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itsyourstarboy · 1 year

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Incorrect Quotes

·°★·Streamer!Honey Addition·★°·

Aka: Guy/Honey incorrect quotes but Chat is also there

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

*Guy sneezes*

Chat: Guy, are you sick? Here, let us wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby!

*Honey sneezes*

Chat: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

—

Honey: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Guy’s birthday invitations.

Chat: What were they supposed to say?

Honey: “Guy’s birthday”.

Chat: What do they say instead?

Honey: “Guy’s bi”.

Chat:

Chat: Works out either way.

—

Guy: Not gonna lie, I’m kind of afraid of Chat...

Honey: As you should be.

Guy: No, for real, they’re kind of-

Honey: As. You. Should. Be.

—

Chat: We all have our demons.

Guy, grabbing Honey: This one’s mine!

—

Honey: I lost Guy.

Chat: How did you LOSE Guy?!

Honey: To be fair, he is very small-

—

Chat: Hey, Guy? Can we get some dating advice?

Guy: Just because I’m with Honey doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

—

Chat: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Honey: I’m a knife.

Guy, across the room: They’re the little spoon.

—

Chat: If you get in trouble, we’re gonna be like... lawyers to you. Okay?

Guy: Okay.

*later*

Honey: Guy! Sit down on the chair, you’re in trouble.

Chat, whispering: Deny everything.

Guy, loudly: That isn’t a chair.

—

Honey: Hello all, it is I, your favorite person.

Chat: Actually, Guy is our favorite.

Honey: Okay then, it is I, that bitch.

—

Chat: Oh Honey, we have a visitor!

Honey: Don’t tell me it’s Guy.

Chat: It’s Guy.

—

Chat: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it?

Honey: What I do is, I look them up and down and I say: “Hey... how you doin’?”

Guy, scoffing: Oh, please.

Honey, to Guy: Hey, how you doin’?

Guy:

Guy: *giggles and blushes*

—

Guy: Honey got into a fight.

Chat: That’s bad.

Chat:

Chat: Did they win?

—

Chat: I dare you-

Honey: Guy is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Chat: Why not?

Guy: “I have no regard for my own or others personal safety”, as some would say.

—

Chat: So... who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon?

Guy: We’re chopsticks!

Chat: Well... that’s cute!

Chat: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?

Honey: No, it means that if you take one away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

—

Honey: Chat, Guy, I love you and all, but may I ask what in the hell are you doing?

Chat, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that Guy is sitting atop: Oh nothing much.

Guy: I love you too :)

—

Chat: H-how do you ask someone out?

Guy: Well, first-

Honey: Don’t ask him, he asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot.

Chat: ...And you said yes?

—

Chat: *looks at Guy*

Chat: Baby boy. Baby.

Chat: *looks at Honey*

Chat: Evil.

—

Guy: Hi.

Chat: Hey, did you do what we said? Did you tell them?

Guy: I did.

Chat: And what did they say?

Guy: “Thank you.”

Chat: You’re totally welcome. What’d they say?

Guy: They said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and Honey said, “Thank you.”

—

Guy: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Honey: Yes.

Guy: I love you.

Honey: It back.

*later*

Chat: Why is Guy crying face-down on the floor?

—

Honey: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-

Guy: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~

Honey: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-

Chat, recording: This is so cute.

—

Honey, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

Chat: Yeah, sure.

*a few minutes later*

Chat: Here you go.

Honey:

Chat:

Guy: Why am I here?

—

Honey: Why do you let me win when we race up the stairs? You’re the faster one.

Guy: Erm... it’s nice to see your smile when you win!

*later*

Honey: He’s probably just staring at my ass, isn’t he.

Chat: Yeah, probably.

—

Guy: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed.

Chat:

Chat: I’m gonna tell him.

Honey: Don’t you dare.

—

Honey: *sucking on a popsicle*

Chat: You practicing for when Guy gets here?

Honey: *takes a huge ass bite out of the popsicle*

Chat: *concern*

—

Guy: Honey doesn’t look very happy.

Chat: They are happy. They’re just a bitch.

—

Honey: Guy annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow.

Chat: There isn't anything special about tomorrow.

Honey: But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.

—

Chat: Why is Guy crying?

Honey: He saw a leaf on the sidewalk and-

Guy: IT LOOKED SO CRUNCHY!

Chat: Please don’t say what I think you’re gonna say-

Guy: AND WHEN I STEPPED ON IT THERE WAS NO CRUNCH!

Chat: NO, ANYTHING BUT THAT!

—

Honey: Where are you going?

Guy: To get MYSELF a gift, because somebody didn’t get me one!

Honey: I told you I did! It’s coming here on Friday!

Chat, knowing full well that Honey got Guy an engagement ring: *eats popcorn*

—

Chat: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Honey: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Guy walks in*

Honey: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Ah, Chat... The only original character, that is not actually a character (and is also multiple characters) of the Streamer!Honey series 😌😌

#redacted streamer!honey #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted incorrect quotes #redacted guy #redacted honey #redacted au

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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It is unreasonable rainy today. But I'm not really sure it was worth it for the schools to close. Or at least have a 2-hour delay caused all of the field trips to be canceled. I mean I enjoyed the day off but I'm not sure we actually needed it.

But I also don't know because I wasn't exactly awake this morning. I didn't wake up until after 9:00 and then it was just raining. It was gross. James said though so I'll hold my judgment.

I slept okay last night. My ear is really hurt. But I'm fine. I was looking forward to getting a lot done today but I woke up kind of in a bad mood. I felt very frustrated by messes throughout the apartment. And I started cleaning them up but I just got more and more upset. I made an omelet after I got dressed and I hit my head on the freezer door and just lost it. I was so mad.

So I ended up texting with James just telling them all the things I was angry about. And I didn't want to be a bitch to them but I also felt like they need to stop leaving uses around the apartment. And maybe our levels of what clean is is different but I hate when I feel like I go to bed after I reset the apartment and I wake up in the morning and it's all over the place again. It doesn't seem very fair. And they said they're going to do better. And I hope they do. Because it really upset me this morning feeling like I had to spend more than an hour of my surprise day off dealing with stuff that I had already done.

I did get some stuff done now that I had wanted to. Specifically changing the water in the fish and the frog tank. And I felt pretty good about the things I did. I wish I had done more cleaning honestly. But I just didn't have it in me after a bit. I didn't want to do a big clean. I wanted to pick everything up and then go work on my knitting and my quilting.

And so around 11:30 I got in bed with my temperature blanket and I got to work on that. I took three lines and watch some videos. And eventually moved to the studio to work on the quilt.

Working on the quote was the majority of the day. I finished all of the panels. And then took them to the living room to cut them all down so that they were more even. And then I spent like a good half an hour trying to figure out how to lay them out so that similar colors weren't on top of each other. But in the end a couple of them still did it anyway. But I was really happy with the size and whole vibe of the piece.

Sewing the rest of it together to another hour. And by the time it was 3:00 I was finishing up my last pieces. And I was so excited. It's going to need a back and binding still. If I want it to be an actual blanket. Or maybe I'll use this fabric that I've now created to make something else. I don't know. I just know that I feel very excited to have this one in the bag.

What's been the next hour and a half mostly just chilling. Watching videos and having a snack. Waiting for James to come home. It's funny that James was leaving the museum to bring the car back home so that I could come back to the museum. But it's fine. We do what we have to do.

And that's where I am now. I drove out here after me and James sat on the couch together for 20 minutes just holding hands while we scrolled on our own phones. And I showed James some of the stuff that I had thought about today. Specifically things about packing and toiletry bags and things like that. I did find out that James thought that me and Jess were going to Disney world this February. Which is insane. We are going next February. But I was glad that we could work on that kind of stuff in the few minutes we have together.

And now I'm running around the museum. There's some issues because Angie is sick and had to call out, and Kelly apparently is sick but she came in to cover. And everyone is kind of on edge. At least that's the vibe I'm getting. I'm in the print shop though and I'm having a nice night. It's a pretty small corporate party. Maybe I'll work on one of my calendars. Specifically fixing January and maybe doing one more day. We'll see.

Anything I write after this is going to be from later on in the night.

And later is now. It's almost 8:00 p.m. which ones I'll get to go home soon. And I got a really good night. Started really slow. I had so much time to work on my calendar that I only have like 3 months left. And I'm here tomorrow night so I'll probably finish them then. But I'm feeling really good. I had some really great conversations with people and one guy was a Chinese immigrant and he interrupted me when I was about to say that Gutenberg did not invent movable text, that the Chinese did. And so we had a great conversation about that because I was really excited to be correct. He couldn't answer my question if the reason he was inspired by them was theirs were wood and he made them out of metal. But he said he would look into it more. And so now I want to look into it more too. That's just what I've always been told but I haven't really done any research.

And everyone's been really sweet. It's really small group but they're really nice and there's like to come back. And because it's been so slow I've been able to spend more time talking to people about more things. Like little lithography stones. And it's just been really good. I am excited to go home now I'm pretty tired. Also hungry. And they did not feed me. I was hoping they would but it didn't happen. Whatever.

Tomorrow I have work all day and all night. But I have Saturday off so I'm not that worried about it. I really feel good right now which is nice. Just got to make sure I bring something to eat and drink. Then I'll have a good day.

Soon I'll go home to James and take a shower and get ready to go to sleep. I hope that it just cozy. And I hope that you are cozy too. Good night everyone. Be safe.

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pinerdish · 2 years

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I think im losing my mind

Try to relax and observe your thoughts instead of indulging them with details. Psychosis sucks and has many forms that pair swimmingly with emotional instability. If you press that this is urgent, they may fit you in much earlier or advise you to take more of an existing prescription. If you're established with a doc who prescribes psych meds already, give them a call or send a message asking for whatever it is you need. Those could hold you over until you get in to your doc, but they may be unwilling to do this. I just don’t get it why are we here for the 4th time to do the same thing and honestly this time abortion doesn’t sit well with my soul. Ok boom after that abortion he started to bring his son around more with him spending days at a time here in my home. For medication, you might be able to stop by an urgent care (whatever it's called where you live) and obtain a short-term prescription of meds you know to work for you. To me I felt that was a slap in my face honestly. If you go there wanting the help, you might find it quite beneficial. The difference is whether I wanted the help or not. Some of my stays have really benefitted me and gotten me back on track. Everybody has different experiences there. It doesn't necessarily have to be the emergency room and getting sent to the ward, though that's not always a terrible thing. If you're looking to get back on track, I'd suggest a stop by an emergency or crisis facility. I remember strange urges to set my face/head on fire that I could never quite explain, it's like total facial disfigurement was the goal or something. Fate must've been involved, because there were plenty of opportunities for others to be harmed as well. Thankfully I'm the only one who ever got hurt. I've done a lot of things during more acute periods that haunt me. It can be even harder to look back on those things when you're well. It's hard when you realize you're doing things unwittingly. This time I'm losing my mind That's right, said I think I'm losing my mind this time This time I'm losing my mind Yeah, you can't front on that But little do you know about something that I talk about I'm tired of driving it's due time that I walk about But in the meantime, I'm wise to the demise I've got eyes in the back of my head so I. You need to quit focusing on your physical health an work on your mental health. From a signed and numbered edition of only 25 pieces.I go through psychosis as well. Only to find out nothing was wrong with me. In precarious times like these, the effort alone can drive a being completely mad.Īs this current year of our lives stumbles & staggers to a close, you can almost hear the echoes in the wind. 'Every single day, the thinking and feeling being is doing everything it can to keep its mind and body focused. List of top 40 famous quotes and sayings about im losing my mind to read and share with friends on your Facebook. Good luck!Ībout the imagery depicting a Veil 'bear' in distress, Jermaine says: NOTE: Several prints in the edition have been personally remarqued (doodled) by Jermaine Rogers. This piece measures 26x18 inches and is screen printed with rich ink on Stardream Opal stock with a pearlescent finish. They will be randomly distributed throughout the orders. (NOTE: Several prints in the edition have been personally remarqued (doodled) by Jermaine Rogers, some heavily so. 'I Think I Am Losing My Mind.' KEYLINE Edition Art Print.

#I think im losing my mind

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srbachchan · 2 years

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DAY 5234

Kheu, Hyds June 11, 2022 Sat 11:24 AM

The night was disjointed , inclined to ignore the test of writing , to drive away into the confines of the self less , to be un enthusiastic , to avoid , to just allow the temperament to ride before , to feel compelled to be un compelled .. to just ..

SHUT UP .. !!! 🤐🤐🤐

But the morn has been alive .. drifting through the library of books behind me and randomly did pick one that has letters of Babuji collected and printed by them that have been able to gather several from several sources .. and for a while spent time in rushing through its pages , until after many that gave reason, sense, learnings , I found messages that gave reverence to Hanuman, just when I received images on my mobile of the deity , and quite by coincidence, came across this portion of a letter Babuji had written in response to a query by a letter writer ..

Apart from the religiosity of the matter and content, which really is not the intention - has never been on this platform - there were some aspects which were universal ..

The moments in his life when he was a non believer , an atheist , a nastik and then a change again ..

“Destiny has a brighter side to it as well .. religious belief is a gift of your upbringing your ‘ संस्कार ‘ sanskaar , the parental or generational up bringing .. it is difficult to get rid of it .. even when I was an atheist , I was a theist in some form or the other .. what we believe in, quite honestly, we ourselves do not know ..”

“Hanuman is the devta ‘देवता ‘ a divine presence , of will power .. nothing is impossible in the power of his will .. he is humble in front of God .. ‘मैं सेवक सचराचर’ .. mai sevak sacharachar .. I the server of the universe ( is the quote in his mention of him ) .. I believe in Hanuman .. on the Tuesday’s, the day of Hanuman, I do not eat , I fast .. in his ‘उपासना’ .. upasana , his worship his reverence , I believe I find strength and increased will power .. he is humble in front of God .. he sees the presence of the Almighty in ‘चर-अचर’ char-achar .. the moveable and the immoveable .. there is a very exalted sateek ‘सटीक’ description of him - Hanuman - in the Ram Charit Manas .. ‘रामचरितमानस’ .. ‘the lake of the good deeds of Ram’ “

(Ramayana was written by sage Valmiki in Treta Yuga in the Sanskrit language. Sage Valmiki was a contemporary of Lord Ram.

RamCharitManas was written by great Awadhi poet Goswami Tulsidas in Kaliyuga in Awadhi language. Tulsidas lived in the 15th century AD (1511–1623). The word Ramayana is made of two words — Ram and Aayanam (Story), thus the meaning of Ramayana is Ram’s story.

