days ago. It hurts my heart. Seeing her like that.”

He presses a kiss to the side of her head, tightens the hold around her waist.

“I felt so stupid. Standing there not knowing what to say or do. What is there to say? I’m sorry? That just seems so…trivial. What does saying sorry even do? Nothing. All it does is show that I’m a total moron when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“You’re not a moron. Far from it.  She was probably just happy to have someone there to talk to.”

“She seemed happy at first. Relieved. But then she just got angry. At me for not staying with him in the forest. At Nik for getting him mixed up in such a huge mess. At you for surviving. I tried telling her that I understand why she’s angry. I was angry for a long time. I mean, I know it’s not the same. You survived. And it hurt. That she’s actually mad about that. That I’m not feeling the same kind of grief that she is.”

“It’s not a personal thing, babe. She’s just hurting. She’s angry, like you said. People say shit when they’re angry. And she’s right. I shouldn’t have survived. But I did for whatever reason. I’m still here. Somehow.”

“Thank god for the miracle of modern medicine,” she declares, but sniffles against him.

“Hey…hey…don’t…” he tangles his fingers in her hair and gently pulls her head back, so she is looking at him. “…we agreed that this was over. That we were never going to talk about it again. As soon as we left Dhaka that second time, it was behind us. So don’t do this. Don’t go back down that road. Because it’s dark and it’s fucking hard and nothing good will come from it.”

“She was just so angry. At all the wrong people. Doesn’t she realize I get it? I’m not the enemy. I start worrying the second Nik calls. And then I worry more when you walk out the door. I worry every time you call to check on us that it’s the last time I’ll hear your voice. And I worry that I won’t see you walk back in the door.”

“I know,” he presses a kiss to her forehead and then pulls her into him, a hand on the back of her neck. “I know you do.”

“I just want this to be over.  I just want this to all be behind us. I just want you home. For good. No more jobs.”

“One more year,” he promises.  “Then I’m all yours. Then we live a normal life. Whatever normal is. Our version of normal.”

“You better not die on me, Tyler Rake. You have twelve months to get through. You better not make it to eleven months and twenty-nine days and die on me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Didn’t you learn that five years ago? If that didn’t kill me, nothing will. You’re stuck with me.”

“There’s worse things,” she reasons, and he holds her face in his hands and places his lips against her forehead.  “I’d miss you if you weren’t around.”

“You’d miss me leaving the toilet seat up and living the empty milk jug in the fridge?”

She nods. “I’d even miss those things. I’ve gotten used to you just being here. To waking up and rolling over and you’re just there. To hearing your voice. I think I take those things for granted. Jennie made me realize how it’s important to never just assume that someone is always going to be there. So thank you. For putting up with my shit. For sticking around when sometimes you probably just want to walk away. I know I’m not an easy person to love.  Just thank you. For being you. And for loving me the way you do.”

Smiling, he pushes her hair behind her ears and kisses her. Not demanding.  Not hungry. Not desperate. Just the languid and soft movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth.

“Twelve months,” he tells her once again. “I promise.”

It sounds sincere.

And it’s almost enough for her to believe him.

***

“Ovi’s gone to Butte again,” Esme says from the passenger seat, as they make the short drive into town.

It’s rare; a night out as a family.  But since he’s been home, Tyler’s been determined to make every moment with his wife and kids count. The conversation about Jennie still reeling from G’s death had hit home. Life while still in the game was extremely unpredictable; you never knew where you going to end up from one week to the next, what dangers lurked around every corner and in dark alleyways, if you were even going to make it home when it was all over.   And if that did happen, he didn’t want his kids’ only memory of him being that he was gone a lot and the majority of their quality time was spent on the phone or through video chats.

“Yeah…” he sighs.  “I know.”

“He must be pretty serious about her if he’s willing to drive back and forth that much. Most guys these days wouldn’t travel three blocks to see someone. It’s too much effort.”

He glances through the rear-view mirror, making sure that little ears aren’t paying attention to the conversation.  They’re paying no mind. Little faces glued to the books or tablets in their hands. “I don’t know about that. I know guys that will drive four hours for a blow job.”

“Speaking from experience?” she grins. “Have you driven that far for one?”

“I would have had to travel all the way from Australia to Colorado if everything had gone right five years ago,” he points. “I mean, not just for the blow job, obviously. As good as they are.”

“Good? Just good? Don’t insult me.”

“I think I’ve already told you…more than once…that you give the best ones I’ve ever had. “But seeing as you’re in the mood to have your ego stroked, I’ll tell you again. I would have travelled from Australia to Colorado for a blow job from you.”

“Maybe I could have been a call girl,” she playfully muses. “If my skills are that good.”

“I’d be your best customer.”

“Baby, you wouldn’t be able to afford me,” she teases, and then laughs and tries to wriggle away when he pinches her thigh. “I would give it to you for free though. Your skills aren’t so bad either.  I’d be willing to give you freebies for those skills. Think Ovi is getting freebies?”

“Not from you, I hope.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you. That is just so wrong in so many ways. I mean from this girl he’s seeing.”

“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman. A grown ass woman.”

“And…”

“And something doesn’t sit right with me. What does she want with a nineteen-year-old?”

“What did you want from someone five years younger?” Esme counters.

“That’s totally different. We were both in our thirties.  I wasn’t an adult and you a teenager still.  I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. He seems too…eager.”

“This coming from a guy who just admitted he would have travelled here all the way from Australia to get head.”

“Totally not the same thing. He’s still a kid. We were adults when we hooked up.  There’s a difference between two consenting adults and a kid and a woman.”

“I know you see him as the same Ovi he was in Dhaka, but that’s five years ago, Tyler. Nineteen is not a kid. He’s an adult. And believe me, I’m having a hard time accepting it myself.  Where did the last five years ago? How did he go from scared little Ovi to running to Butte to get laid Ovi?”

“Jesus,” Tyler frowns. “Really?”

“If you’re this bent out of shape with him being grown up and doing grown up things, wait until it’s one of the kids you helped make. Especially your daughter. You’re going to have a coronary the day she comes home asking to go on birth control.”

“For fuck sakes,” he scowls. “Not this conversation again.”

“Or when she starts her period and I’m not home. What are you going to do then? You’ll freak the hell out. I know you will.”

“You’re never leaving the house when it gets close to things like that.”

“Baby, you’re so cute. You have the skill set you have but you’re scared of your little girl growing up and becoming a woman. That’s probably the only thing you are scared of.”

“There’s a couple other things,” he admits.

Both scenarios involve her and the kids in one way or the other. Being thousands of miles away on a job and some crazy fucker bent on revenge seeking it on them and him having no way to protect them.  Or dying while away on a mission and leaving his entire family behind to go on with life without him. Both kept him up at night.  Both were becoming an obsession.  Even he was getting tired of the near constant travel and the toll the game was taking on his mind and his body.  And that was a point he’d never thought he’d get to.  Where despite the money, the job was nothing but a burden that kept away from the only true things that mattered in his life.

***

They dine at a family friendly Italian place in downtown Telluride. Enjoy the simplicity that comes with just a meal out: the older kids happily colouring on the large sheet of paper covering the tabletop, the baby in the high chair attempting to feed himself torn up pieces of garlic bread, the nursing of alcoholic beverages and the chance for small talk.

It’s a normal existence for once. Just a family out for the evening. There’s no talk of the job, no mention of the drama with her mother, or both Ovi’s new girl. Just those little flirtatious comments and smiles that they still indulge in from time to time. Five years sometimes feels like five days. That they’re still that new couple enjoying every moment together.  They hadn’t really gotten that chance before. Dhaka had gone so horribly bad and they’d never gotten around to executing the plans for travel and simply getting to know each other. Then came a baby and life as a married couple. Hitting the ground running and never really having the time to catch their breath.

But even through all of that, they’d discovered pretty quickly that they weren’t just good at being lovers. But each other’s confidants. Best friends. They actually got along outside of the realm of marriage and parenthood.  Imagine spending fifty years with someone but never really knowing them? One day waking up and realize that if you’d never been with them -romantically and sexually speaking- that you’d probably actually despise one another? So caught up in raising children that once they flew the coop you suddenly realize that you don’t even recognize the person sitting across the dinner table from you? And worse, not even recognizing yourself.

They never worried about those things. They made sure of that. To keep that bond that went far beyond just being spouses and parents.

While Tyler takes the twins and the baby to the bathroom to clean them up, Esme stays that the table with her daughter, Millie perched in her lap as she plays a game on her mother’s cell phone.  The meal was long ago finished but Esme relaxes in that lazy yet almost euphoric feeling that comes with one too many glasses of wine. Her face feelings flushed, her body filled with warmth that spreads from head to toe, her mind cluttered with a million and one thoughts but none of them actually registering.

“Hey!” Millie suddenly pipes up, a frown on her face. “That’s the creepy guy from today!”

“Creepy guy? What?”

“When Ovi and I went for ice cream,” she explains, as she swivels around on her mother’s lap to face her. “There was this creepy guy that kept watching us. Ovi said it was probably because I was cute and he was jealous I have ice cream and he didn’t.”

“Well you definitely are cute,” Esme says, as she pushes her daughter’s hair behind her ears and noisily kisses both cheeks, getting an adorable giggle in return.  “But you’re looking more and more like your daddy every day and that makes me kind of sad.”

“Don’t be sad, mommy. Daddy’s not ugly. He’s cute enough.”

“Yeah…” Esme smiles, and moves those thick light brown tresses off her daughter’s shoulders. “…he is. Think we should keep him?”

“I don’t want him going anywhere.  I don’t want him being anyone else’s daddy. Just mine. I don’t want to share him.”

“Well I don’t think you have to worry about that. So who is this creepy man? Which one is he? And don’t look. Just tell me what he looks like.”

“Do you see the lady with the purple dress and the red hair?” her tiny fingers fidget with the necklace around her mother’s neck; a simple small diamond on a thin rose gold chain.  “He is right beside her. He’s the one with all the pictures on his arm. Like daddy’s.”

“Tattoos,” Esme gently corrects, and looks over her little one’s shoulder.  The man in question sits at the bar; one of his motorcycle boots propped on the bottom rung of his stool, eyes riveted on the menu in front of him.  

‘Do you see him?” Millie asks. “Do you see him mommy?”

“I see him. He’s just trying to decide what he wants to eat.”

“That’s what he does. He pretends he’s doing other things but really he’s watching us. He did that this morning. With a newspaper. And now he’s here.”

“I think it might just be a coincidence, sweet pea. This town is only so big. You’re bound to see the same person more than once.”

“And when he was leaving, he talked to daddy.”

“Really? What did he talk to daddy about?”

“Just that he was from Chicago and he was here on business. That he has kids at home.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. But it really was creepy, mommy. It made my tummy all nervous. I don’t like when my tummy gets all nervous.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing to be nervous about. That it’s just a coincidence. Maybe he’s just lonely and looking to make friends. I wouldn’t worry about it,” she presses a kiss to Millie’s forehead. “Did you have fun with Ovi today?” she attempts to calm her with a change in conversation. “What kind of ice cream did you get? I bet it was bubble gum.”

“It was,” she nods enthusiastically, hands moving to the sides of her mother’s face, running her palms along Esme’s cheeks.  “I hope Ovi never moves away.”

“Where would he go?”

“Back to his real home.”

“This is his real home. With us. He won’t go back to where he was born because he’s happy here.”

“I’d miss him,” she pouts. “If left. He’s fun. He watches cartoons and Netflix with me and will even wear the tiara and let me paint his nails. Daddy doesn’t let me do those things.”

“Well your dad is what they call an alpha male.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I will tell you when you’re older. Much older.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “Is daddy really a superhero? Like Thor?”

“A superhero? What…?”

“Ovi said that daddy helps people. That he goes places and helps good people get away from bad people. Is that true?”

“Yes.  That’s why he goes away so much. People needs his help and he goes and helps them. And sometimes he gets hurt. But he always comes back, right?”

Millie nods. “Just like superheroes. Sometimes they get hurt too, but they always get to go home after.  But what if something bad happens and daddy doesn’t come home?”

Sadness tugs at her heart. And that innocent little face and those eyes filling with tears. “Daddy will always come home. You don’t need to worry about that, okay? Daddy will always find a way back to us. To you. And when has daddy ever lied to you? Or broken a promise?”

“Never.”

“So don’t worry, okay? He isn’t going anywhere. Not for a long time. I promise.”

She watches as he husband returns to the table with their brood of boys in tow; the way he smiles and stops to interact with those who know him; clients from his reno job, people he’s assisted with things like fixing leaky taps and patching holes in roofs and cutting  grass.

He is far removed from the man he was five years ago. The man who’d been broken and battered; weary and guarded. He laughs and smiles more now. He lets people in. To an extent. There are parts of his life that he keeps tightly under wraps not just for his safety, but theirs as well.  But he’s become quite the fixture in their little town. Charming people with that smile and accent, and of course the body.

The ladies love the body.  She can’t count number of times where they’ve been in the grocery store and there’s been some thirsty housewife lusting over him in the check out line. And having the goddamn gall to give her dirty looks because she’s the one with his hand near her ass and the one that gets the sweet little kisses on the cheeks.

It is both disheartening and flattering when your husband is the most wanted piece of meat in the supermarket.

“Daddy, look!” Millie whispers when he finally returns to the table. “It’s that creepy guy from the ice cream place!”

“You know him?” Esme asks, as Tyler sits across from her once again and settles the baby on his lap; those big strong hands under Declan’s arms as the ten-month-old stands on his father’s thighs.  “Who is he?”

 “Just some guy that’s here on business. That’s all I know.”

“He’s creepy,” Millie declares. “I don’t like him. He kept staring at us. It was weird. It made my tummy hurt.”

“I think it was the ice cream that made your tummy hurt.”

“No, daddy. It was him. It’s my tummy. I should know.”

“It is kind of weird that he’s here,” Esme remarks. “What’s the chances of being in the same place twice?”

“In this town? Like eighty percent. Don’t start. I don’t need two paranoid females in my life. He’s just some guy here on a business trip. I’m usually the one that gets the weird feelings about people, yeah? So relax. Drink more wine.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Maybe,” he winks at her. “The drunk Esme is the uninhibited Esme. And she hasn’t come out to play in a really long time.”

“She would if you stopped getting the normal Esme pregnant all the time.”

“Just one more,” he says.  “Just one. I swear.”

“And knowing my luck, it will be two again. Or maybe three this time.”

“No more babies!” Millie laments. “I don’t want any more brothers! Three is way too many.”

“Yeah, well one sister is too many,” TJ shoots back.

“I’ll kick your ass!” she threatens, and he makes a move as if to swat at her.

“And this is why we can’t have nice things,” Esme sighs, as she pushes her chair away from the table. “Because your children are the spawns of Satan. All good genes my ass. Come on Millie. Let’s go and get cleaned up. Go. Scoot,” she taps her on the bum to get her moving.  “And by the way,” she says to Tyler, as she leans down to peck his lips.  “I don’t need wine to be uninhibited. All you have to do is that thing with your tongue and that’ll be that.”

“There’s like ten things I do with my tongue. Narrow it down.”

“You’ll figured it out,” she says, and playfully tousles his hair before herding their daughter through the busy restaurant.

She can feel the eyes on her as she departs. The stranger at the bar watching her intently.

[the-mykie-show]

Love me better (Negan x reader)

When Negan sees how bad your cheating, lying, boyfriend treats you he makes you an offer you can't refuse. 

Gif not mine credit to the maker. 

Requested by @moxley-master

*Rating* explicit. 

*warnings* graphic descriptions of sex, cheating, breakups, oral sex, fingering, come licking, unprotected sex, some edging, hint of touch starvation. 

You've known your boyfriend was cheating on you for awhile. 

At first he was just a little distant, then he seemed disinterested in you, he never talked to you anymore, he barely touched you. Eventually he barely even bothered to hide it. 

You knew you should break up with him, you knew this wasn't healthy, but he was all you had, and it wasn't like there was any other offers on the table. 

Or was there? 

Negan was staring at you again, you could feel his dark gaze on you from across the cafeteria, he wasn't just undressing you with his eyes, more like he was staring directly into your soul, while also undressing you. He did that a lot. Your boyfriend hated it. Of course he never confronted Negan, he didn't have a death wish. 

“He's doing it again.” your boyfriend complained, “what is six goddamn wives not enough for him, now he's got to check out my girl too? Perverted asshole.” he muttered under his breath. You just shrugged. Secretly you kind of liked the attention from Negan, it wasn't like your actual lover ever looked at you with that kind of appreciation and desire. 

“Why doesn't that bother you more, Y/N?” he asked. 

“He's just looking, there's not any harm in that.” you don't even bother looking up from your food. 

“Oh my God, you don't actually like it do you?” he asked, you can tell he's pissed now. You don't justify him with an answer. 

