#technically boyfriend posting in that a few of these are directly taken from the way i feel about the both of them but.

[gigglingauspice]

Love is too imprecise a word.

"I love you" I would follow you like a hound into hell if you didn't forbid it, and even then, i would want to walk beside you anyways "I love you" I want you to come home to me. I want to keep your home warm with food on the stove that you can eat. "I love you" I will hold you when sorrow finds you "I love you" I want to be held "I love you" I hunger for you like an animal; isn't it funny how carnal has two meanings? "I love you" I have heard you laugh and it sounds the way sunlight feels "I love you" I want to keep you with me. "I love you" If you are hurt I will tend to your injuries and kill what injured you. "I love you" come watch the stars with me "I love you" I'm making this for you so you won't feel the winter's chill. "I love you" I want to kiss you wearing sticky lipgloss to make it your problem too. "I love you" I would grieve with you. "I love you" I wrote down your favorites so I wouldn't forget them "I love you" I know you.

[edit: I know this is a love poem, but please do not comment “<3” or leave heart emojis on this post. thank you in advance!]

[babytarttdoodoo]

hi! I've loved all the fic's you've posted so far! could I please make a request for something where Jamie gets officially diagnosed with ADHD and the team (and Roy and Keeley) are like 'well that makes sense' and are just so supportive through the process?

This was a doozy, anon, and I hope I’ve done it justice. Sorry Keeley didn’t get a lot of screentime - it ended up being a lot more introspective.

Thanks for the prompt!

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It wasn’t like no one had ever suggested it before.

Jamie, in fact, could clearly recall those cautious, gently probing questions Simon had ventured a few months after they’d first met. He was a teacher - a genuinely brilliant one, at that - and had recognised certain behaviours in the smart-mouthed teenager he was suddenly spending an inordinate amount of time around.

Unfortunately, Jamie had been a stubborn, prideful 16-year-old with little more than vicious dismissals for his mum’s cheery new boyfriend.

Years of school report cards and conversations at parents’ evenings echoed the same things.

If Jamie could just focus…

If he really applied himself…

If he tried a bit harder…

Exasperated teachers, tutors and coaches all leaving Jamie feeling stupid and frustrated with their attempts to guide him towards being better. Towards acting normal.

He had learned to live with the fact that some things were just harder for him than they seemed to be for everyone else. He set multiple alarms and reminders on his phone for everything he could think of. He wore jewellery and clothes that he could tug or twist or pull at without drawing too much attention to himself.

He learned to hold his tongue when he was overwhelmed and irritable for reasons he couldn’t define... and tried his best to apologise when he couldn’t keep the harsh words or knee-jerk reactions under control.

He coped.

It had finally taken a suggestion from Dr Sharon, a woman who had built up such an impressive amount of Jamie’s trust in a startlingly short amount of time that he often felt like she knew him better than he did himself, before he thought about doing anything more than that.

She had referred him to a specialist. Jamie made an appointment and answered the questions as best he could. Now, weeks later, it was official. He had ADHD.

Sitting with that information was strange. Deciding what to do with it was worse.

The first person he told was his mum. Obviously. She was reassuring and supportive, like he knew she would be, and even offered to take the train down that weekend to visit. Jamie declined, but he did have another request.

“Can you tell Simon?” he managed to choke out at the end of the call. “I think he’d like to know.”

The next conversation was a bit more complicated.

In amongst the information he’d received with his letter from the clinic were recommendations for ‘workplace accommodations’ - things that could help make ADHD easier to manage in a professional environment.

Most of it was completely irrelevant. Jamie didn’t need to sit in meetings all day or focus on a computer screen - he just needed to play football and that was the one thing he’d never had any problem with. But the advice (which Dr Sharon endorsed) was to discuss options with a manager.

Problem was, his manager was now technically Roy Fucking Kent.

And Jamie had absolutely no idea how to go about saying ‘hey, apparently my brain works differently’ to him in a way that wouldn’t end in either ridicule or dismissal.

(He was aware that he was perhaps being unfair to the man who was in many ways one of his closest friends these days. But there was a long and colourful history there that shaded every new interaction between them with the potential for chaos.)

Finally, driven half demented by days of overthinking it, he printed out a copy of his letter from the clinic and tossed it more or less directly at Roy’s head while he was filling out paperwork in his office. It mercifully landed on his desk, rather than smacking him in the face.

“Well, fuck you, too.” Roy deadpanned, fixing Jamie with a half-hearted glare and making no move to open the folded paper. “What’s that?”

“You could just fucking read it.” Jamie sulked, shoving his hands deep into the pouch of his hoodie. “‘S a letter, innit? From the doctors’.”

That had Roy frowning, what Jamie recognised as concern bunching up his brow. He picked up the document and unfolded it about as aggressively as one conceivably could. Kind of impressive, actually.

Jamie pinpointed the exact moment the information sank in and averted his gaze, locking in on the one part of the desk that wasn’t covered in files or wires or photo frames.

“Right.” Not bad, as far as reactions went. In his peripherals, Jamie saw Roy nod and readjust his hold. “... thank you. For, um, letting me know.”

“Yeah, well.” Jamie shrugged, plucking at the seams inside his pocket and studiously keeping his eyes trained on the same corner of Roy’s desk. “The leaflets and that they gave me said I should tell my boss. So. Now I have.”

“Right.” Roy repeated, agreeing like that made sense. He cleared his throat. “I know fuck all about it.”

“Join the club.”

That eased some of the weird tension that had been brewing and Roy huffed a laugh.

“Fair enough. Are you alright?”

Jamie gave that due consideration and finally dragged his stare back to Roy’s face before answering. “I think so. It’s weird, being told your brain is all…” He waved a hand around. “But it’s… nice. Knowing it’s not just me.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, assessing the truth of Jamie’s words, and seemed to accept what he said. “Is it alright if I put it in your file? Nate and Beard might have some input. Higgins should know too, probably.”

“Whatever.” Jamie chewed on his lower lip, mulling the implications over. “I don’t want to have to, like, say anything about it. But, yeah, you can tell whoever.” 

“That include the team?”

Jamie sucked in air through his teeth and pursed his mouth. Why that set his teeth on edge, he didn’t know. They were good lads - not always the most sensitive but they all (Jamie included) tried extremely hard to lift each other up when a difficult topic wormed its way into the safe space of their locker room.

This wasn’t Colin coming out or Sam fighting back against racist dickheads, though. It was just Jamie and his weird fucking brain.

“Dunno. I mean. Yeah. If you want.”

If Roy noticed his hesitation, he didn’t mention it.

Not a lot changed over the next few weeks. Jamie was still Jamie, after all. His quirks hadn’t disappeared overnight or become suddenly worse.

He coped. Just a bit differently. 

And so did the people around him.

A few days after his talk with Roy, Jamie was confronted by a smiling Keeley bearing a colourful gift bag: a present of cool rings that had spinning bands and mini gears he could fidget with, for ‘no reason’ other than she’d been thinking of him.

He spotted Sam with a book on the bus after a match, the title confusing him until he looked it up later. And then it cropped up again and again: on the shelf of Isaac’s locker, in the passenger seat of Colin’s car, sticking out of Jan’s bag.

Higgins approached him with a quiet and pleasantly confident assurance that the club’s management would do everything in their power to ensure Jamie was granted approval to use any medications that became necessary to his wellbeing.

The coaching team gave him a (mildly offensive) signal to use when he needed a minute, either to stick in his airpods and tune out, or to shuffle down to the boot room and breathe. More often than not, Dani would be waiting for him afterwards, beaming and ready to provide physical contact or launch into a full discussion on any inane topic he could think of.

Everyone was careful not to get outwardly annoyed when he asked them to repeat themselves or if he lost track of time. They let him talk when he went on a tangent. They were quick to forgive when he interrupted them or spoke without thinking.

They were… brilliant. It was brilliant.

Jamie carried on his therapy and worked hard to manage his symptoms and learn new behaviours. Despite Higgins’ promises, he decided against trying any of the medications offered to him, too concerned about weight loss and what (to his mind) felt like an unfair advantage on the pitch.

Diet and exercise became about more than just his job, they were further tools he could use to keep in control. He felt calmer most days and when he didn’t, Roy was there with extra workouts and an open door if he just needed a safe space.

It wasn’t perfect, of course it wasn't. Jamie still fixated on it when he fucked up and acted impulsively, screwing over his team or friends. He still let people down sometimes and struggled to understand how or why. He still needed to be held accountable. Shame at not being better still occasionally reared its head.

But that was okay.

Jamie was coping. And he wasn’t alone.

[multifandomimagines]

Obvious - A Kai Parker Imagine

Characters: Kai Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2285

Summary: Kai and the reader go to a party at the Salvatore house, but they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive comments, making out

Written by: Josie

A/N: First imagine! Really hope you guys like it, we’ll be posting more like this soon so be sure to check out our page to help us get going! x

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t ours - credit to who it belongs to.

Kai and Y/N didn’t have what was known as a typically conventional relationship. A witch with unlimited power and a somewhat insane siphon, both with a thirst for chaos and excitement? I mean, causing mayhem together isn’t usually on most people’s date night ideas list.

The Salvatore house was once again home to a massive Friday night party, courtesy of Caroline Forbes’ charm over Stefan, who reluctantly agreed to let her use their house as the venue. Only one of the couple was technically invited, as Y/N was best friends with the hostess. The others weren’t exactly thrilled at Kai appearing by her side with a wide grin when they arrived, but they wouldn’t object. For now at least. Not when he brought enough snacks and drinks for at least ten people.

A few drinks later, and the two witches were almost ready to let loose on the unsuspecting partygoers. What they were planning wasn’t quite as extreme as Kai would have wanted, but Y/N was able to convince him of something both fun, and that wouldn’t kill her friends or land them in a magical coma of sorts.

“Come on,” Y/N giggled as she dragged her boyfriend by the hand away from the snack table and toward the middle of the room. Kai eyed the food with longing as he was taken away from it like he was being torn from his soulmate. He kind of was, really. “Dance with me.”

Turning back to his girl, he raised an eyebrow at her flushed expression. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Only enough to give me confidence,” She turned to face him when she reached her destination in the middle of the crowd, having forced herself and Kai through various sweaty bodies. Kai got smacked in the face by a dancing drunk blonde on the way, but Y/N’s grip on his hand was too strong to give him the chance to get angry at her.

Kai smiled and pulled her close as she wrapped her arms round his neck, beaming up at him. “I thought you wanted to cause some trouble?” He smirked, leaning close as he spoke. Y/N was already a little tipsy, but having him this close made her feel completely intoxicated. He was stronger than any alcohol she could drink, and she never got hungover after a hit of him, she only wanted more.

“I do, but can’t we just act like normal people at a party for a bit? And besides, I like this song!” She swayed with him as the bass boomed through the speakers, making it all the more intense.

“You know I’m not all that much of a dancer.” Kai chuckled at her moves; she was so carefree once she let herself go and her smile was enough to pull at the corner of his lips.

“You liar,” She hit lightly at his chest and looked up at him with a challenging fire in her eyes. “You dance all the time at home.”

“Okay yeah, but that’s not in front of everyone else,” His eyes drifted behind her as she cocked her head in confusion. “And your friends are watching us.”

Y/N turned her head to the side, still latched onto her boyfriend, and caught Damon and Elena keeping a watchful (and definitely judging) eye on the couple. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Kai. “Let them,” She spoke, reeling him in with her gaze. He was basically putty in her hand. “Just pretend we’re back at home, dancing in the living room, just like we do at the weekends.”

A smile crept its way back onto Kai’s lips as the memory flashed against his mind. Saturday nights were traditionally romantic - they’d cook dinner together, cuddle on the sofa and watch tv, then afterwards he’d always somehow end up twirling her around the room with the lights dimmed until they couldn’t dance anymore, and he’d carry her upstairs to bed.

“Unless,” Her voice by his ear pulled him out of his reverie, looking forward to tomorrow’s date night and thinking about how well he was going to treat her. “You fancied going somewhere else?”

The hair on the back of his neck pricked up at her words, eyes snapping to hers, pupils dilated. His signature smirk appeared, quickly melting her down. “You know me so well.”

Grabbing her wrist, their roles were reversed as he dragged her out of the crowd this time, eyes darting quickly as they searched for somewhere to hide.

“Here,” Y/N said, pointing to a small storage cupboard. “No one ever comes in here.”

“Well then,” Kai said, pushing her inside and closing the door behind them. “You’ll be the first.”

In a flash, she was slammed against the door as Kai’s lips moulded with hers in desperation. He had needed this all night. He might be an expert at hiding it, since emotions had never really bothered him before, but the critical gazes of her friends made him uncomfortable. They made him start questioning every move he made, just because he wanted Y/N’s friends to approve of him and be happy that she’s with him. Kai Parker would never let stupid emotions get to him. Not like love. At least, not until her.

She sighed into his mouth as he took her breath away, her hands gripping his hair tightly while his held her waist firmly in place. His fingers slowly trailed up her shirt, brushing the skin underneath, making her shiver. Breathing heavily, her hands found their way to his chest as he pulled away from the kiss and moved his lips to her neck.

“Eager, are we?” She giggled, her voice thin from the exhilaration. She felt Kai chuckle in response against her skin, sending a tingling sensation through her veins.

“Impatient, actually. I want you now.” Kai trailed his lips down to her collarbone, and back up to her jawline.

Y/N was finding it harder and harder to think straight as Kai pulled away, his fingers tracing the faint marks he’d left on her neck. I’ll definitely have to add to these later, he thought. “What about the plan? Still want to cause a little chaos?”

Kai’s hand that was on her neck moved behind and into her hair, her head automatically tilting up to make capturing his lips easier. “To hell with the plan.”

Leaning in for another heated kiss, their lips had barely met when the door of the storage cupboard swung open and the two of them fell to the ground with a good thump, Y/N groaning as Kai’s whole body weight crushed her.

“Seriously?” Caroline stood over the couple with her hands on her hips, looking mostly irritated yet somewhat amused. The twinkle behind her eye when she looked at Y/N gave that away - she was always the most supportive of her dating Kai.

The female witch glanced sheepishly up at her friend, lightly shoving Kai to the side. The siphon didn’t even want to make eye contact with the blonde vampire. He was yet to familiarise himself with how to deal with awkward.

“Y/N, I thought I said making out in dingy cupboards was off-limits! Raise your standards,” Caroline eyed her friend, the ghost of a smirk lingering on her lips. After looking briefly at Kai’s embarrassed expression, she leaned in closer to Y/N and whispered, “If you guys want to have some fun then just leave. The party’s starting to clear out now anyway, and it’ll be a lot more fun than in a dusty old closet.”

She winked at her and strutted back into the crowd, not before giving Kai a light pat on the shoulder on her way past. She was right, the crowd was slightly smaller than before.

“God,” Kai sighed. “That was awful. I don’t like awkward, it’s my least favourite emotion so far.”

Y/N laughed at her boyfriend; he still discovers himself experiencing new emotions all the time, and she finds it oh so endearing to see how he reacts to the foreign feeling. “Well if anyone was to catch us, I’m glad it was Caroline.”

The tall boy looked at the girl he thought was an angel, although she didn’t quite see herself that way. Sometimes that made him sad, another feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy. “Let’s just get out of here,” He said, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers, something she always loved. “Bring the party back home, just you and me. We can pick up where we left off and no one will even notice we’re gone.”

Y/N grinned, happy that they were always on the same page. She took a step forward, watching as Kai’s eyes lit up more and more the closer she got to him. Their sparkle seemed to be directly proportional to his distance from her. “You just read my mind.”

It wasn’t long until Kai was driving his silver car back to their shared apartment, one hand on her thigh as it always was. She was his comfort blanket no matter what, and physical touch was Kai’s love language, so even when driving he craved some contact with her to keep himself sane.

Mostly sane anyway.

Eventually, they returned to the warmth of their apartment and wasted no time in latching onto each other. See, that was the thing about Y/N and Kai. She might be his comfort blanket, but he was hers too. When they’re apart it feels like two separate parts of a magnet, aching to be able to touch, see, feel the other, so when that ache is satisfied, it’s like a force unlike any other, and pulling them apart proves difficult as neither of them wants to ever be away from the other.

Their love for each other was obvious, you’d have to be blind not to see it. The only reason Y/N’s friends tolerated Kai was because they couldn’t deny the clear adoration and care he had for her. They’d tell her Y/N, he can’t be trusted, he doesn’t feel, he can’t feel love, but when you witness a love like they have, how could you ignore it? They’d almost come to a silent truce: Kai stays out of trouble and never hurts Y/N, and they’d leave him be. It worked for them.

What they had said about him not feeling love was true though, before. Kai thought that love was a wasted feeling - relationships crash and burn everyday, he’d said once, so why would he let it waste his time if he can’t one hundred percent confirm that it would be for life? Y/N came into his life like a wildfire spreading through dry forest, this new and unusual feeling coursing through him at an alarming pace, and it made him want to scream. He couldn’t understand why he was unable to shake this one girl out of his head, it was distracting him and he couldn’t concentrate, it was a nuisance.

But as time went on and he started wanting to make sure she was safe and happy, it became less and less of a burden to him. In fact, he started to revel in it. Any excuse he could find to see her, he’d take it. Any chance to protect her, he’d be there in an instant. He actually started to care, which baffled him at first because Kai Parker doesn’t care. But as he looked at her then, wind blowing her hair around her face, he didn’t mind it. Maybe caring wasn’t so bad, if it was this one girl he cared about. He decided then that he would dedicate all his emotion to her, all his care, all his time, all his love.

Love. When Kai realised he was in love, he wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming. Love was pointless, he told himself so. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie to himself any longer. It may have been pointless to him back then, but not now. Now, his whole reason for living was to make this one girl happy, this one girl who had managed to change a man so set in his old toxic ways. He loved her.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d ever definitely know that she was in love. I mean, how can you really know? Everyone’s experiences with love are different, and all relationships vary, so there’s not one set formula for it. Love is complex, and that was scary to her, because she didn’t want to let someone in thinking they’re her soulmate, and they end up breaking her heart. She’d made that mistake before, and she didn’t want to let the wrong person get to her again. But with Kai, there wasn’t a single question or doubt in her mind. This, this was what love was supposed to feel like. All that fear of allowing the wrong person into her heart had vanished in an instant, because she knew there would be no one else ever again now that she had Kai. He had taken up residence in her mind and there was no space for anyone else. He was her person, she knew, it was obvious. She loved him.

Back in the apartment with the two of them getting lost in each other, those intense feelings resurfaced. In that moment, it was just the two of them: no problems, no death, no prison worlds. Only the crystal clear love they had for each other that everyone could see. It even got them a bit of a reputation in the local supernatural community as the couple that defeated all odds.

The sociopath who learned to fall in love, and the witch that taught him how.

[ah-ga-seven]

i recently saw a post about nct, saying that ppl are writing sexual fics between the members. for example, it would prob be like johnnyxyuta or something. granted, i don’t really like fics like those. but the comments of the posts made me feel quite bad about even liking fanfics in general. i don’t read or write any harmful fics at all. but some comments were like, “ppl who write or read fanfictions are weird.” “fanfics are fucking disgusting” “they’re gross, it doesn’t matter if they’re nsfw or not” “ur obsessed if ur into fanfics” now i feel so bad, am i really obsessive? i just enjoy reading and writing and people write amazing things and i want to show them that their work doesn’t go unappreciated. it just makes me feel like i’m doing something wrong and i feel so guilty.

I personally think that shipping members is taking it too far (for me) and I wouldn’t write that....

H o w e v e r. Fanfiction is and will always be a controversial form of self expression and art. It’s not for everyone but honestly...it’s not that deep. Ugh, how do I put this...

K-pop is built to use both male and female idols and romanticize them to the public for money making purposes. The industry thrives off of the relationship the fans have with the artist but its literally just that: capitalism lol. So if people have an issue with fics they should have an issue with the whole damn industry??I’m not trying to make this super technical but reading imaginary stories isn’t harming anyone since MOST people can differentiate fiction from reality. That’s why i’m against shipping members because it adds to realism and fans take it too far to the point where the idols in question actually get stressed tf out by it while its ruining their friendships and thats just wrong.

I’ve seen many kpop entertainments push the boyfriend concepts a little too far sometimes and I can’t control who reads my fics but I always put disclaimers that its fake and that the shit I write shouldn’t be taken too seriously even if that goes without saying, delusional ones will always be around its just inevitable.

What i’m trying to say with too many words is: reading and/or writing fics is all personal preference. And people will always have different views on this. In my opinion its just as much of fanart as drawings and covers and most of the time it offers an emotional and mental escape to the reader that often finds comfort in the idols in question anyway and honestly, theres nothing wrong with thats because its not harming anyone directly. It’s just taking the original ‘idol’ concept a little further by creating imaginary worlds, stories and interactions around their already public image.

All in all, read what you want and write what you want but be sure to not brainwash yourself into thinking you have any say what so ever in the personal life of the idol in question. We do not own them nor are we entitled to have an opinion on their personal lives and as long as you get that its fineeee trust me.

