#the whole thing reeks of fucking double standards

[fromdusttosoil]

There is something very ironic about the same people who told me i need to learn how to set boundaries going and crossing every single one i set for myself.

[the32ndbeat]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟛 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft twice’s tzuyu, loona’s haseul )

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual harassment, mature themes, mentions of drugs, smoking, extreme views, misogyny, yandere themes

a/n: unedited! it’s been forever since I updated this but also considering if I should turn this into a tbz series at my tbz writing blog so we’ll see how this goes.

taglist: I don’t have one yet and I’m seeing how this does since I’m thinking whether I should convert it into a tbz series. Please do lemme know if you guys want to see this continued!

disclaimer: everything written here is FICTIONAL and I am in no way saying that the mentioned characters act like that irl!

masterlist  

(inspired by netflix’s you and the book of the same name by caroline kepnes)

The first thing that registers in my mind is how fucking loud this place is. Seriously, what is it with college parties and their inherent need to blast music loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood within a five mile radius? Before I even step within the premises or even make it to the front yard, the whole fraternity house seemed to shake from the loudness of the bass-boosted music when viewed from a distance away. I even had to squint as I approach, the strings of fluorescent party lights draped all over the place glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look straight.

A few drunk college frat boys stumble past me, their hair sticky and messy with sweat and their breaths reeking of cheap alcohol. Their steps are wobbly and I can even see drool and remnants of vomit hanging at the corner of their mouths. My heart clenches with pure disgust and I grit my teeth as I watch them laugh out loud over nothing, their brains a pink, unintelligent mush in their skulls, probably rotted by endless drinking and fucking. All part of the college frat experience.

I wonder if they enjoy being a complete waste of space while wasting mummy and daddy’s money to put them through college.

I look away and ignore the growing irritation in me. This is the sort of party your friends wanted you to go with them to? I thought your friends were bad influences but scratch that, they’re fucking horrible. They taint you, taint your innocence and put you at risk around such dangerous men who do not deserve to be even a mile within your presence. As I walk closer, the house looks even more hideous up close.

It’s decorated in the worst way I’ve seen a house decorated. It’s as if someone threw a bunch of random fairy lights bought in the brightest, blinding neon colours that simply do not go together over a sloppy looking house and the front yard is littered with empty, red plastic cups and is that a discarded bra I see over there?

I tiptoe over the trash laying around on the grass and try to avoid the gyrating bodies of college students who clearly have no sense of rhythm. My skin feels grimy within just a few minutes of being here and I can’t wait to leave but there is no way I’m leaving when I know that you will be here. The thought of you being surrounded by such vermins makes me sick to the stomach and I want to get you out of here. The only place you should rightfully be, is at my place where there are no revolting men who only love to drink cheap alcohol, party till sunrise, get high off smoking a blunt, yell ‘turn up!’ every few minutes as if it’s muscle memory in their tiny, almost non-existent brains and do anything but be a productive member of society.

As I push through the double doors, the nauseating smell containing a mixture of intoxicating alcohol, smoke and cheap cologne almost knocks me backwards. My hand grips tighter to the wooden door and I force myself in. Inside, the house is dim but bright at the same time with disco and laser lights. A massive boombox and a pair of equally large loudspeakers sit at the corner of the room and some hip hop tune is being played while people dance and drink and smoke to their hearts’ delight. You’d never believe these kids were supposed to be the future.

Oh, how disappointed their parents must be.

A girl in skimpy shorts and a tube top looks at me with unadulterated want and beckoning in her eyes while staring at the varsity jacket I’m wearing, no doubt replaying fantasies of fucking a college athlete in her mind and trying to guess which sport I supposedly play. I gaze blankly at them before turning away and I can see her shift from the corner of my eye, obviously bothered by the lack of attention. It’s like I can almost see the gears whirring in her brain. Did she not show enough cleavage? Is more skin needed to get my attention? Sometimes people are so predictable and readable that it’s almost pathetic.

Other times, I might have lowered my standards and settled for a casual fuck with someone like that but not today. Today, I’m a man on a mission. A mission to look out for you.

My eyes scan the room but it’s too dim to see anything within four feet in any direction. The flashing lights threaten to overwhelm me along with the stink of the place and booming music and I can feel my annoyance evolving into anger. I repress the urge to slap the shit out of a guy in a red bandana who screams ‘turn up’ all of sudden, practically effectively bursting my eardrums.

I almost bump into a couple eating each other’s faces out when someone yells out at me.

“Hey, you!”

The music is so loud that I almost don’t hear it. I whip around and sure enough, it’s tube top girl making her way over to me. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Not only do I have to find and save you from this sleazy place and have to squeeze in with a crowd of sweaty, brainless college kids who know nothing but party in a tiny, dirty, smelly frat house but now I also have tube top girl hot on my heels?

The things I do for you, y/n and we haven’t even properly gotten to know each other yet.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Tube top girl smiles and up close, I can see that her mascara is smudged and her hair is slicked back with an unholy amount of gel into a tight little bun which only makes her face look wider and her forehead exposed with a sheen of sweat covering it. Her lipstick is reapplied and I know for a fact that she has done it to impress me. Her top is also inched a little lower, as if that makes her anymore appealing.

I smile in a dismissive way, in a way that showed that I cared, but not really.

“Hey,” I reply flippantly.

“Crazy party huh?” She grins, satisfied that she’s got my attention now. Women.

I let my eyes drift to her breasts and look back up at her expectant, puppy dog eyes that are so eager to please it’s actually embarrassing.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name? I’m Meg.”

“I’m Jaehyun.”

“You part of any sports team in school?” And just like that I know that tube top girl must have had fantasies of fucking a college athlete.

So predictable.

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team.” I say and her smile widens, a playfulness in her eyes as she leans her chest in closer in what was meant to be a sexy gesture.

“Oh, is that so? I’ve never really talked to a competitive swimmer before,” she replies in a sultry voice and I smirk.

“Well, here I am. Am I every bit of the guy you imagined a college swimmer to be?” I whisper in an equally sultry voice. Let her think she has me wrapped around her finger. It’s easier that way. Better for her to think I’m enthralled with her and her breasts than let her cling onto me the entire night.

“Mhm,” she says, “of course.”

I’m about to reply when something catches my eye. From the window, I see you and your friends stumbling and swaying down the sidewalk, away from the party. Internally, I feel my rage simmering again but not at anyone. At myself.

How was I so late that I didn’t manage to stop this from happening? How are you already drunk? How did this happen?

A million questions are racing through my mind and my vision almost blurs with white hot anger as I imagine a slimy frat guy placing his greasy hands on you while you sit there, drunk and uninhibited in that dress that seemed to accentuate your every single curve. You look simply gorgeous in that dress and I fucking hate to think that other guys in this whole house may have made a pass at you. Why was I so late? Would I have been just a little bit earlier if tube top Meg didn’t stop me? I should have left the moment she decided to strike up conversation. This is my karma for letting other temptations get in the way. I vow to myself that this will never happen again as I extricate myself away from Meg’s clutches (“Hey! Where are you going?” She calls out and I ignore her).

I shove people out of the way and do not care for their protests and yelps. Fuck them and fuck this entire shithole of a house. I scramble through the door and maintain my distance as I follow you and your friends down the pavement and past the buildings within the campus. I watch and cringe as you seem to crumple under the weight of your friends’ arm and quickly realise that you aren’t drunk. Your friends are. Stupidly drunk.

I feel my heart relax and my stomach unclench. Of course, you wouldn’t be. You are good. And smart. Too smart to get drunk in a place like that. You know what are the risks and you are above such parties. Your friends though, I couldn’t say the same. Which brings me back to why you need better friends but that’s besides the point. I can see a few guys hanging at the other side of the street who leer at the group of you, clearly getting their dick hard at the thought of a group of vulnerable girls roaming these empty streets at night.

It’s dangerous. But that’s what I’m here for. They see me next and they look away.

I will do what I can to protect you, y/n. Even if that means protecting your good for nothing friends in the process.

All of a sudden, I see you trip and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You fall forward and I take long strides over, my legs stretching out and rushing to help you. Before your knees can hit the rough ground, I have you in my arms, encircled around your waist as I hold you up. I have your other friend, Haseul upright with my other hand tugging at the collar of her jacket. Your friend Tzuyu is not so fortunate and falls flat but she barely notices it, smiling tipsily to herself instead.

You glance up at me with those large eyes and I could get lost in them right there and then. But as quickly as we have our moment, you move away and I see a hint of suspicion in your eyes. We separate and the moment you extract yourself from my arms, I already want you back. Your touch feels addictive already. What have you done to me?

“Thanks.” You say curtly and I admire the fact that you have boundaries, not like Meg. You are hard to get and that’s what makes you so appealing. You are to be earned and respected.

You help Tzuyu to her feet and as you turn to leave with your friends, I call out, “is there any way I can help?”

You regard me with caution and open your mouth to reject me but then suddenly, the tenseness in your eyes relax.

“Do I know you?”

You remember me. Halle-fucking-lujah! I want to wrap you in my arms again but I play it cool.

“I… don’t…?”

Your eyes grow wide and the recognition seeps in.

“Wait! You’re from that hardware store right? Jaehyun?”

I pretend to be surprised when I’m actually fucking overjoyed.

“Yeah, wait… You’re that girl with the rope right?”

You laugh and it’s the most melodious thing I’ve ever heard in forever.

“Yup, that’s me. Kind of mortified that’s how you remember me but sure,” you say and your eyes twinkle but then you continue with a more subdued tone, “what are you doing here?”

I pat my chest good-naturedly.

“Friend of mine is a student here. I just came over to visit and he gave me his varsity jacket so I could try feeling like a college student for once. Never been to college so… yeah. I thought I’d like to try it out for fun.” I reply and shoot you an awkward smile, the kind you do when you try to get someone to favour you and think of you as ‘adorable’.

It works and you smile gently.

“That’s pretty cool, you’ve got a good friend.”

And you haven’t, I think but don’t say.

I gesture towards you and your friends.

“Need any help?”

You look at your drunken friends and back at me and I sense you thinking. Finally, you decide that you do need my help and chuckle, “We live right at that block over there and I think I might die halfway there. I’m not fit enough to hold 2 people.”

That’s so like you. So compassionate over friends who clearly didn’t give a shit that you didn’t want to go to some god forsaken party, so caring over friends who get drunk and don’t take responsibility, so helpful to take care of friends who literally do not give a fuck about you. You are not beautiful on the outside but on the inside too and as I loop Tzuyu’s arm over my neck and hold her, I wish I was holding you instead.

We amble over to the front of your block and we part, you thank me and we say our goodbyes and it’s all too soon. I want to be with you for longer, I want us to talk and I want you to invite me to your room but reality is often much less exciting and more boring.

“I’ll see you!” You call out, smiling as I walk away and I wave back, my heart soaring.

Today is a good day, I think and as I round the corner to the next street, I slip the keycard out of my pocket and feel the hard plastic under my finger.

Wasn’t difficult honestly. Your friends should really learn to keep their valuables in safe places, not the back pocket of their jeans.

[kraviolis]

the amount of gender essentialism in harry potter is fucking sickening and makes me wonder if jkr ever actually “became” a terf because of internet brainrot or if shes been one all along and just hid it

because i’ve talked about how she treats the women characters— all of them having to fit into the role of lover, mother, and/or pure & innocent or else they’ll be ignored/vilified (and how tonks almost nearly broke off from this before being promptly married off, given a child, and then killed within a single book)— but it’s even worse than that.

there was the unicorn scene, in book 3 i think, where it really established that girls are just inherently more pure and innocent than boys and thus were allowed to pet the unicorn while the boys werent. there’s the fact that the girls’ dormitory stairs dont let boys go up but the girls can go into the boys’ dormitory all they want. also the entire thing with the veelas that just reeked of misogyny, gender essentialism, and homophobia.

the entire yule ball arc felt really gross, too. like it couldve been fine, couldve been normal YA male protags being awkward around girls they like, but the way it was arranged was so bad. really exaggerated the separation of genders and put a lot of emphasis on “girls are inherently pretty & more mature, boys are inherently stupid & insensitive” yknow?

the way snape was excused for 7 years of abuse and bullying towards neville and harry just because he had been in love with a woman was utter bullshit— because if we’re going by that metric, why wasnt petunia excused? she literally took harry in and raised him because she obviously still loved lily deep down even if she’d become estranged and lashed out because she was hurting inside. she’d abused and bullied and neglected harry just as much as snape did, but she also willingly kept him protected and safe just like snape, so why wasnt she excused just because she still loved lily?

for the record, i dont think either of them shouldve been excused or redeemed or made out to be heroes. i just think the double standard is horrible. its literally so obvious why petunia was so vilified— it was just because she wasnt available as a mother, a lover, or an innocent to be protected for any of the male protags. she was only given more sympathy in the end when dudley shifted roles from an antagonist to a neutral party for harry, but she was then promptly fridged as she was no longer completely vilified but still not available as a mother figure to harry.

neville was the joke character for being anxious and weak up until he started getting angrier and stronger around the 5th book. millicent bulstrode was a character that was made fun of purely because she was written as fat & dumb. cho chang was considered to be nice & smart & pretty by harry up until she got offended by something harry did and then suddenly she was completely ignored. lavender brown was made into a bad person for being like, not even mean to anyone she just wasnt nice all the time and the whole time it was being conveyed that ron was making a huge mistake for going out with her just because she wasnt nice, sometimes.

hagrid wasnt fully stereotypically masculine— he cried and showed joy and baked and owned a pink umbrella and had a soft spot for animals but he was hardly ever taken seriously. he was made into a joke sometimes even by harry, or he was looked down on like he was a child doing something silly. he usually was only taken seriously as a character when he was angry or showing off his strength.

its that gender essentialism— girls HAVE to be nice and pretty, boys HAVE to be emotionally inept and strong. all the girls that arent nice and pretty are made fun of or vilified or completely ignored, and all of the boys who arent emotionally inept and strong arent taken seriously or are developed to become like that.

[anime-academix]

Natural Hair

A/N: Ah, here’s my first scenario! This was actually a lot longer than I thought it would be...but you know, it is what it is. I’m still relatively new to writing these so I hope you all enjoy these and I will be doing my best! This scenario was kind of personal...and to all my black girls out there who have gone through this, please know that our hair is beautiful; no matter what anyone says, we are beautiful and unique! Anywho, enjoy this scenario! (DON’T FORGET TO MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS, I WILL TRY MY BEST TO GET TO THEM AS SOON AS I CAN ❤️)

Bakugo:

Though you loved wearing your protective hairstyles, you were insecure about your natural hair. However, growing up in Japan, you were all too familiar with the beauty standards in the country, especially when it came to hair. It was always difficult to find hair products to match your hair texture--that in which you almost always had to order them from international stores-- not to mention the random strangers who were always touching your hair, and some students would poking fun at it.

To Bakugo, he had no idea you were insecure about your hair, because it was something you never brought up. Truth be told, the boy loved your hair. He always found it fascinating to watch you do your hair in the dorm on weekend nights. Even everytime you came to school with a new hairstyle, Bakugo would always find a way to compliment your hair, always adding that you were beautiful.

It was very rare that you wore your natural afro to school, but today, you wanted to try something different.

You poofed up your afro a few more times before adjusting your uniform. A small smile appeared on your lips, impressed with your hair’s ability to cooperate this morning. The last time you had worn your afro natural was this past summer when your grandparents came to visit, but then it was only for the weekend.

A loud knock could be heard at your door.

“Hey, hurry your ass up! Just ‘cause we live on campus doesn’t mean we can take our time to get to class,” Bakugo said on the other side of your door. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your backpack, putting your arms through the loops. Walking over to the door, you paused and felt your cheeks heat up. This would be the first time he would be seeing you wear your natural hair to school.