“Holy shit you do.” he angrily shoves his plate aside standing from the table “Come find me when you're done being an attention whore.” he stomps off. 

You finish your meal alone in silence, deciding to go for a walk around the Sanctuary rather then go back to the room you shared with him. The factory is large and easy to get lost in, you find yourself in an unfamiliar hallway, not knowing if you've wandered somewhere you aren't supposed to be you turn around, and slam unexpectedly into a body. You're overwhelmed by the scent of leather and whiskey and something purely masculine, and you don't need to look up to know exactly who it is you've crashed into. 

He steadys you on your feet with a leather gloved hand on your elbow.

When you look up he doesn't look mad, in fact he's grinning. His leather jacket is open over his usual white t-shirt, Lucille propped casually on his shoulder in his non dominant hand. 

“Careful there sweetheart.” he says, his fingers lingering on your arm. 

“I'm sorry.” you apologize “I was just going for a walk and got turned around.” you explained. 

“S'ok. You aren't in any trouble. Just take a right at the bottom of the stairs and you'll be back on track.” he instructs you. 

“Thanks.” you return his smile and turn to walk away,but Negan grabs your arm turning you to face him again. 

“Actually while I have you here, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about.” 

“Okay…” you say reluctantly. You're not actually scared of Negan, he's never been anything but nice to you, and you've done nothing to piss him off, plus you know his policy on consent so there's really no reason to be, but something about this makes you nervous. 

“I see the way that little shit you call a boyfriend treats you, how he ignores you, yells at you, sneaks around on you with other women. And I thought you should know that you deserve better.” you feel so stupid, it's so blatantly obvious that you're a pushover even Negan himself notices it. 

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, lowering your gaze in shame. 

“No, probably not to people who don't have a thing for you. Which is actually my second point. Whenever you're ready to call that prick quits, and be treated how you deserve to be, if you're agreeable to it, I think you're hot as hell, smart as shit, and I admire the fuck out of your attitude, and I would be honored to call you mine.” you're a little stunned by his words, you almost wonder if he's joking. Is this some post apocalyptic version of Punked? You see in his eyes he's dead serious. 

“That's really very nice of you, and I'm flattered, but I don't think I could do that to my boyfriend.” 

“You're loyal, and I respect that, but sweetheart he doesn't deserve you, why don't we have dinner together tonight? Just the two of us, and let me show you how good I would treat you. If you still want to go back to him, you're free to do that, and there's no pressure to do anything in bed unless you want to.” you feel ashamed of yourself for even considering his proposal. You had a boyfriend, you shouldn't be considering having dinner with another man who, while he wouldn't force it, clearly wanted sex from you among other things. 

You don't get the chance to answer before you hear the sound of a woman giggling and a very familiar male voice speaking quietly. Then a closet door opens at the end of the hallway and out comes a pretty girl with disheveled hair, followed by none other than your boyfriend. It's clear what they were doing, all the warning signs were there, he was a cheater and there no denying it or ignoring it now. It had popped right out of a closet right in front of you. You feel so stupid and humiliated. Tears well up in your eyes. 

Negan looks at you with sympathy in his eyes, his hand reaches out to comfort you, but you jerk away from his touch.

Your boyfriend sees you at the same time. 

“Y/N, babe it's not what it looks like!” he stammers to find an explanation, you don't give him the chance. You turn and take off running down the hallway, the last thing you hear is Negan saying “Leave her alone, you've fucked up enough for one day.” and the distinct sound of a hard punch landing. 

When you reach your room you kind of wish you would have stayed to see the damage Negan had done to the asshole's face. 

You lay in your bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, contemplating how stupid you'd been to ignore all the red flags for all this time, he doesn't come back to your room. You finally get up and begin to gather all of his things, putting them in a duffle bag. You seriously think about taking them out to the factory yard and burning them, but decide that he isn't worth the risk of burning down the entire Sanctuary. You leave them by the door instead. He's just going to have to find somewhere else to sleep. You don't care where. 

You're tired of crying over him, so you go to the one place you know you'll be wanted. 

You knock on Negan's door, he opens it with one hand full of papers, his leather jacket is still on, but Lucille is missing from her usual place, his boots are off and his leather glove is missing too. You notice his knuckles are bruised. 

“I was hoping you would come.” he says, stepping aside and inviting you into the lavish room. 

“Well you were right.” you say with a bitter laugh. 

“Don't be so hard on yourself, honey.” he says. 

“Why not? I'm an idiot. I've known for months he was an asshole but he was all I had.” your voice breaks and you fight the urge to cry again. 

“The only idiot I see here is that prick, but fuck him because now you get to move on to something better.” this time you let Negan wrap his arms around you. 

“Did you come here to take me up on my offer?” he asks. 

“I don't know.” you say honestly “I just didn't want to be alone to tell you the truth.” you hold him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. 

“That dickless little shit really didn't deserve you, I wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.” he reassures you. 

You manage to laugh “Thanks then.”

“And if you do decide to take me up on my offer, I promise you I will never make you cry like that piece of shit did today.” he presses his lips against your forehead softly. 

What the hell are you holding off for? You wonder to yourself. 

Negan is hot as hell, he's attracted to you, he's nice to you, why not give him a chance? If nothing else this could be one hell of a rebound hookup. 

You tilt your head back and kiss him, he doesn't hesitate to reciprocate, his arms tightening around you and his hand knotting in your hair. His hands don't wander much, but his tongue finds its way into your mouth, electing a soft moan from you as he explores. 

It's been a long time since someone kissed you like that. 

Negan eventually breaks the kiss, pushing you back slightly but his hands never leave your body. 

“Is that a yes?” his hand strokes your face. 

 “Yes.” you reply. 

“Damn you're beautiful.” he whispered, keeping you at arm's length undressing you with his eyes again. “That idiot ex of yours had no idea how lucky he was.” he pulled you closer to him, his lips pressing against your neck, you lean into his touch, enjoying the intimacy and pleasure you'd been so deprived of. 

“You like that?” he whispered against your skin, your head falling back to give him better access. “You want more?”

“Yes” you sighed. 

“How far do you want to go?” 

“I just want to feel good again.” you whimper. 

“You will baby, I'm going to make you feel so fucking good. You won't even remember his name when I'm done. Hell you might not even remember your own.” his lips brush against your ear. 

“Did that prick ever touch you just for your pleasure?” he asked, sliding his fingers down to the top button of your shirt, and undoing it.

“Take his time with you?” he popped another button. 

“Go down on you?” another button. 

“No.” you whimper. Another button. 

“It was all about him huh?” another button. 

“Yeah.” you admit. 

“All that is about to change babygirl, I've been accused of a lot of things but being a selfish lover is not among them.” the last button came undone and you feel his hands slide into your open shirt, gently pushing it off your shoulders. You instinctively reach for the hook of your bra to undo it as your shirt falls to the floor but Negan's hand stops your's. 

“Nope, they'll be plenty of time for rough and dirty quickies later, I want to take my time with you tonight, really fuckin’ indulge,” he pulls away, walking around behind you, his hands never leaving your body, he brushes your hair over one shoulder and traces his finger down the back of your neck. You moan a little at the soft touch. 

“Goddamn! You're so responsive, this is gonna be fun.” his lips brush against the sensitive skin of the back of your neck, while his hands rub your shoulders, all the tension slowly leaving your body under his touch. 

Negan's hands go down to the hook of your bra, undoing it and pushing the straps off your shoulders letting the fabric slide off your breasts. He hooks a finger in your belt loop and drags you over to his bed, making you sit down on the edge, and dropping to his knees in front of you so he's at eye level with your breasts. 

He takes your nipple between his lips, his tongue teasingly lapping the sensitive bud until it hardens in his mouth, and then switching to the other nipple while his fingers rub and pinch the first. 

Your hands tangle in Negan's hair and moan his name in a low breathy voice that hardly even sounds like it belongs to you. 

You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, and squirm with desire, as much as you love the feeling of his tongue against your nipples, you can help but want his mouth somewhere else.

As if he reads your mind he flicks the button of your jeans open. 

“Lay back babygirl.” he instructed you, you fall back against the bed, and raise your hips to help him remove your jeans, leaving your panties on and settling between your legs again. 

“So wet already, and we've barely gotten started.” his fingers trace over the trial of wetness showing through your panties, making you moan and jerk your hips against his fingers. 

He moves your panties aside and slips his fingers into your folds, tracing your clit before letting his fingers slide lower and pressing one into your entrance. You whimper and press your hips against his hand, his fingers easily find your sweet spot while the heel of his hand rubs against your clit in perfect rhythm. 

You can feel your walls clench around him, desperate for more stimulation, to be filled more, to feel more of him. 

“Fuck you're tight.” he groans. 

He slowly pulls his fingers from between your legs, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. Damn there was something so erotic about watching him suck your juices from his fingers, just another thing to add to the growing list of things your ex never did for you. 

“Do you want me to go down on you?” he asked as he rolled your panties down your legs. 

“God yes.” you moan. 

He swings one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, planting soft wet kisses on the sensitive skin, his scruff scratching against you in the most delicious way. 

“When was the last time someone touched you like this?” he whispered, you feel his warm breath against your folds, it makes you shiver with anticipation.

“A long time.” 

He switches to the other thigh “Did he ever do this for you?” 

“Only when he wanted a blowjob, and he never made me come like this.” you answered honestly. 

“What kind of a sad excuse for a man doesn't return that favor?” before you can even think of a comeback to that you feel Negan's tongue stroke your clit, starting with soft slow laps and increasing to long broad licks. It feels amazing, you didn't remember the last time you'd felt pleasure like this. 

His tongue teases your entrance and your hips buck against his mouth on their own accord. You feel him smirk against you and his tongue slides inside you, alternating between thrusting in and out of your entrance and lapping and teasing your clit.

And to think you were legitimately going to refuse Negan's offer in favor of going back to that shit head who not only didn't give you pleasure but also made you feel like shit about yourself. With Negan it's so different, it feels good, he knows how to touch you, he knows how to pleasure you, and he makes you feel wanted and sexy. 

You withared and squirmed under his tongue, your hands twisting in his hair, your legs wrapping around his neck and head, desperately wanting him even closer somehow. 

You feel a tight coil of pleasure build in your core, and Negan must know you're getting close because he slides two fingers into your entrance and begins rubbing that perfect spot deep inside you, while he sucks and licks your swollen clit. You come harder than you have in a long time, moaning his name, your body throbbing with pleasure around his fingers. He fucks you through your orgasm until you stop clenching around the fingers he still has inside you, and then eagerly laps up all the wetness leftover from your orgasm until you're sure you're either going to come again or combust from overstimulation.

“Do you want me to suck you off now?” you ask. You genuinely don't mind giving blowjobs, and with Negan the idea actually excited you. 

“Nah, tonights about you. I'll definitely take you up on that offer next time.” he slides your legs off his shoulders, wiping your juices from his beard. 

“Next time? Getting a little ahead of ourselves don't you think?” you tease.

“Babygirl, I heard the way you moaned my name just now, felt that tight little pussy throbbing for me. You fucking loved every goddamn second of that. You're telling me next time I ask to bury my face between your legs you're gonna say no?” he had a point, a very good point that ended in a very good orgasm for you. 

He stands up, you forgot he was still fully clothed this entire time until he takes off his leather jacket, and then his shirt, and reaches for his belt, once he's stripped all the way down you see he's already rock hard. You're not surprised to see that he isn't joking about the size of his dick, it's bigger than what you're used to for sure. 

He spreads out on the bed, pulling you to join him, and making you straddle him. 

You realize he wants you to ride him, you're not used to being the one in control. 

“C'mon baby, show me how you like to be fucked.” he encourages you, but you're still unsure. 

“I just… I don't know…” you try to explain.

“Just slide yourself down on me and do whatever the fuck feels good. Trust me, I'm fine with it all.” you nod after a moment and grip his hilt, lining him up with your entrance and sliding down. 

You moan loudly, he fills you incredibly well, his tip rubbing against that perfect spot inside you with every movement of your hips. You quickly fall into a rhythm, thrusting your hips against his. 

“Damn you are fucking gorgeous.” he groans, one hand grips your hip, helping you thrust, his other hand grabs a handful of your breast, kneading it and teasing your nipple with his thumb. 

“Oh Negan! That feels so good.” his response is to rise his other hand to your breast and begin keneding and teasing it to. 

Your hips move against his until you feel your second orgasm building, getting closer with every move of your hips. 

“Are you close?” Negan asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl, let me feel you come.” the coil snaps after you grind yourself down just right and his fingers brush your nipples at the same moment. You come with a loud moan of his name, your body spasming in pleasure to the point you can't even keep grinding on him, your toes curl, you lose your breath, it's the most incredible orgasm you've ever had. 

Negan let's you finish coming before he flips you so you're under him now, somehow he's still inside you the whole time, you're still limp with pleasure when he picks up your leg, securing it to his hip and starts thrusting into you, your hands involuntarily grab his shoulders so you feel his body tense when he's close. 

“Can I come inside you?” he says between thrusts. 

“Yes, I want to feel it.” you admit. 

It only takes him one more thrust after that for you to feel him spilling hot ropes of his pleasure inside you. You let your body clench and throb around him, milking his orgasm for all its worth. 

Once he's done his head falls into the space between your neck and shoulder, his softening cock slowly sliding out of your body with your mixed juices. 

“Holy shit.” he groans” I've said it once, I'll say it again. That fucker had no idea what he was missing out on, but damn am a lucky man thanks to his stupidity.” 

[nyrator]

some more ny life updates, feat. MBTI stuff, dreams, financial decisions, ACNH checklists, and Radiohead opinions

incredibly depressed lately to be honest, but trying not to be too depressed for this post- basically a place to vent without being super negative because it be public and stuff, helps calm me down, maybe

helping other people with depression is too hard for me, I think. Feels bad to distance myself, but I think avoiding rumination is all I can do when it gets to that point

decided to re-take one of those personality things recently because why not, friends were doing it. I don’t hold much weight to them personally but at least I seem to be consistently this result every few years

for reference, an earlier test:

https://www.16personalities.com/istp-personality

reading through the weaknesses and romantic parts, it almost eerie how it describes me. It’s wrong on the sex part, but feels right just about everywhere else. They even quote me on saying this at the end part. The nice thing is, apparently Kresna’s personality result is my ideal match, which is fitting.

I tend to think my personality is a very flawed one, unfortunately, at least when it comes to social relationships. I don’t like being flattered or praised, nor do I tend to show appreciation to those that deserve it, I feel. Feeling people are slighted by my lack of attention or affection for them more and more.

Energy in general is such a hard thing to grasp. Lately I just can’t seem to do or focus on anything, nor do I have any strong desires to do anything. Feels hard to draw or make anything, and I’m wondering how I’ll finish up that Artfight thing. All I want to do is lay in bed and sleep, maybe just change my sleep schedule and only be awake when no one else is, and just keep to myself

been laying in bed a lot lately, and I’ve noticed a trend in actually having dreams when I’m taking a nap- or at least, that weird “trying to take a nap but keeping eyes half-open basically because I don’t actually want to fall asleep” zone

both dreams I had this week involved different things that I forget, but the core part was basically my family assaulting me, pinning me to the wall, and speaking my darkest secrets into my ear.

First one was my late sister being a prick and possibly uncovering my secret and me trying to get rid of her, while her boyfriend grabs me by the throat and lifts me off the ground into the wall as she mocks me. Second one that I just had earlier tonight, I don’t even remember the context, but basically had my mother disgusted by me, forcefully pinning my arm behind my back and slamming me face first into a wall, telling me she’s aware and disgusted by all my secrets.

Earlier this month, I also had one of my first dreams in months, but it was one of my reoccurring humiliation dreams. Except this time, there was blood. It was a very uncomfortable dream.