The word RamCharitManas is made of three words — Ram, Charita (good deeds) and Manas (lake), thus the meaning of RamCharitManas is Lake of good deeds of Ram.)

“In this World, for a struggling person like me , there is ever the need for will power .. and at the same time , humility ..really, how much there is to respect and praise the ‘मनीषा’ - thought , wisdom, intelligence .. of an Indian a Bharatiya .. he created or made the बानर ‘baanar’ , the animal monkey, a symbol, a प्रतीक prateek of will power .. his, the baanar , will power is the power strength that is ‘pashwik’ , पाशविक - pertaining to or characterising animals, bestial .. but he, Hanuman, was deputed in the service of Ram, Lord Ram ..”

“There was will power in Hitler and Gandhi too .. but Gandhi’s will power was designated, assigned for higher principles ..”

“Each one of us should choose our उपास्य upaasya .. that which is worthy of adoration, reverence , according to our nature .. perhaps our reverence bends towards it , on its own ..”

“I do not know why I found myself closer to Hanuman ..”

~ Harivansh Rai Bachchan

👣👣👣👣👣👣👣 .. 🙏🙏🙏 ... 🚩🚩🚩

In the mode of rest and moderation ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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caralara · 2 years

Note

I know everyone is up in arms about the return of F mentions but I am... thinking thoughts about timing and checkered theory. Two mentions in one day, but very minor in the radio interview and none in the direct quotes of the print interview. None prompted or relevant to the other subject matter at all. None that felt organic at all, either (I think, for example, if somehow we were wrong about F and he were organically bringing F up in these interviews, it would flow naturally in those direct quotes, not get shoved into a parenthetical).

From a PR/album promo perspective... no point. None at all. No one is buying his album because he's a good dad, and it's not like Alt Press readers care about that. Honestly, not even his existing fans care about that. And if it's not for promo and it's not organic, then I'm left wondering why. And a reason that I come back to is... groundwork for ending it. It was justified, he was rightfully angry and almost certainly being sabotaged by his team but... Louis did not come off as a good dad in early bbg days. And if it's going to end (and he's not going the burn it all down route), he needs to come off as a good dad. He can claim privacy, but if there's still early stories about the mess that was 2015-2016 and nothing to replace them, you just resurface bad stuff when you end it. If you casually seed quiet mentions of his son, not so much that it's awkward and forced (like Walls promo) but just like... closer to normal, and then things end, you have a much more organic story. And that article ALSO included that quote about Louis not wanting people to feel sorry for him, not wanting the narrative of his life to be things never going his way, so you have quotes to back up a kind of "move on, look to the future, give privacy and don't pity him" attitude when it ends. This timing feels to me like it fits with the theory that bbg might end in the slow period between album announcement and release, just because it feels a little heavy handed for an early next year end, and if that was the timing I'd think they try pretty hard to keep F out of the promo.

This is a long anon and I'm sorry but you're like... a rational person about bbg ending and I just have thoughts.

hi anon, first off - your last sentence gave me butterflies ngl hehe

Secondly - I can only give that back to you, what you’re laying out here, your observations make a lot of sense.

I said in a response to a different anon already today that his mention of Freddie was unprompted during the radio interview, and the print interview is also… not ver organic. Why mention Freddie when you’re listing the tragedies of his life?

I like your theory about the timing a lot, and I lean more towards this now, especially after attributing the September signalling to promo / album instead of babygate.

You’re welcome back in my inbox anytime to talk about this!!

#anon #babygate #bbg

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angsty-omi · 4 years

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pull the trigger.

CEO!Akaashi x Agent!Reader

synopsis: You were assigned to kill one of the richest businessmen in Japan, Akaashi Keiji. How? by getting close to him. By pretending to be an innocent, naive little girl. By pretending you actually enjoy his company. By pretending that you actually loved him. The plan was simple enough, and if you were successful, you’d be rich enough to retire for yourself and your future grandchildren. So, what happens when you couldn’t pull the trigger? Even worse, why didn’t he flinch?

“Agent Y/N, you’ve been assigned.” your boss notified.

It’s been so long since you had been assigned. After you accidentally blew up the evidence last mission, your boss hasn’t been to keen depending on you. This was music to your ears, so what did you do? Jumped gleefully and instinctively squeezed your boss. You realized what you were doing and how unprofessional it was, so you slowly latched off of her. Your boss just coughed awkwardly before she began, “This assignment is a big one, meaning there must be no flaws to this plan. One mistake and you’re done for, literally.” ending with a slit-throat gesture. You were confident in your skills, and aside from that one mission, everyone depended on you. No wonder why your boss came to you for this. You glad-fully shook her hand, in which expressed your disparity for a new high.

To start, you had to change your look a bit. See, you researched Akaashi Keiji, from his likes and dislikes to his convictions. Every conviction he got away with money. Dirty bastard. Every single job left you guilt-less because you knew these people were corrupt and somehow reasoned that your job was ethical. First, you started with a trim. Your split ends would’ve definitely caught the eyes of the girls from his front desk. Then, you used the budget money for this mission to buy luxury items. From Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, was this really for the mission or for yourself? No one really knows. Finally, and most importantly, you had to snatch a job as his personal assistant. The organization already falsified documents for you. After today, you go by ‘Akiyama Ami.’ As you walked out of your office, your coworkers couldn’t even recognize you. One even put a gun to your head, and having to state who you are.

You smirked, “Matsuda, I am deeply saddened if this is how you treat your advisor,” whispering in his ear.

“Senior Y-Y/N?,” he stuttered, putting his gun away immediately. You grabbed his arm and forcefully pushing it to his back, “please make sure you never make that mistake again,” you stated.

“Y/N, leave him alone already,” a voice joked.

You knew that voice. It was your long time partner, Atsumu. From when you both were rookies, you guys worked cases together quite often. Never more than that.

“Atsumu, this is my first case without you... aren’t you going to miss me?” you pouted.

“Don’t give me that look, idiot. Be safe out there okay? I can’t always save your ass like from that time you exploded our only evidence.” he shook his head in disappointment.

You punched his shoulder, and he ‘over-dramatically’ ached in pain. “I’ll be fine, Atsumu. Plus our person literally looks like a prissy privileged boy, doesn’t he?” you pulled up Akaashi’s Business Insider profile. For the next ten minutes, you guys were bullying the hell out of him. Until finally, you had to go. Your cab was already ready for you, so you hugged Atsumu goodbye. Platonically, you always thought you’d get married to him. He was handsome, strong, and witty. And he knew your job situation, so you never would have to feel judgement from him.

From the cab ride, you got to fly in a private jet. There, was your boss, two intelligent analysis, and a linguist. This was your team, and who’d you tell your intel to. The whole flight consisted of breaking down the plan, even down to what time you have to walk in the elevator. The destination was in Tokyo, where Akaashi’s main headquarters lived.

“I’ve made an appointment for your job interview,” One of them said.

“Here’s your resume,” The other said.

As you skimmed through, you spit your drink.

“I can speak more than five languages?!” your eyes widened.

“壊れた日本語で話せます” you quoted.

“What does that mean?” your boss asked looking at you surprisingly.

“It means I can only speak broken Japanese,” you nervously scratched your head.

“It wouldn’t matter, the job application is asking for english-speakers” the linguist stated.

As the plane started to screech, due to the wheels contact with concrete, you knew it was your time to shine. You practiced all your lines during the flight, so confidence soared through your body. On sight, there was a limo waiting for you. You waved goodbye to your team, and entered the lanky vehicle.

The condominium the organization gave you was luxurious, their budget must’ve been high-grade. Broad birched doors, huge window panels that let in a lot of natural light, and a master bedroom. Your first move was to jump on the feather-light bed. Your feet sunk deep into the mattress every hop. Leaving you tired, you went straight to sleep.

Today was your job interview. Even though everything was fake, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. If you didn’t go down the agency path, is this what you would’ve felt as a normal person? While the coffee was brewing, you decided to look at your grand closet, not knowing what to wear. There was already an outfit set out for you. With it, there was a note:

Good luck! ;) -Atsumu

As you read it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. The outfit he picked wasn’t even that bad. It was an emerald green two-piece, with a pale blouse underneath.

“Not so bad,” you thought, while looking at yourself in the mirror.

There, stood the building where the infamous person lived worked. Heels tapping the black marble, you stood in front of the front desk. The girls that worked there looked roughly young, around their early 20s. As they stared at you up and down, you could feel their judgement.

“Welcome to Fukurodani Headquarters, how may we help you?” One girl asked.

“Hi, I’m Akiyama Ami, I’m actually applying for the personal assistant job. Where could I meet my interviewer?” You warmly asked.

The girls bursted into laughter. What was so funny? Did you miss out on the joke?

“Excuse us, its just... that’s one way to call Akaashi Keiji,”

“Akaashi Keiji... is the interviewer? That’s even more stressful than a random person. It does make sense though, as a personal assistant there should be a close relationship,” you sighed.

“Close relationship? Please, you’ll be lucky if you can even give him coffee. Get in line.” The front desk scoffed in agreement with each other.

“That’s enough,” a voice commanded.

“Are you Akiyama Aki? I’m ready for you.”

Your face went pale. As you slowly turned around, there he was. The man himself, Akaashi Keiji. As an agent, you’ve went through strenuous training, so from the outside you looked relaxed as ever, but on the inside the butterflies in your stomach started awakening. He was a very attractive man after all.

“You must be Mr. Akaashi, let’s begin!” you enthusiastically smiled, while following him into his office.

“So Akiyama, tell me about yourself?” Akaashi read off a list.

“Well I was born in the states, but my parents are foreign. They enforced me to take a lot of language classes, hence why I know quite a lot.” You were dying inside. It was a half-true statement though, you were from the states and your parents are foreign.

“It says you speak French, Aimez-vous boire l'eau des toilettes?” He smirked.

You had no idea what he just said. The silence was deafening, so you just laughed it off. You’ve been told your laugh is very contagious, so you used that to your benefit. Your laughter increased, his did too.

After you both calmed down, he continued with his next question, “Out of all of the candidates, why should I hire you?”

“Well I guess my stats match up with everyone else, but what’s not on the textbook is my characteristics. I am dependable, calm, and honestly easy to work with. I will do my best to help you any way I can, and keep your stress levels at ease.” You smiled with confidence.

“Any way huh?” Akaashi whispered to himself. You acted like you didn’t hear his whisper. As an agent it was also one of your many talents to keep an ear out for anything.

“Akiyama, congratulations! you’ve gotten the job.” Akaashi put his hand out.

“R-r-really? That was only two questions” you tilted your head to the side. You could feel his glare as a response.

“Well, thank you anyways! My parents will be pleased.” you gushed as you shook his calloused hands. Parents? Please, more like your boss. You swore you could hear a ‘cha-ching’ sound effect in your head.

Over the next couple of months, you’ve been working under Akaashi. If he was staying up til’ 2 AM at the office, so were you. Continuously brewing coffee, while also printing papers, and keeping him company.

However, one day the routine changed. Prior to this day, your boss had just kept you up for the next order, so you were extremely tired. During the 2 AM session, your eyes slowly started to drift off, feeling the wave of drowsiness pound into your head. Akaashi walked into your office and was going to ask you for copies, until he saw you sleeping head down on your desk. At first, he was going to viciously shake you awake, but seeing your dainty face in the moonlight he couldn’t bring himself to. This was the first time he saw you vulnerable. Typically, when he would ask if you were tired, you would just shake it off with a bright smile. However, he knew. He could tell that you were pushing for him. So, he draped over his blazer around you, in hopes to insulate some warmth and went back to his office. Minutes later, you jerked yourself awake. You felt a strange piece of clothing around you, so you pinched at it while analyzing. Does it look like a weapon? No. Does it have any toxins? No. Could this harm you in any way, shape, or form? It honestly just looked like a plain blazer you thought. As you checked the shoulder pocket, there was an ID.

“Akaashi’s jacket huh?” you said to yourself, not even noticing the smile that crept up on your face. As soon as you caught yourself, you immediately slapped your face. Oh no. Quickly, you sent a picture of the ID, so that the agency can create a replica for future secret documents and shoved it back inside.

Knocking at the entrance to his office, he looked up at you with bagged eyes. His sleepiness radiated off of him, so you did what you promised on the first day-- relieve his stress levels. You pulled down the shutters of his clear office so no one could look in. In addition, setting up the couch to where there was a pull up bed under it.

“Miss Akiyama, if you’re trying to seduce me you could’ve just said so,” He flirtatiously grinned. You rolled your eyes in response, and grabbed him to the bed.

“I like where this is going, Ami, I didn’t think you were so bold.”

“Just shut up and get some rest, I’ll appoint some things out so your projects aren’t due.”

As he opened his mouth, you anticipated that he was for sure going to deny. However, no words came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed your wrists and pulled you onto the bed with him.

“I’ll accept, on the conditions that you, too get some rest.”

Too tired to argue, you complied. As you both fell asleep, with his arms wrapped around you.

a/n: i was planning on making this a one shot but i feel like this might be a multiple part-er(?)

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #hq akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff

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utilitycaster · 3 years

Text

So, to keep dunking on Pathfinder/3.5e and also for lack of a better term...indie, looser systems, I do have a handful of reasons why the systems themselves don't sound like things I'm into but more generally the reason I keep making cheap jokes is because the way people sell these systems is so antithetical to what I want out of TTRPGs. Which doesn't mean they're not good, or that they're not right for other people! But god...you are not superior for liking something other than D&D 5e, you are just a person who isn't into that particular experience and if you want to get people to play other games...learn to fucking sell it.

The crunch of pathfinder has some appeal, because I do love math and rules, but it always feels like the arguments go like this.

"I can't figure out how DCs in 5e get set!"

"well, the DM sets it based on a rough estimate of difficulty, using their brain; the DM's Guide gives a scale broken down by 5-point increments that you can use."

"What? You mean I, an inveterate metagamer cannot find it by adding up 8 numbers based on the weather, my class, my feats, active spells, and the migration patterns of nearby birds in a process that brings the narrative to a screeching halt?"

Or else it goes like this (this is a literal screenshot from a reply on a shitpost I made about paladin archetypes):

Well, in 5e you are allowed to ride things without being good at dex on the grounds that the average normal person in a pre-industrial society would probably be able to sit on a horse (animal handling is also an option). You can play a halfling paladin by playing a halfling whose class is paladin, and if you cast summon steed a reasonable DM will allow you to flavor said steed as a celestial wardog. You do not need special abilities to...turn around? in 5e? damn you lived like this? and sure, you can have a spear or lance as your weapon. I guess charging doesn't do much in 5e (the charger feat exists but isn't amazing) but like, you could do it.