What if he hated it? Or thought it was goofy looking? You thought to yourself before pausing and shaking your head. You turned the knob to your door, pulling it open to reveal your spiky haired boyfriend. He was leaning against the door frame when you opened the door.

His eyes widen at your sudden change of appearance. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. It caught you off guard and you felt your face heat up even more. “It’s something different, I just wanted to try this style...oh god, do you not like it?” You began ranting, before you could finish he tsked.

“Hey, don't speak for me,” he growled, lifting himself from off the door frame. “You look beautiful. I always love seeing the many things you can do with your hair,” Bakugo told you, snaking his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

Call it cheesy or whatever, but you couldn't help the flood of butterflies that invaded your stomach at his sweet words. “Suki...” you said softly, looking at him.

“But if you tell anybody I told you that, I’ll kill you,” he defended, removing his arm from around your waist and fitting his hand in yours as you both head off to class.

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

By the time you got into your homeroom class, all of Class 1A was gawking in awe at your hair. Your other classmates were practically toppling over each other to get a closer look at your hair, some even asking if they could touch your afro. 

“Girl, your hair has so much volume! Did you try that new curl cream? See, I told you, you gotta get rid of that Cantu stuff and your hair will thank you!” Mina squeaked. Bakugo looked at you then at Mina with an obvious look of confusion written on her face. 

“It looks so soft!” Ochaco commented.

“It’s so pretty! How long does it take for you to get that style?” Momo questioned, placing her hands on her hips. Others nodding in agreement with Momo’s question.

You smiled at your classmates, blinking at the sudden bombardment of comments and questions. 

Bakugo scoffed and leaned against your chair. “Alright. Back up you damn nerds,” He muttered, shooing them away. Bakugo began heading back to his seat, sneaking in a wink which made you blush. 

There was an unanimous “awe” as they all began to disperse. All except for one. Mineta. 

“Why are you all so obsessed with her hair? I mean come on, it just looks...what the word...oh! Nappy...” Mineta announced, which caused you to stiffen. Everyone paused and exchanged uncomfortable glances at each other. “I’m serious, guys! It looks so distracting and messy.” 

“Dude, stop it,” Kaminari interjected.

He stepped closer to you and pressed his hand into your hair, grabbing a handful of curls. “But hey, it’s okay. Your hair may be ugly, but at least it doesn't distract me from your nice rack,” he added, smirking. 

Before anyone could even respond, there was a low rumble filling the room. The students all stiffened, and turned their attention to the source of the noise. It was none other than your boyfriend. He had gotten up from his seat, walking towards your desk, setting off small explosions in his hands. His face was painted with a never before seen look of anger, rage pooling his eyes. It was enough to send goosebumps down your spine.

“You want to fucking say that again, you waste of space?” Bakugo challenged through gritted teeth.

“Hey! You two, we cannot resort to violence! Let’s sit down and talk this out!” Iida offered. Bless his heart for his attempts but it would be rendered useless. The ash-blond spiky haired boy, hated Mineta deeply. He hated the sexual comments he made about you and even suggestive gestures in front of you. There were several times where he’s gotten close to sending Mineta to the emergency room, but you and Mr. Aizawa always came in just in time to put a stop to it. Calming down Bakugo was like trying to stop an already erupting volcano. 

Mineta released his grasp from your hair and begin backing up, fear reeking his whole body. “I...uh...heh...it was...” He stuttered.

“Katsuki...no, leave it alone, it’s fine,” you told him, standing up from your seat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not gonna send him to a funeral home...I’d think, it’s been a while since you’ve visited Recovery Girl, HUH?!” He growled, lunging towards him which evoked a loud scream from Mineta.

“Katsuki, no!” You yelled, stepping in front of him quickly. You pressed your hands against his chest and attempted to hold him back. “Please, just leave it alone. Don’t start anything, please...for me?” You said softly, moving your hand to rest on his arm, then eventually down to his hand.

He would be lying if he said that your voice and even touch alone didn’t calm him down. You’re one of the rare individuals in his life who can pull him out of rage fit and even a soon to be crime scene, and this time was no different.

His eyes stared into yours as you watched the rage in his eyes dissipate and his tense body loosen. You offered him a small smile, giving his hands a soft squeeze, receiving a growl in response. He pulled his hand from yours with a huff and went back to his seat.

You turned to Iida who mouthed a relieved ‘Thank You’ then turned your eyes to Mineta who was standing there engulfed in fear and...pee? Oh my...the boy peed himself, you thought in disbelief as you sat back down in your chair.

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

Walking back to the school dorm, your head was full of thoughts. Throughout the school day, you’d be lying if you said what Mineta said didn't bother you. You knew his words out of everyone should matter the least, but you couldn't help but ponder on those words: Nappy, Distracting, Ugly. Ugh, it was like primary school all over again. How could you forget all those days when the other students would make fun of your hair, sticking school supplies in your afro and even grabbing your hair when you asked them to stop. And of course all the boys you had crushes on but they turned you down because they thought your hair was too ugly and weird. 

What if Bakugo actually thought the same thing? That your hair was ugly and messy and he was just trying his best to be nice about it. You thought to yourself.

By the time you reached your dorm room, you had tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You turned the knob, pushing open the door. As soon as the door closed, locking it behind you, you dropped down to your knees, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Broken sobs left your lips as you doubled over on the ground. 

Truly, you didn’t understand. Why people would waste their time bullying someone because of their differences--and even something they cannot change. You didn’t have straight hair like Tsuyu and Ochaco. You didn’t have luscious hair like Momo and manageable hair is Mina. You hated the fact that you had much thicker hair which took you hours to just wash and detangle. You hated that your hair would shrink when you washed it. Truth be told, you couldn’t help but think that maybe Bakugo hated the fact that he couldn’t run his fingers through your hair when you cuddled late at night. 

You had finally gotten the strength to stand to your feet, tossing your book bag aside and taking off your shoes. You collapsed on your bed, attempting to silence your sobs into your pillow. You had thought you had done a pretty decent job being quiet until you heard a faint knock on your door. Immediately, your breathing hitched. Oh no...who is that? Did they hear me? You thought to yourself. Slowly, you lifted your head from your pillow and turned to the door. As useless as it probably was going to turn out, you decided you try to remain quiet in hopes that whoever knocked would just walk away.

Despite your hopes, the person knocked again. “Y/N...it’s me...will you please let me in.” Instantly, you recognized that voice. It belonged to your boyfriend, Bakugo. Oh no...okay, he couldn't have heard me crying. Shit, what if he did? He’s gonna ask why I’m crying...If I tell him, he’d probably think I’m being stupid and--

“I know you’re in there, Y/N. Just open the damn door! Please...” He added pulling you from your thoughts, knocking again. There was a brief moment of silence and stillness. You heard him let out a sigh.

“Please...did I do something?” he questioned, a slight pang could be heard in his voice. “If I did, I’m sorry...will you please let me in so we can talk.” His fist unraveled as he pressed his palm against the door. Truth be told, Bakugo had no idea what he had done. He tried to think back to the past couple of days to see if there was something he said that caused you to cry. It couldn't have been the usual banter between the two of you because you could tell when it was all just jokes and he knew when not to cross the line. 

Your heart broke hearing his words. It wasn't him, not at all. How were you going to tell him it was because of your hair. He’d laugh at you and think you were being childish. But he didn’t deserve to be shut out. A soft sigh left your lips as you pushed yourself off the bed and headed to the door. You unlocked it and opened it just slightly. He pushed open the door and before you could react, he engulfed you in his arms. You were completely taken by surprise.

Bakugo closed the door behind him with his foot before pulling away, his hands remaining on your shoulders. Concern washed over his face seeing the current state you were in. Your eyes were red, dried tear stains streaked down your puffy face. “Y/N...” He started. “It’s not you, Bakugo,” You choked out, feeling the tears cloud your vision yet again. In a blink of a moment, his face softened as he wiped away a tear that had fallen with his thumb.

“Then why are you crying?” He asked softly. Your eyes shifted down as you remained silent. You couldn’t help but chuckle in your head because it was humorous almost. Bakugo was always so loud and aggressive around other people but it’s moments like these when you got to see this softer side of him. 

He took note of your silence and scowled slightly. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on? Did I hurt you?” He paused and dropped his hands immediately. “Do you not trust me, Y/N?” He questioned, not missing the slight crack in his voice.

You shook your head, as your eyes remained glued down to the floor. “No, Katsuki. I do trust you...it’s just...” A sigh left your lips as you hugged yourself. “If you trust me then tell me what’s going on. We promised not to hide things from each other!”

“I can’t...” You whispered. “What?!” He argued back, both of you knowing full well he heard you. “I said I can’t, Katsuki!” You said, raising your voice. His brow furrowed at the use of his full name coming from your mouth. You rarely called him Katsuki. Whenever you did, it would indicate that you were serious. He hated hearing you call him that. Yes, that was his name, but even if he didn’t admit it, it always warmed his heart when you called him pet names, especially Suki. 

“That’s not my name, dammit! And why the hell not?!” Bakugo yelled back. 

“Because it’s stupid! I’m sitting in my room crying because I think my hair is ugly and a fucking mess and I don’t have luscious beautiful hair like all those other girls in this school! I c-can’t...just wake up in the morning, brush my hair and go out looking beautiful! I have to...to...go through fucking hell just to look presentable, every single day, just to be dragged down and treated like shit because my hair texture is different! Do you know how many days I came home and cried to my mom because the kids in my class would bully me because of my hair?! God, I sound so stupid!” By now you were crying your heart out. As your sobs filled the room, you pressed your palms onto your eyes, crying into your hands. 

Bakugo said nothing in response. He had no idea you felt this way about your hair. If anything, he was obsessed with your hair and impressed with the many things you could do with it. He truly believed that your hair added to your beauty. His heart broke seeing your fragile state. In this moment, he didn’t care how he looked, he didn’t waste another second and wrapped his arms around you. Once you felt his embrace, you collapsed your weight into his body and he held onto you, eventually dropping to the floor, holding you close against his chest, pressing a few soft kisses in your hair.

After a while, you finally calmed down, sniffling and playing with the cuff of his sleeve. “You’re such a dumbass, you know?” Bakugo finally said. You were taken by surprise. “Because you convinced yourself that you sound stupid telling me about your problems. How many times have I told you that you can always come to me to talk about what you’re going, no matter how big or small.” He said to you as he continued to rock you in his arms. “And how many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful. Your hair is beautiful and everyone else’s shitty opinion is stupid and irrelevant. I don’t care that you don’t have stupid straight hair, I love YOUR curls, Y/N. I love that you go to sleep wearing your bonnet at night and that you contribute so much time to take care of your hair and can do all those fancy smiles. I’d take your hair texture over anyone else’s in a heartbeat and I want you to always remember that. You’re no match for those damn extras out there, ya hear?” 

You looked up to meet his eyes which were already on you, nodding softly in response. “Good. And if you ever feel like that again, you better come to me and talk about it. I know you can handle your own, but if any of these damn nerds are making fun of you, you come tell me and I’ll deal with them.” He growled. You stared up at him, smiling. Oh you were so in love with this boy. 

“What?” Bakugo questioned. Your smile turned into a grin before you pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Suki,’ you said softly. A faint blush painted his cheeks as he tsked, “Yeah, yeah.” He smirked slightly and took the opportunity to kiss your lips before pulling away.

“I’m still gonna kill that damn grape,” he muttered. “Hey, no no. It’s fine. I’ll deal with him. Plus...you already made him wet himself. This is the third time this month, give him a break, love. If he says something, I’ll handle it.” Bakugo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Tch. Fine. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop watching his and everyone else’s every move,” He told you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. But for now, cuddles, please” you pouted, shifting to wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he tightened his grip around you before standing up to his feet and walking the two of you over to your bed. 

[ericsonclan]

Where A Kid Can Be A Kid

Summary: Violet is stuck on thoughts about a bad day of school until Louis texts her and asks if she wants to hang out.

Word Count: 4047

Read on AO3:

Shit. Today really sucked. Violet frowned deeply as she strolled home. She didn’t feel like going home today. School was always a pain in the ass but today was just worse. Marlon couldn’t hang out during lunch period and for some reason it felt like the teachers all had their focus on her, asking her all the questions that she didn’t fucking know the answers to. Violet shifted the backpack on her back filled with assignments she wasn’t sure if she’d do or not. She hated most of her classes.

Then again if she flaked out on doing most of her assignments over the weekend, she’d be stuck in the trailer. Her dad usually spent most of his time there over the weekend and whenever he was there he tended to reek of alcohol. He’d be there and Violet would be stuck with him while she caught up on homework assignments she had no idea how would help her in the future. It wasn’t like she was going to be the next great scientist or go on to help shape the young minds of America. She was just going to get by like she always did.

Violet grumbled to herself and angrily kicked a rock. At least school was over for the week. That was the silver lining in this shitty day. Violet gave a tired sigh; all she wanted to do was forget this whole day even happened. All of a sudden her phone chimed, causing her to pause in her tracks and stopping her from kicking another stone. Rummaging around in her hoodie pocket, Violet pulled out her old flip phone to check who it was. Knowing her own social habits, Violet already had a pretty good guess: it was probably Louis.

She was right.

Chuck E Cheese?  

Violet stared at the text with a soft smile on her lips. Finally something good. Quickly she sent back a reply.

Olive street. 20 minutes.

Violet was about to head over there but froze when a realization hit her. It would probably be best to drop off her backpack at home. She didn’t want it getting in the way or have to worry about forgetting it. Besides, she was nearly at the trailer park.

Violet dug her heels into the ground and began to sprint home. Her old sneakers picked up more dirt and wear and tear as she weaved through streets along the way before reaching the front door of the trailer. She took a second to catch her breath and calm down, The last thing she wanted to deal with was her dad.

Quietly Violet opened the door, hoping that her dad wasn’t home. It only took a second for her heart to drop when she saw him on his chair. He was here. Shit. Violet wondered what the best course of action was as she silently closed the door. That was when she noticed that he was fast asleep on the chair, an empty bottle of beer dangling in the loose grip of his right hand.

Violet gave a shaky sigh of relief as she gently placed down her bag. Tiptoeing into her room, she opened an old book of constellations that she had never bothered to return to the library. Within the back few pages was some money she had saved for a shitty day. Violet smiled and snatched up the money, pocketing it before heading out.

Louis gave a long, dramatic sigh as he walked up to his room. Falling face first onto his bed, he let all the day’s thoughts sink in. This week had been so boring. Sure, school was always a mixed bag but even all his favorite classes had covered things he didn’t care about. On top of that he hadn’t seen his friends all week. He missed Marlon and their joke offs together, Mitch and his chaotic fun and Violet and her iconic full body eyerolls.

Reaching around blindly while his face was still smushed against the bed, Louis searched for his phone. His fingers brushed across a pencil and a few music sheet papers with songs he was writing before he found it. Yoinking it, Louis opened his messages and immediately selected Violet’s contact name before sending a simple text.

Chuck E Cheese?

He threw his phone down and groaned as he draped himself over his bed more, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for a response. It felt like forever when in reality only a few seconds had passed before his phone dinged. Violet’s responses were as quick as ever. Holding the phone up above his head, Louis read the message.

Olive street. 20 minutes.

Louis smiled excitedly. He nearly let his phone slip onto his face but luckily he caught it in time. He wouldn’t be adding to that embarrassing number count today. Making a small sound effect as he jumped off his bed and jogged over to his desk, Louis quickly grabbed his car keys and wallet.

He snatched up a pen and scribbled a note to let his dad know he was going out. Sliding down the hallways on his socks, Louis barreled down the stairs and put the note on the table where his dad was sure to see it. He slipped out of the front door and made a beeline to his car, apologizing to one of the gardeners that he bumped into on the way there. Double checking his seatbelt and making sure he had the best classical music playing, Louis was off.