I wonder if these dreams mean anything about my psyche or whatever lately.

but yeah, have a lot of money lately, yet still feels sickening to spend money on myself still. I feel like I’ve spent too much on myself lately, and it feels bleh. I like spending money on Kresna, but he doesn’t let me do it often, but it’s always appreciated when he does.

ended up setting up an eye exam in three weeks- decided to order my own frames this time, but shopping for frames is hard. Ended up buying these two (since I always seem to have to buy two pairs for some probably insurance-related reason), but frames are extremely hard to shop for, at least for me, and that lavender look I like is extremely hard to come by

I wonder if I show my appreciation for lavender too much- I think I want to go for thicker frames like the top one, though the bottom ones are like my old frames (same company), and have that metallic lavender look that I love. If I ever had a dream car, it’d be in that color, honestly.

speaking of cars, my neighbor is trying to sell us her old 1997 Saturn for $250, but I’m not sure if I want it, to be honest- One, it’s so old, two, it’s a stick, which I only have basic knowledge on how to drive, and three, I don’t like driving. I think my mother told her yes, which is unfortunate, but we’ll see how it goes.

some other financial decisions lately- bedding, bottles, and slippers (not shown- the more convenient backless purple slippers I now regularly wear, as well as more personal items)

throw pillows are good for holding while sleeping and for preventing my arms from waking up entirely numb sometimes

been thinking about buying more clothes and furniture, but now that I probably won’t be getting the extra $1000 with my unemployment, it’s even harder to justify buying anything. I’d like a new desk, at least- something able to display things would be nice. My boss told me I’ll be going back to work soon hopefully, so that would be nice, especially since this virus is a good excuse to not bring back my coworker and to give me full-time hours, but even then, spending money is hard. Been thinking about a new mousepad since I’ve had this old one for longer than I can remember (probably a college gift), but even something simple like that is tough.

in other random news, slowly trying to make progress in ACNH still- and by that I mean I’ve finally started keeping a checklist for items (had Bugs/Fish already, but now have DIYs and man there’s so many DIYs I’m missing, also Dresses - Umbrella tabs of clothing, basically everything but Tops and Bottoms so far, and mannn, there’s a lot of stuff, but I basically have almost every accessory/sock/shoe in purple/pink at least, now just grinding my way through the rest of the colors I skipped. Also caught a Golden Stag today, only three beetles left (Giraffe, Hercules, and Elephant, I believe)

should probably start saving my extra bugs/fish for making models for Justin Beaver and Hot Topic, I realize- collecting those models really doesn’t interest me much, but at the same time, I have a weird obsession with trying to 100% Animal Crossing games (at a reasonable speed, of course- figure I’d wait until next year to worry about those two)

haven’t tried dreaming yet and honestly my island is still a mess that I’m still hesitant because I still have no idea what to fill it with or how to organize it

one last thing I did buy is the rest of the Radiohead albums though- I now own all their albums, except disc 2 of In Rainbows, though. Should probably listen to that on Youtube, not sure where to find a physical release of it. Decided to rank them, because I like ranking things apparently, even though overall it doesn’t mean much since my tastes shift constantly, and every album is good to listen to in my opinion (honestly more of a way of solidifying a future “best of” playlist)

Personal feelings of ranking at the moment:

Hail to the Thief (every song is top tier, I just want to shout them all out, but in particular I think “A Punchup at a Wedding“, “Myxomatosis“, “2+2=5″, and “Sit down. Stand up” are my favorites)

In Rainbows (my old favorite before HttT blew it away, though I think ”Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” is still my favorite Radiohead song, also shout outs to “Videotape” and “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”)

Kid A (I was lukewarm to the album at first, but it has a lot of tunes that stand out to me, “Idioteque” is also one of my favorite Radiohead songs, also shout outs to "Everything in Its Right Place" and "How to Disappear Completely")

OK Computer (this is where placings start getting fuzzy, “Paranoid Android” was their first song I ever listened to and loved back in high school, thanks to Ergo Proxy, great song, though I think I’ve oversaturated myself to this album by having it play as my driving music when I still had a car. Shout outs to “Exit Music (For A Film)” and “Let Down”. “Karma Police” is also up there but feels a bit less than those I suppose)

A Moon Shaped Pool (I’d place this higher when I’m looking for a more somber/reflective album to listen to, otherwise about tied with OK Computer. My favorite on the album, “Daydreaming”, is what reintroduced me to Radiohead and got me obsessed with them- this album was my first album, though it’s definitely softer compared to their usual stuff. Also driving music so a bit oversaturated, and it feels harder to shout out specific songs, but shout outs “Ful Stop”, “Glass Eyes”, and heck, basically most of the later songs on the album)

Amnesiac (Some good songs, but just not to the levels of the others. “Knives Out” is a great song though, and I tend to like the first half of the album more than the last half, last half is pretty weak to me honestly- though I got it fairly recently, so may require more listenings)

Pablo Honey (the latest album I got, so it’s still fresh in my head and thus nothing is permanent with it compared to the others, but mannn, people undersold this album, it feels solid front to back. I honestly want to put it higher, I think. Hard to identify individual songs, but shout outs to “Blow Out” in particular, “I Can’t” as well- but again, every song is great, so might say it’s close to A Moon Shaped Pool levels in rankings)

The Bends (one of their first albums I got, also a car album, but definitely didn’t click with me like the others. I have warmed up to it more than I originally did at least- I mainly got the album because heck yeah “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” is a great track, also shout outs to “The Black Star”, that’s like, one of my random “mouth out the chorus in the car” songs. I also tend to have “High and Dry” in my head a lot for some reason, but yeah, good car music, but not much else going for it I think)

The King of Limbs (the second-latest album I own and also the least listened to album I own, but it feels very... non-standout-ish. Like it’s almost too simple-sounding, or repetitive, or something, definitely the weakest album in my personal opinion. Can’t even think of a song to shout out, so I guess “Lotus Flower”, honestly, but again, I need to listen to the album more. Good background noise but just nothing that jumps out at me)

but yeah radiohead is definitely my favorite music group, I’d say, and also realize almost every album has a bonus disc, so hm, more music to find it seems (admittedly I’m not a fan of live music in general, which seems to fill up a lot of these bonus discs)

[ofravensandgenesis]

For the prompts, how about 5- "you're safe now"? The deputy and any characters of your choice 👀

A/N: Characters/Verse-Setting: Staci and Joshua. Set in the verse of A Cold And Broken Hallelujah about two years before the start of the events in that fic and the in-game timeline of Far Cry 5.Summary: Staci gets to know the new rookie on the force a bit better.Content includes: PTSD, non-graphic traumatic flashback, mention of non-consensual drug use, mention of medical child abuse, it’s okay though they have coffee and granola bars, Joshua justifying terrible granola bar choices but he makes up for it later, it’s still granola bars blasphemy, but friendship prevails, etcA lil backstory spoiler detail reveal for Joshua, but nothing super major that we won’t cover in ACABH sooner or later. xD This helped me flesh out a bit more details regarding how Staci and Joshua’s friendship came about, which I enjoyed a lot!! Thank you for the prompt Amistrio!! :D ♥Ao3 link here, to avoid tumblr disaster formatting on mobile.