Like, seriously, so many posts are like "I don't see a ruleset for how I can confirm I was able to drink my coffee without dropping it on the floor? 5e seems bad" and in general 3.5e/Pathfinder appear to treat your character as a Sim or something, where if the ladder disappears from the pool you're just like "guess I'll die" [note: I haven't played either 3.5e, Pathfinder, nor the Sims but like. I'm right.] And if you want to play this that's fine! Crunch can be very fun! but god it's unnecessary and it seems like there are too many rules for the sake of just like, having rules.

Moving on to the looser systems, the "just a d100" or "just a d6" ones that "foster more RP": so many of these "foster more RP" by having systems that actively corral the conversation, or PC emotions, instead of just...letting people talk. I actually find things like Monsterhearts "turn someone on" mechanic or the sanity mechanics in Call of Cthulhu really off-putting! I'd rather be allowed to respond to things genuinely, in character.

"But M," you say "that's kind of the point of Call of Cthulhu, the sanity slippage." And you know what? You're absolutely right! Because that is where my point is leading:

The TTRPG game you pick should be mostly based on the kind of story you want to tell, and anyone who ignores that in their considerations can themselves be ignored.

I happen to enjoy Dungeons & Dragons because I enjoy that particular form of fantasy in a quasi-early renaissance* setting, and I would, perchance, like to explore a dungeon and maybe even fight a dragon. I do not want to be dealing with horrors beyond comprehension**, except in the sense that I'd like to smite/disintegrate/viciously mock them. I do not want to pretend I am in high school again, under literally any circumstances, even if I can hex people. I like fantasy combat because I am both simmering with incandescent range basically always and yet I cannot typically act on it*** and I'd like to be able to save the world through hitting things with a sweet-ass sword or casting. Hyping up a system because it lacks combat is absolutely the wrong tack with me.

And if you don't like that it's fine! But I have yet to see someone actually make an argument, to me specifically, for a different system, that actually accounted for even a whiff of my own personal preference and honestly at this point the damage, while not irreversible, is pretty severe; my attitude towards anyone trying to steer me from D&D 5e is pretty cynical.****

*look I will pick many battles on any hills wagering that ultimately I will only die on one and this is on the list. Anyway if printed books are available and gunpowder has reached your vaguely European-in-flavor society? It's Renaissance.

**always thought this quote was from Lovecraft but it's from Tesla, objectively a much better dude despite a shitty dude using his name to sell cars.

***Yes. I am an eldest daughter. Why do you ask.

****This is also the root cause of why I adamantly refuse to watch either Titanic or Finding Nemo.

#did u know: caring about people's motivations is helpful in motivating them #kids i have to be honest with you: the wizard breakdown tracker was a great rambly writing outlet I no longer have #i should maybe channel this into actually writing fanfic? or I can drink weird gin & lemonades and write this.

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

Just a collection of Alex, Echo, and Jo incorrect quotes from a generator.

Jo: Some people are like slinkies. Echo: What? Jo: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs. Echo: Echo: Please don't push Alex down the stairs. Jo, pushing Alex down the stairs: Too late.

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Alex: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Echo has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them. Jo: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don’t want to be at? Alex: I knew you’d understand.

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Alex: We're having a baby. Echo: Oh, congradu- Jo, slamming adoption papers onto the table: It's you, sign here.

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Echo: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a. Jo: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Alex: Fuck you.

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Echo: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Alex. Jo, excitedly: Did they get me the stuff? Echo: Yeah, they say they got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood. Jo: Wow! Where’d they find 12 gallons of fake blood? Echo: You wanted fake blood? Jo: Echo: I’ll go call Alex.

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Alex: Nice rock. Jo: Thanks, Echo gave it to me. Echo: I threw it at you! Jo: Aren't they the sweetest?

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Alex: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Jo: How? Alex: I need someone to take the fall. Jo: What did you do? Alex: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Echo, from the other room: Oh my god. Alex: ... Echo: OH MY GOD! Jo: Make it a hundred. Alex: Deal.

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Echo: So, what is Jo to you? Alex: The reason I wake up every morning. Echo: ...That’s adorable. Jo earlier that morning, barging into Alex′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!

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Alex: I mean. Echo's just standing there now. Alex: Waiting for me, I guess. Alex: But it's okay, I think they've pretty much settled down. Jo: Settled down? Alex: Well, they only stabbed me once.

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Jo: Can we go out to get icecream? Alex: Did you ask Echo? Jo: They said no. Alex: Then why did you ask me? Jo: They're not the boss of you. Alex, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

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Echo: Would you slap Alex- Jo: Yes. Echo: I didn't even finish! Jo: Sorry, continue. Echo: Would you slap Alex for 10 dollars? Jo: I would do it for free. Alex: Rude...

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Echo: Is this your plan B? Alex: Technically, this is plan P. Echo: Plan P? Is there a plan M? Alex: Yes, but I marry Jo in plan M. Jo: I like plan M.

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Echo: The moon looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Alex, looking at Echo: Yeah… but do you know what’s more beautiful? Echo and Alex in unison: *sighs* Jo

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Alex: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car? Jo: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Echo, deer!" Alex: ...And what did Echo do? Jo: ...They said "Yes, Honey?"

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Echo: Did Jo just tell me they loved me for the first time? Alex: Yeah, they did. Echo: And did I just do finger guns back? Alex: Yeah, you did.

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Echo, at Jo: Would you like to stay for dinner? Alex, from the kitchen: Would you like to stay forever!?!

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Echo talking at Alex’s funeral: You do know we’re burying a great person today! Jo, shocked: Did someone else die?

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Echo: Hey I just got a pet snake. What should I name him? Alex: A pet WHAT?! Jo: William Snakespeare.

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Alex: Jo has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them. Echo: That can't be true! Alex: Watch this. Alex: Hey Jo, race you to the bottom of the stairs! Jo: *Throws themself out a window*

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Alex: What are you guys doing? Echo: Like in life in general or- Jo: Not much. Why, what's up? Alex: I dunno, I’m bored playing AC. Jo: Assassins Creed? Alex: Animals Creed. Echo: Assassins Crossing.

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Echo: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on Alex without them noticing? Jo: Hey, Alex, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny. Alex: *takes and swallows tracker* Pay up, loser. Echo: ...

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Alex: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. Echo: Echo: I'm gonna tell them. Jo: Don't you dare.

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Echo: What time is it? Jo: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out Jo: *BLASTS the saxaphone* Alex: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING Jo: It’s 2 am

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Alex: Would you take a bullet for me? Echo: ...yes? *Jo angrily burst into the room* Alex: *running away* Great, thanks!

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Jo: What makes you think it's okay to watch Hannibal given its subject matter? Echo: Sometimes, I watch television shows for entertainment purposes. Alex: Because I condone murder and cannibalism.

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Alex: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees? Echo: Bees? Alex: THEY HAVE SELECTED THE BEES! Echo: Wait- *Jo approaches, shaking a jar of bees menacingly*

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Echo: Jo and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us. Alex: What did you do? Echo: Jo chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and- Jo: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?

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Jo: I lost Echo. Alex: How did you LOSE Echo?! Jo: To be fair, they are very small.

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Echo: Who do we know that has handcuffs? Alex: Well Jo and I- Jo: *elbows Alex* Alex: ...wouldn't know.

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Jo: What’s it like being tall? Jo: Is it nice? Jo: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? Alex: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want. Echo: It was one time!

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Jo: I told Alex that their ears turn red when they lie. Echo: Do they? Jo: No. Echo: Then why did you tell them that? Jo: Because I can do this. Jo: Hey Alex! Do you love us? Alex, with their hands over their ears: No.

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Jo: Is Alex always like this when they lose? Echo: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the Great Jenga Tantrum of 2015. Alex: You bumped that table and you know it!

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Alex: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Echo's birthday invitations. Jo: Well, what are they supposed to say? Alex: "Echo's birthday". Jo: So, what do they say instead? Alex: "Echo’s bi". Jo: Jo: Works out either way.

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Echo: Alex got into a fight. Jo: That’s bad. Jo: Jo: Did they win?

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Echo: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it? Jo: Oh, what I do is, I look them up and down and I say: “Hey… how you doin’?” Alex, scoffing: Oh, please. Jo, to Alex: Hey, how you doin’? Alex: Alex: *giggles and blushes*

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Echo: That shirt looks great, Alex. Alex: Thanks. Echo: But I bet it would look even better on Jo's floor. Jo: Are you hitting on Alex... for me?

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Echo: Hey, do you know the password to Alex’s computer? Jo: Fuck you, Echo. Echo: Hey!! Jo: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouEcho". Echo: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

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Jo: Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted. Alex: I’m “a couple of things”. Echo: I’m “got distracted”.

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*playing twister* Echo: Right hand red. Jo: *ends up on top of Alex* Alex: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Echo: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.

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Jo: Where are my fucking keys? Alex: Jo, Echo is around, can you say it a little nicer? Jo: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

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Alex: A sprite is anything not static. Echo: A sprite is a variable object, be it 2d or 3d. Jo: A sprite is a fucking soda. Jo: You god damn geekass bastards.

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Jo: Echo! What did I tell you about lying? Echo, looking down: ...That it only works on Alex.

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Echo: What are you writing? Alex: The government wants to know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information. Jo, looking over Alex's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

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Echo: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?! Alex: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long line of violence. Echo: Oh... Jo, from across the room: I don’t understand how you keep forgetting that.

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Alex: If you get in trouble, I'm gonna be like... a lawyer to you. Ok? Echo: Okay. *later* Jo: Echo! Sit down on the chair, you're in trouble. Alex, whispering: Deny everything. Echo, loudly: That isn't a chair.

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Jo: Why do you let me win when we race up the stairs? You’re the faster one. Alex: Erm... it’s nice see your smile when you win! *later* Jo: They're probably just staring at my ass, aren't they. Echo: Yeah, probably.

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Echo: *speaking Spanish* Jo: I know, I know. Alex: You speak Spanish? Jo: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Echo speaks.

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Jo: Alex, what are you doing? Alex: Making chocolate pudding. Jo: It's four in the morning, why are you making chocolate pudding? Alex: Because I've lost control of my life. Alex: Here's your pudding, Echo. Echo: Oh that's okay, I'm not hungry anymore.

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Alex: I know you love them. Echo: I am not in love with Jo! Alex, staring at Echo: I never said who... Echo: *realizes* Echo: Shit. Well, anyways-

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Echo: Coca Cola can remove rust from metal, imagine what it’s doing to your body. Jo: Pfff, getting rid of the rust, idiot. Echo: THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS! Alex: Hmm... I've been drinking soda and my body's rust free... not sure where you're getting your facts from...

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Jo: Yo dumbass, get over here. Echo: Okay- Alex: *gleefully runs past* I’m coming! Echo, sadly: I thought... I was dumbass...

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Jo: But what about Alex? Echo: Don't worry about them. Echo: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

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Echo: I hope you have an explanation for this. Alex: We have three actually- Jo: Pick your favorite.

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Alex, to Echo: You know, Jo can be really aggressive, so it's important to take all the necessary precautions when approaching. Alex: *blows airhorn at Jo* GET FUCKED!

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Echo & Alex: *accidentally set the kitchen on fire* Echo: We need an adult! Alex: Echo, you are an adult! Echo: We need an adultier adult! Get Jo!

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Jo: Are you a painting? Alex: What-? Jo: Because I want to pin you to a wall. Echo: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG THEM OR SOMETHING-

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Alex, bursting into the room: You two are having sex! Jo, not looking up from their book: Really? Echo, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

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Alex, excitedly: Heeyy!! Echo: Hey, someone's excited. Jo, deadpan: Yeah, and it's making me sick.

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Echo: When Alex has daiquiris they get really into how beautiful they are. Alex: Hey, I dare you guys to dare us to make out. Jo: Hey Alex, you know that’s a mirror, right?

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@chadillacboseman @roofgeese

#there's more than i thought there were #but these are all now canon #idk where all of these are from #but the pudding one is rugrats #jo #gaits #alex demir #echo

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moon-in-daylight · 4 years

Text

Stay the night / Count Orlo x reader

Summary: It’s the evening before Catherine’s birthday, and knowing what her plans for the special day are, you have to decide whether if you warn Orlo or not.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: So remember over a month ago when I said I wanted to write Orlo fluff? Well, I wasn’t able to write it until recently. I didn’t edit this and I’m posting it at 2 am so forgive any typos that you may find. I’m just really impatient once I finish writing something and I really can’t wait to share it 😂 Also, thanks to the anon that sent this because it practically gave me the whole idea for this fic. Sorry for the delay 😅

Orlo’s mellow voice echoed through the empty room as he read aloud for the both of you. Written words came out of his tongue naturally, as if he was the one choosing what to say instead of just reading the thoughts of another person. He had that gift of making the most boring writings sound like poetry when he read them for you. You were sure that even the dullest treaties he had to redact for Peter would sound delightfully sweet, if he was the one reading them.

The loving tone he used when he knew you were listening, the dedication he put into every sentence, reciting every word with a passion you had rarely seen in any other man at court… As you leant your head on his shoulder, you wished you could enjoy the soothing sound of his voice just like you used to do every night. But, much to your disgrace, this wasn’t just any other night.

Maybe it was for Orlo. As far as you could tell, he was oblivious to all the chaos going through your mind. And you wished you could be as well as you tried to focus on the way he took and released the air around you as he spoke.

He didn’t have the slightest clue, but tomorrow would be a decisive day for the two of you. Not only for the two of you. The whole of Russia could be marked forever by the events that were to come. Tomorrow was Catherine’s birthday, and as one of her most loyal confidantes, you had been chosen to carry the burden of knowing what her plans for the day were.

You had thought that she was joking at first when she told you that she was pregnant, and you even laughed when she let you know that all she wanted as a birthday gift was her husband’s head on a silver plate. But you froze when you realized she was being as serious as ever since she had arrived that godforsaken excuse of a court. She was determined to take the step, to finally kill Peter and take his place the next morning. Seeing the passionate way she spoke of the events that were to come, you knew nothing could have make her change her mind.

It wasn’t that you weren’t glad that Peter was about to get what he deserved. You hated him with every fiber of your being and you couldn’t wait for the moment that he paid for everything he had done to your country, that was why you had chosen to take part in her coup and drag Orlo into it as well. But as the moment of taking the final step approached, you couldn’t help but torture yourself with all the horrible outcomes your plans could bring.