Within 15 minutes he had reached Olive Street and immediately saw Violet in all of her grumpy sunshine glory - at least that was how he would describe it. Louis gave a friendly wave to his friend as he pulled forward and stopped the car right beside her. “Hey, Vi!” Louis poked his head out with his signature smile.

Violet was silent as she strolled forward and opened the door. It wasn’t until she was seated that she spoke up. “Hi, Lou,” Violet looked up with a little smile as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Are you ready to party?” Louis locked eyes with Violet as he glanced up into the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, let's go,” Violet’s eyes wandered out to watch the world outside her car window while Louis drove. The two friends talked here and there about school and how both of them were sick of this week and glad it had ended. The conversation was light and easy and Violet enjoyed the simplicity of it as the classical music played from Louis’ car. After around a twenty minute ride they had arrived at the arcade. Putting the car in park, Louis undid his seatbelt and got out to open the door for his friend.

“Thanks,” Violet slipped out of the car and started to walk forward.

“No problem, bestie!” Louis grinned brightly and locked the car before jogging over to catch up with Violet.

Soon they entered Chuck E. Cheese and were immediately greeted by a staff member. “Well, hi there! Welcome to Chuck E. Cheese!” The staff member smiled before reaching over and grabbing the stamp and ink. Louis and Violet already knew the drill, they had been here tons of times before. Once their stamps were on Louis held out his fist with a grin. Violet silently moved her fist forward and fistbumped Louis. The pair looked at each other and shared a happy smile. “Now, onward to the token machine!” Louis declared and grabbed Violet’s hand, pulling her forward without warning. Violet’s comments were lost to Louis as his joy radiated off him while they made their way over to the token machine. Louis dramatically pulled out his credit card and leaned against it as he placed the card into the machine. The machine whirled to life and tokens began to pour out of the slot and into their small cups. Soon Louis and Violet’s arms were full of the tiny cups filled to the brim with tokens. Violet stuffed a bunch of tokens in her hoodie pocket while Louis tried to stuff the rest in his back pockets. This only made his butt look lumpy which made Violet laugh.

“Ha, ha. I look lumpy. So, anyways, what should we play first?” Louis asked as the two made their way around the arcade. The lights and sounds of the multiple games overwhelmed their senses. Each game seemed to be trying to draw over anyone’s attention that it could get.

“Strength test,” Violet led the way and Louis sighed deeply.

“But I suck at that.” Louis whined as he followed her, weaving past the different people who were also enjoying the different arcade games.

“But I don’t.” Violet smirked over at Louis before putting in some tokens in the slot to start the game. She took a step back and stared at the ball. Her mind quickly changed the soccer ball into the different things that were pulling her down in life. Her frustration and determination swirled around in her heart as she sent her foot forward, kicking the ball with all her strength. The kick caused the ball to launch back with a hearty thud as the machine rang with a happy tune.

The score flashed brightly on the screen overhead. Based on how loudly the machine was reacting to Violet’s attempt she must’ve made a new high score. Tickets began to pour out of the machine, coming out in copious amounts for this game’s standard. Louis clapped with enthusiasm and Violet looked away, a small smile of pride prominent on her lips.

Louis strolled forward and placed more tokens in, taking a few deep breaths to get ready. “Now, it is my turn. Watch as I kick that high score out of the water!” He kicked his leg, giving a loud cry as his foot connected with the soccer ball. The ball flung back with a faint sound and Violet laughed as Louis’ score flashed on the screen. It was far below hers.

“Shut up, Vi!” Louis pouted as he strode away. “You know my strength has always been in my arms. I’m going to choose next and totally kick your ass!”

“Uh huh, sure, Louis.” Violet stuck her hands in her pockets and strolled alongside her best friend who was trying to find the game to beat her at. That’s when he noticed the Dance Dance Revolution dance pad. Violet followed his gaze and let out a long groan. “Oh no,”

“Oh, yes!” Louis pulled Violet forward and immediately put in some tokens so both of them could play at the same time. He selected a song and before Violet could say otherwise the game had begun. Louis nodded his head to the beat of the song, causing his dreads to bounce lightly as his feet found the right buttons with ease. He happily danced and sent over a competitive grin to Violet who was too busy struggling to notice. Her feet sloppily tried to keep up with the beat but she just couldn’t seem to get it.

After a few rounds Louis agreed to call it quits and moved to gather the tickets when he remembered that this game didn't reward players with that. Violet quickly pulled him along, determined to find a game she could beat him at. Soon they were standing in front of whack a mole and it was clear that the evening would turn very competitive. Each of them seemed to want to prove that they could beat the other at more games and so they ran around the arcade playing every game they could until their stomachs growled loudly. It was dinner time.

“Have no fear, the pizza will soon be here!” Louis declared with a smile as he guided them towards the spot where they could order food. Louis was sure to order lots of pepperoni pizza and a few sodas. After a few minutes of trying to find a spot while sipping absentmindedly on their sodas the two found a booth that sat near the large animatronics of Chuck E Cheese and his pals.

Soon the pizzas showed up and the server wished them a nice meal before walking away. Violet was the first to strike and snagged a slice of pizza, quickly shoving it in her mouth. Louis watched in shock and somewhat awe at his friend and her ability to eat piping hot food like it was nothing.

“This pizza’s the shit!” Violet exclaimed as she grabbed more slices.

Louis laughed and nodded as he grabbed a slice to eat. “Save some for me,” He snatched up a slice of his own and devoured it.

“Eh, you have enough money to buy all the pizzas in this place,” Violet smirked as she stole a slice from Louis while he was distracted by the show that was going on with the animatronics.

“Hey! That’s a sneaky move!” Louis huffed and watched as Violet demolished the slice. She leaned back and causally sipped on her soda when suddenly a familiar voice appeared beside the table.

“Hey, Louis! Hi, Vi! Sorry I’m late.” Marlon smiled apologetically as he stood by their booth. Louis and Violet looked up, both having different reactions at seeing their friend. Violet seemed shocked at the fact that Marlon was here while Louis smiled brightly and immediately scooted out of the booth.

“Marlon!” he exclaimed before doing their special handshake with him. Louis bopped his fist on the top of Marlon’s before Marlon returned the gesture. They slapped their hands together before repeating it the reverse way. Then their fingers wiggled together before they wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders. Both of them laughed happily until they noticed that Violet was still lost as to why Marlon was here.

“Hey, Marlon. I didn’t know you were gonna show up.” Violet mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah, Louis invited me. He didn’t tell you?” Marlon looked over at Louis as he slid into his side of the booth.

“It must’ve slipped my mind.” Louis laughed and nervously scratched the back of his head.

“Well, now that Marlon is here we should order more pizza,” Violet slid over a slice of pizza to the blond.

“Oh yes! This pizza is the best!” Marlon smiled as he took the first bite. He tilted his head back and let the cheesy goodness of the pizza fill his stomach. Without waiting a second he stuffed the rest of the slice in his mouth. Louis already knew what needed to be done; he ran over to order another pizza. Once he returned he saw that the rest of a pepperoni pizza had already been demolished by his two best friends.

“Huh, that's weird,” Violet commented as she took a sip of her soda.

“What’s weird?” Marlon sputtered out chunks of pizza and Louis used a napkin to wipe away the odd chunk or two that landed near him.

“I didn’t know they had Marlon be the mascot here,” Violet had a playful smile on her lips that turned into a smirk when she saw how much that had annoyed Marlon.

“Har, har, because it's a rat and you always say shit about my hair looking like a rat’s tail even though my hair is cool,” Marlon frowned and leaned back in his seat. He had always been proud of his mullet since he’d grown it out years ago.

“I said it looked like a dead cat, there's a difference,” Violet leaned forward with the smuggest smile on her lips.

“Oh boy,” Louis looked between his two best friends, wondering what to do, when the pizza arrived at the table. He gave a quick thanks to the server before an idea struck him. “Let’s have an eating contest!”

Marlon’s eyes lit up at that and Violet seemed interested. Their focus shifted from their conversation and soon the three of them were invested in the contest. All three gave it their all but soon Louis tapped out then Violet. Marlon gave a victory cheer that turned into an odd series of burps as he groaned and fell back into the booth. All three of them silently agreed to sit there for a while and let the food settle before they played any more games. After a while their stomachs were stable enough to move again and they got up to their feet and began to walk around in search of the next game.

“Alright, you get first pick,” Louis playfully nudged Marlon’s shoulder with a grin. Marlon returned the smile then scanned the area to figure out what he wanted to play first.

“Hoops.” Marlon nodded towards the basketball game and Violet’s eyes immediately brightened.

“Okay, but you better watch out! I’ve improved since the last time.” Louis proclaimed as he strode over.

“Oh. So you can actually score a point now?” Violet smirked back at Louis as she put in the tokens. Marlon laughed at that which made Louis frown.

“Yes, yes, I can score a point now!” Louis declared loudly and Violet and Marlon shared a smile.

“I’m sure you can, Lou,” Marlon gave a genuine smile then grabbed the first basketball to start his round. He got in the right form and got ready to make the first basket. Like always Marlon was great at the game, scoring all the baskets with ease as his score steadily increased. The basketballs continued to squash into the net and Louis applauded and cheered loudly. Violet nodded with a small smile, impressed by the score before having her turn.

She wasn’t bad herself. In fact Violet was really giving Marlon a run for his money, scoring basket after basket and making her score nothing to scoff at. Still Marlon had just edged out in front of her, something that Violet was sure Marlon would boast about for the next little while.

Louis went next and struck a pose as he prepared his first shot then gave a dramatic throw. The first ball - to Violet and Marlon’s surprise - actually went in. Both clapped, genuinely impressed that Louis had made the first basket. Louis did a quick bow, a proud smile on his lips. “Thank you, thank you. Now to make the rest of the shots!” Louis yelled and returned to the game. He didn’t make any of the other shots.

“What were you saying about making the shots?” Violet teased and Louis shot her a look.

“Shut. I can still beat you two at other games!” Louis snatched up the tickets and  headed straight towards skee ball. None of them were superstars at that game but that didn’t stop them from having a blast. Once they finished a few rounds of that they headed over to the balloon popping game.

The three of them quickly became lost in game after game as they wanted to play all the games they could. But soon they realized that it was growing late and they knew what game they should end on. The wheel of tickets. Louis started it out and spun the wheel.

“Come on, let's win some tickets!” Louis bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet and gave a small groan when he only won twenty tickets. Marlon was next and he spun the wheel with all his might. He only got five more tickets than Louis though. Violet walked forward and took a deep breath.

“You got this, Vi! You know what they say: blondes are like good luck charms when it comes to the wheel of tickets,” Louis’ sentence made Marlon and Violet look over at him.

“Thats makes zero fucking sense,” Violet commented before spinning the wheel.

“Yeah, if that was true then I would've gotten more tickets,” Marlon pointed out and Louis gave a sad frown.

“I was just trying to be a supportive friend,” Louis played with his dreadlock self consciously and soon turned his attention to the wheel.

Violet ended up only getting twenty five tickets as well. After a quick discussion the trio decided that they’d spend the rest of their tokens here. Each of them took multiple turns as the other two chanted for them to land on a jackpot. As luck would have it, Marlon finally landed on a jackpot and then Violet.

“Whoa! It is true about lucky blondes!” Louis beamed and strolled over to spin around the wheel one last time. “Now, I’m going to show you that luck is on my side too!” Louis chanted under his breath, hoping for a jackpot of his own. Marlon and Violet were chanting as well. Everyone was shocked when the wheel landed on the jackpot for the third time that day. Louis screamed with joy and hugged Violet tightly before Marlon tackled the both of them in a hug and lifted them slightly up in the air.

Arms full of tickets, the trio made their way over to the ticket muncher with big smiles. All three took turns feeding the machine which made a satisfying munching sound as the tickets went in. Soon they had their grand total on a receipt.

Violet, Marlon and Louis walked over and stood before the wall of prizes. Immediately they began to argue over what the best prizes were to spend their tickets on. Louis wanted to get cool shutter shades and a nerf gun. Marlon seemed rather attached to a plushie of a rat which made him receive some light teasing from both Louis and Violet. Violet wanted to get a tiny basketball.

“Wait, wait, wait. I think we can get all that we want,” Louis began to count the number of tickets and soon Marlon and Violet joined in to help him. With the power of their three brains they were able to determine that they could in fact get all they wanted and have some left over.

After all three of them got the prizes that they wanted, they were left with another choice. A grand total of seventy eight tickets were left to spend on smaller items.

“So, what should we get with the remaining tickets?” Marlon asked as he stared at the limited selection. Violet and Louis walked forward and stood beside him. All three were studying the small prizes displayed under the glass when Louis suddenly gasped.

“Bracelets! We should get those Chuck E. Cheese bracelets!” Louis smiled and  bounced with excitement. “That way we can all be matching!”

“So, like friendship bracelets?” Marlon glanced over at Louis who nodded.

“Exactly!” Louis looked between his two best friends, hoping that they would agree.

Marlon and Violet shared a look, having a short silent conversation before smiling and turning to look at Louis.

“Let’s do it,” Violet gave a casual shrug, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t fool the other two though. They could tell she was just as happy as they were about this idea. Once they had decided on the item, Louis purchased the bracelets and handed two over to his friends.

All three of them put the bracelets on their wrists and the three friends all looked at each other, smiling giddily. Marlon held out his wrist and Louis immediately clinked his wrist against Marlon’s before both looked over at Violet. Violet rolled her eyes but the small smile on her lips gave away how she really felt as she clinked her wrist against her friends’.

“Okay, time to head out! Maybe even get some ice cream?” Louis spun around and smiled at Violet and Marlon.

“Sounds good to me, Lou,” Marlon replied while Violet nodded in agreement.

“Then let's not dilly dally! Ice cream awaits!” Louis announced loudly and led the way outside. Violet watched as her two friends excitedly talked about which ice cream they would get as Louis pulled out of the parking lot. She looked out of the window with a soft smile. It had started out as a shitty day but by the end of it all it had turned into a pretty good one. Her eyes wandered over to Marlon and Louis who were arguing over whether they should listen to classical music or classic rock. They were a lot sometimes but still, Violet was glad to have friends like them.

[varioushues]

No but -I honestly *just* watched the second trailer and--I why are you even keeping the IP at that point? Who for? No one who read the books will support that muck and at that point- aren’t you better off just calling it something else? Quick notes: Did they just kill off Angeline?

What the fuck is the point of Artemis being a trained fighter?

The entire point of the books is sort of that they flipped gender roles on their heads, Most of Artemis’s problems (physically) stem from the fact he can’t run, jump, or fire a gun without breaking his wrist. He keeps getting *thrown* into snowbanks and a 3 foot tall person knocked him out at some point.

The books always had a way of-letting the women be the muscle is a really refreshing way. (Butler aside.) But no matter how smart the kid is- Artemis not very good for anything based on his brains alone, it kept the story balanced and kept him from being insufferably plot amour’d

Did they just make his dad be the one that discovered the faeries in the first place? What then even- makes him...special at all? . .He just feels like some homeschool kid now.

Did-did they kill off Juliet?

Sure okay lets get rid of the actual teenaged girl and make the adults teenagers.

I’m not sure what Holly’s---premise even is here. She doesn’t get kidnapped, they start on the same side, she’s a *child* and gender swapping Commander Root makes her no longer the first female in the LEP so I...what is she even for at this point?

If you Wanted a--female mentor for Holly for some reason. Raine Vinyáya is an actual character that made her way up to make a path for other females to advance by getting a position on the fairy council and pushing the liberal vote for female equality. Why would you just---make her a central character if that was the-goal?

I can’t picture this Artemis pulling off- any of the scenes I’ve waited to see in film format for 16 years and it makes me sad. Even if the movie was gravely changed I’d like to have seen something of the world I always pictured.  

Artemis. Just. Has. a Crossbow. Is that what they’re doing with “Artemis the Hunter I hunted you?” . Are they just---going to hand a child a fucking crossbow? Okay.

