#well boo fucking hoo it goes on the list of shit i fucked up and gets brought again

[baekuras]

throwback to that one morning where i caught the tailend of the whole religious 5minutes of the radio where they basically said "It's fine to make mistakes AS LONG AS YOU BEG GOD FOR FORGIVENESS FOR MAKING THEM"

like...bitch what the FUCK kinda stupid ass take is that?

you make mistakes every day. it came free with the being human.

chill

[evilminji]

*slams the door open, eyes manic* Sovereign State!

A Sovereign State: "International law defines sovereign states as having a permanent population, defined territory, a government not under another, and the capacity to interact with other sovereign states."

The USA already HAS several that exsist within its boarders? And there was that Gay Island of Australia (no really, look it up.) There is a LONG history of humanity going "well fuck you too then, I'm leaving. But also I refuse to leave. I am METAPHORICALLY leaving." *leaves your country and makes their own*

And??

Where's the FUCK were you? Mr. President? During that INVASION by Pariah Dark??

No, really. Social contracts, my dude. That is WHY you have AN ARMY. For INVADING FORCES.

You ALSO have declared us, your citizens, non-sentient and stripped of us our Constitutional Rights WITHOUT hearings, studies, or any due processes. Not to mention just desecrating the dead like it's NOT a well known religious and moral taboo. AND attacking out dead family members! The list goes on!

Why do we pay you taxes, if YOU are the active threat to us AND you offer us no social services?? You've all but cut Amity off anyway!

.......*Takes our ball and goes home* FUCK IT.

They are literally Limnals. It's a TOWN OF METAS. Can you honestly tell me that they WOULDN'T look at the Ecto-Acts and just think: "Yeeeeeah, how about No. Hard Pass."

You can have your INCREDIBLY stupid and offensive law. In OUR country, that's illegal. "We can't do that?" Yes. We can. We informed you in a Formal Document, which you received, you had the opportunity to STOP us, you did or could not, AND we got Regonized by another government.

It's a Ghost Goverment. We, the city state of Amity, were recognized by like... going on 23 at this point. We have a list. All Ghost Goverments, too. Sucks for you that you don't recognize those, they've decided not to recognize YOURS back until you do.

Politics, baby~

Aaaw D:> Does the Upset Baby wanna call, Superman? Boo Hoo. Somebody's forgetting the Justice League serves EARTH, not AMERICA. Suck on a lemon and die mad about it. Better not come back as a Ghost though! Your Goverment will declare you a lab specimen!

Now if you'll excuse us, WE have interplanetary trade routes. Because WE can use alien tech from our Ghost Buddies. And the Fenton Anti-Creep Barrier means you can't do SHIT. So *large crowd of teenagers making rude noises at frustrated government officials*

*Justice Leauge taking picture in the background* You're doing great sweeties! Aquaman is? So proud of the younger generation? They really are the future, you guys. Can he come in?

Oh of COURSE, your Majesty! *somehow ONLY Aquaman is able to get past the barrier, much to the impotent fury of the GIW and various officials*

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I'm not white

You are not white. No really no one is "white". And I'm sick of this bullshit of people saying, "White" this and "Black" that and "Brown" this. Just stop. Judging people by skin pigment is something that we should not be doing at any point. And yet, the people that are "the most against racism" as it were, are insistent we continue to use these terms and so much so that if you are pale AT ALL you "should be considered white". Meanwhile you actually make it easier for people to be racist when you do this.

And you make the spreading of hate that much easier. "Boo hoo wyte pepo so bad they evil with no soul and something something melanin gives empathy". Shut the ever loving fuck up.

Frankly, it pisses me off more than anything to hear that kind of bullshit. AND YES that is a real thing people have said. We need to get away from labeling people as white, black, brown, etc, etc. Why? Easy, because if we are being honest here, it's kinda ignorant. I'm of French/Irish descent and I was born and raised in the US. Simple. And the same way I can say that. A "Black" man could be of Jamaican descent and also be born and raised in the US. Hell, he could be from Haiti and be a 3rd generation US citizen who's parents did REALLY well for themselves. You don't know. And that's the point.

You CAN'T know. It's just, "Oh this person LOOKS pale. We will just label him white, say he's never suffered oppression or discrimination at ALL and say that he is privileged." It's disgusting.

I've seen someone say that to a friend of mine, who's family barely survived the Holodomor, that he was just a "privileged little white boy". Excuse the fuck out of me but WHAT?! Kindly LTG.

Fact is in the US funny enough, those of Asian descent do better than almost ANY demographic in the US at all. People from India, Japan, China, South Korean, Taiwan, Philippines, etc, etc. Not "White". Which funny enough. Calling someone "White" and then saying, "White people have no culture" is some of the most racist and xenophobic shit I hear in my life. Why? Well let's look shall we. Where are can you find "White" people?

Russia

Brazil

Ukraine

South Africa

Spain

Mexico

Puerto Rico

Chile

Poland

England

Czech Republic

Switzerland

Canada

France

Germany

Ireland

Scotland

Finland

United States

And the list goes on. So you are going to tell me that NONE of the people from these countries have a culture. That they are just one with the "White Conglomerate" as it were? If you think as such then YOU are the racist. And also Xenophobic as well. We need to find a way to stop this "skin tone classification" bullshit. Especially since we seem to be EXPORTING IT to every other country in the world. Which, newsflash, is making things in the world THAT MUCH WORSE. And what's better? It's "well to do liberals" doing it. Congrats. You are making the world a worse place because you can't stop being racist little shits.

Am I blaming all liberals? No. Many? Absolutely.

We need to put a stop to this. And it needed to stop AGES ago.

[winderlylandchime]

2/2 ‘BRIAN ISNT AN ASSHOLE! How did he find out? It’s not like you guys are the smartest fucks on the planet. Exactly he is great in bed, im glad you know that you are no match, Trevor (me: who tf is trevor) *flaps his arms at Ethan* he is not worth my memory! OH LOOK AT THAT YOU GOT DUMPED! now you got no one! He’s going back to his violi- I TOLD YOU HE JERKS OFF TO IT! *pauses tv* ISNT THAT THE PAINTING JUSTIN MADE? I swear thats Brian and hum fucking. The problem is, I want Bri and Justin. But Brian is NOT a consolation prize!..oh so you get dumped by the guy that looooves you and suddenly Brian is good enough? Now i am officially pissed off on my dudes behalf! AND HE WAS AWAKE WAITING TO SEE WHO JUSTIN CHOSE. FUCK THIS ENTIRE FUCKING THING!..and of course Brian is immediately ready to cuddle up to him and hold him cause he knows. This is breaking my heart. Fuck this and especially FUCK whoever wrote this shit, i hope they step on a lego!’ He is so angry and upset that he can’t even form a reaction to Emmett/Ted or anyone else so he just keeps groaning. ‘fuck you Justin, you know damn well he did this for YOU not him. If itd be for him, he’d be doing the interview! He doesn’t love you? You know what? I’m done. EXACTLY MIKE. fuck you Justin, Michael for ONCE did the right thing and you’re pissed. He at least had some decency unlike you. You’re only sorry that you got caught. I wanted them together so badly. But this *flaps his arms* not it. Brian deserves to be picked as a first choice! Not a “welp the other guy backed out so i guess you’ll do”. So now I don’t want them together even though it will kill my boy Bri Bri but I will be there for him! And maybe he can meet someone new and Justin will get jealous and win him back. Yes, i like this plan’ He fucking made a paper air plane and threw it at Ben and said ‘here, get on it and fuck off, nobody cares about you right now’ He really is losing his mind. ‘LOOK AT THIS PARTY! And that fucker wants to say he did it for himself? Fuck all of this. Can he throw me a party? Awww look it’s Jen!! Yeah, Deb..one of them truly is UNBELIEVABLE. BRIAN IN THE MASK!!! Do you think that seeing Rage and JT kiss will make Justin have this deja vu to him and Bri Bri kissing and he will realize a thing or 6? “After what he told you?” JUSTIN, do you realize how fucking ridiculous that sentence is?! Might as well just look at him and say “after he ruined my chance to continue cheating on you” WHAT THE FUCK. And still, Brian cares about him and his future. He is a much better person than me’ He is now convinced that Justin/Brian stay together because of his rage/jt theory but he is stressed since the ep is coming to an end..’BRIAN IS LOOKING FOR HIM!!! HELL YEAH HE WANTS TO BE WITH HIM! FOR ONCE MEL IS SMART!…He’s fucking himself, that’s actually impressive. Damn this isn’t a good thing but it’s nothing new so why is he acting hurt? NO NO NO WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?!?! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GET HIT BY A BUS! oh boo fucking hoo, i have no proof but I’m sure Beethoven would think you suck. He has a weird tendency to blame Justin for him fucking up… THIS IS NOT WHAT I PLANNED! Nooooo Brian! BRIAN IS GONNA SEE THEM! NOOO NOOOOO, THEYRE KISSING! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK! Oh look Deb doesn’t look happy! Deb be on my side please! I know i hated you for a few episodes but we both feel the same way about Bri Bri! BRIANS HURT. OH YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH HE IS MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH BRIAN, he’s doing this shit on purpose. THATS RIGHT TAKE THAT MASK OFF AND TOSS IT TO TRASH! Fuck you Justin. At least show some remorse. Brian baby, i wanna hug you. And here he goes pretending like he’s fine. Justin, no offense but you are officially on my shit list’ He then proceeded to put his head in his hands and just stare at the floor for 5 whole minutes. Until he got up, took his pills, grabbed a soda and his cigarettes and went outside and I heard him talking to my neighbor so I went outside and he pointed at me and went ‘no! You are the reason for this heartbreak so go away!’

AND HE WAS AWAKE WAITING TO SEE WHO JUSTIN CHOSE. FUCK THIS ENTIRE FUCKING THING!..and of course Brian is immediately ready to cuddle up to him and hold him cause he knows. This is breaking my heart. Fuck this and especially FUCK whoever wrote this shit, i hope they step on a lego! <- the most relatable reaction to such a heartbreaking scene

I am dying over his Rage/JT theory and wish it were true (I mean, not really but in the moment that all this unfolds I wish it were true)

He has a weird tendency to blame Justin for him fucking up… <- Um, this is some really insightful stuff. Ethan really does have that pattern, doesn't he? Wow.

He then proceeded to put his head in his hands and just stare at the floor for 5 whole minutes. Until he got up, took his pills, grabbed a soda and his cigarettes and went outside and I heard him talking to my neighbor so I went outside and he pointed at me and went ‘no! You are the reason for this heartbreak so go away!' Oh our man is really going through it. Very relatable. I'm very excited for him see S3 and all the goodness there. He's going to die the punch. AND THEN over the Stockwell arc.

[trashyswitch]

Dark Interrogations (With a Light Spin)

Roman gets interrogated for the robbery of a hoodie, a hat and a deodorant. Remus, Janus and Virgil work together to make Roman confess to his crimes and admit as to their location...

This has the 'tickle interrogation' trope going for it so if you're uncomfortable with that, I am very sorry. There are also some swear words, so you have been warned.

This fanfic goes out to @smileheart110 on Tumblr. Link

This fanfic also goes out to @kennabelee because I wanna. XD

So Smileheart and Kenna, I hope you both (and others) enjoy!

A pair of high heels could be heard echoing through the room...a paper was shuffled with...and a pencil was heard being used despite the pitch black darkness.

“Roman ‘Princey’ Sanders…” Someone said.

The name called, hummed in confusion as he registered who the voice belonged to.

“...What in royalty are you doing, Library boy?” Roman asked.

“Oh...Right I forgot he could recognize our voice.” The person admitted.

“We have the same voice.” Someone else said.

“I’m gonna turn on the liiiight~” someone else said before switching on a lamp. Roman squinted at how surprisingly bright the lamp was. He expected one of those modern lights with the slow build up to brightness. You know, the eco-friendly ones? But nope. Not here. The voices of the ‘strangers’ didn’t always have a green thumb.

Roman looked up at the faces that were staring him down. One of them was holding a clipboard and a pencil. Another one was holding pieces of paper. And the last one was giving him the death glare with a small box in his hand.

“Welcome to the interrogation room. You can refer to me as Deceit...Or Janus, if you want to.” Janus started.

“You can refer to me as Virgil...I prefer it that way. No ‘emo’, no ‘panic at the everywhere’, and no ‘kitty cat’ either. I’ve heard you and your list.” Virgil warned.

“And I’m starving.” Remus admitted.

Virgil sighed. “Remus we know.” Virgil growled.

“Can we hurry this up?” Remus asked. “I haven’t had my hourly deodorant because SOMEONE STOLE IT!” Remus smacked his hand onto the desk to scare him.

But hilariously enough, Roman didn’t even flinch. “Awww, boo hoo.”

Remus looked at Janus. “Can I slap him with your heel?” Remus asked.

“NO.” Janus and Virgil both shot back.

“Dammit…” Remus muttered.

“Heel?!” Roman looked down and sure enough, Janus was wearing heels. “...Huh…”

“Eyes up here asshole.” Virgil ordered. “Where are our things?” Virgil asked.

“What things?” Roman asked, pretending to be naive.

Virgil slammed a paper onto the table, revealing the hoodie...But the picture used to represent it, looked really poor quality.

Roman smirked. “Did you get that from clipart or something?” Roman asked.

Janus sighed. “It was the best we could do. Please stay focused.” Janus told him.

“Where is it?!” Virgil asked.

“Chill out man! I didn’t mess with your hoodies!” Roman reacted.

“It’s ONE hoodie, and it’s MISSING. And you’re the only one dumb enough to take it.” Virgil spat.

“Emo.” Roman spat back with a smirk.

“Prick in my ass.” Virgil shot back.

“Oooooh! Okay, boogeyman~” Remus teased.

“Ew!” Virgil turned to Remus. “Don’t you dare use your serial killer references on me!” Virgil ordered.

“Sorry, sorry…I’m just hangry…” Remus admitted.

“Really? What a surprise…” Janus muttered.

Roman chuckled. “Someone should make a tv show based on all of you.” Roman reacted.