If the coup failed, a quick public execution would be the most desirable destiny for you. Your body trembled when you thought about the physical tortures and punishments you would be subjected to if Peter identified you as one of the plotters. But that worry you felt for your well being didn’t even compare to what you felt when you thought of what losing Orlo would be like.

Orlo had been your friend for years, and now that your relationship was finally developing into something more, you couldn’t bare the thought of losing him. For years you had been meeting in the library at the most remote times of the day, sharing his company and a decent book in the dim light of candles being all you needed to clear your mind of the idiots you had to deal with at court. He had been the most important person to you ever since you had arrived that awful place, the only person that had showed to you some real, uninterested kindness.

You hadn’t been able to avoid developing deeper feelings for him almost immediately, but thinking that he wasn’t interested in you, you had kept them a secret for years, hoping that way you wouldn’t lose your closest friend. You had felt utterly stupid when, after coming back from his unfortunate trip to the front, he had decided to tell you what he truly felt for you in an act of alcohol-induced bravery.

Only a few weeks had gone by since you had gotten together, and honestly not much had changed in your relationship. You still did the same things you had always done. You talked for hours on end, share any and every interesting book or quote you read with each other, go for a walk through the palace gardens… The only difference was that you no longer had to hold yourself back when you felt like grabbing his hand or giving him a little peck on the lips.

It felt as if you had been wasting your time all those years, and you weren’t ready for what you both had to be over. Catherine’s birthday could mean the end of everything you actually enjoyed about that place, because even if you succeeded in getting Peter out of the throne, there was still a high risk that either you or Orlo had to sacrifice your lives for the cause.

You hadn’t mind dying back when you had first joined the coup. Back then, you didn’t have anything to hold on to and you wouldn’t have mind to give your life for a greater good. Now that you had Orlo by your side, you were scared of losing the one good thing that you had.

For the first time since you could remember, you were terrified.

His voice seemed to be drifting away from you as you felt a sharp pain inside your chest. It wasn’t fair. You would never forgive yourself if something did happen to Orlo the next day. You would always remember that you had been to one to drag him into that situation.

“Orlo…” You called his name in a low tone, immediately gaining his attention as he looked away from the book and right back at you.

You wanted to apologize to him. To tell him just how terrified you were and ask him to run away with you far away from that palace, move to another country if needed. You had more than a bad premonition about the following day, and your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled not to share those anxious thoughts with him.

This could be the last night that you got to spend by his side. He seemed so blissful there, reading to you. So calmed and unaware of the horrible thoughts that clouded your head… You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t make him carry that burden too. Orlo deserved every second of happiness he could get, and you wouldn’t have been able to be the one bringing him bad news. He’d know about Catherine’s plans when he strictly had to, not a second earlier.

“Am I boring you?” He innocently asked as he put the book on his lap, trying to disguise his true fear of being boring with a kind smile and an amusing intonation in that question. He had slowly learned to become comfortable around you, vulnerable. But sometimes you could still see glimpses of old shy, nervous Orlo when his insecurities hunted him.

“Of course not.” The reassurance you gave him seemed to bring him back to that previous state of peace he had been enjoying during that whole evening. “I could never get bored of you.”

He didn’t need to give you an actual answer for you to notice his disbelief of your words. A simple, practically unnoticeable blush of his cheeks and the way his eyes immediately avoided looking directly at you were enough for you to notice the incredulity he still demonstrated at the thought of someone being able to love him.

“I hope you know I mean it.” You added, reaching his cheek with one of your hands and caressing it softly as you removed the book that still laid on his lap so you were the one resting above him instead.

Grabbing his chin carefully, you guided his stare so that it would meet yours, his chocolate brown eyes reflecting some of the dim light of the room. He had removed his characteristic glasses recently, and you weren’t quite accustomed to see him so… Naked yet. The absence of them allowed you to look into his eyes with no barrier in between, and though you had to admit you kind of missed that accessory of him, there was no comparison to what getting lost in his uncovered eyes felt like. You could get lost on them for hours.

Observing the way he stared back at you in deep affection and devotion, you even forgot about everything else going on for a second. For just that one moment, you could pretend everything was okay.

“Remember when we met?” Your fingers traced the outline of his jaw as you recalled the first time you had seen him.

“I got scared when I heard the door because no one else but me used to spend time here.” He evoked his memories of that first day too. “You were surprised when you saw me too. You were crying and you had run in here hoping you could be alone.”

“The Ladies here can be really mean.” You smiled at him as you remembered how you were affected by the comments of other people when you first arrived the palace. It had been long since you last cared about those things. Truth was you had stopped caring about the Ladies’ opinions once you had started to prefer Orlo’s nicer ones instead.

“I tried to comfort you.” Orlo kept relating the events of that day as he let his hands rest on either side of your waist, embracing you softly. “I didn’t know what to do, I felt so bad that you were suffering so pointlessly… I read some Descartes to you, because it always helps me to see things with perspective…”

“Conquer yourself rather than the world.” You recited one of the quotes Orlo had read to you, the one that had been printed in your mind since that day.

“I’m sure I bored you more than I helped you relax.”

“That’s not true.” You intervened again, refusing to let him indulge in his own negative perception of himself. “You helped me a lot. You didn’t have to, but you stayed with me until I felt better. No one else would have done that.”

When he looked away from you in embarrassment, you decided to draw his attention back at you by kissing him on the lips. He should have been accustomed by now, but he still froze for a few seconds every time you kissed him unexpectedly. Far from being bothered by it, you felt touched whenever you got that reaction from him, and you delighted yourself when you finally felt him moving his lips against yours one the initial shock was over.

It was those little things that had made you fall so deep for Orlo. Those were the things you were most afraid of losing. Thinking about the fact that it could be the last time you kissed him, you deepened the kiss as your fingers started to play with the few locks of hair that fell messily around his head.

“I love you, Orlo.” You whispered softly, quickly hiding your head in his chest. “Please, don’t ever forget that.”

It was inevitable that the tears started forming in your eyes, and you couldn’t hold them back anymore when Orlo surrounded your body with his arms. Bringing you even closer to him as he repeatedly kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too.” He muttered, the feeling of guilt while seeing you cry overcoming every shyness he could still have left. “I… I’m sorry if it sounded as if I don’t. You’re the most important thing to me and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you. I’m really sorry… Please, don’t cry…”

“It’s not your fault.” You quickly assured him, once again refusing to let him self-flagellate. “It’s okay.”

“What is wrong?” Orlo asked, trying to clean the tears that already felt down your cheeks as you silently calmed yourself. If you died tomorrow, you didn’t want that you crying was the last memory he kept of you.

“Nothing is, I promise.”

You knew you hadn’t sounded confident enough for him to believe you, but you weren’t able to tell him what was really going on. All you wanted was to enjoy that night with him and stretch it as long as you could in fears it was actually going to be your last. Cuddled against his chest, you wished for him not to ask anymore questions, fearing that you wouldn’t be able to keep the secret from him much longer.

His hands kept moving up and down your back as you tried to calmed yourself down.

“Is there anything I can do?” Orlo worriedly asked, still trying to help despite not knowing what the situation was. You had always admired that of him, his predisposition to help even when he didn’t know how.

Focusing on the calming rhythm of his breathing, you tried to find the right words to express what you needed without ruining this evening for him.

“Would you stay the night with me?”

“Of course. Anything you need.” He agreed, wrapping you tighter with his arms.

Accommodating yourself inside his embrace, you wished for a way to be able to stop time in that precise moment.

#Count Orlo x reader #Orlo x reader #Hulu's The Great #Sacha Dhawan #Hulu's The Great fanfiction #Count Orlo x you #Orlo x you #The Great #The Great fanfiction

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

Text

Ya know what these self-indulgent Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow posts need? Self-indulgent banner art, that’s what.

Spoilers for issue #4!

Let’s start this off right with CREATOR CREDITS. Issue 4 of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow is titled “Restraint, Endurance, and Passion.” Written by Tom King, Art by Bilquis Evely, Colors by Matheus Lopes, Letters by Clayton Cowles, and Edited by Brittany Holzherr. (w/ Assist. Editor: Bixie Mathieu & Senior Editor Mike Cotton)

THE STORY:

Right, so this? This issue? Best one yet.

Also the bleakest of the bunch thus far; even though we don’t always see the brutality of the space pirates that Kara and Ruthye are following, there’s...the suggestion of it. The aftermath. And how Kara responds to it.

Okay, getting a little ahead of myself. BASIC PLOT SUMMARY: Ruthye and Kara continue their pursuit of Krem, who has taken up with Barbond’s Brigands.

The Brigands basically just. Murder and terrorize people, for profit.

Each planet they visit brings new horrors, as well as people who need Supergirl’s help.

And help she does.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

I yell a lot about the art on this book, and have, in fact, openly admitted that I’m primarily here for Evely and Lopes.

Well, that wily son-of-a-gun King went and wrote some of the best ‘Super’ stuff I’ve ever read and dang it, dang it, now I gotta yell about the words too. XD

Specifically, I wanna yell (in a good way!) about some words that occur towards the very end of the book.

Kara and Ruthye have Seen Some Things; things like genocide and mass grave sites and horrible violence, and upon reaching a planet where peaceful monks were slaughtered, Kara’s had enough, and needs to leave because if she screams, she’ll destroy what little is left of the monks’ monastery.

Here’s the text in full, because my gosh. It’s so good:

“What I write next I write based on my observations in those long-ago days at the side of the greatest warrior in the history of this august reality we all call home. It is important to note that my assertions do not rely on anything Supergirl said. It was not a subject we ever discussed or even approached, but nonetheless I believe it to be as true as the turning of worlds. You see, what is not well understood about the daughter of Krypton is that her power was not one of action but one of restraint, endurance, and passion. She did not choose to fire a beam from her eyes, or have breath of ice, or run faster than a speeding bullet. Or any of her other well-documented miracles. No, she held back her heat vision to look you in the face. She warmed her breath to converse with you. She slowed herself to walk by your side. Ever moment of every day, she suppressed the forces churning inside of her. All of the energy of a dead world that strained against her many barriers, eternally demanded to be released. I believe this effort hurt her. I believe she lived her life in pain. But I reiterate again, for I think it important enough to repeat--These beliefs are based on my time at her side, watching her as she moved through strife and sorrow. If you were to have asked her, I have little doubt she would have claimed that such as assertion was absurd. She would say she felt fine and well and then she’d as you if you needed any help.”

A long chunk of words, I know (this comic is DENSE!) but like. This is it. This is one of the defining attributes of the Supers--all that raw power at their disposal and they choose to help people, to be kind, to suppress that power for the benefit and safety of others.

HNNNNNNNG.

Hope, Help, and Compassion for All.

Whole lotta folks claimed at the outset of this book that King did not understand Kara, that he was a bad fit. And that may be so, I suppose--there’s a whole other discussion about like. The violence and swearing and ‘does that belong in a Supergirl book?’ But the characterization? Getting that Kara and Clark are just good people?

King gets it. He got it in Superman: Up in the Sky and he gets it here, in Woman of Tomorrow.

Other things King gets! Kara is stubborn! Kara is passionate! Kara is going to fix things, even if the effort of doing so hurts her, physically, emotionally, and mentally!

(Fuuuuuuun fact for the crowd saying that Woman of Tomorrow is vastly superior to the CW show: TV Kara is ALSO all of those things! King isn’t pulling this stuff out of thin air. It’s almost like...gosh. I don’t know! Both the show and Tom King are pulling from the character’s comic history, or something!!!! HOW NOVEL.)

Like, seriously. There’s a lot of overlap. Stop pitting Karas against each other!

Anyways!

I promised art, so here is art!

Oh, right, forgot to mention, Kara literally THROWS HERSELF INTO THE SUN to express her grief and anger, so as to not cause that unnecessary destruction. She gives new meaning to the phrase: Set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.

More art yelling: GOTTDAMN, the way Evely draws Kara just colliding with the surface of the sun and then the way Kara’s hair like...becomes the flames...

I am FEELING FEELINGS. HOW DARE.

Also, props to King and Cowles; King for deciding to have that initial scream, Cowles for the way the letters burst forth from the point of impact on the sun, and then back to King who decided that it would just be...devastating silent screaming from Kara, for the remainder of the scene.

Back to the characterization, I just wanted to highlight something I mentioned...earlier on, I think? In these posts? But haven’t brought up recently, and that is how this book has not once brought up Zor-El, and I think Superman only got a quick mention in issue 2.

Honestly, I think that’s gotta be some kind of record.

It’s so refreshing. Not because I think there should never be mentions of Clark, or anything--I love that boy--but because so much of modern Supergirl comic drama is mined from the same like, angsting over her place compared to Clark, or her crazy sometimes-a-supervillain dad.

There is no Clark and Kara drama here, no manufactured friction, because it’s just. A cool Supergirl story!

Gonna keep going, but let’s do it with some more...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Once again, Mat Lopes is all over the dang place with his palettes, it’s marvelous.

Each new planet gives Evely the opportunity to go hog wild on the worldbuilding and design, and similarly! Each new locale is an opportunity for Lopes to set the tone with colors. Like, here, towards the beginning of the book, we’ve got a planet bathed in this warm, pale yellow/orange light.

(Quick note: “Sure, yeah, I get it. We all have our duties. And it’s mine as a neighbor to do what I can to help you with yours. Please.” A+ Kara content. We love to see it. And then locating the remains of the alien’s daughter, so that they can go visit the grave site and have some emotional closure???? It’s just. So. Touching.)

Anyways, back to colors.

Like!!!! LOOK AT THAT JUMP. From the soft, almost pastoral feel of the delicate oranges and yellows to HARD GREEN, PINK, AND PURPLE. (Difficult colors to pull off in print, I might add.)

(This is also an interesting scene, character-wise, because I think it helps re-contextualize some earlier stuff with Kara. Like, I’m mostly thinking that incident on the bus, where she was swearing at the passengers as the space dragon was about to destroy them. Here, we see Kara kind of...goad this alien woman into releasing her pent up emotions by yelling at her/getting her to fight, and you can clearly see at the end of it that Kara did not mean the things she said, because check this out:

She goes and gives her a hug once the woman is able to finally cry.

It’s not ‘Kara is being mean, Kara is swearing at her’, it’s, ‘Kara has an unorthodox solution to a problem, and she’s gonna FIX that problem, NO MATTER WHAT.’

Circling back to the bus thing--again, that could be an instance of ‘unorthodox approach to a weird situation that Kara is going to handle because lives are at stake.’)