Staci’s bored. Which is a nice change, because it’s been busy as hell with the holidays rolling through like Hurk Jr. deciding to take a steam roller for a joy ride (again) and christening it “the Hurkulator 9000.″ With spray paint.That’d been a messy day. How the man managed to avoid doing time in jail was a mystery, but then again: this was Hope County, home of the weird.The downside of being bored was that it was really, really tempting to fall asleep. Staci couldn’t fall asleep now though, it was almost the end of his shift, almost time to go home and then he could collapse into bed and play dead to the world for a blissful day of sleep.A blissful day, because he was currently working graveyard shift with the new rookie.Not going to lie, Rook was kind of a weirdo. Joey had smacked Staci for saying so to her—it’d been in private though! He’d made sure the new guy wasn’t around to hear ‘em, Jesus. Yeah, Staci knew he was being kind of hard on the guy, but the guy was kind of…jumpy. Selectively jumpy. Weirdly jumpy.Like, not at all surprised if someone showed up from around the corner jumpy, more like…jumpy when talking to people sometimes. Socially jumpy.Specifically, socially jumpy around him, Joey, Whitehorse, and perhaps a few others around town…despite not being from this area. Dude was from Georgia, down south…which was also kind of a tie-in weirdness given the local doomsday religious cult Hope County was home to, now, sadly. The Seeds had come from Georgia, so…Rook showing up coming from the same home state, looking just like the self-proclaimed prophet? Yeah. That was either deeply unfortunate luck or intentional choice there.But the probie had a rather particularly keen skill at vanishing into thin air right before anyone even remotely associated with the cult turned up.It was actually rather impressive, and had Staci wondering where the hell the guy hid sometimes, and how he managed to disappear so damn quietly.So, while the social jumpiness might have something to do with looking like the local loony cult leader admittedly, but it did raise the question of why Rook wasn’t putting in a transfer right away.That’d certainly been a weird day, when Earl had introduced Joshua to the rest of the department. Staci was sure Earl had asked at least once if not twice if Rook was sure he wanted to transfer once he’d seen the man’s picture in his file, informing the potential new transfer about the situation. Rook had apparently thought about it for a long while, and said he wanted to try working in Hope County anyway, if they’d have him—and the department sorely needed more people, they were understaffed as it was. Hell, Whitehorse had accepted Staci too—not that there was anything wrong with Staci. Just, Staci was a city boy, and Hope County was most certainly NOT that.It was about as far as you could get from a proper city without it being an empty stretch of highway, honestly. Hell, they even had a small, abandoned ghost town here…freaky as that was. Something to do with the history back during some mining age or something. He couldn’t remember. Fuck, that was going to bug him if he didn’t look it back up, Staci groused.Still, it was more than middle of nowhere with this potential weirdery of either a lookalike…or an unexpected relative. Even understaffed, Staci wasn’t sure why Earl had said yes.Perhaps he thought Rook would be useful. Whitehorse was calculating, taking the long view of things, but not manipulative, and not willing to put people, his people, in harm’s way without good reason.The Seeds were definitely brewing up trouble, had already been trouble both directly and by fucking proxy with their goddamned followers.Maybe Whitehorse thought Rook would be a possible ace in the hole…or would seed doubt in the Project’s ranks if or when the truth came to light?No…no, that didn’t fit Whitehorse’s M.O.…guess the guy had been earnest enough for Whitehorse to take a chance on him then. That’d work on him. Joey too—she was a bit more protective of him than Staci would’ve expected even for a rookie on the force.Danny…was the most skeptical of them, even compared to Staci.But Danny was kind of a prick. A rules-bound prick, but a prick none the less. Staci knew Danny would be withholding judgment until he’d seen more of Rook in action and conduct. Specifically, how much of a workaholic the newbie was, how much he respected the rules, if he was a fellow neat freak, how good his aim was, and the quality of his character.Yeah, Danny was a judgemental prick, but it wasn’t a bad list…for an obsessive compulsive. Nobody should be that neat at their desk or have a semi-permanent smell of wood polish floating about it.Staci was of the opinion Rook was a write-off—or he would be, if Staci wasn’t also likely saddled with helping Rook learn to take the training wheels off. …eh it wouldn’t be that bad, training new officers could be fun at times. They’d be playing pass-around but it’d likely help round Rook out, while making sure he didn’t get indoctrinated with Danny’s vengefully personal grudge against dust and disorder. There could only be one, for Staci’s sanity. Yes, it was great that Danny was always on point and made sure everything else was, but the man could stand to take it down a notch.None of them wanted more trouble with the Peggies than was needed though, or to have them snooping about. It’d been a bit of a devil’s deal there, in Staci’s opinion: get some sorely needed help in a time when trouble was festering, but said help might be a wild card.Assuming of course Rook wasn’t some long-lost relative of the Seeds out to do a crazy and reconnect with the family and infiltrate the police force…but that’d be crazy talk.But they were in Hope County, which Staci had learned was a hotbed for weird shit, and crazy was the baseline normal. So who fucking knew.The guy wasn’t really trying to convince anyone he wasn’t suspicious by being normal…which, actually worked in his favor, now that Staci thought about it. Was that reverse psychology? It seemed like a lot of work to act as, well, weird as Rook kind of was. It wasn’t really overt or hammed up, just…little things. That didn’t seem likely to be something a person would put on as an act.Ah, fuck. Intrigue was too much work to deal with, but deal with it they had to. Whitehorse had made the choice to accept Rook, so accept Rook they did.And Whitehorse had also made sure they were all on the same page with the official department line of keeping Rook’s unfortunate similarities on the down low. Hell even Nancy had agreed, surprisingly enough, looking wide-eyed enough Staci almost thought her eyeballs would just fall out of her head.How, exactly, a baseball cap and glasses were going to throw people off from noticing that they had a walking double of Joseph Fucking Seed in their ranks was beyond Staci.What was even more out-fucking-rageous was that it was fucking working. Nobody around town had mentioned it, there was no gossip about it, it was like…like…like no one had even noticed Rook’s face yet?It made Staci wonder if he was going fucking crazy. Crazy with boredom in this backwater town. God he needed to get out and find someone new to hang with, find something more to do on his time off. Someone to hit on would be nice, but the city-slicker charm had worn off after a while, and there weren’t a lot of ladies looking for regular one-night-stands—and Staci most certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship, even a friends-with-benefits one. Those tended to escalate far too often, in his opinion. No, thank you. If he wanted to pursue a serious relationship, he would say so at the beginning. Hooking up was hooking up, serious dating was serious dating.Ugh. He probably should see if the rookie wanted to hang out then, since he was a fresh face. Maybe Rook would be more relaxed off-duty with a beer or two in his system.Rook worked hard, at least, pulling his own weight while learning how to get his feet under him. That’d please Danny certainly—all the deputies had been harboring concerns the new guy might be thinking Hope was an easy job with not much going on. Which it was sometimes, just those were the very, very rare occasional blips rather than the day to day norm.Fuck it, fine, the rookie was doing alright in Staci’s book. So far. It was early yet still, a few months in, and it’d be a year before they all settled into accepting Rook as one of their own, but…well, it was nice to have a hair’s worth of breathing room more with another member of the team present. And a gopher to get coffee and doughnuts—he was glad he wasn’t the one getting them all the time now. Well. Most of the time.Fuck, they ran out of doughnuts near the beginning of the shift, but there were granola bars and there’d be coffee in the break room, and he needed something to keep him on his feet until his second (or in this case more like fifth) wind hit. Was it a shitty idea right before he could go home? Yeah. But he wanted to drive home, not drive headfirst into a ditch. Just a small coffee then. And one of those chocolate chip granola bars.Staci stood up with a groan, feeling his bones creak way more loudly than they should’ve at his age—he wasn’t even fucking twenty five yet, God damn. That was an effect of an all-nighter with over time though. Rolling his shoulders as he walked, he rounded the corner, past the bulletin board—and just about walked smack into the new guy. Just about made Staci jump, if he’d had the energy to do so. Too much burn out, not enough coffee for that right now though.“Jesus fucking Christ, Rook. You scared the shit out of me just about.” Staci said, grumbling more than he likely should’ve. It wasn’t the other man’s fault…just, Staci hadn’t heard him coming at all. No footsteps, no nothing.…Staci squinted. Rook’s head was tilted forward a bit, his eyes shut, now that Staci actually was looking.Was. Was Rook asleep? Was Rook a fucking sleepwalker? …that was actually kind of hilarious. Or it would be, if Staci wasn’t dead on his feet. If anything he was a bit illogically envious that the man could walk and sleep at the same time. And that was a sign Staci definitely needed to rest. God.Staci heaved a sigh, annoyed, but really just too tired to deal with bullshit of any kind right now. He reached out and gave Rook’s cheek a quick series of not-quite-gentle smacks. “Wakey wakey, probie, you’re not allowed to sleep on duty even if you can fucking walk and catch forty winks at the same time. Come on now. Raise-y daisy.”Any other time, Staci would’ve considered pranking the other man with this. Grabbing a sharpie and drawing some cartoony dicks and squigglies and whatever else he felt like doodling on his coworker’s face. Well. There’d be other times. Just he wasn’t in the mood right now.What he hadn’t expected was for Rook to snap awake with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide and wild, hands a blur as he reached up to grab Staci’s upraised arm hard enough for the bones to creak, his other hand clamped to Staci’s other shoulder as he bared his teeth. Staci had flinched and had been bringing his other hand up to try to block, but Joshua had just reacted. Much faster than Staci would’ve expected from a sleep-deprived young rookie with no previous history in martial training, especially upon waking up.That was kind of fucking freaky and he was deeply, immediately concerned he was in deep shit. He’d seen this kind of reaction before, just he hadn’t expected it from Rook.He hadn’t expected Rook to look at him with what Staci could not call anything other than killing intent for a split second there, only to rein it in in the same instance while processing it.Then Rook just stood there, holding onto Staci, breathing harsh and fast, grip easing ever so slowly, the snarl upon his face relaxing into a glassy, wide-eyed looking around. Joshua’s eyes settled on the bulletin board beside them, and Staci felt the other man’s grip tighten.Staci had seen this before, had dealt with enough people with PTSD and heard about it from the veterans at the previous district to recognize what was going on. He reached up and rested his hand on the other man’s bicep, carefully, lightly, trying to get his attention without startling him.“Rook. Rook, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay,” Staci said, pitching his voice low and calm, and oh boy if it wasn’t unsettling to see Joshua’s head snap to focus on him, blue eyes boring into Staci’s soul with enough intensity to make Staci falter for a moment under the other man’s gaze.“We need to get out of here,” Joshua said, words hurried and quiet and urgent, and edge to them that spoke of coiled tension and fear, deep south accent laying it on thick with that rough edge that came from having just woken up. Combined, it made Staci actually seriously question if there was a threat he didn’t know about present. “I’m not leaving you behind, you’ve got to get out and somewhere safe, Pratt. You have to, understand?”…No fucking wonder people followed the Seeds, damn. It was sort of weirdly touching that Joshua 1) recognized him during what seemed to be either a bout of PTSD or as the more uncharitable part of Staci’s brain suggested a bout of crazy, and 2) Rook seemed to actually genuinely be…very concerned about Staci’s continued well being.Damn.Staci withheld a split-second sigh, and made a mental note that he had to buy this guy a drink some time in the future. And be a little bit less of an ass and more…well, friendly perhaps. He hadn’t been a total ass to Rook, but he hadn’t been terribly friendly either, waiting to see if the new guy would stick around and make it through to being a regular or not. That was of course if this didn’t turn up to be a reveal of some factor that disqualified Rook from serving as a deputy. Fuck, he had to check for that as a senior officer here. First things first though, he needed to focus on calming Rook down and getting him grounded and remembering where they were.“Rook…Rook, you’re safe. We’re safe,” He said, trying to soothe the other man and get him his bearings, out of the nightmare or whatever it was that had set Rook off like that. Nightmare, he was sure. “We’re here in the Hope County Sheriff’s Department, here in Fall’s End, it’s 6:45am on a Thursday, we’re going to be off shift in a little over an hour, and Joey’s going to come in with Danny to relieve us and handle whatever new noise complaint related crap the Drubmans will drum up with fireworks and such,” He was just rambling, adding in the date and year and other mundane details to help with orienting oneself in time and space and contex. He was keeping it all slow and easy, keeping his eyes on Joshua as he continued talking like there wasn’t anything to worry about, that they were safe, because they were. Staci watched as the tension drained slowly from Rook’s face, his eyes came into focus and actually seemed to see where they were, recognition filtering in slowly. He felt Joshua’s grip on his shoulder and arm loosening again, all the way this time until there was no pressure applied, and Staci could lower his upraised hand to rest it on the side of Joshua’s other arm.“You’re safe now. Okay?” Staci asked, trying to get Joshua to recognize reality over the traumatic flashback he seemed to be in…or nightmare, or whatever it was. The method didn’t change…fuck Staci wasn’t as well-read on this as he needed to be. “Deep breaths now.”“…Okay,” Joshua said, his breathing finally slowing down, his expression finally looking like he was all there, here, now. “Okay.”He looked shaken. But there.“You alright, Rook?”“Yeah…yeah. I’m sorry, I…”“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s go get a coffee then, alright?” It was as much getting Rook something warm to drink as it was because Staci wanted one too. Food and warm drinks helped people calm down, and was one of his go-to solutions. Great way to bribe himself too when he was in a mood, like right now. Fuck sleep deprivation, man.…Fuck that was probably part of all this with the probie too.Joshua nodded, and the two of them turned to head back down the hall to the break room.“Here, you get the coffee poured, and I’ll grab us some granola bars. You like chocolate? Or you want oatmeal raisin?”“Oatmeal raisin.” Rook said, pulling out a pair of cups from the dish rack to check if they were dry, before proceeding to starting filling the first one.Staci just gave Rook an incredulous look from where he was going through an overhead cabinet. Who chose oatmeal raisin over chocolate? “Seriously?”Fuck. That came out of his mouth before he thought better of it.Rook just gave him an amused squint. “Hey I like chocolate but that’s shitty chocolate that’s all sugar and next to no chocolate flavor in the brand we get here at the station. I find the oatmeal raisin one still too sweet, but I’ll eat em anyway if there’s nothing else. The caramel apple flavor’s better, but we’re all out unless I’m mistaken, aren’t we?”“Yeah, Hudson runs through those super quick, you gotta horde some in your desk if you want any at the end of the month before restock day. Still, oatmeal raisin?” Staci wrinkled his nose with an openly judgemental look as he handed the offending granola bar over.“Pay me the funds we use for these, and I can make them better and tastier, with less crap in them,” Joshua said, taking the offered bar to waggle it pointedly at Staci before turning to hand over one of the cups of coffee. “No shit?” Staci asked, genuinely interested. Better food was always a plus in his book.“Yeah man, I love cooking.”Well that was certainly a potential plus to keeping the probie around—if he passed muster. Rook was looking calm now at least, pulling out the milk carton from the fridge to add a healthy amount to his cup. That was a quick bounce back, damn. Promising though…if still a bit haunting to think of how Rook had looked at him at first.Hm. Maybe Rook was just hiding it real well. Keeping busy, as it were.“Huh. I’ll bring it up with Whitehorse and run it by the others so they’re in the loop, if you really wanna do that on the regular. If you don’t, let us know ahead of time—Hudson deprived of snacks is a bad time for all. Pass the milk?”“Yeah I stress bake from time to time, this works out nicely,” Joshua said, handing the carton over.“Hm. You get stressed like earlier a lot, probie?” Staci asked, glancing at his coworker sidelong while stirring in his own sugar and milk.He saw how Joshua’s expression shifted slightly, lips thinning into an almost-frown.“Ah. That. Yeah I…get nightmares a lot. Doesn’t fuck with my sleep quality, just I’m fucky to wake up sometimes and need a moment.”Staci could tell Joshua knew the score here, and what the intent was for this line of questioning. He still had to ask, though, for the department’s sake and Rook’s own sake. If Rook wasn’t fit for the job, he was a danger to himself and the others in the department.“Did something happen? That looked like a PTSD flashback you were stuck in.” No point in beating about the bush, Staci reasoned. Particularly since he had all the diplomacy of a hungry narwhal right now.Rook shook his head though, not looking at Staci, holding his cup while appearing lost in thought. “No. Nothing happened. Just bad dreams.”Staci snorted, pausing mid-air in lifting his coffee up for a sip. “Yeah and I’m the Queen of England.”Joshua actually laughed a small surprised noise at that, turning to look at Staci with a cheeky grin. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty! Forgive my lack of manners, your highness.”Alright, he kind of liked this probie. Particularly when he was less of a bundle of nerves. The man was solid enough on the job while being professional, but behind the scenes...had been less smooth. The probie seemed to flounder a bit without a proper “script” to follow. But in this instance? The rookie might’ve hit his stride. It was making Staci smile out of reflex, and fuck he actually was feeling a bit less crabby over all this right now. That was uncharitable, Staci knew, but he was fucking tired. Joshua too, he knew.Joshua’s smile slid back to a more attentive, neutral expression. As much as one could, with dark shadows under one’s eyes. Fuck, Staci must’ve had a matching set too, it was practically part of the uniform during the holidays.“But I’m serious. I haven’t actually been in a violently traumatic experience or such. Some bullying as a kid, and…well, being illegally institutionalized, but it was done without a proper diagnosis from a clinician and was a complete hoax by the parties involved.”Staci almost choked on the sip of his coffee. “Say what now?” He’d followed with the being bullied part, because what kids didn’t get bullied, but the institutionalization part was a new one as far as stories went. “Institutionalized as in like in a mental hospital?”“Yeah. It was fucked. They committed a bunch of foster kids with made up diagnoses and wanted to run drug trials on them to prove efficacy with cooked test results. It all came to light after a couple of years. Corrupt practices, illegal human experimentation, inhumane treatment, kidnapping and criminal fraud charges everywhere, from what I hear.”“Jesus.”“Yeah. The courts sealed it and withheld our names because we were all minors, the other kids and I, but you might’ve heard of it like, a little under a decade ago? Was a bit of a flurry in the newspapers apparently.”“Oh fuck, maybe?” Staci vaguely recalled some mention of that scandal, now that Joshua mentioned it. Probably from a newspaper headline at a gas station or corner store, fuck if he could recall which one.That was weird, recalling reading about something he as a teenager had read about in passing as a tragic but impersonal event, and now standing before someone who it had affected both deeply and personally.He was perhaps learning a little bit more about empathy in this moment than he cared to, right now.“So, you’re saying that wasn’t fucking traumatic?” Staci asked, raising an eyebrow with a head tilt to go with it to indicate he was very skeptical that someone could skate through that kind of experience without coming out a little banged up mentally or otherwise. Some people could, he knew, and it varied from person to person, but the odds were against that he figured.Tonight was certainly an interesting night for gossip though.“Oh it was, I hate being locked up and watched, and drugged against my will until I’m a catatonic ball huddled in the corner quite a lot. Don’t like being questioned while on drugs either, in hindsight. Not really stuff I expect to encounter in any line of work though, including law enforcement. Locking others up doesn’t bother me, so long as it’s legal and ethical and such.” Those first words were light, as if trying to pass the matter off as a bit of a joke. It didn’t quite land. Joshua shrugged apparently trying to look casual about it, but the motion was a bit stiff and jerky, and he glanced down, hesitating while looking like he wanted to say a bit more.So Staci waited.In retrospect, the nicer thing to do would’ve been to reassure Rook, but well, that was more Joey-intuition than Staci-intuition, particularly right now. He’d be supportive in a minute, his sleep-deprived brain needed a bit longer to remember to do things.Joshua clearly needed a moment to organize his thoughts on what to say, which Staci was fine with, leaning against the counter to one side as he took a sip of his coffee in the meantime.“…the physician and psychologist who looked me over afterwards said I was fine, so I just…” Another abrupt little shrug and an accompanying shake of the head, before Joshua looked at Staci. “…I believe I’m sane, I just…still have the urge to say I’m not crazy, which I know sounds bad.”“…yeah that line never sounds great coming from a potential coworker or someone you have to spend more than the next five seconds with there, rookie,” Staci pointed out dryly. But hoo boy, Joshua…probably got a pass on that after being falsely labeled as in need of medication. “And for the record? Having a mental illness or something doesn’t make a person crazy. They need help, and we are sometimes the ones who need to help them get to the right people who can help them, medical professionals or otherwise.”Well, with that backstory reveal, Staci was inclined to cut Rook some slack on the weirdery, provided Rook managed to get his feet under him in good time. Rattled, but tentatively sound enough so far as early impressions went for what the man had been through.“Yeah. Yeah I know just…they treated us like we were crazy. To be disregarded, like we didn’t have an ounce of common sense between us all. They didn’t listen. Maybe it was also because we were kids,” Joshua said, looking away, “kids that no one cared about if we went missing.”“And that’s fucking wrong by any moral standard. Nobody should fuck up kids like that.” Staci said, followed by another sip. Humans sometimes were absolute assholes, but that was nothing new as a revelation to Staci. He’d certainly seen enough of that growing up. HE glanced down at his cup, noting that it was half empty already and commented offhand, “God I can’t believe we’re having a heart to heart chat at seven in the morning, after a full night shift, and after over time. Fuck, man.”Joshua breathed a laugh, but didn’t look at Staci.…right, he wasn’t reciprocating much was he. Fuck. Time to be a bit more heart-baringly friendly then. “And I agree, you’re not crazy. You seem perfectly sane so far, questionable granola bar tastes aside,—”That got Staci a proper laugh from Rook then, and he smiled in his little moment of social victory. Ah, and Joshua was back to looking him in the eye again. Good, good, they were restoring proper “friendship potential” connections.…ugh, Staci was trying to be friendly. It was too damn early for this. Or late, depending on point of view.Continuing, he said, “—and frankly the shit you’ve been through sounds real rough. I’m not the most eloquent guy even at the best of times let alone at the end of a long night shift, but you seem alright in my book. If you ever want to, I don’t know, talk and have a drink about it, honestly Joey’s the better choice for that but hit me up if you need it.”Eh, close enough. He wasn’t giving out details of his life, it just…didn’t fit the flow of what he said? But maybe another time. Was he leaving Rook hanging with awkward did-I-overshare-feelings? …GOD being nice was hard. But worth the effort, yes. He just wanted to grumble a bit about it right now.“We can swap shitty childhood stories or something sometime with enough beers or something. After we’ve both slept, I can’t be fucking bothered to do serious story time with heavy shit right now. No offense,” He added as an afterthought because that might’ve come off as abrasive. “I’m fine with listening in moments like this if you’re okay with a low level of emotional response and engagement, but I’m gonna be snarky.”“Oh so that’s just you in general, not because oatmeal raisin granola bars offended you in particular then,” Joshua said, looking rather amused at that point.“Hey, those are shitty granola bars, Rook. I just can’t believe you like them.”“I tolerate them, Pratt. I know good fare from shitty fare, and good fare ain’t that. Also, you can call my Joshua you know.”“Staci, then.” He offered a hand as…he didn’t fucking know, sleep-deprivation-addled reflex to what his tired brain thought of as an introduction of sorts? They’d been introduced when Joshua had first showed up of course, and shaken hands then, but it’d been a perfunctory greeting. This was a more welcome to the club house kind of greeting, or something. Fuck, fine, Staci was accepting Rook as one of theirs more officially-ish.Joshua was either too tired or was more of an accepting sort, taking Staci’s hand and giving it a shake. “I’ll buy you a drink sometime then, after we’ve both slept some. You wanna swing by my place later this week to help test out homemade granola bar flavors?”“Sure man, where d’you live?” Staci asked, letting go of the other’s hand to rip open his granola bar with the one hand and his teeth, before taking a bite.“I rent a place outside of town, I’ll text you the address and directions?” Joshua offered.“Yeah, alright. Stay awake until you get home then, probie, and don’t fall asleep on the way back.” Staci said, raising his half-eaten granola bar in a mock-salute that Joshua responded to in kind with his coffee cup as Staci headed back to his desk with what remained of his own coffee. It was tempting to get another cup, but he needed to sleep sooner rather than later once his shift was over, and the end was in sight.Fuck, guess they might be becoming friends then after all.…well, that wasn’t such a bad thing, now was it.Hell, maybe it’d work out. It wasn’t like he was overbooked with friendships galore around here in Hope, after all. Rook’s backstory seemed kinda heavy on shitty things that’d happened to him, but, well…why not. Staci was willing to give it a go if Joshua was. Plus it wasn’t like Staci himself had come from a peerless background either. He took another sip of his coffee and a second bite of the granola bar.…hm, maybe Joshua had a point. Maybe these were too sugar-heavy on the flavor instead of a more chocolate-rich taste, now that he was paying attention.Fuck. Now he couldn’t fucking un-taste that cheap-mass-produced-granola-bar flavor. He shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth grouchily, chewing on it with a bit of spiteful prejudice. At least there wasn’t much left of this one, for what consolation that was worth. Staci really fucking hoped they got better granola bars now, either by Joshua baking them or a different brand, because there went his bland, non-attentive, mindless enjoyment of one shitty junk food snack masquerading as a healthier snack.God fucking damn it.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 33-36

Chapter 33

So we’re back in Andi’s POV, finally. She’s woken up by Dex who is all worried and Andi vomits in his lap and then thinks about how sexy he is. Mind you, they are in a ship filled with corpses and there’s an unconscious and busted Valen near them who’s probably dying slowly, plus the vomit.

But I guess that just turns Andi on more? Discuss.

They find Valen barely alive among the corpses and Dex is surprised he’s not dead.

Hey bud. Didn’t you throw the guy down a flight of stairs a few chapters ago? I don’t think you’re in any position to make glib remarks, my guy.

Andi takes out the pilot with a shoelace, which, alright, and Dex says something about how she’s still afraid to fly a ship because she asks him to do it. Wow, an actual symptom of PTSD? In my Zenith? What a time to be alive. 

The chapter ends with Andi angsting about how she’s had to murder another person. Except she didn’t have to do that. She could’ve just knocked the pilot out and locked them in the storage with the other corpses to get rescued later. The pilot didn’t know there were live people on board so they wouldn’t know who attacked them anyway. I mean yeah they’d probably sustain brain damage but they wouldn’t be dead.

Methinks Andi really likes murder and justifies it to herself by saying it’s a necessity. 

Chapter 34

We’re in Dex’s POV and he’s complaining about how everything smells like trash on the Marauder now that Alfie took the door off the trash shoot. 

Hey. Hey why don’t you just ... blast it out? Like. Just shoot the trash out. Why do you store it on the ship that gets lighter and faster when you spend ammo? You’re in space. Just blast that shit. Or convert it into biofuel. Apparently it smells of “unmentionable” things so that makes me wonder if they store their actual shit in there as well? What the fuck is in their trash department that it smells so bad? If they can’t blast out the trash (which makes no sense), why didn’t they get rid of it when they were getting repairs before the mission? Why didn’t they get rid of it during the numerous times they’ve landed? Why the fuck does this ship have a dedicated trash department anyway? 

The little fire-haired gunner had wanted to know if the blood on Andi belonged to her or some “now-ball-less bastard,” to which the giantess had responded, Of course it’s not hers, Gil. And don’t say bastard. Say prick.

Comedy. 