This was way too much of an extensive answer but I’ve been getting quite a few asks abt this stuff so by putting this out there I hope to never get them again lmaoo, hope it helped 😭✌🏽

[sincerelytan]

Girlfriend V / S Bestfriend

Girlfriend v / s Bestfriend

Word count: 4245

Prompt: “Free Day” Day 7 of Digiweek 2021

Features Characters: Yamato, Mimi, Taichi, Sora, Takeru, Kari, Koshiro and Joe

A / N: I had written this a while back and thought I would post it during day 7 of free day. Hope you enjoy my attempt at this little humours fic.

Also Today is August 1st - Happy Odaiba Day

@digiweek

Summary: Yamato finds himself in between yet another argument of Taichi and Mimi, but this time Sora has a solution that just might solve the age old question or just make things more awkward for Yamato

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“I hope we are not too late,” Sora commented as she, Yamato and Takeru were making their way to Taichi’s house.

“We are very late,” Yamato replied blandly.

“We would have been on time if you hadn’t taken so much time in picking out a gift for your girlfriend,” Sora shot back caustically. “besides, you asked us for our help.” she further pointed out.

“She’s right you know,” Takeru added; “who knew you would take so much time!” he muttered “in choosing a dress,” last part almost to himself.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yamato said rolling his eyes, clearly having heard what Takeru said.

“Thanks for helping though,” Yamato murmured after a bit of walking in silence. “I really want this date to be special.” And Takeru; Yamato said halting and turning towards his brother, “She better not find out about this surprise.” Yamato commanded Takeru in a playful warning tone, remembering how Takeru had a habit of confiding in her in just about anything and everything.

“My lips are sealed!” Takeru said enthusiastically. “Relax, she will love it! I’m sure, besides your anniversary is next week! He said beaming at a nervous Yamato.

Sensing Yamato still needed some assurance, Takeru added, “You got the black dress, the necklace, you booked the table at Il Ristorante - Luca Fantin,” he stopped and looked at Yamato, “You booked it right?”

“Yes, of course, a month ago” Yamato added.  

“And we got the limo, I know because I booked that one, Sora’s going to give you the flowers in the morning” Takeru added counting down the list on his fingers, “We have the perfect coverup story so now,” he continued as they reached Taichi’s house “let’s just hang out with the others and not let her suspect anything.” He said beaming to a somewhat confident Yamato.

Great, poker face, Yamato thought as they rang the bell to Taichi’s door.

 When they arrived at Taichi’s all 3 of them were revising their excuse as to why they turned up together and that too late. The excuse was going to be that Yamato and Takeru were held back by their mum and on the way to Taichi’s place they bumped into Sora who was going to say she came from her tennis class that was near Takeru’s place and thus they ended upcoming together.

As it turned out they didn’t really have to worry about their excuses because they could hear Taichi and Mimi arguing while they waited outside for someone to open the door.

“What’s the argument about this time?” Sora asked as Joe opened the door.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you” Joe sighted back rubbing his forehead.

“Are they finally here?” Kari called out from the room.

“Yeah,” Joe shouted back.

“Tell them to come here and end this now.” they heard Koshiro say clearly sounding annoyed.

 “We have been friends forever.” They could hear Taichi claim loudly at Mimi.

“So have we! and we’ve been dating for 3 years now.” Mimi shot back.

“Ha please, you’ll didn’t even talk with each other during elementary school.” Taichi declared assuming his victory.

“So what! I know things that you would never ever know,” Mimi replied back with a smirk, “I am the one that sleeps with him.”

Yamato blushed bright red overhearing this conversation as he, Takeru, and Sora entered the room.

“Are you two fighting; over who knows Yamato better?” Sora asked with amusement.

 “Obviously I do!” Mimi smiled as she approached Yamato and gave him a quick kiss.

“Kissing someone doesn’t necessarily mean you know them,” Taichi said shrugging his shoulders. “I kissed Catherine a couple of times; didn’t know she already had a boyfriend.”

“That’s because all you guys did was kiss,” Sora commented back dryly.

“Touché!” Taichi smirked at the guys as Sora and Kari shook their heads. 

 “Anyway,” Yamato said butting in “I guess I would say, Mimi does know me better than you, sorry Taichi.”

“That’s my man,” Mimi said happily sending an air kiss in Yamato’s direction.

“Whipped” Taichi smirked as he received a glare from Yamato.

“Anyway, I know you are just saying this because you want to continue sleeping with her.” Taichi continued now rolling his eyes at Yamato. “and you know I am right, thus further proving my point that I know him better,” Taichi concluded with his hands gesturing and looking at everyone to agree with him.

As Yamato opened his mouth to argue back, “A quiz!” Sora chimed in quickly.

“I will ask both of you’ll a few questions about Yamato, and whoever answers most of them correctly is the winner.” Sora continued excitedly as Yamato, Mimi and Taichi looked at her with confusion.

“That’s a good idea but obviously Yamato will agree with Mimi and cheat,” Taichi said shooting a look at Mimi.

Before Mimi could argue back to that, “Written cards” Koshiro butted in. “Sora can ask the question, all 3 of you’ll get a card to write the answers and then everyone can reveal the answers that they wrote at the same time, so no one can cheat,” Koshiro explained.

“You can’t be serious!” Yamato said facepalming while Taichi and Mimi were giving it a serious thought.

“This is a great idea” Takeru chimed. “Although technically I am supposed to know him better than both of you’ll.” He said pointing at Mimi and Taichi, “but this way I will find out things I don’t know about you” he added with excitement.

“This is going to be so much fun” Sora smirked with gleaming eyes as she looked directly at Yamato.

“I’m sorry Yamato”, Joe added sympathetically patting Yamato on his shoulder. 

  While the others prepared the questions, Yamato, Taichi and Mimi waited in the other room.

“Better game up Tachikawa,” Taichi said stretching his neck, getting his game mode on.

“You’re going down Yagami,” Mimi said narrowing her eyes at Taichi.

“Oh Boy!” is all Yamato could mutter.

 “Okay, we are ready,” Kari giggled as Taichi, Yamato, and Mimi entered the room.

“Please sit at your assigned seats,” Joe said, pointing to the chairs that had each of their names, a bunch of empty cards, and a marker for them to write with. “This way no one can cheat,” he said as Yamato, Mimi, and Taichi took their seats.

“Rules are simple,” Koshiro continued, “Sora will host, asking you’ll questions about Yamato, you get 10 seconds to write your answers on the cards and when asked you will reveal what you have written after which Yamato reveals his answer, Kari keeps score, and we can see which one of you’ll knows Yamato best.” He finished taking his seat near Joe and Takeru as Sora stood in front of the three participants.

 “Welcome to the game of Girlfriend v/s Best friend; a game where Mimi, the girlfriend, and Taichi, the best friend or is it the other way around?” Sora spoke commanding everyone’s attention as she began the game joyfully in her best host voice.

“Anyway, where both will try and answer some questions about Yamato. The person with the most correct answers wins the game and proves to the other that they do indeed know Yamato better.” She continued gleefully.

 “Okay, let’s do this!” Mimi said with a determined look on her face. 

“Bring it on!” Taichi answered equally determinedly.

“You all are enjoying this way too much,” Yamato said annoyed.

“You have no idea,” Sora replied giggling.

  “Starting off with an easy Question, Question 1 for girlfriend vs best friend is What colour M&Ms are Yamato’s favourite?” Sora asked grinning at the three.

As soon as Sora finished asking the question Mimi, Taichi, and Yamato quickly wrote down their answers as Koshiro timed them.

And “Mimi” Sora said pointing at Mimi as Koshiro gave her the nod indicating the time was up.

Blue – Mimi’s card read. “He always snatches up the blue ones while I go for the red ones.” She said smiling broadly.

Blue – Taichi’s card also read “this is too easy.” He said lazily.

“And now for the reveal, Yamato?” Sora asked turning to Yamato.

Yamato sighed and held up his card, where it was written Blue, “remind me why I agreed to this again?” he asked in a defeated tone.

“Because it’s fun and we get to take your case,” Sora said with a bright smile. “Also, I get my revenge on you for dragging me through 20 different shops” She added the last part softly to Yamato while Mimi and Taichi were busy taunting each other. “A point to both Mimi and Taichi” She concluded loudly pointing at Kari who giving a thumbs up and wrote down the score on the board.

 “After an easy start moving on to Question 2!” Sora continued with the same enthusiasm; What is Yamato’s favourite food?”

As before all 3 of them wrote down the answer as soon as Sora asked the question and Koshiro began his timer. With a nod from Koshiro, Sora asked Taichi and Mimi to reveal their answers.

Pizza – Taichi’s card read. “obviously” he muttered while showing his card.

Onigiri/Mochi – Mimi’s card read “I know this because I cook for him.” She answered giving Yamato a sweet but dangerous look indicating his answer better be this.

Onigiri – Yamato’s card read. “I like pizza and mochi as well,” Yamato said looking at Taichi apologetically, while Mimi gave him one of her widest smiles.  

“Oo bad luck Taichi, looks like Yamato’s favourite food is Onigiri.” Sora concluded in her host voice. “and that’s a point to Mimi." She said pointing at Kari who put another point up for Mimi.

“Whose favourite food is not Pizza!” Taichi said out loud and annoyed as he threw his answer card down.

“We all like pizza but you have an unhealthy obsession with it Taichi,” Kari said sighing. “Seriously I once saw him finish 2 large pizza’s in 1 go,” she added looking at the group.

“Hey, those pizzas were to die for,” Taichi said defending his love for pizza.

“Oh, is it the place you insisted we go for my birthday?” Koshiro asked. “Oh yeah, those pizzas were really good” he agreed, much to Taichi’s delight.

“The very same” Taichi answered happy that Koshiro was there to back him up.

 “Which reminds me, we should order some food for later,” Joe said taking out his phone to place an order. “Any suggestions?” he asked looking around.

“Pizza” Taichi answered before anyone else could. “And Yamato my Pizza is on you for not answering pizza.”

“And mine too” Mimi added. I agree with Taichi on this, she giggled much to Taichi’s delight.

“Wait, What! But Onigiri? Fine!.” Yamato said just throwing his hands up and giving up.

“Hey, I am the host, my Pizza is on you as well,” Sora added to the mix.

“I keep the score” Kari chimed in.

“and I time you guys,” Koshiro added.

“and I am your brother,” Takeru said giving his best puppy dog face.

“you guys torture me like this and expect the pizza to be on me?” “Some friends you are!” Yamato started protesting.

“Pizza is on me and Yamato,” Joe said giving Yamato an apologetic look as Yamato put his hands on his face in annoyance.

 “As Joe orders the Pizza, we move on to Question 3, What is Yamato’s preferred pizza topping?” Sora continued in her host mode.

“Was that question on the list?” Koshiro asked giving Sora a confused look.

“Well, I just thought of it” she added. “come on guys it’s a relevant question!”

Alright, muttered the three as they wrote down their answers.

“And for the reveal,” Sora said pointing towards her best friend, “Mimi”

Double Cheese – Mimi’s card read. “Yamato really loves cheese”

Double Cheese – Taichi’s card read as well; “you better not answer anything else, our friendship is literally at stake now” Taichi said dramatically.

Double Cheese – Yamato’s card read, “you know it” Yamato exclaimed as Taichi grinned chanting, “Our friendship is saved.”

 “Mimi leading by a point, we move on to Question 4,” Sora said laughing at the exchange. “Which is Yamato’s favourite band?”

“And answers,” she said as she got the nod from Koshiro.

Mimi and Taichi held up their cards at the same time

Nirvana – Mimi’s card read, “Yamato absolutely loves them, he also likes Linkin Park though.”

Nirvana – Taichi’s card also read. “Yeah, I remember this from elementary school.” He said shooting a look at Mimi.

Nirvana – Yamato’s card also read. “I think everyone knows this.”

“Apparently they do, adding a point each to Mimi and Taichi.” Sora concluded.

 “For Question 5” Sora continued; “Which sport does Yamato least suck at?”

“Thanks for putting it that way,” Yamato said rolling his eyes at Sora.

“My pleasure, and Mimi?” Sora smirked, clearly enjoying her role as the hostess.

Basketball – Mimi’s card read “He loses against Takeru every time,” she said earning a grin from Takeru and a very annoyed “hey” from Yamato.

“Taichi?”

Basketball – Taichi’s card also read. “He really sucks at soccer.” Earning a further “hey!” from Yamato.

“I can beat every one of your asses in Basketball,” Yamato stated as he showed his card that read Basketball.

“and yet somehow you always lose to me”

“Shut up Takeru.” Yamato glared at Takeru as everyone laughed.

 “Moving on to Question 6,” Sora continued. “What is Yamato’s favourite guilt trip series to binge?”

Doctor who – Taichi’s card read when Sora called out his name to reveal his answer. “I don’t know why but he loves that show.”

Glee – Mimi’s card read next.

“Mimi that’s your favourite guilt trip series, not mine” Yamato said, showing his card that read – Doctor who.

“but you always watch glee with me” Mimi pouted.

“yes, because you enjoy it, I watch it with you,” Yamato said smiling at her, at which she further pouted.

“Looks like Taichi knows Yamato’s Tv preference here better than Mimi” Sora concluded. “With a point to Taichi, he is now caught up with Mimi.”

 “And for Question 7,” Sora continued in her best hostess impression. “If Yamato could have anyone’s superpowers from the Avengers team, who’s powers would he want to have?”

“Great question!” Kari said looking at Koshiro, who had suggested the question. Blushing at Kari’s comment, Koshiro nodded to Sora as the time ended.

 “Mimi? Your answer please” Sora asked her friend.

Captain America – Mimi’s card read as she looked at Yamato with a dreamy expression.

“Oo Captain America, that would be a hot choice,” Sora giggled. “Taichi?”

Iron Man – Taichi’s card read. “Please, Yamato is more like Tony Stark, also he’s the coolest.

Thor – Yamato’s card read. As everyone gave him a bland expression. “What?” he added.

“Seriously? I thought you like Captain America, you have a keychain of his shield” Mimi squealed, somehow offended, “also he’s the hottest! and you definitely have the Ass, perhaps not America’s but definitely Japan’s Ass.” Mimi added winking to a very red Yamato.

“Hmm I don’t know, maybe; Yamato, give us a twirl now, will you?” Taichi said trying to check out Yamato.

“And deleting that image from my mind,” Takeru said making a face at Yamato.

“Yeah, but I would prefer Thor’s powers, I could fly and manipulate thunder and also not to mention I would be a God.” Yamato tried defending his answer.

“Okay, no points for anyone, looks like you guys need to buck up your game, if you wanna win who knows Japan’s Ass better,” Sora concluded laughing.

“Shudd up.” Is all Yamato could say red in his face as everyone laughed.

 “Moving on to DC, Question 8!” Sora continued as the laughter died down. “Who is Yamato’s all-time favourite DC character?”

“I actually like DC more than Marvel” Takeru added to the room.

“Nah aa, marvel all the way” Kari shot back at Takeru. “They have better movies”

“Please, who can compete against Batman?” Takeru chimed in.

“Have you read any of the comics?” Koshiro asked them both.

“some” Takeru mumbled while Kari shook her head.

“And before this gets into a Marvel vs Dc or TV vs Comics, answers please!” Sora slipped in halting that discussion.

Batman – Taichi’s card read. “obviously”

Nightwing – Mimi’s card read. “This time it’s definitely the butt," she added with a squeal.  

Nightwing – Yamato’s card read. “It's not because of the ass” Yamato added to a gleaming Mimi.

“Okay, seriously Yamato, you have got to give us a twirl!” Taichi exclaimed.

All Yamato could do was glare at Taichi as the girls giggled and the boys laughed.

 “We are just getting started on to the good questions” Sora added cheekily as the laughter subsided. “Moving on to the next question! Question 9” “What age did Yamato have his first kiss?”

Yamato and Mimi both blushed hiding their faces behind their cards as they wrote the answer.

“And Mimi?” Sora asked

13 – Mimi’s card read

16 – Taichi’s card read. “He was a late bloomer” Taichi teased

13 – Yamato’s card read as he held it up to cover his face.

“13? Really? Who?” Sora asked surprised, asking the question that was on everyone’s mind as Yamato was extremely closed off as a person that time.

“Mimi,” Yamato answered slowly “the day she was leaving for the states”

“But you guys weren’t together that time,” Koshiro asked. “or were you already secretly dating”

“Well, it was unexpected for me as well, I mean I did have a crush on him that time but didn’t think he had, so imagine my surprise when I went to tell him goodbye, he kissed me.” Mimi smiled at the memory, “And he’s really improved a lot since then in that department” she added in a teasing tone.

“I knew I saw the two of you kiss, you told me I was seeing things,” Takeru exclaimed at Yamato.

“I didn’t really want anyone to know,” Yamato said apologetically to Takeru.

“Those mood swings make so much more sense now” Takeru added laughing.

“Okay, moving on” Yamato gestured to a smiling Sora.

 “This game is just getting started,” Sora said amused at Yamato’s embarrassment.

“I am going to kill all of you,” Yamato replied pointing towards Sora and the other spectators.

“Kari, would you tell us the score please,” Sora said sticking out her tongue at Yamato.

“Taichi needs to game up, as Mimi is leading by 2 points.” Kari added with a giggle.

  “Revealing more secrets of the lone wolf, moving on to Question 10” Sora smiled “What is Yamato’s favourite alcoholic beverage?

Even before sora could ask for an answer,

Beer – Taichi’s card read. “phh please” he added with an air of confidence.

Old Fashioned – Mimi’s card read. Please, Yamato likes his classic gentleman’s whiskey drink”

Old Fashioned – Yamato’s card read.

“What old fashion? Are you kidding me!!!! We always drink beer together” Taichi bellowed.

“But I like a good whiskey, bourbon, or scotch.” Yamato tried to defend himself.

“And you don’t like the beers we drink together?” Taichi asked absolutely furious.  

“Yeah, of course I like beers but that’s not my favourite alcoholic beverage Taichi” Mat tried to explain.

“oh! So now beer isn’t sophisticated enough for you! First, you turn your back on Pizza and now Beer!” Taichi crossed his arms absolutely fuming.

“Taichi” Yamato tried to continue.

“Next boys’ night you get your own fancy-ass drink” Taichi pouted cutting Yamato off “Sora, next Question”

“Taichi” Yamato tried again.

“Next Question Sora”  

 Giving Yamato an apologetic look, Sora continued “Moving on to Question 11, What is Yamato the most afraid of?”

Ghosts – Taichi’s card red. “Remember the time when me, Takeru, and Mimi pranked Yamato” Taichi said laughing at the memory as they had spooked Yamato quite badly.

Ghosts – Mimi showed her card, smiling at the memory.

Ghosts – Yamato’s card read as well, cursing Takeru for revealing his secret.

 “With Mimi still in the lead, Question 12” Sora continued with a knowing smirk towards Yamato. “Which celebrity is on Yamato’s list? Basically, which celebrity does Yamato wish to sleep with?” she further clarified.

Mariya Nishiuchi – Taichi held up his card excitedly

Merei Kiritani – Mimi held up her card with a stoic expression.

Mariya Nishiuchi – Yamato held his card, looking anywhere except at Mimi.

“oo she is pretty” Joe let slip to everyone’s amusement.

“Didn’t she come for one of your shows?” Takeru asked with an innocent curious look, while Mimi looked surprised, and Yamato tried to signal him to shut up.

“I don’t know what you are talking about” Yamato dismissed Takeru.

“Hang on!” Mimi added looking at Yamato now. “When was this? And how do I not know about this?”

“She came backstage as well” Takeru added. “I remember it was when you were in New York for your work visit,” Takeru said looking at Mimi.

“Mimi, I swear, nothing happened. She came to meet the band and that was it, I walked out of my dressing room when she came in”

“Okay this even I didn’t know,” Takeru said amused. “I just remember she came backstage to tell you guys she really enjoyed the show.”

“Are you telling me, you had the opportunity and you chickened out?” Taichi roared with laughter.

“Excuse me?” Mimi said tartly to Taichi.

“I didn’t chicken out Taichi, I didn’t want anything to do with her.” Yamato replied just as tartly.

“Not what you said when we were watching ..” Taichi continued in a teasing tone

“Shut up Taichi” Yamato cut Taichi off. “Mimi, babe, its not ..”

“We shall talk about this later,” Mimi said narrowing her eyes.

 “Is this over yet?” Yamato asked to the room where the others were just giggling at his misery.

“no no, I want to see what else I don’t know about you.” Mimi replied in a teasing manner.

“Is it lets torture Yamato Day, today?” Yamato asked rhetorically.

“Mimi,” Joe asked cautiously, still not convinced of her mood, to which the ever bubbly girl just smiled and winked. Satisfied that Yamato won’t be in much trouble, Joe cleared his throat, “I think we have 3 more questions” to which Sora and Koshiro nodded.

The bell rung indicating the pizza was here. Joe and Yamato went to get the pizzas and pay for them, with Yamato insisting to pay for the whole thing and Joe politely but sternly telling him that they can split it amongst both of them.

 Handing everyone their food and beverages, as Yamato and Joe got back in their place, Sora continued the game.

“To continue on to Yamato’s torture, Question 13,” she asked, “What type of porn category does Yamato like?” in a very serious and calm voice.

Joe almost choked on his drink while Koshiro spat out his drink, as the remaining two roared with laughter.

