#or that I have already told the same story 45 times so why tell it again

[imwritesometimes]

ngl getting comments on fic is like hmmm maybe I should give this whole writing thing a try again....

[mv1simp]

Just Hold On, We’re Going Home ♥️

Max Verstappen x Fiancé! Reader

I got my eye on you, you’re everything that I see (I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly)

After a particularly bad argument with his father, Max is mentally checked out and needs to be pulled out of the dark place his mind has gone too. As his fiancé, you know just what to say to make him feel your love and bring him safely home.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, orgasm denial, I know I said I would never write subby max and that was apparently a LIE, but he’s more of a soft pure loverboy who needs you ok, you both have daddy issues, mild angst and childhood trauma, 3.1k WC

You can tell your fiancé’s mind is somewhere else right now, instead of at the intimate dinner you’re sharing at a cosy restaurant. You know this because you know Max well, having been friends before you two started dating, meeting as mutuals within the same extended group, and then online where you would both take a break from your demanding careers to enjoy a friendly grand theft auto competition.

Your friendship had gotten closer when you’d proved to be someone he could trust and always rely on. Especially when it came to talking about his father - a very multi layered relationship given that Max owed a large part of his F1 success to Jos’s discipline and the fact that, well, said discipline had involved emotional abuse on a good day and physical abuse on a bad one. It was a complex dynamic to unpack, and one that he didn’t really do with anyone - because he couldn’t trust anyone outside his family to not leak it to the media somehow. And within his family, the only one who came close to understanding was his little sister Victoria - who wanted to talk about it just as little as Max did.

However, you knew a thing or two about complex relationships with parents, growing up in a household with a luxury property developer tyrant of a father, and a homemaker mother who would never dare come between her husband and his demands for absolute perfection from his children, especially from you - the eldest. Similarly to Max, you owed a large part of your highly successful investment company and Oxford financial degree to your father’s attitude, which had been so sweet on days you performed, and then like a dark thunderstorm on the days you didn’t.

So you’d been the only one to see the look in Max’s eye one night when he’d had one too many to drink at a house party, and had wandered out into the garden by himself. You’d spotted him leaving, already having a growing soft spot for your friend at that stage, and had followed him out. It had taken you a while to find him amongst the dark sprawling bushes, but when you did, you promptly sat down next to the much taller Dutchman and didn’t ask him anything. Instead, you told him about the time you’d scored 99.9 on a notoriously difficult advanced calculus exam, and you’d proudly told your father about the result of your months of study, top in your class - and he’d responded by coldly demanding why you didn’t get the 100. What’d you say to him? Max slurred, morbidly intrigued by the story.

Nothing, I was way too upset I'd disappointed him. But I did go fight the Mathematics head professor about giving me the extra 0.1. You shrugged, telling him you probably should’ve just gone to frickin family therapy instead and saved yourself arguing for 45 minutes only to find out 99.9 was the highest possible mark anyways.

Max looked at you, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. You in turn looked back at him with nervous doe eyes, and when he didn’t say anything, anxiously started apologising. Perhaps you’d read his emotions wrong, you didn’t mean to overstep and relate to his own relationship with his father-

Max cuts you off to explain what had been on his mind. I’m sorry, you - you argued for 45 minutes with the department head for an extra 0.1? On top of 99.9? This time, when your gazes meet, you both burst into drunk giggles at the sheer absurdity of a five foot nothing, 15 year old schoolgirl going toe to toe with a grumpy old professor for such a thing.

He’d started opening up to you after that, bit by bit peeling back the onion layers, because you always met his confessions with no judgement because this was his narrative, and helped him reflect on his emotions and understand why, 20 years on, he still couldn't accept a compliment but easily responded to insults. And when you two finally became a couple after a very convoluted weekend in Ibiza - involving multiple schemes from both parties, various slutty outfit choices from Max that showed off his abs, and your use of one (1) Charles Leclerc to make his Dutch childhood karting rival jealous (a story for another time) - you’d heard the full tale of what Max’s upbringing had been like.

And now, 5 years on from the infamous Ibiza weekend, and sitting across from him at dinner as his fiancée, you know instantly from the look in his eyes what's troubling him. You touch his large hand gently to draw him back in, and with a startle he comes back to you, apologising. It’s been a shit last few races, yeah? You start, going straight to the source of his worries. And now a big one this weekend, Zandvoort, your home race.

Max sighs, nodding, grateful for your ability to pick up on what's on his mind without him needing to say it. On your drive home he rants passionately about all the bullshit decisions his team has been making and the problems with the car he's asked to get fix for months. You soothe him reassuringly, rubbing his hand where it rests firmly on your thigh as his other drives, chiming in to agree with his critiques and make him laugh with jokes to diffuse his tension.

And that night he shows you just how thankful he is for all your understanding, picking you up in a display of strength that always has you needy and dripping for him. He smirks as you beg him to take you to bed and fuck me, please Maxie, after he has you breathlessly stretched out on his large, thick fingers. Like the good fiance he is he gives you what you want, all his stress melting away with each strong thrust into your small frame underneath him, your tiny hands clinging desperately to his broad shoulders.

You're furious the next morning when you wake up to multiple calls that there'd been a massive PR scandal within one of your principal investing companies, sending your high profile clients into panic - including your father, who demanded you fly out to London right now to sort this out. You'd been ready to send your executive manager out instead, not wanting to miss this important race for Max - but he'd chuckled and reassured you he was sure he could handle it - having done some odd 200 races or another. So after giving him a guilty kiss, you two fly off in opposite directions. You'd meant to have arrived to the paddock by Saturday noon at the latest, in time for qualifying at least, but London takes longer than expected. You don't come until halfway through the race on Sunday, and see him take P2 after multiple mistakes on the track - both from him and his team. Despite the objectively good result, you know Max would not be pleased. Seeing the stormy expression on his face on the podium after he'd tersely greeted you post-race, you give him his space to cool off, knowing it's not personal. Instead you catch up with the other WAGs and laugh at Charles who still faintly blushes at the sight of you, thinking about Ibiza. But later, when you head to the Redbull garage, you hear raised voices arguing in Dutch - before Jos emerges from Max's room and storms away. You pause before deciding to go in, gently asking how he's doing.

Max, as you expected, scoffs and sarcastically asks how do you think he's doing. You continue reassuring him, being used to seeing him like this after a bad race, and place a soft hand on his shoulder to soothe him - only for him to rip it off you almost violently, making you flinch in surprise. He yells at you to stop pretending like you understood a damn thing, as if you'd have any idea what kind of high pressure he has to deal with compared to your comfortable office job.

You manage to hold it together as you tell him you're going to leave, you'll be flying back to Monaco to sort out your work and will talk to him once he's calmed down. He rolls his eyes, telling you to get out, then and you make sure you're well away from the paddock and in the privacy of a car before you left yourself cry. Max had definitely been angry around you before, even enraged - but you'd never felt the full brunt of it come out and attack you so directly. Taking a deep breath, you focus on calming yourself down, as the argument brings up your anxieties from your own father - who had no problem raising his voice when he was angry. By the time you land in Monaco, you're ready to head back to the office.

The next day as you're coming home from work, unlocking the door to your shared apartment with Max, you stumble forward when the door is yanked open. On the other side is your rather panicked looking fiancee, who says that he'd thought that you- he swallows, looking like he was about to be sick -that you'd left. Forever. Perplexed, you tell him that you’d never do that, not without talking to him, and he launches into a frantic apology, saying that he regretted his words so much, that you didn't deserve to have him take his anger out onto you. Grateful for the sincere apology, you let him know with a genuine smile, saying that you're completely okay now, you had understood he’d been frustrated in the heat of the moment.

But Max's worried looks at you don't stop as you wander off to take a shower and then continue over your favourite dinner that he'd cooked, uncomfortable with the compliments you gave him about it - as per usual, still struggling to accept a kind word about anything he did. When you feel his upset gaze on you again when you're cuddled against his shirtless chest, watching a movie, you decide enough is enough and pressed pause to gently ask him what was on his mind.

That I just let all my anger out onto you like that without any hesitation. And the things I said about your job not being important - God, it’s something my dad would have said. His guilt at having hurt you with his cruel words make his blue eyes bright with the threat of tears. He says he couldn't just accept that you'd let it go because you thought it was fine, because it wasn't, not really, don't ever let me speak to you like that again, schat.

Bringing yourself up to straddle your fiance's wide lap, you settle in comfortably and closely examine the helpless look in his pretty eyes. It's rare for Max to get so worked about something like this, being the rather laid back guy he is off the track. But when he does get like this, all pent up from stress, his father’s expectations heavy on one shoulder and the fear of turning out like him on the other, there’s very few ways to pull him out of his head. Gun to your head, you’ll admit, you had your own personal favourite method for helping Max unwind. Because on nights like these, it's the the only time he'll hand the control over to you in the bedroom and the only place where he'll accept your compliments. With a teasing smile, you pepper him with gentle kisses, erasing away every tense line on his face.

Sure, Max you whisper breathily into his ear, biting the edge of it, I guess I did forgive you too easily. Maybe I should make you work for it, hmm? A delicious pink flush spreads across Max's cheeks, making you grin wickedly and press deep kisses into his soft mouth. He breathlessly whines when you pull away to tease your hand down his muscles chest, stopping just above his low waisted sweats. You can already feel how hard he is underneath you with the impressive semi he’s sporting. Choosing to ignore it, you climb off him and pull him along with you too. He follows you like a lost dog to where you walk over to the kitchen, dropping your hoodie as you went, to reveal a cute La Perla pink set underneath that he'd given you for an anniversary.

When you stop to lean against the counter, eyeing him coyly, he tilts his head down curiously - only to have you tangle your small hands through his messy, long locks and guide him all the way down, until he's on his knees below you. He looks positively delicious, all soft and flushed, as you coo that he needs to prove just how sorry he is, by putting that mean mouth of his to work and eating you out, yeah?

He nods eagerly, burying his large nose right into your core and breathing in, licking furiously through your thin panties and when he tries to yank the lacy garment out of the way, you swat his hand back, telling him no, not yet, he didn’t deserve it.

He whines openly then, teary and breathless against you as he kisses along your thighs, the swell of your ass, and then to your delicate ankle as you teasingly stop him coming any closer with a foot to his toned chest, your gold anklet dangling. Running a hand through his hair again, you tug on it firmly so you can smirk down at him when he begs you please, schat, I promise I’ll be s'good for you-

Your resolve is crumbling at seeing your normally in control fiancé reduced to putty in your small hands. Trying to maintain your willpower, you teasingly pull your pink bralette off first, enjoying the way Max's breath hitches, eyes wide with pure need, as he follows your hands ever so slowly slide your panties down your legs. But he still doesn't move, fists clenched into his thighs, desperate blue eyes looking up at you, waiting for your approval to touch you. You throw him a bone and slide one soft thigh over his broad shoulder, your other leg still leaning against the counter, giving him irresistible access to your dripping pussy. Go on then, baby, you tease, here's your reward.

He buries his tongue into you in half a millisecond, eating you out like he's kneeling at your altar and worshipping your thighs. His large hands squeeze your curvy ass, pulling you even closer onto his tongue as he hungrily eats you out like a starved man. You're moaning sweetly, telling him he's doing so good for you, it feels amazing, that you wonder how the world would react if they knew their favourite F1 champion was as good at eating pussy as he was at driving racecars.

Your praise has him keening, now desperately kissing and sucking your core, and somehow both your thighs have ended up draped across his strong shoulders, his large palms still squeezing your ass. This angle lets him slide in deeper than you’ve ever felt his mouth reach, face completely buried between your thick thighs, and with a few more talented flicks you’re lean back against the counter and squirting right onto his waiting tongue.

Dazed from the intensity of your orgasm, it takes you a few minutes to come down from your high, and Max slowly licks your clit in the meantime, toeing the line to overstimulation. Standing back up shakily from potentially the most mind blowing oral you've ever had in your life, you tilt his chin up to look at you with a gentle hand, giving him a kiss because he was such a good boy, all for me, yeah baby?