But also, DIG THAT KIRBY KRACKLE, BAY-BEEEEE!

And a little Strange Adventures easter egg! The Pykkts!

(I think those guys are unique to the Black Label series, rather than deep Adam Strange lore, but don’t quote me on that.)

Moving on to YET ANOTHER PALETTE, one I’ve dubbed, ‘Treasure Planet Purple/Grey’

Love Ruthye’s snoozing against the door, waiting for Kara.

Also, just as striking as the colors of the environment, are the colors used on Kara.

If you compare this page with the previous one, Kara’s eyes are a paler shade of blue, and the red-rimmed look on her eyes here is not as intense as the red-rimmed look we saw back in issue one, when she was confronting Krem.

All of which to say! There’s a pale, haunted quality to both the linework and the colors. Like. We know Kara has Seen Some Things. But she’s shoving all that stuff down to protect Ruthye, to save Krypto, and to stop these monsters, and you get all of that WITH COLORS AND LINES ON A PAGE.

I love it, I love it so much.

OTHER BOOKS WISH THEY HAD THIS LEVEL OF CHARACTER ACTING, I TELL YA! THEY WISH THEY HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL ALCHEMY OF INKER, COLORIST, AND WRITER WORKING IN SUCH TIGHT TANDEM!

Ahem. XD

Alright, last bit of art, lest I just. Post the whole issue in here. (Which I’m honestly always tempted to do but Strong Feelings about Piracy hold me back.)

JUST HECKIN’ LOOK AT THAT BLUE, MAN. JUST LOOK AT IT. S’BEAUTIFUL.

And more stunning character acting from Evely. Like. Bottom middle panel. The expression, the tilt of her head and the shadows on her eyes...

*insert silent flailing here*

Oh, also, KRYPTO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVESSSS (for now).

I’m never right about these things, so I’m glad the one time I’ve correctly read a thing is when it involves Krypto not, ya know. Being dead. XD

Also absolutely love that Kara’s instinct is to send Ruthye home to protect her--once more leaning into that whole, ‘I’m going to protect you, even at great cost to myself’, though of course we know that she can’t send her home, not here, not now, just halfway through our journey.

ERRRRRRGH, so mad we’re not getting twelve issues of this! CURSE YOU, POOR SUPERGIRL TRADE SALES! CURSE YOOOOOOU!

That said, King’s pacing? Has been phenomenal. I feel like Strange Adventures and even Mr. Miracle kinda...I’m not gonna say dragged, that’s not quite right. But it is more build up, I guess. Takes a while to get to the payoff.

Here, I think King is pushing things steadily along as he doesn’t have the benefit of an additional four issues, so he has to get to the point, so to speak. Keeps everything moving.

SOME FINAL, MISC. STUFF:

I’ve sort of glossed over the darker stuff from this issue, and I just wanna note that like. This is a book that features a bad guy getting stoned (in the death sentence way, not the drug way) on panel. Like. I can’t recommend this to children.

I can’t even really recommend it to some other Supergirl fans, because I know that the King elements will be too off-putting.

It never feels like the book is going too far, though. At least in like an...exploitative way? If that makes sense?

The violence is handled with discretion, I guess is what I’m trying to convey. This could very easily tip over into like, gross shock factor territory, if not handled well, but I think the creative team pulls it off.

...Still wouldn’t hand this book to kids, though. XD

As mentioned, we’re halfway through this series! Can’t wait to see where it goes--every time I think I have this book figured out, it surprises me. So, like. Bring on the Dinosaur planet! With no sunlight! I wanna see how Lopes handles THAT. XD

(But Oh, OooooOOooh, we gotta wait until NOVEMBER.)

(Hhhnnnnng!)

(Then again, maybe that’s good; we’ve got the TV show in the meantime, and then once it ends we can pick right up with new Supergirl content just a few weeks later.)

(...Aw. Made myself a little sad, thinking about the TV show coming to an end.)

So as not to end on that sad note, here once again is tiny, smushed Kara:

Give ‘em the ol razzle dazzle.

#stranger speaks #supergirl: woman of tomorrow #supergirl: woman of tomorrow spoilers #dc comics #comics talk #comics opinions #comics thoughts #long post #are those the right tags? I can never remember #gif

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r6sblitz · 4 years

Text

Happy Valentines day! I don’t have an AO3 but I am debating on making one. Nevertheless, I haven’t written anything fictional since middle school so if it’s bad...at least I have an excuse.

It’s Valentines week, and Montagne needs a date to get entry to the fabled Valentines party. I wonder who it’ll be? (This fic is mild, just some kissing, a little less than 5k words, Montagne/Blitz)

Montagne turned the paper over, inspecting both sides. Valentines was coming up once again, and as per tradition Rainbow threw a huge Valentine's party at whatever hotel ballroom would let them. He's heard the stories of past years--like the one year someone made a "punch" that was nothing more than a concoction of pepto bismol and fruit punch. Or how every year would end in someone finding a couple making out in numerous secluded areas. The Frenchman himself had never been to any of the outings, as the big bold print at the end of the rose colored flier always barred his entrance.

‘Must have a date!’ it read in it's silky letters, mocking him.

It was no secret Gilles loved a good party, especially one where he could engage with his fellow peers. Sadly though, he's yet to find a date. He's thought about just taking a friend and lying, but his poor communication skills also factor into his inability to lie.

With a sigh, he places the flier next to his plate, eating his lunch in peace. That was, until two familiar faces joined him at the table.

"Hey Gilles!" Emmanuelle's warm voice brought a smile to his face as he watched her and Rook sit across from him.

The two very much reminded him of his siblings when they were younger--bright and protective, but they could be mischievous at times. Montagne hasn't even had a chance to greet her back before the flier is snatched from across the table by Julien.

"Planning on attending this year?" he asks with a smirk. Emmanuelle's smile brightens, "Oh it's so much fun Gilles! Please tell me your coming."

Gilles gives a waning smile, "I haven't got a date."

Julien let out an amused huff, "As if that's ever stopped Bandit from sneaking in and stealing the snacks."

Twitch gives him a fake slap to the shoulder, "Don't be mean!" she turns to Monty, "What he means to say is don't feel bad for not having a 'date'," she says with air quotes, "you could just bring a friend. I'm sure everyone would be happy to see you there."

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, "I'm not so sure. I feel it is...out of the spirit?" The two across the table share a confused look unbeknownst to Monty, Julien simply shrugging his shoulders in response. A few moments of silent eating pass before Julien speaks up.

"Well...is there anyone you're close to? Maybe you could use this chance to get to know them a little bit better?" he asks before sticking another forkful of food into his mouth and winking.

Montagne chews the inside of his cheek a moment, cogs in his head turning. He honestly hadn't had a romantic relationship in decades, deeming his job too important to have something take more of his focus away. But if it was a fellow operator...No. That was equally as bad. Job relationships were known to crash and burn when they went south, and with this job they needed exactly the opposite of that. However his mind wanders to the relationships of Rainbow--how despite so many disliking and downright hating each other, it hasn't caused catastrophic issues.

"I think you might have broken him." he faintly hears Emmanuelle giggle, causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

"Well, Valentine's isn't for another week, so there's plenty of time to think it over." Julien says, standing with his empty plate and bidding farewell.

Emmanuelle searches her empty plate a moment, trying to find the right words for the older man.

Eventually, she picks up her plate, "Try not to think too hard, I say just go with a friend. Who knows what might happen!" and with that he is left alone once again. He peers down at the pink flier and it's swirling text, pocketing it as he too exits from the cafeteria.

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

The note has burned a hole into both his pocket and his mind. Every time he casually puts his hands in his pockets, or reaches for his wallet or phone, he is reminded of it and it's connotations. The past few days he's been taking Julien's advice, thinking about who he would want to bring given the chance.

When he's practicing his shooting, he thinks of Thatcher, has to admit the elder man is rather handsome. Though he highly doubts he's gay or bi or whatever sort of things people call themselves these days.

A technology session with Dokkaebi has him wondering about her, but quickly stuffs the idea--she's much too young, he'd feel like a creep asking her.

After training, a few cuts bring him to Gustave. He too admires him, both for his looks and for his dedication. The two made small talk as Doc inspected the cuts, seeing if they needed stitches or if a heart covered bandaid would do. Montagne laughs at the bandages, oddly cute for a man like him to have, to which Doc sighs and explains someone must have replaced the regular ones with these--the name of the culprit not explicitly said but known anyways.

"Are you attending the Valentines party?" Montagne asks as he pulls the sleeves of his coat back over his now Valentine themed arms.

"I do actually," Doc replies offhandedly, busily putting away the peroxide and bandages, "do you?"

Montagne shakes his head, pushing himself off the gurney.

Doc hums in response, “Well if you can’t find one, don’t feel bad for bringing someone more platonic.”

“Emmanuelle told you didn’t she” Montagne sighs, rubbing his face. The younger GIGN members had good intentions but, sometimes they were a bit too much for the old man.

Doc chuckles, “My lips are sealed. Take it easy friend.”

Montagne leaves, spending the rest of his free time pondering a potential partner and wondering who the hell Doc is bringing as a date. His pacing has led him to the upper floor balconies of the base, one of the many enhancements from their old station at Hereford. He sits on a relatively new cushioned bench, watching wistfully as the setting sun stains the sky a deep orange and the clouds purple. It seems he is destined to not have any time to himself as the glass door facing out onto the balcony opens with a quiet squeak. A familiar figure in a puffy white jacket steps out.

Blitz.

The younger man strides toward him, "Hey, mind some company?" he asks.

Montagne shuffles a bit, making room for the german to sit down. He does, with a long winded sigh.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." he chuckles. Montagne smiles back at him and shakes his head. The two enjoy the sunset in peace, though Montagne's mind is elsewhere once again.

Why hadn't he thought of Elias earlier? The german was one of the first people he ever met when Rainbow was conceived. He remembered back to when he was first working with everyone, how he enjoyed Blitz but first thought him naive, or a thrill seeker like Smoke. However as time went on, he found it was the total opposite. Occasionally the german would regale an enthralled younger operator about his time in Kosovo, or in India, or wherever he was stationed in between. Oftentimes the story would horrify them, sometimes along with any older ops within earshot, but he'd lighten the mood by bringing in a happy ending, or following it up with a lighter story. The two also shared morals--the need to protect and make sure everyone was safe regardless of their own situation.

The more Gilles looked at Blitz, the more he began to see. He was kind and pleasant to be around, and had even been helping Montagne improve his english skills. And yet it seemed he was spending less and less time with the german, whether due to more responsibilities or more operators to deal with or a combination of the two. The fact really saddened him, just as they were becoming good friends, they were beginning to drift away.

With his mind lost, he failed to notice Blitz had turned and was now staring at him.

"Er...is there something on my face? Please don't tell me it's marker again, it took me weeks to get that doodle of my neck." he groans, beginning to pull out his phone to check. Montagne shakes himself of his thoughts.

"Ah no, I was just wondering-are you attending the party this weekend?" he asks, unusually nervous.

Blitz tilted his head, "No I'm not, though I have been curious as to how Dominic manages to sneak in every year." he says, putting his chin on his fist in thought.

Before Montagne could reply, the man interjects, "I have an idea, do you have a date?"

Montagne nods his head no.

"Great! We could go together!" he says as if it's just a casual everyday line. Montagne gawks at him, unable to process what's happening until Elias explains further.

"I've always wanted to know how Dom gets in, and I assume you want to go cause well," he vaguely gestures at the frenchman, "it's your type of thing. It's a win win! Unless, you didn't want to go?"

Montagne blinks, waving his hands in front of him, "Oh yes, yes I do." He says, and is surprised he sounds slightly disappointed.

Blitz hops up from his seat, "Great, this will work out perfectly. See you on Saturday?"

"8:30 sharp" Gilles hears himself mumble with a smile. With a lazy salute, the younger man leaves Montagne alone with the rising moon and an odd feeling in his stomach.

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

It had been a long time since Gilles had gone shopping for clothes. Typically he’d wear whatever was supplied, and rarely dress up in an old tuxedo that forever sat in his closet. But with a little egging from a certain two GIGN members, they convinced him to go out and buy some nice clothes for once. So now Gilles was inspecting a large map of the mall along with Julien and Oliver, the latter coming along in place of Twitch who claimed she wanted the three of them to have some “guy time”. After a few moments of inspection, Oliver points to the shop.

“Looks like it’s downstairs, toward the east entrance.”

Julien groans, “Should’ve parked at the other lot.”

The three set out, passing by various clothing boutiques, kiosks of toys and gadgets, and sickly sweet dessert stands. Their leisurely walk leads them to a large outlet at the other end of the mall. As soon as they enter, they’re immediately bombarded by the staff, who manage to wring out of them that Montagne was buying an outfit for his “date”. He’s corralled into a changing room and given several different dress shirts, jackets, and chinos before Julien and Olivier manage to drive them off.

He takes his time, putting on the matching sets before coming out and asking the two’s opinions. Gilles almost instantly regrets bringing the two along--both of them manage to find something or other to downvote an outfit. His latest attempt is simple, a peach colored dress shirt with tan brown dress pants. His hands are folded on his chest, exhaustedly listening to his two countrymen.

“Hmm I don’t know Gilles, I think the shirt is too close to your skin tone.” Julien tuts.

“Why did they think that was a good color to make pants out of, it looks like they're made of—” Gilles stomps back into the dressing room before he can hear the rest of Olivier’s sentence.

It wasn’t an easy feat to make Montagne frustrated, but after nearly an hour, he found himself at the end of his rope. The hangers clatter as he inspects what he’s worn and what’s been tossed to the wayside. A pair of black pants and black shirt are the last two items.

He disrobes before shouldering the shirt on, mumbling to himself that if they didn’t like this one, he was just going to wear his old tuxedo. After putting on the outfit, he takes a moment to inspect it in the thin mirror at the back of the changing room. At first he thought the shirt was just a plain black, however the sleeves bare an intricate lacework of swirling gold vines and roses. The pants have a similar, smaller pattern along the seams going down the outside of the legs.

It’s probably one of the more risque things he’s worn, though nothing will top his April fools butterfly armor, but he takes a deep breath and walks out. To his surprise, the two of them are stunned into silence.

“That looks...amazing!” Julien beams. Olivier nods his head in approval. A nearby store attendant comes by and gushes about the outfit, doing their best to flatter Gilles who takes the compliments with a fake smile.

Montagne lets out a relieved sigh, quickly zipping into the changing room and paying for the clothes before he’s hounded anymore. The three of them merrily made their way back to the other side of the mall, finally getting to the car and heading back to base.