Dex is being patched up by Alfie (who is described as “fawning” over his wounds, which doesn’t sound right), and thinks about how he’s gonna drink himself into oblivion later. Alcoholism? Love it. I bet Shinsay will know exactly how to handle this, with how many references their super cool and mature characters make to getting absolutely shitfaced.

Dex sulks himself out of the “med bay” (Why don’t these idiots have medical staff? For the same reason they don’t have mechanics I suppose.) to go and update General Cortas on their progress. 

The general is all grumpy and shit and reminds Dex that he’s in charge and can fuck him up good if anything happens to Valen, and tells him to keep Andi away from him. Because he thinks Andi will ... kill Valen too? I guess he thinks Andi is addicted to murdering his kids or smth. 

Anyway, Dex gets all mopey because the big scary man said some mean things but then he hears classical music and enters Andi’s room. It’s time for some bullshit, lads. 

Chapter 35

So finally we get the scene where Andi “dances” with the dead, which turns out to actually just happen in her head while she spaces out and cries. She imagines herself on a stage with an audience of ghosts of all the people she’s killed, and they come up and dance with her one by one and she “memorizes” their features. I’m not sure how she does that because the narration during action scenes keeps emphasizing how quick and cool she is so I have no idea how she can “memorize” the features of someone she’s probably only looked at for a couple of seconds at most. Also, I dunno why she’s memorizing something she clearly already remembers. I know it’s a nitpick but it’s just bad, y’all.

If this is supposed to be atonement ... God I hope it’s not. It’s honestly written like it makes Andi some sort of pure angel who just Does What She Has To, instead of just being a coping mechanism. Behold:

Tears streaked down Andi’s cheeks, pulling her from the vision she’d created so clearly in her mind. The music grew louder, silencing her tears. She closed her eyes and forced herself back into her mind. She owed this to the dead. This pain, this dance, this time where she gave herself fully to their memory.

Anyway, the last ghost is Kalee of course, and I’m not entirely sure how many people Andi’s killed if every single dance is as detailed and long as the ones with latest ghosts (the descriptions are quite lengthy so I assume it’s a couple of minutes or so), but it looks like Kalee’s ghost has to sit there and wait a while lmao. Even in death this brat can’t catch a break.

Sorry, I know I’m laughing at trauma here, but it’s not real trauma, it’s badly written melodramatic trauma. Like, I just don’t see someone who genuinely doesn’t like to murder people keep “crossing that line” (yes, apparently whenever Andi does a murder, she “crosses a line” she’s set for herself, wowza) and all they do for atonement is keeping a mental list and queue of all the fake made-up ghosts she needs to dance with. Like. I get that people cope differently but this is less of a coping mechanism and more Shinsay crossing shit off a list to make Andi more palatable.

I just don’t believe it. Not after I’ve seen how proud she is of being the Bloody Baroness and how Glorious it feels to Do A Murder.

Also, this chapter is rife with weird fucking grammar and writing in general. Some examples: 

[Kalee] was dressed in a shimmering blue gown that swirled around her ankles like fragments of cloud.

“Fragments of cloud”????

The transport creaked. Groaned, as the fire licked closer and closer.

Why did you. Break, the sentence up like that. 

The chapter ends with Dex giving Andi some time to pause her PTXD so they can have the talk she promised him. Which is nice of him, I guess. Despite being obnoxious and a dweeb, Dex manages to be better than every SJM love interest ever? Wow.

Oh but don’t you worry, it lasts uuuh until just now.

Chapter 36

Andi thinks about how sexie Dex is now that he’s washed the blood and vomit off and changed some clothes. Which ... there’s no mention of him doing since he returned from the corpse hauling ship ... The last chapter from his POV had him arriving at the Marauder and having his wounds checked, after which he instantly went to call General Cortas, and then he went directly to Andi. 

I guess he’s got time travel powers? Or are we supposed to believe he showered before being brought into the med bay?

Whatever. 

Dex says that Andi doesn’t know the “full story” behind the reason he turned her over to the Patrolmen, and Andi responds with:

“I loved you, and you threw me away like some common whore!”

But god forbid we actually say the word “sex” or stop being immature little shits every moment we make a dirty reference, amirite guys? Calling women whores and sluts is a-ok but if you even TRY to discuss sexuality in a mature and relaxed way you WILL get eaten by the mommy police.

Dex is like “pwease wissen to me :C” and she’s like “fucking dammit he’s just so hot not to listen to”:

She wanted him to hurt. To feel the soul-deep pain, just as she did. Physical wounds would heal, but the internal scars never would.

SOUL-DEEP PAIN. 

Not sure Andi has a soul but go off.

“You were my whole world. You showed me that I could still be loved. When everyone else—an entire planet full of people—hated me so much they wished me dead, even my own parents...I found you. I started to live again. I started to trust. Then I lost you, too, just like all the others. You turned away, just like they did.”

Thanks for mapping out the exact reasons for your angst, Andi. It’s not like we’re clever enough to know you have trust- and/or abandonment issues.

More like Angstdi amirite?

Dex gets all defensive and instead of giving her the real reason for his betrayal, he starts mouthing off and justifying himself.

“I turned you in because you were running from the law! You lied to me about your past, Andi. I did nothing that wasn’t expected of me! My duty as a Guardian was to the welfare of the galaxy, not to some runaway Spectre who’d failed her entire planet! You made the choice to fly that transport ship. It was your hands that crashed it. Your failure that killed Kalee! You ran, Androma.” 

H-hey bud? This is, as far as you know, your only chance to justify yourself. Maybe calm your tits and tell her what you’ve been keeping secret instead of confirming her beliefs about you? Since you were so desperate to talk to her?

No? Ok. For someone who displays some amount of emotional maturity (good god I can’t believe I just said that about fiking Dex Dogtective), you sure do get fired up easily, huh. Must be all that will-they-won’t-they tension.

They circled each other like predators, blood boiling, bodies shaking with rage as the stars looked on.

I can promise you the stars have better things to do than to give a shit about this petty squabble, Shinsay.

“Did you ever think about my side in all of this, Androma?” Dex’s voice cracked suddenly as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. “You may think you know the whole story, but you are so consumed by hate that you only see yourself.”

SO MAYBE STOP JUSTIFYING YOUR ACTIONS AND ACTUALLY TELL HER WHY YOU DID IT IF IT’S SO FUCKING IMPORTANT FOR HER TO KNOW?!

But no, we can’t have that yet. He follows it up with this:

“Your side of the story doesn’t matter. You sunk a knife into my chest. You stole my ship and left me to die.”

BECAUSE YOU TURNED HER OVER TO THE PEOPLE WHO WOULD MURDER HER. 

CAN YOU MAYBE NOT?! 

HOLY SHIT DEX DOGTECTIVE YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING MORON, AREN’T YOU? 

No wonder she fuckin stabbed you. I would’ve stabbed you multiple times and made sure you were actually dead before leaving your sorry ass.

Anyway, they stare at each other and Dex is all “uwu ur the only woman I ever loved” and we all know that doesn’t mean bi!Dex because Shinsay can’t think of a their manly man getting dicked down by another man, nu-uh.

Then we finally get the reason Dex did it. You see ...

They had his dad. And threatened to kill him if he didn’t turn Andi in.

Yeah. That old chestnut. It does unfortunately open up all of the plot holes. Like for example, if they knew where Dex was, why didn’t they just ... find him and thus find Andi? They knew she was with him. He was a Guardian at that point, surely they know where their men are stationed? Apparently he’d known Andi for a year when he turned her in, and he hadn’t realized who she was until the general’s men approached him. So ... how did the Patrolmen realize he was with Andi if even he didn’t know it? Or did they just threaten a family member of every Guardian on the off-chance that one of them knew Andi and would give her up to save them?

Maybe there’s something I’m missing, but this smacks of contrivance for the sake of conflict. 

Anyway, apparently Dex had tried to give Andi a head start the morning before he turned her in. By giving her a vaguely worded warning that she didn’t get. 

What a peach. 

They bribed Dex on top of threatening his father, which is like, beating him with the carrot stick, and I don’t understand it at all. But Dex feels very terrible about what he did to teh womaine he wuvs :c and apparently tried to plead with them that she was young and made a mistake. 

“Andi,” Dex whispered. “Please. Look at me. Tell me we can move past this. We both made mistakes. We both made our choices, and we’ve had to live with them.”

Seems a little manipulative there, Dexyboy. I’m getting a lot of mixed messages, but the loudest one seems to be “you did a bad and I did a smaller bad that’s justified and I feel kinda bad but also you’re also at fault and can we bone again please” and I’m not into it, Dexyboy. 

You wanted her to get away, to give her a head start. You agree that she’s innocent and she made a mistake when she was a child. Yet you blame her for stabbing you and fleeing from certain death? Ok. 

I mean, I get it, getting stabbed probably ain’t so fun, especially when it’s the womaine you lurv :c, and sure maybe it hurts both physically and emotionally to have her turn on you so fast and without hesitation ... BUT YOU DID PROVOKE IT BY TURNING HER OVER TO PEOPLE WHO WOULD DEFO 100% MURDER HER ASS. If you love her so much, can’t you extend just a bit of sympathy for her actions? Since you are the reason she did those things in the first place? Fucking dumbass.

Also, why the fuck have you been acting like a huge cocky asshole this whole time since you reunited? For kicks?

I get Shinsay wanted a sexie snarky love interest just like SJMommy but they’ve done it at the cost of consistent characterization.

Andi says that there’s no getting back to how it was and tells Dex to leave so she can cry and carve more tallies into her swords.

It’s very deep, y’all.

[loracarol]

I may or may not do a Proper Review of the Twisted Tales series at a later date, but here’s my brief summary/review of the first three. This WILL contain spoilers. 

Also @fantastic-nonsense​, have you heard of/read any of these? I know that fairy tales are kind of your jam. :V

A Whole New World

Easily my favorite of the three by far

Really leans in to the whole “the same Disney Movie You Know but with One Twist” thing they claim to have going on

Jafar gets the lamp

And that’s where it all goes to shit

Everything builds off of this one singular change in the timeline - while things are built up/expanded in the past, frankly it’s nothing that goes against the actual movie. 

For example, the King being little more then a man-child ignoring the problems in his city. Not specifically mentioned in the movie but given the King’s personality/the slums we see, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. 

Building on Aladdin’s past friendships - again, not something we actually see in movie, but not necessarily ooc either.

Also Jafar kills the Sultan, uses magic to raise the dead (the genie can’t do it, but Jafar uses his newfound power to look for a way around that.) 

BUT YEAH there are zombies all of a sudden, including children. 

This book was baller, 10/10 would recommend, even if just for the Holy Shit What The Fuck-ness of it.  

Once Upon A Dream

Middle of the pack IMO. 

I don’t actually have anything against the idea of the plot.

Aurora is highly different from her movie counterpart. It’s not necessarily bad IMO, but it was Distracting. 

Aurora and Philip were cute, though. 

Aurora’s parent’s get killed before she gets a chance to meet them. :( 

But then?? She/the plot seems to agree with Maleficent that it was all their fault for sending their child away?? 

And, of course, ~Maleficent~ wouldn’t ever do something like that

Ignoring for the moment that they sent her away because Maleficent had put a curse on a fucking baby that was supposed to kill her 

and it was only because another fairy intervened that she didn’t die

Maleficent, you don’t get to police how other people deal with that shit when it’s your fault  they have to deal with it

And also you killed them and it’s your fault Aurora never got to meet her parents. 

I was worried they were going to pull a Maleficent at the beginning with the framing device that Maleficent was the good guy and the three good fairies/the King and Queen were the bad guy, but the twist was nice

Not my fav, and while I did laugh out loud at some parts, I ended up feeling like I was reading about two OC’s who’d snuck into the plot rather then the Disney versions of the characters. 

This was especially annoying bc the part where the book “twisted” the tale was around Aurora pricking her finger/Maleficent dying - aka the end of the friggen movie.  

6/10 wouldn’t recommend but wouldn’t anti-recommend either. 

As Old As Time

This book was very... Yikes

Yikes Yikes Yikes

Okay, maybe I’m overthinking this - I’m not actually Jewish, but it felt like this book appropriated/exploited a lot of Jewish historical suffering? 

This one is under a cut bc potential antisemitism

Twist is that Belle’s mother was the Enchantress, but honestly, that didn’t feel like enough of a twist to justify everything that happens in the book

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a kingdom. This kingdom had many people within it’s borders, including a number of Jewish people magical folk. Belle’s mother is one of those Jewish people magical folk, only she’s a good Jew magical person with her “Aryan” looks blonde hair and light eyes (tbh I can’t remember if they were green or blue). 

Among Maurice’s companions include a man who hates his Jewish heritage magical abilities and thinks of magic as unnecessary/evil. 

Belle’s mother settles down with Maurice and has a baby with him, but things are starting to go poorly for the Jewish magical people. A plague arrives and the magical people (you get the point so I’m going to stop now) are blamed for it. Belle’s mom goes to the castle to try and bargain for help and because she is a Good Magical Person she casts a spell of protection on all of the children in the castle. 

Meanwhile, magical folk are disappearing, but no one knows where to. To combat this, a series of people - including Mr. Potts - run a smuggling ring to get magical people out of the country. This is Important as things are continuing to go Wrong and the magical people are being blamed for all the countries ills. 

In the end, the bad guy is the man who hated his magical abilities. He’s also Monsieur D’Arque - the asylum owner. He experimented on his brain (like, actual brain surgery) to get rid of his powers, and he’s been kidnapping and torturing magical beings since in order to try and figure out how to destroy all magical beings. Let me be clear, he is pretty much a Disney Fanfic Version of Josef Mengele. His experiments were horrible. Belle’s mom was one of those taken*, and she was tortured so badly... It’s horrifying, reading the description. 

*As one of her last spells, she had removed everyone’s memories of her connection to Belle & Maurice to protect them, and that’s why D’Arque didn’t go after them at first. 

There are other things, too, little bits here and there that really made me feel uncomfortable, like the book was appropriating this historical persecution of Jewish people for it’s own ends, but again, I’m not Jewish, and therefore not qualified to make A Statement on Antisemitism. I’m just noting the things I noticed.

That’s my Number One Big Problem with the book, and why I’d probably give it 1/5 stars, if that. That being said, that wasn’t my only problem with the book. The thing is, it wasn’t a good book that used unfortunate metaphors, it just felt like really really really bad fanfic on top of that. I don’t mention the following because I think they’re equal to what I noted above, I mention the following because these were other things that really annoyed me, and I wanted to rant about it:

Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with the beast? 

You know how, in the movie, when the Beast knows that Belle is a chance to break the curse, and he still is an angry asshole to her even though realistically being kind would be more likely to cause her to fall in love with him & to break the spell.  

Yeah, forget all that. 

Belle touches the rose, learns about the curse, remembers her mother, and knows that she’s unlikely to fall in love with him now that she knows she “has” to.

The Beast, in return, turns into Bad!Fanfic!Draco/Zuko. You know, the kinds that show up in bad Dramaione/Zutara fics. (I’m not saying they’re all bad, but come on, you know what I mean when I refer to Bad Versions Of Those Fics. 

You know the archetype. 

Despite finding out that he may be Cursed Forever he puts on a tablecloth like an apron and helps Belle cook. 

................................Yeah. 

I read a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic that was Beauty and the Beast and something similar-ish occurred, but there it made sense. There it was in-character. 

Also there’s a scene where the Beast is literally groveling on his hands and knees to get Gaston’s help.

Do you see what I mean about “bad fanfic”? 

Anticlimax

The whole mob @ the asylum ends because LeFou recognizes his aunt (?) as one of the patients and that’s pretty much all it takes to turn people’s minds around. Maybe this could have worked with better set-up (LeFou’s POV book?) but... Yeah............

Anticlimactic Gaston

You know all that power he had over people in the village? How he was so well-liked he had his own theme song? How he was able to get everyone to set up a wedding in like... A day? How he had girls swooning over him? How the tavern was his house of worship? How he was able to get a mob going to attack a Dangerous Beast by sheer virtue of Who He Was in the village? How it took him plunging to his death to stop his cruelty? 

Yeah, there’s none of that in this book. 

People start recognizing the people in the asylum, and that’s just... It. They don’t turn on him, but they do turn away from him, and he just kind of... Takes it. It’s like they gave canon!Gaston valium. Why wasn’t he angry when he lost control? Why didn’t he rage when people betrayed him? Those are canon actions even before Belle meets the Beast! It just doesn’t make any sense that he’d just lie down and take it. 