He nods furiously, almost looking like a cute Labrador with his blonde hair and blue eyes and you giggle at the mental image, telling him he’s earned his next treat. Max practically stumbles after you as you gently tug him up by his jaw and back over to the comfortable sofa, where he sits down after you playfully shove his chest. His muscular thighs spread wide to make a perfect throne for you to climb onto. He's still in his boxers, his bulge straining against the damp material, and you tease him with a smug smirk, asking if he'd already cum in his pants just from eating you out, like a dirty little perv?

He desperately moans out his No, no, promise I didn’t, held it all back to fill inside you, please- He becomes breathless from your mean hands that tease his cock further through his boxers. When he tried to redirect you, guiding your hand under his boxers to where he really needs it, you shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. You demand to know why he thinks he deserves to put his gross, sticky cum anywhere near your sweet, precious hole, is he at least going to use some manners and ask politely?

Max pants, face flushed and blonde strands attractively stuck to his forehead as he feverishly begs you, please, schat, he needed to be inside of you so bad, he couldn't take it, hadn't he been so good for you already? You can tell your fiance is close to his tipping point, and you almost send him over the edge with a smooth motion as you slip his fully erect, huge cock out of his boxers and start lazily jerking him off. Sliding your fingers into his mouth for him to lick, you smirk as he does exactly that. Using his spit on your hands to give him a couple good pumps - making his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back his orgasm - you guide his throbbing length to your dripping pussy, which is so ready for a second round.

Max screws his eyes shut, head thrown back, as you wickedly torment him some more, dragging his tip teasingly along your puffy lips, drenching him with your slick. His hands dig into the sofa, desperately trying to resist the urge to touch you like you'd ordered him to earlier. And when you finally sink down on him, all the way to his base, he's moaning and begging again, tears in the corner of his eyes as you slowly ride him - edging his poor cock with the relief of your tight, warm cunny but not giving it quite enough pressure. And when your thighs are starting to get tired from the effort, and Max has ripped holes on your sofa while gripping the fabric, you know it's time to let him take control again.

Guiding his hands gently to your waist, you lean forward into his firm chest to whisper Maxie, baby, it's too much for you, can he please help you out and make you cum again-

His eyes snap open, wide blue eyes coming to stare into your pleading doe ones as you hand the power over to him, all dished up on a silver platter with a pretty please. He brings his forehead forward to lean against yours, your ragged breaths meeting as you feel shivers run up your spine in anticipation of what’s coming. Then, with an all too familiar smirk returning to his face, he tightens his hands into a bruising grip on your waist and easily begins bouncing you up and down on his fat cock. His wide thighs, which had been straining in an effort to hold back, now flex as he thrusts deeply into you from below, making you wail at the furious change in pace and you're screaming his name, proving once again just how good he makes you feel. You two barely last another few seconds before you're cumming, your name on his lips as he pumps an obscenely thick creampie into you.

You stay like that for a while, sweaty and tangled in each others arms, exchanging gentle kisses and loving affirmations with him still deep inside you, until sleep starts to take over. Later, after you'd showered because wow, that had been a particularly filthy session, you find yourself stroking his damp hair as he lies against your chest, the rest of his body on the bed to keep the weight off you. Thank you, liefje, he murmurs sleepily against you. At your inquisitive hmm? he presses a loving kiss to your skin, telling you his thanks was for always knowing how to calm me down. For always bringing me back home. I love you.

You smile in the dark, warmth blooming across your chest as you press a kiss to his head. Always, Max, just like you do for me. I love you too.

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

A/N: SOO i never thought i'd write this but after zandervoot im manifesting the return of max supremacy with this. had to rewrite a bunch of times cause genuinly couldn’t picture max as sub instead of dom so lmk what u guys think!! Also… should i do a part 2 where its the reader with daddy issues instead hehehe 😼😼😮‍💨

[crljhnn]

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

[tleeaves]

Folks going "WHAT they made a show about the Fallout franchise?? I've been hearing people say Bethesda messed it up, but I haven't watched it myself, so I'm going to trust the word of other people -- some of which also haven't finished watching it" is driving me insane.

Being a hard core fan of something obviously brings with it a lot of passionate feelings when adaptations come into play. Of course, there's going to be people going "but in 8 episodes of the first ever season they made, they didn't explore Theme C or D, didn't introduce factions E and F and G, and because the source company is notorious for its scams, we and everyone else who's a TRUE fan should hate it".

The Amazon Original series Fallout follows the videogame franchise of the same name. It is a labour of love and you can tell by the attention to detail, the writing, the sets, and YES THE THEMES ARGUE WITH THE WALL. It's clearly fan service. I mean, the very characterisation of Lucy is a deadringer for someone playing a Fallout game for the first time. She embodies the innocent player whose expectations drastically change in a game that breaks your heart over and over again. Of course, she's also the vessel through which we explore a lot of themes, but I'll get to that.

There're some folks arguing that the show retcons the games, and I gotta say... for a website practically built on fandom culture, why are we so violently against the idea of someone basing an adaptation on a franchise that so easily lends itself to new and interesting interpretations? But to be frank, a lot of what AO's Fallout is not that new. We have: naive Vault dweller, sexy traumatised ghoul that people who aren't cowards will thirst over, and pathetic guy from a militaristic faction. We also have: total atomic annihilation, and literally in-world references to the games' lore and worldbuilding constantly (the way I was shaking my sister over seeing Grognark the Barbarian, Sugar Bombs, Cram, Stimpaks, and bags of RadAway was ridiculous). Oh, and the Red Rocket?? Best pal Dogmeat? I'm definitely outing myself as specifically a Fallout 4 player, but that's not the point you should be taking away from this.

The details, the references, and the new characters -- this show is practically SCREAMING "hey look, we did this for the fans, we hope you love it as much as we do". Who cares that the characters are new, they still hold the essence of ones we used to know! And they're still interesting, so goddamn bloody interesting. Their arcs mean so much to the story, and they're told in a genuinely intriguing way. This isn't just any videogame adaptation, this was gold. This sits near Netflix's Arcane: League of Legends level in videogame adaptation. Both series create new plots out of familiar worlds.

Of course, those who've done the work have already figured out AO's Fallout is not a retcon anyway. But even if it was, that shouldn't take away from the fact that this show is actually good. Not even just good, it's great.

Were some references a little shoe-horned in to the themes by the end of the show, such as with "War never changes"? Yes, I thought so. But I love how even with a new plot and characters, they're actually still exploring the same themes and staying true to the games. I've seen folks argue otherwise, but I truly disagree. The way capitalism poisons our world, represented primarily through The American Dream and the atomic age of the 45-50s that promoted the nuclear family dynamic -- it's there. If you think it's glorifying it by leaning so heavily into in the adaptation, I feel like you're not seeing it from the right angle. It's like saying Of Mice And Men by John Steinbeck glorifies the American Dream, when both this book and the Fallout franchise are criticisms of it. If you think about it, the post-apocalyptic world of Fallout is a graveyard to the American Dream. This criticism comes from the plots that are built into every Fallout story that I know of. The Vaults are literally constructed to be their own horror story just by their mere existence, what they stand for, what happens in each of them. The whole entire show is about the preservation of the wrong things leading to fucked up worlds and people. The missions of the Vaults are time and again proven to be fruitless, unethical, plain wrong. Lucy is our brainwashed character who believed in the veritable cult she lived in before she found out the truth.

So then consider the Brotherhood of Steel. I really don't think it exists in the story to glorify the military. We see just how much the Brotherhood has brainwashed people like Max (also, anything ominously named something like "the Brotherhood" should raise eyebrows). Personally, I don't like Max, but I am intrigued by his characterisation. I thought the end of his arc was rushed the way he "came good" basically, but [SPOILERS] having him embraced as a knight in the Brotherhood at the end against his will -- finally getting something he always wanted -- and him grimly accepting it from all that we can tell? Him having that destiny forced upon him now that he's swaying? After he defected? If his storyline is meant to be a tragedy, it wouldn't surprise me, because Fallout is rife with tragedies anyway. And a tragedy would also be a criticism of the military. That's what Max's entire arc is. It goes from the microcosm focusing on the cycle of bullying between soldiers to the macro-environment where Max is being forced to continue a cycle of violence against humanity he doesn't want to anymore because a world driven to extremes forces him to choose it to survive (not to mention what a cult and no family would do to his psyche). Let's not forget what the Brotherhood's rules are: humankind is supreme. Mutants, ghouls, synths, and robots are abominations to be hated and destroyed. If you can't draw the parallels to the real world, you need to retake history and literature classes. The Brotherhood is also about preserving the wrong things, like the Vaults (like the Enclave, really). They just came about through different method. The Enclave is capitalism and twisted greed in a world where money barely exists anymore. The Brotherhood is, well, fascism plain and simple.

Are these the only factions in the Fallout franchise? Hell no. But if you're mad about that -- that they're the main ones explored, apart from the NCR -- I think you're missing the point. These themes, these reminders, are highly relevant in the current climate. In fact, I almost think they always will be relevant unless we undergo drastic change. On the surface-level, Fallout seems like the American ideal complete with guns blazing that guys in their basements jerk off to. Under that surface, is a mind-fuck story about almost the entire opposite: it's a deconstruction of American ideals that are held so closely by some, and the way that key notion of freedom gets twisted, and you're shooting a guy in-game because it's more merciful than what the world had in store for him.

I mean, the ghoul's a fucking cowboy from the wild west character he used to play in Hollywood glam and his wife was one of the people who helped blow up America in the name of capitalism and "peace". There are so many layers of this to explore, I'd need several days to try and keep track and go through it all.

The Amazon Prime show is a testament to the Fallout franchise. The message, the themes? They were not messed up or muddled or anything of the sort, in my opinion.

As for Todd Howard, that Bethesda guy, I'm sure there's perfectly valid reasons to hate him. I mean, I've hated people for a lot less valid reasons, and that's valid. We all got our feelings. But the show is about more than just him. My advice is to keep that in mind when you're judging it.

[larrylimericks]

23Mar23

We’re feeling some internal friction At silver screen Louis’ depiction; All the world is a stage But it’s hard to engage When plot lines combine fact and fiction.

I get really rambly below the fold. Proceed with caution if you’re over the discourse already.

I debated seeing All of Those Voices in theaters. I didn’t see either of Harry’s films in theaters — Harries are too much of a wildcard, and I refused to sit through hours of squeals and gasps and reactions, not to the movie but to “omg! Harry’s going down on someone! omg, Harry’s bum!” So I was already tentative about seeing Louis’ film in a shared space, outside the protective silos of tumblr. But I bought a ticket, because I want to support him and because I was genuinely curious what story would be told. Then we got the trailer and I hesitated again, not wanting to watch a propaganda film. But, I’ve lived through all the other Bullshit moments, so I figured I could live through Bullshit on the big screen.

My theater crowd was great — pretty neutral aside from an amusing row of politely excitable Larries I was in secret solidarity with. And I pretty much loved the film. Well, 92% of it. I look forward to watching it again when it streams. I mean, it was an hour and a half of content featuring this fascinating creature we’re all obsessed with. I didn’t want to blink. I hung on his every word (when I could understand them). How cool to get, essentially, a long-form interview, where he’s not promoting an album and we’re not getting the same sound bytes. Louis is wonderfully open and vulnerable, and the story of his life (heh) is inherently compelling. The cinematography is beautiful. The behind-the-scenes are delightful and delicious. I can’t wait for the AOTV gif sets once we have it in high-def.

But it has some plot holes as wide and deep as the ones in Don’t Worry Darling.

First, there’s the confusing (to the uninformed) absence of a love interest. Louis is asexual, as far as the film goes. There’s not even a ghost of Eleanor, with whom he’s cumulatively spent a decade and who is supposed to have inspired so many great love songs and with whom he is supposed to have survived a pandemic. Props to E for living her best life now: going to see Scream on AOTV opening day, enjoying full custody of the pups, publicly supporting her assumed partner — sorry you got Kiki Layned from the film, but I’m guessing you weren’t even written into the script. (It’s not like the film was conveniently re-edited in the months since their break-up. Her stunt tapering was intentional.)

