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#sorry i'm being so dramatic because the entire way i view the world has shifted rn
aromacaque · 1 year
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no why the fuck are all these foods labelled as "bland" no wonder i can't stand seasoning on shit jesus fucking christ
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rainbowsky · 2 years
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Hi, I was the one talking about leaving your blog due to ysl incident. I'm not anyone's only fan, why you grouped me together with solos 😂I was talking from a customer's pov. I know solos can be very toxic, but they also have their own right as customers. Also keeping calm is good, but not in all situations. I apologize for my tantrum. I'm just mad from bad shopping experiences 😆Sometimes I think you guys idolize them too much, it's not healthy.
[ysl continues cause limited text] thank you for replying to me! You seem to have a strong mind-very admirable! Really want to chat with you longer but I don't use social media. I'm kinda embarrassed that I posted something like that, if you can delete it then I 'd be grateful! I don't follow any idol anymore, just love the bond between xz&wyb (seem like soulmates to me) I was upset for several days after that post, so again sorry and happy new year!
This is in reference to a previous post.
Hi Anon... 🫤
I'm not deleting my post just because you feel embarrassed. It's an anonymous post. I don't think there's any rationale for asking me to remove it. There's nothing at all connecting it to you except for your own knowledge that you personally wrote it. That is, in fact, the entire point of being anonymous.
And I find your regret ironic considering the core message of my YSL post was that people should try to be a little bit less impulsive, and consider the outcome of their actions before they take them. Perhaps you're starting to realize that now yourself.
As for "being lumped in with solos," I'm not sure where you got the impression I'd placed you in any camp. You were simply referred to as 'a fan', and all of us are fans, BXG, MTJJ and XFX alike. As I've said many, many times, there are toxic fans from every camp. You're not unique in that respect. Although I will admit that you smell a bit fishy to me, for a variety of reasons...
Customer service issues can be frustrating, no doubt about it, but your "customer service issues" should not become GG's personal career issues. It's outrageous, tone-deaf and short-sighted for fans to think that they're helping someone by harming them in this way.
Every fan needs to get with the current program and realize that the situation has dramatically shifted around fan culture in China, and there are serious consequences to stars whose fans behave in disruptive ways.
I got quite a bit of pushback from someone (who I suspect to be you, actually, given their almost identical language usage to you... but I guess it could just be a 'coincidence') claiming that 'I have no clue about the fan culture in China'.
Regardless of who it was, I think the clue deficit lies with them and all the other 'fan culture' fans. They continue to behave in pre-2/27 ways, but we are living in a post-22/7 world. They don't seem to have gotten the memo that the public and official perspectives on fan culture have changed, and the consequences of fan behavior have changed. Fans can't continue behaving the way they used to and think that everything's going to be the same as it used to be.
Yes I know the fan reaction to the YSL situation was pretty typical of fan culture, but you seem to believe that's a good, normal thing when actually it's not. Not anymore. The government no longer looks the other way when these things happen. Stars can and will bear the consequences of those actions. The general public has a diminishing patience for this behavior and culture as well, and most people take a dim view of it all. Particularly during this time of extreme hardship.
Fans need to learn to read the room, and especially, they need to listen to GG and his oft-stated wishes around fan behavior. He has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want fans over-identifying with him, being instigated, causing disruptions, focusing on consumerism, focusing on rankings or trying to 'protect' him.
I find it rather strange that you speak of 'our' (not sure who you're talking about with this grouping - turtles?) 'idolizing them too much' and it being 'unhealthy' when it's actually you who was exhibiting behavior that falls outside of what I'd characterize as 'calm', 'rational' and 'respectful'. I guess your impressions are your own, but perhaps some self-reflection is in order? Just a thought.
A bit of perspective might do you some good, Anon. 'Bad shopping experiences' can't justify disrupting the career of a star you say you care about, nor - frankly - can they justify disrupting my blog.
In any case, I'm grateful your ask came in two messages. It has allowed me to answer your ask while also being able to block you - for your good and for my own. I think we both can find more productive, positive uses for our time.