And the Furries Rejoiced 

Belle doesn’t break the curse, but her mother has enough power to break part of it. The Beast somehow Stops Losing His Humanity because Luv (??) but that’s not enough to actually break the curse. The Beast asks the enchantress to break the curse on his people instead, and she does, leaving the Beast totally fine with being trapped in an alien, monstrous body. There is hope - if they can gather other fairy tale creatures to his palace*, they might be able to band together to break it. And like, I get it. People seem to have a hard on for the beastly form, but the book totally glosses over his canonical frustration with his inhuman form. See again, the cooking, and turning into LeatherPants!Draco/Zuko. It’s frustrating - again, that’s something that could have genuinely be fascinating, but it just felt like a cop-out so that the book could end with him still a furry. 

Like, do that if you want, but actually make it a consequence with some emotion behind it rather then just being kind of... Meh.   

* His palace was magically hidden & that part of the curse didn’t break meaning that it has the potential to become a haven for persecuted magical beings.

[ravenbcys-remade]

my youth (my youth is yours)

chapter : 1/?

word count : 1389

pairings : remus lupin /sirius balck, james potter /lily evans, marlene mckinnon / dorcas meadowes

AO3 summary : “You’re in my spot,” Sirius interrupts. “And I’d like you to move.” Remus raises his eyebrows. (Yeah. He’s definitely cute. Sirius hates him already.)

“Your spot?”

“My spot.” Sirius only then realizes how stupid he sounds, but it’s too late now to back down. “Again, it would be really nice of you to move over one table.”

“And it would be really nice of you to choose a spot one table down for a single day.” Remus smiles, and it’s sort of sharp and sarcastic but also really, really pretty.

[ or : sirius really wants one particular spot at one particular coffeeshop and perhaps an excuse to flirt with the cute boy that frequents there, james wants to impress the love of his life - hopefully without being overbearing, and peter is done with everyone's shit ]

Sirius is - really tired, honestly. He’s really tired and he sort of wants to die and the fact that he hasn’t shown up to any of his Bio 101 lectures because he’s a failure of a student is making it only slightly worse. Therefore (god, he just thought therefore unironically; the papers are getting to him), it’s completely reasonable that the bright spot in his day is going to a stupid hipster bookstore-slash-cafe and talking to his stupid jock friends, messing with the entire too good for you atmosphere the place has going on.

(He mentally backtracks, feeling guilty for calling James a stupid jock. James is the smartest man he knows. James is - he’s a fucking god is what he is.)

(Also it’s sort of unfair to call Peter a jock at all.)

And so it’s completely understandable to be slightly disgruntled when he sees some uncultured swine sitting at his table. In fact, it’s justified to walk up to said uncultured swine angrily, forgetting to keep his class in the heat of the moment.

“Um, hi,” the swine says, and shit, he’s kind of cute, not that it matters at all. “Would you like - ”

“You’re in my spot,” Sirius interrupts. “And I’d like you to move.” Swine raises his eyebrows. (Yeah. He’s definitely cute. Sirius hates him already.)

“Your spot?”

“My spot.” Sirius only then realizes how stupid he sounds, but it’s too late now to back down. “Again, it would be really nice of you to move over one table.”

“And it would be really nice of you to choose a spot one table down for a single day.” Swine smiles, and it’s sort of sharp and sarcastic but also really, really pretty.

“Sorry, but my friends and I usually meet up right here, uh - sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Because I didn’t say it,” Swine responds effortlessly. “But it’s Remus.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Remus,” Sirius replies. The name evokes a thought of sweaters and hot chocolate, an aesthetic that contradicts the essence of the evil man standing in front of him. (He’s not evil, a voice in the back of his head that sounds oddly like Peter reminds him. He just wants his seat. Sirius pushes the thought away.) “I’m Sirius.”

“Interesting name,” Remus snorts.

“I could say the same for you.”

“That’s fair,” he replies, and there’s an uncomfortable pause. “Anyway, you can just move one table down. My friends are set to arrive in, like, two minutes anyway - ”

“So are mine!”

“But I was here first,” Remus continues, infuriatingly calm. “And the whole notion of it being your spot is childish and, frankly, a little insane.” His voice is passive, but his posture is triumphant. Sirius hates it.

“Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll move one table down - for today.”

“For today,” Remus agrees, his lips twitching upward for half a moment. “And if you come here first tomorrow or whenever you want to claim it next, it’s all yours.” It takes Sirius a moment to realize this is a thinly veiled challenge, and he smiles only partially artificially.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sitting at the next table as the bell rings. James and Peter hurry in, accompanied by three girls. They’re all laughing about something, and Sirius feels a pang in his chest despite knowing he’s not being left out of anything important.

“Oh! Sirius, this is Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas,” James says, grinning sheepishly. A girl with bright red hair - he thinks it’s Lily - is staring at James with an odd sort of fondness. “Lily and I went to school together until year 9, when she moved away, and now we’ve somehow ended up going to the same uni - ”

“And not knowing until now,” Lily finishes, a bit too eagerly in an endearing sort of way. “He was a prick in year 9, though.”

“Wouldn’t know, since I moved where he was for year 10.” He grins. “He was still a prick then, so I’m assuming not much changed.”

“Is he the same way now?”

“Unfortunately,” Sirius sighs, “I have to say no. Our scheming days are behind us. We’re mature and responsible adults - hold on,” he says, something clicking into place. “Are you three - are you all his friends?” He points at Remus, who’s currently scrolling through Instagram. God, of course he is, Sirius thinks, putting aside the fact that he spends most of his day scrolling through Instagram.

“We are,” one of the other girls says. She’s pretty in a soft sort of way, Sirius notices as she grins at Remus. “Here early for once, I see.” Remus looks up from his phone.

“Had to get a good seat,” he responds, glaring at Sirius, who tries to glare back more intensely.

“Did we miss something?” Peter asks. “I think we missed something.”

“He took our seat,” Sirius says, pointing a shaking finger at Remus. He’s gotten extremely good at exaggerating his emotions for dramatic effect. His old headmistress said he had flair, whatever that means.

“Does it matter?” James sighs, throwing an exasperated look at Lily as if to say ridiculous, am I right? Sirius is, frankly, betrayed and disgusted.

“Of course it matters,” he says slowly. “This is our seat. Don’t make me defend our honour alone, James.” The other girl – wearing a black and bedazzled shirt that says girls just wanna have fun, which is just Sirius’s style – grins.

“This is ridiculous.”

“People say that’s one of my charms,” Sirius responds. Remus rolls his eyes. “Hey. Rude.”

“What’s rude is throwing this big of a fit to get a fucking table.”

“A sailor’s vocabulary, I see. You should calm your language down; it’ll make you sound more elegant.”

“And since when have I given a rat’s ass about sounding elegant?” Remus counters.

“I wouldn’t know,” Sirius says, “and don’t mention rats in a negative light around Peter; that’s just insensitive.”

“Why the hell–”

“We took a stupid spirit animal quiz online once,” Peter says dully. “It said my spirit animal was a rat. They’re never letting me live it down.”

“It was six separate spirit animal quizzes because you didn’t accept the results the first time, and you’re damn right we’re not,” James says cheerily, pulling out a chair at the table next to Remus’s. (No, not Remus’s. It’s rightfully theirs; Remus just plundered it. Like a pirate, except hotter and with hopefully better hygiene.)

(God, what has his life come to?)

                                                              -

                                         A cool chat 4 cool kidz

wormy: first of all i’d like to once again protest the name of this group chat.

King Padfoot IV: Why, because you’re not cool? If so, I agree.

King Padfoot IV: James, virtual-five me.

Prongs: *virtual-five*

wormy: i’ve lost count of how many times you’ve used that insult.

Prongs: Anyway, this might just be me overanalysing again

King Padfoot IV: It usually is.

King Padfoot IV: I’m just kidding; I love you.

Prongs: Love you too

Prongs: But also were you eyeing Lily’s friend

Prongs: The one you were arguing with

Prongs: I’m not misinterpreting it right

King Padfoot IV: …no, I was not.

wormy: that absolutely means yes.

King Padfoot IV: For once, Peter, you’re correct. It does absolutely mean yes.

King Padfoot IV: However, it’s just because he’s an aesthetically pleasing man. Personality-wise, I was most certainly not eyeing him.

Prongs: I dunno Lily said he’s normally a sweet person

King Padfoot IV: Well, she’s either a liar or horrifically misled. I’m sure he’s a demon.

wormy: au contraire. i’m sure he’s a decent person and you’re just overreacting, as per usual.

King Padfoot IV: First, don’t use French against me; you know I’m more fluent than you’ll ever be

King Padfoot IV: Second, wrong. I have never once overreacted in my entire life. Right, James?

Prongs: Um

Prongs: Yeah of course

Prongs: Either way I’m interested to see how this plays out

King Padfoot IV: Speaking of romantic misfortunes, wasn’t Lily the girl you wouldn’t shut up about year 10?

Prongs: She may have been but that’s irrelevant to any discussion

King Padfoot IV: Fascinating. (No sarcasm intended.)

wormy: do you think there’s a chance of her liking you now?

Prongs: I’m honestly not sure

King Padfoot IV: Again, fascinating.

King Padfoot IV: Either way, I’m interested to see how this plays out.

[determined-multimuse]

👨‍👩‍👧-Aaron you say

Ah, yes, her ex-mistake. Folding her arms across her torso, Kaya sharply exhales. 

“…so you wanna know about my ex, huh?” Like many of the things and people in here life… where to start is always the question. Frankly, she’d rather avoid talking about him every chance she gets. But the inbox has to be appeased, and it’s not like Frisk is around at the moment anyway…

Kaya huffs, her arms folding tighter as her glare grows sharper from the ugly, distasteful memories coming back to her again, as they always do.

“…Okay, sit down and shut up, it’s a long-ass story, and I’m only gonna tell it once.”

“It all started with a stupid teenager doing stupid teenage things because her parents were terrible at their jobs and knew nothing about having a disabled kid,” she starts with a slight sneer. 

“I came out of my mom’s snatch kicking and screaming, and stayed kicking and screaming for years. Then, around elementary school, they introduced ABA therapy. I was emotionally and mentally abused all through elementary and middle school, and became a terrified, depressed shell of a kid who would do, say, and repress anything I had to just to make my parents happy. So they wouldn’t yell at me or grab me or take away something vital to my mental health.”

“Then high school came around, I’d just hit puberty, and I decided I’d had enough to being bullied by my own parents, my teachers, and the other students, and I became an A-grade bitch to everyone. Just to try to give myself control and empowerment in my life, I went from one extreme to another. I was a dumb, emotionally repressed teenager who jumped back to being a rebel, so I did a lot of shitty things. I had anger issues, was violent, and hung out with a lot of bad kids. I didn’t bully anyone, really, but I got into a lot of fights and only barely avoided getting arrested from vandalism and underage drinking a lot. Smoke weed a lot too. I was a rotten kid, but… honestly, it felt better than letting people grab my hands, shake me, yell at me and push my around… I was 14 and stupid, sue me.”

“Yeah, I make it sound like Aaron was one of the bad ones, but he was actually one of the only decent kids in high school at the time. He came from a pretty well-off family and kinda took pity on me. He wasn’t scared of me like some of the other kids, but he didn’t really pick a fight with me either. He was a good kid at the time, or at least that was the impression I got as a dumb, naive fourteen-year-old. He was nice to me, gave me rides home when I felt scared to call my parents, hung out with me, got me out of weed, booze and crime, talked to me, listened… He was good to me. Not sure whether that was genuine and he turned into an asshole or if he was always an ass trying to get into my pants, but it doesn’t matter. He’s a dick now.”

“I fell hard for the guy, being the idiot teenager I was. I was convinced that he was an angel there to save me from my shit-hole situation. Needless to say, we… did the deed. A LOT, actually. And finally, of course, we conceived Frisk when I was 15, had them when I was 16. Of course my parents weren’t happy, but that worked out for me because I hated them at the time. Was under the mindset if they hated it, I was doing something right. But even my grandmother, who was the only other decent person in my life, was voicing concerns about how fast I was jumping into things. And… like a dumbass, I ignored her. I was…”

Her glare finally falters and her face falls. As dumb as she always remembers she was in hindsight, she could never deny that she really did love the guy back in the day. At the time, he’d saved her, as far as she was concerned…

“I was in love… I… really thought he was my soulmate. So… I moved in with him after Frisk was born, and at first, everything was just great. I just stayed home with Frisk while he went to work, and we got married a week after I turned 18. But… once we made it legal and I was actually tied to him, things… started changing.”

“He never wanted to actually take care of Frisk. They were like a cute commodity to him; he never wanted to feed them, change their diapers, put them down for their nap, or look after them after daycare, it was ALWAYS on ME. Which I mean, fine, I didn’t wanna work and was controlling and protective over Frisk. But he never picked up the slack at home, he just went out to work, went drinking with his work buddies, and came home with dinner eventually.”

“And it just… got worse. No matter how stressed or sick I was, he’d never pick up the slack. He just enjoyed the perks and fun parts of fatherhood without trying to put in any actual work. Which I always justified with him being the breadwinner and being tired all the time. But when we learned Frisk was autistic when they were three…”

“He completely. Fucking. Abandoned them. All of a fucking SUDDEN, he had zero patience for just about anything Frisk ever did. Completely ignored them, got impatient with them whenever they started stimming–which, you know, I got onto him about. We fought a lot, and Frisk would always start crying because he’d convinced them our marriage problems were THEIR fault! Because I wasn’t going to let him snap at Frisk over shit they couldn’t help as a fucking four year old!”

“He deteriorated over two years’ time since we found out Frisk was autistic; he did his best to be good to me despite his mental shit, but he wanted absolutely nothing to do with Frisk. He was a pathetic shitstain of a human being. He started coming home late, getting drunk, we fought just about every goddamn day, and he kept getting onto Frisk, trying to make them be like me. ‘Your mom was like you and she learned how to be normal, why the fuck can’t you listen and learn to be normal–’ Like, asshole, do you even know me?! Since when have I ever been normal?! All that shit he sold me about accepting me as I was turned out to be bullshit.”

“I tried so hard to make it work, I tried to patch things up between me, Aaron and Frisk for years… I’d always been able to wrangle him in whenever he started yelling at Frisk, help them sort things out, and most of the time, he’d apologize… but the second he actually put his hands on them - grabbing their hands to make them stop stimming when they were crying, hard enough to bruise them, just after they turned five - I shut the whole thing down right then and there. I knew where this was gonna go and I wasn’t gonna see it through with Frisk. I wasn’t gonna let Frisk go through a worse version of what I went through.”

“In hindsight… I should have shut everything down when he started neglecting them. That’s just as much abuse as putting your hands on a kid is… but I was delusional. I was selfish… and wanted to make my relationship with the man he used to be work. But no matter how much I may have still loved him… I wasn’t gonna let him put his hands on my child a second time. Yeah, we fought physically and we damn near killed each other… pretty sure I scarred Frisk with that, but… ya know. I won, and now that prick knows better than to show his face around me or Frisk ever again.”

“There’s… a lot I should have done differently back then; a lot I should have done for Frisk’s sake. I know I wasn’t the best parent in the world for them at the time. I put my relationship before their wellbeing at the time, even if I didn’t realize it, and to be honest… I’ll be ashamed of myself for that ‘til the day I die. It shouldn’t have had to escalate to physical violence for me to wake the fuck up and get Frisk and me out of there, but it did…”

“So… it’s just me and Frisk now, and even though I had to step up and find work out of nowhere, start being the breadwinner AND the child rearer while still having shit support from my ‘told-you-so’ing family… we’re better off without that asshole in our lives. I know there are a lot of people who… might be better for Frisk, as a parent, but… I still wanna do the best I can for them and their future little sibling now that I know better.”

“And if that prick shows up again, this baby’s gonna have to deal for five seconds so I can suplex the dickweed. Not that he really would, he already only begrudgingly pays child support, but… ya know. Always good to be prepared. So yeah. I hate my ex’s fucking guts and I was an idiot for ever marrying him.”

“The end. Any questions?”

[journalxxx]

Through the Looking Glass

Ford clasped his hands behind his back, trying his best to wait calmly and patiently despite the worrying noises around him. "Uh, Stanley?" "Not done yet." "Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but do you remember what happened the last time we... rearranged the furniture?" "Shush, it's a different thing. Perfectly safe. Don't peek." "And we hadn't even drunk anything..." "Pffft, you call five glasses of whiskey drinking? Ma would be ashamed."