Then there’s the glaring absence of a baby mama (thank god; that family would have been even more insufferable). We’re cruising along for 45 minutes or so and then, wham, Dad!Louis enters the chat with a fully formed 6-year-old child. The kid just magically appears with no backstory — just like in real life ... twice (the first time with the pregnancy announcement and the second time with the revival of Dad!Louis after several years of dormancy, right in time for documentary filming. Just like Harry stunted with his co-star during filming and production, Louis stunted with his.)

The kid is cute, and faultless in this. The scenes are objectively sweet (as they were designed to be). But Louis, who normally keeps things very close to the vest, is all of a sudden an emotional spigot you can’t turn off when it comes to these scenes. It seems quite out of character. Which brings back to mind that this Louis *is* a character. The Freddie scenes just didn’t seem to have a point in the plot other than: Louis is a dad. And that role isn’t integral to the film’s story.

He’s incredibly emotional with Freddie, but the movie doesn’t tell us why. The storytelling gets lazy here. The lad/dad plot seems wedged in. The movie would be perfectly complete without it. I felt like it could have been integrated a few different ways: Louis experienced tragedy after tragedy after tragedy — loses 1D, loses his mum, loses his sister ... and then impending fatherhood either becomes another trial he must reluctantly face (in the surprise pregnancy narrative) or it helps him navigate the grief of losing his sole parent, his closest confidante. OR, Louis, not wanting to be like the absentee father he had, shows up for his own oopsie baby despite the unexpected circumstances. But there’s no exposition or rising action. No footage or photos from the first few years of the kid’s life that we haven’t already seen. Just an immaculate conception.

I think the most compelling narratives of the film are these:

Louis’ overcoming adversity after adversity after adversity. Holy hell. I lived through 1D ending, through the devastating news about Jay (god, I remember the shock and sadness of that day — it was incomprehensible), through the heartbreaking news about Fizzy, and then when you think Louis is gonna get his moment of victory with his first solo world tour, coronavirus pulls the rug out. (That sequence was well done: where we keep seeing the dates get closer and closer to March 2020, and we all know the villain that’s coming, but it’s still such a blow.) I lived through all that in real time, but seeing it in such a concentrated sequence really highlights the shit he’s been dealt, and hearing him open up about so much of it ... that’s the character development relevant to the film’s denouement. And getting to see Louis get what he deserves, finally, and hearing him acknowledge that he deserves it, was a lovely ending.

Louis’ journey to find his footing and his confidence as a solo artist after unfathomable success as part of a group. But, in a sort of plot twist, he’s not really solo, is he? The film gives a lovely introduction to his band now — and in their own words, reveals that they’re not just a backing band, they’re a *band* band. Louis has let them in. He’s forged a new brotherhood. *That*, for me, was the heartwarming story. I loved those scenes, loved seeing Louis in his element, which is in a collective, where he is both king and jester at the same time. (Or perhaps Oli’s the jester. Thank fuck for him, man. Oli is the standout. The breakthrough performance. The comic relief. I want a spinoff series.) It’s easy to miss 1D and glorify those short years and think nothing will ever top it, but Charlie’s storytelling of the LT Band is remarkable. We’re left looking forward, not back.

I know Louis’ dedication to his fans and his fans’ dedication to him is a huge focus, but I don’t really enjoy watching commentaries on fandoms I’m a part of. I’m living it. I don’t need outsider context. And in a fandom as fractured as Louis’ (and 1D’s) there’s not a universal experience. The film depicts dedication as sleeping on streets for rail, hopping from country to country and draining bank accounts — because that’s the kind of “superfandom” that gets easily turned into a marketable freak show. Show me the documentary on the fans who organize the light projects, who run the fashion accounts, who curate livestream sources on show nights, who have turned giffing into an art and science, who help promote Louis in the absence of a competent marketing team, etc., etc. I also thought the interview with the American(?) girls talking about LATAM shows was shortsighted. And showing the rainbow factions but not addressing them? What a missed opportunity to talk about songs like Only the Brave becoming a queer anthem. Straight artists can have gay fans, you know.

But the film doesn’t make the kid relevant to any of those storylines. He could have been worked into the first, but wasn’t. It was like a standalone narrative, with footage from a narrow set of days. I was at both those L.A. shows. The energy was so different from night 1 to 2. And in retrospect it’s clear Louis was performing the first night so Charlie could get the right shots. More like a choreographed play than a rock concert. It makes sense now why the Clarks weren’t in the VIP box with Freddie — couldn’t have them cluttering the frame or distracting the actors. Just, everything about the Freddie scenes is heavy-handed. Make a sign for your dad! Draw his logo in the sand! Fly a kite at sunset! He’s the spitting image of Louis! (Len does all the heavy lifting.) And all the maneuvering it had to take to get all those shots from the L.A. show?! In the VIP box from behind (and from the front, and when he just happens to be mouthing along to Two Of Us), side stage watching Louis end the show, on-stage watching Louis approach Freddie after the show, on-stage catching the moment Louis gives the lad a shout-out ... Charlie had a shot list. But sure, nothing was set up, it was totally organic.

I’m still unsettled by how heavily Charlie laid it on at the first premiere press conference — *he* was the one to bring up the kid, and was weirdly emphatic that nothing was staged, nothing was forced. It had the same energy of the “It’s. Not. Real” thrown baby doll moment, only it’s Charlie insisting that It. Is. Real. Thou dost protest too much, me thinks.

And of course, the lack of interaction between Louis and Harry remains, as ever, the biggest tell. We get poignant post-1D Nouis and Lilo moments in the film, but no Larry. We’re spoon-fed these Very Emotional Moments between father and son (“love you,” “Darling,” mouth kisses), when the real story, the real emotion, the real connection is in just a few seconds of furtive glances between Harry and Louis in the backstage footage of the last 1D performance. Christ, the way Harry’s eyes bore into Louis — chin tilted down, eyes glancing up from beneath a furrowed brow, lips tight, disguising his attentiveness with a hair flip ... they mastered so many forms of silent communication. The quiet call and response, the depths of love and care and concern and protection contained in micro-expressions. Fuck, give me 90 minutes of that. Just a silent film of Louis and Harry looking at each other.

Anyway. Sorry this sounds so grumpy. I did really love most of the movie. But I haven’t made sense of why this film was made. I don’t know its purpose. Maybe the introspection forced by the pandemic lockdown is to credit for this glut of music docs (“docs”) lately. Maybe nine minutes frees him up for nine more months or nine more years. I dunno. He obviously wanted this story told in this way.

Seeing a movie requires the willing suspension of disbelief. You have to ignore critical thinking in order to enjoy the story you’re being told. You tune out your knowledge that everything is fake for the sake of being entertained. We know that Superman can’t actually fly, but we still buy tickets to the cinema. But, a documentary shouldn’t require us to employ this semi-conscious perceiving mode. Yet here we are. I’m just not sure how much more or how much longer we can suspend our disbelief to enjoy fandom.

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Part 30

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29

Comment: I am sorry that this is so endless and I thank you all for keeping up with it. I think this might go until Chapter 45~50. Hope you all enjoy the little twist in the story as well.

It seemed like an eternity until Crocodile finally came back. Your thirst was slowly driving you mad and your thoughts started to circulate around water and Buggys concern. You could hear your captors steps approaching, he took his time, knowing he was in charge of whatever would happen next. “Willing to talk now?”, you can see his dark smile on your right, he is holding a glass of water in his hand and you are willing to do anything just for a sip of it. He realizes your begging eyes, seeming to bathe in your desire. Slowly he removes the gag and you gasp, carefully moving your mouth muscles which have become so painfully stiff being forced in the same position. Crocodile smiles even wider as he sets the glass to your lips, seeing you drink in wild desire. 

“There, there…” he gently whispers, his voice making you feel uncomfortable to your inner core. “Where is Buggy? Why did you bring me here?”

Crocodile laughs, taking the glass aside and adjusting his fur coat while still standing over you, his shadow casting on your face. “I told you already - Buggy is fine. More than fine with all the money I paid him to obtain you. And you should know why I brought you here. I have two simple reasons - one is your value and the other is you being the perfect trap for the damn straw hat…!” You have a hard time following him, also not believing the thing he says about Buggy. “You are telling me Buggy sold me. But I don't believe that. He is my captain and he knows I am loyal to him…” “That is what you want to believe…”, Crocodile snarls, taking another deep breath from his cigar, puffing the smoke into your face, causing you to cough.  “But your captain allowed us on board and also gave us the permission to take you with us. You will join me in Alabasta, building up a little syndicate there and becoming an influential advisor to the king…”  He finds the horror and disbelief in your eyes amusing and laughs even more.  “Y/n, I know about your charm and your persuasion skills. I know what happened in Windmill village and how you successfully lead these young revolutionaries to overthrow the city council there. And killing the tax collector…”, he bends over you again, his hook carefully touching your bangs, you shudder. “You are a dangerous and ambitious woman. I need you to join me when I take over Alabasta…” 

“So this was your plan? To abduct me from the Buggy pirates to take me with you to Alabasta and then overthrow the king there? Why would you think I would join a low pirate like you?”,  you try to sound threatening but you realize that your voice is shaking. 

“Well, what other choice do you have? Waiting for Buggy? He won't come. Waiting for the Straw hat? Even if he comes to rescue you, then I will finally take my revenge on him. Whatever you decide, I will win since you already have lost!” 

“Buggy will come for me!”, you scream, lifting your body against the shuckles. You see a dangerous glimmer in Crocodiles eyes as he smiles at you: “Your captain will never ever come for you again. But don't worry, I can be your new lover…!”, he tries to touch your face with his left hand and you quickly move your head to bite him with full power. “Ahhh!”, he yells in agony and gives you a strong plow with the hook on his other hand. For a moment you see stars, the pain rushing through your head to your face, mixing in your mouth with the taste of blood. He immediately gags you again, stepping back into the dark. 

“You will eventually follow me, you weak little brat…!”, you can hear him laugh as he leaves the room leaving you alone with your agony. 

Hours feel like days and the darkness feels endless on you and your hurting face. The glass of water has only brought you a temporary relief and you soon feel thirsty again as well as hungry. How many hours have you been here? How many of these hours have you been unconscious? And where was Buggy? Why would he sell you to one of the warlords of the sea? Or was it true and he had planned to do this all along? The longer you lay here the more the thoughts are gnawing on you and you start to doubt every single of your actions until now. You think of Luffy and where he might be at this point. Probably also somewhere on the Grand Line, being carefree and hoping you were well. As the hours turn into a slimy thick package you again and again drift into a shallow sleep, having nightmares of Buggy abandoning you and Crocodile taking you to Alabasta. 

On another time of these endless naps when you wake up and feel thirst and pain all over your body Crocodile is coming back into the room, without further ado he untags you and opens the shackles on your hand and feet. Too weak to stand up he just offers you half of a glass of water, when holding it to your mouth you have a hard time swallowing being gagged for such a long time. You are in complete shock and unable to defend yourself as he swiftly lifts you up, taking you in his hands and outside of the room. Bright daylight blinds you as you are suddenly on deck of a ship, haven't seen the sun for hours or days and you feel like the sunshine is burning your eyes. “Look, Y/n. Your new home…” you can hear the excitement in Crocodile's voice and you tiredly let your head roll to the side, slowly opening your eyes, giving them time to get used to the sun again. You can see a sandy stretch of a long island in front of you, the yellow desert in stark contrast to the blue bright sky above. 

“Alabasta.”, you utter faintly and still hope that all this is just a nightmare to wake up from. 

[jazzcoffeeartcafeofficial]

NEW UPDATES REGARDING LIFE

Okay, so I know I havent been publishing any art and i've been dead quiet, well once like I mentioned before, I have been focused on my life, I have been dealing with so much stress, finding a job, dealing with the puppies, my family struggling with money, so unfortunatly, I have not found a job of what I went to school for, so unfortunately I am going to have to step back. Yesterday, my mom and dad was discussing more financial issues,my dad is already wanting to pawn his rings which my mom says it's a bad idea, everyone in the household is struggling, my brothers needing money, my dad needing to pay his bill but needing to give my older brother money or my younger brother money, needing to buy groceries(Literally been eating just sandwiches). Buying the puppy food and dog food in general.