 “Taichi?” Sora asked barely able to contain her laugh,

Cheerleader – Taichi’s card read. “I remember the time when he used to fantasize about Mimi in her cheerleading outfit all the time. I don’t think he’s gotten over that.” Taichi said raising his eyebrows cheekily at Yamato and Mimi.

Threesome – Mimi’s card read. “Really? You used to fantasize about me back then?” she asked amused. “And here I thought you were dropping hints for a 3way.”

Cheerleader – Yamato’s card read. “That wasn’t a hint, Mimi. I told you it was a misunderstanding.” He said blushing furiously than he ever had.

“Shame,” Mimi said casually checking her nails, “I might have been game.” She added with a wink towards him.

Taichi nearly fell off his chair, while Koshiro did fall off his chair, his mouth open with shock.

“You lucky lucky son of a gun,” Taichi added to a blushing Yamato, with a slight hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Misunderstanding?” Sora asked trying to fish for the story, while Kari just laughed and Joe looked down embarrassed.

“Okay, too much information for me,” Takeru said clearing her throat. “Next question please,” he said gesturing towards Sora.

 “So having that opportunity taken away from him, moving on to Question 14.” Sora continued still between her laughs. “What is Yamato’s safe word?”

Sora wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks and gestured for all of them to reveal their answers.

Orangutan – Taichi’s card read.

Orangutan – Mimi’s card also read.

Orangutan – Yamato’s card read as well.

Seeing the shocked look on everyone’s face, Mimi looked over to Taichi’s card and in a very loud pitch voice, almost shouting exclaimed, “What!!”

“What! No way, What! How do you even know that?” Mimi bellowed.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Taichi laughed falling off his chair, as Yamato just stared at Taichi with total shock. “Dude we really are soulmates.” Taichi managed to say between laughs as he struggled to get off the floor.

“I’m done, you know what I am done. All the other questions are irrelevant now” Mimi dropped her cards, got up, and walked out the room.

“Mimi come back,” Taichi tried calling behind her. “Princess,” he called after her as he got up and ran behind her still laughing his head off at the coincidence.

Yamato just shook his head, covering his face with his hands, as the rest of the people in the room erupted in laughter that went on for quite a while.

[asterekmess]

what scott did to derek in the season 2 finale wasn’t a violation, it was poetic justice and derek’s well deserved comeuppance for being an inhuman, incompetent flop as a an alpha, werewolf and person. derek knew he deserved it, that’s why he accepted it and never held it against scott. not to mention that by inconveniencing derek for a few seconds, scott single-handedly defeated gerard and the kanima and saved derek’s and everyone’s life at the warehouse. plus, he made derek a better person

Look. I know you like Scott. But I need you to understand that what you’re saying is not only factually incorrect, but the implications of it are really hurtful.

Scott suffered a lot because he was bitten without being given a choice. Peter attacked him and turned him into something he never wanted to be. That is horrible for him, and I feel for him. What frustrates me so much is that he had his autonomy taken away from him, he suffered a huge injustice, and instead of protecting other people’s rights to choose, he decided to take away their choice the same way it was done to him. He shamed and insulted Erica and Boyd for their decisions to take the bite, completely negating their abilities to make their own choices. Derek didn’t attack them. He told them the risks, he explained what the bite was and what he expected back from them if he gave it to them. They asked for the bite. That was their choice, not Scott’s.

First off, Derek did not deserve what happened to him. A rape survivor who lost his entire family in a brutal fire that his rapist set and had his big sister murdered by his own uncle, did not deserve to have his body used without his consent to give what he considered a gift to the father of the woman who assaulted him, and it in no way made him a ‘better person.’ No. You need to be more careful about the things you say, because sexual assault survivors shouldn’t have to read horrible things like what you just typed out and sent to me. I should not have to read it.

Second, Scott’s motivation behind what he did was not justice. It was pride, a disregard for Derek’s bodily autonomy, and maybe even an actual urge to help with the Gerard situation. You could even add revenge to the list, since Gerard threatened Scott’s mom. And I have to point out, if Scott is really the amazing person that you’re claiming he is, then ‘poetic justice’ should never be something he is aiming for. Good people don’t do the thing that is the most ‘poetic.’ If Scott were as empathetic and kind as people claim he is or the show tries to tell us he is, he never would have done that to Derek, no matter how much he disliked him. There was no reason why he couldn’t have told Derek what he had planned and gotten Derek’s permission to do what he did. Scott kept the secret from him because he felt like he had the right to make decisions about Derek’s body without Derek’s consent. He did it because he wanted to be the one with the secrets for once. He outright admits that he kept the secret “Because you may be an Alpha, but you’re not mine.” He wanted to prove that Derek couldn’t control him, by hurting Derek and forcing him to give what Derek considered the greatest gift a werewolf could bestow, to the father of the woman who murdered Derek’s family. That is cowardly, childish, and apathetic, and it directly contradicts the idea that Scott is in any way True Alpha material.

Third, nothing he did was single-handed, because Derek isn’t an inanimate object or a tool. He’s a person, and without him, Scott’s plan wouldn’t have happened. Without Deaton, Scott’s plan wouldn’t have happened. Scott did not act alone.

Fourth, Derek didn’t accept what Scott did, and he did hold it against him. He felt so unsafe with Scott that he didn’t even tell him about the Alphas over the summer, didn’t ask for his help to find his Betas, because he didn’t think Scott could be trusted. Scott had already sold him out once and Derek had every right to believe Scott would do it again. (Which he then did at the end of S3A when he went to join Deucalion and left Derek unconscious in an elevator, in a hospital about to be swarmed with cops.)

Fifth, everything you are angry with Derek for, Scott did as well. So if you’re saying that Derek is ‘inhuman’ and a failure of an Alpha/werewolf/person, then you must be saying the same thing about Scott. Yes, Derek threw his Betas around and injured Isaac. Scott also threw Isaac into a wall twice (without even the pretense of training him) and dug his claws into Liam’s (I think it was him) neck without his permission. Yes, Derek chained his Betas up on the full moon. Scott abducted Liam and duct-taped him to his bathtub without explaining anything he’d done to him, and I’m pretty sure (though I don’t remember it well) that he was involved in Liam getting chained to a tree at one point. Yes, Derek kept secrets from his pack under the pretense of ‘protecting’ them. Scott also kept the truth about how Allison’s mom was bitten from her, letting her believe for months that Derek brutally attacked her mother for no reason, and lied to Kira about her losing control of her kitsune (though I also don’t remember a lot of that plotline). He also lied to Stiles about whether Lydia liked him, after making out with Lydia (who currently had a boyfriend) in the coach’s office, which is just a dick move, whether it was the full moon or not. Derek told Erica to seduce either Scott or Stiles? Scott told Allison to go on a date with Matt and KISS HIM. Derek scared Isaac away by shouting at him? Scott shouted at Allison for doing something she’d already told him she was going to do, and for telling her parents something she’d already warned him she was going to tell them, and told her to stay away from him. Derek shoved Scott against a wall? Scott shoved Stiles against a wall on his first moon! Oh, Scott was scared/frustrated/having trouble with control? Well, Derek’s sister had just died and Scott was about to expose the entire supernatural secret to a lacrosse field full of people.

Sixth, Scott didn’t defeat Gerard or the Kanima, and he definitely didn’t save the warehouse full of people. Gerard wasn’t dead after getting the bite from Derek. He had enough energy left to tell the Kanima to kill everyone in the room, and escape while no one was looking. The Kanima wasn’t defeated by Scott, it had Allison by the fucking throat and it only backed off when Stiles hit it with his goddamn Jeep and Lydia came out to face Jackson. Scott had nothing to do with that. Lydia is technically the one who saved everyone in the warehouse, and Stiles was her ride. Scott’s contribution was negligible. It was a time waster. He could have accomplished the exact same thing by just standing there and talking to Gerard until Stiles showed up with Lydia.

Seventh, Scott’s behavior was indeed a violation. And I don’t just mean the bite he forced Derek to give Gerard. He didn’t just get revenge on the guy who’d been rude to him and arguing with him for the last few months. He lied to Derek, over and over (while also avoiding ever technically lying, in much the same way Deaton often does, to avoid being caught out by his heartbeat). He learned Derek’s plans and where Derek was hiding, insinuated that he wanted to be part of Derek’s pack (knowing how important pack was to Derek), and outright yelled at Derek for supposedly keeping something from him (Which he wasn’t. Derek canonically wasn’t holding back any secrets from Scott at the time, unless you count the fact that Peter was alive, which Derek had every right to assume Deaton had already told him) all while he was the one working for Gerard. (That is literally gaslighting. Like, literally.) He exposed Derek and his pack to Gerard, feeding him information on the same kids that he insisted were ‘his responsibility’ that probably helped Gerard get ahold of Erica and Boyd to torture them. It was a violation of Derek’s consent. A violation of Derek’s trust, of Erica and Boyd and Isaac’s trust. And a violation of Stiles’ trust as well, since Stiles had no clue what Scott was doing.

You came to my ask box after seeing the various posts that I’ve made, with documented moments from the show and well reasoned arguments and frustrations with Scott McCall’s character. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t think I’d have a comeback?

[thatsamericano]

True Colors Shining Through

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Smaller appearances from Germany, Veneziano, Canada, England, France, and Japan.

Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for mild cursing. Brief moment of possible homophobia from an unnamed nation, but it’s up to interpretation.

Word Count: 1647

Summary: America surprises everyone when he shows up to the world meeting in a rainbow colored business suit, including his boyfriend Romano.

A/N: Written for @hetalia-writers-monthly, for the June concrete prompt “rainbow.” Inspired by this post from @bitchapalooza. Title taken from the Cyndi Lauper song “True Colors.”

Germany was grumbling to himself as he arranged a stack of papers in preparation for the world meeting. “It would be nice if people could respect everyone else’s busy schedule and actually show up to the meeting on time.”

“Ve, don’t stress out so much, Ludo,” Feliciano said. “Almost everyone is here, except for America and whoever is supposed to be sitting next to him.”

Romano paused in the middle of his boredom-induced doodling long enough to roll his eyes at his little brother. “It’s Canada. America’s brother.”

“Right, Canada! I wonder why they haven’t showed up yet.”

Savino shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Beats me.” But he was wondering why Alfred hadn’t shown up yet. When they spoke on the phone last night, Alfred had been quite enthusiastic about some “surprise” he had planned for the meeting. He was also thrilled that he’d get to spend some time with Savino after the meeting, because the distance between them usually limited how much time they could spend together in person. Of course, Alfred being Alfred, he had expressed his excitement in the sappiest way possible and left Romano a blushing mess by the time the phone call ended.

America and Romano had only been together a few weeks, and they hadn’t gone public with their relationship yet because it was so new. They were still figuring things out about themselves and each other. Fredo knew he’d probably have to “come out” at some point, but unlike Savino, he didn’t have a label for his sexuality that made sense to him. All he knew was that he was happy with Romano and that anyone who gave him or his boyfriend crap for it would deserve some creative insults (if they were human) or a punch in the face (if they were a nation and therefore able to withstand Alfred’s punches without dying). Savino agreed strongly with Alfred on the latter point, and he didn’t mind waiting a bit until Alfred felt more comfortable telling people about them. For now, it was nice to have their relationship be just between them, without having to face the scrutiny or opinions of any other nations.

Romano idly continued doodling until the door to the conference room opened. He glanced up as Canada ducked his head into the doorway. “Sorry we’re late, eh?”

“It’s alright. Please take your seat,” Germany replied.

Canada turned his head to whisper to someone behind him, and then he walked into the room, followed closely by his brother. Romano’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw what Alfred had worn to the meeting.

It was only a business suit in the most technical sense of the term. The jacket, the trousers, and the tie were all striped with the colors of the rainbow. Or more specifically, the colors of the rainbow pride flag. Alfred’s ridiculously loud outfit contrasted with the darker and more muted suits everyone else was wearing. The only part of America’s outfit that was normal was his white shirt, his normal briefcase, his glasses, and his black patent leather shoes.

A stunned silence fell over the room, and it was only broken by a few hushed, baffled whispers. Alfred glanced over at Savino to flash him a quick smile before he sat down, but he didn’t explain himself to anyone. Apparently, he didn’t feel the need to, just like Savino didn’t feel the need to respond to his little brother poking him in the arm and asking him what was going on. Not that he would’ve been able to tell Feli what the fuck was going on, because he was just as confused as everyone else.

England, who was sitting on America’s right, was the first person to speak. “Alfred, what the bloody hell are you wearing?!”

America laughed and pulled some papers out of his briefcase. “It’s a business suit, dude. I’m pretty sure they have those in England.”

“I think what Angleterre was trying to say is that your outfit today is a bit more… how you say, flamboyant than your usual attire,” France pointed out as diplomatically as he could. “Especially for a world meeting.”

“It’s Pride Month. Being flamboyant is kind of the point, isn’t it?”

France blinked in disbelief, and the whispering from before increased into a steady, background hum. Romano heard someone from across the room scoffing and asking why America had to “show off” instead of wearing a pin like anyone else would have, and Romano turned to glare spitefully in their general direction. Sure, wearing a rainbow business suit to a world meeting was over the top in a way only Alfred would be, but America had every right to “show off.” Savino wouldn’t let anyone talk about his boyfriend like that.

Japan cleared his throat. “Alfred-san, forgive me if this is an intrusive question, but are you trying to tell us that you’re gay?”

“Don’t worry bro, it’s fine. And to answer your question, yeah. I’m not sure of my exact label, but I am into guys, or at least one guy in particular.” A broad grin stole over his face, and then Alfred looked directly at Savino and winked at him.

Savino’s face instantly turned scarlet, because Alfred’s wink and his grin made him flustered beyond all reason, damn it. America’s blatant statement, along with Romano’s reaction, naturally prompted even more gossip. The loud cry of “ha, I knew it!” from Lithuania was not particularly surprising, and neither were Spain’s or Feli’s comments on how much Savino was blushing, but they were embarrassing. Of course, true to form, Fredo verbally declared that Savino’s blushing was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, which was flattering, but the kind of compliment he was much more accustomed to hearing in private, not in front of literally the entire world. Romano’s face was so warm that he probably could have fried an egg on it.

Savino glared weakly at his boyfriend. “You’re only making it worse, asshole.”

“I’m only being honest, babe,” Alfred said plainly, like it was no big deal. “Everyone here can see how cute and handsome you are.”

Savino couldn’t help it. With Alfred saying sappy things like that and looking at him like he hung the moon, he cracked a smile. Alfred grinned back at him. They continued staring into each other’s eyes as Germany stood up from his chair and attempted to get the meeting back under control.

“Unless anyone has any further surprise announcements, I’m going to begin my presentation.”

America quit staring at him for about half a second to acknowledge what Germany had said. “I think we’re good, dude.”

Once Germany started talking, Romano did his best to pay attention. He took a few notes, idly sketched in his notebook, and glanced up to roll his eyes fondly whenever he felt America gazing at him like the obvious dork he was.

Eventually, it was time for the scheduled lunch break. As Romano was packing up his things, he overheard Poland telling Hungary that he was totally going to wear a pink sequined dress to the next world meeting, because America shouldn’t be the only one getting to wear whatever they wanted. Hungary laughed and said he had a point.

Alfred started to come around the other side of the table, and Feli nudged his shoulder and smirked. “I’ll have lunch with Germany today. That way you and your ragazzo can have some alone time.”

Savino could only stammer out a couple syllables before his little brother was rushing off to catch up with Germany. As Feli was latching onto the macho potato’s arm, Alfred slipped into the space beside him. “Hey, Vinny.”

“Hey, caro.” He glanced up and down Alfred’s body, then smirked as he looked up into his eyes. “Interesting outfit.”

Alfred blushed and smiled, shyer than he would have in front of anyone else. “You like it? I stumbled across it online when I was looking for something else, and it called out to me, like the stuff Billy Mays used to sell in infomercials. I had to buy it.”

Savino snorted. “It is very… you. I wouldn’t have expected to see it at a world meeting, though.”

Alfred fidgeted with the hem of his jacket sleeve and glanced away with a worried look on his face. “It was okay that I told everyone about us today, right? Before we went in, Mattie said I probably should’ve consulted with you beforehand, but I’ve just been so happy and proud to be with you, and I didn’t want to have to hide it anymore. I didn’t even think to—”

Savino gently took hold of his hand, which stopped his boyfriend’s nervous babbling. “It’s okay. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come out today. And knowing you, I figured that loud, public declarations would be part of the deal sooner or later.”

Alfred chuckled and laced their fingers together. His smile was equal parts relieved and adoring. “Okay, cool. Glad I didn’t mess that up too badly. Are you free for lunch?”

Savino huffed out a laugh. “Feli just ditched me for the potato bastard so I could have ‘alone time’ with you.”

Alfred giggled. “That’s really nice of him. I feel like I owe your brother a million dollars.”

They continued chatting back and forth, and Romano wasn’t sure if it was Alfred’s gleeful, lovestruck tone, his sweet words, or the fact that they were holding hands, but he felt warm and content as they went into the elevator and as they left the building and walked down the sidewalk together. He held Alfred’s hand until they took a table at the restaurant, because he was just as proud to be in this relationship as Alfred was, even if he was more inclined to show it with body language than rainbow colored business suits.

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 5

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing and drinking.

Word Count: 5,200

A/N: See note at the end of the chapter. Italics are internal thoughts.

Catch up with Chapter 4

The Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport was packed for your five o’clock flight on the twenty seventh. Apparently, everyone else was also saying goodbye to the Christmas holiday besides yourself. Vacation time is always great, but you had a story due on December twenty ninth that really needed to be finished. Technically, the article could have been written while staying in the frozen tundra that you once called home. The assignment is a piece covering various places to celebrate New Year’s Eve. All the information for the story could be found online and any questions could easily be answered via phone call, but after a week with your family, you needed the peace and quiet. You had grown accustomed to living alone. Home centered you, even if it was just a rental. You also thrived in an office setting; the beat of the busy newsroom also matching the beat of your heart.

Y/N: Getting ready to board. Just wanted to say goodnight in case I crash when I get home.

Grabbing your purse and duffle bag off the floor, you joined the massive crowd waiting to board the plane. This was the part of travel that gave you anxiety. The takeoff, landing, and overall length of a flight never bothered you. Nope, it was the crowd that stood directly in front of the gate. As if being on the plane longer than need be and stuffed next to two other people was enjoyable. But because everyone else stood around the gate, your anxiety made you join them.

After twenty minutes of waiting for boarding sections to be called, why they even had family boarding on a flight to Orlando was beyond you, you were seated somewhat comfortably in your window seat. The flight was full, so you did have two seat mates. Sisters from what you could tell with the bickering. The one in the middle seat explained they retired to Florida but made the trip home to see their brother for Christmas. So, you were right, sisters.

Chris didn’t send a text back, so you quickly typed one out before shutting it off for the flight.

Y/N: There are rumors that the flight has a wealthy oil baron on it. I’m pretty sure I am seated next to him. If you don’t hear from me, you know why.

You made it through the flight easy enough. All the seats were equipped with monitors loaded with various movies and television shows. Plugging in your earbuds, you settled on Toy Story 4 since you hadn’t seen it yet. After that finished, you mindlessly watched a couple of episodes of the Big Bang Theory.

As much fun as you had with your family, it was good to be home. Between the time spent at your mom’s house and then at your dad’s, plus your brother dragging you out nightly, to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, you were “getting too old for this shit.”

Walking in your house around ten that night, you were a little disappointed to see Chris hadn’t texted back. Knowing that him and Scott where in Boston to spend time with family and friends, you tried not to let it bother you too much. You were exhausted anyway. A long hot shower and your bed sounded like the ultimate plan. Emptying your suitcase into the washer could wait until tomorrow.

 With a one load of clothes in the washer, a second in the dryer, and your article half done, you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. You even woke up before your alarm this morning. Maybe a trip back home was all you needed for a boost. Usually post vacation, you needed another vacation to cope with life.

Your phone vibrated on your desk indicating you had a message. Picking it up, you saw it was Chris, so you swiped the message open.

Chris: Oil barons are so overrated. You better be home in Orlando.

You smirked at his response.

Chris: I was out late last night. Hope you had a good trip home sweetheart.

Y/N: I’m sorry, me and Spencer (the oil baron) are picking out rings. Can I call you later?

Chris: OK smartass. Don’t make me fly out there.

Oh boy, did you wish he would deliver on that threat. In actuality, you had only spent five, maybe ten minutes at the most with Chris. And even though you’ve spent hours upon hours over the last couple of months talking to him on the phone and through text messaging, you were really hoping for some in person time.

Y/N: Oh no, the baron wouldn’t like that. I might though.

You bit your lip as soon as you hit send. While Chris flirted with you often, it was rare for you to come back with a comment of your own. When a few minutes had passed without a response, you got back to work on your article. Hours later and he still hadn’t responded, you worried that maybe you had taken the game to far. You knew your comment was totally innocent, but you couldn’t help but worry. You overthink everything, that’s just who you are.

Ugh! Why am I like this?

 It wasn’t until the next day when you received a response from Chris where he completely ignored what you said.

Chris: Can you tell Scott that purple pants is not a good look.