"May I just ask-" A louder thud came from right in front of him, and Ford gave up on arguing. He should have chosen to hold onto his self-respect sooner, instead of accepting to stand around for a good five minutes in the middle of their bedroom, eyes duly shut, waiting for whatever heavy and bulky 'surprise' Stan was apparently dragging all over the boat. There was no stopping Stan's enthusiasm after it exceeded its critical threshold. "Perfect. A few steps back, if you please, and then sit." Stan moved behind him and took both Ford's hands, guiding him backwards as instructed. Ford frowned slightly at that needlessly convoluted procedure, but he complied silently. He sat on something soft, confirming that bed and mattress, at least, were still where they were supposed to be. "All right, you can look." Finally, Ford opened his eyes, and he found himself staring back at his own confused expression. Thankfully, the room was as he'd last seen it, the only difference being a large, full-length mirror standing exactly in its center, facing the bed. Stan had managed to arrange the two of them so that Ford was sitting between his legs, and he shot a wide grin at his brother from behind his back. They made an amusing sight, two elderly men sitting around like playful children, bulky bodies and rough skins shaped by tireless navigation and misadventures, yet elegantly dressed and clean shaven for the first time in months. "...A mirror?" "Brilliant observation, Poindexter. Any thoughts?" Ford bent slightly forwards to take a better look at the new addition. It was very dark and lucid, with a thin yet steady build made of sturdy wood, ebony perhaps. The frame was richly carved with arboreal motifs, shaped like thick roots and solid bark in the lower half and ascending with delicate and lithe branches in its upper side. "It's very elegant. I'm no connoisseur, but it looks expertly made. It's... not the kind of vanity I'd ever expect you to choose for yourself, I'll admit. Especially knowing how you usually favor cheaper alternatives." Stan barked out a laugh. "Yeah, it really isn't my style - which you aren't allowed to criticize, by the way. I've lived in your house for thirty years, Ford. I've found things." Ford cleared his throat in embarassment. "Right, well... I am still slightly puzzled as to why you decided to buy us a new mirror." Stan swatted an invisible speck of dust from Ford's shoulder. "To buy you a new mirror, you mean. It's a gift. I told you the suit was just the beginning." Right, Stan had been in high spirits since the day before, when they had docked, for the first time in months, in some place that wasn't the usual far-off fishing village, but a full-fledged sea-side tourist resort, complete with luxury shops and a casino. That very night, Ford had reluctantly watched Stan dress up and head to the seedy establishment, already resigned to find a solid loss in their budget by the following morning. Instead, his brother had come back with substantial and allegedly legitimate winnings. His good mood had only intensified from there. He had positively conned - Ford couldn't even quite remember how, or with which words - his brother into promising they would go back together to the same establishment the following night, and he had subsequently dragged him out for the afternoon to get him 'cleaned up nice'. Apparently, within that short time span, he had also managed to buy, bring on board and hide God knows where a new piece of furniture without Ford even noticing. "I'm very flattered, but..." Ford turned to look directly as his brother. "Why a mirror?" "Oh, well." Stan smiled, wrapping his arms around Ford's torso and resting his chin on his shoulder, gently nudging his brother to face the mirror again. "I finally got an idea about a present we could both enjoy for once, so I just went for it." "Mh... Interesting. I never took you for the vain type." "Oh, I'm not. But it's nice to know you have some shareable interests beyond equations and unlikely fauna." Stan smiled amiably, smoothed carefully his brother's waistcoat and slid his finger within the tie's knot, starting to loosen it. "So. Why have you never told me you like peeping?" Ford blinked, processing his brother's claim with unusual slowness. "...Excuse me?" "Man, aren't you lovely when you get selectively deaf. I said..." He smirked, and Ford felt him - and saw him - pressing his lips directly against his ear, practically into his ear, sending small shivers down Ford's spine with each whispered sillable, each warm breath, each wet contact with the curved cartilage. "'Why have you never told me you like peeping?'" "I... really have no idea what you're talking about." "How strange." Ford's tie landed at the bottom of the bed and Stan began undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, from top to bottom. "I thought you'd remember the thirty or forty times you stood in front of the bathroom door while I was jerking off." Ford's whole body tensed abruptly, but Stan didn't seem to mind or notice. "I mean, it kind of made sense at first, before we got all upfront and settled about this. There were some weird vibes on the boat at that point, I'll give you that. What I didn't get is why you kept doing it after we talked things through. And you kept doing it for months. Maybe you're still doing it, uh?" Ford's beet red face was as clear of an answer as Stan could possibly need. "Yeah, ok, you're still doing it. Well, at least you seem to be a bit more discreet about it. Can't honestly say I have noticed, lately." Ford was at a complete loss for words, not that he thought there was much to say to justify such behavior. Luckily, Stan wasn't expecting long-winded replies, and he seemed perfectly content with his task of slowly undressing his brother, who had just lost his waistcoat as well. "It is weird, you have to admit that. You could just, I don't know, knock and join the fun, or storm in, tie me to the fittings and take the matter in your own hands - literally, right? But no, you'd rather rub one off on your own without even tipping the showman, like the little self-centered prick you are. Some guys would take it as a personal offense, you know." Ford finally tore his eyes off the mirror and looked straight at his brother, radiating genuine outrage. "I do not do that." "Do what?" "I don't-" Ford sighed, turning back to face their reflections again. It didn't really make talking any easier. "I don't peep through keyholes, for heaven's sake. I'm not that far gone. Nor do I act upon it. I just... listen, mostly. Not that there's much to hear, but... well..." Stan hummed, massaging Ford's torso through his shirt. His fingers alternatively straightened and creased the light fabric with leisurely strokes, letting it both bunch up and stretch on the soft expanse of his brother's belly. "You listen. And that's all. God, you're such a dork. That sounds... slightly hot at best, and very frustrating." "That's because you're making a huge deal out of nothing. I just... find the knowledge of what you're doing in there... a bit distracting. That's all, really. And I assume that if you aren't seeking me out, you'd rather have some privacy for once, so I keep to myself." "And your idea of respecting my privacy involves eavesdropping on me and patrolling the corridor while I'm trying to have a good time?" Ford let out a defeated sigh, accepting the jab fairly. He didn't have a shred of a valid argument to counter his brother, that much was obvious. In fact, he could count himself lucky that Stan was completely nonplussed and amused by the whole thing, at least judging by the steady progress he was making with Ford's undressing. He had just moved to the top buttons of his shirt, and he was taking his sweet time with each one of them, rolling the tiny round buttons in his fingers a few times before slipping them through their eyelets. Saying that the motions were suggestive would be an understatement. "All right. Let's pretend this unbelievably prudish behavior of yours doesn't underwhelm me. How about your questionable fascination for my seduction attempts? With strangers, I mean." There went the second can of worms. Ford closed his eyes for a moment, genuinely missing those blessed old times when his brother used to find him intimidating. "And here I thought you'd appreciate my liberality in letting you hit on whoever you liked for the evening." "Only to lock onto me and find any random excuse to drag me away the very second anyone starts flirting back? Mighty generous of you." "Is this about what happened earlier?" "Also. I didn't even manage to catch the name of that charming estate agent I was-" "And the loud, young heiress. And the blackjack dealer. At once. I am only human, Stanley." "Yeah, yeah. The point is that you know I wouldn't mind holding off from doing that, now that I'm taken. But you've specifically told me you have no problem with that. You've encouraged me to keep doing it, even. And I don't think you're lying. I don't think you're saying that out of sheer open-mindedness, either." Buttons finally undone, Ford's shirt fluttered open, revealing the bare skin beneath. Stan's hands dipped under the fabric, deftly seeking and tickling those tender spots that invariably made Ford's muscles twitch automatically. He was staring at Ford with a certain intensity that made something squirm in his brother's stomach. "And your point is?" "My point is: have you ever considered that, with the proper arrangements, you may get to see more than some cheesy pick-up lines and a couple of ass squeezes?" Ford slightly lowered his gaze on the mirror, temporarily relinquishing his brother's eyes to focus back on his hands. His callous fingertips were running along the lines of Ford's ribs, leaving a slightly itchy and pleasantly lingering sensation in their wake. His touch had a certain assertive presence, pressing hard enough to leave a lighter trail on Ford's flesh for a second, before it returned to its usual tone. Briefly, very briefly, Ford tried to imagine Stan's hands giving the same ministrations to someone else, some faceless, charmless passerby who would share with Ford nothing but the same questionable interest. The mere idea was enough to make Ford's gut constrict in the most unpleasant way. "Honestly" Ford swallowed thickly, resting his hand on his brother's thigh and squeezing it gently, "I can't say that the idea appeals to me." "Mmh. Figured as much, but I thought there would be no harm in asking." Stan smirked, leaning back slightly to peel the shirt off Ford's body and throw it in the growing heap on the opposite side of the bed. He hugged his brother again, laying a kiss on his neck. "We'll see." Stan's hands took to roam around Ford's chest with wide, languid movements. His fingers carded and tangled through his hair leisurely, pulling just enough to give him a slight sting, then relenting and taking off in a different direction. Warm kisses peppered Ford's neck and shoulder, quickly divesting him of the lingering discomfort of that bizarre conversation. Unexpectedly, Ford found himself oddly compelled to keep looking at the mirror throughout all of it. It was nothing they hadn't already done a hundred times already, but the new perspective offered by the reflection made it feel somewhat different. The soft, delicate feeling of his brother's hands and lips on him, coupled with the unhindered sight of the very same actions, had a positively mesmerizing effect. He focussed on one detail at a time, savoring each nuance of each gesture. The odd contrast between the round fullness of his brother's lips and their chapped surface. The fond intent of his expression as he savored the taste of Ford's skin, inch by inch. The tiny wrinkles and scars on his knuckles. The pliable elasticity of his own skin, molded by Stan's measured caresses. He let out a deeper breath when Stan pinched both his nipples, and he felt - saw - his own cheeks redden slightly at how quickly they hardened under his brother's touch. Stan chuckled, and their eyes met on the clear surface. Only then Ford felt the magnetic fascination of the object wane slightly, and he finally turned his head just enough to kiss his brother fully. He was sweet like whiskey, and salty like skin, and still the most delicious thing Ford had ever had the pleasure of tasting. Ford sucked at his lower lip, and inhaled his breath, and licked his tongue, and it wasn't nearly enough. He moved to face him fully, but a hand on his arm stopped him and nudged him forwards again, while another swiftly slid down his stomach, past his navel, beneath the hem of his trousers. There was something new to see on the mirror. Stan's hand created a big, squirming bulge in Ford's groin, almost comically so. It re-emerged for a moment to pull down the unnecessary garments, and Ford gulped embrassingly loudly as Stan purposefully let his brother's growing cock literally spring out from underneath. He didn't even have the decency to get on with it immediately, the bastard. He stroke the surrounding hair first, scratching and teasing the thick curls all over Ford's crotch, while his neglected erection gradually grew higher, one tiny twitch after another. Yet, Ford did not complain. He was too fascinated by the entrancing sight. The closest he got to voicing his disappointment was when Stan's hand dipped lower still to grab and squeeze his sack, which, due to an unfortunate combination of bunched up trousers and a bad angle, wasn't quite visible. And that felt surprisingly frustrating. But Stan seemed to guess the problem and quickly, mercifully moved on to wrap his hand fully around Ford's length. Ford let out an involuntary gasp as his thumb, only his thumb, moved, barely scraping along a particularly evident vein along the whole length. "God, you're gorgeous." Stan's husky tone caught Ford's attention again, and his eyes darted up to their faces. Ford had often been surprised by his brother's perceptiveness during their intimate moments, by how easily he seemed to gauge Ford's interest and mood at any given time. Seeing his own expression in that circumstance for the first time, Ford had to admit that it may have been less of a feat than he was imagining. His flustered look, tinged cheeks and slightly parted lips left little to the imagination. Stan was drinking in the sight with evident rapture and Ford suddenly felt nothing short of debauched, despite realizing that he wasn't objectively more exposed than during any of their previous encounters. He swiftly reached up and snatched Stan's glasses away, leaving his brother blinking in confusion for a moment before he let out a short laugh. "Dick." With the glasses out of the way, Stan's next onslaught of kisses, nibbles and bites became even more energetic. Ford let out a small moan at the feeling of his brother's tongue roaming freely all over his neck, of his breath tickling his skin delightfully. He tried to turn again to return the kisses, but Stan's free hand grabbed his chin and held it firmly towards the mirror, towards the captivating view he had peevishly denied him. At the same time, the hand on his cock started stroking him in earnest, with slow and tight pulls that left Ford positively gasping. His eyes were glued to the mirror, to the engrossing sight of Stan's fingers tracing his jaw back and forth, then dipping lower along his neck to press softly in the hollow of his throat, along the tense tendon on the side, on the quivering spot of his pulse. He observed the small telltales of his own increasing pleasure, the small twinges of his abs, the uneven heaving of his chest, the imperceptible thrusts of his hips. He did not blink for so long that his eyes started to burn slightly, until his vision wavered, for no more than a split second, when it suddenly was too much. He let out a harsh pant and grabbed Stan's thighs instinctively as whiteness burst from his tip, messily splattering the floor, coating his brother's fingers with thick dribbles that spread all over Ford's length when Stan kept stroking him seamlessly. He finally closed his eyes then, and he let his head fall backwards on his brother's shoulder while he caught his breath, waiting for the waves of pleasure and excitement to subside. A few minutes passed, only marked by the occasional pecks Stan was still laying on Ford's cheeks. When he finally opened his eyes, Ford was greeted by a shamelessly proud smirk. "You still haven't told me if you liked your gift or not." "...I think it's starting to grow on me." They kissed once more, deeply. Stan wrapped his arms around his twin again and held him close, bringing his own warm appreciation to Ford's attention by shamelessly thrusting his hips against the other's lower back. Ford smiled against Stan's lips, idly smoothing the lapels of his brother's jacket. "How come you're still fully clothed?" "Because you're a selfish douche. How about you give me back my glasses and put up a nice show for the audience?" As an answer, Ford placed a hand flat against his chest and pushed him down on his back. He clambered onto him with deliberate slowness, straddling his hips and bending down to wipe that smug expression off his twin's face in his own way. "Maybe next time."

[halsteadpd]

Linstead Crossover One Shot

Since @kkmallow3 asked so nicely, I thought I’d do a post-episode AU. Enjoy!!

/

It was the first shot ringing out that sent her heart racing. She watched her partner run after him as she tended the man with the GSW. They rounded the corner and were no longer in view. Jay was all alone. Her mind automatically went to negative thoughts, because she could never have something good in her life. It always seemed to get ripped away from her. She could hear the sounds of car tires screeching and their horns beeping before her partner’s voice echoed through the radio.

“5021, George. Armed offender heading Westbound on 29th Street. Get me some guards!” His voice was shaking and she knew he was still running. Then the two gunshots were heard. Both shots reverberated in her mind over and over again. It sounded like his gun, but she wasn’t sure. All she remembers is the burn in her throat.

“5021, George. Shots fired by the police. Offender down, 4000 block of West 29th street. Roll an ambulance.” He was still alive. Thank God.

“... Hey partner, are you alright? … Jay are you there?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

She knew he would be, but it was that slight pause before he could get his answer out. It was that slight pause that made her heart race even faster than before. She could feel her heart drop into the depths of her lower body as she waited for what felt like years for him to answer. He was still panting, trying to regain his composure, but he had shot him. Both shots had been him.

He died within seconds. He wasn’t even guilty. They had the wrong guy, but regardless, he still shot at them. Erin understood that well. She was raised by Hank Voight after all. He raised her on the policy of if anyone tries to hurt you, you can do whatever you want, they chose their fate. She lived with that policy for over 15 years now. But she knew how Jay was about this kind of stuff.

He was getting coffee later that evening, everyone had their noses in their paperwork. They had just caught the prick and Voight was down there with him in the cage. She watched Al storm out of the bullpen followed by Kevin when he found out. She could hear him yelling, then it ceased. Antonio must’ve arrived. It was out of their hands now.

She approached him quietly, but he could always feel her presence. He grabbed her mug from the rack and began to fill it without even looking back towards her. After handing the mug to her, he leaned against the countertop facing her, nursing his own cup.

“You doing okay?” Her voice was clouded with emotion. Today had been a rough day and she couldn’t wait to get something in her to help her forget. But until then, coffee would have to be her only beverage.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He had a hint of teasing in his voice, something he always did when he was hurting. He never let himself get too vulnerable. Showing his emotions, especially at his workplace, would be one of the last things he would be caught dead doing.

“Jay… What you did today… it was justified… don’t beat yourself up over it.” She rested her free hand on his chest and slowly rubbed comforting circles into the fabric of his henley. She watched how his blue eyes started to get clouded grey. His tell sign of when something was hurting him. The last time he had that look was when they dropped Mouse of at the airport in his fatigues, not knowing of the next time they’d see him.

He watched Voight enter the bullpen again and pulled away from her. He respected Voight’s professionalism rule since he turned a blind eye to their relationship. His throat felt thick and he cleared it before leaving the break room, leaving Erin behind.

They all drank at Molly’s that night. To forget, maybe to heal. But they drank. Erin decided to take it easy after seeing how Jay drank shot after shot. She could feel the burning in her own throat, she could physically feel his pain. She wanted to take it away, just like he always did for her. But she was dealing too. They stumbled out of Molly’s close to 11. Jay’s entire weight shifted onto Erin.