I saw the frustration in everyone's faces, my mom's face when I asked her if she was okay, her response was, "I want..to scream..." I've been very unlucky to find a job it's been a year and some months without a job..., yesterday I broke down and cried because of everything that's going on, that's coming from someone who loves to motivate people and always stay positive no matter what and a fighter who loves to take on challenges, I don't believe in giving up, that's why I told my mom,

"I know you don't want me working at the Dollar Store/Stores/FastFood but I have no other choice, this is not by choice, I have to...if I had a choice, it wouldn't be fast food obviously... i've applied and even called my old boss from Dairy Queen but he already hired 3 new people during the time I was back and forth with the workforce setting up unnecessary meetings and Manpower not calling me back with anything... and I am not gonna wait until my old boss has another position open....you all need help, you think this isn't impacting me?? I am 27 years old going on 28 this year, time is flying, I have plans for my life.. and I am willing to take on whatever challenges that come to me, just so I can help you.. and help me move on....to live my life...to live where I want to live and still supporting you all in every and any way I can, in the state I want to live. So Mom, please...I know what I am doing...at this rate, I just need something to provide me income..

I am not even gonna be able to pay my bills this month.... literally my 2 credit cards have $2 and $4... and 60 some cents in my bank.... so I am expecting to be hit with an overdraft fee..) And this isn't to guilt trip or make you all donate to me, I just want you all to be aware of my life situation right now.

When I get a job, I am not gonna make the same mistake as I did before, I am gonna focus on what I need, and my savings. Of course I will buy merch every now and then but not as frequent as I was before.

I am adding to my list, something that I've never thought about doing until my heart and brain told me, just now, I want to go for a history degree, i'd like to work at a museum since it's art related...I am telling myself, why didn't i thought of this before???It's something I'd like to work at since it's Art related, it fits me.

So please guys, understand what i am going through. I've still been doing things here and there. And a side note for @xxk3vonicaxx

I know I still owe you $45 for the character, I have not forgotten, and I am happy you don't mind holding the character for me, as soon as I start working (getting a job somewhere) I will begin to pay the rest of the amount for you.

Thank you all for understanding, I am still doing my music, and singing them and doing my art and stories, but I am slow at it.

[matan4il]

hello alice! it’s miya here & yes it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been in your ask box! i recently just had 3 surgeries that were basically two in my nose & then i had to get my tonsils out again so i’ve essentially been recovering from that & not in the mood to talk mostly. I do however hope all has been well with you.

since the finale is right around the corner, I wanted to talk to you about buck’s growth this season. we know in the beginning that buck was upset about not getting picked as interim captain despite the fact that he was not clearly ready, the couch theory & how actually death experiences can reset all the progress you’ve made.

i’ve see a lot of folks saying buck has regressed back into old habits & i’d say that’s not true. Buck agreeing to be a donor in the beginning was something he did because he’s buck but the influence around him saying yes was mainly what connor said to him about him being such a good person & what not. now after he dies buck realized he can’t live based off of how others see him & make decisions solely off of that which is why things quickly ended with natalia. i thought it was funny how she said she needed a minute to think & not 10 seconds later she left 😭. Buck didn’t necessarily chase after her for the sake of getting her back but i think he wanted her so badly to understand & it’s like there is already someone in his life who understands & sees him for who he really is and that’s eddie. it’s hard to see someone who buck may feel like kinda has to accept him for all he is cause that’s his best friend as a potential partner but i think there is a possibility we might see that in the finale.

we know the entire 118 is in danger, now granted we have no idea what that means & since we logically only have 45 minutes to tell this story, there is a possibility of things not being completely wrapped up. i wanted to also point out that the only two people (technically 3 if you count chris) who know that buck does not have a couch is Bobby & Eddie. two important people in his life who buck would quite literally lay his life down for. Buck told eddie that “maybe he does not want to pick the wrong couch again” & then he later on told bobby that “im afraid im gonna keep on making the same mistakes” it’s clear buck wants to go about things differently but it’s a matter of how?

i think he was on his way there but then he died and suddenly life got confusing for him. sometimes i think people downplay the fact that buck’s heart stopped & how he genuinely felt like he got away with something when he woke up in the hospital. of course he is going to go around making the most of life. now the way he goes about it may not be the way we want it to happen but it does make sense for bucks character. he wants to treat every waking moment as a gift & that’s things are a sign cause he feels like he’ll never get that lucky again & that’s ultimately very sad.

i think we’ll definitely see buck in s more bigger leadership position next monday however the biggest difference is that his team will be a witness. his team doesn’t know how buck took charge when the tsunami happened or how he saved eddie’s life during the shooting & i’m still on the fence of if eddie knows that. i hope they see what he’s capable of but I hope buck see’s that he’s already had these skills in him it was just a matter of tapping into them.

the couch theory idk.. they have been making it a point to show buck, chris on the couch & then chris and eddie with a space open for one more as if we wouldn’t notice but idk we will see. maybe buck takes eddie home after everything & he falls asleep on the couch after putting chris to bed & everything kinds of falls into place

anyways sorry for my rambling. i have had all of this on my mind for a while lol but again I hope all is well with yous and that life has been treating you good. ❤️

Hi darling! OMG, 3 surgeries? That's so much, especially over such a short period of time. I hope you're doing better now? And thank you for the kind words and for caring. I'm not doing so hot at the moment, but hoping it'll get better. *HUGS*

TBH, I'm not sure what I think. I do expect the finale not to wrap everything up, because they have so many balls they've been juggling up in the air, the bridge collapse will take up a huge part of the ep, so I really don't know how much they can condense into this and address all of the threads that they opened this season. I do absolutely expect that there will be circles that they'll be closing, like Buck moving from feeling dejected over not being considered for the position of interim captain in 601, to acting as captain in the field when the 118 (with Bobby) goes down. And since 601 linked Buck figuring his own life out enough to be able to take this position by linking to the metaphor of the couch, I very much expect to see some return to that, although all may not be resolved in 618. Kind of like how 414 gave us the talk between Buddie to resolve Buck's immediate sense of guilt over seeing Eddie getting shot in front of his very eyes, but it didn't resolve the "make sure you follow your heart" thread that was opened in 413. Eddie still needed to go through it at the beginning of s5 in order to choose himself and be able to break up with Ana in 503. Similarly, Buck was just starting things out with Taylor in 414, and he needed all of s5 to break up with her, even though it was clear they were wrong for each other from the start, and especially as their first kiss was born from Buck's distress over Eddie getting shot in front of his own eyes.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I'm looking forward to screaming over 618 with you once it airs! Sending tons of love and good healing vibes to you, lovely. (as always, here's my ask tag) xoxox

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 47: The Lesser Gaps

Previous chapters // Montserrat’s masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​ @averyhotchner​​​ @abzidabzy​​​ @hellofutur​​​ @foxesandmagic​​ @xovalliegirlxo​​​

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

Early in the morning is when SVU received their newest case. A pinboard had already gotten started by the time noon rolled by.

"The housekeeper of the victim confirms what the daughters told us before," Olivia was walking the detectives through the case with the pinboard.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Sonny said all of a sudden. He was leaning forwards on his chair, nearly looking ready to climb over the table to get to the pinboard. "The victim is Mr. Walter as in Walter Briggs, the writer?"

"Does that have any relevance?" Montserrat arched an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, yeah, Pulitzer Prize, National Book Award…" He went off the imaginary list on his fingers and since he seemed to be going for the long haul, Olivia cut him off.

"Well, he's nearly 80, and his wife — his sixth wife who's 45 — and making him have sex constantly."

"Is that a crime or an old man's dream?" Amanda asked with a pen raised in the air. Her expression was half disbelieving the story Olivia was presenting.

"The daughters say that she wants another child, so if he is incapable of giving consent, then they're right, it's...it's rape."

"Yeah, and the fact that the alleged rapist is his wife is legally irrelevant but, I mean, of all the people...I mean, have you guys read Briggs' book "The Fifth Assailant"?" Sonny waited for anyone to answer him but he was mighty disappointed to see the same blank faces. "The guy is a literary genius!"

Nick seemed to have been working on something and it was at that moment that he finally remembered what it was. "Isn't he the literary genius who threw one of his wives through a plate glass window?"

Sonny's face fell but, to his credit, he did answer honestly. "Yeah, there's actually a scene based on that in the book."

"Nice guy for sure," Montserrat said sarcastically, eyes darting to the pinboard. "Okay, so the complaints are coming from his daughters, right? What's in it for them? The man's rich, isn't he? Do the daughters get a bigger slice of the estate?"

Olivia shrugged. "We don't know but for now we've got an allegation, we have corroborations, so you two—" Her finger made a point towards Sonny then Montserrat, "—go speak with the happy couple."

Montserrat pushed herself up from her chair. "I'm game but as long as I get to go with my partner and not a fanboy," she sent a pointed look in Sonny's way. He rolled his eyes at her in return.

To his heavy annoyance, she had the full support of the rest of the squad.

~ 0 ~

Charmaine Briggs turned out to be a rather pretty redhead with a graceful aura. She welcomed the strange detectives into her home with a polite smile. She led them to her elder husband who was sitting in the study room. Walter Briggs greeted them normally but it wasn't that difficult to tell that sometimes his mind would wander.

"I should say I'm still not quite sure why you're here," Charmaine's voice was nothing but polite but both Montserrat and Sonny detected the subtle edginess underlying her words. She was practically demanding them to explain the reason for their presence in her home.

"It's called a welfare check," Montserrat started explaining. "We do it from time to time, mostly with seniors."

"I'm guessing that would be me, huh?" Walter's light sarcasm was met with mutual smiles from the others. However, Charmaine's was short-lived.

"Oh, dear, did my husband's daughters call you?"

"They did express some concern," Sonny cleared his throat. "They said they weren't allowed to see Mr. Briggs?"

Charmaine didn't look the least bit surprised by the accusations. She very calmly put her tea cup on the coffee table and offered both detectives apologetic smiles. "This is one of those difficult family situations...stepmother, stepdaughters. I'm sure it happens all the time."

"Mhm, I'm sure it does but actually, Mrs. Briggs, would you mind if we...if we spoke separately?" Montserrat rose from her seat with the question. "It's just standard procedure."

Charmaine shook her head. "As a matter of fact, I do mind. Walter and I don't keep secrets from each other, do we, Walter?"

Walter dutifully shook his head as well. "Not really, no. I humor her." He winked but it was unclear who it was meant for — the detectives or his wife?

"So what exactly did you want to talk about?"

Montserrat shrugged. If that's how the woman wanted to play it then so be it. "It's pretty personal. Pertaining to your sex life."

That certainly got Charmaine to stiffen. "And that's a police matter?"

"79 and stiff as a varnished eel," Walter suddenly said. "A varnished eel. My third wife took up with a bartender because I got distracted by my book on the pope. Now, you spend six months in the Vatican, and you'll see what happens to your testicles."

Montserrat was out of ideas about what the man could possibly be talking about. She was even more discouraged from talking when the man winked at her. Of course then she remembered she did in fact carry the fanboy beside him and turned to him with an expectant look.

""Roman Follies". It was a wonderful book, sir. I read it in college," Sonny told the man. "Okay, so Mr. Briggs, you're happy to keep your wife satisfied?"

"Well, of course I am. I mean, just look at her," Walter languidly gestured towards his smiling wife. "Moreover, I'm obliged. It's a man's duty to nature. A million years of evolution, you know. Oh, these feminists, they can preach and screech all they want, but until the day that a man suckles an infant and a woman goes out and hunts, and…" He trailed off only to return with the same sentence over and over. "A woman goes out and hunts, and…"

It was as if the detectives could see the literal lights switched off.

"What?" The man blinked at them. "I'm sorry. What?"

Charmaine lowered his pointing finger with a sigh. "I'm sorry. My husband's very tired, but as you can see, we are fine."

A short moment later, the two detectives were led out of the house.

"She's got the politeness downpacked," Montserrat said as soon as they were free on the street. "But I'm having trouble deciding whether or not she's being honest."

"I know that Briggs is," Sonny said and was soon subjected to a look from his partner.

"Is this coming from Detective Carisi or the fanboy?"