Happy new year. May yours be one of transformation and peace. 🙏🏻
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whosscruffylooking · 3 years
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The Purest Things-Something There
Warnings: Mentions of murder. Canon-typical violence.
Word Count: 2.5k
a/n: i am so beyond sorry that it has taken this long to get another chapter out. this doesn’t follow my post schedule that i had previously given, but hopefully this can be a good place holder till later this week. 
The Purest Things Masterlist
May 2008
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Bookend: "It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent." -Madeleine Albright
"There's no way I'm doing that," you rebuttal, "Hotch? Tell them it's a ridiculous idea." He stays silent, but his mouth twitches slightly.
Oh, you son of a-
"Richards is a classic narcissist. The challenge of facing a tough, fearless, and intelligent woman will give him his high. Narcissists are drawn to goal-oriented women, women who are resilient, adaptable, yet decisive. Show him that you are a good listener, but don't praise him."
"Think of him like a wild animal," Spencer adds, "You don't feed zoo animals because they are unpredictable. Remember, narcissists have an extraordinary sense of self, and when you praise his ego, you enable his unstable and feeble mind. He doesn't hear praise; he hears how much better he is than you. If you don't feed the beast, he won't have the stamina to combat your confidence later."
"Once you disarm him, I'll come in and challenge his confidence," Hotch concludes. 
Could you have said that less attractively? That would have been more helpful.
Aaron cheekily smirks as if reading your mind but quickly looks away. You wish you didn't blush so fast-that you had some sense to keep your emotions to yourself. In a second, your cheeks are rosy, and you are convinced that everyone in the room can perceive your feelings as if you wrote them on little notes and passed them around.
You grunt and roll your eyes, "I hate all of you."
Derek snaps his fingers at you, "Lose the jacket."
"All men are pigs," you spit while removing your blazer, leaving you in a fitted tank top and your tight-legged jeans that hug your curves in all of the right places.
Derek wolf whistles at you, and you hurl your jacket at him.  Aaron lets his eyes slide up and down your body, his gaze lasting longer than it should. He swears that as you stride into the interrogation room, your hips swing a bit farther side to side than usual. It is the very action that radiates courage, a mind coupled perfectly with itself and the world around it, concentrated and solemn.
Typically, Hotch would divert the task of adulating a narcissist to Prentiss, but he knows if anyone can take command of someone's attention, it's you. How does he know? Because you captivate him far more often than he cares to admit, defying his very being with every interaction. You are a secret weapon that he wants to keep concealed until you can allow your talents to shine genuinely. Aaron knows that now is your moment. ++++ "What is it that I am being accused of? Fraud? Embezzling?" The sharp-dressed businessman questions; his gaze is straying further below your eyes than you care for.
Pig.
You throw a file down on the medal table, and it slides across, stopping right in front of the man, successfully redirecting his stare somewhere other than your chest.
"Try murder."
His eyes widen, "You're joking. Come on, where are the hidden cameras? I'm ready for you to yell candid camera now! I am Milton Richards, for god's sake!"
"I don't know!" You shrug your shoulders. "Why don't you explain this to me, Mr. Richards. I'm just as confused as you are. What reason could a successful, charming, handsome, wealthy business mogul like yourself possibly have to kill someone?"
"Oh please," Richards scoffs, "This isn't an interrogation. You've already pegged me as guilty."
"I don't agree, but you have the right to feel how you feel."
He purses his lips, leaning as far away from you as physically possible while handcuffed to the table.
"Milton, why did you try to escape a moving vehicle when my team apprehended you?"
"Just felt like it, I guess," he shrugs mockingly.
"So, something just randomly compelled you to flee the custody of a federal agent?"
Richards leers at you. You stand up and walk around the table, leaning down next to him, "I get it. I do. You're a suave, wealthy, and ruthless business tyrant. You have to cover your tracks-do what it takes to survive."
He raises his eyebrow, turning to face you, your faces mere inches from each other. I got you now.