Assuming these movies didn’t flop and they got sequels what would the plot of the time paradox be if Holly is already 14? Wasn’t that book just *”Growing up is scary- and then they kiss and Mulch is like *”Awe shit that’s--that’s so illegal, you ever try to put me in jail I’m going to blackmail you, because of how very illegal that is.” and we never spoke of it ever again? How’s that going to work if she’s 14 at the -opening? Is that why? Cause that whole thing was weird and awkward (but sort of made sense because you hold Artmis point of view and sort of have to be dragged through his puberty kicking and screaming first hand and it makes sense he slowly starts seeing her as a woman and not coping with it well.)

Edit: *And another thing!*  Why would you make Holly white then...double back and make the Butler family, a family of servants for white elites black? That’s I can’t even-explain to you that’s the worst way you could’ve possibly gone in for diversity in casting. Holly has “nut brown skin” and one could argue that’s the standard tone for her race as it’s never stated that it *isn’t* (outside of pixies and the Atlantians) That just reeks of some flagrant racism.

Okay! rant over--I just---holy crap. They’ll be more to this and maybe a coherent video one day- but these are just -live! thoughts.

[thessalian]

Molly!Warden vs Dragon Cultists

Molly: Oh, hey, are you Brother Genitivi?

‘Weylon’: Erm ... no, but I’m not sure where Genitivi is. I ... erm ... am very upset about it?

Molly: You lie like a cheap rug, dude. Just fess up; I’d rather not go violent here.

‘Weylon’: I have no such qualms.

Molly: If that’s true, why didn’t you attack us in the first place? Cheap. Rug.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Wynne: I believe I’ve found the real Weylon. Poor man.

Molly: I just found a book about the worship of dragons. Not sure I’m liking this idea. I remember the whole thing with Flemeth.

Alistair: Can ... all mages do that? Wynne, can you do that?

Wynne: I cannot do that, no.

Molly: Better question is whether Morrigan can do that.

Alistair: *shudder*

(At Lake Calenhad)

Sten: I ... am appreciative of your taking the time to inquire after my sword, Warden, but do we really have the time for this?

Molly: Actually, yeah. It’s on the way to the spot that got listed as Brother Genitivi’s last location anyway, and I wanted to double-check to make sure we’re on the right track.

Cultists: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Molly: I’m no expert, but ... people trying to kill us indicates ‘the right track’, right?

Sten: Generally.

Molly: I mean, I’d prefer to ask them more questions but it’s hard to question someone who’s questing for your spleen, so swords for everyone.

(Approaching Haven)

Molly: I am going ... up ... a mountain. On the outside. Whose bright idea was it to make the ground vertical?

Alistair: The Maker’s, I suppose.

Molly: If I ever find myself in front of the Maker, I’m going to have so many questions for that jackass.

Haven Guard: GO AWAY! You can stop long enough to rest and resupply but then GO AWAY YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!

Molly: Ah, feels like home. Did I ever mention being homesick?

Alistair: Nooooooooo...

Molly: Good, because it would be a fucking lie.

(Haven shop)

Shopkeeper: You can’t go back there!

Molly: Dude, it reeks of blood and I have a first aid kit so--

Shopkeeper: *tries to attack Molly, unarmed and unarmoured*

That Whole Situation: *ends about as you’d expect*

Zevran: I don’t think I have seen a man so entirely composed of stupid before.

Alistair: Are we sure we had to kill him? I mean, shopkeepers probably don’t like it when you go into the back room for--

Zevran: I apologise for interrupting your generous spirit, friend Alistair, but there appears to be the corpse of a Redcliffe knight in here.

Wynne: Besides ... trying to kill someone with your bare hands for the crime of peeking into the back room is only standard practice in a very few select shops.

Zevran: I know why I knew that, fair Wynne; I would question why you know that.

Wynne: We do get to leave the Circle Tower sometimes, you know. Generally when we have ... interesting patrons.

Zevran: I sense lurid tales and have hopes that your heart is generous enough to bid you share them!

Molly: Later, okay? We’ve got cultists converging on our position. Let’s gear up with the best we’ve got. Zev; here.

Zevran: ...Antivan leather boots! How--?!?

Molly: Thank me by helping me shank my way through some cultists, okay?

Zevran: I can think of far better ways to thank you, but since you are currently deflowering our prince-in-hiding--

Alistair: ...How did--?!?

Wynne: *sigh* We sleep in tents, Alistair. Soundproofing is not a feature of canvas walls.

Zevran: You make the most interesting noises, friend Alistair--

Molly: Tease him later! Hack our way through cultists now!

Alistair: ‘Tease him later’?

Molly: Asking them to totally stop would have been a bit much, hon. Let’s go.

[janiedean]

Hey, lately I've seen a lot of people hate on book!Tyrion and talk about what a terrible person he is and wanted to hear your take on that, because I don't really get it. I think that he is a really interesting character in the books, more so than in the second half of the show, if you ask me.

(sorry for replying this late I needed time to get to it and stuff happened haha)

soooo... tldr: I think *tumblr* has a shitload of issues with tyrion that are 90% rooted in the fact that this website thinks hating men is cool/that men are the worst always *and* also only cries ableism when it’s convenient or to call ableist things that are not in fact such (ie ‘omg if you use stupid is ableist’ which... automatically implies that anyone with a disability is *stupid* and the likes), and in tyrion’s case there’s.... an overlap of those specific issues added to the fact that since he’s a general fan favorite regardless of any fault of his then it’s fine to trash on him. going in depth on it:

now, there’s admittedly a difference in between book and show tyrion in the sense that the show version is a lot less gray and has cut on a lot of material in that sense, but like...... it’s d&d who after they decided to chunk the book storyline couldn’t write him properly so I’m not touching that topic because it’s not *his* issue, it’s theirs, and as you said... well obv. he’s more interesting in the books, because he has a lot more layers and he actually does something post-asos instead of rehashing the same three jokes that aren’t even on par with *his* book humor because he’s too smart for d&d to pull off correctly (I mean from S6 to S8 they managed to give him good lines in... the finale? PROBABLY? but they can’t write him, it’s their problem);

when it comes to book!tyrion, he obviously has faults same as 99,9% of the characters in these books, but all of those faults are... absolutely understandable given his background? I mean, so he hates his father and his sister, has fairly unhealthy coping methods and that got worse after asos, but... he comes from a lifetime of parental/familial abuse that crowned with tywin forcing him to rape his then-wife who actually did love him and convincing him he was unlovable, cersei was molesting him in the cradle and the only person who cared about him outside the uncles brigade which wasn’t around all the time was jaime who went off to get traumatized for himself at thirteen, and that just because of how he looks and for his disability, do we ask him to be a perfectly adjusted person? not really, and actually the fact that he tries to be better than 99% of his family all the time and that he actually has a lot of empathy for disadvantaged people and empathy in general says a lot about how he’s a pretty damn decent person, not a terrible one;

now, I think that this fandom on tumblr has ten problems with him because in order, the fact that he’s a man already puts him on a disadvantaged level but that’s common to most guys in this fandom like on tumblr in this fandom if a female character fucks up and a male character fucks up, the latter will be called out upon it way more than than the female character. also, abused male characters don’t get recognition for that 99% of the time. but that also means that his disability gets brushed off/ignored because since **according to tumblr standards** it’s not stopping him from doing most of what he’d like and no one takes it into account, his abuse gets brushed off/ignored because WELL HE’S NOT THE ONLY ONE, the fact that he’s a man means he has male privilege and whatever the fuck else and since he’s technically (in the book at least) Not Standard Attractive then he doesn’t even get the shitload of excuses hot people get in virtue of being hot;

also, there’s a certain attitude I really don’t like at all whatsoever to describe the fact that in his POVs he always goes about how much he hates his father/cersei or WHERE DO THE WHORES GO in adwd as whining/being unable to get over it/dying of self-pity but like.......... that’s..... how he copes with knowing he’s been treated like shit? like, thing is: in a literary genius foil with his brother who has no idea of the crap he was unjustly subjected to if not very subconsciously and whose coping method is *going away* and/or forgetting about things and/or not thinking about them, tyrion’s coping method is never letting himself forget it and honestly.... so he thinks shit about his father and sister all the time? tough luck, they’re his abusers, ofc he does. he can’t get over thinking no one will love him because of his looks? tough luck, he was told that all his life and when he found someone he thought did tywin organized that rouse so he’d think she was with him for money and he forced him to rape her which is also called rape by proxy so he’s also a rape victim and he was thirteen? wow, if I were him ie someone whose first advice to a main character in these books was ‘never forget about your weaknesses and make them your armor so people can’t hurt you with them’ then I also would be thinking about that all the time. he’s an abuse victim and he’s not away from his abusers until the end of asos, what are we expecting, that he’d get over it? actually it’s a way healthier method than jaime’s because at least he knows he’s been wronged all along and he can see both c. and his father for the assholes they are but at least he knows that and he harbors no illusions about them even if he still kind of wants them to love him same as most people would, but like... that’s not whining? that’s stuff that it’s absolutely normal he should be thinking? also, the where do the whores go thing in adwd is....... basically he just learned that his biggest trauma was not what he believed it was and he has to reconcile himself with the fact that a) tysha never not loved him, b) jaime was in on it even if he subconsciously knows that he also was a victim in that ploy (when he dreams about killing him in adwd he’s crying, sooooo) and he has to know because jaime told him out of *guilt* and he damn well knows it, like he’s re-elaborating the entire thing, obviously he’s fixated on it??? I mean the moment I figured out a specific thing that I hadn’t realized about an unhealthy relationship I had with someone I spent a month thinking about it every other moment for a month and it was nowhere near that same level of terrible, and I’m surprised that he thinks about that for all of adwd? like, I find those justifications very iffy and incredibly dismissive of a) his trauma b) his abuse victim status;

also there’s the whole HE KILLED TYWIN thing but..... I honestly am baffled it’s even a thing fandom thinks he should pay for or anything. like, the problem is that he killed *shae* in that context, and that was also out of feeling betrayed after just learning of how it really went with tysha, and that’s why he’s on the downward spiral/his lowest point in adwd, but.... tywin? really? like tywin is an asshole period, he abused him all his life, he traumatized the shit out of him for his entire life and made him grow up thinking he was unlovable and outright told him he wanted to drown him, and not even counting what tywin did to *him*, we’re talking about someone who went and calmly planned the red wedding the moment he realized there was no way he could take out robb without treachery and didn’t feel particularly bothered by it on a moral level, and we’re sad that he died or think that tyrion has to pay for it because he killed his abuser who also never really was a father to him in any sense of the word? like what the fuck does tyrion owe tywin? literally nothing and tbqh it’s tywin narratively reaping the seeds of what he’s sown if tyrion goes and offs him. like, a lot of people re fixed on this thing about OH HE KILLED HIS FATHER HE DOESN’T DESERVE REDEMPTION but the narrative doesn’t ask it of him. he has to make peace and find his own redemption for killing shae at that point, not tywin. tywin had it coming since the moment he showed up. like, saying he’s a horrible person for offing someone who only ever abused the shit out of him doesn’t really fly as far as I’m concerned;

at this point we get to ‘okay but in adwd he does a lot of questionable things’, but..... a) he’s supposed to be at his lowest narrative point and a lot of people have done a lot of questionable things at their lowest narrative point in these books, I mean if I think theon can have a nice life and get better after his WF stint I can think that tyrion can have a nice life and get better after his adwd stint, b) it’s nothing he’ll be proud of when he pulls his shit together (and he already had started by the end of adwd) but I mean... it’s nothing worse than most people who have to pull their shit together in these books have done lately, like honestly writing him off as a horrible person because of his adwd stint reaaaaally reeks to me of double standard which is based on the fact that no one around here wants to recognize that he’s an abuse victim and his reactions are valid and that yes his disability singles him out and is the reason people target him and not his merits or demerits. I mean he even spells it out, he’s been on trial for being a dwarf all his life/everyone already judged him for that regardless of his actual faults, and that’s not him being delusional, it’s the truth. he’s a person who certainly has faults same as anyone else but guess what a lot of people around fandom do what tywin does and exacerbate them if you ask my opinion;

(that also can be seen when it comes to what people think of the guy being shipped around because believe me I wish I hadn’t seen people saying he couldn’t be a good option for sansa because he’s not the beautiful gallant stainless dude she deserves, and I’m saying it as a sansan shipper first but come the fuck on) (other than that tyrion/bronn is ofc the superior ship but nvm me)

also there’s the whole thing where people decided that since tyrion is a general fandom fave in between the w.org/reddit crowd/general audience then obviously if the dudebros (ugh i can’t with that generalization anymore sure af freefolk is less puritan than tumblr from what I see) like him then he has to also incarnate the Worst Type Of Male Fan Of Asoiaf In Existence and like........ now, I don’t doubt that when it comes to the *general audience* there’s a lot of misconceptions going around plus a lot of his character faults get ignored (I mean when I went on w.org the first time the first thread I ran into was like ‘wow sansa is a bitch for not kneeling at once when they married and making him feel like shit’ I mean that’s a situation where you should feel bad for both but calling her a bitch for not wanting to kneel while marrying a guy she was forced to who also belonged to the family that killed her brother and mother and her father too is like......... come on seriously?) but that’s the same with most fandom faves in any fandom, it doesn’t mean that if some of his fans see him with rose-tinted glasses then on this side of the pond we have to decide he sucks when he doesn’t, and as I said time and time again..... do we remember the last time that in any fandom the general audience favorite character who sells the merchandise more than anyone else is a disabled abuse victim who doesn’t shut up about it and tries to be better than anyone else thinks them able to? because I don’t and while tyrion is not top five asoiaf for me I’m very glad that *he* is the general audience favorite. so they don’t get the point or see him with rose-tinted glasses? happens to fandom faves in general, but it doesn’t mean that he’s a terrible person in the text just because the dudebro crowd (if we wanna call it like that but meh) likes him. so what, he is the audience fave? good, I’m beyond fine with him being the audience fave. I honestly don’t think it’s an argument that should even be brought up because ‘that character’s fans are shit so the character is automatically shit because we judged the fans on their supposed gender’ is not an argument. *shrug*

tldr: I think people on here exaggerate his flaws (that everyone has) and are bitchy about the fact that he is the general audience favorite because how dare a guy who’s as far as we know cishet (which is already bad for tumblr standards), not standard hot (crime!!), has a disability (which gets ignored 90% of the time when discussing his privilege or lack thereof), is an abuse victim who won’t let you forget it and you can’t deny/headcanon differently (which is a thing tumblr can’t accept - I mean, men being abuse victims, and with hc differently I mean that people outright deny that idk jaime was one because he doesn’t realize he was so you have to actually read into the text to realize it, but they can decide he’s not because it requires effort to put it together - or deny sandor was one because we don’t have his pov and we only see his destructive coping methods and so on - with tyrion they can’t because he never lets you forget he was and admitting it is apparently hard, also one of his abusers is a woman and We Do Not Admit That Women Can Be Abusers On Tumblr Dot Com) and who has fucked up but not worse than most people in these books be the audience favorite? WE JUST DON’T KNOW. personally I think he’s pretty damn great and an amazingly conceived/written character (I mean in a series where all the characters weren’t so well-rounded and I didn’t have other people I latched on before that he’d have totally been top three material for me he just got unlucky to be in the one series where everyone is well-rounded and there’s people that I resonate personally more with but really he’s an amazing character all around) and I can’t wait for him to pull his shit together in the next book and possibly get the nice ending he deserves along with better dialogue than d&d gave him, but from there to say he’s a horrible person.... geez. my list of horrible persons in these books runs very long and he’s nowhere near it. ofc he has faults but no character in these books is faultless except maybe gilly, and not even people under the age of twelve are faultless in these books come on. 