He rolled his eyes. Montserrat laughed as they came to a stop by their car. "Like you're not a fan of anything?" He unlocked the doors for them.

Montserrat swayed her head a few times before uttering a name, "Alicia Markova." She pulled open the passenger door and got inside while Sonny tried working through the mysterious name.

"Okay, what!?" He climbed into the driver's seat eventually if only for Montserrat to see his utterly confused face. "Who's that?"

"A ballerina you idiot," Montserrat laughed. "She was one of the best ballerinas. She performed in places where ballet hadn't even been done before. But you know what, even if I was around her — or any other of my favorite celebrities — I wouldn't let that get in the way of my job."

"I wouldn't," he assured her.

"Okay," Montserrat raised her hands in a surrender motion. "Now drive. We gotta explain this trip to Olivia and then, if we get lucky, Rafael."

Sonny agreed with a nod. The fact that their visit hadn't gone all that good was enough of a conflict. Hearing Rafael say it out loud was another thing neither looked forward to.

"You're kidding me. His daughters are complaining, but he isn't?" The ADA did nothing to hide his distaste even when Olivia did her best beforehand to make the case sound like a real case, which it was (in her mind).

"Yeah, he says he's doing his manly duty by keeping his woman satisfied," Sonny said, awkwardly clearing his throat in the end. He was pretty sure, like the rest of the squad, that this wasn't a clear point case. There were different elements to it and not all of them were good.

Rafael led the group into his office, doing very little (if he was being honest with himself) to find cause for a further investigation. So far, no one had said anything alarming. "So he's consenting to the sexual activity?"

"Him and his varnished eel…"

"Okay, but is he capable of consent? I mean, what's he like?"

"He winked at Montserrat a couple times," Sonny shrugged, missing the way the woman in question threw him a look.

Bemusement sparked in Rafael's eyes. "Really?"

Montserrat knew that teasing voice anywhere and immediately glared at him. "Shut up." Her command did nothing for his widening smile.

"Alright, anything else?" Olivia motioned the two detectives to move onto more important details.

"He quoted from an essay about manly men that he wrote in "Playboy" in 1972, and then just like that—" Sonny snapped his fingers, "—he goes off into ga-ga land. It was sad. The guy was a titan."

"It does seem like we should dig in a little further," Montserrat said. "If the guy goes off into space so often, who's to say that his wife doesn't take advantage?"

"Who's to say that she does at all?" Rafael countered. Montserrat's face fell flat. "I am only asking a question that needs to be thought of as well."

"Alright, well what about this?" Olivia was suddenly waving her phone at him. "Mr. Briggs just went to the hospital. Apparent heart attack. The daughter said that he had a heart condition. If the wife knew and was secretly feeding him those pills…"

"Yeah, that's assault three," Sonny jumped on her trail. "Recklessly causing physical injury to another person, maybe even attempted murder. Am I right, counselor?"

"Seldom," Rafael flatly shot him down. As soon as he saw Montserrat's growing impatience with him, he tried to remedy some of the situation. He didn't need grief about this later. "Unless the daughters can give you proof that the wife knew about the heart condition and was exacerbating it, you've got nothing."

"Alright," Olivia took on the challenge with a tight smile. She made a motion for Sonny and Montserrat to follow her out.

Montserrat was the last one to follow but before she left, Rafael called out slightly quieter, "Don't flirt back with him, okay?" He absolutely loved her reaction that it was almost impossible not to laugh on the spot.

"Funny?" She glared at him. "Have dinner by yourself. Hope that's fun!"

"Oh, Montse," he was left to laugh alone.

~ 0 ~

"Dr. Tedroe?" Olivia stopped a woman passing by them in the hallway.

The doctor's eyes flickered past Olivia to the two detectives flanking her. "Are you here because of the incident?"

"Yes, we're wondering if Mr. Briggs' heart attack could have been caused by his medication."

"I don't know. I never got the chance to take a complete medical history."

"Why not?" Montserrat arched an eyebrow at the doctor.

Tedro seemed just as puzzled for some reason. That never boded well. "I thought that's why you're here. His wife arrived 20 minutes ago with a private ambulance and removed him from the hospital against medical advice. She pulled him off the EKG monitor and was in such a hurry, she took our IV pump with her. The nurses didn't try to stop her because Mr. Briggs needed it to maintain."

A mutual outrage went from the Sergeant to the detectives. Were they hearing right!?

"Can he maintain outside the hospital?" Olivia asked.

"Maybe, maybe not. His wife has put his life in jeopardy."

"And you just let her take him?" The question tumbled out of Sonny's mouth before he knew it. Of course he realized that it wasn't the doctor's fault for this. It was Charmaine's.

"We got the court order!" One of Walter's daughters, Judith, came rushing towards them with her step sister Delilah in toe. "Where's our dad?"

Everyone exchanged glances with each other as they decided who got the lucky job of answering that question. As her duty entailed, Olivia took it.

~ 0 ~

Two visits in the same day, so close to each other, made Rafael feel ever so lucky. It would've been nice if this time 'round they'd brought him some actual trouble he could work with legally...but no. All they were doing right now was following him down the block back to the office.

"This was my lunch break you know," he said, not that anyone heard him. Well, he could see Montserrat smirking from the corner of his eyes. Sometimes, his blood really did boil...but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"We have checked every hospital in Manhattan. There is no sign of Briggs," Olivia was going on.

"But it's not kidnapping," Rafael said for the third time since the conversation started. "She's his wife. She has the right to take him out of the hospital."

"Even against medical advice?"

"Well—"

"Ripping hospital equipment out of the wall?"

"Want me to file a larceny charge on the IV pump?"

"Stop being a smart ass," Montserrat playfully rolled her eyes at him. "You know his daughter's got a court order to visit him? Charmaine's in violation."

"Has she denied them access?"

"They don't know where he is!"

"So no."

"C'mon Councilor, she's endangering her husband's life," Sonny tried his hand next. "The... the doctors made that clear."

"Yeah, plus the rape and assault charges are still under investigation," Olivia reminded.

"Barely…one of them's a stretch," Rafael scoffed. "And the other's a chasm."

At this point, Montserrat had to wonder to what extent his argumentative talents went to be able to shoot down all three of them in one go. She might be a little bit proud...but right now she was a bit irritated.

"This is a sick old man getting dragged across the city," Olivia tried once again.

"Well, we're not social workers!" Rafael exclaimed, quite exasperated. It wasn't like he was purposely taking their case down but in legal terms, there was nothing he could do.

"But we are cops, and we can keep investigating," Olivia said.

"Knock yourselves out."

"We will," Olivia said as a promise. She headed down the opposite direction, leaving her two detectives to follow.

"You're going to be paying for that one later," Montserrat lingered behind for a bit, though she kept sending cautious glances in Olivia's direction in case the Sergeant looked back. "And not by me…"

"Mm," Rafael glanced over his shoulder. "You people are testing me today."

"Oh," Montserrat feigned offence with a hand over her chest. "I will make sure to remember that the next time you want to, I don't know, lay a kiss on…" She tapped a finger over her lips.

Rafael rolled his eyes. As if she could maintain that threat. Without a word of warning, his hand struck forwards and yanked her close to him. He smiled smugly at her wide-eyed face. "We'll see about that."

Montserrat tried pulling away but he had a strong grip around her wrist. "Stop that! Liv could look back!"

"How are our dinner plans coming along, then?"

"Shut up — Rafael, this isn't funny! I'm going to kill you! Let go!"

"I was thinking Japanese again? Maybe Thai?"

"I'll be busy tonight considering I'll be on trial for murdering you!" Montserrat's eyes blazed with absolute anger. "Now let go of me!" He swiftly let her wrist go but to his amusement, she stayed right where she was...which was pretty close to him. "If I didn't like you so much, I'd seriously consider murdering you," she said sharply. His clean grin was more than infuriating. "I have to go," she shook her head.

"Go, go, I'll call you tonight."

"Not if you're single," she jabbed her finger on his chest.

"Right," he laughed.

She hurried off before he got any other ideas. Sometimes, he actually managed to be properly childish.

~ 0 ~

At the end of her shift, Montserrat hauled herself to her therapist's. It was a long overdue appointment that she wouldn't postpone. Dr. Weslin was ready to go as soon as Montserrat arrived and since there was a lot to go through, Montserrat started straight away. There was one specific thing she wanted to talk about after all.

"I have noticed there's more gaps in-between my, uh, moments," she said, just barely keeping the content from overpowering her. It just felt so surreal being able to say that out loud and mean it. There were times where the longest gap was only about a day. Now she could go months. "I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere, you know? I have no idea what that might be but just the fact that I'm aware that I am going somewhere...it's thrilling."

Weslin watched Montserrat carefully, keeping her comments to herself for the time being. She was expecting Montserrat to make a turn after everything.

"There was just one moment I had…"

There it was.

Because in her experience treating Montserrat, Dr. Weslin tended to notice that Montserrat would often start with the best things that happened to her and then she would shift entirely when she had to admit to something that didn't fit with her happy picture.

Montserrat slowed her shifty movements on the couch. Her gaze would no longer stick to Weslin; her eyes would flicker around the room like she usually did during her first visits. "I don't know if it's a sign that I'm somehow getting worse again, but—"

"Montserrat, it's okay, you have the floor to speak," Weslin had to cut her off or else they might never reach the point Montserrat was trying to make.

Montserrat nodded. She was biting her lower lip nervously. "There was a case that we had a few days ago. Two boys raped a girl. I was fine doing my job up until the trial." Weslin was looking directly at her, somehow making her even more nervous. It was ridiculous to feel that way. Weslin never judged her for anything and she had to get that through her head. "The case was nothing I haven't already seen but...there was one new thing." She swallowed hard. "One of the boys — ironically the one who didn't think he did anything wrong — was, um...his name was Daniel."

Weslin raised her head, blinking a few times out of genuine surprise. As soon as she caught herself, she set it aside and motioned Montserrat to continue.

"Of course I should have realized that this would happen at some point but I just didn't and I...I was caught off guard," the detective started picking at her nails without even realizing it. Weslin silently eyed the motion. "When he was up on the stand, testifying that he didn't do anything wrong. It was a whirlwind of emotions, honestly. I was so incredibly satisfied to see the ADA destroy him on the stand…"

Weslin took note of the new rage that filled Montserrat's words, as well as the new force she was using to pick at her nails. She knew that the detective wasn't even aware that she was close to bringing out blood from her skin.

"He had that coming, I knew it, and I felt it. It was a dark satisfaction," Montserrat finally willed herself to meet Weslin's gaze. "Is that bad? To-to feel that type of satisfaction?"

"It's the retribution you think you ought to have," Weslin said, strategically and wisely avoiding a straightforward answer to the question. It had no real answer, but that wouldn't make Montserrat feel any better.

"But that's the thing, I still don't know what the hell I want," Montserrat admitted, heaving a heavy sigh. "I was talking to Rafael about this and-and he told me that he had looked into my file. I went crazy, Dr. Weslin."

"You were upset that he looked?"

"I felt weak in front of him," Montserrat said quietly. "Exposed. He went through the most horrific part of my life. He knows everything — well, almost — and I just couldn't handle that at that moment. I had a sort of anxiety attack. And when he helped calm me, we talked. I admitted that I was sure Daniel ordered the sniper in retaliation for, um, the drive-by shooting incident. Rafael wanted me to do something about it, talk to someone at the precinct, and I freaked. I realized that I was still unsure of what I wanted."

"Entirely?" Weslin challenged.

Montserrat pulled her hands apart from each other, giving her picked-at-skin a decent rest. "Well...maybe? I don't know. I can say that I would like to one day see Daniel pay for what he did to me. I know that I deserve to see my justice but right now I can't see it happening. I don't want it. It completely terrifies me that someone else might find out what happened to me."

Weslin nodded with her. "As I have said before, the road to recovery is a long one and there is no deadline here. But I would like to commend you because it seems like with time, your thoughts about the matter are changing. As always, I'm going to remind you that it's normal to have setbacks. It's normal to feel the exposure and weakness as if it was still that first day. What's important is how you overcome them each time it happens and it seems like you're doing a very good job with that."