“Brooklyn 99 is the equivalent of that already.” Virgil reminded him.

Virgil placed another paper down. “What about this? Where is it?” Virgil asked.

Roman sighed and looked down. This time, it was a picture of deodorant...but it had a leaf on the label with the word ‘Peppermint’ on the front. Roman guffawed. “No, I haven’t seen Remus’s ‘peppermint’ deodorant!” Roman laughed.

Janus blinked and checked the label. “Oh...Oops.” Janus admitted. “Anyway-” Janus placed the paper down. “You know what we really mean in this situation. Where is it?” Janus asked.

“I don’t know. I thought you hid it with your magic?” Roman replied, looking at Remus.

Janus sighed. “And as you can tell, this:” Janus showed a colored picture of Roman holding his hat, with the bowler hat circled with a red marker. “Where is my hat?”

Roman giggled and changed his voice. “Look! I’m Woody! Howdy Howdy Howdy!” He imitated.

Janus snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “AHA! So you DID steal it!” Janus declared. “And that means you stole everything else TOO!” Janus yelled.

“Whaaaat...if I was simply making a reference?” Roman asked.

“You weren’t.” All three interrogators said at the exact same time.

Roman’s smirk dropped. They really could read through his tricks…

“Where’s. Our. Stuff. Roman?” Janus asked, leaning forward to glare at Roman closely.

“Up. Your. Scaled. Tushy.” Roman spat back.

“Alright get the tools.

“Tools?! Seriously?!” Roman reacted.

“Yes, of course! We need to scare our thief into confessing to their most evil crimes known to man!” Remus told him. “Stealing. Our. Precious. Props.” Remus told him.

Virgil pulled out a toothbrush and clicked a button to turn it on. The electric tooth brush started humming and vibrating, leaving Roman confused. “You’re...gonna brush my teeth to death?” Roman guessed.

Virgil giggled evilly. “Think again, Ro.” While Janus held Roman’s hands behind his back, Virgil walked closer to Roman, pulled up a stool and brought the humming toothbrush closer to Roman’s belly button.

The toothbrush had only lowered a couple inches from his belly, when Roman started whining and biting his lip. “Ohohoho noho, you’re worse than yzma.” Roman muttered with a slight wobbly smile growing onto his lips.

“So...Where...is our stuff Ro?” Virgil asked.

“I-I don’t know!” Roman replied.

It was then that Roman SCREAMED and wiggled around as the toothbrush landed right into his belly button.

“I hope you like tickles, Princey~” Virgil teased. “Cause this is gonna last a while if you don’t confess.” Virgil added.

“WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEREHEHEHE!” Roman begged already.

“Woooow! Begging already?” Remus reacted. “I’m surprised! You can defeat a giant dragon witch, but you can’t handle a little tickwing to the bewwy button?” Remus teased.

Roman tugged on his arms to try and get out as his belly button was tormented with only a single little circular toothbrush. Man, being ticklish sucked right now!

Virgil stopped the electric toothbrush, but kept the toothbrush in his belly button. While this was happening, Janus leaned into Roman’s ear and clicked his tongue. “You gonna tell me where the stuff is?” Janus asked softly.

Roman felt tingles down his spine from both the hot air against his ear, and the super soft voice Janus was using.

Roman looked towards the ear Janus was whispering into. “Jeez, you could do an ASMR video or an ASMR channel if you wanted to! Holy crap!” Roman reacted.

“Answer the question.” Janus ordered with a more stern voice.

Roman looked at Virgil and Remus. “Guys...I seriously don’t know.” Roman told them.

“He’s lying. Vir-”

“Way ahead of ya, Jan.” Virgil pulled out a huge fan brush, turned on the electric tooth brush and used both items on Roman’s belly button region.

“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA! VIHIHIRGIHIHIHIL STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Roman pleaded.

Janus smirked as he leaned in, and blew cold air onto his neck. Roman squealed and curled his neck, throwing his head back in the process. “JAHAHAHAN!” Roman begged.

Then, Janus grabbed a feather and started tickling up and down Roman’s spine. “EEEEEK! WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Hey Remus...Do you wanna have some fun?” Virgil asked before turning off the toothbrush. Janus stopped the feather and looked at Remus with curious eyes.

Roman took the time to breath in and out as much as he could before the tickling started up again.

“Sure! And I know just the spot~” Remus grabbed a foot rest, placed it between Roman’s lower legs, and tied Roman’s legs to the bars on the sides of the foot rest.

Roman shrieked and tried to lift the foot rest, but a 50 pound dumbbell had been tied to the bottom of the foot rest as well! “NO! YOU’D BETTER NOT PULL THAT ANKLE-BREAKING MOVE FROM MISERY!” Roman shouted at him.

Virgil and Janus widened their eyes at each other while Remus wheezed. “Look around the room, you dumbass! There’s no sledgehammers anywhere here!” Remus reacted through his laughter.

“Except for in the closet…” Virgil muttered.

Remus hummed. “Wait what?”

“There actually is one in the closet…” Virgil muttered again.

Roman let out an ear-piercing SCREAM in horror. “OH FUCK! OH SHIT NO! REMUS YOU DO THAT, AND I’M DIVORCING YOU AS A FUCKING BROTHER-”

“Hey Janus, do you have an extra hand to cover up his mouth?” Remus asked casually...too casually.

Janus nodded and covered up his mouth. With Roman’s screams covered up enough to focus, Remus got up to do his thing. He walked to the closet, grabbed out the sledge hammer and made a large portal. Roman was still breathing heavily and freaking out. But Remus gave the sledgehammer a heave, and threw it into the portal. A loud “OW!” could be heard from within the portal before it was closed up.

“There! No more sledgehammer, and no more scared Roman.” Remus told him.

Roman’s scared face lessened dramatically as he registered the lack of a sledgehammer.

“You can uncover his mouth now.” Remus told Janus. Janus nodded and uncovered his mouth as Remus walked back over. “Now what I was ACTUALLY gonna do...” Remus sat down onto the foot rest, and scooted a bit closer. “Was this:”

Remus reached his hand out and started tickling the inside of Roman’s thigh. Roman widened his eyes, gasped in surprise, and leaned his head to the side as the craving to laugh filled his lungs. Roman tried to hold them back as best he could...But the moment the fingers reached the lower thigh, it was all over.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEK! NOHOHOHOHO! NONONO! NOTTHETHIGHS! HAHAHAHANDS AWAHAHAHAY!” Roman begged.

“Only if you confess to taking our stuff…” Remus reminded him as he moved his fingers to the other thigh.

“BAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAYOKAHAHAHAHAY! FIHIHIHINE!” Roman finally yelled.

Virgil smiled eagerly as Remus stopped his fingers. “Well?”

“Fihihihine...Yohohou wihihihin…*huff* I… *huff* I took ‘em…. *huff* *huff* Took ‘em all.” Roman finally admitted.

Remus smiled proudly and cheered. “YAAAAAY! I did it!” Remus declared.

“Totally didn’t see that coming…” Janus lied with a smirk.

“But wait:” Virgil looked at Roman. “Where did you put them?” Virgil asked.

Remus stopped cheering and looked at him. That was a good question! Where DID he put them?

Roman shook his head. “You said you’d let me go if I confessed. I confessed, so you need to let me go.” Roman told them.

“That’s why we have a tape record-” Virgil looked over at the tape recorder and noticed there was no tape in the tape recorder…

Virgil growled in pure frustration and anger the moment he heard crunching plastic on the other side of the table. Remus had moved himself to the other side of the table and…

..was eating the cassette tape.

“Whath? I goth hungryyy!” Remus reacted. “I’ff been hungry’fr hourth!” Remus added.

“And you couldn’t ASK FOR A BREAK?!” Virgil shouted.

Remus swallowed. “Mm mm. Go on. Keep going.” Remus told them, waving his hand to move them along.

Virgil sighed and looked at Roman. “Are there times you don’t associate with him?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “All the time.” He replied. Rokman yelped as the circular spinning piece from the cassette tape smacked against his forehead. “OW!” Roman yelled.

“Thorry!” Remus reacted.

Virgil grabbed out another item from the tool box. “How about some oil?” Virgil asked.

OH HELL NAW!

Roman squeaked and wiggled around. “Uh uh! No way! Absolutely not! Get that stuff away from me!” Roman threatened.

Virgil giggled and poured some oil into his belly button.

“NOOOOOO!” Roman begged. Virgil grabbed a silicone oil brush from the tool kit, and started brushing and spreading the oil across his whole belly. Roman giggled and snorted as the brush moved everywhere across the regular skin, AND the shiny oiled skin. Whenever the brush would go across the oiled skin, Roman’s laughter would increase 10 fold, or even 20 fold! The oil made so much of a difference on Roman’s belly.

“And now for my new favorite part:” Virgil grabbed out two- TWO separate back scratchers. The metal back scratchers had paws on them rather than the usual fingers, which gave the back scratches metal claws rather than dull nails. Virgil handed one of them to Remus, and got ready to attack.

“NO...NOO PLEASE NO…” Roman pleaded.

“Where are they~” Virgil asked as he and Remus both brought the bear scratchers closer and closer to the belly.

“VIRGIL! REMUS! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW! I! DON’T! KNOW! AAAAAAAAH!” Roman screamed and fell into loud cackles as the bear claws started scritching and scratching all over his poor, oiled belly.

“Where is it, oh ticklish prince of-”

“IHIHIHIN MYHYHY NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAHAND! NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAND!” Roman shouted.

Virgil widened his eyes. “Nightstand?!” Virgil reacted.

Remus got up, placed the bear claw scratcher down and sprinted to Roman’s bedroom. Roman took this moment to breath like his life depended on it. “Yohohou’re...lucky...I’m a side...otherwise...I will have...p-perished…” Roman said slowly.

Virgil laughed. “You wouldn’t have died, you drama queen.” Virgil fluffed his hair.

Janus smiled as he let go of Roman’s hands and wrote down the thief with the location of the items. “A criminal has pleaded guilty today. I say a job well done.” Janus told him. “And I mean it.” Janus clarified, telling him that he wasn’t lying.

Remus sprinted into the room with their stuff, and a mouth full of deodorant. “Hoodie!” Remus threw the hoodie to Virgil. “Hat!” Remus threw the hat frisbee style to Janus. “And MMMMMmmmmm!” Remus dug right into his deodorant like a mad man.

Virgil and Roman both bursted out laughing at Remus’s face, while Janus fixed his hat and hair. “There…” Then, Janus whipped off the high heels. “Finally! My feet can rest happy without these stupid heels!” Janus declared.

“FREE HEELS!” Remus declared, picking up the heels and sprinting out of the room.

Virgil shrieked and sprinted after him. “REMUS GIVE ME THOSE HEELS NOW, YOU ARE NOT HITTING PEOPLE WITH THEM!”

Roman bursted out laughing at their silliness and looked at Janus. “So...You gonna start that ASMR channel?” Roman asked.

Janus leaned into his ear with a smile. “Maybe~” He whispered.

Roman giggled nervously and covered his mouth. The teaser was already a huge indication that he was gonna DIE listening to Janus’s voice!

...A loud “OW! VIRGIL!” could be heard from all the way down the hall…

Those silly dark sides...

Also YES, 2 FANFICS TODAY! AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME??? :D

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

you said on twitter you could have played up some lines more in jakuramu’s date....... which lines are the extra gay lines 👀

Oh, I was going to confine being an obnoxious shit to Twitter in a thread, but fuck it, I can be obnoxious here too. Dual wielding.

A list of lines I had to no homo a little in order to fit with what I think they were going for, not necessarily how I interpreted it (and other assorted thoughts from this chapter):

Wow, so learning to rap from Ramuda is really better than “anything else” you’ve done before, Jakurai? I see how it is.

Wow, so you started liking rapping because of Ramuda, Jakurai? I see how it is.

I really can’t believe the fact that Jakurai walked into a doorway because he was too busy looking at Ramuda. This is a thing. That is canon. Bruh. Where’s the Kuukou image?

This is just how Japanese works, so it isn’t innuendo, but I had a pretty good snicker at Ramuda saying, “Of course it happened. Jakurai’s body is too big. It’s natural you hit your forehead on that narrow entrance!” My maturity is that of a twelve-year-old.

The “put a bandaid on your boo-boo” bit is Ramuda offering to sing Jakurai a little “pain, pain, go away” song in Japanese. I saw MC Mad Lion on Twitter (a true intellectual) localizing that as offering to kiss Jakurai’s booboo, and I was like, “Damn, true genius.”

This isn’t in the manga, but there’s a whole bit in the drama track in the waterfall scene where Ramuda wonders if Jakurai goes to the gym. Okay, Ramuda. They also have a conversation about what it’s like when Jakurai get out of the shower.

The fucking. Oh my god. “I’ll follow your lead to the end of this adventure” line. This line will be the death of me. I legitimately can’t express the way it sounds to me in Japanese. More literally, it’s “Let me accompany you until the very end” or “Let me follow your lead until the very end”. The verb Jakurai uses can also be read as “to date”, although that’s not how he means it here. Still, I like to amuse myself by imagining otherwise. (Hifumi and Doppo use this word a lot, which provides me with hours of free entertainment.)

Mostly unrelated, but I translated “Goodness, Amemura, you really are something else...” as “Amemura, you really are one kind of a kind...” in the rough draft. Had a little laugh. Changed it.

I had to get a little funky with the “Something got you smiling, Jakurai?” bit. The original has Ramuda asking Jakurai what he found fun, and Jakurai answers with the swings. The issue is that Japanese is much more loose with tenses than English, so this + the demands of the text boxes meant that this didn’t work well no matter what I tried. Anyway, I need you to see what this looked like in the translation doc because hoo boy.

“It’s rather odd to be back here now with you” was originally “Being here with you now gives me a mysterious feeling.” Jakurai, you are fucked.

Jakurai’s really like, “Yeah, I went out and hung around with Ramuda all day which let me face my heart and accept who I am, although I may be different from others. I would never have realized this without Ramuda.” Jesus fucking christ, man. Who let this be canon? I am so angry. How dare King Records give me exactly what I want?