[stusbunker]

Questions: Why?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 9, Ends in Season 10

Chapter 3 of my Questions Series

A/N: Blood and violence this chapter, our reader is one tough cookie! This is a long one, it could have been two chapters, forgive me? These are being posted out of order due to Chapter 4: What If? being part of @ericaprice2008‘s Fluff Challenge. I hope you guys like how their story unfolds. Back to the reader’s POV. xoxo Stu

This was not your mess, even if the whole world was broke, you weren’t compelled to do the fixing. It was too much. Then why couldn’t you just stay away?

***

You didn’t hear anything from Sam or Dean after you left the Bunker. You couldn’t decide if it was such a bad thing; having left with sound reasoning. But knowing them and the life, silence and with it the unknown, never came up in your favor. After two weeks you suckered your way into a beat up Geo Prizm and hit the road, putting Lebanon and the Winchesters far behind you.

The grumble of an engine set your nerves on edge. You shook your head and got back to clearing tables. You had been waitressing for a few weeks to cover your hotel bill in nowhere Minnesota. The haunting you came to town to cover was remedied after two days. Though you hadn’t felt compelled to clear town just yet.

Watching the news with a hunter’s insight proved that circumstances with the angels had reached a tipping point and you found yourself silently reaching out to Castiel. Thoughts you couldn’t articulate and worries sent out to the unknown. You hadn’t known the angel like you had the boys, but his presence had eased you in a way you hadn’t felt since childhood. Even if Cas was working on borrowed Grace, you felt him hear you. He must have loved those pig headed fools too.

An impatient cough spun you on your heels and the saccharine smile you plastered on for customers immediately turned sour. A familiar face beckoned from the corner booth.

“Ah, there she is! Still putting the B-I-T-C-H in resting bitch face, I see,” Crowley jeered at you.

“Crowley.” You tilted your head, “how awful it is to see you again.”

“Now, now! Paying customer here,” the Demon tutted at you.

“Of course, what do you want?” You pulled out your order pad and pretended to take his order. Your stomach clenched as he took a sip of water, watching bemusedly as you tried to remain calm.

“Insurance,” Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly two demons had your arms, while a third shoved a bag over your head before knocking you out cold.

***

Waking up in an unremarkable room bound and gagged felt like every hunters’ cliche, only adding to your annoyance and self-flagellation. Crowley had gotten the jump on you and now you had to deal with third string demons until you broke or they burned off your tattoo and rode you around like a free shuttle with curbside service.

Except, nothing really happened. A generic white dude that reeked of sulfur, (like he used it as conditioner) knocked you out once more. But when you came to, you were untied and a bag of fast food had been left behind. It went on like this for days. Food came sporadically and you made use of a bucket in the corner. You weren’t knocked out anymore and the wounds from your bindings began to heal. No one seemed to care about your presence one way or another. After a week of boredom and insanity-inducing silence, you heard a voice.

It wasn’t clear or loud, but it sounded like Kevin. That was the first day you cried. The loneliness was driving you to the brink and yet your old friend regret had decided to stick around.

Another week passed and you had lost your voice from screaming and singing old television intros, horribly off key. You would get an unamused thumping on the bulky door if you kept at it too long and once you even got one of the scumbags to open the door and face you. You were getting close to initiating your exit strategy. Another day and your pipes would be right as rain and then the real dramatics could start.

You never got your chance.

The screaming woke you from your nightmares. The ground rattling beneath your weakened body as chaos erupted behind the hidden walls of your prison. You hadn’t realized how many minions were wandering beyond those four walls until you heard each one die. One after another cries for mercy punctuated by the shocking crackle of a corrupted soul dissipating.

The voices began to thin out, movements getting closer to where you stood with your ear to the door.

“It’s not what you think lady!” your guard pleaded, reasonably. “It’s just some chic Crowley wanted to keep around. Not really top billing if-” a muffled groan ended in his throat. There was nowhere to hide, nothing to defend yourself with besides a small stash of salt packets you had saved from your various bagged meals. Terrified and curious, you crouched behind the heavy door and waited.

A voice like maple syrup called to you, “Don’t be shy. I just want a good look at you.” You rolled your eyes at the terrible placation. Two clipped steps later and she had stopped in the open doorway.

“Eh,” she whined disgusted at the condition of your cell.

Before she could see you, you slammed the door back at her with all the force your weakened body could muster. Your hand slipped down the rusty metal, leaving you to shoulder through. In your free hand you held the handful of tiny paper tubes, tossing them blindly at whatever the interloper was.

Then you were frozen.

And slammed against the wall like a fly after a swatting.

“Let me guess... Abaddon?” You spat out from clenched teeth. A million possibilities raced through your head, all with the same finish line, your funeral pyre. Crowley was a reasonable adversary, while Abaddon radiated evil. You closed your eyes and waited to see your family once more. To hear Rafe’s laugh and feel your mother’s embrace. Suddenly Sam’s wide smile flashed against your surrender and your eyes shot open. Ready to face the end with the courage of someone far bolder than you felt.

“That’s better, now you’re going to tell me every dirty thing Crowley kept you for, every thing that sap muttered in the dark and then I’ll end you. Almost painlessly.” Her beauty made her mirth all the more venomous.

“Almost? Not much for greasing palms are you, bitch?” All oxygen left your lungs and your eyes began to flood with red. What could have been two minutes felt like a month and then the infamous Knight of Hell released you.

“Humans, always so mouthy. You’re going to keep talking because a girl has a schedule to keep.”

***

You weren’t dead. The brokenness of your body and the pressure on your brain insisted that pain meant something.

Or you were and you hadn’t earned your reunion.

Okay, fair enough, if this anguish meant Hell. You knew what to expect. And Hunters were given the gold star treatment, even lesser known ones like you.

And yet, it still smelled the same. Sam and Dean had agreed that hell was like garbage and rancid meat, death, old fish and sweat all in one nauseating stench. You inhaled the same stale cement flooring and urine you had been smelling for weeks. There was a bit of copper in the air, but as you moved your mouth you realized it was just your own blood pooled and dried beneath your face. However you had kept breathing; you had been out for longer than was healthy.

Eventually you rolled over and sat up. Your elbow was shattered and the opposite leg was broken, she must have done it manually because there were deep nail-like gashes along your calf. You couldn’t remember everything you had spilled, but whatever it was, it was enough to leave you close enough to death to not bother finishing you off. You sniffled and started to crawl. It was one long hallway with a small set of stairs leading to a standard windowless Exit door, the red glow of the sign taunting and tantalizing.

You muttered to yourself, cursing everything from building design to demons to the cut of your eviscerated jeans. Jaw clenched, eyes dimming with blood loss and muscles screaming; you inched on. You shoved bodies of old vessels aside as you made your way toward the outside world. And then a haughty voice quipped behind you.

“Oh dear, she really did know how to throw a tantrum.” Crowley tisked as he looked at all of his dead henchmen. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

“Don’t touch me you bastard!” You barked, voice throbbing in your dry throat.

“Fine, hands free,” Crowley rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers.

***

You awoke in your old bed in the Winchesters’ Bunker, still broken and doubled over in pain. Something wasn’t right, Crowley didn’t just do you favors. You sat up, dragging yourself to stand. Fuck, it hurt, hopping towards the door jostled every injury into focus. You grabbed the door knob like a life raft and screamed.

“Sam! Dean! Fucking Winchesters you better be home!”

You waited a minute, listening to the hollowness of the subterranean walls. Just as you inhaled for another round of bellowing, the door down the hall opened. Sam stepped out, gun drawn, hair matted and eyes puffy.

“Y/N?”

“Sam!” You winced, trying to meet him. He crossed the distance in four dizzying strides. “Oh thank God,” You fell into his arms, ignoring the way your body protested or the butt of the gun in your back.

He held you tightly, “How did you get here? Where have you been?” Looking over your defeated form, hand lingering near your cheek.

The questions were forgotten when you returned the once over, “What happened?”

He straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Dean’s dead.”

***

The weeks after losing Dean were quiet, with the exception of Sam disappearing whenever the hint of a demon came onto the radar. You knew Crowley had used you as a consolation prize, one that Sam was not going to accept gracefully. If you hadn’t missed Dean or knew the boys so well, you may have been hurt. But nothing came between them, not really. You knew Sam would never stop when it came to Dean and you respected him all the more for it.

But it was lonely in the Bunker, days spent healing when you could have been of use. To Sam, to Cas, to finding Dean. You should have been used to the solitude after your weeks in Crowley’s hostel. Now you felt encroaching and lost. You felt Sam’s weariness like a lingering rainfall. He never looked at you anymore, which was one of the things he did best, listen with his whole face. You had built that wall between you. He had no idea what to do with you after your trust talk and you weren’t sure you could improve the situation either. An impasse.

Castiel was failing and despite his best efforts he was unable to help in locating Crowley or Dean. His weakened form was hard to swallow, for everyone. You had another week of casts before you were useful, so you spent your time silently reading news articles and attempting to keep the bunker livable. When Sam came home with his arm in a sling, you couldn’t help but laugh in his face. You had become quite the haphazard and frustrated pair. If only the Dean sized hole wasn’t felt within every room.

***

Sam’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs. He was dragging a body, one whose tanned arms and fitted jeans you knew in an instant. Dean. You sprinted with your freshly healed freedom up to help him. Christ was Dean solid. Sam grunted out the story of his past few days, having kept you in the dark until he was certain. Which translated until he had to tell you. Your stomach pitched as the realization of what Crowley did hit you. He had bastardized your friend into this, manipulative and cunning to the last. He had won his war and took Dean as a boy toy trophy. The Mark of Cain as his right hand man. Fucking demons.

And now that was Dean. After you got him tied up and Sam caught his breath, you worked out what you needed to cure him. Sam was hopeful, which made you even more apprehensive, but you wouldn’t push him off his game. Not now. You couldn’t pose as a doctor, you had spent too much time as a patient at the local hospital. Which left Sam, who figured an early morning shift would be the best time to slip in to the blood bank for enough doses to do the job.

“Listen, Y/N, he doesn’t know you’re here. I am going to do this, alone.” He spoke so formally it almost bit.

“Sure, yeah, except he knows every button you have Sam. Demon or not, that’s Dean. He’s going to rile you up.” With your challenge, hoping he would let you help. Needing him to admit you were right, to admit he was scared, to admit anything.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not throwing you at another one of Crowley’s goons, Y/N. Even if it wears the face of my brother.”

You inhaled sharply, that’s what this was about. “Okay, but I’ll be out here if something so much as inches the wrong way. You tag me in, got it?”

“I forget how much you act like him sometimes,” Sam smirked, catching your eye and softening your resolve.

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep you in check. Go get the Real McCoy back already,” you patted Sam’s good arm and he straightened, marching into the dungeon.

***

The walls rattled with a sound like a feral tiger, or a gorilla call. Whatever was inside Dean, Sam was facing the monstrous nature of it. You paced outside the store room where the dungeon door was hid. It went on all day, Sam disappearing behind the shelves every hour. After the sixth dose you saw him flinch, his jaw was slipping and it burned your chest to see him like this.

“Hey, I’ll go in for the next one. Give him a shock, keep him guessing.”

Sam was shaking his head as he squinted away his tears, “no.”

“I can’t sit by and watch him make you feel like this.” You crossed your arms over your chest. Sam closed his eyes and sighed, his breath rattling through his rib cage.

“Y/N. I can take it. I’m not putting this on you.”

“Would you stop?” You stepped towards him as he sat on the tabletop, legs barely holding him up. Your boots kissing, your eyes unable to meet his. “Stop trying to protect me, Sam. I spent weeks with demons, a few minutes isn't going to break me.”

“Do you think I am doubting you?” Sam’s voice shifted. “You’re one of the best damn hunters I have ever seen, Y/N/N. I just can’t put you both in this position. Dean would hate to have you see him like that, whatever he is now. And if it is killing him, I can’t put that on your conscience.”

It came out on a whisper, “Okay, fine, you win.” A genial roll of the eyes and a brush of finger tips over his calloused hand. There were too many words in his glance to reply. The heat from your chest had spread and your cheeks burned with a grin you hadn’t shared in too long. “Be safe.”

“Right.” With a smirk that could make a nun squirm.

***

After Cas showed up, the terror subsided as well as Sam’s restrictions. You were allowed in to help with more doses, and you were there when Dean resurfaced. He was shaky and processing, but he was back. Sam’s burdens were left at the door, despite Cas’s worry over the Mark.

You picked through the left over fries at the bottom of the grease soaked bag as Sam poured you both some stiff ones. Dean had called it an early night and his snoring could be heard from his room.

“So? What’s next on the Winchester shit meter? Angels? The Mark of Cain? New hair care regimen?” You teased, letting the golden liquid coat your tongue and trail down your throat. Sam chuckled, playing with his hair slightly as he thought. You shoved his chair with your foot as he gulped down the rest of his glass, a few drops falling down his chin.

The carefree mood felt indulgent and you knew Sam was trying to hover in the surface emotions for as long as possible. You shouldn’t have asked, but it was in your nature to be prepared.

“Just take it one day at a time. I guess?” Sam cleaned up the spill you caused and poured another round.

“Hey, thanks, by the way. After Crowley left me, like he did, it couldn’t have been easy dealing with my mess and looking for Dean. And I haven’t really been able to admit how much that meant to me. So, thank you, Sam, for being there when a demon, or two, left me for dead.” You raised your etched glass and toasted your long-term host.

“What are friends for?” Sam shrugged. “Anytime, you know?”

“Right, friends.” You nodded, plastering on a fake smile as the hope that had been winding through your gut deflated. You were just friends.

@dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @chucksnotonanyflatbread @madlu45 @sophieasaurus @veroinnumera @reid-fiction

Chapter 4: What If?

Please let me know if you want to be tagged! (Or removed) xoxo Stu

[comic-critic-squad]

I've always felt like Droemar was a shit person, and I can't wait to see you guys tear her ass up.

It’s all been very behind the scenes at the moment, but I plan on including her thing when GreatHornedOwl and I start a blog for writing. It’ll be of a different tone than this place (and we want to bitch about Warriors a LOT) and more helpful.

If y’all want some teasers, though...

She’s blatantly ripped off some things, like two very notable lines, from Watership Down and Fire Bringer. It’s a coincidence either since those books she hypes up on her DA, and she’s explicitly described her book as “Watership Down but with dinosaurs.”

Her own advice on writing dialogue (see the two journals about)? She violates that shit flagrantly. See her stuff about letting punctuation speak for itself and using “said” (nearly) exclusively. Those two are the most relevant.

The villain is weak sauce. And her backstory? Straight up ripped from Sgorr from Fire Bringer, although rather than eating a human child like Sgorr, she ate her parents! Seriously, so much of it reeks of Fire Bringer. There are traces of The Sight, too--like the villain not being able to have babies. :( 

I’d say more about the Watership Down things, but I haven’t actually read it, although Droemar’s book inspired me to buy it. So far, GreatHornedOwl has been telling me what things are ripped from there--like Droemar’s line that’s very similar to the notable “If they catch you, they will kill you; but first, they must catch you.” From Fire Bringer? “For in the beginning, there was light” was changed to “for in the beginning, there was dark.”

I’m not making any of this shit up y’all. After all the hyping she did and posturing, I was honestly expecting something truly fantastic. 

She says she spent three years alone editing it. You literally can’t tell. I can’t wait to show y’all the worst mistakes and typos. Ones I can remember off the top of my head: “less then” when she meant “less than”; missed words in sentences and repeated words; missing punctuation and double periods; all indents are a whole fucking 1/2″ with one indent being a full 1″ (rather than the standard 1/4″); inconsistencies with word use (she flips back and forth between leapt/leaped, forward/forwards, and so on); overall it READS like a first draft with two noticeable exceptions that it seems she actually spent time on and rewrote and polished, one being when the MC discovers his family was massacred.

Did I mention the MC has a conifer-shaped mark that fades when he gets old? Did I mention Rannoch had an oak leaf-shaped mark that faded when he grew old? (Also the endings are literally the same, although I will admit she had a great ending line.)