Montserrat smiled lightly. "Yeah," she felt a warmth blossoming over her chest knowing that she was saying the truth. She had gotten much better overcoming her moments. Time was, she would shut herself down and stay like that for days...but not anymore.

"There is only one question I'd like to ask, and of course you don't have to answer…" Weslin trailed off until Montserrat gave her the permission to keep going. "We both know that there is still an important fragment of this case that you have not revealed to anyone. That hasn't become a problem to you throughout all these new things, right?"

Montserrat swallowed hard. "Like…?"

"Your relationship, for starters. By the things you've been telling me, it seems to be getting serious."

"Right…"

Weslin lifted an eyebrow at the detective, expecting some type of answer to her question.

"No," Montserrat ultimately said. "I-I don't think I ever will. That's one part that I'm...I'm sure I've done right. I don't say anything not for me, but...for them. I see no logical reason to ever bring that part to light."

~ 0 ~

On her way out of Weslin's office, Montserrat thought to text Rafael just to make sure he knew that he was still paying for the happenings earlier.

'Are you enjoying your dinner alone?' She texted quickly and easily. She waited for the buzz of his response until she got home. She didn't think it odd considering the workload he often had in the nights but still, she decided to give him a quick call. Maybe they could work something out for the next night.

She called twice and there was no answer. She was just coming into her bedroom when her phone vibrated with his text.

'Sorry, can't talk. Grandmother's in the hospital.'

Montserrat nearly crashed into her bed with that text. "What!?" She screeched and quickly texted back.

'What happened to her? Is she alright? Do you need me there?'

The fact that she was basically offering to expose herself to her family never even crossed her mind at that moment.

'Thank you but don't worry. I'll call later, promise. Sleep well.'

How was she supposed to sleep knowing that he wasn't? Her heart ached and suddenly, she didn't care about meeting his family. She should be at his side, helping him...but she couldn't surprise him like that. His mind must already be frantic enough without her adding unnecessary stress. She'd have to wait for his call.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 45 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Wren Ridley

Landon hadn't told me much about his upbringing but it didn't take a genius to figure out that it wasn't good.

I had already decided that Landon's father was an evil man and should be punished eternally in hell for whatever he did to him.

"He's good at faking," Landon said.

"He can keep up appearances but at home, it was a different story. He made me work so hard because he had a dream for me. He wanted to live vicariously through me, so I had to be exactly as he wanted. His perfect Christian son."

"So, what is it, he couldn't achieve what he wanted with his life, so he had you to do it for him?" I asked.

It seemed like a case of a father whose dreams were shattered so he expected his son to realize them for him, even if they didn't share the same dream.

It was like he viewed Landon as an extension of him rather than as his own person.

"Pretty much," Landon responded.

"I had to play hockey. It was never my choice. Olivia has to figure skate because that's what our parents did. We were basically born just to be younger versions of them, to live so that they could relive their glory days."

It made me angry on behalf of him to hear him say that.

It was like so much of his youth was stolen from him because his father wanted him to be his puppet instead of his child.

"My dad controlled everything," Landon continued.

"He obsessively controlled my diet. He barely let me hang out with my friends. He made me work out so hard that I threw up. My mom controls Olivia like that. In a different way but still."

"Then why would you want to face him on your own?"

"Because I'm... I'm embarrassed, Wren," Landon admitted, tightening his hold on me.

"My father wants me dead or he wishes I was never born. I have no idea what he would say or do if we saw him but I do know that I don't want you to see that."

I physically recoiled at the thought of Landon's father wanting him dead because now I was at the point where I couldn't imagine a world without him.

"He said that?" I asked.

"Apparently," Landon said, a humorless chuckle falling from his lips.

"I ran into one of my old teammates while we were skating and he told me that my father tells people that I'm dead. It kind of checks out since he wishes that was true."

That was probably why he had been acting weird.

He had been dealing with that on his own.

Seeing an old teammate, getting told his own father wants him dead, it had to take a toll on him.

"My father hates me because I'm not exactly as he wanted me to be," Landon continued.

"He basically forced me to come out to him. He already knew I was gay, he knew it for a long time, but eventually he just made me say it to his face, so I did. And then he stood up at church and told everyone that he needed help for his gay son because he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't care that everyone I went to school with was there and he didn't care about what being outed could do to me. He wanted me to be hurt, to be forced into being straight. So he was going to send me off to conversion therapy with Elijah and his stepdad. I think he knew it wouldn't do anything. He just wanted to get rid of me."

I started to feel sick at the thought of Landon being treated that way, the thought of him being scared of what would happen to him, of him being sad and alone and humiliated.

I wished I could go back in time and protect him from that, to go back and pull him out of that church, to hold him close to me and bring him home.

If only things could have been different, if I could have met him sooner.

"Your father is a cold hearted man who doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you," I told him in a low voice.

"If he sees you at Olivia's competition, he should know to keep walking because he doesn't deserve to even speak to you."

The two of us had accepted that if we went to this competition, we would see this man.

It was just how the universe worked.

The one person you didn't want to see would always show up.

"I still hear his voice sometimes in my head," Landon admitted after a few moments, his hand stroking my side lightly.

"Therapy has helped a lot with that but sometimes I can't block him out. I hear him calling me disgusting and worthless. Sometimes I believe him."

I grabbed onto Landon's hand and squeezed it tightly in my own as if I could take all his pain away through touch alone.

"You are neither of those things, darling," I murmured, kissing his collarbone then up to his neck and jaw.

"You are so wonderful it's nauseating but not at all disgusting."

Landon gave me a real laugh at that and I smiled against his skin.

"You should have told me about the old teammate when it happened," I told him, making circles on his chest with my finger.

"I didn't want to ruin our date," he said.

"I was trying to keep my cool about it and I didn't want you doing anything insane."

"Insane like what?"

"Like letting a bunch of bugs loose in his house or something."

"Well, I wouldn't reuse my ideas like that," I said, which caused him to let out an adorable snort.

"I would have had to figure something else out."

"Something even more insane?" he asked.

"It would depend on what he did," I replied.

Landon shook his head at me.

"You're crazy."

"Yes, yes I know," I said.

"You've used that one before. Same with infuriating."

"I don't have as big of a vocabulary as you do."

I chuckled at that and closed my eyes, cosying up against him.

My rest didn't last long because Landon eventually had to go change the laundry over and when he got up, I no longer wanted to lie down.

I grabbed my book that was laying on the nightstand and opened up the page the bookmark Landon had gotten for me was holding.

Usually, I would just remember the page I was on without a problem but I liked that this came from him.

I liked how thoughtful it was and how it would always remind me of him whenever I saw it.

Landon came back to the room after switching over the laundry and got back into bed with me, leaning his head on my shoulder as I read as if he was reading the words with me.

I knew that he wasn't but it still felt like we were doing this together.

After all that he said today, I somehow felt closer to him, like I could understand him better than before but I always felt that I was understanding him more and more all the time.

It was like any time he spoke I felt even closer to him.

I tried not to let that scare me but it did anyway.

[blondrichclosetwitch]

There’s more to the picture than meets the eye

I was told that today i was to write “personally”. So this is a story about Tracy.

The first time I remember getting information from the Tracy picture was 2/9/17, which interestingly enough was a 21/03. The World card. Everything coming together. The World is your oyster, so to speak.

Most of the time Tracy’s picture hangs in the exact spot where it always has been; in the middle of the East wall. I haven’t gotten there yet in the tapes, as the spirits tell me when they want me to advance, or when i’m to let the information settle. This is partially for my benefit, as it’s always a lot to relive each day, but also for dramatic effect. If you don’t know already, spirits are always more clever, funny, and dramatic than their human counterparts. And also if you didn’t know, this is their show.

(But you know who the star is by now. It’s not me. )

I don’t want to spoil the coming attractions, but let’s bring in some details:

She didn’t get named Tracy til the anniversary of her death, 8 months later, which from what i understand was the first time i ever heard any picture of Katie giving me instructions. I have videos talking about this to a friend; my curiosity as to why these pictures were telling me they had nicknames: Stella, Tracy, Elana, Hermione.

And Tracy was very clearly telling me that I needed to go into the hospital to cut off the connection. I remember her telling me very seriously and then calling my analyst and telling her i’d go in.

I think of Tracy as the oldest. Her hair is the longest; it was right before she donated 12 inches of her hair to kids with cancer. That’s the kind of person she was at 9.

In my photos on my phone, it shows up at 2/8/17 at 10:16 am, sent to staples to print out at 10:45 am. 16: The Tower, 45: the five of cups, for those who follow that kind of stuff.

They want me to write. They’re trying to support me doing more and more every day...somehow finding more way to breathe, leave the house, apply for jobs, make phone calls, write plays. Re-enter the world.

Trust in what you can’t see. Let the artist who has always been locked inside have some time out every day.

This is where katie and i were the same, and probably the biggest gift of her death was the way she made me sing and dance and put on shows every day, just like we each did as kids. And i’m not singing as much as i did, because this number thing is taking so much time and focus and even expansion. Understanding that there is so much waiting for you to see it.

I don’t know what to say about my brain and nervous system,except they’re kinda shot, and i’m doing my best to take each day one day at a time, and remember to get outside.

And this is an important date for us. And it shoulnt be a surprise that i have to ....well, that listening to each of these has it’s intense moments. But it’s like looking at a past-life: by diving in the past-life retrieval, and seeing what you see, it helps release it also.

So we’re going slowly at this, because there’s alot ot see, and at the same time, people are dying. A girl named mina was murdered by a pack of dogs 2 days ago. I Knew her. I’m lost about what to do about it; it’s a lot for me. My hands are full with spirits. But i can’t turn them away~~I have to at least listen.

I really need a vacation.

We are getting ready to go public. That is to say, changing mediums.

I asked Tracy, the picture that was used to tell me that fakekatie was having a lolita moment, what she wanted to say. Allow me to interject she is a double fire; she’s become a bit more to handle lately. And if i love to perform, she might love it even more. So often in my visuals, it seems like she’s always performing. But I asked, what did she want me to do as a post since it was sort of her “mark”.

The first thing she made me do was light a candle, and wheni asked her what she wanted written on it, she said “make the truth known”. It was a manifest a miracle candle.

She says she wants you to know about the picture used. She’s wearing a blue sleeveless shirt with birds on it. She’s standing in front of the tv, and she has her right arm up in the air, like she’s a broadway dancer. Her left hand is bent with a sort of L-shaped jazz hand. Like i said, her hair is so long. Her knee is bent and she’s wearing jean shorts.

She says she doesn’t like what’s coming. She says it’s gonna be hard, but that it’s important.

Addendum: she wants me to add that there’s 2 magnets with a piece of paper secured so that it looks like she’s holding it in her outstretched hand that says oh that’s a good one God. She’s been holding it there for 6 months or so.

Rereading this the next day as the day starts, I realized I didn’t mention the look on her face, which is probably the most impt part. I wish you could see it. I never looked like that as a kid. She’s kind of glowing with..I don’t know, strength/joy/I am/ watch me now I am on fire ~~she knew she was born to perform and it transformed her.

[reinemichele]

Okay I started to type this out on this post but I don't think OP would want to hear about all that (which honestly applies to every story in my family) and I had already decided Not to talk about black lung on their post (but yes a lot of men on my mom's side of the family died of black lung <3)

Anyway . Uhhh I'm not sure how many details I should include, I don't want this to get too long... I can talk more about my dad's parents in a different post later on, but it's not really relevant right now.

So, when my dad was 17 and my mom was 15, they were out walking and saw someone getting mugged. My dad tried to help the guy, who was able to get away, but the mugger stabbed my dad in the spine with a knife <3

My dad was in ICU for over a month and was told he'd never walk again. Neither of his parents came to visit, but when my dad started getting disability paychecks, my dad's dad cashed them <3 "so that this can be your rent" <3 (And then had the nerve to, years later, ask my parents why they didn't tell him that they were having a baby 😀 [Name] if you weren't already fucking dead, when I get you--)

The food at the hospital was awful, so every day my mom would get my dad food from del taco and take it to him. It was a 45 minute drive to the hospital and then several floors up to the ICU.