—————————————————————————————

The day of Valentines was like any other day. Training, training, and more training. Though the regiments didn’t seem as intense, the day ending earlier than usual and Montagne found his muscles weren’t as sore as they normally would be. He showers at his dorm, taking his time. Personal bathrooms were among many of the luxuries afforded to them at his base, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate some privacy every once in a while. After he’s done, he dresses in his new attire, and stands in the mirror. He fiddles with his shirt collar, adjusting it this way and that. He’s oddly anxious, a feeling that’s rare for the older man. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, years of firefights and hostage situations and he’s scared over a date. Not even--it’s just a friendly outing to get in. Despite his initial excitement for the party, it’s turned into mild disappointment. With a deep sigh, he hopes to at least spend a little time with the german.

Gilles stuffs his wallet and phone into his pocket, and opens the door, and heads toward the parking lot.

Upon arrival at the hotel, he’s surprised to see just how many operators were milling outside the ballroom, waiting to get in. He’s toward the back of the line and is still nearly half an hour early, but he isn’t alone for long.

“You’re early! And it looks like everyone else is to.” Elias says as he makes his way next to him in line, “You look amazing by the way!” he beams. Despite the low light Gilles swears the younger man is blushing.

“Thank you. You look nice as well.” he says, scanning his partner’s outfit. He’s cleaned up nicely, though his hair is a bit tousled, likely the work of Lera. His skin tone contrasts perfectly with his wine red dress shirt and black pants. The two wait in line patiently, which can’t be said for some of the others. A tug at Montagne’s sleeve gets his attention. He looks down to see Blitz discreetly pointing at someone further up the line, follows his direction and spots the person in question.

“Dominic?” Montagne whispers.

“He’s alone, you think Ash is going to let him in?”

Montagne shrugs, “We’ll have to wait and see.”

The booming voice of Clash from the front silenced all the chatter. She announces the beginning of festivities and the door opens, allowing the guests to file in one couple at a time. Slowly but surely the two make their way to the front, watching in awe as Ash and Clash let Dominic go in sans date.

They were about to enter the crowded ballroom when Blitz stopped him.

“I have to ask,” he says, addressing Morowa, “why’d you let Dom in?”

Clash snorts, “About time someone asked me about that. I owed him a huge favor--he fixed my shield during a firefight and probably saved my life. When I asked him what I could do to return the favor, he said he just wanted to get in here every year.”

Elias quirks an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Seriously, now off you go, have some fun.” she ushers the two in, who slow down to take in the sights and sounds. Outside of rumors, Montagne didn’t actually know what the Valentine’s party actually looked like. The ballroom was extremely long, ending with an empty stage except for a small table and something under a cloth. Scattered around the room were large round tables fit with white lace table skirts. The dim lights, in addition with the added pink and red lights casting small bubbles of light, shower everything in a soft glow. To the left of the entrance, a row of long tables, nearly stretching to the end of the ballroom, house seemingly every dessert and cocktail in existence. Montagne is sure if he ate one of everything from there, he wouldn’t survive the night.

His hand is still in Elias’s as the younger man guides him away from the entrance toward the center of the room. Montagne takes a moment to appreciate just how warm he is, his hand heating Gilles’s forever cold ones. Through the sea of people he manages to spot Emmanuelle and Gustave. He must have slowed down a bit to see them clearly, as Elias turns around, before he too manages to spot the pair.

“Why don’t you go over and chat, want anything to drink?” he asks.

“Just a bit of champagne, thank you.”

“You got it.” Elias replies, and soon he is lost amidst the waves of couples. The mountain of a man manages to squeeze his way over to Emmanuelle, who’s arm in arm with Caveira, chatting with Gustave. The two women are in wildly different dresses--Emmanuelle in a short strapless navy blue dress that fringes as it goes down, while Taina confidently sports a bit longer obsidian color dress, the long sleeves and low cut accentuating her long jet black hair. Twitch perks up upon seeing Gilles, waving him over.

“You made it! I knew you’d find someone.” she says with a grin, which soon turns devious, “so, who’s your date?”

Montagne scans the room, pointing out Elias at the opposite end holding two drinks and engaging in small chatter with Dominic, the other german’s hands holding as many desserts as humanly possible. It takes a few attempts for Emma to see, until Taina helps guide her vision.

“Oh, Elias! Good choice.” she says playfully. Both her and Taina giggle, striding off to mingle elsewhere.

“I’m glad you could make it Gilles.” Doc says, looking comfortable in a barely blue dress shirt, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

“Glad to be here, though I do have to ask-”

Doc tilts his head.

“-who in the world did you bring as a date? I never found out.”

The medic barks with laughter, shaking his head, “You were really concerned about that? I brought Mister Baker,” he points to a gaggle of men nearby consisting of mostly SAS with the exception of Adriano and Aria. Lo and behold Thatcher was among them, waving his hand at a comment Seamus made.

“Ah. I didn’t realize you two were together.” he states bluntly.

“It’s only been a few months, we wanted to keep it relatively low.” he states, “So, how long have you been with Elias?”

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, “In all honesty, he just wanted to see how Dominic got in.”

Doc hums in acknowledgement, “I see. Well, you two enjoy the party, try not to drink too much.” he says, splitting off to join his partner. Thatcher takes to him casually, looping an arm around his back and resting his hand on the doctor’s hip. The little gaggle are surprised at first, that is until Smoke undoubtedly says something raunchy, which earns him the stink eye of both men. Montagne can’t help but chuckle at the site of it all.

“Gustave and Mike huh, can’t say I saw that one coming,” Elias says. Montagne turns to find he’s returned, drinks masterfully held in one arm while the other teeters two plates of dessert foods. Gilles quickly grabs his drink and food, relieving the other man of his juggling duties, which he thanks him for.

“You could have asked for help.” Montagne jokes, taking a sip of the sparkling champagne. It’s a lot sweeter than normal, but he has no doubt everything at that table is more sugary than it should be.

“It’s ok, didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” he replies softly. There’s an unplaceable look in his eyes as he stares at the liquid in his glass, before taking a chug. Montagne still swears there’s a blush to his cheeks, but the lighting still obscures the colors of his face.

The two chat, occasionally accompanied by another couple, but mostly they talk amongst themselves. Montagne learns a lot in their chatter--like how Elias is pretty good at a lot of sports, but can’t shoot a hoop to save his life. Or that he was in a choir when he was younger, but never pursued music because he’d choke up on stage, though he can’t help but sing while doing the dishes. In turn, Gilles tells him tidbits about himself. Tells him his love of old country guitars, tells him he hates the winter because he gets so cold, tells him he of the times he and his brothers would sneak into their sisters’ room and hide their dolls in odd places around the house. The last one getting a good laugh out of the younger man.

After what seemed like hours of talking, Ash walked up on stage and addressed them all.

“I hope everyone’s been having fun! Now it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for!” she announces, lifting the cloth off both the table and large obelisk on stage. They reveal a turntable and huge speaker accordingly. The lights somehow dim even further, leaving most of the ballroom in shadow. A large portion of the dance hall lights up under a disco ball, its tiny mirrors casting orbs of light that twirl on the floor. Anyone who was sitting down immediately jumps to their feet, grabbing their partners and guiding, or in some cases dragging, them to the dance floor.

Montagne watches wistfully as the operators sway slowly with the beat of the music. Castle picked a good song, an old one he recognizes from the many times it’s played while someone’s cooking or cleaning on base. There’s a pressure on his shoulder. When he looks it turns out to be Elias’s hand.

“Do you...want to dance?” he asks, and this time Montagne is certain the man’s face has gone red. He smiles, takes his hand and the two of them go to the outskirts of the dance area.

“Sorry if I step on your shoes, I have two left feet.” the german chuckles.

They waltz and step to the music, making small movements so as to not step on each other, but soon they get into a rhythm. Elias has rested his head on Gilles’s shoulder, while the older man feels like he’s having a revelation. Everything felt just so right. Like god has molded Elias to fit perfectly in his arms, and that Gilles was sculpted to perfectly hold Elias. It felt so good, Montagne never wanted to let go.

They danced. And danced and danced, until the music stopped. Gilles wasn’t even aware that most of the operators left, save for a few stragglers trying to get their drunk dates to a hotel room for some sleep and water. Elias still had his head buried in the space between Gilles’s neck and shoulder.

“What time is it?” he heard him mumble.

Montagne reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“It’s almost one in the morning.” he said as Elias pulled away. The older man felt himself missing the contact, the cool air of the ballroom almost immediately replacing the younger man’s warmth.

“Can’t believe you made me dance past midnight.” he joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a forefinger and thumb.

“Someone mentioned free hotel rooms…” Gilles murmured.

“At this point, I don’t mind paying. I don’t want to drive home.” Elias yawned.

——————————————————————-

Everyone he had talked to about the party seemingly forgot to leave out that the hotel booked one room per two guests. One room with one bed. How cliche. But at this point Montagne didn’t really care, snagging to key from the receptionist. He met up with Elias, who was sitting on a chair nearby, looking ready to pass out.

“We get a room?”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed.” Gilles replied.

Elias just shook his head, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The two made their way out of the brightly lit lobby to a nearby hallway. Thankfully they didn’t need to go far--their room was on the first floor.

“Oh hey,” Elias perked up, stopping Gilles, “do you mind if I get a water real fast?” the younger man pointed to a closed door, the sign tacked on it read ‘Ice and Vending Machines’. Gilles let him go, waiting only a few seconds before Elias popped back out, face a lot redder than before.

“Is everything...alright?” Gilles asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Elias cleared his throat, “Ah yep! Just uh, well. Now I know just how intimate Taina and Emma are.” he stuttered.

Montagne couldn’t help but chuckle.

The room appeared before them after a minute of walking. Gilles swiped the card, clicking open the door and flicking on the nearest light. The room itself was cozy, the walls a warm tan color against a navy blue carpet. Though small, it still had a countertop with a coffee machine and mini fridge stuffed underneath. Popping it open, Gilles took out two water bottles, handing one to Elias. With a small thanks the younger man chugged it down, sighing when finished.

The two stood in the room. The tension in the air was tangible, like a static buildup. But Montagne let the feeling pass over him, and didn't want to impose on the younger man. Elias took a step forward.

“I, uh, had a really fun time tonight.” finally meeting Gilles’s eyes.

“I’m glad.” he hummed back. Elias took another step forward.

“If you wanted to do this next year, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They were close now, barely inches away. Gilles leaned down a bit, taking in everything he could. From the wrinkles shirt, to his reddening ears and messy hair.

“And I…” he begins, but cuts himself off. Their faces are inches away, perfect for kissing.

And so they do.

It’s a step beyond incredible. Montagne hasn’t felt this elated in years. Elias’s lips are surprisingly soft and as warm as the rest of him. He tastes like champagne and chocolate, fitting for someone as sweet as him. They stay there a moment, simply enjoying the touch as they continue to kiss, Montagne winding his arms around him. After what seems like hours, they eventually part, breaths still close enough to intermingle.

Elias laughs, embracing Gilles back, “So now that we got that out of the way, can we sleep now?” he jokes tiredly.

Montagne pecks the top of his head, “Of course mon amour.”

It takes an enormous amount of effort to get to bed, neither of them wanting to move, to let go. Gilles makes the first move, taking a hand and guiding Blitz to the bed. They kick off their shoes and climb into the bed, which was thankfully big enough for the two of them. Not like it mattered--as soon as both were in bed they huddled close, Montagne wrapping an arm around Blitz’s waist, and Blitz slipping his feet between Montagne calves. They sit in silence for a moment. Gilles can feel the younger man sigh against his neck as he rubs circles in his shoulders.

“Goodnight Elias, I love you.” Montagne hums. He’s not sure if Elias hears him at first, the shorter man’s head is stuffed under his chin, until he hears him squeak a reply.

“I love you too.”

Montagne grins, letting the warmth of the other man overtake him, helping him drift to sleep.

#r6s blitz #r6s montagne #montagne/blitz #monblitz #proofread once by me and never again lol

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pikemoreno · 4 years

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if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter II: Coincidences

a/n: the response to what i believe will be the slowest chapter in the whole series was honestly kind of overwhelming? like you guys were into it and it’s only going up from here folks!!

taglist is open if you’d like to be added. sorry if you asked and i missed it or forgot. please just ask again if you aren’t on there and would like to be. :’)

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.

You were really starting to regret your life choices.

Even the beginnings of autumn in Austin were hot as hell. It was only maybe 90 degrees but there was no breeze and the sun was shining ruthlessly on the asphalt, making it feel about 10 degrees hotter. And all of that was then made complete with just a dash of humidity. Basically: you were dying. You probably should’ve considered that before deciding to walk to Rick’s Diner from Wendy’s apartment, but when the pancakes call, you two must answer. And why risk losing your parking spot in the meager guest parking area when you could just walk? It’s only a couple of streets away.

Famous last words. The Austin sun, though setting, still felt like it was frying you to your bones and the air conditioning of the little diner only brought minor relief as you finally reached the stool-lined counter to ask for your to-go order. They didn’t have it quite ready yet due to the dinner rush, but it was unadulterated bliss to hear that you didn’t have to brave the heat again quite yet. A vaguely familiar voice reached your ears as you moved away from the counter.

“Fancy meeting you here, Jewels.”

Pike? From the break room yesterday? You spun around to find none other than the very same. Though his work suit was replaced with a more casual look of a casual well-fit grey shirt and jeans, he was still managing to look more put together than you felt in athletic shirts and a t-shirt. Girls night and the weather called for it, but if you knew you were going to be seeing a coworker...

“Art Squad,” you laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “What brings you here?”

“Best pancakes in the city. What about you? Coffee?”

“Ha-ha. No, girl’s night with Wendy. Gonna get her mind off of everything with what are absolutely the best pancakes in the city,” you agreed.

“A woman of taste.” His order came up and he took it, taking a moment to talk with the server across the counter. You heard him address him by name.

He must come here a lot.

You couldn’t blame him. It was clean, the service was amazing, the food was great, and it was fun-- with nostalgic decor that didn’t sway towards cheesiness.

Marcus left the counter with his takeout bag, but he didn’t leave with it, as expected. Instead he came back to stand beside you.

“Maybe I should get some for Adrian too. These pancakes are magical,” he commented, continuing your previous conversation.

“Exactly.”

“I just wish I could do more for him. Coffee and pancakes aren’t exactly a permanent fix.”

“Agreed. I’m on the lookout for a rebound for Wendy. Maybe you should consider it too. Not a permanent fix but-- better.”