Yep, you were not going to attempt to flirt again. You would leave all the flirting to him.

Y/N: I need context here.

Chris: For New Years Eve. He’s wearing purple pants.

Y/N: I stan Scott Evans. You can’t change my mind.

Chris: 😂

Chris: You do you sweetheart

 The end of 2019 was here and it was a year you were happy with. You didn’t make any bad haircut decisions. All your potted plants were still alive. You had written a few articles you were very proud of. You spent time with family. You made some new friends. Overall, it was a year that you had no regrets in. You only hoped 2020 would be the same.

After finishing up at the office a little earlier than usual, you joined a group of your co-workers for a long dinner, opting not to join them bar hoping as the night went on. You were keeping your word on that whole not drinking for quite some time promise you made to yourself. Well, at least not hard alcohol. Wine doesn’t count.

By eight you were home and already in your pajamas. Brooks and Jana always went to Brooks’ brother’s house on New Year’s Eve. It was their tradition. The last few years they had invited you to come along, but you had always declined. It was their family thing and even though you loved Brooks like a brother, it felt like an intrusion to join them.

Even though Christmas was over last week, you had a pile of Hallmark Christmas movies you had stored on your DVR that you needed to get through. Write Before Christmas was the first on your list. The movie starred Chad Michael Murray who you had a crush on since his One Tree Hill days. DVR was really the way to go. Being able to fast forward through commercials meant you could get in almost three movies before midnight.

After you had thoroughly swooned over Chad, you moved on to Holiday Date. It was the whole fake dating plot with a predictable outcome, but it was cute so far nonetheless.

You hit pause because your phone was buzzing out of control. You could see from the preview screen that you had six messages from Scott.

Scott: Happy New Year!

Scott: Hope you’re out finding someone to kiss at midnight

Scott: You better be out

Followed by a picture of Scott and his boyfriend embracing. A picture of a few women standing on top of a bar pouring shots directly from bottles into the mouths of who you assumed were some of Scott’s friends. And a group shot of about ten that included Chris. The were all sitting in in chairs in front of a few tables, a few people crouched down in front and a pretty blonde sitting on Chris’ lap. So, there’s that.

“You can’t get jealous about someone who isn’t yours,” you said to yourself.

It was the truth. And you had no idea who she was. How many sisters did the boys have? You looked at the picture again, deciding for sure she wasn’t a sister. Not in the way she was sitting nor the way he was holding her.

Sighing out loud, you set the phone down on the cushion next to you. You moved from your comfy place on the couch, stomping your feet until you noticed you were doing so. You steady yourself and then walked calmly into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of rosé from your refrigerator, you uncorked it and filled your large wine glass to the rim.

It’s New Year’s, I’m allowed a glass of wine. A large glass of wine.

You made your way back to your couch, inhaling a couple of large gulps before hitting the play button on the remote. Deciding you needed to formulate an appropriate response to Scott rather than saying something stupid, you delved back into the romance on the screen. Or at least you tried to.

When a half hour had passed, you picked up your phone, typing out a normal response to Scott. Normal meaning how a person who was not in any sort of relationship with Chris Evans should respond. Because you weren’t. In fact, you hoped he got laid. Well, maybe not that.

Y/N: Happy New Year!

Y/N: You and Zach look so cute! Have a great night.

There. That’s how a normal person who wasn’t living in a fantasy land would respond.

Your second movie ended but you honestly weren’t paying all that much attention. Rather than starting up a third movie, you switched it to cable, finding Ryan Seacrest hosting the annual countdown show.

Finishing your wine shortly before midnight, you washed out the glass and set it in the rack to dry. You found your way back to your couch, laying down to watch the ball drop. You fired off a text to Jana to tell her you loved her as that was your traditional greeting to each other. She sent one back almost right away asking for the two of you to get lunch on Friday. The ball dropped to a chorus of cheers followed by a rendition of Auld Lang Syne by the New York City crowd. The after show played on and you fell asleep while a band you hadn’t heard of played in the background.

In the too early hours of the morning, you woke from your place on the couch, neck aching from the odd angle you slept in. Deciding to leave your phone where it was, you crawled in to bed with no plans of waking any time soon.

Of course, you couldn’t sleep forever. You had to eat at some point as evident from your stomach loudly growling around eleven in the morning.

After eating, then showering, and getting dressed for the day, you finally took a peek at your phone. Nothing from Chris. Which is whatever because you didn’t reach out to him either. But of course, there was a message from Scott from around three in the morning.

Scott: How you doin’?

You could totally hear him saying it in a Joey Tribbiani accent.

Scott: Earth to Sassy

You typed out a reply, but you doubted he was out of bed if he was texting you so late.

Y/N: Sassy was sleeping, you late night partier you

Deciding that you didn’t want to be rude, you sent Chris a text. It was New Years after all, so it was only polite. Hopefully he was awake. And alone. No. That was none of your business. Keeping it simple was the way to go.

Y/N: Happy New Year

Almost immediately, Chris responded back.

Chris: Happy New Year

And that was it. He was probably hungover...or occupied.

 Friday found you at Champs for lunch with Jana. The two of you chatting about New Year’s Eve. Brooks’ brother and wife had a little boy almost a year ago, so the party was a little different than it had been in previous years. This apparently ignited a fatherhood desire for Brooks over the last couple of days.

“And I want to have a little one too, but I’m so close to making partner. It’s just not the right time,” Jana sighed out.

You reached across the table grabbing her hand, rubbing it soothingly. “When it’s right, it’s right,” you replied.

She nodded her head, giving your hand a squeeze before pulling it away. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll be any less busy after I make partner. I kind of wish we would have started a family right after we got married. Coulda, shoulda, I guess.”

“Is there ever a right time though?” you asked. “Then there’s me who hasn’t dated in how long?” You let out a chuckle, quickly sticking a chicken finger in your mouth. You really didn’t want the sympathy, you’re not even sure why you said it.

“Whose fault is that? I don’t see you putting yourself out there. Oh! Maybe you should ask Chris out,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Dude. No,” you replied. “Number one, we don’t live in the same state. The same region even. Number two, he’s so not interested. If he were, he probably would have made something happen. Number three, he barely knows me. Number four, he’s him and I’m me.”

Jana put her hand over your mouth, giving you a warning glare. When she didn’t immediately remove it, you licked it, causing her to cringe and grab a napkin to wipe the spot you licked. You chuckled quietly to yourself.

“You’re a brat. Do you know that?” she questioned. “But you’re also amazing and I don’t want to hear anything different. If not Chris, just put yourself out there. It’s a start of a brand new year. Make some changes.”

Numbly, you nodded your head. Maybe you had been hiding away, in a way. It wasn’t like you were staying home all the time. You went out. Sometimes. Okay fine. When you weren’t working or out with your married couple friends, you mostly kept to the office and your house. You’d think about adding something more social to your schedule.

 January dragged on as it usually did. You definitely were enjoying the cooler and sometimes cold temperatures, making use of the new sweaters you purchased around Christmas. Your relationship with Chris had started to fizzle. It was subtle at first. Texts not being responded to for hours. Phone calls not being answered from time to time. Okay, that one wasn’t a big deal. But most of those phone calls weren’t being returned. A lot less sweethearts being tossed your way. It was different. And because you had developed feelings or the at the very least, a crush on Chris, you were feeling down about it. Scott was still in your life and it felt like he would always be. Maybe it was safer that way. Maybe being close with both of the brothers would ruin the other friendship in the end. Especially if feelings weren’t returned.

It was near the end of January when you brought it up to Scott. You weren’t looking for drama or attention, so you just casually mentioned over the phone when he brought up Chris that you hadn’t been hearing from Chris quite as often.

“Did Chris tell you what he bought Shanna?” Scott chuckles out.

“No, he didn’t,” you said and then took a breath. “Actually, I haven’t really been hearing from Chris a whole lot lately.”

You hear Scott blow out a breath and then you hear him groan. “He does that sometimes. I’m sorry,” Scott sighs.

“Why are you sorry? Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. As long as we’re good,” you stifled out.

“Of course, you and I are good. Not even a question Sassy.”

The nickname instantly putting you at ease.

“Good.” You bit at your lip, wondering if you should push further. Why not, might as well make this a one and done conversation. “What did you mean by, he does this sometimes?” you asked.

“When he’s with someone, he kind of just gets wrapped up in that person. He’ll eventually gets better at talking to the outside world, it just takes him awhile.”

Welp. There it is. So, at least you can give up on this little crush. Definitely not feelings. Just a crush and you would be over it by tomorrow.

“Oh!” you exclaimed.

Get. It. Together.

“I didn’t know he was seeing anyone,” you said in a much calmer voice.

“Yeah…It’s with Courtney. And you have no idea who Courtney is, sorry. They’ve dated a bunch of times of the years. Just can never seem to make it work. She’s great and everyone loves her, they just never seem to work. And you better not tell him I told you that,” he warned.

“Geez, calm down Grumpy. Like I said, we aren’t exactly talking these days and I’m not exactly going to bring up a girlfriend I don’t know,” you replied.

Scott chuckled. “There’s the Sassy I know. Anyway, it’s still new again. They started to hangout right around Christmas.”

“Oh, is she that girl on his lap from the pictures you sent me on New Year’s?” you asked.

“Yeah, she was there that night. Long blonde hair?”

“Yep,” you replied.

“That would be Courtney. I wouldn’t worry, it won’t last. I mean, I want the best for him and if it’s her, the more power to them.”

Now you were confused.

“Wh-why would I worry?” you said and then promptly cleared your throat.

“Come on Y/N, it’s not hard to tell that you maybe have teeny-tiny crush on my brother. A little bit. Come on. Tell me I’m wrong,” he teased.

He couldn’t see you, but you were giving him the best bitch face you could muster. “Shuddup.”

 It was a week a way from Valentines Day. Even though you were single for it again this year, you were never one of those people who hated the holiday. If you were with someone and the two of you decided to make the day special, great. If not, that was fine too. When your co-workers got flowers delivered to their desk, you always thought it was sweet. Brooks always went over the top for all holidays and you loved hearing about the special thing he did for Jana. What you didn’t love was your father calling you to wish you a happy Valentines Day that was really just a phone call prying into your relationship status. You loved your dad, you really did, you just wished he wouldn’t get on your case as much as he did.

You were up earlier than normal. Being the great friend that you were, you were bringing Jana breakfast since she was apparently going into the office earlier and earlier, surviving only on coffee. You stopped at your favorite coffee house, picking up two coffees, two apple cinnamon muffins, and a small bowl of oatmeal for Jana. You figured she could have the oatmeal now and snack on the muffin later.

Because she wasn’t pissed at you for any reason, she was already in the lobby, ready to sign you in.

“Good morning princess. I come baring gifts of a nutritional breakfast,” you greeted her after saying hello to Phil at the security desk.

“Why, thank you, bestie. Where would I be without you?” She puts her hand over her heart. The two of you were both smartasses and you often felt bad for Brooks.

You pass her the tray of coffees and wave your goodbye to Phil with your now free hand.

Jana’s apparently hungry as she scarfs down the oatmeal, only stopping to thank you for adding cinnamon for her. You’re still picking at your muffin because you ate a bowl of cereal before leaving your house. If you’re up early, your body wants to eat right away. Waiting was not an option.

“So, what does Brooks have planned for next week?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t tell me. I’d bet money that you know and are just messing with me.” She smirks at you before picking up her own muffin, peeling back the wrapper.

Honestly, you don’t know. Brooks knows you well enough to know that you will squeal, especially if it’s something good.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you tease.

She sits up straight in her seat. “You know?! Tell me!”

You start to chuckle and shake your head. “I swear on your Chanel bag I don’t know. Just messing with you.”

After your short chat, Jana kicks you out of her office. The firm’s decision on who was making partner was going to be announced in a matter of days, so everyone was putting more time in. You checked your phone for any e-mails from the paper while you waited for the elevator. There were only two so far, just a couple of assignments for the week.

“Good morning, Y/N. What brings you here so early?” Ethan asks, bumping your shoulder slightly as he comes to stand next to you at the elevator. He’s dressed in another impeccable suit. Hair styled perfectly.

“Brought Jana a little breakfast. How are you Ethan?” you asked.

The elevator opens and a few people shuffle out. Ethan holds the elevator door for you to enter, and surprisingly he gets in. You press the button for the lobby, but he doesn’t push a button for any floor.

“I’m great. It’s going to be going to be a great week.”

He’s so sure of himself, but you can’t even fault him because he’s always so nice with a smile always present on his face. Jana’s said that he’s a bit of a know it all, but he’s a hard worker too.  

The elevator doors open, the two of you walking out with Ethan walking next to you. He walks a little ahead, grabbing the door for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered as the two of you start to make your way across the parking lot.

“So, Y/N, are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

You stop in your tracks, right in the path of cars circling the lot. Deciding that’s not safe, you walk to an empty parking spot, Ethan trailing behind. The fact that he’d ask such a question surprises, but at the same time, it’s Ethan, you’re surprised he hasn’t asked sooner.

“I put the siiiiing in single,” you kind of speak and sing at the same time. Ethan in turn stares at you blankly. Apparently, he’s not a fan of Lizzo. “Ethan, we need to get you listening to popular music. I’m single.”

He gets the biggest grin on his face. Your cross your arms across your chest and lean on one leg, slightly amused. You know what’s coming, but you don’t want him to be so sure of your answer.

“Can I take you out sometime?” he asks, forest green eyes looking directly into yours.

You let him wait for your answer. Ethan is nice enough, he’s also easy on the eyes, and your dating life has also been lacking for quite some time. You’re actually slightly surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. Chewing on your bottom lip to really sell your indecision, he finally starts to squirm. He starts to brush his fingers through his perfectly jelled hair and you almost feel bad. A smile starts to form on your face and he instantly drops his hand, realizing what he was doing.

“I’d like that. Just not on Valentines Day. Not for a first date,” you tell him.

“Okay. Not on Valentines Day. Great. Okay,” he replies.

He’s such a dork, but it’s sweet. Ethan just stands there grinning at you and you’re really itching to get in your car rather than standing in a parking lot of a law firm.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it so you can call me,” you tell him.

Ethan passes you his phone, smile still bright on his face. You shake your head slightly but smile back, entering your number and passing him back the phone.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

“I look forward to it,” you reply, instantly cringing at your words.

I look forward to it? Who’s the dork now?

You offer him a slight wave before turning around and walking to your car. You’re kind of excited for the first time in a while. Getting in your car, you fire off a text to Jana.

Y/N: Ethan finally asked me out.

Jana: Oh, great. I’m going to have to see him even more now?

You chuckle at her response. You know she’s half teasing, but what a brat.

Y/N: You assume I said yes?

Y/N: OK, I said yes. But calm down, it’s one date. No one said anything about double dating.

 Ethan waited two days before texting you.  He asked to take you to dinner on Wednesday, which was two days before Valentines Day, so you said yes. The restaurant he chose was on the higher end, so wearing jeans was out of the question. Jana called you before you had the chance to call her. She was screaming in your ear and you could barely make out what she was saying.

“What? But say it slower with less yelling,” you said to her screeching.

“She made partner,” you hear Brooks shouting from the background.

“I made partner!” she yells, in a much lower tone than before.

“Oh my god, this is amazing! I knew you’d get it!”

“I can finally get some sleep,” she sighs out.

You know she’s exhausted, but all you want to do is go out and celebrate.

“Drinks tomorrow then?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah. But like, let’s go early,” she replied.

You chuckle at her response. “Early it is. I have news for your too. Ethan’s taking me to The Capital Grille on Wednesday.”

“Oh, fancy. Makes sense though since the two of us made partner,” she said.

“What?! I didn’t know that was even a thing.”

“Yeah, it happens. Rarely though. They couldn’t decide, so we both got it,” she said.

“Well, you get some rest, and call me tomorrow, love.”

“I will. Bye Y/N.”

 You texted Scott a day later to tell him about your date. He told you he was excited for you and glad you had said yes. You laughed at the excited part because while you had been in a dry spell, it hadn’t been that long. Maybe six months. Maybe you should be more excited. Once you assigned a number to it, it sounded bad.

Scott asked if you’d heard from Chris. You had, but it was four days earlier. It was just a text saying hi, asking how I’ve been, but then the conversation fizzled out. That seemed to be the new norm in your relationship. A text every four days or five days. He had a girlfriend; he probably shouldn’t be talking to another girl daily and calling her sweetheart. You wouldn’t like that if it were the other way around.

Two days before your date, you sent Scott three pictures of dresses you were deciding between for your date with Ethan. He called you a few minutes later, wanting to go over your options.

“So, what kind of place is this?”

“It’s an expensive steakhouse in Orlando,” you replied.

“Okay, then option two is out. That’s way too casual. You should probably just throw it away. I don’t want to see that dress again.”

“Scott! Jerk. Leave my dress alone. It’s not that bad,” you complain.

“Want my help or not?”

“Fine. But I’m not throwing it out. I wear that to work a lot,” you replied.

“My point exactly. You don’t wear a work dress on a date Sassy.” Scott said.

“You takin’ to Sassy?” Chris says in the background.

Shit. He’s with Chris?

You’re not sure why you don’t want Chris to know about your date. You feel weird about him being there while this conversation is taking place.

“What about the first dress. The black one?”

It’s your attempt to move the conversation along. The sooner you get off the phone, the better.

“How slutty do you want to be on this date?” Scott asks.

Instantly you cringe, slapping your free hand against your forehead.

“Scoooott,” you whine.

“Slutty?” you hear Chris ask.

Jesus.

“It’s an honest question. Like a little slutty or a lot slutty?” Scott asked.

“Give me the phone,” Chris said. You hear Scott object in the background, but it’s too late, Chris has the phone. “What is Scott goin’ on about? You got a date or somethin’ sweetheart?”

There’s that nickname again and damnit if you stomach doesn’t flip. You really hoped you were over that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have a date,” you practically whisper out.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he asked.

A part of you thinks he’s joking or teasing, but his tone isn’t coming off that way and it’s rubbing you the wrong way.

“Tell you?” you question.

“Well, yeah. You tell Scott all about it, but don’t mention it to me,” he replied.

“Chris, you and I haven’t been exactly talking a whole lot lately. When would I have told you?”

He scoffs at your response. “We talk.”

You’re shaking your head but he can’t see you which is annoying.

“Besides, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone, let a lone had a girlfriend,” you replied.

There. You said it. It was none of your business, but you didn’t like this whole conversation and the attitude that was coming with it.

You hear breathing from his end but apparently the cat had caught his tongue because he wasn’t responding.

“I gotta go,” you said.

“Y/N, wait,” you hear him say, but your pushing the end call button before you can even stop yourself.

This was not a conversation you wanted to have. You were simply seeking a guy’s opinion on what to wear for a date. Your first in six freaking months and Chris who barely speaks to you needs to complain about not knowing about said date. You groaned out loud, picking up the work dress and sticking it back in your closest. Sending pictures of the two remaining dresses to Jana to make the final decision, you walked into your kitchen, opting for tea rather than wine.

You phone buzzed while the water simmered in the pot.

Scott: Hey, it’s Scott. I’ll call you later.

Scott was your friend. You just hoped that if your friendship with Chris was over, it wouldn’t cause any drama or stress for Scott.

Chapter 6

A/N: If you’ve read any of my past stories, you will know that I love a happy ending. Please don’t worry. I will fix this. I want this to be as realistic as it can be, so I don’t believe that Chris would put his life on hold for someone he has a phone relationship with. But have faith and know I love you all.

Tag List: @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​ @panicfob​ @patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @linki-locks11​ @mywinterwolf​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989​ @impalaimages​ @jesseswartzwelder​ @rainbowkisses31​ @xostephanie​ @panicfob​ @smoothdogsgirl​  @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @xxloki81xx​ @thenormreedus​ @holywaterbucketchallenge @mustangshelby04​ @bellaireland1981​ @carolina-thiell​ @straightforwardly​ @torntaltos​ @denise1605​ @mcuclintasha​ @southerngracela​ @iam-cj​ @trynnabeamultifandom @chrisevansforever-blog​ @kelbabyblue​ @broadwayandnetflix​ @kyjey​ @thevelvetseries​ @i-just-feel-like​ @daddieslittlefangirl​ @hista-girl​ @stankface​ @denisemarieangelina​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @whymalu​ @the-doctors-fallen-angel​ @mariswritingforfun​ @tessabb7​ @chrisevansfanfic​ @lakamaa12​ @thinkxlovexloud​ @deidrashouseofpain  @nea90sweetie​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @ripvandrinkle​ @bitterstar88​ @andymi3ntus​ @zestygingergirl​ @xstudiousslytherinx​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @cocomel0613​ @onceuponathreetwoone​ @supraveng​

[colbybrocksmolder]

Damage Control - Colby Brock x Reader (plus size/curvy)

“Welcome to the show, guys. Settle in.” The interviewer welcomed Sam and Colby.

They had been doing bits the last few weeks. Driving up the coast, they had hit 15 or 16 different creator studios to participate in partnered videos. It was crazy and hectic, but it was so cool to see them get so much media attention.

As the interview continued, the guys relaxed quite a bit. The host and the company were super chill, and they had been laughing for about 40 minutes straight.