I lowkey (highkey) hate the “Let’s make the world fun!” line of Ramuda’s because I feel like this isn’t a good wording of it, but it’s also a hella significant line. He uses this around people he cares for (see Fling Posse), and to be honest, the world is not really a fun place for Ramuda. Ramuda’s life fucking sucks. Coming in on the tail end of Jakurai’s comment about Ramuda always smiling (which broke my god damned HEART, btw), Ramuda’s emphasis on a “more, more” fun world makes it sound like he actually wants to smile for real for once. And that he trusts Jakurai enough to think they can make this be a reality. Fuck.

“I’m sure we can if we work together” is another line I can’t express how it makes me feel in Japanese. More literally, it’s “Yes, if you are with me, then I have a feeling it can be done.” The way it’s worded makes it sound (to me) like it wouldn’t be possible UNLESS Ramuda and Jakurai are a part of the arrangement (with the focus being on Ramuda). That and the face Jakurai makes... AY DIOS MIO. Can’t handle this. Can’t. HANDLE. This.

I have so many feelings.

[hargrove-mayfields]

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

[okurrroye]

Ok all I wanted was to laugh about John getting curb stomped but the Ayo tag is a fucking nightmare like wow

Disclaimer I have shit memory so if I say something that doesn’t add up fact wise let me know. But I’m pissed off so here we go-

(FYI all of your opinions should be kept to yourself, so don’t comment if you fail to read my entire post so thanks)

I know this has been discussed, but there are things that have been left out of the argument, or hasn’t even been considered when it comes to the big I speak no I see no I hear no evil scene y’all making it out to be of Ayo disarming Bucky. So gather around here’s the part where you hear me out without scrolling off regardless of your stance on the situation, because I’m here for all opinions afterwards.

First off I can’t even understand why this is controversial at all considering the history that led to this moment. Oh wait I lied it’s literally because either you have your head to far up Bucky’s ass or because he’s a man or because he’s white, or because *ding ding ding * all of the above. And now you’re mad because how dare this black bitch have the nerve-the audacity to do that to poor little old Bucky (now insert the part where you either scroll off, or put your two unwanted cents in before I finish). And this is where you all want to use the empty ass belief that ThE aRm Is A gIfT, or empty ass excuse tHaT’s HiS aRm. Also someone else pointed out well if they didn’t trust him than they shouldn’t have given it to him in the first place. Which yes all are true, but also not at the same time. *Gasp* yes somethings can not be one or other, because ✨ grey area ✨.

Now I don’t know what world you’re living in where you think a gift can not be taken back, and I use the term gift loosely because you can’t even call it that honestly. Because in reality the whole reason he has the arm in the first place is because he needed a new one for infinity war like duh, why have crap heap that’s easily damageable when they can make an indestructible one, to live or not to live like it’s not a hard choice. Then he disappeared for five years so it would be kinda difficult to get an arm back that doesn’t exist anymore. But by the time everyone came back I think an arm was at the bottom of their to do list, or not to mention the fact well it’s already been made, and you probably don’t know how to properly function without both arms yet and can’t afford a normal one yourself so why not just keep it instead of wasting all the time, effort, and resources of making it, but idk I guess that’s a stretch. But since people likes using the gift excuse guess what, a gift is just something you couldn’t afford to do yourself so someone else was kind enough to do it for you (^^^), but in every other since of the word it really belongs to them not you. So let’s give an example shall we, now your parent(s) gave you something you wanted (shit someone else may have bought it for you) but you fucked around and got in trouble and now you’re grounded. Now depending on your parent(s) you’ll either get your ass beat or your shit will get confiscated, or both if you fuck up enough. Now do you think you have any right to say what they can or can’t do? -Yeah I didn’t think so and if you thought otherwise well here comes round two of another ass whopping or the first one if you’re lucky. Or on rare occasions some (white) kids don’t get physically disciplined, but you’re still going to pay the price regardless.

So same situation (yes I know I can’t compare an amputees arm to an object, but I only say that because Bucky is more than that, more than just a arm) but also very much not because in Bucky’s and Ayo’s situation it is much-MUCH worse obviously, but apparently it’s not obvious considering that there’s a debate in the first place. Or in other words you think Bucky’s feelings-FEELINGS are more important then Ayo’s and Wakanda the truth. Which is you’re lucky that it was only his feelings that got hurt, because she (and Yama) could have killed him and everyone else in that room easily so let’s all thank Ayo (and Yama) for her kindness and mercy first and foremost, also for not taking back both the arm and the shield completely. Because that arm and shield is Wakandan property ok so let’s get that straight, so she had every right to take it if she wanted to-whenever or wherever (which also falls into the part where the Dora does has jurisdiction there, and almost anywhere else since most likely every country wants or have vibranium now, and because Wakanda could literally flatten the whole world so yeah they’re going to have a legal pass because who’s gonna want to fuck with them) but she didn’t key word didn’t which should’ve been a clue they would never take the arm or shield back because he is disabled considering even after what Bucky (& John) did.

Not only is it the property of Wakanda but it’s from the only place that was willing, and did help Bucky in every way a person could be helped literally saving this man physically, mentally, and emotionally- like please. Specifically the royal family themselves firsthand which need I remind you is related to the former King that was killed by the man that Bucky escaped from prison without discussing it with them first. That same King, family, and country that Ayo is from, loves, and is to serve and protect. That she will-IS sacrificing and dedicates her life to...she failed them all-failed herself when T’Chaka was murdered like bruh- like that should speak for it self like that is the ultimate betrayal like he literally spat in their fucking face, especially Ayo’s considering she’s the one who gave Bucky back his mind, his freedom and after all that after everything they did for him they still didn’t trust him, and betrayed him by not telling him he had a fail safe in his arm?! Yeah-no big sike, anyone with a brain knows prosthetics because here’s the real kicker ITS NOT HIS ARM thus it’s O M G...removable. Yes you read that correctly r-e-m-o-v-a-b-l-e. Now put that together with the fact that Ayo is highly skilled and an overall badass I don’t think it would be that hard for her to fucking figure out how to dislocate it with a few pressure points considering that’s literally the whole point of striking a pressure point (if he still had his arm then that hit would’ve stopped it from working, but since it’s fake that mf popped right off). Pressure points are used to disable someone, thus Ayo disabling a disabled by disarming his arm to deescalate the situation go figure. It wasn’t a fail safe it’s just skill and common sense that everyone failed to have in the moment and used as a last resort because oh no Bucky’s face, like boo fucking hoo he did it to himself by breaking their trust first, and defending that bitch. Instead of him waiting for the Dora to have Zemo in custody first, what did Bucky do instead? He had the fucking audacity (and that’s how you use the word) to use that same arm against Ayo, against Wakanda. That speaks volumes considering out of respect as a friend or whatever close bond they have (because they definitely have a connection after what they went through together) Ayo still gave him a warning, and time to do what he had to do before they came for Zemo’s ass. Let it be known she didn’t have to do that at all because her loyalty is to and should be to her country first but in those eight hours it wasn’t, it was in the trust of their friendship so therefore she literally was endangering her well being by giving Bucky just that courtesy, and I don’t think you all consider her position in that predicament and thanks to Bucky she could’ve gotten her status revoked, thrown in jail, or worse killed for disobeying orders because let’s not forget Chadwick unfortunately has passed away, and thus it’s a fact that T’Challa is no longer in charge since Marvel will respect that with tampering with his character, so I don’t want to hear she would’ve been just fine because we’ve seen how the royal counsel has a big say on what goes and doesn’t go considering they did not give a single fuck about their own next of kin, Erik who has every right as them, but would have easily killed him just because he was an ‘outsider’ if T’Challa didn’t speak up for him (I mean they abandoned him while leaving him to fend for himself, killed his father and covered it up so wouldn’t put it past them). So if you think when Ayo fucked up again about retrieving Zemo because she trusted, and helped this outsider over her own kind she definitely would’ve been considered a traitor and be punished for her actions.

Can you imagine the hurt, and betrayal they felt? No apparently not, because it’s all about how he’s disabled and how could she take his arm (like uh she literally left it, and the shield for them to keep, and it’s not like he would’ve died without it to begin with unlike Bucky who was willing to sacrifice Ayo’s entire livelihood) when the fact that disabled people say constantly for others to stop putting their disabilities before them, and how they’re just as capable as everyone else. “They are a someone with a disability, not someone who is disabled,” which is absolutely true, because they’re more than that but everyone seems to forget that all of sudden when Ayo detaches Bucky’s arm (I wonder why) and all of sudden he doesn’t have control of his own body like what- he literally used his entire body nonbrainwashed to stab them in the back like miss me with that bs. Him spending five seconds without his arm doesn’t compare especially since they forgave him without even at least an apology at that.

Detaching his arm was a warning that he needed to learn, because they were letting him know, and I emphasize that that arm does not belong to him so how he dare try to use it against the people who gave it to him after they fed, housed, and freed him when no one else could, or would when he’s done nothing in return while as a repayment was being a fucking ingrate. All the while facing no consequences, not even the need for a fucking bandaid *mic drop*.

[antigonick]

Charge.

CONTEXT : I’m not saying 90% of my life is spent babbling about Fallen Hero but you really should check it out.  DISCLAIMER : Not much is mine except for a few shot-in-the-dark head-canons, and everything else belongs to Malin Rydén. WHAT TO EXPECT : Erratic punctuation & coarse language. Mild spoilers. Everybody is halfwitted and loves thinking in italics. Also, I was going to be a cool cat and limit myself to a little bit of fighting, a little bit of thinking, but then BAM this got chargestepped and sappy and out of hands real fast. I have no excuse. 

2010.

First the fist collides with your jaw then you grin.

Duck turn kick (miss) kick (hit) and shift. Shark skin is rough like sandpaper and wet and unyielding, but you track the soft and the weak: eyes squinting in the heat and the supple maw you might be able to break and the snout curved like an arrowhead and that human body, ready to bleed, ready to sizzle, following you between the cars. High up, the press is circling vulture-like; from your little dotted audience you feel the smiles and the gasps and the screams and the sighs skittering in your veins like water boiling. 

It’s been going on a while and you’re hot (more than usual, that is), you ache, the taste of blood goes straight to your head. Shit that’s good. Tap hiss tap dance your heels on the asphalt and in the huge windows of the building from the corner of your eye you can see you. Behind the sweltering quivering heat of summer. Facing the ugly misshapen silhouette of Sharkinator.

You. You in cobalt blue. 

You, turn duck kick (hit) slide punch (miss) run! stop dodge laugh. 

‘Come on, Jaws, show some teeth!’ you taunt and won’t that make a great headline?

In the glass windows the waltz is dizzying, you spy; and Sharkinator snaps at you and you keep eyeing those gills that slice his huge head where it meets his shoulders; because why are they here, because it’s not like they’re any use, it’s not like he’s breathing underwater, so what does he do with those, and you think, what if, what if I spark these up a little?

The fish-man is stewing, whack tap and thump goes his knee against your stomach, a strangled chuckle (from you) and a snarl (from him):

’Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Marshal!’

Uh-oh, nice, so we’re really doing this, hm, we’re going for teeth puns? But you can’t hear your own laughter—you keep eyeing those gills—because the crackling breaks and swells in your ears—you flex your fingers (already itching) (what if, what if I spark these up a little?) and you’re ready when he lunges—parry spin and 

CONNECT.

You’re not ready, though. For what happens next.

You’re not ready for the water.

You don’t get it, you don’t see it, you can’t see it, you don’t think that’s even possible, what in the actual fuck? Fine, fine, keep moving, can’t stop won’t stop, no, wait, it floods you like a dirty leak floods a crumbling basement; cold and murky and popping until something cracks, something breaks, something short-circuits in your head (are your eyes closed?) or in your back and you would laugh, you would, but there’s a moment there when you can’t feel your legs and the whiplash is enough to make you gag in sheer fucking horror.

Though you don’t. You don’t know where you are. Your head is swimming. (Get it? Swimming?)

Fall (on your knees) groan moan

(Is it crackling and bubbling you hear?)

dodge roll (yes) exhale and stand up stanD UP STAND—

‘—UP, STAND UP you fucking idiot!’

‘What… Una?’

‘Sure, yeah, say my name in public why don’t you, and next time maybe tag my phone number on a building while you’re at it?’

‘I mean, I don’t have your…’

‘Shut up and move!’

You glimpse the prone writhing body of Sharkinator but she’s going fast and the sirens howl and with an arm across her shoulders you turn, veer, ugh, you hit a wall or four, stumble, huff, and under your weight she’s seething; you can hear her sharp little muffled voice through the crepitating haze, you just couldn’t wait to show-off you absolute dumbass, you just couldn’t, ready to fry right there on the sidewalk, I can’t believe this shit and also do you think my life-purpose is to save your ass?

It’s a fine ass, you want to say, but your lips feel numb and your shoulder hits the fire escape with a clang (where are you?) and the glare of the day is needling at your brain so you let your head fall a little, on her smooth masked head, just a second, Una, can’t stop won’t stop you know me, just a second and then we—

‘Oh fuck no Ricardo, don’t you dare—’

You definitely dared.

You wake up propped against the brown backrest of your own sofa, eyelids orange, yellow, white, and burning. You can feel her, gloves off, fiddling with your ports. The almost silence, just her breathing and the clinking of metal against metal, a screwdriver? Then, the tentative stirring humming of power under your flesh. The golden smell of coffee somewhere, somewhere close. You flex your hand and she slaps it impatiently, sighs, moves (creak) and comes back. Suddenly there’s a soft, damp, cool cloth against your cheek, hmmm, yes, though—wait—

‘What the hell?!’ you recoil up the backrest, face stinging, ‘is that bleach?’

‘Boo-hoo, don’t be such a baby, you’re too old for that,’ she tosses the soaked towel on the armrest (that’ll stain), smirking her bunny teeth smirk with a glee that’s nothing short of vicious. 

Mask rolled up to the tip of her nose, she flops down on the coffee table one knee up and closes her small white hand scarred and rough around your smiling winking face—well, not yours, but the one printed on the Charge™ mug. 

‘You’re merciless.’