She barely got him up the stairs to their apartment before she plopped him down on the couch. She probably wouldn’t need another workout for the next couple of days after that journey. He fumbled for the TV remote on the coffee table as she left to their room to change into something comfortable. He had settled on watching the Weather Channel.

They sat in silence on the couch and watched the same thing over and over again before he spoke up.

“I killed someone by accident in Landigal.” He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. She knew he wouldn’t be doing this on his own volition, this was the liquid courage talking. She wanted to stop him, knowing how much he would be regretting this conversation in the morning, but she had to know what had happened to him over there.

“Everyone always told me it was okay… that it was justified.” Her own words replayed in her mind. She realized she hit a sensitive spot when she used those words. She hadn’t known. He had probably been thinking about Landigal all night after their break room conversation. “But I know it’s not. Those words are just meant to make me feel better.”

“Jay-”

“I had nightmares about it for months… and sometimes… sometimes they just come back up... You know, I’ve lost count on how many people I’ve shot and killed. Whether it was Afghanistan or Chicago… I just don’t know. Honestly, what’s the difference?” His words were slurred but she could hear the raw emotion behind them. It was like he was completely sober. “They’ll be back tonight.” His last few words were barely above a whisper.

She scooted closer to him, laying his head on her shoulder as she ran her hand through his hair. She didn’t say anything. No words would bring him solace tonight. Her presence was the only thing she could give him right now.

“I’m sorry.” His words bring her out of her thoughts. “I’m just being a downer right now. I should be comforting you, you lost someone that was close to you since you were 15. How are you doing?”

“We don’t have to talk about that right now. Why don’t we go to bed and we can talk in the morning?”

She felt his body tense. She could feel his apprehensiveness radiating off of him. Sleep was a dangerous thing to him. Sleep meant vulnerability. Because when she takes him into bed and tucks him in before placing a soft kiss on his lips, it won’t be long before she’s waking up again against his sweaty body, wiping his tears like she’s done before. She’ll hold him to her chest and whisper kind words into his hair over and over again until he finally succumbs to sleep. She’ll hold him for a few more hours, before they’re waking up again to that obnoxious alarm tone he uses. And she’s going to be ready. Because he would do the same thing for her. He has done the same for her.

/

Wasn’t anything too special. But whatever. 

[lethe-distillery-blog]

The Philanthropist

It took everything in me to not break down into tears in the parking lot of Gage Enterprises and Investments Incorporated. To say that it had been a long four hours was as simple as saying the ocean was a large puddle. Technically, it was true. In the most basic stretch of the definition. But if I stopped, if I allowed everything to catch up to me, I would break, I would fall apart and crumble and I couldn't let that happen. I needed to do this. This was the last shot I had of still having a house in the morning.

My rust bucket of a 1991 Ford Mustang looked out of place beneath the shadow of the steel and glass building; not to mention it's companions were things that likely cost as much if not more than the dump I called home, I was just thankful that she hadn't decided to backfire or else someone would call the cops thinking I was here to rob the place. I looked around slowly, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. It was something I had seen on a Youtube ad about how to relax, and right here, now, of all times, I needed it.

The receptionist gave me a polite, but cold smile as I approached her rather large desk, with whom she shared it with two others. "Can I help you?" She asked in that polite kind of way that assumes you're lost.

I forced myself to not look down at what I was wearing, the pencil skirt and blouse were for work, but also so happened to be the best-looking things I owned and I had figured that though it wasn't perfect, it wouldn't hurt. "Yes," I took a long reassuring breath, in through the nose, hold three seconds, out through the mouth. "I am here to see Gage Harrison."

Her expression was plain, even though she did her best to hide the disbelief from her features. "He's the top floor," she indicated a row of elevators and I nodded my thanks, doing my best to swallow down all fear and trepidation and walk to the elevators as if I owned the place. Well, maybe not the place, but maybe some small modicum of dignity and self-worth. I could at least have that, right? I stepped into the rich walnut paneled box and the doors slid shut without a sound. Scanning over the buttons I found floor 43, the top floor, whispered a prayer, and pushed it. I started moving after a slight delay.

In the lonely confines of the elevator, with the distance from everyone, and the half a moment to breathe; everything crashed into me. Hard.

"What do you mean we got an eviction notice?" My voice had been louder than I meant, but the shock of it had caught me off guard as I had been getting ready for work. I pulled the paper close and started reading.

Carson, my husband, had looked distraught. "Baby look, I can explain." The writing was explaining it far better than he was, "I was hoping I could get the money together and pay it off before you noticed." Before I noticed!

"Where did the money that I gave you for rent go?" I had a really, really bad feeling though the rest of the stupidity of what he said taking a second to register, "And where were you supposed to get the money from?"

He reached out to touch me and I felt his hand on my cheek, I almost wished he was angry too, I felt so helpless when he was pathetic like this. Like I wasn't allowed to be angry at him; when he was yelling back, I at least felt justified. "I," he hesitated, pulling his hand away and scratching the back of his neck. "I was doing really good last Saturday with the guys," I knew what was coming, but still, I naively kept hoping I was wrong, "I thought," he hesitated again, "I figured that I could win big and give you that new dress you've been wanting so badly." He didn't exactly fess guilt to his spending the rent money but this had happened often enough that I knew what had happened. "And I've been trying to get the rest back, so then you wouldn't get angry." Ah, because this was my fault I got angry that he had just 'lost' six hundred dollars. "That's why I didn't tell you, Jake said they're doing double the stakes tonight, I figured I could win it back, and pay it off before you even knew what was happening."

"Carson," it took everything in my power to not yell at him but the pathetic look in those big green eyes had me just sighing and shaking my head. He came up to me, a large man, he limped slowly on a leg that had been shattered in the prime of his life.

He wrapped his arms around me, "I'm so sorry Tess, I didn't ever mean to stress you out." I hugged him back, though I felt cold. It was just the anger, the pain of him lying to me, again.

"It's alright, I'll figure something out." I didn't know what, but, I would at least try.

I dropped Hannah off at school, hard to believe the munchkin had just started kindergarten this year. Her brother, Jeremy, was at home still, my mother-in-law, Sarah, had said she'd take care of him today since I needed to scrape together every penny to try and get rent together in less than twenty-four hours and had decided that forgoing the babysitter would help some, besides, it would be a nice visit for Sarah and Carson.

An hour after that, I was sitting in the mall parking lot and staring off into nothing. The bank wouldn't loan us the money. Even the quick-loan wasn't giving us money and I had always been led to believe that they gave money to anyone. I didn't know what else to do, I could get together a couple hundred, but this was our third miss, I didn't really blame Karol, she was trying her best and she had already been more than generous as tempting as it was to blame her, blame anyone really, for my problems. I didn't know what else to do. It's not like we could afford anywhere else, between a damage deposit, first month's rent, and a place that accepted Randy, I was seriously out of luck.

"It's a shame that Gage is too much of a royal prick and would never give money to anyone in need or I'd suggest him." Sarah ranted when I called her to ask what I should do.

I had only met the younger Harrison boy once; it was when Carson and I had gotten married. I had only been introduced to the man in passing, and the way he stood apart from everyone I figured he had been simply a long lost relative or friend that Carson had invited out of guilt or obligation. Never would I have suspected that this man was a brother. Though I did get an earful later when I had asked who he was. "He's my younger brother," Carson had spat, sounding angry and bitter, "gone off to business school like he's somehow better than us. Fool don't know shit even if smacked him in the face, you watch, he'll come crawling back and beg for a place among us and I'll shut him out just like he did us." After hearing the rage, and the chewing out I got after simply asking if he had an email I could contact him by, I had left the topic alone.

I had looked him up, with shaking fingers, on the free WiFi hotspot by the library. Gage Harrison, owner, and CEO of GEII, a multimillionaire. Parents and brother were listed in the Wikipedia article. Parents are Sarah and Parker Harrison, older brother of Carson Harrison married to Tessiah, children of Hannah and Jeremy. Honestly, it was a bit creepy to have this much known about me on the internet where just anyone could find it. If they had included my pittie Randy I would have flipped a gasket. Not sure why that would have sent me over the edge given that they already seemed to know more about me than was comfortable.

The ding of the elevator dragged me back into reality and I looked into the smooth glass panel and swore. I had been crying, and it was painfully obvious that I had been. Stepping aside, I took a few seconds to dab at my eyes and clean up some of the mascara that had flowed down my cheeks. Even on my dark complexion that was still terribly obvious. Not to mention it only took a good look to see that my eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Yes. I indeed look like a crazy bitch. All well, it's all I had.

I stepped out into a beautiful sunlit space, the ceiling had to be at least fifteen feet up. I stopped and looked around in sheer awe. Massive panes of glass stretched floor to ceiling, the floor was a brilliant black marble with gold sparkles that glowed in the afternoon sunlight. It reflected on itself causing glowing constellations across the walls, all tastefully paired with comfy looking black leather, black wrought iron, and glass, It had been perfectly put together, providing comfort but also commanding attention. I would know, I had been taking interior design courses before I had gotten pregnant with Hannah and I had dropped out to marry Carson and care for her.

I froze mid-step when I realized I wasn't alone. An older woman sat behind a desk at the far end of the room though she was smiling kindly. I went over, a bit hurried and she smiled kindly, "I still catch myself staring at all the reflections too. They move like smoke throughout the day." I could only imagine, though I still flushed furiously, like a child that had been caught doing something naughty. She smiled, "I'm assuming you're here to see Mr. Harrison, but he's on a call right now, would you like to sit and maybe have some refreshments?" She indicated the plush looking leather chairs and a coffee maker, water, and what looked to be a kettle and an assortment of teas. "I can't see him being much longer than a half hour." She smiled, warm and kind, I liked her immediately.

"Thank you," I trailed off and looked over her desk and flushed more.

"Wendy." She provided with even more warmth in her smile.

"Thank you Wendy." I smiled, relaxing slightly and went over and poured myself a mug of the hot bitter coffee and added a few sugars and cream. I needed the caffeine. I didn't even pull out my phone from my purse, I had told no one I had come here, given the horrific reaction I had gotten after the wedding, I figured that this was best done without knowledge from anyone. Ever.

Instead, I simply contented myself on walking around the room, impressed how the deep turquoise green color of the room lent itself to brightening the space rather than making it seem smaller. Though to be honest it was likely due to the space being massive already. It was easily a thousand square feet, complete with what looked to be like a conference area, complete with a carved ebony table that likely cost more than some of the cars outside. I knew because I had drooled over one at a studio once, the wood color was rich and warm, very close to my own skin tone, which made it all the more appealing to me. I couldn't help but reach out and smooth my fingers over the polished surface. It was warm from the sun, hard, but with that softness that wood held that was different than metal or glass.

I felt him before I saw him. Raw power. That was the only way to describe what I felt coming off him as I looked up at his approach. He was a tall man, though a couple inches shorter than his older brother I could see the family resemblance in the jaw, the shape of the eyes, and the way the eyebrows arched. Still, he held a predatory grace that definitely made me notice him, an innate confidence that had him knowing his place in the world and that he was content in it. His suit hugged a body that was lean and muscular and a flash on his right hand indicated a ring as it caught the light. His smile was warm, though it didn't quite reach eyes that were a deep hazel and moss. "Tessiah," my voice sounded exquisite on his tongue, rich and cultured, "it's been a while, please, come in."

I followed him past Wendy, who smiled at us both, and through the large walnut double doors and into a beautifully furnished office space. Large and airy it held a pair of the same leather chairs, a small table that looked like it should collapse under its own weight, a rather well-stocked dry bar, a massive kidney shaped ebony desk that was neatly organized of papers and a charming, old fashioned, rotary phone, and a laptop that held a slideshow of far off places. Would you like something more to drink?"

I shook my head, given that I had been drawn in by the design of the place I still had three-quarters of a cup of coffee. "Have to drive home still." I offered an explanation. He nodded his understanding and pulled out one of the leather chairs slightly, sitting, he tucked me in like a true gentleman before he went, found himself a tumbler, a bottle, and poured himself a couple fingers of amber ambrosia before coming over and sitting across from me. It smelled potent but sweet. He took an appreciative sip and closed his eyes slowly as he rolled the flavors on his tongue.

"So, how are the kids?"

I was startled, I was expecting to get straight down to business and my begging him for money but I smiled at the thought of Hannah and Jeremy. "They're good," I sipped my coffee, "Hannah started kindergarten this year."

He let out a long breath and smiled, "I hadn't realized it had been so long. I bet you're thrilled."

I was. "And frightened," I confessed. "Most of her classmates are white, and though it isn't an issue now, I worry about her when she's older." He nodded sympathetically and I continued. "She loves it though, keeps on saying she wants to adopt Mrs. Kinsmith to be a third grandmother."

Gage snorted a soft laugh, "I'm surprised she's still alive." I raised an eyebrow and he smiled, "she was around when I went to school, was still old then too."

I laughed. "Yeah, she's still there, and grumpy too." And slowly, I started talking about Hannah and Jeremy and before I realized it, and two cups of coffee later, it had been an hour and I felt nearly human again. He truly was a miracle worker. I felt like I wasn't taking on the world anymore, that maybe I wasn't alone in facing this all myself. That if I didn't exactly have an ally I at least had someone that I could talk to. "Thank you," I let out a long breath, "really, I needed that."

He nodded in answer and I could see the veil slide into place. "So, why were you sent? I thought they finally got the point."

I frowned at him entirely confused, "What? Who?"

"Carson, or his parents. All have come several times." I could hear the bitter fury in his tone though he did his best to hide it. I wouldn't think about it until I was driving home that he hadn't claimed any of them as family. "Asking me for money, begging for money, telling me that I owe it to them." His eyes were hard and flat as he stared at me, marbles held in his skull. "So, which of them sent you here looking for money?"

I swallowed, a bit fearful now but I answered honestly, I had a feeling he wouldn't be made a fool. "None of them," I took a long breath and forced it out after he raised his eyebrow. "I came by myself, I didn't know where else to turn," it all came in a rush, a painful wave that had tears trickling down my cheeks again, "no one will lend us money, not the banks, not the quick-lenders, no one. Even Sarah and Parker don't have the money. Carson gambled away our rent money and we're going to be evicted tomorrow unless I can get my hands on twenty five hundred dollars to cover rent."

"Of course they don't have the money," his growl was feral, "would be helpful if Carson worked a god damn day in his life and Parker could hold down a job more than a few weeks."

I sniffed back tears and gratefully took the tissues he handed me and patted my eyes dry again before looking back at the arrogant asshole. "That's harsh." His eyes were spitting fire and I met it, "Parker can't hold a job down because no one respects him," I didn't rise to the bait as he snorted disdainfully, "As for Carson, you know he was in for a scholarship and championship if he hadn't been in that car accident that shattered his leg."

I glared at the arrogant prick that had the audacity to laugh. "Oh, yes, Mr. Golden Boy had it all lined up for him, didn't he?" He looked at me and I could practically feel the rage flowing off him, "He was so picture perfect, could get coasted on by through grades because he was so great, everyone was so proud of him, he would become so much." He snorted and glared at me like it was my fault, "So Mr. Golden Boy goes out, tries for training camp and you know what happened?" I shook my head, helpless before the onslaught of his anger, "Mr. Precious failed!" He didn't even sound gloating, just pissed, "he goes out drinking, ran a stop sign in front of one Becca O'Reilly, who so happened to be killed instantly. On her way to a date, a date who had no idea what was going on because this was before the age of cell phones."

A tear slipped down his cheek and it all slammed home with a sharp, vicious clarity. "She was coming to see you?" My voice broke on the whisper, as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

"It doesn't matter," it did, a lot, it had crushed this man before me, "but since he was the crushed football star who could never play again, he got all the attention, he got all the sympathy; not some pathetic drama student the rest of the world couldn't give a shit less about." He glared at me and I could see the pain, the self loathing, and the complete hatred for his own brother.

"I'm sorry I brought up such terrible memories, I had no right. I'm so sorry." I got up, stumbling as I blinked back tears as I went to leave when a soft voice stopped me.

"You still need the money," it cracked slightly and I turned back to watch him pull himself together with a strength that awed me. If not for the bloodshot eyes, I would never have guessed that I just ripped apart this man's soul.

"I'll get it some other way." I couldn't even look into his eyes for long, guilt stabbing me through the heart.

He shook his head, "There is no other way Tessiah, you and I both know that." He looked at me hard, "I'll give you five thousand dollars on two conditions." I blinked at him stupidly, not even following for a heartbeat, "one, you keep it away from Carson." I nodded, I didn't plan on trusting him with money again, "two," the slow smile that formed was all kinds of evil, "you come with me, alone, for a week long vacation in Mexico to get, acquainted."