“In the next segment, I’m going to read off a word and you have to tell me the first funny story that comes to mind, okay?” The host directed.

“Oh, hell yea.” Colby replied, Sam adding an “Oooo this could get juicy.”

After the first few words, the next word asked was “pets”.

Colby immediately turned to Sam with a huge grin on his face, “Dude, should I talk about the…the doggy door?”

“Oh, my god. YES, that’s way funnier than dyeing Circa pink.” Sam laughed. “Y/n is going to kill you”, he teased, clapping his hands and throwing his head back in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, no” the host chuckled. “Okay, out with it!”

“Okay, okay. Oh, my god I have to stop laughing. So, we all used to live in this big house called the Trap House with some of our friends. THEN we spent the following year all separate in our own apartments. Well this last month Sam, Jake, and I and all three of our girlfriends moved into another pretty large house. Y/n, my amazing girlfriend, technically moved in before the rest of us. She’s good at like decorating and organizing and she had to be there to like tell delivery people and workers where to go.” Colby rambled, trying to explain and give context. “So, Jake had gone over to drop some stuff off. Well while he was there, he didn’t realize that y/n was in the back yard and he accidentally locked her out of the house before he left.” Colby chuckled, burying his face in his hands for a second. “Oh, man. This next part is partially my fault.”

“Colby, it was 100% your fault.” Sam laughed.

“Okay, so all MY fans watching this video” Colby looked right at the camera before continuing, “know that my girlfriend is not a skinny girl.” He said casually. “You guys all know her from my last 6 months of videos on my personal channel. For anyone else watching this who maybe doesn’t know who we are or who y/n is, my girl got curves.” Colby mimed the hourglass waist shape with his hands.

Sam cut in, turning to Colby. “Side note, I found out yesterday that y/n’s number is in Kat’s phone under the name ‘baby mama’.”

Colby laughed, “Dude, Kat’s name in Y/n’s phone is way worse.” He laughed, clearing his throat. “That’s a story for another day.”

“Oh, god.” Sam laughed.

‘Okay, okay. Back to my original story.” Colby continued. “When Y/n got locked out of the house, she couldn’t get ahold of Jake. When she called me to see if I was anywhere close to the house, I reminded her that she had JUST had someone install a doggy door because we wanted to get a house dog. I may or may not have suggested that she try to crawl in through the doggy door.”

“Wait, wait, wait. I was in the car with you. Your exact words were ‘Baby, just shimmy that fat ass through the doggy door. You’ll fit. I PROMISE.” Sam called him out, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/n. I was there. This is totally Colby’s fault.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, brother!” Colby laughed. “Okay, fine. I definitely told her it would work and it definitely didn’t. And if anyone remembers Y/n doing an Instagram live saying she was bored and waiting for me to get home…The tile you saw her laying on is directly inside our doggy door. She managed to get the girls through the door no problem.” Colby said, holding his pecs to indicate he was talking about her boobs. “But getting her hips through or getting the girls BACK OUT proved to be impossible without a little help from yours truly.” He grinned, pointing his thumbs at himself.

“We made it to the house like 15 minutes later and she was literally half in/half out of the doggy door.” Sam said.

“We all laughed so much it took us like 15 more minutes to get her out.” Colby laughed, rubbing his cheeks. “My face hurts from laughing.”

“At least it sounds like you guys are going to enjoy sharing a house again.” The host said, chuckling at the story. “I’m sure everyone is looking forward to you guys getting back to prank videos and group shenanigans.”

The interview continued on, the boys finally ending their travels the following week and making it back to the house. When that specific interview came out, Colby had called you into your shared bedroom to watch it.

“Oh, god. This is the doggy door one, isn’t it?” you laughed, the boys having told you the same day as the interview that they had told the story.

“Of course.” Colby chuckled, pulling you down on the bed to cuddle with him. He pulled you against him, making you the little spoon and grabbed the remote to play the video on your bedroom tv. You two laughed your asses off, Colby tweeting out the interview and you two moving on with your day.

No one in your house thought twice about anything in that video causing any drama. You’d always been a big girl and Colby didn’t see a single problem with it. So, when you woke up to all of your friends texting you two links to drama pages criticizing Colby for telling the story, you were completely caught off guard. There were videos made saying that Colby was fatphobic or a bully. There were articles written about how embarrassed you must be that your boyfriend doesn’t think you’re skinny.

You opened up the massive group text you guys and your friends used for updates and important shit instead of trying to text everyone back. “Hey, I’m gonna wake Colby up so I can ask him how he wants to handle this bullshit. The pizza night kickback is still happening tonight. Everyone can head over whenever they want because I have a feeling we won’t be leaving the house today.”

You fucking loved the friends you had made through Colby.

Kevin – Your man is proud as hell to show you off. Anyone trying to twist this into some body shaming bullshit needs to hand over their internet access immediately.

Elton – The idiocy of these articles is actually hurting my brain. So, they think Colby was being a bad boyfriend by calling you “not a skinny girl”, but nowhere in the articles are they concerned that Sam admitted to masturbating while wearing Heelys. Priorities, people.

Corey – Do I have permission to post a photo on Instagram of my juicy ass stuck in Navi’s doggy door? Too soon? #toolate

Brennen – Girl, the drama pages can get fucked. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a fat ass.

Mike – Aryia said you and I should start a duo channel called fat ass and flat ass. I have no clue what content he expects us to post.

They continued to message you guys both funny and actually encouraging messages.

“I’m making a video” Colby said after scrolling through all of the articles and videos. “And I told the channel the interview is on to keep it up.”

“Do you want me in the video?” you asked, knowing that it might just be a video where he wants to sit by himself and talk.

“I wouldn’t do it without you.” He smiled, leaning over to pull you into a kiss. “Get your bathing suit on. We’re filming this by the pool.”

“Does it matter which bathing suit?” you asked, walking into your closet and chucking Colby’s swim trunks at him.

“Wear my favorite one. The one with the black strappy things.” Colby answered, pulling on his swim trunks and grabbing his camera.

That afternoon, Colby posted the video to his channel. Your friends had all eventually joined you for pizza night and Colby had told them you’d all watch it together. With everyone gathered in the movie room, you cuddled into his side and he pulled the video up on the big screen.

*Video start*

Colby was sitting on the ground by the pool, close to the camera. He was in his swim trunks, shirtless, and his wet hair was pushed to the side, slightly stuck to his forehead. “Hi. My name is Colby Brock and my girlfriend has a fat ass.” He ducked to the side to reveal you standing a few feet behind him. You were stood there with your hips swayed to one side and your arms posed like a Greek goddess. Your voluptuous figure silhouetted against the sun behind you.

Laughs and cat calls alike could be heard throughout the movie room.

Not 3 seconds into the Instagram worthy camera shot, Colby then ran and tackled you into the pool. Both of your laughter could be heard as you fell in and swam to the surface of the water. Colby pulling you into a quick kiss before the camera cut to the next clip.

You two were sat in the grass next to each other on a beach towel. The camera a few feet in front of you. Colby spoke, “As most of you probably know by now, I shared a funny story about y/n in an interview Sam and I did about a week ago. This story has since then been taken and twisted somehow into me body shaming my own girlfriend.” Colby turned his head and connected his gaze with yours, adoration clear on his face. His hand moved to rest draped over your thigh. He continued talking, his eyes still staring back into yours. “The people trying to make it seem like I was in any way disrespecting this beautiful woman have truly lost the plot.”

In the movie room you could hear a few “awwwws” until Mike cut in. “Why are you two always so goddamn cute” He was fake crying, his hand over his heart.

On the screen, Colby turned back to face the camera, his hand staying on your thigh. “The people writing that I embarrassed Y/n by saying she wasn’t a skinny girl are really just embarrassing themselves. Y/n isn’t skinny.” Colby’s fingers dug into your thigh a bit. “This isn’t an insult or a jab or said to be mean in any way…and most importantly it’s not a reason for her or anyone watching this video to be embarrassed. And I think that’s what pisses me off about this whole thing the most.”

The video cut to a new clip, the camera on the side of the pool. The two of you were in the water, Colby behind you with his arms around you. It was your turn to speak. “The problem with the criticism that Colby has gotten over this story is that it implies I should be ashamed of my body. If he had shared a story about one of his thin friends getting stuck somewhere no one would have batted a single eye. This furthers the bullshit idea that it’s okay to be clumsy or quirky or to do stupid shit if you’re thin, but oh buddy, us fat kids have to make sure we don’t embarrass ourselves. To everyone that posted negative things about what Colby said…Instead of pretending to be body positive by acting like you were somehow coming to my rescue, why don’t you actually do something to spread self-love and body confidence. Some of you have MILLIONS of teenage girls and boys watching your videos and reading your articles.”

Colby pulled you against him, momentarily upset you even had to make this video. He let you finish and added on to what you said. “To any young people watching this video…Actually, maybe some of the older people need to hear this too…don’t let anyone tell you how much space you’re allowed to take up. Don’t let anyone tell you how loud you’re allowed to be or bright you’re allowed to shine. You don’t have to fit in some cookie cutter mold.”

Before Colby could continue you slipped in “Or in a doggy door”, laying your head back against his shoulder and busting out laughing.

Colby laughed, leaning down to kiss you. Looking back at the camera, he continued. “Watching my chubby girlfriend laugh her ass off while stuck in our doggy door will always be one of my favorite memories.” He moved the two of you towards the camera, resting his chin on your shoulder. “And how shitty would it have been if this wonderful human here in my arms wasn’t able to laugh at it because she was too self-conscious or worried that she was somehow embarrassing me.”

Colby kissed your cheek. You smiled and started talking. “Don’t let some fake, unattainable, BS beauty or body standard steal the joy out of your moments. If you spend your whole life worried about what other people are thinking about you, you’re going to miss out on so much.”

“People can say whatever they want about my relationship.” Colby said, smiling. “I don’t really care, at this point. I’m happy.”

*Video end*

Claps, cheers, and awws could be heard from everyone sprawled out in the movie room.

“I am seriously impressed with how you guys handled that.” Elton said, reaching over to pat Colby on the back.

“I like that you guys kept it funny, too. It’s very you.” Kat said.

“I’m not gonna lie. I heard everything you said, but I really just stared at y/n’s boobs the whole video.” Tara laughed.

“I wondered why your mouth was hanging open the whole time.” Jake teased her.

“I was definitely distracted while editing it.” Colby chuckled.

“Do you think it will get good feedback?” Sam asked.

“Yes and no.” you answered.

“Why no?” Colby asked.

“Well, it’ll get praise for being ballsy and honest, and it’ll get talked about because it’s about body image. Plus, we’re cute as fuck” You laughed. “But you’ll always get those people who feel like they have to tell you who you should be dating. I’ll get comments about how I really should have been wearing a one piece or that I’d be so pretty if I dropped a few pounds.”

“Miserable people hate seeing other people happy.” Mike said.

“Exactly.” You agreed.

“Well those fuckers can unsubscribe then.” Colby said, holding you a bit tighter. “I’ve got my happy right here and I’m not letting her go.”

[prorevenge]

Sexually harass me and think you're getting away with it? Find out that I get by with a little help from my friends.

First post, and a REALLY long one, I’m so sorry. Obviously on a throwaway.

This was awhile ago, way before the Me Too movement, before stuff like this was taken seriously. Additionally I feel a need to re-iterate that this was not revenge wrought solely by myself, but also by some of the fantastic guys I worked with, and the brave women who also stepped forward. They deserve credit as well.

TL;DR at the bottom.

---

I was working and going to college in a high-tourism area in one of the lower states, getting my Bachelor’s in Hospitality. I loved the company I worked for, and my university was practically partnered with them, so initially my life wasn’t super hectic. Go to class, go to work, and go home. At some point though, the branch of the company I was working for started to cut hours, a lot. As a part-timer, this meant I was among the first to have their hours chopped. Around this time, I was also told that I needed a third internship for my degree, and it couldn’t be in the same place I had been in. (They had already counted that position as internship #2) Because of this, and helped by the fact that I was barely getting by with my reduced paychecks, I went to the career center to ask about jobs in the area, and they recommended me to a nearby golf course that needed employees.

Relevant Info: To explain the backstory on the management of this golf course: it was run by a third party management company, operating under the umbrella of a massive hospitality company. This is not unusual for golf courses, the golf industry was/is hurting and frankly this is the only way for most of them to break even. While I was technically working directly for this third party, I was also listed as a “contractor” for the large umbrella company.

My upper boss, the director, was okay, if not a little oblivious. The assistant director under him was a jerk, and the string of supervisors under him were hit or miss. When I started, I was the only woman on the operations side of the team. You had several groups: The pro shop guys (also supervisors), the beverage/snack girls that ran the snack stand and the carts that buzzed around the course, the course starters (usually older, retirement age, been with the company a long time), and the ground operations group (where I was). Most of the ops guys were wary of me at first, but after they saw that I was willing to do as much of the manual labor as they did, they accepted me. I didn’t love my job, but it was a paycheck and it counted for my degree. It was a lot of manual labor: lifting clubs, baskets of practice balls, running from one spot to another, shifting golf carts around throughout the day, driving big course equipment, and lots of guest interaction. Everything was okay, and I was learning a lot, until one of the older ops guys (let’s call him Bob) got promoted to supervisor.

Bob had been stellar as an operations guy, but around the time he got this promotion, his wife also filed for divorce. His home life took a steep nose dive, and unfortunately it carried over to his work ethic. We all felt bad for him, and initially tried to help as much as we could. As time went on though, Bob went from being sad and depressed, to being an outright asshole. He was in his mid-40’s and started crashing gatherings with all of us 20-somethings. This wouldn’t have been an issue, except he started aggressively trying to pick up girls wherever we went. He became the textbook case of the sleazy guy that would get roaring drunk, and complain “She didn’t respond to my creepy flirtations, so she must be a b*tch”. I stopped going to these group outings for this reason, along with several others. His behavior was making a lot of us uncomfortable.

Eventually, his creepy behavior rolled over to work. He would be AWOL for hours, out chasing down the cart girls. When he wasn’t doing that, he was sitting in the club storage area regaling the younger ops guys with his stories of “conquests”. I tried to stay away as much as possible, but there were several shifts where I was assigned to deep clean the rental clubs, or re-stock equipment, and then I couldn’t get away. I won’t go into detail on some of what he did, but it was bad. Major sexual harassment. Some of the lighter instances were suggestive comments about my appearance, or “let me show you what you can do to your boyfriend” –with matching hand gestures. I felt I couldn’t quit because I only had a few months or so left of my time with the job before I graduated, and I needed that internship credit. Going to the director and the guy under him went nowhere, his answer was to pull Bob from the course to “apologize” to me, and then “…go on and give her a hug! See? Everything is fine now!” I felt totally powerless, but got some sage advice from my dad to start documenting EVERYTHING. Dates, times, location, witnesses, and what Bob was doing.

After seeing how the director treated his infractions, Bob started getting bolder and less careful. These harassment events were beginning happen in full view of several of the other guys. One afternoon, two of the starters that I had become close with happened to walk into club storage right as Bob made one of his sexually-charged remarks. Bob seemed not to notice them, but I saw both of their eyebrows shoot up. One of the guys started to get visibly angry and had to be quietly pulled out of the room by the other. I made a lame excuse to leave the room right after this, ducking Bob’s grab, and ran outside. The two starters were standing not far away, speaking in low, angry tones. As soon as they saw me, they waved me over, far out of earshot of the other employees and Bob. They asked for an explanation, and I told them everything that had been happening, including how the director had treated me when I went in to complain. They were incensed. Immediately, they physically walked me back into the director’s office, and shut the door behind them. Keeping me between them, they told the director what they had witnessed, what they had heard, and if he didn’t handle it the way he was supposed to, by company policy, they would go over his head and report it to the umbrella company themselves. The director was startled, but calmly told them that one witnessed incident was hardly reason to go to “corporate”, and that this issue had already been “handled”. This was when I finally chimed in, re-iterating that the sexual harassment had only gotten worse, that I had a 4 page word document at home with countless time stamps and witnesses, along with the record of how he previously “handled” my complaint. A document that I would not hesitate to email to whoever needed proof, per the starters’ advice. We saw the blood physically drain from his face, and he asked us to step out so he could make a phone call. I ended up finishing the rest of my shift with the starters, then went home.

When I showed up the next afternoon, the jerk under the director came out and asked that I run back home to get a copy of my reporting’s. He also said that we had to sit in on a group call with the umbrella hospitality company in about 2 hours. During this time, they sent Bob out to monitor the course so he wouldn’t get suspicious. What I didn’t know, and found out during the meeting, is that in the span of one evening and morning, the other cart girls had somehow gotten wind of my report being taken seriously by the director. (I suspect the starters mentioned it to them)They came in, nearly the entire female snack staff, to pile on their own harassment claims. It was no longer one minor female “peon” reporting him, it was now a massive group. The director knew they had a problem. The umbrella company requested that I read my entire record during the call, and when I got to the bit about the “hug and apology” that the director had requested, he looked like he wanted to become one with the carpet in his office. When the call ended, the voices in the phone requested to speak with the director alone, and the rest of us (me, assistant director, starters, and the third party company rep that had been asked to come in) filed out of the room. After about 10 minutes, we were called back in. The director was silent and pale, and the voice in the phone promised me that I wouldn’t be bothered anymore by Bob, and to contact them directly if I had any further problems.

They sent me out to the other side of the course, to keep me away, while they then called Bob in to the office. I didn’t witness what happened, but I was told later that Bob came storming out of the office after about 10 minutes, kicking golf carts and throwing things as he left. Yelling out to the other ops guys in the vicinity that “all women are b*tches!” as he went to his car. Not only had been fired, but he was further statused as a no-rehire, and BANNED, with/from ALL the courses (run by both the umbrella company and the third party, who owned/operated a sizeable list of properties) in the area. The director eventually was transferred out to a smaller course, and the jerk under him was moved as well. We got a much better management team in to replace them, and I was able to finish my time with the company with no further issues. I am happy to say that I still keep in touch with the starters and other guys to this very day.

TL;DR I was continuously sexually harassed by my supervisor, but was finally able to get justice with the help of my coworkers, and he lost his job while also being blacklisted from all courses in the area.

(source) (story by Iwritenovels1234)

[gascon-en-exil]

Lords and their Knights: When FE Chivalry Goes Gay

@mwritesink prompted me to write about my favorite tropes in FE and how they evolved over the course of the series. I already crossed a few others off in an earlier post, but this one is a particular favorite of mine where M/M romance in this series is concerned and one I felt had enough examples to constitute a piece of its own. Let it not be said that this is merely the gay variation on the well-worn heterosexual romance trope of a lady and her knight (ex. Eirika/Seth), because negotiating the fundamental power imbalance in this type of relationship takes on different dimensions when both parties are male. I draw a closer comparison to courtly love, which in the traditional sense is also socially transgressive (being adulterous) and not consummated via marriage or other public means...which in FE terms means an S support and possibly a eugenics baby. A vassal in love with his lord rather than his lord’s wife is not only cutting the female intermediary out of what can already be a very homoromatic scenario, but it’s directly tangling together a kind of martial romantic love and ideas about what knighthood/vassalage even is or ought to be - two topics FE loves to explore. I’ve therefore compiled a few of the most notable examples of this trope across the series to talk about in more detail, because if one is willing to be liberal with subtext there’s surprisingly quite a few to pick from.

(And yeah, this is also in part because I like hot rich men who take orders, and this series already has plenty of gay or otherwise ambiguously non-straight mages, thieves, archers, and their ilk without my help.)

The Sad Gay Knight: Quan/Finn

This one I’ve talked about before in a fair amount of depth, from my hopes for how a Genealogy remake will treat Finn to speculation on just what Quan got out of this relationship besides a devoted retainer and (we may assume) a nice piece of ass. The summary here is that Finn’s love for Quan supersedes anything he’s shown to feel for any of the various women he can hook up with and quite frankly astonishes in its ramifications for the future of Leonster and Thracia as a whole. It’s poignant, adulterous (but Ethlyn’s probably ok with it?), and messy as all hell once you factor in whatever’s up with Glade and whatever Lachesis wasn’t feeling about the whole situation. It is also, naturally, very sad; Finn loses his lord when he’s only around eighteen, and with their kingdom collapsing around him and the entire continent consumed by war he dedicates the next twenty years of his life to raising Quan’s son to be the king Quan himself had wanted to be. And for all his labor he apparently derives no lasting satisfaction, spending his epilogue wandering around the Yied desert and at last returning only to (possibly) pen the history he’s helped to make. 

Finn is the embodiment of knighthood loyal unto and beyond death, and that paired with all the romantic and erotic subtext surrounding the two of them - Finn as Quan’s treasured favorite, his catatonia after Yied, the obsessive polishing of the brave lance that Quan gave to him, his inability to satisfy women in some vague way - makes them the defining example of this trope in Fire Emblem. I look forward to seeing how remakes will handle them; Finn’s presentation in Heroes is definitely cause for hope there. As for the issue of yet another story in media of gay men beset by tragedy and death, I did draw up a long headcanon on the technically crack pairing of Diarmuid/Tristan that specifically plays into the lord and knight trope while also allowing Finn a chance to pass his experiences on to a later, happier generation. IS is free to take notes, just saying.