‘Narcissistic much?’ she comments, tipping the mug. 

Here you are, lovingly painted, with tapered waist and rich blue suit and stylised thunderbolts around your head like some kind of storm-born saint.

‘It was… a gift.’

‘From yourself to yourself? I don’t care, I’m keeping it.’

‘Want to build a little Ricardo altar in your room?’

‘I will throttle you in your sleep.’

‘Please don’t wait for me to sleep.’

She might win at elbowing you in the face, but she can’t win at banter, so she snorts and huffs and shrugs, then walks away. You hear her swear low in the kitchen. You wonder if she blushes; her suit comes up to her chin and the mask comes down to her nose and the large turquoise ovals hide her eyes but she has freckles on her hands and a pale mouth that speak of light hair and sunburns. Not that it matters, but the suspense is killing you, right? It’s been killing you for years and it itches like a scab, this not-knowing, this not-seeing, this inch-by-inch, this one wall you can’t skirt jump wreck.

The cold bottle of beer falls in your lap and she sits back on her chipmunk perch one knee up. She snaps her fingers at you.

‘Just put the towel on your face, idiot, you’re still bleeding.’

You open the bottle and the cold brew hits your throat just right, bubbles and fresh bitterness like a jolt to the mind. You still feel hazy and lukewarm, you need hot-wiring.

‘That’s not how human medical care works, you know.’

You think she glares, can’t be sure with those turquoise fly eyes, but she gives you the finger too so there’s a fair chance.

‘Fine, yeah, but also, I’m not your fucking nurse.’

‘You are merciless.’

‘I am. And heartless. That’s my secret. That’s why I keep the mask on.’

‘Robot?’

‘Android. Come to wreak havoc on humanity and take the Rangers out, one by one,’ she deadpans.

Is she fucking with you? 

Of course—still, your heart throbs in delight and your blood bubbles and something drops low in your stomach like jumping from a cliff (no no no don’t think about that) and you can see it in your mind, Una, teeth bared, knuckles white, eyes afire (blue eyes brown eyes grey eyes?), the scheming first, then the bite, the kill; she’s got the guts and the moves and the rabid wrathful kick. She could do it. Well: she could try.

You can, you can see it, the bite the kill—the kiss of death. 

Better not say that crap in front of Chen. He already thinks she’s a double-agent on the loose and you have to weave in and out of this conversation like an eel, laughing brightly, saying come on, come on man, she’s too soft, you’ve seen her coo at dogs when she thinks nobody’s looking.

You swallow the beer and throw her a brilliant smile and lean all the way, arm outstretched to the fruit basket behind her but she thinks you’re—oh—she slides to the side with a sharp jerk; innocently you grab an apricot though you almost laugh when she hisses.

‘Oh yes, the remake would be legendary,’ you purr, mostly to see if she’ll rip your eyes out. ‘You. Me. Los Diablos 2019. I can see it. Babe Runner.’

‘I can’t believe someone made you Marshal. Who the fuck did you bribe?’

‘Don’t be mean, you’re the babe in this scenario.’

You sink into the sofa, stretched out and muscles sore, and when you bite into the apricot with a smile the flesh splits on your tongue like a burst of sunlight. 

She stares. 

She gets up.

She rolls down her mask.

She does blush, doesn’t she?

Looks like you’ve won this round.

‘I’m leaving and you should get some sleep,’ she snaps cradling that mug empty of coffee and full of you. Her mouth is set and her gait is harsh despite your chuckle, but when she walks close there’s a second, a second soft and warm when her naked fingers skim your forehead petal-like but you’re an idiot so you reach to grasp her hand and she punishes you by smacking your head instead.

2021.

First the static sizzles against your eardrum and then you grin.

‘You’re in,’ says Deadeye and nothing else since.

The place’s been on your list for years, but this time it’s going to work, this time you’ve put a wire in its gut, this time you’ve heard it plainly from Manolo himself—she wants to meet them at the Cellar Bar. Hollow Ground. A face for the systemic chaos.

It’s been days but every time you tune in you get this shiver this quiver the urge to pace the urge to laugh the urge to dance no that’s not it—the urge to strike. You’ve turned off your own microphone so that you can tap tap tap throw the ball against the wall, twack whoosh open the beer bottle, click click click shake the painkiller box, crack hmm make your back pop. Better to keep your distance anyway, technology doesn’t like you much. You turn and turn in the little room, you open the dirty glass door and you crouch on the rickety balcony with the long-ranging binoculars, you fiddle and check the monitor and throw your hearing as far as it can go, which is much further than it once could, strain and strain and you write down the names, the places, you hedge your bets, you come at night, you doze and bite your arm, you sigh and stretch and skip, pins and needles under your skin and ants swarming inside your skull, and then

Then, one day.

You catch it.  

‘They’ll be here tomorrow night, her and Nocturne. Make sure everything is ready. Dampeners on.’

‘Seriously? Candlelit dinner with a telepath? Didn’t even know those were still a thing.’

Fuck yes fuck yes. You throw the ball hard against the stone floor and watch the current twitching between your fingers nervous and restless like your brain. You wait a while. You need sleep, you need gear, you dig the heels of your crackling hands against your eyelids and the pain simmers low like a headache. Shit that’s good.

Turn on your heel grab your bag breathe in get out.

Parkfield at night is full of scumbags with impeccable taste in shirts and suits, and if you ever get your  fists on one you’ll have to ask them for their tailor’s number. You can’t compete today, wearing a hoodie stolen from Chen, but still you glimpse you in the shop windows, shoulders stooped, hands hidden, head hung low, and you smirk slow in the shadows. Tonight you see her. Tonight you see Hollow Ground. Tonight the veil falls the light comes the hunt starts or—whatever else they say when an epiphany hits you in the face with a baseball bat.

You press your index to your ear and stop not far from the Cellar Bar, too close for comfort, close enough to get that small delighted shudder of adrenaline along your spine. And then you wait.

You’ve gotten better at that.

Wait listen track.

Grind your teeth shut your mouth bide your time.

You get your money's worth tonight: wait listen track and 

hold your breath—hold… hold… hold on.

The voice you hear buries itself in that soft place beneath your ribs where a blade comes to kill.

‘I'm here for a meeting. I was told to wait at the downstairs bar,’ says the sharp little unmuffled voice.

Really you shouldn’t you shouldn’t be surprised but fuck, tonight? and all the same your blood rushes and pounds and you catch your gasp right before it burns your mouth and sssssssss hums a tremor from your bones to your flesh.

To Deadeye, but in your ear, Una asks:

’Aren’t you coming?’ 

You almost laugh. Dirty talking on the job now, are we?

Tempting really, but first you have to checkmate that filthy little liar and also, fuck, make sure she doesn’t get herself killed, and also, fuck again, make sure she doesn’t get herself hollow-grounded, and also, fuck! Shit, shit, shit. What the hell are you doing? What the hell is she doing? Where the fuck are you going? You sizzling crackling flashing and the audio goes dead and your mind races and splits like lightning. 

Can’t wait can’t stop won’t stop.

It takes everything you have not to break into a run, but then again you couldn’t get inside even if you wanted to, and you tell yourself, she knows what she’s doing, you’ve seen it, Chen’s seen it, you’ve exchanged glances—the querulous stance, the fading bruises, the hard muscle under those ridiculous layers. Seen it felt it. 

You find the grimy back alley and you grit your teeth. The one-way back door is condemned by a huge dumpster. You raise your gaze to the darkened windows, to the flickering streets and all those strangers who couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, hidden that you are by hood and night. Fuck this. Turn rush push. The dumpster whines on its wheels but yields to your hand and releases the door (just in case) and you dance back as fast as you’ve come; turn the corner, and now torture, walk the street once, twice, thrice, tap tap taping your fingers against your thigh.

Two hours days centuries minutes.

Two three four ten twenty.

You walk further and further to cover you tracks. In the shadows you lay your forehead against a coarse wall for a second. Twist, go back. Weave through the streets. Could use a drink, could use a jump, could use a fall. Could use a fight. Could fight Una. You think of that mask all those years ago, that mask rolled to the tip of her nose, and the grave (shit no), and all the masks that came and went, and all the masks that you both still have to peel off, you think of that mirror helmet of… hers? Of course it’s hers. Well, at least you can see yourself in it, and she knows how much you like that.

Suddenly you jolt and you hear, you hear it: the running steps, the scrape of the metal back door, the low swearing, the faraway shouts and the racing on the asphalt and then she hits you square in the chest like the bullet she is.

You exhale a groan and steady her with a hand but she jerks away and she’s ready to split but then her eyes register you and for a second you see it like you saw it in that coffeeshop when she came back from the dead, the deer in the headlights, the panic flaring, the dark twist of her mouth ready to bite. 

So what can you do? Smile, sigh. Laugh. 

‘Fancy seeing you here, lover.’

She’s breathing fast and blinks, fists clenched. She must be really upset, ‘cause you wouldn’t have survived that nickname otherwise. You take her in; the hair mussed, the throat working, the shitty flannel shirt on a large t-shirt. Did she meet and greet the queen of down below dressed like a depressed teenager? Fuck she’s an idiot and irresistible. She’s on the balls of her feet and she’ll punch you soon but you see the soft and the weak, her arm slightly bent, her cut lip, the surprise that you could use to take her out. Then suddenly she barks (attack first think later):

‘I’m working, Ricardo. Are you following me?’

Is she? Is she working? Working for the bane of your damn existence? Tonight the teasing doesn’t flow easy.

‘Working. You’re working.’

‘Working, yeah.’

She’s fucking with you but that’s only fair; after all, you are fucking with her.

‘Shit,’ you say, duly concerned. ‘That boss of yours is running you into the ground.’

She pauses, eyes fixed on yours, warm and dark and wavering. She’s not gonna fall for it. She’s not. She oh, she is. Sharply she turns her head and she sinks all at once, hook and sinker she swallows the lie, ravenous ravenous for half-truths she is.

‘Yeah, she’s a jerk. Listen, I have to go.’

‘Aren’t you going to slap me goodbye?’

‘You’re as disturbed as you are ridiculous.’

‘Whatever you want me to be,’ you tease, but your heart is in your throat.

She snorts and sidesteps you (get it?), ready to disappear, but when she walks close there’s a second, a second soft and warm when your thumb comes and wipes the blood off her mouth, and she’s an idiot so she reaches to grasp your hand and rewards you by kissing your palm instead.

[twoohugs]

BBC Merlin 2x07 The Witchfinder

When your life falls apart fight in front of your eyes and you’re like, oh well.

Merlin, honey, why. That thing is so big people can probably see it in Camelot if they happen to glance out their windows. Why.

So you get 2 seconds of a smiling Merlin and then we move on to the angst

But even the smile isn’t a gleeful happy smile, it’s a bittersweet, melancholic smile, and that’s just sad, like Merlin is now sad by default and the one time he relaxes a little to do something that can make him smile he ends up so much more miserable

This just makes me hate Uther even more (if that is even possible) because he makes his people this scared. Before him, magic coexist with people and it’s ok, now he preaches that magic is a scary evil thing and make people so terrified when they so much as see some weird-shaped smoke. He instilled terror in his kingdom out of his own hatred.

I didn’t notice it at first but this particular line is very, very odd.

This woman came to say she saw something horrible and evil and she is scared so she wants the king to do something about it. She is reporting a crime and asking for protection. You don’t call it loyalty.

You know what you call loyalty?

When she’s given you material you can use to push your own agenda. When she gives you the opening to be even more savage to those you hate.

I think we should be thankful he’s such a dick. Imagine if he’s a bit more polite to Uther and they become friends. The world will end.

Ok but how much of this disbelief is “Merlin? Magic? nah” and how much of it is “Melrin? Evil? nah”? I honestly think Arthur is more likely to believe Merlin is a nice magic guy than an evil non-magic one.

Translation: Uther you fucking hypocrite

He knows this, he says this, and then just 5 seconds later he agrees to let Aredian do what he wants. Uther is not stupid. He knows Aredian method us used to beat people into confessing, whether or not they are guilty. So he knows what the result would be: Gaius will be tortured, and then he will confess. He wanted to believe Gaius is innocent! So why would he do this?

If he doesn’t let Aredian do this, he may never know whether Gaius is innocent or not. But if he lets Aredian do it, Gaius will confess, and he could say, oh dear, so sad, so he is evil after all, and kill him. No more doubt, yay! 

Because he has a slither of doubt, he would do anything to rid himself of it, even if it means sacrificing his (best)friend. It doesn’t matter whether Gaius is guilty, because removing his doubt is more important than justice. Fuck you, Uther, you monster.

See? Seeeeee???

This is not an “omg Gaius you betrayed me I really hoped it was not true” reaction.

This is “tsk tsk, now you admit it!” reaction. It’s almost like he’s been waiting for this. Because he is. Because he already knew what would happen when he lets Aredian “question” Gaius.

And he has the audacity to act so righteous when he goes, oh you betrayed yourself, like no, fuck you, who are you faking, what are you pretending for! And now he can go and tell people I didn’t want to execute Gaius but he’s confessed already whatever could I do? boo fucking hoo!

This just gives me so much feels?

Arthur’s “I’ll deal with this” is actually true because he’s dealing with Merlin being upset and angry. Because he’s going to try to make Merlin feel better. He decided on breaking to law to help in that split second, and he comforts him and said “it’s alright” like, that’s probably as gentle as Arthur can manage?? He understands how much Gaius means to Merlin and he’s trying his best to help?? Thank you Arthur.

This is really funny ‘cause Uther’s like SORCERER!!!!! and Merlin’s like hmm, that worked:)

And then Arthur’s like ewww a toad came out from his mouth

This speech would’ve felt much more badass if Gaius himself hadn’t played such a large part as an enabler of Uther’s shit. 

Honestly, Gaius himself is to blame too. Such much, in fact. Where is this righteous speech when it’s the others that gets killed? Did you say anything when people are wrongly accused? Did you speak up when women and children are drowned? No, you chose to be a coward, and now you’re paying for it.

When you don’t stand against an oppressor, you become their accomplice.