It hit you all at once.

Two single people recently in need of a rebound that work in the same building?

That couldn’t be coincidence.

But, no, that was a crazy idea. There was nothing that actually connected them. Did they have anything in common other than getting their hearts ripped out and working for the FBI? Doubtful. Was that enough for a stable relationship? God, no. Was that enough to bring them together long enough for a hook-up and getting them over their exes?

Maybe.

Your name being called interrupted your thoughts and, pancakes in hand, you and Marcus walked back out into the Austin heat. You had no idea how he was managing in jeans, though you guessed it helped that he was probably smart enough to drive with the protection of A/C.

“Well, see you around,” you nodded to him, ignoring the nagging in the back of your head to tell him about your scheme. It was silly. You turned left to walk towards Wendy’s place.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you; you turn. “Did you not--?” he gestures to the parking lot on his right.

“Walked here.”

“Do you like causing yourself pain?”

“Sometimes.” He gave you a look. “I’m kidding. It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, right. Let me drive you.” You considered a moment. There wasn’t any harm in accepting the ride, you guessed, though you didn’t actually know him. He could actually be a murderer who’s just trying to get you to a secondary location. You’d seen John Mulaney. You knew what that meant.

But maybe it was worth a try for the pancakes.

Just for the pancakes-- for their safety.

“Sure, why not.”

This couldn’t be coincidence either. Time to scheme.

“So, about Adrian,” you began. The look he gave you was quizzical. “How old is he?”

“33?”

“Would he be interested in a 32 year old beautiful, badass goddess of an FBI Supervisory Special Agent?” He raises an eyebrow as you get in his car.

“Is that Wendy?”

“Yes. Turn left up here.” He did.

“I know what you’re thinking. No, we’re not going to--”

“But think about it!”

“I am. Meddling? That always works.” His tone was drowning in sarcasm.

“Sure it does. Adrian’s work is suffering, right? Driving you crazy? Wendy’s driving me crazy. They belong together.”

“I don’t think that’s a great quality to base a relationship off of.”

“Oh, this is her building here.” He pulled over and you continued, unbuckling your seatbelt “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Surely we can get them together long enough to at least get them off our backs.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not getting involved in Adrian’s love life.”

“Alright, fine. If you never see me again. Wendy finally killed me.” He rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the ride, Art Squad.”

“See you around, Jewels.”

“Don’t be so sure!” you called back as you walked up to the front of Wendy’s apartment.

Arriving back to Wendy’s living room had her asking you how you got back so soon as she gratefully took out her takeout container of pancakes.

“Hitched a ride,” you shrugged in reply, sitting cross-legged on the other end of her couch.

“Oh? With who?” There were approximately eight extra “O’s” attached at the end of the question.

“A guy from work.”

“From work, hmm?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Not like that.”

“Humor me. Someone from our team?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. Art Squad.” Wendy widened her eyes, tilting her head at you. “It’s nothing Wendy, honestly.”

“How do you know him?” But the question didn’t come out casually. This was an interrogation. You sighed.

“I don’t, really,” you diverted the conversation digging into your take-out container. “And why are you interrogating me, hmm? I thought we were supposed to be laughing at reality shows and stuffing our faces in pancakes here and forgetting all about this kind of shit.”

“No no no. When my long-time single work friend mentions a secret guy, I ask questions.”

“Hey, I just went on a date two weeks ago! Don’t give me any of that always single crap. I get around.”

“Yeah, you went on one date. And then you came back an hour later saying he was boring and you never contacted him again. And when was the last time before that?”

“Fine, fine. I get it. But this isn’t some ‘secret guy,’” you put down your fork just to give the phrase some emphatic air quotes. “I just ran into him yesterday at the office and then today at Rick’s. That’s it.”

“For now,” she whispered devilishly. You pointed your fork at her, feigning a threat.

“I do not need a man, Wendy Harrod. I have work and I have you.”

“I know you don’t. I just wanna see you happy.” You crossed your arms.

“I am happy. Hey, this night is supposed to be about you and your man troubles. Turn on 90 Day Fiance. Stop talking about me.”

You were telling the truth. Most of it. You felt alright by yourself. You did have work, though it was a dead-end until you managed to move out of the Austin field office. It had been you and Wendy up for a promotion a couple years ago and she received it. You knew the likelihood of her leaving before retirement was minuscule, which left you stuck in your current position until your own retirement. Unless you left. Not an option. You couldn’t leave Wendy scrambling for someone to replace you. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you had it. It was yours. And you… Liked it well enough.

It was fine. What more could you want?

***

Monday mornings were hard on anyone: the start of another week, the stack of work that Friday-you left for Monday-you staring you in the face. For Marcus it brought the wondering if this could be the week that Adrian was back to himself.

It took all of ten minutes in the office to see that wouldn’t be the case.

Adrian’s pile of work had hardly decreased in height from the last time Marcus saw it on Friday morning. He watched for a moment to see how it was going. Adrian’s pen moved slowly across the page as he followed the words printed on it, occasionally making a mark or circling a section. He was working, but not to his best. It was written on his face and in his body language: hunched over at his desk, his chin resting resting heavily in the hand that wasn’t making lethargic movements over the paper. It just wasn’t the spunky Adrian that loved his job and his co-workers. He was always the hardest worker, and on the rare occasions that Adrian wasn’t working it was because he was too caught up in being a social butterfly. This side of him was frighteningly unprecedented.

“How’re you doing Adrian?” Marcus finally spoke.

Adrian made a noncommittal noise in response, his gaze fixated entirely somewhere above the page, but not quite on him.

“That good, huh?”

Another grunt.

Marcus pulled a rolling chair up to the other side of Adrian’s desk, facing him, studying him. He thought of your proposition from days before. It was kind of a crazy idea. But it might just be crazy enough to work. It wouldn’t be a permanent fix but... Better. Just as you’d said. He was getting about that desperate. Three weeks without Adrian was bad enough for team morale. Another week of this? Maybe more? The very walls of the sixth floor would be turning dull and grey. He still didn’t love the idea, but he hadn’t exactly come up with anything better. Could he bring it up to Adrian? Was it better if they didn’t know they were being set up? He started small.

“Adrian, have you considered maybe, I don’t know, trying to date again soon? Just to get your mind off of… That.”

Adrian shrugged, “Maybe. I’d have to find someone I was interested in. But I just don't think I'll find that anytime soon. I’ll just keep comparing them to Sam.”

Marcus hummed in thought, watching the defeat on Adrian’s face. “Well, I’ll keep my eye out,” he promised loosely as he rolled the rolling chair back away from the desk.

He had to find you.

He quickly announced he was taking a long lunch and headed straight to the elevator, thankful no one followed him to see him go up to the seventh floor instead of down to the first. He poked around offices and desks, ignoring the questioning glances, looking for you or any sign of where your workspace might be. He found you in the seventh floor breakroom, starting into what looked like an extremely mediocre lunch.

He sat directly across from you and watched as you slowly looked up to find the source of the noise, suddenly feeling that he might’ve overstepped and you might not want to disturbed. That was quickly replaced by the odd surge of pride when you looked relieved to see him. You smiled at him and called him Art Squad.

“What brings you to the seventh floor? We still don’t have any coffee,” you huffed.

“I’m in.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m in. Let’s set them up.” Your expression was nothing short of cocky as you leaned back in your chair.

“Oh? Coming crawling back so soon? Adrian getting the best of you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in. So what do we do?”

“Well,” you laid down your fork, “The way I see it. We shouldn’t tell them. They’re having a tough time and feeling like they’re only getting a date from their friends’ pity party would make it worse. They need this to feel natural, like it was their idea and they’re recovering. It’ll give them confidence.”

“So we... What?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t even have a plan and you were trying to convince me to help you?”

“Just let me think about it, alright?”

“Alright. Let’s drive and think. Up for a long lunch break?”

“I guess? But I have,” you looked to your sad little lunch in front of you. When you met his eyes again, he simply raised an eyebrow.

You’re really gonna eat that?

“Rick’s?”

“Rick’s.”

forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives

series taglist: @whiskeyslasso @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @dindjarindiaries @absurdthirst @roxypeanut @fioccodineveautunnale

#bri writes #iyewbil #marcus pike x reader

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therachelperspective · 3 years

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BOOK | Scrappy Little Nobody by Anna Kendrick About the author: Anna Kendrick is shorter in person.

No really! That is the last printed page of this book; she wrote it herself! The shortest (haha pun intended!) author bio I think I’ve ever seen... but honestly, such a true testament to she who is Anna Kendrick. She may no longer be a “little nobody” in the world, but the scrappy part is still vehemently true, as proved through the plethora of personal stories shared in this, her debut novel. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

I’ll admit, I used this book the same way I’ve used many books I’ve read lately – as a way to decide if I like a celebrity or not. Like, for some reason, I seem to think I need proof that celebrities are likeable and human just like me, and then proceed to put a lot of pressure on their ability to write a book about themselves. HEAVEN FORBID they say something I don’t like.

*throws book down and walks away*

. . . *sighs*

*trudges back, picks it up and continues reading*

As a Twi-hard in my younger days, I knew of Anna Kendrick from the Twilight film adaptations (ok shush, it’s still a guilty pleasure despite all its numerous faults). Then, she was the cool rebellious-ish girl I always wanted to be as Beca in Pitch Perfect; she was actually great as Scott’s sister Stacey in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World; and it became fact that she reaalllly had pipes when she starred as Cinderella in the musical film adaptation of Into the Woods. And if that weren’t enough, on occasion we could all be reminded how entertaining she was/is/could be when she takes to the Twittersphere. She even wanted to call this book “A Tweet but Longer”. But, like many who came before her, I didn’t have any solidified opinions of her or her work; she was just another celebrity, and a seemingly quirky one at that. Yet I remained indifferent as always (I’m so annoyingly forlorn that way). Well, consider me swayed, y’all – I fricken love her. Let me say it a little louder for the people in the back just in case you missed it. I LOVE ANNA KENDRICK.

Sorry - sorry, I'll calm down.

Initially, what I thought were atypical jests from Anna that she would just post on social media, turned out to be the way her mind actually thinks and works on the regular. Or, ya know, she’s really good at faking it for roughly 270 pages and countless tweets. The entirety of Scrappy Little Nobody was full of amazingly witty quips that I absolutely relished in. Especially the wisecracks in which she was able to incorporate pop culture (I really do love when other people utilize pop culture references into every day banter; it brings me joy). Even better, I was actually able to learn more about her PERIOD, from the woman herself! Which is absolutely my preferred method of enlightenment. Because it turns out, I really didn’t know anything about her. Long story short, reading Scrappy Little Nobody was a revelation in more ways than one, and now I legitimately just want to binge all the work she’s ever done in film (and I suppose in series as well, as she recently starred in a HBO Max original show too).

I’m slightly fan-girling here, and it reminds me of the time I was blind to how great Amy Poehler was before reading her book. Oh, the rocks I’ve been living under. I’m slightly embarrassed.

There’s something to be said about actors that begin their careers in theater. Like, they give off a different sort of vibe that I’m not sure how to properly articulate. Anna is one of those actors, having gotten her start in le theatre when her age was still in the single digits. Commuting from Portland, Maine, to New York City for auditions may sound absolutely horrible – that’s a five-plus hours commute she would often make alone with her 14-year-old older brother – and then living away from home for months at a time during the run of said shows, SUCH KUDOS for that dedication. To add to the wonder of Anna’s diligence to her craft, this did gain her the “second youngest person” Tony Award nomination for her role in High Society. She was outdoing us long before any of us knew who she was.

Through tales of her childhood, young and not-so-young love, and what it’s like to be a part of films and the Hollywood scene at various ages, we learn that in a more realistic sense, Anna is actually more stocked with us commoners than her celebrity counterparts. During some of her retellings of award shows, events, and similar ventures that comes with her cinematic stardom, I felt as though she was just “one of us” that was allowed to take part in these things, so she could then regale to us an inside scoop of the realities of Hollywood. She is there because of her talent, of course, we all know; but she’s just as nervous around other celebrities as we middle-class fanatics would be. I know that even the most well-known, highest salaried celebrities are still just as human as I am, but sometimes it’s people who really show their vulnerability like Anna Kendrick that are naturally more easy to relate to. Like she tries her hardest to illustrate the warmth and tenderness shared during her time working with George Clooney, but you can’t help but still feel that that man is some form of superhuman regardless, even to her. The “OH MY GOD IT’S GEORGE CLOONEY” is still there. To quote the woman herself, “I am - at best - a normal human being, and this [her fame] has all been a big misunderstanding.”

However, amidst all the feelings of incompetency she constantly repeats throughout Scrappy Little Nobody (similar in the way that Amy Schumer constantly demeaned her own looks in Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo), I still enjoyed Anna’s book. I adored her style of humor, as it really does align with my own. And while her personality is inherently quippy, she shows a deeper, more poignant side of herself through some crucial topics she chooses to discuss within these pages. She may crack jokes, as we all might, to help lighten the tough stuff, but she still provides strong opinions – even if it’s just a sentence – about things that are important to her, sprinkled throughout pages about life in Maine, the theater, and Hollywood.

How do I most like Anna Kendrick though? She too is a 10-hour sleeper. I have finally found my people!