Pretty Blond Twinks and the Men Who Love Them: Perceval/Elffin and their lasting influence

Moving on from Jugdral, I’ve got to say that I’ve really been sleeping on the original gay Elibean duo. Before Raven and Lucius (but chronologically after, because these games are out of order) there was another feminine young man with long blond hair beloved of a severe-looking warrior. Binding Blade gives us the bard Elffin, who in another life was Etruria’s Prince Mildain and Perceval’s liege. The Knight General takes Mildain’s alleged accidental death about as well as Finn takes the death of his lord and lady; he turns grim and humorless, and without a dying dream to guide him he follows the command of the corrupt revolutionary faction of Etruria with little protest. It takes learning that Mildain is alive and in Roy’s army for Perceval to drop the halfhearted Camus routine and switch sides, and the strength of his fealty not to his nation or even to his king but to the prince he’d thought dead is absolutely touching in the moment not to mention incredibly useful since the guy is one of FE6′s best units. 

Binding Blade doesn’t give anyone but Roy and his harem paired endings, but there’s still a fair bit to be gleaned from their support lines, both what is in them and what isn’t. Perceval and Elffin each have supports with women, but nothing remotely romantic - Perceval’s support with Larum is particularly amusing since he clarifies that her, ahem, dancing does nothing for him. Also worth noting is that neither of them can support with Clarine, even though one would think they’d make fine romantic choices for her given their statuses and physical resemblances to her beloved brother. Their own support line is quietly intimate. Elffin has changed since his near-death experience, and Perceval is still struggling to accept that their relationship can’t be as it was, that in fact for the time being they can’t now be a knight and his prince. Perceval also frets over Elffin’s refusal to see his father the king, and he later extracts a promise from Elffin to come home to Etruria after he’s done traveling the world as a bard, in one of the series’s several instances of writing what sounds like a marriage proposal in ambiguous terms. Per Elffin’s ending, he’s only gone for a few months after the war, so their promised reunion isn’t long delayed. I’m interested to see what a remake would add to their relationship, because as it stands Perceval/Elffin has an established romance arc that deserves a paired ending or at the very least more suggestive epilogues.

Further compounding their underrated signficance, it’s not too difficult to trace a line from Perceval/Elffin to a number of other M/M pairings in the two later GBA games and in Tellius that present some variation on this theme:

As mentioned above, Raven/Lucius is physically similar and performs a nearly identical gameplay function, with the pretty blond waif again responsible for recruiting his surly but protective boyfriend from the ranks of the enemy. 

Gerik/Joshua meanwhile borrows the character of the end of their support line and turns it into a genuine paired ending, with a prince incognito recruiting a swordsman to come work for him. They being who they are however, it’s all handled a bit rougher, with Gerik being impressed by Joshua’s “swagger.” Take that as you will.

Ike/Soren may be the defining seme/uke dynamic in Tellius’s overflowing fount of queer subtext, but Tibarn/Reyson smashes that trope together with this one and FE’s power couple unit archetype plus a dash of whatever the avian equivalent of furries is for wholly unique results. Although both of them are technically royalty, only Reyson is a prince by heredity whereas Tibarn presumably became king of Phoenicis by beating the crap out of any rival contenders as most laguz prefer to do. One can therefore read shades of a courtly relationship in Tibarn’s decision to zealously take up the cause of justice for the Serenes massacre in Reyson’s place. Combine this with Reyson’s characteristic edge that even Tibarn is forced to rein in at times and their relationship comes off as surprisingly more egalitarian than the sum of its parts. Oh yeah, and blond waif dancer + premade OP unit with ludicrous physical stats and movement again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the conflict of the Tellius games Zelgius -> Sephiran explores what would happen if a gay Camus archetype chose instead to dedicate himself to an antagonistic lord. Sure, you can still recruit Sephiran via a convoluted and unintuitive process, but Zelgius is doomed no matter what.   

They Can Say It, But They Can’t Do It: Awakening and Fates

Ugh. If I must....

I’ve made no secret of my ambivalence toward FE13 dragging the series into open acknowledgement that same-sex attraction is a thing that exists, handled as it was with a lot of explicit homoerotic denial and an assortment of cheap gay panic jokes and...whatever the hell Victor and Vincent are supposed to be. Chrom/Frederick, hot though it may potentially be in fanon, is one of those jokes, making a parody out of a knight enamored of his lord and leaving it to mean absolutely nothing since Awakening’s relationship endgame is invariably S supports for time traveling eugenics babies. FE has taken cracks at the overly dedicated knight before - see just about everything involving Kieran from Tellius, up to and including his overzealous devotion to his superior officer - but Awakening plumbs the depths of Frederick expecting Chrom’s nude image to raise the army’s morale. Just..what do you even say to that, apart from the awkward sputtering that comprises most of their support line?

FE14, for all its stumbling steps toward something less completely offensive, fares little better in this particular regard. Leo/Niles is a deeply troubled albeit thought-provoking callback to the subtextual lord/knight relationship, one where it’s hard to imagine them finding a healthy way to navigate the power differential. Then there’s Ryoma/Saizo. It’s nothing special in localization, but the never-localized festival DLC involves Saizo’s ardent desire to warm Ryoma’s clothing in his cleavage. That sounds like absolutely normal behavior for a servant and not a rehash of Frederick’s shenanigans, uh huh. Fates may indeed be said to be slightly better about playing palpable homoerotic tension for drama rather than comedy...but only slightly.

Paving the Way for an OT3: The Deliverance

This is, incidentally, yet another reason to appreciate Echoes for doing so much to redeem the 3DS games in the realm of (male) queer content. Yes, there’s a large and unaddressed divide between the openly gay and very modern Leon and the heavily subtextual faux-historical queerness of the Deliverance, but taken independently the two presentations work for what they’re each separately aiming to be. Among Clive’s gay entourage are not one but two men who’d dearly love to be the knight to his lord, and Forsyth’s strong desire to put Clive on a pedestal evokes the earlier spoofs of this kind of relationship precisely because Forsyth is that kind of vassal, the kind that would read Ribald Tales of the Faith War and cry like a heavily erect virgin bottom getting his first taste of dick at the brief interludes of tender manly love between Quan and Finn. He’s played for comedy just as much as Kieran or Frederick are, and yet Echoes comes across as less down on the concept as a whole for several reasons, being that

1) Python’s snark over Forsyth’s attraction to both Clive and Lukas is genuinely funny, much more so than when it’s the object of these affections quietly groaning his way through them,

2) Lukas is also there, and his desire to be Clive’s beloved knight is not played for comedy at all but is allowed to be unrealistic and unsatisfying because Clive will never get it,

3) everyone wants to screw Clive for some reason, not just his subordinates but also his sister and the estranged BFF who dies in his arms...and the guy is shown to be unworthy of all of them, and

4) all the characters involved are allowed other avenues for romantic attraction outside of a lord who’s just not that into them. Forsyth has Python, Lukas has both of them as friends and possibly more later, Clair has Gray (...at least he’s not her brother?), and Fernand has a bad rebound that goes to hell in the manner of Zelgius and Sephiran but at least ends with him getting to reconcile with his former friend before he dies. 

The setup for the Deliverance’s overarching queerness is a bit strange as it rests on all these characters somehow finding Clive attractive, but nonetheless it makes for an unexpected and refreshing critique of the lord and knight trope, given a situation where the lord just isn’t that into it and in fact doesn’t seem to realize that he can be into it. It’s a good reminder that this isn’t a particularly good dynamic for a stable and lasting relationship, and that as hot as it can be it takes more than impassioned one-way devotion to make it work in the long term.

The good news if you’re into this kind of relationship like I am is that it’s a trope with some life in it yet. Echoes came at it strong, and prerelease information on Three Houses suggests a few possibilities for this dynamic in that game. I’m especially keeping my eye on Dimitri and Dedue, whose relationship appears to contain echoes of the original duo of Quan and Finn. I highly doubt there will be anything on the level of S supports acknowledging this type of attraction, but I’ll settle for some suggestive A supports.

[amyscascadingtabs]

december, 2016

read on ao3

“Okay, so, first of all - one could argue John McClane learns the spirit of Christmas”, Jake lists reading from his phone. He's sitting in a cross-legged position on the bedroom floor, supposedly assisting Amy with arranging their now shared closet, though for the last five minutes it's been a lot less arranging and a lot more arguing why Die Hard is a Christmas movie. “You have to sacrifice for your family.”

“Far-fetched.”

“The scene where he's coming down the elevator shaft could represent being stuck in a chimney?”

“Hmm.”

He tilts his head, making an attempt at puppy eyes which only makes her snort-laugh. “His wife is named Holly?”

“Jake, it doesn’t matter how many arguments you steal from the internet.” She shakes her head, putting yet another blue plaid shirt on the IKEA hanger and hanging it in his newly acquired half of the wardrobe. “Die Hard is an action movie, not a Christmas movie, and we said Christmas movies and popcorn for our first movie night living together.”

“True, true”, he admits. “But consider this - I really want to watch Die Hard.”

“Babe, you always really want to watch Die Hard.”

“Also true.” He runs his fingers through the unusually neat hair and leans back against the wall. “I’ll come up with a better argument. Just tired after today.”

After the day they’ve had, Amy figures their mutual exhaustion is justified. They were up at six to drink coffee and eat a quick breakfast before finishing packing the last of his belongings into cardboard boxes. After packing, they had help by Terry to carry the last pieces of Jake’s furniture to a moving truck in order for them to find their new temporary home at a second-hand store. The remaining massage chair and the infamous, just turned one year old, mattress got crammed into Amy’s car. After carrying them into the elevator and to their new assigned spots in the apartment, they handed Jake’s old key back to Gina and got to work on unpacking boxes. Granted, there’s been a few breaks for necessities such as pizza and orange soda for lunch, and Amy may have given into her boyfriend’s suggestion of investigating whether her kitchen counters were equally good for sex now when they were also his (they were), but overall she would still place their productivity level rather high on the scale today. Once they’re finished with arranging the closet, they’ll officially have moved in together. Just a few shirts more and she’s done.

“You really own a ridiculous amount of plaid”, she remarks as she hangs up what must be at least number twenty. “You sure you need all of these?”

“They’re part of my iconic fashion style.” He gasps, his eyes widening for a moment. “Don’t tell me you don’t like my flannels!”

“You know I love your flannels! I’m just saying, there are a lot of them.”

“I can throw some out if it’d make you happy”, he promises, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “Just say the word.”

She can’t help but smile at his offer, bending down to give him a quick peck to the lips. “Maybe another day. We’re almost done with this.”

“And then we watch Die Hard.”

“You’re still just stealing the arguments from the internet, babe. Come up with something original and I’ll consider it.”

“Fine, challenge accepted.” He pockets his phone with a grin. “Let’s see. Die Hard for me means… being home. Chilling on the couch after an exhausting day with the best movie made in the entire Universe.” Amy rolls her eyes, but lets him continue. “So watching it here with you tonight would mean that this is my home now. Make it official, you know?”

She’s not sure what it is - the actual segment of a decent personal argument in his story, the ever so smug but equally adorable look on his face as he delivers it, or simply sheer unadulterated excitement over the fact that she's now living together with Jake Peralta - but it makes her let go of the second to last flannel and press her lips to his without warning. She cups his face, kisses him until they're both breathless, laughs against his lips when the movements take a temporary break. She feels him smiling against hers and it makes her own smile wider as a direct consequence, her entire body reacting to the safe haven and excellence that is kissing her partner, boyfriend and now cohabitant.

“What was that for?” He asks, still a little out of breath, when she retreats to finish the work.

“Nothing.” She blushes. “Just - you were being really cute.”

“Oh.” He doesn't answer directly, the initial confounded expression on his face changing gradually into one of pride. “I am very cute, that's true.”

“Ever heard of humility?”

“Never needed it. So does the kiss mean I win the argument? We watch Die Hard?”

“Fine”, she relents. “But I draw the line at calling it a Christmas movie!”

“It’s literally set on Christmas Eve!”

“It’s still an action movie! It’s got no Christmas-y themes!”

“Hey! I’m the one who gave up my apartment.” Jake gives her a meaning look before standing up and placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You did”, she admits with reluctance, placing her arms around his chest to draw him closer. “Welcome home, babe.”

“Thanks.” He’s trailing kisses along her neck and throat, the air against her skin tickling as he speaks. “Hope you’re ready to see this cuteness every day.”

Technically, it shouldn’t make too much of a difference to Amy. They have been colleagues and partners with their desks placed across from each other for six years. They dated for almost a year before Florida, spent six torturous months apart before reuniting and have spent merely a handful of nights apart since then. She’s grown so accustomed to his presence near her she struggles to fall asleep without his body warmth in the same bed, finds the kitchen empty in the mornings he’s not sitting on the counter inhaling coffee from her espresso machine, yet the thought of every day is enough to start a Fourth of July-style firework display in her chest.

“I think I’ll live”, she tells him. “You want to break in the mattress in its new bed now?”

His eyes sparkle. “Then Die Hard.”

A nagging feeling of what have I done flashes before her eyes, but disappears post-haste when she sees the familiar over-excited grin.

“Fine, then Die Hard.”

A little over an hour later, when they've eaten their takeout and taken their positions on the couch in front of the action classic, she's bone-tired from the day they've had but happier than ever.

Every day.

Being a realist through and through and working in the both risky and unique field they do, she suspects there’ll be exceptions, but for all the days the Universe will allow it, she will spend her days with him.

His hand resting on her thigh, his legs tangled with hers, his shoulder as the best pillow and him feeding her popcorn as they watch.

It's domestic and genuine and comfortable in all ways imaginable, reducing her fear of the seemingly definite words to microscopical size.

She'll draw the line at calling Die Hard a Christmas movie, though.

[theodorasutton]

Digital Anthropology and Formula 1

This blogpost starts with my entry to the DHL competition, which offers my own way into Formula 1, through the drama and personalities of the sport. After my entry, I’ve written my ideas for researching Formula 1 from the perspective of digital anthropology.

My Formula 1 Moment

A few months ago I entered a Formula 1 competition to describe my best F1 moment. I wrote a really heartfelt description and went to submit it, only to find out it was about 5 times too long. I cut it down, submitted, but knew it wasn’t any good. I decided to share the original version and describe my way into the sport which I absolutely never expected myself to like - here it is:

March, 2018. My boyfriend had been watching the Formula 1. The qualifying had ended, and now there was a press conference.

I had never been interested in sport, certainly not one that was so clinical and confusing as Formula 1. For me, all the drivers blurred into one, some seemed to wear red, others wore white, and all of them seemed strangely keen to wear logo embellished headgear. Here they were, three of them, herded behind some microphones, giving stilted answers to press questions. Distracted and on my phone, I was impatient for the end of the program so that we could watch something interesting. "I can assure you we don't have a party mode,” one of them was saying. "I used the same mode from Q2 to the end of Q3. There was no extra mode, no extra button I engaged in." "What were you doing before, then?” The guy in red asked him, taking a sip from his drink and smiling mischievously. "I was waiting to put a good lap in…” The guy in white said, “to wipe the smile off your face,” he added under his breath, with an extra dash of sass. Was he angry, or was he joking? It was hard to tell. The two of them seemed to be rigid with tension, but keen to put on a good show for the cameras. The guy in white patted the guy in red’s arm, insisting that he was only joking. The awkwardness was palpable, and the exchange had my full attention. The other guy in red, sitting on the right, however, seemed to be daydreaming. Who was this guy in white, who my boyfriend told me was winning everything? What planet had he landed from, that gave him the ability to win races with robotic precision? The guy in red with the mischievous smile seemed to be the underdog, and was endearing. The daydreaming one was pure comedy. “Do they have brawls in the bars after a race?” I asked. “I don’t know,” my boyfriend said. “I’m not sure they can drink. They have to maintain almost no body fat.” I frowned. “I hope the guy in red punches the guy in white,” I said. I envisioned him chucking TVs out of swanky hotel windows. I live for the drama. This was the moment that got me into Formula 1. For the first time I saw inside the machines that zoomed predictably around faraway racetracks. I started to realise that Formula 1 wasn’t just lap times, numbers on a screen, and a choice between hard or soft tyres; it was fundamentally about the people. There were egos, eye watering pay checks, glamorous locations, and a whole lot of pressure. There were feuds, confrontations, and tears. It wasn’t until much later that I realised the physical toll of driving a Formula 1 car, and the gym regime that accustomed drivers’ bodies to immense forces while going round the track. I had thought drivers were just pressing buttons inside a machine, but these were athletes putting their lives on the line. Lewis wasn’t always so sassy. He usually spoke with the measured words of a religious guru, emphasising gratitude and hard work. Meditating, praying, exercising, and listening to the right song before a race were apparently what helped him achieve his super-human results. We jubilantly listened to a Christina Aguilera where he was rumoured to perform a hilarious and cringeworthy rap. “Imagine all the other drivers teasing him with it,” I said. It took me a while to realise that Sebastian was a four-time world champion. His voice was low and disinterested while he gave clamouring journalists a run through of his race. In Bahrain, in 2019, Lewis seemed to make him spin on the track through pure intimidation. After races, we watched eagerly for the private moment when the top three drivers would meet in the break room, wipe the sweat off their faces, shake hands, and grimace after two hours of ruthless competition. Was the loser completely crushed? What would they say to one another now that they were face to face? But it was Kimi who became the most entertaining of the three from the press conference that day. Often giving nonsensical answers to journalists (that started with the sound “bwoah”) or pretending to not hear them, he, too, was mischievous and clearly hated any kind of ceremony that stopped him either driving very fast, or going home. His elusiveness made me increasingly curious, and I searched for entertaining stories, finding ones about him napping on piles of tyres, drunkenly diving off a stage with no crowd to catch him, or screaming “gloves and steering wheel!” to a bewildered pit crew. Since that moment in March 2018 I’ve learned more about what really makes Formula 1 tick. I’ll be honest, I still switch off when people start talking about technical specs. But I love to watch the drivers, team principles, and pundits, when they find a way to say everything with just a look in their eyes, or a quiet dig at a competitor. I love it when there’s gossip and wild predictions, and memes to be made. I never thought I would love a sport like I love Formula 1 now, but it was the people - and Lewis’ sass - that got me where I am now.

Digital Anthropology and Formula 1

Through getting my head around F1, I’ve unsurprisingly thought about it in terms of my own research into digital anthropology - or how technology is part of our social world today. I truly know nothing about sport, so I may be wrong, but it seems that F1 is the most technologically mediated sport there is. Rather than athletes who test their physical capabilities, the drivers’ abilities are mediated through a machine, which could be working well, or could be crawling round the track. That machine has been built from the ground up, bolt by bolt, by engineers constantly trying to improve on the vision of the four-wheeled vehicle. They don’t simply drive the same car at each race, it’s continuously evolving and being tinkered with by the team and its engineers in-between weekends.

F1 car aerodynamics Rather than watching the race directly, the teams themselves watch a row of television screens. For starters, the circuit is too big to see in one go, and the noises are too loud to expose your ears to. To experience F1, even for those participating, necessitates cameras and microphones and screens. But the teams are not only watching footage of the race, but endless numbers dancing in front of their eyes, listing speed for each sector, tyre wear, temperatures, and predictions. What secret software do they rely upon to give them an advantage over others - what algorithms are at work, invisibly measuring and shaping the race? Do they have the problem of too much data - data saturation or InfoObesity - where they can learn no more, or they struggle to store, protect, or analyse the information flying at them?

Renault’s Pit Wall, Singapore GP

Pit wall display screen, from Reddit

While the celebrity drivers of F1 plummet themselves around a track several centimetres away from the tarmac - sometimes losing up to 3 litres of water and 4kg in one race - F1 is equally a mathematical sport. This interplay of bodies and technology, personality and data, is fascinating. If I were to design a research project on F1, it would ask how these aspects of the sport are reconciled. What relationship do the teams have with their technology? Are strategies based more on digital information - “The computer says we should do this, so we’ll do it"? Or do they put their faith in people like Hamilton, knowing that his judgment in split seconds would prevail?

Masculinity and aggression would be important themes. Comparing Formula 1 to my limited knowledge of football or rugby, where frustration can be taken out with shouting, running, tumbling, or even brief fights, I wonder if F1 is more of a restrained, poised sport, played behind a veil of respectability, where resentment comes out not physically, but in catty, underhand plays, spies, cutting people out, or perhaps insistently pronouncing your name wrong. My suggestion that Hamilton might throw some TVs out of a window was an attempt to understand where that necessary frustration ends up. A clip of Ricciardo screaming with his helmet still on, Verstappen shoving Ocon, or Schumacher marching furiously up the pit lane towards Coulthard, pulls back the curtain. Behind the scenes, what dastardly behaviour lurks? I also wonder how the teams would take failure differently if they were all women. After both Red Bull cars were taken out of the same race, I remember saying to my boyfriend that “I wouldn’t want to be in a room full of those angry Red Bull workers.” When Haas repeatedly have outbursts on their radios, they seem to be transgressing an invisible rule of Formula 1, that anger is a private matter. What other invisible rules are there that shape team behaviour, and create friction between them?