The moral of the story? Watch what hills you want to die on.

It’s even better now because I’m a graduate student in publishing (master’s degree), so seeing her talk about “industry professionals” is fucking hilarious. My peers and professors shit on people just like her all the time.

- Dr. Salt

[itsmarianstories]

✨🔍Focus🔎✨

Boxer Jungkook, Dancer Jimin

2. Part: Jimin visits Jungkooks fight for the first time

A/N: I’m so done right now... I had this all already edited and this whole post finished when my laptop collapes and now I have to do everything again. I’m not gonna edit this chapter a second time sorry, now you gotta keep up with my mistakes :’) Also this can probably be read seperately? I think? Though it would make more sense to read the first part first. Anyways it’s not as long as the first part but therefore there will be a third part ;)

Word count: 4.594

Focus.

Un, deux, trois, quatre

Glissade, assemble, sous-sus, pirouette

His body drumming in tension, all muscles working and keeping his every move under total control. No finger is moving in a way it's not supposed to.

He is drilled to perfection, by his mother, his teacher and himself. It's what he did for all his life. Flying through the air, looking almost weightless and light, although his feet hurt, his legs burn and his lungs beg for air. A smile is plastered on his lips, keeping up the mask. Like a statue, strong, perfect, cold.

His eyes are fixed in the huge mirrors that cover the three walls in this studio, watching his own moves like a hawk. Everyone else, including his teacher has already left but he prefers it like that. The hours where he has the studio completely for himself are the best, he can completely focus on himself, he has all the space he wants and he can dance the way he wants.

He loves ballet, it's his passion, what keeps him going on some tough days but sometimes it's also what pushes him down. When he can't get a certain move right, or when his emotions are too overwhelming to push them down behind that mask of perfection. On those days he likes to blast his favourite songs and just let lose, close his eyes and move to the beat.

However, not today. In two weeks they have their showcase and Jimin performs in four pieces. Two group performances, one duet and one solo. They are already practicing for this showcase for almost a year now and although Jimin knows the sequences by heart now, there are still parts which are not perfect yet.

There will be critics at the show and if Jimin is good enough he might be allowed to choreograph his own pieces, get his own group and teach a class. Actually he doesn't really want to teach a class, he knows no one would want to train under him. Jimin is a perfectionist and he would drill his students to the absolute highest level, even he himself can't meet his standards so how could others?

The music stops and Jimins body stills. Well, more or less. His chest his heaving with heavy breaths and his legs tremble slightly. Sweat his running down his skin, literally everywhere, his arms, legs, neck, spine, forehead.

Jimin stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds before he went to the corner where he left his stuff. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. Deciding that it was enough he grabbed his things and quickly went to the shower. After cleaning his body he threw a quick glance at the time.

Jungkooks fight is in two hours, it will take Jimin probably about 40 minutes to get to the address so he should get home soon to get ready.

He isn't really sure what that is, this evening. Like, is it a date? A meeting between friends? Just a dude watching another dude fight?

Nonono, Jimin get a hold of yourself. The way Jungkook pressed you against your own wall in your own entryway definitely wasn't a moment between 'dudes'. This has to mean something, right? Right?!

The dancer sighed while pulling the hood of his sweater over his head. After that incident a few days ago he stopped taking the shortcut to his apartment which means his way home will take almost 20 minutes instead of 10. It's annoying but Jimin never wants to experience something like that ever again. He can't imagine what would have happened if Jungkook hadn't passed by coincidentally. Or if he hadn't been nice enough to actually stop and bother beating those guys up for him.

He is pretty sure Jungkook expected a girl, considering his reaction when he saw Jimins face. Who can blame him, it's not a situation that many young men find themselves in.

A few days ago he had read a story about corrective rape but couldn't imagine it really being a thing. Like why would you want to fuck someone you are disgusted by? It doesn't make sense but he figured that most horrible things don't make sense.

Thinking about that while walking home alone isn't really helping so he falls into a slow run, trying to get home as quickly as possible.

Once home Jimin quickly changes, does his hair and may or may not apply a hint of make-up, just on his eyes and lips.

He quickly texted Tae to let him know he was ready and waited for the knock on his door. Slipping on his sneakers, checking his phone, key and wallet he opened the door.

“Hey loverboy, ready?” Tae grinned at him and Jimin smacked his shoulder.

“Shut up!” He mumbled, feeling the blush creep onto his cheeks. They left the building together and called for a cab. Jimin fiddled with the hem of his oversized jacket. He didn't like to admit that he was nervous. Obviously because of the fight. He had no idea what to expect and the way Jungkook sounded while texting he was a bit worried about Jimin being there. That's why Tae is here after all.

“I can't believe you made me do this!” His best friend said.

“Not only are you dragging me to a box fight, though you know fairly well how much I dislike violence! You also make me third wheel at your date!”

“It's not a date.” Jimin contradicted.

“Shut up it is a date. You may deny it and that Jungkook guy may be too dense to realize it, but I know.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Right. I forgot you are the human version of Cupid.” Tae winked at him and Jimin shrugged him off.

They arrived at the location soon later and Jimin gulped when he saw the big old brick building. People where lingering around on the street, holding plastic cups with beer, smoking cigarettes (or smth like that? He wasnt so sure) and talking casually. Most of them men, men who resembled thos guys who attacked him a few days ago in a frightening way. Suddenly he regretted putting on make up and wearing a jacket without hood to hide his pink hair. Might as well write “gay and proud" on his forehead.

Tae was right next to him and although he didn't like violence at all he looked more intimidating, being tall and build with a red bandana in his hair.

Jimin is really questioning his sanity right now. What made him think wearing a pink bomber jacket with transparent stripes on the arms was a good idea?

They passed a few groups on their way inside and so far no one really paid them any mind but as soon as they entered the hall heads started to turn in their (his) direction. Jimin wondered whether he should text Jungkook that he was there now but he didn't want to distract or bother him before his fight so he decided against it.

He overheard a few people talk when they passed them by.

“Do you think he will win again?”

“Nah he is too young. The other one has way more experience.”

“I don't know man he is a pretty good fighter. He won almost every fight until now.”

“He is trained by Agust D right?”

“Yeah, he's his best student.”

Jimin didn't exactly know why, but the things those guys said made him feel proud. Hm, weird.

The inside of the building kinda resembled a really small theatre. The ring was in the middle like a stage and chairs were circling it in long rows, only interrupted by a few aisles.

“Do you want to drink something?” Tae asked but Jimin shook his head.

“I'm good. I'll go get us seats.” He said. Tae nodded and left to the bar, leaving Jimin alone in the mass. The dancer turned and searched for two free seats, preferably somewhere in the front. He is small and he wants to see after all. People gave him looks when he passes them and he saw at least two or three who looked disgusted. It made Jimin shrink in himself, trying to disappear in his jacket. He lowered his eyes, not looking anyone in the eye and possibly offend them.

He found two seats in the second row and quickly made his way over there. He took his phone out in case Tae texts him about the seats when he noticed someone sitting down next to him, on the seat that was for Tae.

Jimin looked up and saw a man, bald with a white beard covering his double chin. He looked (and smelled) sweaty, wearing a black ACDC shirt and a cold chain around his neck. He looked like he jumped right out of a movie as cliché as it was. The man stared at him and Jimin gulped. This can't mean anything positive.

“U-Uhm...” He started, wanting to tell the man that the seat was taken but he was cut off.

“You know princess, this is not a cosmetic studio.” He snarled, his breath reeking of beer and cigarettes. Jimin wanted to snap back, put him in his place, telling him to fuck off and that 'no shit Sherlock, actually I expected someone to come and give me a manicure' But since the incident in that alley and being the small boy that he is, it would be so easy for the other to manhandle him.

Jimin didn't know why but Jungkook popped up in his mind and somehow it gave Jimin a hint of braveness. He didn't want to be the clichéd small baby boy who can't do anything for himself, who clings onto his sugar daddy, pouts his plumb lips and cries when he doesn't get what he wants. He is strong and independent and he can take care of himself for fucks sake. (It may also help a little that there are so many people around, this dude will probably not do anything in front of so many will he?)

Jimin didn't want to provoke him unnecessarily so he simply stated that “Sorry, this seat is taken.” And he was proud when his voice didn't shake.

“What are you doing here, huh? Do you even know what this here is?” Jimin sighed internally and rolled his eyes.

“A drama staging?” It slip out too quickly for Jimin to hold back and he saw the nostrils of the man flare and how his lips were pressed in a thin line. Oh this is not good.

“Go home princess. Play with your dolls and let the real men do their things.” He growled and Jimin wanted to tell him that the dick between his legs showed that he was indeed a 'real' man but he figured that would cross a boarder he didn't want to see the other side off.

“Why is it bothering you if I just quietly sit here and watch the fight? I'm not contagious you know.” Jimin said, trying to keep all the anger and annoyance out of his voice. The man didn't know what to answer to that, his mouth opened and closed again like a fish on the dry.

Tae chose to come back in that very moment, standing tall over the man and radiating a dangerous atmosphere, which is funny if you know what a clingy teddy bear Tae usually is. But now he was obviously pissed and it probably helped that his voice is naturally deep and rich for it made it sound more intimidating when he said

“I think you are sitting on my seat.” The man looked up at him, then at Jimin and back up at Tae until he grumbled something in his beard, took a sip from his beer and finally left.

“Are you okay?” Tae asked when he took the seat the man left just now. Jimin nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess it's my own fault for, you know, dressing like this.” He said with a smile.

“What are you talking about? You have every right to dress in whatever way you please. Their stinky asses are just jealous of your confidence.”

“Pfft, what confidence?” Jimin scoffed. Tae wrapped and arm around his shoulders but didn't say anything because he knew that way Jimin would think about it way more. And before they could talk about it any further spotlight switched on and drowned the ring in yellow. A small man appeared with a microphone in hand. He greeted everyone and asked them to go to their seats. It became quiet real quick and the man in the ring started to announce the fighters, talking about their weight and previous fights and he was basically screaming everything. Probably to hype up the crowed but Jimin thought it was a rather primitive way to do. Yet, it seemed to work and Jimin couldn't say he was surprised.

After a few minutes the first fighter entered the ring. The crowed cheered and whistled and the man raised his fists as if he was bathing in the praise. The fighter was probably about 180 cm tall and build, wearing nothing but the lose shorts and gloves on his hands. He was laughing confidently and Jimin hoped that Jungkook would wash the dirty smug of his face. Something about the attitude and the atmosphere of this guy made Jimin uncomfortable. There was another man walking behind him, carrying a towel and a bottle of water, probably something like his assistant? Jimin had no idea.

The man with the microphone started talking again, now about Jungkook and Jimin couldn't help but pay a little more attention. He hyped him up just as much, talking about how great he his for his young age and how many fights he has already won. Jimin was nervous.

And then Jungkook entered. Instead of enjoying the crowds cheers he simply walked towards the ring, his body hidden by a black silk robe and his face covered by a hood. Jungkook had someone carrying a towel and bottle as well, a small rather slim man with silvery hair. Other than the first boxer, however, Jungkooks assistant(?) Was walking beside him, an arm behind his back a bit like a bodyguard and he was whispering things to Jungkook. Jimin wondered what it might be but it was way too loud and he was too far away to eavesdrop.

Jungkook entered the ring as well and finally got rid of the robe, handing it to the man with silver hair. Jimins mouth fell open. Sure he knew Jungkook had a nice body from when they slept on the same bed or their little “moment" in his entryway but seeing it like this in its full glory was... different.

His muscled were toned, obvious poking out under his tanned skin. The light of the spotlights made him glow and Jimin honestly just wanted to lick his abs Jesus Christ.

Jimin noticed how Jungkooks eyes started to wander over the auditorium, searching for something. Or rather someone. His heartedbeat picked up and suddenly his palms became strangely sweaty. Jimin gulped and took a shaky breath. Damn shit why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

He watched as Jungkooks eyes scanned the crowed and came nearer and nearer towards him and then his eyes landed on him and their gazes locked and Jimin could swear that for a few heartbeats long the whole room was empty except for them both and it was deafeningly silent. Jimin held his breath when a small smile spread on Jungkooks lips. He could hear his own heart beat loudly in his hears and he lifted his hand for a small subtle wave which caused Jungkooks smile to become bigger. Jimin smiled back and then the silvery haired man petted Jungkooks back, asking for his attention. The boxer ripped his eyes away and turned to his assistant who continued to tell him whatever.

Jimin finally released the breath he was holding and noticed that Tae was staring at him.

“I feel dirty.” His best friend said.

“Huh?”

“It was like watching a live porno. Seriously you still have drool on your chin.” Tae teased, acting as if he was wiping it away with his sleeve. “Disgusting.” He muttered and Jimin pushed him away, smacking his hand from his face.

“Shut up!” He snapped, face burning.

Moments later the fight began and Jimin could see an immediate switch in Jungkooks attitude. He was concentrated, focused on nothing but his opponent. He observed the others movements, studying him and waiting for him to make the first move.

Jimin had no idea about boxing but even he could see the difference between those two fighters. Jungkooks opponent still looked rather cocky, grinning and looking at Jungkook like he was a small boy. However, that grin faltered after Jungkook dodged the first hit.

As a dancer Jimin knows what a focused body looks like, he can see the tension, the control over every muscle. It’s a bit as if Jungkook would dance, dance around his opponent, provoking him and irritating him. And it's working. The other fighter became more and more reckless with how much angrier he became. It was somehow funny to watch.

After a few minutes Jungkook finally started to hit back. His movements were so quick and smooth, it reminded Jimin so much of ballet it was fascinating. He never really associated with this sport before getting to know Jungkook so he had no idea what to expect. He always thought boxing are just to men beating each other down but what Jungkook was doing in that ring right now was a profession. Jimin could see the training, the sweat and ache he invested to get this kind of control. It made Jimin feel so much closer to Jungkook because he basically felt the passion Jungkook had towards his sport. It’s the same passion he has for his own and ain’t gonna lie, that’s a huge turn on.

The fight continued with both fighters landing a few good hits and every time Jungkooks face or stomach connected with the opponents glove, Jimin jumped slightly and clenched his hand harder around the armrest of his chair. Yes, he was in awe over Jungkooks fighting, but that doesn't mean he didn't worry about him.

Jimin couldn't say how long the fight actually lasted, for him the time flew and crept at the same time but when Jungkook landed a good hit against his opponents temple the man finally went down. The crowed cheered and watched excitedly if the boxer will get ip again but ten seconds passed and he was still on the ground. A loud ring sounded through the hall and Jungkook raised his hands over his head triumphantly, grinning and rotating to look at the crowed. His eyes, again, landed on Jimin and they beamed at each other before the man with the microphone appeared again, ending the fight and announcing Jungkook as the winner. The silver haired guy hopped in the ring, a huge gummy smile on his face as he pulled Jungkook in a hug and handed him towel and water bottle. It was cute to watch them interact because Jungkook looked at the man with so much fondness and admiration, relishing in the praise like a child who proudly showed off a good grade to his parents.

They left the ring together and the crowed cheered again. People were petting Jungkooks back in congrats as he walked back to the changing rooms.

Earlier that day Jungkook had told Jimin were it would be best for him to wait until Jungkook would be ready after the fight so now Jimin jumped up and pulled Tae along. Out of the building and around it just as Jungkook had described, to get to the backdoor where Jungkook would leave through. He was nervously jumping up and down, while Tae was leaning on the brick wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, growling things about “euphemizing violence" when the door opened.

Jimin basically jumped into Jungkooks arms. The younger let out a surprised noise but was quick to smile and wrap his arms around Jimin.

“Wow what did I do to deserve this enthusiastic greeting?” He chuckled. Jimin pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

“Duh, win the fight obviously.” He answered. Tae scoffed next to them, causing Jungkook to look into his direction.