[Click here for a full list of my BBC Merlin commentary]

[glowyjellyfish]

I just started rewatching Battlestar Galactica. Well, when i say just started, I mean i started two nights ago and I just finished season 1, so.

Firstly, at the beginning everyone is a tiny innocent baby and a sweet summer child (yes, even after their civilization gets destroyed. Sweet summer children all.), except Starbuck who is more of a tiny magnificent chaotic asshole.

Secondly, Baltar is one of my favorites and I think he’s among the best characters I have ever seen. His character development is phenomenal; I’d say he’s a stunning example of a redemption arc, but I’m not sure it totally counts when he was never really a villain at all. Arrogant, self-serving, and dickish, yes, but never deliberately evil. I love watching him break down and get built back up again, it’s a highly entertaining and often poignant roller coaster. And of course, he’s also just a delight to watch. I wish something like this had come up on the show, but I am convinced that people in the fleet--especially on Galactica and Colonial One--are well aware that he talks to himself and frequently disassociates, and chalk it up to trauma from being on Caprica during the attack. Sometimes I like to think that he 100% has that trauma and some degree of PTSD and Head Six took advantage of that state to set herself up in his head, but I’m not sure whether to make that headcanon or if it’s just a nice theory.

Thirdly, Gaeta is my favorite and I love him to pieces. The first time I watched when it first aired waaaay back in the day, I was rooting so hard for him to be a cylon, and I’m still slightly bummed that he wasn’t. I can’t complain about what he got as a consolation prize, going out with a bang and loads of juicy character development, with the added bonus that Anders also got some great character development. (Um, I should probably explain real quick that I read somewhere back in the day that when the writers were choosing the Final Five, it was kind of a toss-up between Anders and Gaeta, and they chose Anders. I felt validated that he was at least at the top of the list, and since I also loved cylon!Anders it proved to be a pretty good second choice for me. Believe me though, I wrote so many fanfics about how Gaeta might still be a cylon somehow, most of them super bad.) His whole development arc is less of a roller coaster and more of a long slow painful train wreck, and it’s gonna hurt so much but ugh I love it. Right now, at the end of season one, he is still such a sweet summer child, like my god he still has a crush on Baltar and hasn’t been disillusioned yet! And turns out I still firmly ship it. Gaeta’s got such a crush, poor boy, and it was so sweet and destroyed my little shipper heart at the end of Six Degrees of Separation when after a whole episode of everyone turning on Baltar and telling him they never trusted him and him freaking out, Gaeta came along and exonerated Baltar and told him he always believed in him. Awwww New Caprica’s gonna kill me, I swear. 

Chief and Tigh are also up there in terms of my favorites, and there’s always gonna be something wonderful about a rewatch and all those scenes where they’re talking about people being Cylons and suspecting people of being Cylons and hey guess what you two. Guess what.

On this rewatch, I really enjoyed seeing Lee acting as the compromise between the military and politics. I vaguely recall that that’s a major part of his character going forward, basically everything that isn’t Starbuck, father issues, or Love Quadrangle Of Doom, and am curious how I’m gonna see it now. Originally, I found him good for a hero character and reasonably interesting, and I seem to recall liking such plots as him quitting the military way more than other viewers, but he’s never been one of my favorites.

...I also feel obliged to point out that in these trying times it is very hard not to 100% agree with Tom Zarek. If he was a little less murdery, man. Of course, I should also point out that unlike some other viewers--no, I don’t remember specifics, I probably read opinions on a forum 15 years ago--I felt like the season 4 mutiny was bringing up some extremely valid points that needed to be addressed (even if Zarek was mostly using them as an excuse to coast to power and Gaeta was airing his grievances in the worst possible way when what he probably actually really needed was a lot of intense therapy) so perhaps this is nothing new. 

I’m also excited and scared for the President Baltar plot coming later, but in these times I am fairly certain my feelings will be “you guys are big babies. Oh boo hoo, your legally elected president is genuinely intelligent and charismatic and just happens to be rather self-centered and self-serving and shitty at governing, oh noooo he had to be held at gunpoint to sign death warrants for dissenters… grow up.” I… can’t take most “super evil villain becomes president oh no” stories seriously anymore, literally all the ones I am aware of were better than reality.

I don’t feel like it needs to be said, but Starbuck, Roslin, and Adama? All perfect and amazing, of course. They’re not my favorites, but that’s mainly because they are popular main characters, and I tend to prefer unpopular sideline characters and characters that need defending or merit lengthy essays. Everyone loves those guys for good reason, they don’t need me supporting them.

Also I forgot how precious Dee and Billy were, and how their relationship added interesting layers and angles to loads of plotlines. Makes me bummed about Billy (though I know it wasn’t the show’s fault), and then bummed that Dee got entangled in the Love Quadrangle of Doom, and then… kinda fridged to be honest. I wonder what would have happened with the Final Five if Billy was still around, would it have been Billy there instead of Tory? Or to keep the gender ratio and a touch of diversity, would they have gone with Dee? Would that have made them more or less likely to choose Gaeta over Anders, then? My gut says less, but who knows? It sure would have been rad if Dee got that much character development unrelated to romance, though.

It’s also weird how much I still keep trying to add things to the show’s arc and mythology to make it make more sense to me, personally. Like, logically I know that the whole thing is that god as spoken of by the cylons is 100% real, the head characters are literally communicating with people on his behalf, the opera house is the CIC and all the prophecies and stuff are leading to humans and cylons living together and interbreeding on Earth to make us. But I’m constantly trying to add things like “maybe the lords of kobol were twelve or thirteen original cylons on kobol 2000 years ago, and maybe they’re the head characters, like they ascended their physical bodies or something, and maybe the physical characters who look like the head characters are like the reincarnations of them or of the original humans they were modelled on, and the whole story is very similar and playing out again which is why certain characters have visions and stuff, but there have never been human/cylon hybrids before and that’s what god wants in order to end the cycle and/or because god is love god wants them to love each other and stop killing each other please? Maybe?” Shrug, I know some fans hate how spiritual it went, and I’m not one of them. I just prefer the slightly more humanist angle of reincarnation over literally just “god did it”. 

However, I am really enjoying just taking Head Six 100% at her word and watching her manipulate the fucking shit out of Baltar to get him reliant on her and in the position she needs him to be in. It’s kind of amazing. And also, fascinating to consider Leoben in Flesh and Bone in the context of knowing what happens to Starbuck. He absolutely knows that she’s going to lead them all to Earth and die in the process. I don’t think he knows any details at all, but it’s really interesting to watch assuming that he knows her fate. And I am not sure the show ever really explained why Leoben knows this stuff. Does he have visions? His own head person? Does he just sit and listen real hard to the Hybrids and interpret their sayings? ...I guess I do find it weird that the show chose to go so hard on making him creepy as fuck to her on New Caprica, and then apparently didn’t know a lot else they wanted to do with him, but we’ll see how I feel as it goes along.

Anyway, I think I’ve exhausted my most coherent array of thoughts. 

[kob131]

https://rwdestuffs.tumblr.com/post/189368130439/if-bb-becomes-canon-then-i-think-that-the-anti-bb

If bb becomes canon, then I think that the anti-bb shippers should simply shut the fuck up.

And this has anything to do with you..because?

Need I remind people that these posts exist/existed at a point in time?

Need I remind you that you’ve done EVERYTHINg you list, if not WORSE shit, and try claiming the moral high ground.

Or are we supposed to just say that “All bb shippers are evil, and anyone who doesn’t ship it is good”?

Hold on...

“Or are we supposed to just say that “All Jaune fansare evil, and anyone who hates him it is good”? “

According to you, yes.

Yes, there are toxic bb shippers, and yes, there are a lot of them. That’s inevitable since this is the most popular ship in the fndm. But sure. Go ahead and pretend that anyone who says something negative about a different Blake or Yang ship is automatically a “bb” shipper.

And yet when other shippers or even certain races or genders is involved, it’s totally because they’re all evil right?

Then ignore how bb shippers were compared to nazis, and how a bs shipper wished for Arryn to be fired because she wanted to make sure that the writers weren’t baiting.

How about remembering when you supported someone burnig RT to the ground over a meme, constantly harass the staff and have made indirect death threats at Miles?

Go ahead and do that.

I’m fucking sick and tired of people shitting on a ship because it’s popular.

Or characters *cough* Jaune *cough*

Boo-Hoo. Your ship isn’t popular. I have a fucking crack ship that isn’t happening anytime soon, and do you see me being an ass about it?

If we replace ‘ship’ with ‘character’ then yes

bb shippers get compared to nazis, but then this got dropped after a week or so. But remind me again: How long did the “bb shippers harassed Arryn over the bmblb incident” thing last? About a year or so last I checked.

Nice try DUdeblade, I still see people botching about this constantly.

This fndm is full of heternormativity and it shows. They don’t actually care about “stopping the toxic shippers” they just want to use the toxic parts as an excuse to harass the ship group as a whole.

Says the misandrist.

My proof?- The fact that bb shippers have to constantly tread on thin ice while other shippers can have that blacksunwillbecanon guy in the second screenshot, monanon, ash-“I compared bb shippers to literal nazis“ of-the-eclipse and so many other toxic shippers, but they never get generalized as toxic at all. Just because they aren’t as popular.

Cool, now replace ‘bb shippers’ with ‘Miles Luna’ and try saying it without ripping your own throat out.

It’s disgusting. It’s a double standard. It’s infuriating.

Says the king of double standards.

So yeah. anti-bb shippers can kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP! You guys don’t get to complain about toxicity when your own toxicity is never held over your heads.

And you don’t get to do anything except stand there and ask for seconds and thirds and fourths and fifths when you outright JUSTIFY WORSE SHIT.

Though, I guess bb shippers should start, considering how many of you got to get away with toxic parts in your section of the fndm with little-to-no scrutiny, I think it’s about time y’all finally realize how toxic you are. bb shippers are able to call out their toxic shippers, and spread word about their toxicity so that people can know to avoid them. Meanwhile, the other side has “AsH aPoLoGiZeD, sO tHaT mAkEs It OkAy!” “ThAt OnE sHiPpEr SaId ‘SoRrY’ fOr LeTtInG tHaT sLuR gO tHrOuGh! DrOp ThE aCcUsAtIoNs!” and other bullshit. They get to get away with toxicity because they’ve convinced everyone that “It’s really the bb shippers that are toxic.” and stuff. Meanwhile, other shippers can act as toxic as they want, and they get to be treated as isolated incidents.

But one bb shipper slips up, and suddenly, it’s the whole group that’s to blame.

And yet when any other creator doesn’t toe the line, you’ll defend them to the death while trying to harass and bullying the CRWBY.

And gee, calling out toxic behavior because that group thinks they can do no wrong...hm, sounds an awful lot like what I do huh?

“ What goes around comes around. And most of you decided to throw rocks at a beehive just so that you could then say that “bb shippers are all toxic and don’t respect others’ opinions!” “

Oh don’t you know Dudeblade? They’re just critics. They don’t hate the show-I mean ship, they just want to see it grow and evolve properly. They’re even nice enough to keep their shit out of your tags. If you can’t handle it then maybe you’re just a fanboy...

Well, according to you that’s whats happening.

‘ Get stung. You deserve it.”

Swallow your own shit. You preached it. You advocated for it. You most certainly DESERVE IT.

[idksupernatural]

Long Way Home: Twilight Zone (Part 1)

a/n: Here's the first chapter!! I'm soooo glad that we were able to post this. I'm really exited to see where this series goes and how it takes off. I have so many ideas for this series. So make sure to stay tuned!!

Summary Series: The Winchesters, Dean, Alex, and Sam, live in an abusive household since they were put into foster care. Eric and Rachael have been their adopted parents since they were put into foster care. Since senior year has come and Dean and Alex are turning 18, Eric and Rachael have been putting the siblings in bad situations ever since summer break and the year prior. What will happen one night everything turns upside down in a blink of an eye? What will happen if Dean is handed his siblings life?

Chapter One Summary: When Dean has to confess a secret he has to Alex, it turns out fairly well. 

Word Count: 2,454 words

Series Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only! under aged smut. Fluff, angst, swearing, alcohol intoxication, underage drug use, underage drinking. Heartbreak, crying, flashbacks, nightmares, trauma. Description of child abuse, domestic violence, self-harming, and rape. Stress, mental breakdowns, anxiety attacks, depression, suicide attempts. Description of blood and injuries, hospital scenes, near death experiences, more warnings. I can go on forever. 

Chapter Warnings: Fluffy Dean, swearing, angst, drunk!Dean, underage drinking, nightmare, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of self-harming(slightly), stressing over Dean being drunk. Slight mention of homophobia. Let me know if I’m missing any more warnings for this chapter. 

Characters in Chapter: Dean, Alex, and Michael. Mentions of Cas, Sam, Charlie Bradbury, Rachael, and Eric. 

This fic goes out to @katehuntington and her 1k celebration, congrats!!! I used ‘Twilight Zone’ by Golden Earring for this fic. Hope you like it. :)

----

'Ask anyone in this school about being a freak and they'll point to me, no questions asked. They always wonder why I'm this way, having a twin brother who rules the school, catching all the ladies, and a nerd of a brother who's too good to be here, who I say is way smarter than me, even though I'm at the top of my classes. But they don't know, and don't want to know, why I am who I am. When it comes to sex and partying, they're all over me and still can't figure out why...'

I type down the words on my computer, trying to let go of my problems. Cas said it would help me lift some pressure off my chest because, apparently, he does it every night to help him calm down. I call bull, but he insists on it. Without even noticing, Dean comes up to the top bunk and closes the computer on me. I barely move my hands out of the way before it slams shut.

"Hey," I screeched, putting my computer under my pillow.

"Bed time, loser," he said, laying down next to me.

I was trying to get comfortable on the bed, noticing Dean doing the same. This only meant one thing, and I wasn't in the mood.

"I was wondering if I can sleep with you and maybe. . .we can talk?" he asked, whispering so they couldn't hear us. I pulled a face at him telling him what I was thinking so he got the hint.

"We-we don't need to talk, I-I actually have to. Can you just, maybe, listen?" He stuttered over his words. Something must be up because he always stutters when something is bothering him. I changed my expression quickly, slightly smiling to make him comfortable.