"Trust me. I know probably better than anyone what it takes to maintain a position you fought your entire life for. I'm a woman; I had to claw my way into the F.B.I. Do you think it's easy being surrounded by a team filled with uncontrolled testosterone? Womanhood requires balls; I see you keep your balls in your pants, cool, cool. Mine are on my chest, up top. As you've so duly noticed."
His eyes flicker to the aforementioned area, and you restrain yourself from gagging.
"And you know what, Richards? I use them every day of my life. Because in my line of business, sometimes I have to take the backdoor to get things done. Why do I get the sense that you were the same way before you became Mr. Wolf of Wall Street? How else does a kid who grew up in the projects become a multi-millionaire mogul by 27?"
"We both know what the other is capable of. C'mon, let's show each other a bit of respect here. No games, let's be upfront with each other," you appeal. ++++ Aaron watches as you work the room like it is your stage. You play the part perfectly.  He admires your ability to absorb things and then responded rather than immediately react to douse firey circumstances rather than add to the flames.
Derek finds himself next to Aaron, smugly observing Aaron's visible fascination with you.
"She's fantastic, Hotch," Derek beams with pride. Hotch holds his breath behind pursed lips in an attempt to barricade himself from the feelings of foolish jealousy he feels creeping up.
I know she is. I think I recognize it a little too well.
Aaron knows that Derek will be scrutinizing his reaction to the commendation and refrains from responding.
Of course, Derek reads this lack of a reaction as a response itself. And he finds it strangely amusing. ++++ "Here's what I think happened," you twirl your finger around the manilla file, "I think you were having some money troubles and your top investors caught onto your little games. When you sat down, you volunteered the crimes fraud and embezzlement as reasons you assumed we brought you into custody. You listed them like they are apparent reasons for us to charge you. Those are two areas you are clearly willing to take the fall for and have cause to oblige by."
Opening the file, a photograph is revealed within of a murder victim. Richards shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stifling a cough.
"Do you know this man?"
"N-no," he claims as his eyes flutter from the photo to his hands.
Surprised by his blatant tell, you glance back at the two-way mirror.
Turning back to the suspect with a newfound spark in your eyes, you press harder, "Strike one. Try again."
"Excuse me?"
"The man in the image is Walter Barone, the C.E.O. of Jameson Whitely Associates...your accounting firm. Your company was going bankrupt, Milton. There was nowhere left for you to turn. So, do you want to try that again? This time, answer my questions directly and honestly."
"Walt had a reserve saved for me worth $5 million. Last week when I approached him about dipping into the fund to keep the company afloat, he withheld it. I wouldn't kill him for it, though."
"Well, see, that's the problem here, Milton. When he was found, that little reserve of yours was nowhere to be found. Naturally, you can assume where my mind goes when I try and put two and two together, right?"
"I told you," he says, clearly provoked by your accusation, "I wouldn't...didn't kill him."
"Wasn't it you, in your book, right? Who said, 'It's surprising what a man will do when properly motivated?' I don't know about you, but losing everything you'd ever worked for and having your one saving grace held from you seems like pretty good motivation."
Silence. "Oh, come on, Milton, now is not the time to act so arrogant!"
He slams his fists on the table; you abstain from being startled in an attempt to show him no fear.
Wild animals can smell fear. 
"Arrogant, huh? Why don't you step up and prove me wrong? Prove you're better than me. You despise me for being successful; I despise you for your assumption that you could waltz in here like a tramp and seduce me into giving myself up. What? Too harsh? I'm not sure you and I are even the same species."
Hotch bursts into the room, and you quickly signal for him to stand down. I've got this.
He gives you a prideful wink. I know you do.
Somehow Aaron being in the room gives you that last little push to conclude this grand performance of yours. Slowly, you begin clapping dramatically for his little one-person comedy act. He certainly knows how to play the fool.
"Is that a dare? Challenge accepted. Your entire life, you have suffered from a disease... a fragile ego. You have built these walls of detachment so that you can conveniently solicit status to hide your true, weak self. You lash out because you feel it compensates for your insecurities."  