This is where it gets relevant lol so . my mom, obviously, comes from the same lineage I do, and has also always been terrified of elevators. So she'd walk up several flights of stairs, every day, for over a month. Sometimes hospital staff would ask her if the elevators weren't working, and then she'd have to be like . no but they scare me 😥

Anyway, if you're curious, my dad did end up walking again. Doctors said it was a miracle. He lost sensation in part of one of his legs, so he had to be careful about where it was/what it was touching, like the surface of a really hot car, etc. But he did survive a life-threatening spinal wound and managed to avoid becoming permanently paralyzed.

My mom always says that he used up too many of his 9 lives early in life (IE when he was a baby he had a really high fever that no one thought he'd survive, but all it did was eliminate 80% of his hearing in one ear) and that's why he died at 41 (car accident). But that's really neither here nor there; I just wanted to talk about how... funny, but only funny in the sense of "yeah, I'm mentally ill in that exact same way, too" not "haha what a loser wimp baby", how funny it is that my mom opted to walk up several flights of stairs every single day instead of using the elevator a single time. And how funny (in a sad way) it is that you can trace our fear of tight spaces back to a family of coal miners.

[briamichellewrites]

45

Bria was spending the day with Kevin and Kristin. The Backstreet Boys were getting ready to go on tour. It was one of the first without him. He missed it. Then again, he didn’t. He needed a break to pursue other interests, like acting. Even though he and Kristin were legally divorced, they came together for Bria. He had started the process of adopting a baby boy named, Mason. Everyone fully supported him in being a single father.

Mike had left earlier that morning. He got her up and he fed her breakfast through her tube. It was connected to her wheelchair, so she could move around. He didn’t want to leave, but he had to. She understood why but it didn’t make it any easier. If he could clone himself, he would. Just so he could be in two places at once but he couldn’t. That was the problem.

He kissed her and told her he loved her. I love you too. It was only ten minutes before Kevin and Kristin came over that she was by herself. She zoomed around the house. They found her in the living room. She said hello to them. He had her stop, so he could check her tube. It was almost empty. They went back to the kitchen. The cats were doing whatever they wanted. They had been fed, so they were just hanging out. It was just another lazy day for them.

Once the tube was empty, he took it to be cleaned. Her new machine could play music. What was she going to play? Brad helped her set up a playlist of songs she liked to listen to. It was a mix of country, Linkin Park, and the Backstreet Boys. They watched her go to the playlist and hit shuffle with her eyes. I’m Already There by Lonestar.

They thought it was the perfect song to listen to. It told the story of a guy calling home while being on the road. It reminded Kevin of what it was like to be gone for months at a time. He went all over the world and met a lot of people. Still, it was very hard. It was the same thing for Mike. For the first time, he was leaving behind a wife. Not only that but a wife with medical problems. What if something happened to her and he couldn’t be there?

He would have to put on a show for the fans. A show that didn’t involve music. He had his phone with him at all times. Just in case. The band was sympathetic to him. They had no idea what he was going through as a husband. Her health was so uncertain, it was difficult to know what would happen day by day. She didn’t even have a diagnosis. That was the most frustrating part.

If they had a diagnosis, they would know what to expect. But, they didn’t. She was going to try to visit them at their show in LA but it just depended on how she was feeling. They would not be offended if she couldn’t be there. If she wasn’t doing well, they would want her to rest.

She went around the living room as the Backstreet Boys played. They laughed as they watched her. As Long As You Love Me. If she could, she would be singing along. Instead, she was moving her wheelchair around. Was she dancing? Her face lit up like a Christmas tree in happiness, making them laugh again. The cats jumped out of her way. When the song was over, she came back over to them.

“Next song”, her machine said.

“What’s the next song”, Kristin asked.

She went back to her playlist. Country. After an hour, she had tired herself out. That was fun. They could tell she was having fun. She had a case of the Zoomies. That’s what Mike called it. It was always entertaining to watch. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it. Sometimes, it was the best part of the day. It made him not think about his stress and have a moment of fun.

Elisa was coming over to spend the night with her after she was done with work. Brad and Mike trained her in how her monitors worked, what to do if they went off, how to use her feeding tube, and how to get her ready for bed. If she wanted to, she could ask if she wanted her to bathe her. She might say no because of modesty but it was always worth asking. If she said no, that was fine. She could wait until Mara or Abbie was there.

“What is that called when you go around the house”, he asked.

“Mike calls it the Zoomies. He thinks it’s very entertaining.”

“The Zoomies. That makes sense.”

“I have ADHD and that is the only way I can get my energy out. It’s very fun.”

“Do you ever get dizzy from going around”, Kristin asked.

“No. Everyone thinks I do but I don’t. It just tires me out.”

They let her rest. When she became tired, they helped her into bed, so she could take a nap. Kevin hooked her up to her medical equipment as they had been shown. They would be there when she woke up. After walking out, they quietly closed the door behind them. Her medical equipment beeped as it took her heart rate and brain activity.

The house was quiet. The cats came over to say hello and seek attention. They had fun petting and playing with them. Bria and Mike took great care of them. Kristin wondered what Bria was like before the accident. She heard stories about how much she had changed. Part of her wishes she could have met her. While in the hospital, she apologized to her for having an affair with her husband. She appreciated the apology. It made her realize that while she wasn’t innocent.

She chose to sleep with a married man, but she didn’t do it just to get money from him. There was genuine sincerity in her apology. It helped her forgive her. She was happy she had because she was an incredible person. Despite her circumstances, she managed to maintain a sense of humor and a positive attitude. That inspired her when she felt overwhelmed.

If Bria can do it, I can do it. Not everyone agreed with her choice to forgive and form a friendship with her husband’s mistress. That was fine. They didn’t have to understand or agree. She saw her on television giving her interview to ABC News with her family. They did a great job showing who she was. Nothing was fake or disingenuous about her. She didn’t know she had lost her parents before the age of eighteen. They couldn’t imagine what that was like.

“Do you ever get angry or frustrated?”

“I do. I have emotions just like everyone else. I get frustrated when I think back to what I was like before the accident. I also get frustrated when I am unable to do the things I used to. I was very independent and I could go wherever I wanted. It was hard to lose that. I also get frustrated when I have a seizure. I try not to dwell on it because then I drag myself down. I would rather be happy than miserable because melancholy gets you nowhere.”

“I think melancholy is different than frustration”, Mike said.

“Apples and avocados, Michael.”

They laughed. Yes, that was who she was. She was the type of person who looked on the bright side of life. Despite everything, she didn’t want people to treat her any differently because she wasn’t better or worse than anyone else. She just had different abilities. After an hour, Kevin went to check on her. She was still asleep, so he checked her monitors. They were both working properly, so he walked out and closed the door behind him.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[thesexaddictdiaries]

Day 8: Should of…

We all say it… “I should of done this or that” “I should of married that person” but unfortunately this saying is all to familiar. I had that same thought in 2003.. not only was I still talking to the woman in Ohio but I was falling more and more head over feet for her, I remember thinking “I should of NOT gotten married” I quickly realized that I had made a dire mistake.. one that I could t just reverse without consequences that I wasn’t ready to accept (but should have at the time). Rather than be miserable I plunged blindly into a world of adultry and sex… constantly looking for opportunities to find someone else to “feel”’something with… I remember many situations but the one that comes to mind at this point in this story is an all to familiar situation… the work fling lol… she was a director where I worked and I worked in another dept, she constantly flirted with me and one day before the wife got home I invited her over… nervous since I hadn’t actually “done” this type of thing since I’d been married so was quite unsure how it would go.. it was winter time and our current house happen to have a hot tub in the deck in the back… it was perfect.. she had been at the house a awhile and we’d just hung out and watched some tv and talked… it started to snow.. she had walked over to the window and looked out at the back deck as the snow was falling… I hadn’t told her we had a hot tub but she saw it and turned and smiled.. she looked straight at me and said “do you ever go in the hot tub when it’s snowing”? I replied “ once or twice “ she smiled again and this type with a somewhat mysterious smirk “I wanna try it” she asked for a towel and when I came back to the room she was just taking her shirt off, her double D’s filled up her Victoria’s Secret pink bra overflowing… she smiled and said why don’t you come help me get this off.. her pink g string was already in a pile on the floor.. I moved in close and with one hand reached around and unsnapped her bra… her tits let loose like cannons! She moved in closer took off my shirt and slipped off my pants… I expected something that day so didn’t wear any boxers… my cock had already started to throb when I saw her in the sexy bra… she smiled at me and knelt down and said “I won’t tell if you don’t” she slipped my erect head in to her and began sucking me off, I could feel the insane pulsing and didn’t want to cum before I’d tasted her and felt her smooth pussy grind against me. I said in between the heavy breathing “we should get in the tub” so we walked out on the deck and stepped in the hot water the steam was so much and I could smell her perfume permeating the air and she brushed up next to me.. I leaned up against the wall of the hot tub.. she moved closer stood up and said “now it’s your turn to show me what you can do” she put her arms around me and settled back into the water with her legs around me, my cock found it’s way to slide inside her soaking wet pussy.. she moaned and smiled … as she grinned against my thick hard cock she was kissing my neck and I licking her huge hard nipples… (she was somewhat loud so had to quiet her down a bit) she rode me for at least 45 min rocking back and forth, cumming at least half a dozen times … she whispered in my ear so you have something for me? She started fucking me harder and I couldn’t hold on, she arched het back and moaned… I began to cum and shot at least three loads deep in her… she looked at me after we had settled and said “damn I knew there was something to you I liked”. Now it was getting late and my wife would be home.. so no time for pillow talk or chit chat… she grabbed her things and headed out… I had a feeling over couple tranquility the rest of the evening… unfortunately I never had the pleasure of her again but there would be others for sure.

[carolap53]

December 28, 2022

When Family Gets Messy SHARON JAYNES

Lee en español

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

Growing up, my family was one big mess. Fighting. Arguing. Yelling. Crying. And eventually, a lot of forgiving.

During the early years, especially before we knew Jesus, it seemed like the holidays were always the worst.

If ever there is a place to learn about forgiveness … to practice forgiveness … to struggle with forgiveness … it is in the family. And interestingly, it is in the context of family where the word “forgive” first shows up in the Bible.

In the book of Genesis, we meet a young man named Joseph — the 11th of 12 brothers and the favorite son of Jacob. In Genesis 37, young Joseph had several prophetic dreams involving his brothers and father one day bowing down to him. Rather than keep that bit of information to himself, it seems perhaps immaturity loosened his lips, and he shared it with his already jealous siblings. When he was 17, his brothers had had enough of Joseph, who they saw as a rather bratty brother.

So one day, when Joseph went out to the fields to check on them, they schemed to throw him in a well, shred his fancy coat and tell Jacob his favorite son had been killed by a wild animal. Just after they had tossed him in the pit, a Midianite caravan came passing by. Then the brothers hatched another plan; rather than leave Joseph to die, they sold him into slavery and pocketed a bit of money in the process.

Joseph served as a slave in the home of a high-ranking Egyptian official named Potiphar. Genesis 39 tells us that, while there, Joseph was falsely accused of sexually assaulting Potiphar’s wife and thrown into prison. (Talk about having a bad day!)

During his prison stay, he interpreted dreams for some of his fellow inmates. One day the Pharaoh of Egypt had a disturbing dream no one could interpret. Pharaoh’s cupbearer, who had been in prison with Joseph, told Pharaoh about Joseph’s gift of interpretation.

Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dream and predicted seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine in the land. Pharaoh was so enamored with Joseph’s God-given wisdom that he appointed Joseph governor of Egypt, second only to Pharaoh himself. (Genesis 40-41)

During the famine, who showed up in Egypt, looking for food? Joseph’s conniving brothers! They were terrified when the governor revealed, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt” (Genesis 45:4c, ESV). Don’t you know they were terrified? What would Joseph do?

What would you have done?

This was Joseph’s response to the injustice inflicted by his brothers: “And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you” (Genesis 45:5, NIV). Later, he said, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:20).

Joseph did not say, “Oh, that’s OK. Don’t worry about it.” No, he called the betrayal what it was — evil against him that resulted in 13 years of slavery. At the same time, he chose to forgive the wrong done to him and allowed God’s grace to flow through him. He opened the door for reconciliation and entrusted to God the matter of justice.