Haas team principle Gunther Steiner’s outburst at Sochi, for which he was fined $7500

At the same time, while teams seem keen to control their presentation, moments of intense emotion, and authentic reactions of the drivers and pit crew, give fans something to go on. How does Formula 1 balance its primary purpose - the need to be entertaining, with the teams' clear desire to maintain professionalism and secrecy? In 2017, F1 released YouTube videos of the post race driver briefings, which featured drivers sat in rows like bored schoolboys. The videos are extremely entertaining, mostly due to the comedic camerawork and Grosjean attempting to get other drivers into trouble - but the uploads have since stopped, possibly because it was too much of an invasion into the meetings. Netflix’s 2019 series “Formula 1: Drive to Survive” gave us a behind the scenes look, and helped us meet the personalities in F1 and empathise with their stories and struggles. In the recent On The Marbles podcast, Lee McKenzie explains that one reason why AutoSport is going out of print is the on-brand messages from the teams are too bland and repetitive for the price of the magazine. My own entry to the DHL competition displays my feeling that the sport needs drama to continue. This tension plays out everywhere. As the stewards continue to penalise small errors in driving, they curtail more of the scrappy, fight-y racing that the drivers seem to enjoy as much as the spectators, resulting in races that are “boring” and “processional.” Rather than relying on printed interviews, fans may be turning to social media to connect more closely with the characters in the sport. Through Instagram, Reddit, and YouTube, fans create memes based on the funniest moments on and off track, some of which endure for months.

Left: A fan’s take on Haas’ “I think Ericsson hit us”. Right: The radio message to Kimi Raikkonen when his drink was not connected The McLaren driver Lando Norris, only 19 years old, posts stories on his Instagram most days, and welcomes the playful Internet world of memes and ridiculousness in a way that breaks with the usual “robotic monotony” of drivers. It turns out that in his spare time, when he’s not racing in real life, he enjoys racing Verstappen on a video game. In this way, through following them on Instagram, fans can see relationships between the drivers - in a recent example, Ricciardo and Leclerc teased each other on their own respective Instagram accounts during a shared flight. Technology is playing a role, then, not only in the broadcasting of sport, but in the way that fans can relate to F1 and its personalities, by viewing mundane and everyday moments that span much further than the race weekend. 

Left: Ricciardo’s selfie with sleeping teammate Verstappen Middle: Norris’ Instagram, teasing his teammate Sainz Right: Leclerc jokes about a misspelling of his name

Research Outline

Taking an academic view of Formula 1 Absolutely Totally Seriously, I would propose viewing it through the idea of Rationality. Rationality has come up in my work on digital detoxing, where in a “Disenchanted” modern world, we perceive that technological progress explains the world down to neat facts and figures. We can bend the world to our own ends, since everything becomes calculable. To act rationally would be to do things for the intended goal, without the need for guesswork or fate. 

Interpreting Formula 1 in these terms, the sport splits into its Rational and Irrational aspects. On the one hand, teams design machines using cutting edge technology, and sensors and numbers tell them how to optimise the car to be more likely to win. On the other hand, the teams are made of people, who are emotional, or rather irrational - who might in fact be the key ingredient for winning (like the magical je ne sais quoi of Lewis Hamilton or Ayrton Senna), or who might require motivating, might cause problems, or make mistakes. 

I would hypothesise that the teams themselves prefer a rational view of F1. They want everything to be predictable, structured, cool, calm and collected. However, in order to survive, in order to entertain, the sport requires Irrationality - drama, friction, emotion, personality. Also under this heading would be fate, luck, the driver’s own headspace and personal life. A research project of Formula 1 would look at how the teams manage tension between these two aspects - and I would aim to answer questions through an ethnography of team culture.

My research questions would be something like this. 

How do the teams incorporate digital technology into their work, and do Formula 1 teams rely more on technology, or on human skill? 

What norms are there around emotion in Formula 1, and how is emotion managed by the teams?

How do Formula 1 teams balance the need to be entertaining with the need to win, and how is social media changing their relationship to this?

I better get back to my thesis.

[totallynotagentphilcoulson]

A post I’ve honestly meant to write for years but kept putting off because I was overly concerned about whether or not people would be interested but I honestly don’t care so ANYWAY: my Star Wars OCs

gonna toss this under a read more though especially since I plan on reblogging this a few times, so yeah

Also guess I should also have some semblance of organization, so I’ll do them in order of when I conceptualized them. The first four are all my core characters whom I’ve conceptualized as all generally hanging out on various escapades.

Deak Idanian

- Male Human of Corellian, Socorran, and Alderaanian descent

- Attended Coronet City campus of Corellia University with a major in xenoarchaeology focusing on anthropology with a senior thesis analysis of Pre-Republic primitive lithic weaponry points and their use. Also took correspondence courses in basic starship systems and was a hobbyist racer for extra spending money.

- has always had a passion for galactic history, particularly in those parts of the GFFA considered to be backwater. Unfortunately for him, Deak is prone to occasionally neglecting to fill out all pertinent legal documents before an excavation because of being too enthusiastic. Sometimes this neglect is rather more intentional than it should be especially if stealing it from under the nose of the legal claimant coincides with that legal claimant being a dickish private collector. This puts Deak solidly in the very large category of “semi-legitimate field researcher,” which wasn’t exactly his plan but there’s worse he could be stuck doing.

- Related to the above, while he tends to try to work only for actual accredited institutions or for communities seeking repatriation, economic realities in the galaxy do lead him to working for less-than-legitimate clients as well. Or sometimes just for the hell of it. Retains a small personal collection of art and antiquities that he uses as a good source of income when jobs are few and far between.

- likes to think of himself as some sort of crack shot with a blaster. In reality, is more along the lines of Uncharted’s Nathan Drake and goes for the “try to aim when I can but otherwise just shoot vaguely in the enemy’s direction and hope for the best” school of firearms training. Has a small collection of blasters he considers his own including  Blastech A180, DL-44, and rifle model DH-17; and both a Merr-Sonn Power 5 and Model 434 Death Hammer.

- Hella bi, not a lot of past relationships but not exactly a dearth of them either. Has largely retained amicable relationships with his exes, though he doesn’t talk to one ex-boyfriend who sold a Pre-Clone Wars Corellian battle helm Deak was preparing to donate in order to fund the downpayment on a new airspeeder.

- Eclectic tastes in fashion by some standards, is a big fan of the finer end of galactic fashion when it comes to dressing for business but often opts for basic durable spacer garments for casual settings and field research

- [started life when I was in middle school as basically me but as Indiana Jones as Han Solo. Last name was shamelessly stolen from the Legends EU while the first was taken from early drafts of the first movie. Now visually less brown haired white guy if you couldn’t gather from his ancestry and the general trend in the ethnicity of the actors who have portrayed canon characters from those planets (hint: Han is Corellian, Lando is Socorran, and Bail Organa is Alderaanian)]

ELE-47G6

- Began life as an RA-7 protocol droid, externally still largely remains as such due to sheer number of potential surplus bodies in the galaxy. Internally upgrades wiring alongside each major generation of protocol droid, tosses an eclectic mix of military-grade wiring and sensor systems in when the occasion calls for it. Droid brain consists of a core of a Synthtech AA-1 Verbobrain with a TranLang III communications module with T-series tactical droid combat-analysis software installed in place of superfluous language software (which, for ELE, is anything that isn’t linguistically related to Galactic Basic or Hutteses) mated to an Intellex VI R4 astro-agromech computer. There are at least three spares of this modified computational core squirreled away both on and off ship. Most notable external differences are the heavier duty torso plating and bulkier aftermarket legs that increase both height and mobility, and the fact that ELE sometimes wears a utility vest.

- Can interface with the ship directly in a secondary body of their own design. Said secondary body is an R4 unit with an old Clone Wars-era commando droid head and the arms of a KX-series security droid unceremoniously welded to one of the engineering station’s stools.

- Does not bother with and was never programmed to have a specific gender; through decades of life with very few memory wipes of any sort has become rather fast-talking and fluctuates between feminine and masculine vocal modules within the same conversation and often the same sentence.

- Gets flirty with the crew and the passengers that tag along on certain jobs, both for the hell of it and to get something they want. ELE does generally consciously choose a gendered vocal module in these cases, going for some form of old fashioned holofilm stars and starlettes’ affected Mid-Inner Rim accent. Knows this works most often on Deak and regularly uses this fact to their advantage.

- [ELE was conceived of in my last couple years of high school, initially as a droid character in a potential fan film in which only one organic being survives a freighter crash on a deathworld that’s also in the middle of a war zone and finds the head of one of the ship’s droids conscious but damaged enough to have fluctuating vocals as the deuteragonist. Obviously never made the fan film and actually fleshed out the droid character into something far better than that, I hope]

Kolgrahgth the Hutt

- A relatively young Hutt by his species standards (approx. 250 standard years old) Kolgragth is the owner and sometimes operator of both Krazy Kol’s Certified Pre-Owned Speeder Emporium and the Rusty Sparnacle tavern, a family-friendly dining establishment with tasteful Mon Cal oceanside resort decor. He is strictly above-the-table and by the books in all business and prides self on being a completely legal business-being of the highest breeding to the obvious point of personal flaw. Much to his chagrin however, his celebrity doppelganger is a younger version of the infamous Jabba and this perception does not only apply to members of other species who are prone to lumping all Hutts together, but to other Hutts as well. Kol does not enjoy this fact.

- while he himself sticks with the letter of the law in all business, he has no compunctions about the other crewmates operating in a less-than-legal manner as long as he doesn’t get roped into their nonsense. As such he does not wind up taking part in very many major misadventures space-side

- Is the head of the local HOA, VERY vocal about violations in the color of exterior house trim and lawn ornamentation

- Kol is also an avid Loth-cat fancier and owns about 15 felines. He would never admit it to himself or the other cats, but his favorite is actual an elderly one-eyed neutered mixed-species former stray feline named Grand Admiral Biggles.

- [Came up with Kol roughly the same time as ELE, also much more one dimensionally. Originated from the thought “what if there was a Hutt whose biggest dick move was instating and running a homeowner’s association”. On another note that doesn’t technically apply in-universe the same way as the rest of his backstory, despite the Disney-era Canon now stating that Hutts exist as a species in which some individuals produce one sex gamete or the other I have and always will personally stick with the old Legends EU approach of “Hutts are giant sapient gastropods and as such are hermaphroditic”]

Jasna Vintrakahs

- A Devaronian female who started her career path solidly on the wrong side of the law due to growing up in a poor formerly industrial city and the costs of genetic and hormonal therapies on Devaron being, at the time, exorbitantly out of range and the off-world options being more effective in a shorter time-span but still very expensive. Her greatest shame was stooping to bounty hunting and mercenary work to expedite her financial growth after transitioning, though she certainly appreciated and kept the skills and fun little toys that come with working in that field. Does now balance professional life on both sides of the legal line, but genuinely enjoys the rough and tumble fringe spacer life at this point due to more adventure and more interesting individuals. Also because it’s generally more accepted for a fringe spacer to nonverbally respond with the good old fashioned “fuck you” that is a pair of knuckledusters when some stranger asks why she’s a female Devaronian with horns than it would be for an accountant or a trader.

- Depending on the particulars of the job, will often undercut her competitors’ bids on smuggling runs to the point of intentionally being deeply in the red. Doesn’t do this out of a need to repent for her past but rather out of a deep sense of the rights of all beings to live a comfortable life free from external control by privileged outsiders and class traitors. Can usually count on Deak to find one of his less-than-legitimate antiquities obtainment jobs along the way or after delivery given the parts of the galaxy a lot of these vaguely humanitarian smuggling runs tend to be in.

- Captain of our merry band, or as much a captain as anyone can be in an eccentric group of friends and acquaintances. Okay, it really just boils down to she’s the one who owns the ship, but when they’re on-board everyone defers to her hard-earned experience. Passengers can be dicks, but that’s what turning down the inertial dampeners in the guest berths during rough patches of flight is for.

- Met ELE by purchasing the droid as a gift to herself for retiring from bounty hunting, manumitted them after modifying them from near-stock protocol droid and gave them back-pay for the year it took to get to that point.

- Original ship was the Moldy Mynock, a twin-seat variant Incom Z95 Headhunter. Managed to keep this starfighter in such good repair and with a nearly pristine interior that a collector of vintage ships wound up paying close to double the original price. This made it pretty damn easy to purchase the ship that became the Starry Loth-bat, which started life decades ago as a YT 1200 freighter. By the time Jasna obtained it the ship had already become a haphazard blend of the base YT 1200 and a stock YT 1300, and eventually became a hybrid of a number of various YT models with some auxiliary gun ports on the forward starboard and port sides that were once TIE-series cockpits.

- When at home enjoys leatherworking (made Deak’s favorite satchel and ELE’s vest), traditional Devaronian blacksmithing (it’s handy to have a few blades on hand to use for barter in the Outer Rim), and pulp holoadventures. Which Jasna regularly takes the piss out of them for unrealistic tropes but is sincerely an avid fan of them.

- [Jasna started life as an unnamed female Twi’lek, then a male Twi’lek, around 2011-2012. Shifted to being Devaronian a couple years later, then shifted back to being a woman a little after that. Naturally, much like ELE, I am a bit nervous about having this character as she is. I’m cis and as far as I can tell will always identify as such, so y’know not exactly on the forefront of having the life experience of being trans to build off of. But on the other hand half the people I consider friends are trans, more trans characters need to exist, and gender as a whole is a fuck so I’ll be honest as a whole I’m pretty comfortable with Jasna being trans. I’m sure someone out there will read into the whole “gender of the character changed multiple times over the years I conceptualized her” thing alongside me quantifying my cis status as being “as far as I can tell”, to which I say...-shrug- eh, whatev. I wanted a trans OC]

A few unnamed ones that sort of exist in a void of “there for world building, may expand their characters later

Torgorian barkeep with the equivalent to Janus cat syndrome, a Barabel mechanic, Fonzi Kaz and the Boys (a Rodian singer, Bith Dorenian Beshniquel player, Weequay touchboardist, and Gungan lutenist), and a Chiss lawyer. There’s also Jasna’s partner whom I have not yet come up with a name for but she’s a cis Twi’lek artist with prosthetics. And I’m trying to come up with a good compelling Yuuzhan Vong OC too, though considering the dearth of them even now a full two decades after the NJO series began to be published I could probably go for a less compelling more stereotypical one for the first one and create a second one but yeah what I’ve got right now is extremely bare bones

[rambling-at-midnight]

False Image: Part 1

It is also posted on my AO3 and can be found HERE

Sam Winchester x reader

Background Destiel

Sam cringes when Dean sighs, loudly, as they wait for their supervisor to call them into his office. What had started out as a little prank war had somehow evolved into a station-wide fight that somehow also included the police in the building over, dogs, shaving cream, and an entire bathroom filled with bread.

So it had escalated a little bit. And he and Dean had started it, so they’re the ones in trouble, even though they’d had nothing to do with covering the dogs with shaving cream and letting them loose in the police station or buying all those loaves of bread and clogging the ladies’ toilets and sinks with them.

“Winchesters?” Bobby, their grumpy old supervisor, calls, sticking his head out of his office. He doesn’t sound like he’s in a good mood, but then again, he never sounds like he’s in a good mood. And he usually has a soft spot for him and Dean, seeing as how their dad had worked at the station too and Bobby’d practically adopted them after John started taking crazy long trips.

At least Rufus isn’t supervising today. They would have their asses handed to them on silver platters.

“Come on, Bobby, you know this isn’t our fault!” Dean says the moment the door shuts behind him.

“You started the pranks, and company policy—”

“Technically, Sam was the one who did the first prank,” Dean interrupts.

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” Bobby growls and Dean rolls his eyes. Sam shoves him with his shoulder and Dean retaliates.

Before the brothers end up wrestling on the floor (which happens more than Bobby, who claims responsibility for raising them, would like to admit) Bobby orders them to sit down.

Sam sits immediately, but Dean makes a production out of it as usual, as he always does. “It wasn’t even us who did the whole bread thing, that was Gabe the Crime Scene Investigator next door!”

“And ‘Detective’ Cas,” Sam adds. “Dean just doesn’t want to get his boyfriend in trouble. And guess how they got in in the first place?” He tilts his head to Dean and looks at Bobby, who rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but chuckle when Sam sticks his tongue in his cheek.

Dean blushes and ignores his little brother. He hadn’t even known Cas could be that devious. It had been a good move, though.

“I still don’t know how Gabe persuaded him to do that,” Sam adds thoughtfully. He yelps when Dean smacks his shoulder.

“You two have proven you can’t handle working together, so I’m separating you for the next two weeks.”

Sam frowns. He and Dean work in the same department and live together. Pretty much the only time they’re not together is when Dean’s on a date with Cas.

“Sam, you get regular shift, Dean, you get night shift. Long hours.”

Dean sits bolt upright. “Bobby—”

“You’ll survive not seeing your boyfriend for two weeks, Dean,” their surrogate father responds. “Don’t argue with me, boy.”

“It’s not fair,” Dean whines. “Sam’ll still get to see his girlfriend.”

Bobby’s eyes widen as Sam blushes and kicks his brother.

“It’s Y/N,” Dean says, grinning wickedly at Bobby’s shocked expression and Sam’s red face. “She’s our cute neighbor in apartment 67. Man, I wish she could have been on the other side of 68.”

“Dean, shut up,” Sam hisses.

“Look at this!” Dean crows. “He can run into fires with no fear, but the second I even mention his little crush he blushes like a schoolgirl. She’s not much better, either. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t even talk to each other. They’re too shy.”

Sam pushes his brother out of the chair.

Bobby pushes them out of his office and leaves them to wrestle on the ground, much to the amusement of the passing Jo and Gordon, who’d just got back from actually helping a girl get her cat out of a tree.

Day three of no Dean, Sam thinks to himself while walking up the stairs to his apartment floor, bone tired from helping extinguish an electrical fire across town. It’s surprisingly peaceful without his brother, albeit boring. The most he’s ever seen his brother is that one time Dean was driving home and Sam was driving to the station and they waved at each other. Working 12-hour shifts can be exhausting. He can’t wait until the two weeks are over.

The thing that annoys Sam, though, is that Dean was right—without him pushing the two of you to talk to each other and him, the most you ever do is smile at Sam and mumble a quick hello if you ever catch each other in the halls. Sam isn’t sure if you’re just that shy or avoiding him. Knowing his track record with girls, probably both.

Cas is sitting at the kitchen table when Sam gets back. “Hello, Sam,” he says without turning around. Neither of the brothers know how he does it.

“Hey, Cas. What’re you doing here?” Sam replies, smothering a yawn with his hand.

“Dean hasn’t spoken to me in three days,” Cas says in that deep, slow Cas way of his. “Do you know if he is mad at me?”

It takes Sam’s head a few moments to catch up. “Oh! Oh, I thought Dean told Gabe to tell you—he probably forgot—but, uh, me and Dean got in trouble at work for that whole prank thing so he’s been working the graveyard shift and I’ve been working the day shift—anyways, Jo hid his phone somewhere in the station as punishment for the whole bread thing because, well, she can’t do it to you so she’ll do it to your boyfriend, because she’d gotten her period and Gabe told her it was you that had taken all the tampons out of the dispenser thing—”

“What?” Cas whirls around, blue eyes wide. “That wasn’t me! That was definitely Gabriel!”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know why Jo trusted him, but yeah. Dean says she’ll give it back in three days if he hasn’t found it yet, but he’s determined to find it before then. I guess he’s been too tired from working all night that he hasn’t been able to call you. He’s fine, though.”

“I apologize,” Cas immediately says, standing up. “You are exhausted as well. I will try to contact Dean and help him find his phone. He still doesn’t know about Fluffy’s new veterinarian. Hopefully today will be a slow day of work. Goodbye, Sam.”

“Why’d Fluffy need a new vet?” Sam asks, amused. Cas’ bunny, it seems, needs to go to a different vet every other month. Cas hasn’t been able to find one he likes.

“He was refusing food,” Cas replies. “Goodbye.”

“Say hi to Ash for me!” Sam calls, but the door’s already closed. Hopefully Cas heard him anyway.

A little disappointed he didn’t get to see you, Sam plugs in his phone and hops into the shower. He can’t wait to get in bed.

Sam wakes up fifteen minutes before his alarm is supposed to go off. Two people are running around inside his apartment.

“Heya, Sammy!” Gabriel practically shouts upon seeing that he’s awake.

“Sorry, Sam!” someone else yells and Sam shoots upright. He’s never heard you shout before.

A fluffy orange monster jumps onto his bed and right off it before bolting over to the small kitchen. Sam can only watch with an open mouth as it jumps onto the counter and into an empty shelf, conveniently just above how far you and Gabe can reach.

“God damnit,” you swear, and Sam realizes that he finds that pretty hot. “I’m so sorry, Sam. This is all Gabe’s fault, I swear.”

Gabe just laughs and pulls a lollipop out of his pocket. “Y/N, I am offended.”

“I hate you,” you say out loud, though it’s unclear if you’re talking to your cat or the trickster. As it is, the cat soothes its ruffled fur and squeaks at you. It has really big eyes.

“I can get him,” Sam offers and throws the sheets off. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you guys get in here?”