“Oh right, Jungkookie this us Tae, Tae this is Jungkookie.” Jimin introduced them.

“Oh hi, you must be the platonic soulmate.” Jungkook said and extended his hand but Tae only narrowed his eyes at him until Jimin stabbed him in the side with his elbow in a silent 'be nice!' Tae rolled his eyes and finally took Jungkooks hand.

“Yeah, hi.” Jimin sighed at that.

“Give us a second.” He said and pushed Tae around the next corner.

“Tae why are you being mean?” He wanted to know.

“I'm not being mean, I'm being suspicious. He is a boxer Jiminie, violence and fighting is a daily thing for him. I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“Jungkookie would never hurt me, ever! He saved me, I can't believe we are even talking about that!”

“That he saved you doesn't mean he can't ever lose control. What if you have a fight some day and his 'hand slips', huh? You don't know this guy but you are already acting as if you two know each other for years.”

“I know him better than you do!” Jimin almost yelled. His best friend opened his mouth again but Jimin hold up his hand to shush him.

“Tae, I love you but you are being unfair, right now. You always talk about not judging books after their cover but now you are doing exactly that just because you dislike violence and he is a boxer. I think it's best of you go home for today and once you got over your prejudices you will see how sweet he is.”

“Jiminie-" Tae said, taking a step forwards but Jimin shook his head.

“No, just go home.” Tae sighed but eventually listened. Once he was out of sight Jimin turned and went back to Jungkook who was awkwardly standing where he had left him.

“Sorry, about that.” Jimin said sheepishly.

“It's alright, he us only worried about you. That's a good thing.” Jungkook said but Jimin rolled his eyes.

“He is acting like a mom and there is nothing to worry about anyway.” Jimin said. They made their way away from the building. It was silent for a while until Jungkook opened his mouth again.

“Jimin, I'd never let my hand slip.” He said seriously and Jimin smiled up to him, taking his hand.

“I know.”

They went in a small restaurant and ordered so may dishes, Jimin had no idea how they should possibly finish all that. They talked about everything and nothing for a while, making silly jokes and giggling into their hands to not disturb the other customers. One time Jungkook made a joke while Jimin took a sip from his drink and it caused him to choke. He had coughed and blushed furiously but Jungkook had stared at him with so much affection and tenderness it made Jimins heart bloom.

“You were really cool tonight, by the way.” Jimin said at one point and the beam Jungkook gifted him with was worth all the uneasiness and trouble he felt earlier when he had first entered the old gym hall.

“Thank you!”

“You like boxing very much, don’t you?” Jimin said and Jungkook tilted his head to one side.

“Yeah, I guess, why?”

“No, it’s just… I could see it. The passion you have, you know? I think it’s why you were so superior to your opponent. He was fighting to impress others, you are fighting for yourself.” Jimin mumbled but blushed when he noticed Jungkooks intense gaze. “Ah, sorry, I don’t know if that made any sense… I just-“

“No, it’s fine, you are right. I’m just surprised you could see this, even though you aren’t familiar with boxing.” Jimin shrugged.

“I think on some level boxing is pretty similar to dancing. You need the same control over your body, the tension, the knowledge how to move…” Jimin explained and for a few moments they stared at each other in silence.

“Wow, usually people think boxing is just about how is the strongest and has the harder hits. The only one I can talk to about boxing like this is my coach. You don’t know what a turn on it is that you sit here and casually talk about boxing like you did it all your life.” Jungkook murmured and Jimin blushed, biting his lip. Usually he would avert his eyes and stare at the ground in embarrassment but now there is something between them that makes Jimin feel save. So instead of feeling shy, he feels excited. He used that to be a little bold, leaning over to Jungkook and whispering

“You don’t know what a turn on it was seeing you in that ring, all naked and sweaty.” Jungkooks eyes widened and Jimin could see how his pupils dilated.

“You know, it would only be fair if I could see you dancing too now.” Jungkook said.

“My studio actually has a showcase in two weeks, if you really want to I can get you a ticket.” Jimin said, blush still prominent on his cheeks. It’s not that he is embarrassed about his dancing, he knows he is good at what he is doing, but knowing that Jungkook will be there watching him was… exciting.

After they finished their food they took a walk through the city. Jimin always liked taking walks through the night but he didn’t do it since he moved to the city because he never felt save enough, but now with Jungkook by his side it was like mothing could ever hurt him again.

The taller had an arm securely around Jimins shoulders, keeping him close and Jimin had snuggled into his side, enjoying the warmth that radiated off of Jungkooks body.

“Jimin?” Jungkook said at one point and Jimin hummed, signalling him to keep talking.

“Is this… like uh… was… was this a date?” Jimin couldn’t help but smile at how adorably nervous Jungkook sounded. He looked up at him and stood on his tip toes to press a kiss on the boxers cheek.

“I hope so.”

Jimin didn’t know for how long they paced through the dimly lit streets but after a while they ended up in front of his apartment building. He didn’t want Jungkook to go but he also didn’t want to rush things.

“I had fun tonight. Thank you for letting me see this.” Jimin said. Jungkook shook his head with a smile.

“Thank you for coming.” They smiled at each other and before Jimin could react Jungkook had leaned in and pecked his lips once, twice. After the third time Jimin grabbed his collar and pulled him in to kiss him properly. He felt Jungkook smile against his lips and bit it playfully, tugging on it and running his tongue over it afterwards. Jimin pulled back with a grin when Jungkook groaned.

“You are evil.” The younger said and Jimin shrugged amused.

Jungkook left after another few kisses and soft ‘goodnight’s.

[uldren-sov]

wingman

Hit a rough af patch when it comes to inspiration but this is a long time coming.

Alveat’ayme’rabenrav aka Taymer “Likho” is @popiell ‘s (and thank you so much for letting me borrow him for this) Sinak “Latro” is mine

A quick “first meeting” about someone losing that loving feeling.

It had been a year since she was captured by the Empire and there were only two things Sinak could say was good about the place. One: that nothing stunk here like it did in her old crew - nothing compared to the way her pirates had reeked. And two: the way they stuck to uniforms meant she could be in her flight suit - covered from head to toe - whenever she damn well felt like. Except at a time like this when a training accident had it singed and she was awaiting a new one. She needed a damn drink.

Though actually getting to the port’s cantina was a whole other problem. She kept to her personal quarters and the flight deck most times, so she didn't have to interact with all of the soldiers outside of a professional basis. Or at any basis if she could help it. Which was just fine for her. They knew her callsign was Latro, they knew her skill was unapproachable, and that was all they knew about her; that's all she wanted them to know about her. But now she had to contend with the stares, the double-takes, and maybe the only thing that saved her from being arrested outright was the nondescript standard gray uniform she and every other soldier in the Imperial army were given and expected to wear.

The chains shifted slightly against her cheek as she sniffed sneered into her whiskey. It felt like every pair of eyes on these soldiers were on her, the lone Rattataki, if not all at once then at least hanging off of her in turns. Their attention was the most unwelcome of nuisances, like a swarm of flies that could talk - and all the talk was xenophobic garbage.

If she had to hear one more time how “exotic” she was going to use her glass to carve out someone’s heart from their chest.

She flagged the bartender with credits between her fingers, the only one at the bar who had to; the shit she had to do to make sure she got attention in Imperial space was ridiculous. Music - some sort of typical, overhyped, love song - just started blaring from the speakers and made her wince. Or at least it seemed like it started blaring, the dark ambiance with neon lights combined with the now pounding music and buzz of talk was probably just the start of a migraine. One more drink and then she was gone, that's what she swore to herself, just something to take the edge off a particularly shit day. And then the lyrics to that annoying, sappy song were sung, above the music, at her ear. She whirled, dropping her hand onto the bar in her annoyance. Now what the fuck was this?

Met with bright red eyes, rich blue skin, and a glaringly white toothed grin - some man, some alien, sang along with the music at her. A Chiss, that's what they're called, with a chiseled face and strong jaw. Might be handsome if someone was into the no pupil thing. She wasn’t, though. She turned from him and just held her hand back up to flag down the bartender once more, not going to give this guy any more of her attention.

“If there was anyone a song about love and beauty would be about, it’d be about you,” he said as he took a place beside her. Despite the crowded bar, she had ample space on either side of her so of course he could just take a place as he wanted - and as he did. Dammit.  She stared straight ahead, that drink was less and less appealing by the second.

“You stood out against everyone here, I had to try and get to know you better,” he continued on, undeterred.

“It’s because I’m an alien,” she said, not even bothering to look at him.

“Gorgeous and also something in common,” he rejoined easily enough

“I’m not what you are.”

“No, but don’t worry. Despite your tattoos I have plenty more blue to share,” he said way more huskily as he leaned in. She blinked slowly and glanced to him. What did that even mean?

“Let me get that for you,” he now leaned in beside her and gave a sharp whistle which finally got her to stare, something catching in her mind about that whistle. “What’s your poison?” he asked yet she couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. The whistle sounded familiar in some way, she couldn’t quite figure out where.  But she did finally notice his uniform out from underneath a worn, patched, jacket. Dark gray fabric, black, red, and gold piping, and an S-13 wings pinned above his rank cogs. Just like she would have, had she been wearing her flight suit or just bothered to put on her rank and other pins.

“You’re a pilot?” she asked incredulously. How’d they let someone like him in?

“I am,” he said, practically purring as he leaned against the bar. “Big capital ship that’s docked? I’m a part of that Darth’s Sting company - just changed over from its S-12 Blackbolts.” The bartender came around finally, she ordered and he gave some sort of comment as to how he knew she was into whiskey before rattling on about how dangerous and daring being a pilot was. She, on the other hand, was trying to think of just who this person was and just what a Darth was thinking to have the only other alien she’s seen be in the same squadron as her.

“Callsign: Likho. Heard about me?” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret as she stopped mid-sip to stare. She had heard about him, everyone heard about him. What the fuck were the odds that they actually meet now?

Pretty high, now that she thought about it, same squadron - now, same dock, one cantina, and he had a reputation of being something of a playboy when they did dock. Of course he’d be here, she, though, could have stood without the meeting.

“No,” she said instead. But she knew him, she knew that whistle now. The reckless asshole was going to get himself and someone else killed with the kind of flying he did. Acting like every run was a dogfight and clogging up the comms with his damn whistling and singing. She set her whiskey down immediately and got up to leave.

“Wait, wait. C’mon,” he quickly got up and stood at her flank. To his credit he didn’t grab her, didn’t trap her, just stuck right at her side. “I just want to see if I can show you a good time, maybe save you from all these prying eyes and stiff shirts. If you’d let me.” And he gave probably what was his winningest, most charming smile, that spread all the way up to his weird red eyes.

“Want my advice on something?” she settled on after a long, hard, stare.

“Absolutely.”

“Stay a pilot and don’t try getting into singing,” she said with a bite of a tone and a narrow of her eyes. He exhaled sharply like he was just punched and just laughed the rest of the breath out with a bit of a nod.

“For you? I’ll keep that in mind,” he called after as she took her starting steps towards the door of the cantina. “Hey! Hope I’ll get to see you again - maybe even get your name next time!”

“Unfortunately?” she looked over her shoulder, “you will.” The surprise on his face was almost comical as that grin once more teased and curled his mouth up. She didn’t give him a second look as she made her way out of the cantina.

While most of the squadrons went out and worked together, she invariably spent more time with her own - the S-13 pilots. They’re the ones who gave her, her reputation, they’re the ones who started rumors about her clinical flying and merciless precision. She was bound to see them every single day despite how much she didn’t want to; it was her sentencing, the only reason why the Darth had spared her life was to instead serve him as a part of this squad.

The rest of the pilots knew to leave her well enough alone though past briefs and debriefs. This new one, whose name she thinks she remembered was nicknamed “Taymer”? If he was anything like he was in the bar, and his reputation definitely supported that it was, he would not get the same memo her fellow pilots did.

At best, this Likho was just one more pain in her ass brought on by the Empire.

[artyrambles]

The sandbox changes actually look really good. No, you don't one-shot people any more, but Crew Stunned looks like a fairly powerful effect - for which you get assistance damage, I believe - and it's fairly easy to apply it over a rather large area. Which means you influence the outcome of battles more *and* actually crack teams turtling on corners more effectively. Plus they buffed area of effect pretty hard, so while your single-target damage isn't as high, you'll still put out decent AOE DPS.

Short answer: No, it doesn't look good at all.

Long answer:

I'm sorry if this is going to sound hostile and pissed, anon please don't take it as a personal attack. Just understand that just about everything about these changes sounds horrible to me.

I'll start this off with some questions: Do you play arty regularly? Have you ever played arty that wasn't low tier on the regular servers? Have you played any class before the 8.6 arty nerf? You should be able to answer "yes" to at least the first two questions, otherwise I'm afraid your opinion could be uninformed. I'm not saying that no one who doesn't play arty knows anything about it, but I've made the experience that this is usually the case. So please, if you answered at least one of the first two questions with "no", do your research first.

Now that this is out of the way…

(I'll put the following rant under a readmore because holy shit did I write much. Probably no one will read all of this, but I really gotta get it off my chest.)

The stun effect is going to be fucking infuriating for everyone involved. Let's ignore for a moment that one-shots are the exception. How is it better than being killed instantly if you are stunned instead and can't do anything but wait for a slow death by the enemy tanks?? Ah, I know: Literally everything is better for the anti-arty zealots than getting their ass kicked by arty. Even if that everything is dying in an absolutely pathetic way. They complain that they can't shoot back at the arty when it hits them, but suddenly it's fine to be unable to shoot back when the other tanks slaughter you with impunity? Please tell me how inviting every tomato to farm damage off you makes any sense beyond fanatic spite.

And no, you won't do "decent" damage. If your shots do less damage but you still have the same reload time as before, your damage output is going to be abysmal compared to what it was before. And assisted damage is worth zilch. Why should another tank be allowed to profit from my shots? What entitles them to my exp? Arty gets less exp than the other classes anyway, and it's going to be even less with these changes. How much time are we supposed to spend on grinding our lines?

Also, when you say that arty will influence the battle more, you're forgetting that team work in WoT basically doesn't exist, and it can be observed on the sandbox server already that no one cares about shooting the targets arty stunned. Even if they'd try, how are they supposed to shoot those targets if they're simply too far away due to arty's bigger range? Did anyone think this through at all?

With the sandbox changes, arty will be nerfed into oblivion, but in a way that literally no one asked for. I have no fucking clue how WG even came up with this. It must have been a collective wet nightmare, because everyone who has just a hint of sanity would never propose such changes.

This whole thing reeks of idiotic double standards and is nothing but a big sham to shut up the haters. But the haters only think that they want this, until they will have to experience it for real.

There is so much wrong with this concept, and I can't help but suspect that this is an underhand effort to turn off players from playing arty for good. I've been afraid for a long time that something may happen, even though I would have never expected it to end like this. I never denied that arty needs some adjustments, but if WG goes through with this completely mislead overhaul, they're going to lose many paying customers.

[torterragarden]

top 5 female and top 5 male characters in anything (top 10 if 5 isnt enough), add reasons if you want to 🙋 and a happy new year 🙌

OKAY SO I’M FINALLY GETTING AROUND TO POSTING MY ANSWER FOR THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT. I spent so much time thinking about this because I loved this question and I ended up coming up with a top 10 female characters + reasons and I probably went way overboard like this is so long and I’m sorry. So unfortunately I haven’t made a list for male characters because I got so extra with this female characters list, but another time perhaps. Anyway, top 10 female characters here we go!!