"The truth is, despite being at the top of the corporate chain, every day you lead the life of a loser. You are willing to destroy people psychically, emotionally, and mentally. And you view that as a cause for celebration. You are the embodiment of a loser and abject failure."
Hotch touches the small of your back; you shiver at the sudden warmth that fills your body in reaction to it. He hands you a piece of paper, one that seals Richards' conviction.
"Milton Richards, you are under arrest for the murder of Walter Barone, Hank Simmons, Frankie Lisbon, and Jillian Ryder."
Hotch motions for you to do the honors.
"By all means, lead the way."
Holding yourself proud and tall, you waltz over to Milton and hoist him out of his chair. Inclining your lips to his ear, you tell him contemptuously, "You lose."   ++++ "Way to go, superstar! You had us all on the edge of our seats," Derek says, wrapping his muscular arms around you. You breathe in his cologne and savor the sensation of being in his arms.
Since the day you met Morgan, you've felt a draw to him. Not in a romantic way, though you proudly admit he is hands-down one of the most gorgeous men to set foot on earth. He gives you the feeling of safety, warmth, and brotherly love. His hugs rejuvenate you after a long day of work, and you see to it that neither of you leaves the office without receiving your signature embraces.
Aaron observes you and Derek's shared embrace from the shelter of his office. Before he can comprehend his movements, his legs carry him to the terrace overlooking the bullpen.
What do you think you're doing, Hotch? Pull yourself together. They’re friends. Just like you and her are.
Dismissing his inner voice of reason, he calls out to you, "Y/L/N. See me in my office."
You grimace at his tone of voice but abide by his request.
Derek chuckles, "Green is not that man's color."
"What?" You turn to him, confused.
"Goodnight, superstar."
"Night, handsome," you blow him a kiss, trying to brush his comment out of your mind.  ++++ "You summoned?"
Aaron's whiskey-colored eyes meet yours. The tempo of your heart quickens like a metronome.
"You did a phenomenal job in there."
"I've learned from the best." You. I've learned from you.
He clears his throat, "Those things you said...a-about the men on this team. Is that how you truly feel?"
Shocked by his willingness to believe such a misleading statement, you gasp and close the distance between the two of you.
You must have some nerve to believe that I would ever view you as anything other than the most upstanding man I've ever met.
"Aaron, what I said in there is further than the truth than I would have liked to have strayed. In fact, it was with you that I finally felt equal as a human being-like someone recognized me for my intellect and self-worth. A woman can't acquire that regardless of how 'equal' this world claims to be."
Aaron finds himself lost in your eyes, absorbing every meaning behind your words.
"It was a freeing feeling having someone I respect so highly show me similar respect."
No. Don't stop talking. Please. Hotch blushes at his inner monologue, incapable of comprehending precisely what kind of influence you hold on him.  
"Anyway," you laugh, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face, "Sorry for my little tangent."
"No," Hotch interjects firmly, "Never apologize for expressing your feelings. I assured you last year that I'll always be available as a sounding board for you. That offer still stands."
Your gaze softens as you study him, his intentions, his mannerisms. He notices your pupils dilate, and it commences a chain reaction within his veins. To him, it's not the fact that you radiate beauty on the outside. Sure, you are physically fit and put in the effort to maintain your appearance. Naturally, that would be why someone like Derek Morgan would have you on his radar.
But, Aaron has gradually grown accustomed to the kindness that you seem to reserve just for him. He sees the differences between how you act around the team versus when you step inside his office or are alone in the car with him, even the way your confidence elevates when he walks into the interrogation room.
These differences aren't unique to just you, though. Aaron notices the same changes in himself when he is around you. Never did he expect to go home from work and lie in bed thinking about the way your eyes strayed on his for a moment too long, or how as he completed paperwork at his desk, he'd replay in his mind a cheesy joke you told the team. He knows how you like your coffee from observing you in the break room one too many times.
One cream, two sugars.
Your laughter warms his body from the inside out. When you talk about your favorite comic book with Prentiss and Morgan, the twinkle in your eye never fails to bring a smile to his face. He knows that you hate getting out of the car when it rains because your perfectly straightened hair that you spent god knows how long on will undoubtedly curl.