When we passed forgiveness around the table in the serving dish of grace at my home, we weren't saying that what had gone on in our family was right or that it didn’t matter. We were saying yes, it was wrong, it did matter, and now we were choosing to let it go.

Joseph’s forgiveness ends Genesis, the first book of the Bible. We close out the epic narrative with a portrait of forgiveness that continues throughout the entire Bible, and it all begins with a very mixed-up family. That gives me great comfort; I hope it does for you.

Why? Because forgiveness prevents us from getting stuck in the bad parts of our stories and opens a door for a new ending.

Heavenly Father, family is so messy. We hurt each other and love each other, sometimes at the same time. Help me to forgive quickly. Help me to focus on following You better and not becoming bitter. Help me to trust in Your sovereignty in every situation. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

[personalispoliticalfem]

Blink twice if you've ever been to a bar.

Bartending is a form of art. Whether its a fun night out with your friends or a brewery for a beer flight to satisfy your taste buds, the bartenders will always be there for you.

As a female-identified bartender who has been bartending for two years, I was curious to hear other people's experiences. In my short amount of time bartending, I already had multiple stories lined up for the golden question, "What's the craziest bartending story you have?". All the crazy stories and things that have been said to me always lead up to one thing, my gender. Being a female bartender isn't as easy as it seems. I've had people tell me, "You must get tipped so much being a girl behind the bar", which in some cases is true, but it always comes with a price. 

When I started bartending my dad asked me why. I just moved into a new house with some roommates and had bills to pay, and I heard the money was good. He didn't go against it, but he was concerned. I asked him why, and he said because of my safety. I thought to myself, it's just a job? He told me that guests wait for the bartenders to leave late at night to "try and talk to them", I thought that it was weird that I had to think about it, and later on realizing that he was right; he should be concerned about my safety. Women should not feel as if they are in danger at work. Luckily, when we bartend we have the bar between us to protect us. Safety is one of the costs we have to pay as women bartenders.

In the survey I conducted, I gathered data from 45 bartenders and 53 bar-goers. I asked questions such as what gender they identify as (female, male, non-binary), how often they go out and so on, along with extended questions stating their experience. 

Let's start with the bar-goers... 

As you can see, it is a very close percentage between males and females, 47.2% being males and 49.1% being females, with 1.9% classifying as non-binary and other.

In the next chart I asked how often you go to bars.

This chart is more varied than the last. 

Next, I asked what gender they see the most behind the bar.

The tables have started to turn. Behind the bar, people see about 55% of bartenders are women, 37.7% of bartenders are men, and 7.5% of bartenders are non-binary. 

Now, lets turn the page to the bartenders.

I gathered bartenders for this survey in a few different ways. I reached out to my coworkers, my friend's coworkers, social media, and a group I found on Facebook. I wanted the survey to be done as vaguely as possible. These were the results...

For their gender, they identify as...

Out of the 45 bartenders who took this survey, 73.3% are women, 22.2% are men, and 4.4% are non-binary.

How often they go to bars remains almost the same as the average bar-goer...

33.3% of bartenders attend a bar once in a while, 35.6% once a week, 26.7% once or twice a week, and 4.4% for more than those options are given.

Out of the 45 people who did the survey, this is the percentage of those who are still bartenders.

After I asked these simple questions I went more into detail to really hear other peoples experiences to see if they were the same as mine. Since about 73% are women, what I experience along with them is the same thing, some stories worse. 

In the survey, I asked why people bartend. There is so surprise that most of the responses were for financial reasons. Good, fast money. Other responses were because they like being social and meeting people, and for the mixology.

Bartending is a fun gig. Mixology, socializing, money. Bartending is a passion, an art. There are so many great things about it. Unfortunately, like I said earlier, everything comes with a price. 

One of the questions I asked in the survey was if your gender identity influenced how you got treated my customers. These are some anonymous responses I received. 

"Often I am treated as an object rather than a person"

"Yes. Very sexualized all the time"

"As a woman, men seem to take any obligatory kindness that is inherent in any job position as flirtatious behavior. As a bartender specifically I felt very objectified as the job itself requires bartenders to entertain guests to keep them coming and buying more drinks. It's a performance that male associates can do without worry, but as a woman I was constantly attempting to be kind and fun out of work obligation, but also attempting to be strategic with it so as to not get unnecessarily hit on."

"I feel that as women our appearance has an influence on how much money we make in this industry, and of course the kind of conversation we have with customers."

"People (men) feel like they can touch you (arms, back etc)"

""Men definitely have been doubtful of my abilities as a female bartender. Many people don’t expect a young, small, female like myself to stick up for themselves and have tried to walk over me."

"Sexualized by men but seen as a comfort to women"

"I noticed I get treated in a different way than my male colleagues, generally with less respect and more sexual harassment."

"Constantly flirted with usually harmless but sometimes to the point of having to get aggressive or kick a patron out"

"Extremely, especially with older white men, I felt I was constantly preyed on and harassed but it was just "part of the job""

"Unnecessary and unwanted sexual advances and comments"

"People expect women to be more personable or give in to their advances so when you turn them down or aren’t as bubbly they tend to perceive it as bad service or get personably upset and tip you less or not at all and give you a harder time"

"As a pansexual male who paints his nails, I notice that Women whether they’re gay/straight I am encouraged and I am praised for being who I am, while specific “straight” males sometimes give me an attitude or cut the conversation to a very minimal one, and keep it strictly about business (their drink)."

These are only some responses from the survey that helps prove the point that I have been leading up to this whole time. Women are constantly sexualized behind the bar. When you go to work, do you want to be sexualized simply for doing your job? People have stated that they feel as if they're treated by objects, but it's "part of the job", does it have to be part of the job? I shouldn't have to feel sexualized for simply serving drinks, doing my job, and making money. 

The next question I asked was for them to describe a situation where their gender identity has affected their job. Some stories are surprising, some are not.

"Often I work with at least one other bartender, usually a male and customers will tell me they are fine and then ask him to make their drinks Instead. Or they will act like they can get free stuff with me or take advantage bc I am not only a women, but significantly smaller than most people I work with/ serve"

"I have gotten hired over people due to my looks and gender"

"I had a customer tell me I had no idea about a whiskey because whiskey is for men."

"They always seemed to ask men to do anything involving physical work and sent women to do things involving customer service"

"I will get comments on my breast size. My general appearance will get commented on immediately"

"During one summer, my job was to stay outside for the day and communicate with customers and bring drinks in to refill since it was during the height of the pandemic and customers were not allowed outside. Many of the men who were there alone spoke with me the longest and I had one man in particular who hardly let me leave to continue doing my job. He tipped me specifically $20, which was nice but I also understood the connotations of that, especially since he asked for my schedule so he could come back just to speak with me. I very much doubt that this situation would happen if I were a man."

"I worked at a stadium and a guy purchased a drink from me. The whole time I made his drink, he was asking me what I do in my free time etc. I hand him his drink and he tells me that I’m cute and wants to take me on a date that weekend. I tell him I have a boyfriend and he proceeds to tell me “I’m better than him, I make more money than him, what do I need to do to steal you away from him” I told him I’m good and to have a nice night. He refused to leave. A few minutes later coworkers seen that he wasn’t leaving and came to ask me to help them with something. He leaves but continually looks back as he was walking away. I looked at his transaction and he didn’t even tip me for his $20 drink. We were closing up 2 hours later and he comes back asking for my number. My coworkers told him to leave and they walked me to my car to ensure I was safe."

"Some men treat female bartenders a certain way. In a disrespectful or demeaning manor. It’s a shame when I say you just get used to it but you do. It doesn’t even phase me anymore. It’s “part of the job.” In the end I make enough to not care."

"I’ve been physically grabbed and propositioned more than a handful of times. Keep in mind I work at a restaurant that closes before midnight"

"I’m a women so it has never not affected my job."

"I had a male customer harassment me because I was not interested in him (I’m lesbian) to the point of having to call security. I’ve had men tell me on multiple occasions that they can turn me and I just need a good dicking."

"I was told I was not allowed to be the closing bartender bc "women bartenders cannot close because it's not safe.""

"A customer told me he would give me a $50 tip, said not to share it with the other bartender working, and told me to come find him on the parking lot before I left to get it"

"I was bartending AND cocktail serving for a private event with the Boxing Hall of Fame. I was working a room of dozens of filthy rich and famous athletes and their families so I had high hopes to make good money. One of the most prestigious of the highlighted guests (I'll leave his name out unless you want it lol) requested a type of champagne that we didn't carry at the restaurant. After I made replacement suggestions he proceeded to request a manager and demand a new bartender that would "actually work hard to deliver what's ordered." When I argued that I was literally the only staff and couldn't make expensive champagne appear out of thin air he began to rant about how "he should have known a female bartender wouldn't deliver" and "if i can't pour one drink, how will I ever find a husband" etc etc. It was so gross. I called in a male coworker to come help me finish the event which pissed me off. The dude's wife actually came over to me and gave me a big tip and apologized for her husband and his other Hall of Fame assholes. On the other hand though, that same night Nino Benvenuti only ordered cranberry juice all night and still tipped me $100 because "I'd be a great housewife" HAHAHAHA he was really nice and drank an absurd amount of cran"

"I would do most of the work and have a female bartender just close people out to make more money. I always felt like I had to work 5 times harder to make the same amount."

"One time a man asked me “Why do you do that?” i said “what?” he replies with “that, with your nails?” i replied with “why not?” and he continues “with i don’t understand people of this generation” I replied with “is it that you can’t understand us? or is that you don’t want to?” then i saw the anger in his face, as if he was offended by my question. But immediately after his younger friend “says don’t worry about him he’s not as ‘woke’ “ then i left to go get his next beer."

Being sexualized in the bartending world goes both ways. Although it happens to most women that does not mean it can't happen to men as well. Sometimes, bartending affects men financially. Like the one anonymous states, "I would do most of the work and have a female bartender just close people out to make more money. I always felt like I had to work 5 times harder to make the same amount." Your gender should not affect how much you make at a job. You should be based on the product you bring to the table (the drink) and being able to do your job.

In this study I have learned one thing for sure, I am not alone. One thing that I want to learn more about is how we stop being sexualized at work. Being sexualized shouldn't be "part of the job". The "part of the job" shouldn't be an excuse for us to get sexualized when at work. In the article When Customers Hit on the Bartenders by Marcia Simmons, she states "A study by restaurant industry group ROC said that 78 percent of servers and bartenders surveyed were harassed by customers. Nearly two-thirds said they ignore sexually harassing behaviors, often for fear of looking harsh in front of other customers or losing tips." The financial aspect of having our paychecks depending on being sexualized. "Whether it’s innocent flirting, full-on harassment or something in between, bartenders are likely to spend time at work dealing with inappropriate behavior. Working behind the bar means your relationship status, clothing choices and appearance are all up for scrutiny and comment by customers."" Everything you do behind the bar is observed by customers. What we wear, how we do our makeup, how we act, how we laugh, and how we move is all being watched by the people sitting at the bar. 

Bartending affects both genders. It affects women daily, being sexualized, and feel unsafe in the workplace. Having men behind the bar to "ensure their safety" when they should not be in danger in the first place. There have been times when I walk behind the bar to start a shift and I imminently feel like all the people who were sitting at the bar prior to me arriving are staring at me. Some men look like they are going to eat me. As my job, I have to take care of them, so if there is a male bartender behind the bar I will ask them to help me take care of them. Guests have crossed the line with some of the things that have been said to me, but I guess it's "part of the job". It affects men financially, to the point where they make women take guests and instead clean/do service bar because they think we'll make them more money. Men can also be put in the situation of feeling uncomfortable by women while at work. 

I am tired of using the excuse that it's part of the job, it's not a valid excuse anymore. I want to be able to bartend without feeling like my safety is at risk. The next question is, how do we make bartending a more comfortable job? How do we spread awareness for the safety of our bartenders? Is it possible to help people realize that you should not sexualize your bartenders? It is up to us as bartenders to find a solution to stopping sexualization in the workplace, and up to society to help us demolish the act of sexualization.

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