We settled under the blankets, the room already dark from when Dean closed the door. I could hear Sammy's light snores from the bottom bunk, telling me he was out like a light.

Dean was hesitant to talk to me. His face was open like a book and I could easily read it in the sliver of light that was slipping through the window.

"You know you can talk to me, right? I'm always here for you and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just don't know how to say it," he said, cutting me off, clearly thinking of what he wanted to say.

"Okay, so," he began. I pulled his hands into mine, squeezing them, letting him know that I was here and that it was safe. "I'm kinda dating Cas. Actually, we've been dating since the summer, and. . .and I couldn't keep hiding this from you. If you're not okay with it, then tell me straight up, I'll be fine bu-"

"Dean, why wouldn't I be okay with it? You always seemed happy with him since we were small. You guys always give each other that look when you see each other, I'm surprised you didn't start dating sooner! I'm happy that you're together. You have someone who can love you," I said. Deep down, I was doing a little happy dance because Dean was so carefree whenever he's with Cas and I'm always happy to see him happy. They've been giving each other googoo eyes since the fifth grade and it's been painful just watching their endless pining.

"Wait, so you're not mad?" I nodded rapidly. "You're completely okay with this?"

"Yes, I am Dean! Quit worrying," I said, trying to reassure him. "But," I began, and his happy expression dropped, "you can't let Eric and Rachael know about this. They will murder you, and that's not going to happen on my watch." I pulled him into a side hug.

"Yeah, I know that much," he sassed back, and I could feel him roll his eyes. He squeezed me tightly.

We layed in each other's arms, and just like every time this has happened before, we found it comfortable. I breathe in his scent, forever familiar in my head. Whiskey (he drinks it a lot, but I don't say anything), oil that hasn't quite come off of him after his shower, and this one smell that I couldn't quite describe, but it was just the smell of Dean and that's all I needed to know.

I could feel sleep overtaking me, the darkness consuming me. Before I let the darkness engulf me fully, I feel Dean lay a lingering kiss on the top of my head.

"I just hope you'll be happy too," he whispers into the air.

Finally, I let the darkness consume me.

I pounded on the door for what seemed to be the hundredth time, growing more annoyed with Dean.

"I've been out here for the past five minutes," I shouted, "hurry and wrap it up!" I pounded my first harder on the door, surprised they have not started to hurt.

I can hear mumbling on the other side of the door, and seconds later he comes out, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Dude, you reek of sex and that isn't the way we want to walk into the house. You know that place is a madhouse! It's already two a.m. and we were supposed to be home at ten forty-five. I'm really glad Sammy asked to sleep over at a friend's house tonight," I scoffed furiously, grabbing at his arm. One look into his eyes and I knew we were fucked. He was drunk. Of course he's drunk! He gave me that smirk, that cocky and full-of-shit smirk, and oh my GOSH I just wanted to punch it right off his face.

"Y'know, y'look. . . y'look funny when yer mad." His voice was higher than it was supposed to be, his words slurring together. He tried to go in for a hug, giggling intensely.

"No, no, no. No hugs Dean! You look like you've been to every sex club in existence, you smell like a bar, and-are you even listing to a word I'm saying?!" I gripped his arm harder, trying to pull him with me to no avail.

"Nope." He popped the p and gave me a goofy smile. God, he looks so happy right now, I thought. I wish I could make him look this happy everyday.

"Okay," I patted him on his shoulder, sighing and loosening my grip on his arm, "okay."

We started making our way downstairs. I grabbed our coats and my purse that were in the hallway closet before I headed back to Dean, who was sitting on the couch, his eyes drooping from drowsiness trying to take over his body.

"Come on buddy, time to get up." I lightly shake him awake. He squinted his eyes at me.

"Uuugghh I don't wanna gooo!" Dean whined. I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes.

"Well boo-hoo your ass. I was down here watching everyone, and by that I mean I was watching everyone making out with each other, sitting here waiting for you." I pulled on his arm, but he wouldn't budge. Then, I smirked at an idea that popped in my head. "If you don't get your lazy ass up, we won't drive in Baby."

Dean's eyes grew wide, and he stood up immediately, swaying. I steadied him, giving him his coat. He stared at it and giggled, and I rolled my eyes and took his hand, leading him to the door.

I open the door, the air stinging my face as I practically dragged Dean behind me, a trail of giggles and nonsense leaving his mouth. I walk to the top of the steps leading down to the sidewalk, stopping at the sight I see.

The yellow light from the streetlamps illuminates the scene of my friend, Charlie Bradbury, kissing some random girl. I stumble, taking a few steps back, and I feel Dean bump into me.

"Shwoops!" Dean exclaimed loudly, startling Charlie and her. . ."friend."

Charlie stares at me for what feels like forever. I wait for her to say something, anything, but she says nothing. I clear my throat and make it down the steps with Dean clumsily following behind me, a weird feeling in my stomach. I mean, it's not like I should care, It's not like she's my girlfriend. We're only friends! And it seems like she was enjoying her make out sesh with whoever that was. . .

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, dragging Dean behind me. He yanks his hand free from my grip and walks in front of me to reach the car, kindly opening the door to the passenger's seat for me.

"M'lady," he says, drawing out the y, bowing down to me, stumbling over his feet. I rolled my eyes, thinking to myself, Why, God, why do I have to be related to this dumbass?

Dean stood upright, his hand fumbling in his pocket to get his keys. Once he got them, he attempted to swirl them around his finger, but ended up with the keys on the sidewalk. He giggled and said, "I'mma drive." I sighed, annoyed, and picked the keys up from the sidewalk. I pushed Dean into the passenger seat, receiving a giggle in reply. "Yer, thehe, really fhu. . .fhunny, d'you know that?"

"Yes, Dean, I know that we established this already. Now c'mon, we need to get out of here," I said, patting his shoulder and reaching out to close the door.

"Okie dokie," he said, laughing quietly as I closed the door.

"This is why Sammy likes me better," I muttered under my breath, heading to the driver's side of the car and getting in.

"You ready? Because I am," I stated to Dean, closing the door behind me and turning the ignition on. When I heard the rumble of Baby's engine roar, I knew we were set.

----

We stopped by an abandoned parking lot for the night, not wanting to go "home." I headed to the back seat and got comfortable, using my jacket as a pillow.

"Dean?" I asked, receiving a hum in response. "How sober are you?"

"Mostly not drunk, why?" he asked, seriousness in his voice.

"Just askin'," I replied back, keeping it short. A feeling I knew too well settled over the car. Silence. It felt like we were wrapped up in silence, and I felt it crushing me. The itch is back on my arms and I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to think about what happened earlier today. The reason why I agreed to go to the party in the first place, to numb the feeling. But, of course I couldn't because I needed to take care of my ass of a brother here. I reached under the passenger's seat and grabbed my new best friend, tequila. I popped the cap off and took a swig, the familiar liquid burning throughout my throat and chest.

After a few moments of crushing silence and me going to town with my tequila best friend, I heard gun shots in the distance. Dean and I startled, looking at each other. We looked out the window to the lot so we could figure out where the sound came from. Dean sprang up from his seat and headed out of the car.

"Dean get back in the car, you don't know who could be out there!" I whispered yelled, afraid of getting caught. I reached out, grabbing his elbow and spinning him around. "You're still wasted, so get your ass back in the car!"

"What if somebody's hurt, Alex?" he whispers yelled back at me. "I'm technically the older one in this situation, so you should just let me go!"

"Letting you go my ass! If you're gonna fight me on this, I'm at least gonna go with you and that is period," I replied fiercely. He huffed, turning away, looking for the potential threat.

"Fine, come on."

"Ugh, fine."

So with that, we walked through the abandoned lot, using our flashlights from our phones. The only things I could hear were our quiet footsteps and Dean's heavy breathing. My heart started thumping so fast and hard that it felt like it would burst out of my chest, and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears with every step I took. Dean stopped abruptly, causing me to bump into him.

"What the hell, du-"

"Shut up, look!"

There it was; the gun. There was blood splattered all over the chamber and handle.

"Give me your bandana," I said quickly.

"Why?!" Dean asked, exasperated, but still reaching in his pocket to get the bandana out.

"Just give me the damn thing," I said, yanking it out of his hand, lay the piece of cloth on top of the gun, and gently pick it up. The gun still warm under my touch, examining it, then putting it back down as gently as I picked it up. "The chamber's still hot but there weren't any dents or scratches on it. So the attacker," my breath hitched, "the attacker-"

"He must have left it there," a familiar voice said, startling us both. "Hands where I can see 'em, darling." I mentally cringed at the name, a shiver going down my spine. I turned around and saw the last person I ever wanted to see, slowly inching closer to Dean.

"What are you doing here? Last time I checked, you moved out of Lawrence," Dean spat, anger growing inside of him.

"Well, you ain't in Lawrence anymore. You're in my turf now, Winchesters." He reached for the gun, pointing it at us. All the sirens in my head were going off, telling me to get as far away as I could with Dean, but we really couldn't do that at the moment because of the gun being pointed at us. And, by the weight of when I picked it up, it was fully loaded.

"Put the goddamn gun down Michael, we all know you won't shoot us," Dean spat, venom leaking from his words, ready to fight him at any second.

"Maybe, maybe not. But one thing I know for certain is that I despise the Winchester's guts." His finger lingered over the trigger.

"Just put the gun down, Michael," I said from my spot next to Dean.

"You guys put me through hell this past year. So, why don't you give me a perfectly good reason to not shoot both of you right now?" He was met with silence, Dean and I not uttering a word. "That's what I thought."

I was starting to realize at this moment that eternal fate has turned its back on us. He pulled the trigger, and the last thing I heard was BANG!

----

a/n #2: hiya! thank you to all of those reading this, i appreciate it a lot. i love editing this story and encouraging my friend, so i hope you love it as well! - Kati Bee

a/n #3: I want a special thanks to my sweet friend, kati bee. I wouldn't know where this chapter would have gone without her. I know many writers say this but feedback and likes are kindly appreciated. It's letting us know that you guys are enjoying the story and wanting us to continue the story, as well. 

a/n #4: forgot to mention that Dean and Alex are twins,17 going to 18, and Sam is 13 going to 14. 

[takaraphoenix]

You've said that female characters mostly reduced to the love interests, or that all they're thinking are their bf or love interests. But imo, this case access to the male characters as well. Percy doesn't think about Grover for example, I've always expected it to be there in his mind because of he's his bff. Instead, Grover just is... not that much of important anymore I guess? He doesn't think or concern that much about the demigods in CHB, whether they're okay or not. 1/9

They meet with the f-ing Hercules and Percy never once gets upset or brings the Zoe’s name in the ship. Instead, we see Percy’s making the dam joke in the MoA and saying it’s an inside joke. Which shows that Zoe is still in his mind. But dude, RR, please. If you’re gonna make Percy to come across with Hercules, and never once make him salty or angry with trying to acting on it while the other characters in the ship saying ‘’Percy dont1!!’ Then I’m sorry but what’s the meaning of those cases? 2/9            

7 team dynamic and friendship are basically dead. Riordan puts 7 supposedly all different characters in a ship and all dynamic that exists is mostly the love triangles. I don’t know if you talked about this issue but I’d like to see you point on this. Bc it was an important part in the series and Rick’s not playing with the potential actually is disappointing. He just mostly focuses on fricking romance instead and it’s annoying. 3/9            

Similar cases also existed in first series too. For example worst offender was whole Calypso case. I first thought that it wasn’t Percy’s fault that Gods didn’t keep their promises. But it was actually his fault, and also Annabeth and the others were at fault as well because of they legit thought Gods would keep their promises. I mean, dude. They even broke their biggest oaths and you all know it, and now you tell me that you never once checked out the gods’s jobs? 4/9            

In order to see if they kept their promises or not? Honestly it’s so… dumb? There must be a character development on this, basing on this situation, it does suck too. Percy should’ve learned that gods don’t keep their promises. And he should’ve checked it out himself after the war ends. Let’s say Percy was dumb, but Annabeth? She is a child of the Athena, who supposedly is smart, but never comes up with the idea of checking things out instead of just trusting gods to do their jobs. 5/9            

Or any other character, no one points the issue out. I’m not sure if this case was intentional or not, or RR himself just forgot about this but man, it comes across as such a bad writing. Also another biggest offender was May goddamn Castellan. So RR, you’re saying to me that no one, no Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, didn’t go to her house in order to see if she’s okay or not after war and events?In order to help her case, even if she’s still crazy or is cured? Or, was underw-kiss more important? 6/9            

After learning about her case, none of them didn’t ever wonder? What the actuality? Bob is another big offender. Not because of Percy left him; he didn’t. Bc you see, Bob was never his friends unlike Calypso. He was just a Titan, there was no actual friendship or anything. And it’s kinda dumb that Rick tries to portray Percy as a terrible friend in this case rather than pointing out other issues in his writing. 7/9            

But then in the Tartarus, they built a relationship, this time it’s actual. But when they go to the Doors, Percy never once actually try to save Bob or Damasen and it’s just…. I’d expected Percy to pull a thing in the end and sending them to the doors with risking his own life bc it’s Percy’s supposed characteristic element; he would do anything for his friends. But it just… doesn’t exist? Why it was never a big characteristic issue right there when you had to chance to write it? 8/9            

Also, at the end of the boO, Percy just generally is okay with sending his friends to fight with Gaia. They have a talk with Frank 1 minute, and after that, it’s all okay. No big issue. I guess it was so much challenging to pull that, RR. I believe that there are so much other problematic events but those came to mind at this time. Sorry if this was so much long and salty rant. *looks at the rant and cries in salt* 9/9            

Uhm, so, I love getting asks, I really do. But at a certain length, I think you should consider maybe… writing your own post and just tagging me in it if you want me to see it, because daaamn this is very… very… long. xD”

But yeah no, the boys are just as bad as the girls, that was never up for discussion. The question was just very explicitely about female characters, so I’m definitely not gonna drag guys into that. *chuckles*

Everything in Heroes of Olympus is about the romance. I mean seriously absolutely everything because even the villains shipped it - Gaia wanting specifically the blood of Annabeth and Percy because they totally are her OTP, Arachne having a tapestry of the underwater kiss how the ever-loving did she even know that happened how is that not the creepiest, most inappropriate and weird thing to happen in that entire gods damned series. They shoulda named that ship Ark II not Argo II, because it’s all about pairing up. It’s just that, in that ask, we were specifically talking about the bad writing of the female characters! ;)

Honestly. The Grover thing. I think that’s more on Riordan not thinking about Grover than on Percy. Like. I feel as though Riordan temporarily forgot Grover exists because he was so busy shipping. Because Coach Hedge should not have been on that ship. The satyr to go with them should have been Grover. Grover and Percy should have gotten a proper reunion. Instead, one throw-away dream-spy sequence where we got to see him and Rachel. So cheap.