#book #books #read #reading #literature #scrappy little nobody #anna kendrick #pitch perfect #into the woods #twilight #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs. the world

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lesbeet · 4 years

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not to be a nerd but i accidentally just wrote a whole impromptu essay about editing ndjsdksksk im throwing it under a cut bc it's fucking inane and really long but honestly... i just want other people to become as passionate about editing as i am lmaooooo

i also recommend 2 books in the post so if anything at least check those out!

quality books about editing... *chef's kiss* a lot of the basic ones (including blog posts online n such) are geared towards beginners and end up repeating the same info/advice, much of it either oversimplified or misrepresented tbh. but i read one yesterday and i'm reading another one right now that really convey this passion for editing + consideration for it as its own sort of art and i just!!

it's such a weird thing to be passionate about lmao but i AM and i've spent a lot of time the past year or so consciously honing my craft (ik i mention this like 4 times a week i'm just really proud of how much i've learned and improved) and kind of like. solidifying my instincts into conscious choices i guess?

and these GOOD editing books have both a) taught me new information and/or presented familiar information through a new perspective that helped me understand something differently or in more depth, and b) validated or even just put into words certain preferences or techniques that i've developed on my own, that i don't normally see on those more basic lists i mentioned

btw the book i finished yesterday is self-editing for fiction writers: how to edit yourself into print by renni brown and dave king, and the one i'm reading currently is the artful edit: on the practice of editing yourself by susan bell.

the former was pretty sharp and straightforward. the authors demonstrated some of their points directly in the text, which was usually funny enough that i would show certain quotes to my sister without context

("Just think about how much power a single obscenity can have if it’s the only one in the whole fucking book." <- (it was)

"Frequent italics have come to signal weak writing. So you should never resort to them unless they are the only practical choice, as with the kind of self-conscious internal dialogue shown above or an occasional emphasis."

or, my favorite: "There are a few stylistic devices that are so “tacky” they should be used very sparingly, if at all. First on the list is emphasis quotes, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. The only time you need to use them is to show you are referring to the word itself, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. Read it again; it all makes sense.")

and like i said, i also learned some new ideas or techniques (or they articulated vague ideas i already had but struggled to put into practice), AND they mentioned some suggestions that ive literally never seen anyone else bring up (not to say no one has! just that ive never seen it, and ive seen a lot in terms of writing tips, advice, best practices, etc) that ive already sort of established in my own writing

for example they went into pretty fine detail about dialogue mechanics, more than i usually see, and in talking about the pacing and proportion of "beats" and dialogue in a given scene, they explicitly suggested that, if a character speaks more than a sentence or two and you plan on giving them some sort of dialogue tag or an action to perform as a beat, the tag or action should be placed at one of the earliest (if not the first) natural pauses in the dialogue, so as not to distance the character too far from the dialogue -- bc otherwise the reader ends up getting all of the dialogue information first, and then has to go back and retroactively insert the character, or what they're doing, or the way they look/sound while they're giving their little speech

and like this was something ive figured out on my own, mostly bc it jarred me out of something i was reading enough times (probably in fic tbh) that i started noticing it, and realized that it's something i do naturally, kind of to anchor the character to the dialogue mechanic to make sure it makes sense with the actual dialogue

so like. ok here's an example i just randomly pulled from the song of achilles (it was available on scribd so i just looked for a spot that worked to illustrate my point djsmsks)

the actual quote is written effectively, but here's a less effective version first:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him. He’s done nothing to me," Achilles answered coolly.

see and even with such a short snippet it's so much smoother and more vivid just by moving the dialogue tag, not adding or cutting a word:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him.” Achilles answered coolly. “He’s done nothing to me.”

the rhythm of it is better, and the beat that the dialogue tag creates functions as a natural dramatic pause before achilles delivers an incredibly poignant line, both within the immediate context of the scene and because we as the readers can recognize it as foreshadowing. plus, it flows smoothly because that beat was inserted where the dialogue already contained a natural pause, just bc that's how people speak. if you read both versions aloud, they both make sense, but the second version (the original used in the novel) accounts for the rhythm of dialogue, the way people tend to process information as they read, AND the greater context of the story, and as a result packs significantly more purpose, information, and effect into the same exact set of words

and THAT, folks, is the kind of editing minutia i can literally sit and hyperfocus on for hours without noticing. anyway it's a good book lmao

the one i'm reading now is a lot more about the cognitive process/es of editing, so there's less concrete and specific advice (so far, anyway) and more discussion about different mental approaches to editing, as well as tips and tools for making a firm distinction between your writer brain and your editor brain, which is something i struggle with

but there have been so many good quotes that ive highlighted! a lot of just like. reminders and things to think about, and also just lovely articulations of things id thought of or come to understand in much more vague ways.

scribd won't let me copy/paste this one bc it's a document copy and not an actual ebook, but this passage is talking about how the simple act of showing a piece of writing to someone else for the very first time can spark a sudden shift in perspective on the work, bc you'll (or at least i) frantically try to re-read it through their eyes and end up noticing a bunch of new errors -

or she talked about the perils of constant re-reading in the middle of writing a draft, which is something i struggle with a LOT, both bc i'm a perfectionist and bc i prefer editing to writing so i sit and edit when i'm procrastinating doing the actual hard work of writing lmao

it's just this side of fake deep tbh but i so rarely see editing discussed like this--as a mixture of art and science, a collaboration between instinct and technique, that really requires "both sides of the brain" to be done well.

and because of the way my own brain works, activities that require such a balanced concentration of creativity and logic really appeal to me. even though ive seen a lot of people (even professional writers) who frame it as the creative art of writing vs the logical discipline of editing. but i think that's such a misleading way of thinking about it, because writing and editing both require creativity and logic -- just different kinds! (not to mention that the line between writing and editing, while mostly clear, can get a little blurry from up close)

but like...all stories have an inner logic to them, even if the writer hasn't explicitly or consciously planned it, and even if the logic is faulty in places in the first couple of drafts. when you're sitting and daydreaming about your story, especially if you're trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between two points or scenes (or, how to write a sequence of events that presents as a logical, inevitable progression of cause and effect), the voice in your head that evaluates an idea and decides to 1) go with it, 2) scrap it, 3) tweak it until it works, or 4) hold onto it in case you want it later? that's your logic! if an idea feels wrong, or like it just doesn't work, it's probably because some part of you is detecting a conflict between some part of the idea and the overall logic of your story. every decision you make as you write is formed by and checked against your own experiential logic, and also by the internal logic of your story, which is far less developed (or at least, one would hope), and therefore more prone to the occasional laspe

but while ive seen a number of articles that discuss the logic of writing, i don't see people gushing as much about the art of editing and it's such a shame

the inner editor is so often characterized as the responsible parent to the writer's carefree child, or a relentless critic of the writer's unselfconscious, unpolished drivel

and it's like... maybe you just hate thinking critically about your work! maybe you view it that way because you're imposing external standards too fiercely onto your writing, and it's sucked the joy out of shaping and sculpting your words until they sing. maybe you prefer to conceive of your writing as divine communication, the process of which must remain unencumbered by lessons learned through experience or the vulnerability of self-reflection, until the buzzkill inner editor shows up with all those "rules" and "conventions" that only matter if you're trying to get published

and like obviously the market doesn't dictate which conventions are worth following, but the majority of widely-agreed-upon writing standards, especially those aimed at beginners, (and most especially those regarding style, as opposed to story structure) have to do with the effectiveness and efficiency of prose, and, in addition to often serving as a shorthand for distinguishing an amateur from a pro, overall help to increase poignancy and clarity, which is crucial no matter the genre or type of writing. and even if you personally believe otherwise, it's better to understand the conventions so you can break them with real purpose.

so editing shouldn't be about trying to shove your pristine artistic masterpiece into a conventional mold, it should be about using the creative instincts of your ear and your logic and experience-based understanding of writing as a craft to hone your words until you've told your story as effectively as possible

thank u for coming to my ted talk ✌️

#long post //#editing #wref #sefa rambles

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thebeautyoftorah · 4 years

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ZOT HABERACHA/SIMCHAT TORAH

bs'd Shalom. Exiting news: My second book "Conquering Anger", just went out. It's a very practical guide on developing a deeper understanding of anger and how to eradicate it. A thought from it: "Parents must realize the importance of disciplining their children. Proper discipline is not cruelty, it is education (chinuch). Discipline is necessary for a child’s emotional development, because it teaches him about the fundamental concept of authority." Buy my book at http://www.feldheim.com/healing-anger.html If you want to buy it from me in Israel let me know. To join the over 5,000 recipients in English and Spanish and receive these insights free on a weekly email, feedback, comments, which has been all around the world, or if you know any other Jew who is interested in receiving these insights weekly, contact me. You have the opportunity to share in the mitzvah to honor a loved one by sponsoring my weekly review, or refua shelema (healing), shiduch, Hatzlacha. Feel free to print copies of this essay and distribute for the public in your local shul. Have a healthy Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach. ZOT HABERACHA/SIMCHAT TORAH-The Final Lesson The last pasuk of the Torah is a praise for Moshe Rabenu[1], “the strong hand and awesome power that Moshe performed before the eyes of all Israel”. Rashi explains citing the Midrash that, “before the eyes of all Israel” refers to Moshe’s decision to break the luchot in front of all the Jewish people. Why of all Moshe’s great deeds, does the Torah single this one out at its end as perhaps the greatest of them all? Chazal offer a profound insight to answer this question [2]. Moshe invested great effort for many years in bringing the Jewish people from slavery in Mitzrayim to Matan Torah, and he spent forty days without food or drink fending off the angels and securing the luchot for Am Israel. When he returned from Har Sinai and saw the people worshiping the Golden Calf he realized that they were not on the level to receive the luchot and he destroyed them. However, what a great test must have been to forsake all that effort and energy that he had invested to get to this moment. Moshe could have rationalized that although they did not deserve the luchot now, perhaps things would change soon and it wasn’t necessary to destroy them right away. He showed total integrity and intellectual honesty to break the luchot because that was the correct course of action. Sometimes, we are placed in similar situations to that of Moshe Rabenu; we invest time, money or energy into something and then we are faced with the possibility that we have made a mistake and need to start again or that there is a new turn of events that makes our original stand obsolete. We are greatly tempted in such instances to dig our heels in and stand by our initial plan against our better judgment. It is very hard to admit that we are wrong or need to start again after putting in so much effort into something. Maybe the most difficult aspect of knocking down what we have already built is that we are showing that we have made a mistake. It is extremely difficult for most people to admit that their opinions, lifestyle or attitude is wrong. Maybe this is the main factor that prevents non-religious people from changing their lifestyle is that to do so would mean admitting that all of their life up till this point was based on a mistake. Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz zt”l brings an example of how a person can become so obtuse that he cannot change even when placed under extreme pressure[3]. After the destruction of Yericho, Yehoshua placed a curse on anyone who would rebuild it. In the time of king Achav, a man named Chiel decided to defy the curse and rebuild Yericho[4]. When he laid the foundations, his first-born died, and as he continued building his sons continued dying one by one until when he completed the city his youngest son also passed away. How can a person be so foolish to continue in a path that causes his misery and destruction?! Shlomo haMelech says [5], “A person’s every way is upright in his eyes”… He was so convinced in the rightness of his actions that he preferred to bury all his sons over admitting that he was wrong! In contrast the Gemara [6] shows an example of the greatness involved in admitting one’s mistakes. The Tanna Shimon HaAmsoni used to explain every word ‘et’[את] in the Torah provides a secondary meaning to the subject mentioned. For example, in the mitzva of honoring parents, there is an ‘et’ from which he derived the inclusion of older siblings. Consequently a person must honor his parents and also his elder siblings. However, with the pasuk, “Et Hashem Elokecha tira” he was unable to find a secondary recipient of the fear that we must feel for Hashem. His talmidim asked him, “what about all the instances where you have explained the word ��et’”? He replied, “Just as I have been rewarded for expounding them, so shall I rewarded now for abandoning them.” Rabbi Akiva came and taught that the ’et’ in the pasuk teaches us that a person must fear G-d and also talmide chachamim. The greatness [7] of Shimon HaAmsoni, was that he did not hesitate to abandon the teaching that he had held and developed throughout his life when he felt that he could no longer justify it. Moreover, he taught his talmidim a priceless lesson that abandoning his teaching which was done in a moment, was as great as all the investigating and explaining he had done all his life! This lesson is connected to Simchat Torah with which Vezot Habracha always coincides. We end the Torah and then immediately restart it again, reading the opening pasukim of Bereshit. This alludes to us that even though we have completed the whole Torah, we should not feel that we do not need to repeat it again. We can relearn it and develop new insights, sometimes even contradicting our present understanding and we should not feel embarrassed to acknowledge that we were wrong. [Remarkably, in Lashon HaKodesh the words “review” and “different” are represented by the same word — “shoneh.” This teaches us that the purpose of reviewing is not merely to repeat the old; it is to reach new levels of understanding]. This does not only apply to pshatim on the Gemara but also to our outlook on life; if we see that a part of our hashkafa seems to not fully fit with Torah hashkafa, then we must be willing to honestly assess how we can change it. This idea is also alluded to in the marriage ceremony[8]. When the chatan breaks a glass, most commentators explain that this is a remembrance of the destruction of the Bet HaMikdash. However, one commentator connects this custom to the breaking of the luchot. Why do we need to be reminded of that event during a wedding? To teach the new couple that in order for their marriage to work, they must strive to emulate Moshe Rabenu’s actions in breaking the luchot. In order for a marriage to work, husband and wife must be willing to act with great honesty and admit their mistakes rather than stand on their pride. Both need to be prepared to let go of their preconceived notions and prejudices and strive for truth. These are not easy demands, but if we see that Moshe was ready to break the most valuable thing in the world because it was the right thing to do, then we too can surely be prepared to make changes when it is clearly the Ratson Hashem, as it is written[9], “Do what is right and good in G-d's eyes” . ______________________________________________ [1] Vezot HaBeracha 34:12. [2] See Ateret Mordechai quoted by ‘Rabbi Frand on the Parsha, p.297. [3] Sichot Mussar, Maamar 47, p.200. [4] Melachim 1, 17:34. [5] Mishle 21:2 [6] Kiddushin, 57a. [7] Alter of Kelm, Zaitchik, Sparks of Mussar, p.68. [8] Ibid, p.299. [9] Devarim 6:18 Le Iluy nishmat Eliahu ben Simcha, Yaakov ben Yosef, Mordechai ben Shlomo, Perla bat Simcha, Abraham Meir ben Leah, Moshe ben Gila,Yaakov ben Gila, Sara bat Gila, Yitzchak ben Perla, Leah bat Chavah, Abraham Meir ben Leah,Itamar Ben Reb Yehuda, Yehuda Ben Shmuel Tzvi, Tova Chaya bat Dovid. Refua Shelema to all the people sick with the Corona virus, Akiva Shushan Ben Natalie Penina, Mazal Tov bat Freja, Hadassa bat Sara, Elisheva bat Miriam, Chana bat Ester Beyla, Mattitiahu Yered ben Miriam, Yaacov ben Miriam, Yehuda ben Simcha, Matitiahu ben Rachel Leah, Naftali Dovid ben Naomi Tzipora, Nechemia Efraim ben Beyla Mina, Dvir ben Leah, Sender ben Sara, Eliezer Chaim ben Chaya Batya, David ben Rifka, Mazal Tov bat Frecha, Shlomo Yoel ben Chaya Leah, Dovid Yehoshua ben Leba, Shmuel ben Mazal Tov, Yosef Yitzchak ben Bracha, Yosef Matitiahu ben Yitzchak, Chaya Sara bat Yitzchak, Shmuel ben Mazal Tov, Rachel Simcha bat Yitzchak, Mazal Tov Rivka bat Yitzchak.

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