His changes were less evident on the outside. But, he knew that deep down, there is something there that wasn't there before.
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forevfangirlwrites · 4 years
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I'm obsessed with the actors au! first date/kiss for that au?
Part 1: Here (Part 2: Here)
The best thing about Percy’s life is that he has managed to score a date with The Annabeth Chase.
The worst thing about Percy’s life is that he has no fucking clue how he’s supposed to pull this off.
She’s a famous actress. So it’s not like he can just take her to Olive Garden and he does not have the budget for something super fancy and oh, did he mention, she’s famous, so going out in public is going to be an issue and—
He calls Grover.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Grover says in utter disbelief over the line.
Percy groans as he plops down on his couch. “I almost wish I was, this is too stressful. I can’t do it, why did I even say anything?”
Luckily, Grover is his best friend and completely used to rambling that’s usually just a tad dramatic.
“You just need to play to your strengths.”
“Did you just quote a sports movie?”
“Do you want my help or not?”
“Yes, please, sorry.” Percy's too desperate. “Continue.”
Grover sighs. “As I was saying, it seems like she just wants to spend some time with you--though I'm still having a hard time believing that you actually scored a date with Annabeth Chase, are you sure it was her?"
"Grover!"
"Sorry, just making sure. Anyway, you should do just that: spend some time with her. And do what you do best.”
“Which is?” he asks, but he thinks he knows the answer. His oven is already on.
“Don’t play dumb, I have no doubt you’re stress baking cookies right now.”
“Okay, okay, but…” he trails off, another thought coming to him. “What if she doesn’t like baked goods?”
“Oh my god Percy, it’s baked goods, who doesn’t like them!”
Grover makes a fair point. (Plus, he’s pretty sure she’s posted stuff on her Instagram that was baked goods.)
So, miraculously, with some help from Grover and the okay from Cali, he manages to pull together something that he hopes is at least halfway decent.
The small, cramped café is already cute, but Percy hopes that by drawing down the blinds and lighting some candles and lamps he’s made it cozier. (He even bought a table cover for one of the two lone tables at the place.)
The bell rings just as he’s finished setting out some plates and his head snaps up as Annabeth Chase, in all her dark jeans and crème blouse glory, walks in. (Seriously, jeans never look that good on anyone and what probably really famous designer thought it was a good idea to have off the shoulder blouses because he might be choking a little right now).
“Hey,” she says softly while he stares.
She laughs and crosses the distance between them to smile sweetly. “Percy?”
“Huh? Yes? Hi, Annabeth, you came, I mean, of course you did, have a seat.” He gets the words out all in one breath and turns towards the counter where he’s laid out some food.
A hand on his arm stops him and forget Jason Grace’s eyes, her touch is electrifying.
“Percy,” she says slowly and he’s afraid he’s fucked things up and the date hasn’t even started. “Does it help to know that I’m nervous too?”
What?
She offers a small smile. “Believe it or not, I don’t normally do this, and I don’t know what’s going through your head but right now, I’m just a girl on a first date, and I’m nervous too. So,” she takes a breath, “let’s just be nervous together, okay?”
He wants to slap himself in the face for being an absolute (insensitive) idiot. But he doesn’t think that would help the situation, so instead he nods.
“Yeah, okay, sorry. Can we start again?”
Annabeth smiles, her first real true smile so far and Percy feels a warmth in his chest. She nods and he thanks every deity in the world
Squaring his shoulders, he turns properly towards her, taking in her appearance with a wide smile, and takes her hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, raising her hand to his lips. “And thanks for, you know...” His brain kinda short circuited when he kissed her hand, but he tries to power through anyway, “joining me tonight.”
She giggles as he pulls out a chair for her. “You look pretty cute too,” she replies with a wink and Percy tries not to have a heart attack.
“You’re cuter,” he argues back, as she slips into her seat. She makes a face and he shoots her a grin as he turns around to get the food.
“I don’t know about that, my view is pretty great,” she calls, and he almost drops the dish of enchiladas he’s made.