The lack of friendship dynamics was most disappointing, yeah. Everything was about love. Even the one damn quest where all the girls could have bonded - lol nope it’s not a quest it’s actually a tea party with Aphrodite to talk about your love life!!! Because girls!!! Doing girl stuff!!! Seriously, old straight man writing teenage girls? Cringe.

Okay no I find it really asking too much that Percy shoulda pushed the gods about Calypso. Bear in mind the time. The war ended on August 18th. Percy gets abducted on December 15th. That’s four months. Four months of PTSD, of rebuilding the camp, of having a lot of other shit on his mind. If like… an actual big amount of time had passed and Percy had never checked? Okay. Yeah. That’s on him. But within four months? And… it’s not just Percy who had a lot of shit on his mind, let’s be honest, so did the gods. Tartarus was broken into, Olympus was demolished, very shortly thereafter they started having that identity crisis and souls started escaping from Hades. Four months pass in no time at all, especially when you do have a lot on your to-do list.

Same goes for May. Seriously. It’s only been a total of four months. I… genuinely would not have half a mind to care about a total stranger like May Castellan in the middle of my whole entire world kinda coming apart in a war and me having to deal with my own personal aftermath of that?? I mean, those are literal children who just saw their friends and family murdered in a war and who fought in that war themselves. I really, really do think that they had enough on their mind without caring to check in and see if this total stranger had been taken care of… And Percy, Thalia and Annabeth, were like the only ones with any kind of investment or even knowledge there, I mean it’s not like May was public knowledge and everybody cared. And who knows, maybe Thalia did go there off screen, check on her with the Hunt.

I’m generally not okay with Riordan’s attempt at portraying Percy as a bad friend in HoO. It’s wildly OoC. He established Percy’s fatal flaw to be that he would let the world burn for his friends, but suddenly he can’t be bothered with said friends? Both, Calypso and Bob, as used by Riordan, then the lack of Grover, the lack of… of any big reunion aside from Annabeth. He took this character that he specifically created as a very loving and devoted friend and suddenly made him not really care and also not really making friends. Yeah, Frank and Hazel. But… Percy Jackson? The Percy Jackson from the first series? He’d have been friends with everyone on the ship in five hours flat.

I STILL DON’T GET THE BOB AND DAMASEN PART. FUCK YEAH. Seriously, it’s been years and this still bugs me. That Percy and Annabeth were just like “Well. The doors closed. They dead now. Such a shame”. What the actual fuck was that. Try to save them! You could have still saved them!!! That was, too, so very OoC. Like Percy Jackson would just turn his back and let two of his comrades die.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, Ep. 6 (Cont.)

Hibiki, having seen a horror upon horrors, immediately asks Tsubasa if she’s okay. Tsubasa points out she’s a hospital patient, why would you ask this question, you insensitive prick. Hibiki points to the following scene:

Now, you may be asking yourself. “How does a formerly comatose person who is now bedridden on an IV drip manage to do this much damage?” Simply put, Tsubasa has a very chaotic aura. She doesn’t even have to take stuff out of her room; the places she goes to just naturally wind up like this. It’s a metaphor for how much of an absolute mess this person is simply by existing.

“l-look i just- its hard to organize things and- im more of a visual person and-”

“BITCH YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?”

Hibiki unwittingly gets her revenge on Tsubasa. She doesn’t realize it, but her lecturing Tsubasa on what an absolute mess every facet of her life is could possibly be heralded as her lowest point in the entire series.

No, wait. Thinking about it now, this is her second lowest. We won’t see her lowest until GX comes along.

“hibiki, every single bone in my body is broken, you dont have to break my pride too”

Hibiki, being an absolute darling, actually picks up Tsubasa’s mess. This is more than she can say about her own messes.

“haha, miku usually does this for me! wait- wait a minute.”

“i dont get it. i tried to kill you. i tormented and ignored you. i refused to help you for months. i failed to train you on any facet of combat as your senior. i nearly let you get kidnapped and, failing that, nearly killed myself while making you watch, which ALSO didnt help you not get kidnapped aside from scaring the shit out of that weird lady. why are you... helping me?”

“because either we’re going to be very good friends or im going to toss you out the window personally!”

“oh god, that aggression screams kanade. i cant not like her.”

Absolutely annihilated. Just kick her while she’s down in her Taco Bell spiral of humiliation and self-discovery, Hibiki.

“it’s okay, tsubasa! you may be a terminal dumbass, but im sure if we all work together, we can share our braincells and become collectively smarter, for each other!”

“interesting theory. how many ya got?”

“ZERO!”

They trade the kind of banter two people with 0 brain cells would have and then Tsubasa points out Hibiki is doing a great job in her place.

“hey hey HEY HOLD THE PHONE IVE LEARNED MY LESSON IM NOT TRYING TO REPLACE YOU OKAY IM NOT YOU, IM JUST HIBIKI, DOING HER JOB, ALRIGHT”

Meanwhile, in the library, Miku is looking at books, as she does what she says she’s gonna do, unlike a certain other person cavorting with cute idols.

“The Gay Way: How to Get Your Same Sex Relationship Back On Track, by Dr. Lesbe Honest. wow, this one is right up my alley.”

Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you. I literally forgot they show you the title in this. Imagine my face when I made up that title on the spot only to be hit with this little number. Holy shit, Symphogear. There’s this thing called subtlety. I’m begging you. We get it.

OH, AND IT GETS BETTER, BECAUSE

THE AUTHOR OF THE BOOK IS THE WRITER OF THE SHOW

IT’S LITERALLY GOT HIS NAME ON IT

THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT OF WRITING A STORY AND THEN INSERTING A BOOK CALLED “LEARN THE PLOT” WRITTEN BY YOU, IN UNIVERSE

KANEKO STOP THIS BALONEY, PLEASE

AND LIKE FUCKING CLOCKWORK SHE JUST- SHE TURNS HER HEAD AWAY FROM THE BOOK TITLED “THIS IS THE PLOT MOTIF” BY “AUTHOR” AND THEN FUCKING

SHE CONVENIENTLY LOOKS OVER TO THE DISTANCE

AND SHE SEES HIBIKI WITH THE HOT IDOL MIKU WAS INTO, THAT THEY WERE BOTH A FAN ON, AND SHE’S JUST CHILLING THERE AND MIKU WAS TOLD HIBIKI’S ON SERIOUS BUSINESS

AND THE HOSPITAL QUARTERS ARE SOMEHOW CONVENIENTLY CONNECTED TO THE FUCKING LIBRARY ON FULL DISPLAY BECAUSE GOD KNOWS EVERYONE IN A LIBRARY HAS TO WATCH SICK PEOPLE DIE IN REAL TIME

AND NOW MIKU IS THINKING “OH MY FUCKING GOD IM BEING CHEATED ON” AND HER FEELINGS ARE HURT FOR THIS TOTALLY CONTRIVED FUCKING COINCIDENCE

AND SHE’S ALL “BOO HOO HOO I’VE BEEN NTR’D! THIS WAS A CUCKING PLOT THIS WHOLE TIME! WOE IS ME!” FUCK YOU. THIS IS THE WORST. THIS IS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE WHY WOULD YOU- WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED TO SET THIS UP? THERE’S SO MANY BETTER WAYS TO DO THIS!

AND SHE’S JUST STARING BACK AT THE BOOK WRITTEN BY THE SAME ASSHOLE WHO WROTE THIS ENTIRE DAMN SCENARIO IN THE FIRST PLACE, AN EVIL GOD MOCKING HIS SUBJECTS IN THE FACE OF SCRUTINY FOR DRAMA WITH THE MOST CLICHE LOVE NOTES IN A GODDAMNED SOAP OPERA

AND HIBIKI IS NONE

THE

FUCKING

WISER

SYMPHOGEAR SURE IS GREAT, HUH? I SURE DO LOVE SYMPHOGEAR WITH ALLLLLL MY HEART. WHAT A WELL WRITTEN MASTERPIECE! FUCKING BELONGS IN THE FUCKING MOMA!!!!!

Okay. Okay. Let’s get that out of our system. The worst is over. This is the, uh, crescendo of the bad side plot as it inevitably sets itself on the road to resolution. I’m not going to have an aneurysm. My brain is not going to split itself in half. We’re good. I swear, we’re good.

Tsubasa, meanwhile, wants to understand why Hibiki fights, wrestling with the Da Vinci code that is her own emotions. She points out the fight against the Noise isn’t a game, and it ain’t no comic book bullshit either. It’s real, it’s out there, and it’s not pretty yet easily marketable as cute mascots. And what does our protagonist say? No making it up, she literally says:

“i dunno”

Not a damn brain cell in her body, but props for keeping it real. I’d likely say the same thing.

This is the face of someone currently sucking air through their teeth at the raw frustration that someone would be dumb enough to risk their life for the sake of only helping others.

“listen. im gonna keep it real here. i suck at literally everything. math. social studies. writing. helping people is all i have, because its not a competition. you just... you do it. you dont get better at helping people, you just help. like, thats it. i dunno what else to tell you.”

Then Hibiki points out that she feels it all started with Kanade saving her, and the speech implies its a ‘pay it forward’ sort of affair. She was saved, and so she should save others. Unfortunately, it comes off more as a guilt complex. “I lived, and I feel bad about that, so I gotta save everyone else” kind of stuff.

“its my coping mechanism for my countless traumas!”

“i get it now. you’re just as much of a mess as i am. you just dont show it as much. that kinda thinking’s gonna get you killed.”

Tsubasa then correctly points out that it is a kind of survivor’s guilt, where she wants to be released from the pain of old wounds, completely unaware of the irony of her statement.

“yeah. i get ya. we’re both wrecks. but... we can be wrecks working together.”

This would be the part where she says I’M SORRY but apparently we just don’t fucking do apologies in Symphogear, huh? Too good for ‘em, eh?! God.

Then they go outside and talk more about stuff and Durandal. The summation:

“do you have the capacity to live a life forever kicking ass?”

“yeah”

Hibiki, coming to terms with how she wants to deal with shit, manages to sharpen (haw) her resolve as to who she is and how she uses her abilities.

Meanwhile...

“i cant believe hibiki is having an affair with an attractive idol popstar. especially my favorite one from their old band. not only is she cheating on me, but she’s cheating on me from one of the five people on my lists id immediately get with if i had the chance. it feels like a double betrayal. a real life one, and a fantasy one... why do i find this weirdly hot...?”

“HEY NEWCOMER WELCOME TO THE CUCK AND BUCK WHERE WE SELL FRESHLY FRIED CUCKS FOR ONE BUCK, REAL EASY, REAL CHEAP, GOOD OL’ FASHIONED JAPANESE SOULFOOD”

“ive come to take my throne. i’ll take the ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest” and have the three eggs over easy with the ‘easy sleazy pancakes’”

“make it an extra lonely helping. this is gonna be a long afternoon.”

“ahhh. a freshly cucked newcomer coming to the cuck and buck to duck amongst their bad luck run amok, huh?”

“listen dont sass me about my busy girlfriend with your dr. seuss antics just gimmie the food and lets get this over with”

“no problem! sorry, they just come easy. it’s hard to buck at the cuck and buck when rhymes you huck make you wanna fu-”

“FOOD. NOW.”

Miku then ponders about how her feelings may have spiraled from a process of over thinking, or possibly hunger. Maybe both. Maybe Hibiki isn’t cheating on her. Maybe the reasons are more complicated than she knows. She briefly contemplates communication; a futile gesture when it is Hibiki safeguarding a secret she is forced to keep for incredibly stupid reasons.

“thanks for the food, miss. it really helped sort my feelings out.”

“no probs, kid. here at the cuck and buck, the only thing we cuck here is... our hearts.”

Meanwhile, Hibiki is still hanging with Tsubasa. Hey, if you’re gonna hang out with a critically acclaimed popstar, might as well squeeze every minute out of it, right?

“so... taco bell, huh? im surprised you actually like taco bell now. maybe you just like fast food styled psuedo-mexican restraunts? have you tried chipotle?”

“i... maybe you’re right, actually. i’ve grown to love taco bell, but... maybe i should expand my horizons. kanade did say... singing makes you hungry. maybe thats what she meant. i should take to new life experiences...”

“yeah! i can take you to all the good fast food places i know!”

“dont you have a girlfriend?”

“she can join us! she’s a big fan of you after all!”

“hey- hey wait! m- more friends? more... more friends... more friends.....”

“more friends...”

Meanwhile, a crisis develops.

Chris, having heard the f-word (friendship), is heading immediately to do the exact opposite of this.

She’s taken some pointers from Tsubasa, t-posing to assert dominance.

“how the fuck is she even flying”

“i cant wait to tell hibiki how much i love and appreciate her despite the weird NTR aura surrounding this whole situation”

“yeah, that’s right! i’m meeting the Gremlin in the park for an asskicking, don’t worry!”

“oh, speak of the devil! hibiki! i love and appreciate you despite the weird ntr auras!”

“miku- wait. oh no. i saw this happen in sam reimi’s spiderman 3. im fucked.”

“YOU GUESSED CORRECTLY, PIDGEON BANGS”

I know I’ve joked about homewrecking, but this is ridiculous.

Chris realizes there’s someone else around she may have potentially hurt. This is surprising, given murder is not something she has shyed away from, but she’s slowly climbing that ladder of morality, so cut her some slack for taking it one rung at a time.