“Well, I had knocked on her door and had a bunch of catnip in my pockets,” Gabe explains as Sam hesitantly reaches for the cat in his shelf. Unlike the abomination that had jumped on his bed, this cat just rubs its head against his hand and starts to purr. “He came out and started running around in the hall. I picked your lock and got him in here.”

“And why did you want that to happen?” Sam asks while lifting the cat out of the shelf. He is very aware that you are standing right next to him and don’t even come up to his shoulders. Your smile when he hands your cat to you makes his stomach flip.

Gabe shrugs. “It was fun to see Y/N running around.”

“You’re paying double the next time you come in,” you inform him and hug your cat, who meows in protest and tries to get out of your arms immediately. “Thank you so much, Sam.”

“I’m your favorite customer, sweetheart!” Gabe calls to your hastily retreating back.

“Please, Cas is so much politer!” you call back.

Sam can’t help but feel a small bit of jealousy at how easily you talk and joke with Gabe but can’t even look at Sam.

“Wow, Deano really wasn’t lying,” Gabe says, tossing the lollipop stick into the trash can. “You’ve got it really bad.”

“How—how do you know about that?” Sam asks, already blushing as he glances at the door. You’d closed it behind you. Hopefully you can’t hear what they’re saying, though the only way that would happen is if you were eavesdropping directly the behind the door.

“Dean was telling my baby bro about it so I decided to see if it was true.” Gabe shrugs.

Sam’s mouth shrugs open. “So that was all… you did that all on purpose?”

The other man winks. “You’re gonna be late for work, Sammy.”

Sam looks at the clock and curses when he sees he’s right. “Screw you, Gabriel!”

“You wish,” he replies. “See ya, Sammy!”

“And stop calling me ‘Sammy’!”

“That sounds…” Sam can’t help his grimace.

Cas just smiles at him. “Bobby already said he doesn’t mind. There haven’t been many fires for a few weeks, so there’s no need to worry. Please, Sam? I have the address for Fluffy’s vet, the office number, and the vet’s personal number just in case.” He hands Sam a piece of paper with that information on it, as well as Dean and Cas’ numbers (as if Sam needed any reminders) and some other random numbers Cas apparently thought Sam might need for his four-hour babysitting gig. Most of them are different pizza places’ numbers.

“Cas, what do you think is going to happen to Fluffy while you’re gone for four hours?” Sam asks, staring at the paper. “You leave him alone for longer while you’re working.”

“Luci watches him since he’s still on house arrest,” Cas answers, looking through his pockets. “I’ll have to figure out if someone would like to babysit him when his sentence is lifted. Can I have the paper back?”

Sam hands it back. “Couldn’t you just bring him to the station? There’s always officers there and everyone loves rabbits, right?”

Cas scribbles another number on the paper and hands it back to Sam. “That’s Luci’s number. And that is a good idea, Sam. I’ll have to ask Amara if that would be allowed.”

“What about Chuck?”

“Chuck’s on vacation right now.”

“Fine, go enjoy your romantic picnic at the station,” Sam finally agrees, even though there was no question that he would. “I still think putting up a picnic blanket in the vending machine room isn’t very romantic, but whatever.”

“I think visiting my boyfriend while he’s working because I haven’t seen him lately is very romantic,” Cas replies seriously.

“Huh. Well, you go, Casanova.” Sam wishes he could be as brave as Dean was when he’d finally asked Cas out. Look where it got them: they’ve been going steady for two years and the only fights they ever have are about throwing themselves in the line of fire while doing their jobs.

“My full name is Castiel, Sam. It is not Casanova.”

“Get out, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

Sam turns to look at the deceptively cute-looking bunny Cas had left him with. Dean had gotten Cas Fluffy for, like, their third date or something and Cas had loved him ever since. He had brown eyes, grey fur, and one white ear.

This bunny costs Cas more than any other pet Sam has ever known just by having health problems and going to the vet because of ‘emergencies’ where most of the time he’s faking symptoms, and is a master escape artist. He bites everyone except Cas.

Sam and Dean hate him, which is one of the only things they can agree on.

It takes two hours for Fluffy’s first emergency to start. He’s choking and coughing a lot. “Goddamnit,” Sam mutters, pacing around his room while the demon bunny tries to kill himself. “Luci, pick up.” Sam calls three times and he doesn’t, so he finally has to look at the vet’s numbers that Cas gave him. When he calls the office, he’s told that the vet’s already gone home so, gathering up his pride, Sam dials the vet’s number to ask her to help save the life of a demon bunny trying to kill itself.

“Hello?”

Sam pauses and cocks his head. “Um, Y/N?”

“This is Y/N Y/L/N, yes,” you answer. “Who is—Sam?”

“Yeah.” Sam smiles (you’d remembered what he sounded like!) but the renewed sounds of choking behind him wipe it off his face. “Sorry, Cas Novak gave me your number because he said you were his bunny’s vet but—”

A series of knocks sound at the door. When Sam opens up, you’re standing there in your scrubs and carrying a bag with your phone to your ear.

“Um, hi,” you say. Sam hears it through the phone too.

“Hi,” he responds and stares at you.

“So, um, Fluffy?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sam steps back and rubs the back of his neck. “So I guess you are his vet after all.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah.”

To Sam’s awe, you reach inside Fluffy’s cage and pick him up without him even trying to get away, which might have something to do with how he’s choking, but it’s still impressive.

“You little bastard,” you mutter, crooking a finger and putting it in his mouth.

Sam laughs. “I never imagined you cursing so much.”

“I’m polite, Sam,” you reply without looking back at him. “I don’t do it in front of the owners, but I bet you won’t tell on me. And I don’t really curse at people I barely know.”

“You barely even look at people you don’t know,” Sam mutters to himself but he thinks you hear him; you stiffen a little bit.

“Can you hand me his water bottle?” you ask, your voice definitely a little sharper than it had been just seconds earlier. Sam scrambles for the weird upside-down dispenser thing he’d never really understood and places it in your hand. You tip a few drops of water into the rabbit’s mouth and rubs his throat. He stops choking, leaving the apartment so quiet Sam’s ears ring.

“Oh, you’re bad,” you coo, holding him up. “I don’t know if you were faking it or really choking, but you are bad. I’ll text it all to Cas, but I would take away his food for the time being and put the water back in. From now on I’d recommend smaller bits of food, because Fluffy can’t seem to handle anything big.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam smiles big at you after you put Fluffy back in his cage and you immediately redden. “If he’d died when I was babysitting him, Cas would’ve killed me.”

You pick your bag up off the floor. “It’s really no problem. I like seeing Fluffy a few times each month. He’s sweet if you’re a girl, or Cas.”

“And me and my brother aren’t either of those things,” Sam realizes. “Which would be why he hates us.”

You nod and poke your fingers through the mesh of the demon bunny’s cage to scratch at his fur. “Well, knock on my door if you need anything else, all right?”

Sam nods and escorts you out of the apartment. In the doorway, you hesitate.

“Hey, why are you babysitting Cas’s bunny? I thought his brother Luci normally did that.”

“Well, Luci told Cas that he didn’t want to deal with the little demon tonight so Cas brought him to me since him and Dean are going on a ‘date’ in the vending machine room of the fire station.” Sam rolls his eyes.

You brighten visibly. “Your brother Dean is Dean Winchester? What a small world!”

“How—”

“Cas is pretty talkative,” you shrug. “And we got to know each other more every time he brings Fluffy in. Let’s just say I didn’t think someone could talk about green eyes so much.”

Sam makes a face.

After hearing that you’d already heard about him, Dean goes out of his way to talk to you so much that you feel comfortable enough to say hi to both brothers by the end of the week. Now Sam’s a bit jealous his brother got the graveyard shift, because he can say hi to Y/N whenever he’s going to work or coming home.

“I swear, Sammy, I’m gonna get you two together soon,” Dean says loudly as the brothers and Cas walk through the park. The station is closed today because of a holiday. If any fires start, they’ll all get alerts on their phones.

“Shut up,” Sam hisses, glancing around with paranoia as if people will be able to figure out what he’s talking about immediately. More importantly, he’s making sure you’re not around.

“No, I’m serious, you two are perfect for each other. She’s always carrying books when I see her, and once she was wearing a Harry Potter shirt!”

“I read Harry Potter,” Cas says, swinging his and Dean’s entwined hands like a pendulum. “I think Dean is a Gryffindor. Sam is a Ravenclaw. I think I am a Hufflepuff. Maybe—”

“Yeah, but you’re not obsessed with it like Sam is. He’d probably want Y/N to wear that shirt while they’re having sex, he’s that into Harry Potter.”

Cas squints.

“Look, I just think it’s a good series!” Sam exclaims. “And that’s nothing compared to the cowboy hats I found hidden underneath your bed, Dean. You can’t really talk.”

That shuts Dean up for a while, but the comparison must explain it all to Cas, because he gives an exaggerated nod.

As the trio strolls downtown, nearly everyone says hi to them. It’s that sort of town where everyone knows everyone, and everyone especially knows them.

In the supermarket’s parking lot, Jody and Bobby are talking while Jo and Ellen argue a few feet to the side. Sam sees them and nudges Dean with his shoulder, nodding in their direction with his chin.

“Jody, Bobby, Ellen, Jo!” the elder Winchester yells, waving frantically at them with the hand Cas isn’t holding.

All the adults’ faces brighten. Dean has that effect on people.

“It’s my three least favorite idjits,” Bobby grumbles when they’re in earshot, but he’s the first to hug Dean, Sam, and Cas, in that order.

“Hey, loser,” Jo says, breaking away from Ellen and punching Dean playfully in the arm.

“Hey yourself,” Dean replies to their almost-sister. “You and Mo—Ellen still arguing, then?”

“She still wants me to be a lawyer. I’m happy with my job. For now, at least. How you doing, Cas?” She switches her attention to her favorite out of all of them, though she’ll never admit it, and Sam and Dean shrug at each other.

Dean moves in to hug Ellen and then Jody as Sam and Bobby talk quietly. “My two favorite ladies!”

Ellen rolls her eyes. “Your sweet-talk won’t work on me, boy. Bobby was telling me all about your mischief at work. What do I always say?”

“‘Don’t get caught’,” Dean repeats her mantra, rolling his eyes. “Where’re the kids, Jody?”

“Claire and Owen wanted to hang out with their Aunt Donna. God knows they’ll have at least fifteen more toys and clothes by the time I get home,” Jody replies. “Hey, did you know Sean and I are thinking of getting one more?”

“Really?” Ellen turns to Jody. “That’s the first I’ve heard of this.”

“It turns out Claire has a friend named Alex whose grandma died when she was about six. We haven’t met her yet, but Sean already seems sold.”

Dean drifts away from the two moms, who don’t even seem to notice him leaving, and back to Cas, who takes his hand immediately.

“—but I bet there will be at least a minor one today, considering all the bonfires and grilling,” Sam’s saying to Bobby, who’s nodding. Jo shakes her head and crosses her arms.

“What are they talking about?” Dean whispers to Cas.

“Sam thinks we will get a text,” Cas whispers back. “Jo thinks we won’t.”

“Five bucks, Jo?” Dean offers.

“You’re on, Winchester,” Jo grins after checking her wallet. “You’ll have to put it on my tab, though. I’m not packing cash.”

Dean groans. “You’ve already got twenty on the tab! I’m never gonna get my money, am I?”

“You will!”

“I won’t!”

“You will!”

A familiar form exits the supermarket and heads in the opposite direction of the shouting siblings. Cas tugs away from Dean, who doesn’t notice as he’s now competing with Jo as to who can be louder. “Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of your name and smile when you see Cas. “Cas! I should have known the shouting was Dean. What are you doing here?”

“I was walking with Dean and Sam when we saw Jo, Ellen, Bobby, and Jody,” Cas responds, following after you as you try to listen and walk to your car at the same time.

“Wow, you really do know everyone, don’t you?”

“Some people we know better than others,” Cas responds, which isn’t really an answer to the question you asked, but you’ll let it slide. Cas is like that. “We help people. And people get into trouble a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” you puff, struggling with unlocking your car and holding the grocery bags at the same time. When Cas takes the bags from you, you grin at him. “Thanks.”

“W-would you like to come meet them?” Cas offers hesitantly. “Our family really is quite nice.”

You look over at the group. Jody and Ellen are talking normally, Sam and Bobby look to be discussing something serious, and Dean has hoisted Jo up and is carrying her like a sack of flour. It must be a normal occurrence if all the adults are ignoring the two.

You check your watch and grimace. The time’s not a problem, but it is an excuse. You’d feel too much like an outsider if you went over, you know already, and what would you even talk about? “Sorry, Cas, I really am, but I’m on my break right now and I’ve got to get back. Everything’s just been so hectic lately what with the move and all—”

“You’re moving?”

You nod and take your bags back from him. “Yeah, hopefully. I want to be closer to my work so I won’t have to drive as much every day. Plus, Crookshanks would probably like a larger house and what with his recent escape, Mr. Azazel’s patience with us is pretty thin. I’m getting the paperwork finalized next week, and the actual move is in two weeks.”

“Won’t you miss Sam and Dean?”

You avoid his eyes as you shut the door on your now-full backseat. “Well, I guess, but really, we aren’t that close and if you ever really want to see me, you could find me. It’s not a large town, and you already know where I work. You could just bring Fluffy in,” you joke and open the driver’s door. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Cas nods.

“Could you tell anyone you know that has a dog about the clinic’s new training program, if it’s not too much to ask?” You smile. “I’ll be working there when I’m not needed but we need dogs to attend.”

“Are bunnies invited?”

You laugh, but Cas was serious. “Again, it would be great if you could, Cas, but no pressure. I’m hoping the people here have some cute dogs. I love dogs.”

“But you have a cat.”

You shrug. “In my space, it was all I could do. Besides, I’m so busy that a cat was the best option, but I’m hoping to get a puppy soon that can hang out at the training center while I’m working or maybe work as a volunteer at the hospital. I was talking to a woman named Hannah who works as a nurse about it a while ago.”

“Hannah is my sister. She told me about you.”

“Wow! It really is a small town, I guess.” You get in your car. “I’ll see you later, Cas. It was nice talking to you!”

You pull out before Sam gets to Cas. “Hey, was that Y/N?”

Cas nods. “Yes. She was on her break. She says she’s moving soon.”

Sam frowns and shuffles his feet. “R-really?” He huffs.

“Well, I wouldn’t lie about that,” Cas replies. “She says she wants to be closer to her work. You should get a dog.”

Sam cocks his head at the abrupt subject change. “What?”

“Well, Y/N says that her clinic is opening a training center for dogs and that she’ll be working in both the clinic and center. Since you want to see her so badly, you could get a dog and have her be the vet and trainer.”

“I—really? I mean, I don’t want her to—I don’t—”

“Sam, you are very bad at hiding your feelings. So is Y/N.”

“There are no—”

“Dean, your brother is in love!” Cas yells, then starts sprinting for his boyfriend. Dean stops pretending to drop Jo and sets her on her feet, sees Sam chasing Cas, and starts to sprint too.

“Idjits,” Bobby mutters.

“In love?” Jody yells.

“Cas, Dean, if you say a word I will kill you!” Sam bellows, gaining steadily on his brother and his brother’s boyfriend with his longer legs.

“With our hot neighbor—” is how far Dean gets before a burst of speed helps Sam take a flying leap at his brother. They fall into a bush and Cas takes the badge out of his pocket.

“This is Detective Novak, may I ask what is going on here?” he asks, to his own amusement. The brothers hardly hear him over their own fighting, but he doesn’t mind. Cas’ humor is strange and rarely amuses anyone but himself.

“Well, it’s about time,” Ellen mutters to Bobby. “Look at our boy, all grown up. He’s got his first crush—”

“And yet he’s still enough of an idjit to tackle his brother and wrestle with him in front of the supermarket,” Bobby grumbles back. “All right, you two! Stop! Save it for the bedroom!”

“Gross!” Everyone else complains (except Cas), but it gets Sam and Dean to stop.

“Hey, Dean?” Cas asks, squinting as he looks at his ruffled boyfriend.

“Yeah?”

“You and Sam should get a dog.”

Jo spends the rest of the next day gloating about how she only owes Dean fifteen dollars now, and that the number’s sure to drop until Dean starts owing her too.

Dean finds his phone. It was in one of the dispensers in the women’s room. Gabe had been the one who had hinted at ‘poetic justice’ and he’d put two and two together.

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

[loisinherlane]

the half-assed fic i wrote based off of the post i made earlier. this technically takes place like... right after the last episode. i’ll probably edit it later and put it on ao3 but hey enjoy.

Harry couldn’t say that his crush on Peter was a secret exactly. He wasn’t that great at hiding it. Why should he? Peter was cute, goofy, single, and his best friend, and even if Peter didn’t feel the same, it wouldn’t ruin their friendship. And that would only be a concern if Peter noticed. As obvious as Harry was - his dad and May had figured it out years ago, and it had only taken one day at Horizon for Gwen and Anya to figure it out - Peter was even more oblivious.

“It’s cute,” Harry had told Gwen in one of their classes back then. He’d tried to sit closer to Peter when they were working on a project design together in a booth at their coffee shop, pressing their thighs together. Each time Peter had noticed, he’d apologized and scooted away. It was infuriating and adorable.

“Yeah,” Gwen had said, unimpressed. “Maybe you should just tell him directly.”

“Not yet,” Harry promised. 

Not yet had become his mantra for that year. He was planning on telling Peter soon. but too much was happening, and now Harry was an ocean away from the cutest boy in the world: Peter Parker.

Spider-Man.

Harry had a lot of feelings on that.

He sighed as he shifted on the hotel bed. It sucked. It all sucked. He was an emancipated minor, technically, but one of the Oscorp executives still had to sign for his room, since he wasn’t eighteen yet. Ridiculous. Harry had the room to himself, but it was frustrating to have no control. He wanted to call Peter, but it was probably dinnertime there - or later. He’d been in meetings for way too long. Harry picked up his phone anyway.

Missed Call (3) Peter Parker

He frowned. Pete had tried to call? Why so many times?

Harry Osborn Hey, saw you called. Everything okay?

Peter Parker Yes, don’t worry.

Don’t worry. That was pretty innocuous. But three calls? Harry had a bad feeling about this.

Harry Obsorn So why’d you call? You need help with your homework? I can help now, since we’re not academic rivals anymore. ;P

Peter Parker I do not require assistance.

But thank you for the offer. <3

Harry felt his heart speed  up. A heart. Peter had sent a heart. Was that--?

That bad feeling came back, overtaking the flutter in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t put hid finger on it, but he was sure of it. Doing his best not book a ticket home immediately, he forced himself to reply.

Harry Osborn No problem. That’s what I’m here for. You only want me for my brain. :P

Peter Parker And your face. It is adequately symmetrical, and your manner of dress is aesthetically pleasing.

Uh. What.

Harry Osborn You okay, Pete?

Peter Parker. Yes. Do you not wish for me to give you compliments?

If that feeling hadn’t been so strong, Harry would have, “Please, yes,” and thought of his many, many opinions on Peter’s appearance. His fingers started moving to reply before he stopped himself. Something just wasn’t right. Peter wasn’t acting... like Pete.

Peter Parker My apologies.

I thought you would appreciate it. It is difficult to be so far apart from my boyfriend.

If Harry hadn’t been lying on the bed, his phone would have clattered to the floor. Had Peter just-- Had he said--? But--

No. That didn’t make any sense. Peter wouldn’t be bold enough to ask him out like that. 

Harry Osborn. Hey, Pete, why’d you call me earlier? Was it about your birthday next week?

Peter Parker No, not that. I merely wished to hear your voice. I miss the sound.

Sweet. But Peter’s birthday was months away. This wasn’t Peter Parker.

Harry Osborn Video chat? So I can see your face?

I only have a few minutes because it’s late here. But I’d like to see you.

Peter Parker Certainly.

When Pete’s face appeared on the screen, Harry was sure. Peter’s face smiled at him, but it wasn’t crooked and dorky, like Pete’s smile was. The mole by his eye was there, but his eyes were sharp, not bright. He looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes, and a few bruises colored the side of his cheek, probably from Spider-Man stuff. Pete always yawned when he was tired and stretched like a cat. This Peter sat still, calm.

“Hello, Harry,” he said, voice too careful, too deliberate.

Harry had to think quickly. “Pete. You look awful. You need to rest.”

This Peter shrugged. “I do not mind, as I am speaking with you. I have missed you. You have been out of the country for too long.”

Not for much longer.

“Yeah. I miss you too,” Harry sighed. “I keep seeing all these cool things, and I’m like, ‘I was Peter was here. Pete would love that.’“

“Unfortunately, I am still in high school,” this Peter lamented. Harry wondered if that meant something. Maybe it would be a clue to finding his Peter.

“Hey, Pete, I meant what I said about this being short. I’m beat. It’s late here. Why don’t we both get some rest?” Harry suggested. He needed time to pack and toss all his responsibilities onto the Oscorp executives. With any luck, he’d e back in New York in a day.

“Yes, of course,” this Peter agreed, smiling awkwardly before he disappeared, as if he were eager to get off the phone. Did he suspect that Harry was onto him? Maybe. But that didn’t matter. When Harry figured out what happened to his Pete, he was going to find. He was not going to lose Peter.

He’d already lost his father. No one would take Peter from him.