He tells his brain to come up with a quick and witty retort. His brain returns an image of Annabeth kissing him that is entirely unhelpful to the situation.
Turning back around with the dish firmly grasped in his hands, all he can manage is making the same face as she did fifteen seconds ago. But at least he doesn’t drop the food. Baby steps.
She laughs and he places the dish in between them, maneuvering around the drinks he’s already set out.
“Clearly you haven’t looked in a mirror,” he retaliates.
Annabeth rolls her eyes and smiles. “How about I call a truce and say that the food looks the best out of all of us. Did you make it?”
 And the nervousness is back as some heat flares up to his cheeks and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry if it’s not the best, it’s my first time making them, really and—“
“I’m sure they’re going to be good, now please sit down and have some too, I’m feeling kinda lonely here,” she jokes, but he catches the look behind her eyes. 
He quickly sits down, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans. Nodding towards the food, he aims for the casual that he had lost the moment he had served the food. “Well? Don't leave me hanging.”
Truthfully, he had already taste tested (he couldn’t serve something bad) and from the little he had, it seemed pretty okay. But that doesn’t stop him from anxiously looking over at her as he serves himself.
Annabeth's eyes widen as she chews and he hopes that's a good sign. “Percy," she says as she finishes up her bite. "This is so good! There’s no way you made them for the first time!”
He blushes again and wonders when he went from being 26 to 16 again. “I had help, my best friend Grover makes it even better.”
“Still. Do you like to cook?” she asks, taking another bite.
“Yeah, but I like to bake even more.”
Seeing her questioning face, he laughs, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Yeah, you’ll get to taste some of that later.”
She beams at him. “I can’t wait!”
“What about you? Do you like cooking?”
It’s kind of bizarre to be talking about cooking with Annabeth freaking Chase, but if there’s one thing he’s learned, she’s only human (an amazing, beautiful, talented human in his eyes, but still just human) and he needs to get over himself.
“I wish, I am horrible in the kitchen though.”
“What? No way? You’re telling me the guest star on Cooking with Dionysus can’t actually cook?” He jokes back.
She groans, leaning back in her chair. “Oh my god, that was so nerve wracking. Thankfully, I had a recipe and some help, even if it was snarky help.”
He leans forward. “Is he actually that snarky?”
Annabeth shrugs, her exposed shoulders rising and falling, and he represses a sudden urge to kiss the freckle on her right one. “Hard to tell. I don’t think he hated me though.”
“It must be tough, being around all these famous people, must be a lot of drama.”
She sighs. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a tough industry, but there are some really good ones out there.”
“Like Jason.”
“Like Jason,” she agrees. “I’m glad he told me about this place.” Her eyes wander the room and the nervousness about his choices crops up again.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he blurts, causing her focus to shift back to him.
“Mind what?”
Well now that he’s talked himself into a hole, he has to talk himself out of it. Nervous together, that’s what she had said right?
“That our date is here, I didn’t think being out in public would be the best so I tried to make it as private as possible and this was the only place I could think of that—”
For the second time that night, she cuts him off. “Percy, it’s perfect.” She lays a hand on his across the small table. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this and I really appreciate it, thank you.”
He smiles, the anxiety slowly melting away. “Good, I’m glad, I was just kinda worried about it, you know, and I’m glad that you don’t mind this, so um, thank you,” he ends lamely.
“Don’t worry,” Annabeth assures, squeezing his hand, “I’ll make sure to plan the next one.”
“Next one?” Internally, he’s dying a little, but he has to play it cool you know. So naturally, his voice totally definitely doesn’t crack.
“We’ll see, depends on the baked goods,” she teases back.
He shoots her a conspiratorial smile. “How do you feel about cupcakes?”
As it turns out Annabeth Chase (like most people, as Grover would say) loved the cupcakes and Percy Jackson loved the way the frosting tasted in her mouth when he stole a kiss.
A/N: Thank you for sending a prompt! This AU is the most requested one that I get so I’m glad I was able to write a little first date bit to establish it a little more! I hope you liked it and thanks again!
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