10. Piper Mclean, Heroes of Olympus series - I think what I really like about Piper is that she has a lot of qualities that badly written female characters tend to have, but… she’s written well. What I mean is like… Piper is selfish. She’s whiny. She’s a brat. She’s emotional. Usually when a female character has traits like that, she isn’t likable and probably wasn’t intended to be. But Piper is given a depth and respect that those other female characters aren’t usually afforded. She’s flawed, but she knows it, and she hates her flaws and she tries to better herself. And she’s more than those flaws too! She’s brave and kind and loving, and her emotions - all of them, no matter how ugly - are ultimately her strength. I love that she’s allowed to be so emotional, that it’s good that she’s so emotional, because I feel like there’s this idea that female characters have to be emotionless in order to be “strong” or whatever so anyway yeah I love Piper

9. Emily Davis, Until Dawn - I have a knack for taking a liking to female characters that the majority of the fandom hates, and then loving them even more out of spite. Admittedly, a lot of my aggressive love for Emily is a reaction to the amount of (unfair, reeking of double standards and sexism) hatred she gets in the fandom, but even disregarding that, I do really like her. I started liking her very early on in Until Dawn. She seemed like she had a lot of personality and I liked that, and I only liked her more as the game went on. I mean… I literally have a post listing all of the reasons that I love Emily so that should tell you everything, right?

8. Amethyst, Steven Universe - I hesitated to put Amethyst on the list, since I’m not sure if she technically counts as “female”, but at the very least I think it’s fair to say that she’s female-coded and female-aligned so… I thought it would be okay? She would probably have been a lot higher up if not for the fact that I’ve lost a lot of my interest in SU, but I still love Amethyst a hell of a lot. I relate to her very strongly, for reasons that are not super comfortable to talk about. Much like Amethyst, I tend to bottle up everything and let it eat away at me until everything just explodes in the ugliest way. I think very little of myself, but I try my best to stay chill-passing because I’d rather die than tell anyone how I’m actually feeling. I don’t like going into detail about this but basically Amethyst is important to me because I relate to her in a lot of ugly and painful ways, and loving Amethyst is almost like learning to love myself. Almost.

7. Princess Bubblegum, Adventure Time - It’s funny that Adventure Time as a whole is one of those “I Definitely Like This But I’m Not Super Passionate About It” things, but there are like, four things in that show that I do feel Super Passionate about. Princess Bubblegum is one of them (the other three are Ice King, Marceline, and Bubbline, in case you were wondering). Gotdamn dude I love Princess Bubblegum and I think she doesn’t get nearly enough attention for being as interesting as she is. From the beginning I loved how she was simultaneously really sweet and morally ambiguous, that’s a really funny and intriguing dichotomy. I love that while she’s ultimately working for the Greater Good™, she’s really ruthless and vindictive. She has good intentions but she’s so very flawed, and she can be downright terrifying. Bubblegum is just endlessly fascinating to me and I really love her.

6. Cassie Cage, Mortal Kombat - Well obviously she had to be on this list, she’s where I got my url from. My love for Cassie Cage is less about who she is and more about what she represents to me, I think. Mortal Kombat isn’t exactly known for having great depictions of female characters but they did improve a lot in Mortal Kombat X, and I fell in love with Cassie partially because, to me, she embodied a lot of the positive changes. I loved that she was the heroine of MKX, I loved that she wasn’t overtly sexualized, I loved that she was funny and confident and just so damn cool, in that way that classic action heroes are cool. Chewing bubblegum and flipping people off and sassing everyone and just being exactly what comes to mind when you think “bad ass”. She was so different and so unexpected and I was so pleasantly surprised with Cassie Cage.

5. Katniss Everdeen, The Hunger Games - Katniss is one of the most important fictional characters ever written okay. This is a girl who grew up in extreme poverty, who took it upon herself to take care of her family at age 12, who was hardened because of her circumstances but still compassionate, and still so vulnerable. She suffered from severe PTSD, she was used as a pawn by the Capitol and by the rebels, she was manipulated and taken advantage of and she lost everything because of it. And in the end she still found a way to stand up and keep going. She didn’t magically get better but she made a life worth living for herself, even if she had to constantly remind herself of the good things in her life. I fucking love Katniss okay.

4. Jaehee Kang, Mystic Messenger - Yeah I kind of feel like trash for having a character from a god damn dating sim on here but tbh Mystic Messenger is so good it makes me angry (you are a dating sim what business do you have being that good fuck you) so I don’t feel too much like trash. Only a little bit like trash. Anyway, Jaehee. Holy god where do I even start. She is just so beautiful. That’s the first word that comes to mind, and I’m not even talking about her appearance (although yeah she’s definitely very attractive). It’s just her, man. She is so kind, so patient, so hard-working, so strong after everything she’s been through. I love that even though outwardly she’s more serious and formal than most of the other characters, there’s this underlying sweetness and quirkiness that shines through, like when she fangirls over Zen or when she says things like “benefits were effing amazing” when explaining to her boss why hosting fundraising parties is a good idea. I also love that as kind and polite as she is, she can and will mercilessly drag people she’s a fucking savage and I love her. I just love her so much. Jaehee is effing amazing.

3. Asami Sato, Legend of Korra - First of all, she’s canonically a bisexual woman in a relationship with another bisexual woman and that’s super important to me for representation. Second of all, even before Korrasami was made canon I really adored Asami. Because seriously, Asami is one of the kindest and most loyal characters in anything ever, she is such a good person through and through, even though there are so many things that have happened to her that sound like the sort of things that would motivate most characters to be villains. Her mother was murdered, her father was a terrorist who betrayed her and threatened to kill her friends, her boyfriend cheats on her, her closest friend and love interest leaves her for three years, her father fucking dies in front of her after they had just barely started to reconcile. Asami faces so much tragedy, if anyone has a right to be an asshole it would be her, yet she is still so unfailingly kind and brave and good. Also, for the record, she is probably the prettiest animated character I have ever seen in my life.

2. Agent Texas, Red vs Blue - Okay so. Red vs Blue has a lot of… issues with how it writes the few female characters it has, and I’m not going to act like Tex is this amazingly well written female character because she’s really not. But this isn’t my top 10 well-written female characters this is my top 10 favorite female characters, and whatever writing problems RvB may have, I really do love Tex. So much. It’s also a bit complicated to love Tex cause it’s like… which one lmao. I love Beta!Tex, who was tough and snarky and effortlessly bad ass, but also kind and compassionate and very, very chill. Like sure she could kick your ass and you know she could, but eh, she doesn’t really need to. The fact that you know she could is enough. And then there’s Epsilon!Tex, who was just angry, but who in many ways was the most important iteration of Tex to me. She was angry because ffs she was tired of not being her own person. She was tired of Church seeing her as His Girlfriend and not much else, she was tired of being Allison’s shadow, tired of her existence being all about other people, never about herself. Tex’s story is ultimately about a search for agency, to create an identity for herself separate from what other people want from her, and that’s always stuck with me.

1. Hermione Granger, Harry Potter - Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m putting her here because she is genuinely my favorite female character, or I’m putting her here because I can’t imagine putting anyone else here. Though I guess if I can’t imagine putting someone else here, that’s a sign that she is my favorite? Idk. I like Harry Potter less than I once did, less than I think a lot of people in my life realize, but being a Harry Potter Fan is such a big part of my identity to them that I don’t think they can see me any other way. But, even with my enthusiasm for HP these days being relatively low, I can’t deny that the series had a huge impact on me growing up and it definitely did a lot to shape the type of person I am, and it’s always going to be a bit special because of that. Hermione played a big part. She was one of the first female characters I can remember really admiring. I was nothing like her but I wanted to be, because she was smart and bad ass and complex and honestly do I even need to explain why Hermione is amazing? You all know. However I feel about HP now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the impact it had on me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget Hermione.

[trendingnewsb]

What I Expect To See From Politicians Come 2018

As 2017 draws to a close I find myself frustrated and angry daily with what we as a country have had to endure in our political spectrum for the past 2+ years. In an era with information and personal interaction more readily available than ever before in history, we as Americans have been continually fed clichés and bullshit by those who should be leading with clarity and respect for those they serve.

I’m not talking about President Trump when I relay my sentiments of anguish over the current political dialogue. The President is too hopeless a creature to place faith in to rectify the stain he’s left on American political culture. His lack of decency and respect for facts and reality are a disgrace to his office and humankind. A man who attacks our own intelligence communities and endorsed a child molester for U.S. Senate is beyond repair or atonement. It’s those below him who we should be expecting better of who don’t seem to be up to par with standards we deserve.

With journalists and news outlets covering every square inch of Capitol Hill providing updates on any prevalent topic, any room for less than transparent behavior should be getting smaller by the day. Citizens have never been more privy to the same analysis and information regarding any hot topic that lawmakers receive as they are in 2017.

More now than ever casual observing citizens can plainly see surface level interactions in Washington. There’s far less of an ability to sneak in bills, repeal an executive order, or nominate an absolute trash judicial nominee for a lifetime appointment without the American people being alerted to it. With every move on their chessboard openly free to be seen and scrutinized, is it so much to ask for our elected reps to give us the due process and breakdown from the actual horse’s mouth?

The tax and healthcare debates were accompanied with minute by minute updates, and repeated breakdowns over policy choices and their implications. This goes double for foreign policy or social transgressions, as both social media and the news cycle bring us every angle and fact related to some controversial action or stupid fucking tweet.

With all this in mind, politicians in the social media age owe us both personality and transparency. We’re fortunate to still be surrounded by great journalism and infinite knowledge one smartphone away; why do our elected representatives treat us like we’re subject to their word and their word only? Could 2018 be the year when we finally get our politicians holding themselves accountable for the factual basis of what they say and acknowledging their own rights and wrongs?

Policy disagreements are the tip of the frustration iceberg. They’ll always exist. What’s disgusting is how our elected and appointed representatives have only further victimized Americans by disrespecting and eroding societal norms. I’m so goddamn tired of watching politicians escape personal accountability about their positions or actions with a tired cliché or bullshit argument. The lack of ability to explain in detail decisions and beliefs to their constituents in favor of throw-away phrases and aversion to factual debate has blown my fucking mind all year. Take Texas Senator John Cornyn, who has hopped on the “fake news” bullshit train that seems to have taken over half of the country.

Twitter

Twitter

Instead of responding to disagreements and allegations with a factual and informed response, Cornyn lazily hurls the term “fake news” at something he doesn’t like. In this era it has never been easier to put out a detailed response in your own words (or whoever you have handling all your statements) via a social media account or any sort of press release that could be seen instantly. Next year I’d like to see politicians bring back their respect to hardworking journalism, and have the gumption to actually factually challenge a disagreement instead of flippantly waving a hand it with a phrase popularized by a con-man. Be better than a con-man, especially if we’re paying your salary.

Simply dismissing anything as “fake news” or wrong without backing a point up is nothing short of irresponsible from someone whose salary is paid by taxpayer dollars and should hold themselves to a standard of complete transparency and basis of fact regarding any statement or belief. If we as citizens can look up accurate reporting and use it as our basis of why we feel a certain way, lawmakers owe us the same effort.

Partisan tribalism has been at its peak in the past year, and this is another trend we have to expect better out of our elected reps, especially in terms of common sense moral arguments. In 2017 we have a political party that supported a highly documented accused child molester for Senate simply for the sake of a stronger party majority. We’ve seen statements regarding sexual assault dictated based on how the accused “R” or “D” lines up with your own. We’ve seen lying on government forms be waived off like it’s nothing; why can’t next year we have our capital be filled with elected reps who actually care about holding themselves and our government to high standards?

Our moral compass as a nation has eroded because of a lack of accountability from our leaders. Frankly watching politicians bend over like a good boy for the President, completely ignoring their own moral conscience, regarding his conduct, nepotism, and general disdain for respect of the office he holds has been more depressing to watch than the President himself. Ignorance on common lack of decency and anything less than respectable conduct worthy of your nation can no longer be ignored. Our three branches aren’t the kitchen at a Waffle House, they’re the three cogs that keep our nation from imploding. I’d hope our politicians can give more of a shit about cracks in the cogs.

In 2018 politicians need to simply be so much better than they have been. Our nation is at a moral compass crossroads. If we want to deviate from the toxic message spreading from the very top that reeks of partisanship, blatant and baseless accusations of bias and falsities against our intelligence agencies and credible journalism outlets, and lack of human decency and common sense, then in the coming year our elected politicians must answer the call of true leadership. One man and one administration can do immense damage on our nation’s reputation and credibility as a whole, but an entire complicit political system can permanently derail it past a point of no return.

In 2018, I hope like hell that leadership at all levels can move on from a simply dismissive attitude towards any disagreeing article or directed tweet. Being able to simply scream “fake news” with zero factual basis behind the scream may work for someone who’s forgone any sense of decency and self-respect, but any politician who wishes to retain a sense of pride and duty should strive to hold themselves to a higher standard. Next year I want to see politicians who take a stand with fact and merit-based arguments. Any personal or political attack should be met with opposition that goes deeper than the surface of “nope that’s wrong” or “the other party is just lying.” Be better than a quick disagreeing tweet or a two-minute cable news appearance. We’re in the age of mass information and outreach; use it.

If any public figure is proud of a policy, declarations, or an endorsement, don’t be afraid to back it up with a resounding “why I feel this way.” Don’t use your Twitter account for a quick dismissal or approval; go in depth. We as constituents deserve deeper thoughts and explanations, and it’s not as though we aren’t willing to read them. This year we’ve gotten to witness bills and policies rushed through with little explanation. There’s no excuse for that now. Take the time to reach out through written or spoken word. Any dingus can write a long note or essay and tweet it, or record a video breaking down why your vote or your philosophy went a certain direction; we as a public have to demand that from those whose salaries we pay to govern us to the best of their ability.

We shouldn’t be content with open flowing rhetoric during a campaign followed by short generalities during time served. I want our politicians to bring back a respect to proper order and sharing details. No bills or policies should be rushed past the American people—not with a social media and journalists so quick to draw question to methods and call bullshit on quick procedure. The ability to share precise details on why bills are written as they are to the American people should be embraced, not shunned or avoided. We deserve better than rushed process, ignored CBO scores, and dismissal without response. Hold yourselves as accountable for deviance from respectable procedure and hypocritical rhetoric as you’d hold the other party.

Next year our leaders need to abandon fierce tribalism in favor of simple common sense. Why does the H.W. Bush-led Republican party having the wherewithal to refute a Republican candidate for Louisiana Governor with KKK ties seem like far longer than twenty-six years ago? Accepting demons, on either side, for the sake of a party majority is something that just can’t continue. Try simply holding yourself to a test of, “Would I sit quiet with my thumb up my ass and make excuses if this was the other party?” Quit ignoring blasphemy, hypocrisy, and atrocity at the sake of toeing a party line. We had to watch a party throw support behind an absolute openly fucking heinous human being in the Alabama Senate election; don’t ever subject the American people to that again, no matter what letter is in front of their name.

In the social media age politicians owe us personality as much as transparency. The one thing you can say positively about Trump is that he uses his ability to let the American people know what’s on his mind as well as anyone in the public eye. While what’s on his mind might be a dumpster fire of lies, attacks, and false reality, it offers a glimmer of how politicians could actually use Twitter for (gasp) positivity.

I’d love to see my reps letting us know how or why we should get behind their new legislation; why it’s a passion for them. I’d appreciate hearing commentary on the day’s events that sounds like it’s coming from a real human, not a 1950’s typewriter making sure to hit every cliché and really give away very little opinion against the grain on anything. Give me someone who’s willing to truly speak their mind, with factual base, and do away with the constituent/representative relationship that exists solely through safe press releases. Our reps shouldn’t be afraid to show their personality through a media presence. Be more than clichés and press releases.

Due order, fact based argument, and transparency. That’s not too much to ask in exchange for nice suits and a cushy government salary. It’s been a personal hell to watch our political norms disintegrate and institutions we’ve held so dear be slandered. Hold yourselves to a higher standard for the American people in 2018. You don’t work for party wins, or donors, or even the President. You work to do what’s best for us. We deserve to see you’re making every effort to do just that.

Read more: https://thoughtcatalog.com/kyle-bandujo/2017/12/what-i-expect-to-see-from-politicians-come-2018/

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