“im losing my girl. losing my grip. now im about to lose my life. this NTR business truly is the worst.”

Chris has accidentally employed the Dio Brando style of disposing of people, which consists of throwing a vehicle and smashing them until dead.

“you’ve taken one step too close to my heartstrings, Gremlin, and for that you’re about to understand the full definition of an ass kicking.”

Hibiki fucking punches the car. Everything is forgiven in this episode for now.

“i... hibiki... are you... a street fighter character? holy shit. oh my god. hibiki oh my god you’re a street fighter character. thats been the true problem here. you’re a street fighter character now. oh my god. cheating? how could i have thought cheating was involved? you were literally just becoming a straight up superhero! oh my god. the abs! the washboard abs! the signs were all around me! the only thing you went to do behind my back was kick ass!”

“i’m sorry. i need to go kick ass now.”

The good news is all that tension just got evaporated. Miku sorta gets the truth now: her girlfriend hasn’t been cheating on her, she’s just been trying to save the local tri-county area from the grips of inter-dimensional alien eldritch entities controlled by a Gremlin and her Mistress. It’s a lot to take in, though.

These two are about to fight head to head. Last time, Hibiki was but the pupil. Now, she is the Master.

“can’t touch me, goldie locks. lemme do you a favor and CRACK THAT WHIP!”

“oh my god hibiki’s gonna fight that weird looking person”

“naruto running deeper into the woods isn’t gonna stop me from beating your ass senseless, fists for brains”

“thats because i wanna talk, asshole”

“wait. wait, what? you... you want to talk? to me?”

Hibiki proceeds to aggressively describe herself to her. Name, identity, blood type, age, the works. This is because she’s trying to befriend her, because Hibiki feels fighting people is bad, and that talking is more useful than fighting. This is a recipe for suicide, normally, but in this instance...

“what in the goddamn hell... i... um... nice.. to meet you...?”

Hibiki deploys a counter-T-Pose to show kinship, feeling that they don’t have to fight like this since they’re not Noise.

“talk may be cheap but it’ll make kicking your ass all the more easier, nerd”

Chris learns this, in fact, does not make the ass kicking all the more easier. Hibiki’s fresh new moves manage to dodge whip after whip of Chris’s attacks, and it’s really starting to annoy her a lot.

“pain in the ass. so you learned how to fight, huh? fine. you’ll tire out eventually.”

“let’s just talk, seriously! or maybe we can bond over board games-”

“i FUCKING hate board games. the fuck are you, a grandma? just fight already! people cant understand each other anyway!”

“JUST DIE ALREADY!”

“i was told to kidnap you. but im exerting a loophole today; no one told me to do it alive”

“the only kidnapping going down is me, sleeping in on a thursday afternoon forgetting class exists, you neon porcupine. so come at me. can’t kick me ass if you dont come any closer, right?”

“WITH PLEASURE!”

“ive watched the entirety of dragonball z, i know exactly how this fight’s gonna go down”

“finally. looks like i got y- hey, wait, what?”

“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY JANKING MY LEG? THIS BITCH IS LITERALLY GOKU? PULLING KAMEHAMEHAS AND SHIT? WHY? god. its me. yukine chris. why do you hate me. why do you drag me through all this shit only to be hit in the head with some real anime baloney. why. please. have some mercy.”

“i dont know what a goku is but sure, yeah, why not”

“im going to kill her. oh my god. she doesnt even know who goku is.”

“get that tentacle shit away from me. im not fucking around anymore. we’re going to have a heart to heart whether you like it or not!”

“oh shit she found my weakness. really close melee combat.”

“MADE A FRIENDSHIP GIFT FOR YA. IT’S A FRESHLY MADE KNUCKLE SANDWICH, STRAIGHT FROM THE DELI”

“OH GOD, PLEASE, NOT MY FACE”

“REQUEST ACCEPTED, PAL”

Hibiki punched her so hard that she physically destroyed the entire armor Chris was wearing in a single blow.

“she... she doesnt punch ME like that... i mean, probably because she loves me, but..”

“did... did she just kill that person...? hibiki...? you, uh... you alright...?”

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [16] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“I can’t speak to her.” Roger’s got his head on a bar in a pub that’s not Ash’s.

“Can I go back to pretending I don’t know what was going on?” Brian asks, taking a long sip of his drink and gazing out at the crowd. It’s been over a week since Ash had stayed over, and they hadn’t seen her since. It’s not like she’d even asked about him, or made a move to contact him; sometimes they go a full fortnight before seeing one another, but Roger’s been fretting for almost eight days internally, and for the past twenty minutes externally, since he’d finished his first drink.

“She said she loves me.” Roger groaned, lifting his head to weakly order another pint. 

“From what you’ve told me, she wasn’t even fully conscious; it’s not like it counts.” Brian had never seen Roger downright distressed like this, it would be funny if it wasn’t bordering on annoying.

“No, that means she was extra honest,” Roger groaned, downing half his beer in on go, to which Brian could only roll his eyes.

“Or she was still asleep and thought you were Jack Nicholson.” After a beat, Brian goes back to watching Roger brood over his glass. “Boo hoo, Rog,” he shoved the blonde lightly, to which Roger just leveled a glare at him, “a girl you’ve been seeing for months maybe has feelings for you. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“It’s only been since I broke up with Kristin,” he’s adamant about that and Brian lets him have it, for now. In retrospect, he feels like an idiot for not seeing it sooner; Brian’s not sure when it started, but it’s definitely a lot longer than Roger’s willing to admit. “And it doesn’t mean nothing, but it also... it’s never meant something. Like it’s something but it’s not something. It’s just fucking around and having fun.” And Roger swivels on the bar stool, joining Brian in looking out over the crowd, before they spot Freddie crashing through the door, making a beeline for them once he’d spotted them.

“Alright, what did I miss?” Freddie asked, though the other two were quiet as he ordered a beer. Before either could get a word in edgewise, Freddie props his chin on his hand on the bar, and announces; “Roger you look like shit, what’s wrong?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s in love with Ash, and he thinks she’s in love with him.” Brian says blithely, and Freddie nods with understanding as Roger tells them to both sod off, and he stalks through to join the crowd on the dance floor. “She said she loved him in her sleep.” Brian explains, taking the chair Roger just freed, sliding into place beside Freddie.

“I’ve never seen him this worked up about someone before.” Freddie admitted, and Brian nodded in agreement, the two of them barely able to see his blonde hair for the crowd, and they lost sight of him soon enough.

“What do you think? Has Ash said anything?” Brian’s gaze slides to Freddie’s who just rolls his eyes.

“I think my dear Ash has never in her life loved a man who’s deserved it,” Freddie mused, though his lips twisted into a smirk, “that’s not to say she’s a saint, far from it, but compared to the others, Roger is a breath of fresh air.” 

“Isn’t that a sad thought.” Brian said faintly, before heaving a sigh. “Well, I know we haven’t been here long,” he got to his feet, finishing off his drink and looking around for his housemate, “but if I don’t drag him home he’s going to do something stupid in his current state.”

“Like that pretty, brunette thing over there?” Freddie asks, pointing to where Roger’s already got his lips on a wavy-haired brunette at the side of the room. Freddie’s pretty sure he sees Brian’s soul leave his body for a moment, and watches everything play out like a terrible Shakespearean comedy for which he was the only audience member.

“He’s a danger to himself.” Brian takes Freddie’s drink from his hands and takes a long gulp before passing it back, though Freddie doesn’t seem likely to complain.

“He seems rather fine,” Freddie watches Roger go in for a hickey on the girl with a morbid, voyeuristic interest, taking another sip of his drink, “and you know he and Ash aren’t technically exclusive.” 

“Yeah but there’s three options here; Ash finds out and gets pissed and I have to hear about it because apparently now that I know I’m all in on this disaster,” Brian lists on his fingers with a theatricality Freddie had rarely seen from him before, though he’d rarely seen Brian this exasperated before, so perhaps it was merely that, “two, Ash isn’t pissed, sleeps with someone else, and Roger gets pissed because he’s in love with her-”

“Which is unfair, what a tremendous double standard.”

“Yes, we all know Roger’s a hypocrite.” Brian sighed, casting a glance over his shoulder at Roger, before turning back to Freddie.

“And three?” The other man prompted, and Brian picked up his empty pint glass.

“I kill him with this glass because I’m sick of his sulking.” He says bluntly, and Freddie’s all for the third option, but he begrudgingly helps pull Roger away, to which the drummer complains the whole time.

“Where are we going?” Roger demands to know when they head in the opposite direction of his apartment, a sentiment that Brian mirrors, though he doesn’t seem inclined to question Freddie’s direction outright. Freddie always had a plan. The man in question wrapped an arm around Roger’s shoulders.

“You’re going to confront your problems, Rog.” He sounds so decisive, as if it wasn’t a plan he’d come up with as they were leaving the bar, and Roger tries to scramble his way out of it, but Brian’s fed up enough with Roger’s complete inability to do anything but run from his problems that he’s willing to take Roger’s arm in an almost iron grip.

“It’ll do both of us a world of good.” Brian tells him as Roger glowers at his housemate.

“You don’t get to decide what’s good for me; what’s good for me was that girl at the bar, she smelled nice and was about three minutes away from banging me in that bathroom.” Roger snarled, wrenching himself out of their grips, though he didn’t run this time, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked with them.

“Rog, we’re not gonna let you ruin a good-” But Brian’s gentle sigh was cut off by more of the blonde blustering.

“That’s so presumptuous!” He stopped in his tracks, scowling between both of his band-mates. “You’re both wankers, selfish fucking wankers. This is kidnapping.” He snaps.

“Fine; if you want to leave, we’re not stopping you.” Freddie offers, gesturing freely at the path behind them. “We’re just trying to help.” 

Roger stomped the entire walk to Ash’s apartment. 

“What the fuck, guys.” She opens the door with her hair in a messy bun, wearing a pair of sweat pants and a ratty, oversized Beatles shirt. “How did you get in?” 

“Your RA let us in; sorry for the interruption, just had to deliver this idiot.” Brian gave Roger’s shoulder a nudge. Roger is looking at anything but Ash. His latest drink had hit him about the same time as he got to her block, and now that he can smell the vanilla candle she likes to burn in her room just beyond her, he just wants to curl up and go to sleep under her duvet. Or fuck her. He’s not quite sure.

“Can I return to sender?” She asks without hesitation, and Roger rolls his eyes. Freddie shoves him forward.

“No.” 

Ash doesn’t move, just frowns as Roger stumbles into her space, and she’s automatically got a hand on his chest to steady him. Roger doesn’t seem like he’s there completely of his own free will, but he doesn’t move away from her, even as both Brian and Freddie leave, muttering something about him being ‘her problem now’.

“Care to explain?” She asked, gently walking him backwards and closing her door behind herself. The two of them make their way to the common area, and Roger sits up on the kitchen counter as Ash pours him a glass of water.

“Not really.” He said, sipping the water loudly and swinging his legs so his heels kick the cupboards below. Ash looks like the very sight of him exhausts her, but she rests her hands on her thighs, pressing herself against his legs to still them. “We can fuck whoever we want, Ash.” He says, seriously, and he sees the exact moment she realised the reason for his forced meeting, and he watched her expression fall.

“Yeah of course.” She agrees, crestfallen expression turning quickly to faux apathy. “Did you have fun?” But her heart wasn’t in it.

“They pulled me away, brought me here before anything really happened.” He huffed, taking another long sip. Ash stepped away, yawning loudly and sinking into a chair at the dining table. After a beat, Roger hums thoughtfully. “Ash, what do I mean to you?” And it’s so nonchalant it actually hurts Ash a little.

“I think that’s a really shitty thing to ask right now.” Her answer is automatic, she can’t look at him. “And I think you’re drunk.” 

“Ash...” It does register in his mind that he’s said the wrong thing, and it breaks his heart to see her too tired to repress her emotions like she usually would in this situation. Perhaps she assumes he won’t even remember this tomorrow. “Ash, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” She says softly. “You’re always sorry, and I’m always sorry, and there’s always someone else that feels like a mistake, even though we don’t technically need to apologise.” Shaking her head, she sighs deeply. “This isn’t the time for this conversation.” She admits, and standing, she takes his hand. “Come to bed, Rog.” 

When they’re back in her room, she pulls off her sweat pants and offers them to him without even thinking about it, and he’s quiet, forlorn when he takes them, changing into the borrowed pyjamas. Ash is already tucked into bed when he turns back, back to him, pressed as close to the wall as she can get with her head pillowed on her hand, not even attempting to co-opt some of the pillow for herself. There’s sewing equipment out, obviously still in use in the corner of her room, a blouse half sewn and still in the machine where it was left when it’s creation had been interrupted by a knock at the door.

When he slides into bed beside her, reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder - an apology? a reassurance? just a need for human contact? - she shrugs him off, murmurs a quiet ‘don’t’. 

“I panicked.” They’re back to back, and the bedside lamp has been turned off. Roger isn’t even sure if Ash is still awake. He speaks into the silence, made honest by the hour and his inebriation. “You told me you loved me and I panicked.”

“Roger... I never said that.” Ash’s voice was confused in the darkness, and Roger feels like his whole world has fallen out from under him. He’s spent over a week considering whether or not she’d remember; if it had been real, whether she’d really meant it, but he’s never quite sure which answer would hurt more.

“You... were mostly asleep.” He admits, and he can feel the way Ash sighs heavily, the shift of her back against his as she tries not to hear it.

“Wow, imagine what kinky shit you and the girl from the bar would have gotten up to if I’d meant it.” She just sounds tired, as though she was trying to end the conversation, as though she hadn’t just shattered Roger’s heart. After a beat, she laughed humorlessly. “What are we doing, Roger?”

“I think Brian’s right.” And his words are enough to startle a weak laugh from Ash. “I want this to be about more than sex, I think.”

“You’re drunk and panicking; don’t worry, I’ll still work with the band if this goes south.” Ash says. Roger won’t take that, can’t let himself fall into the trap of panicking like he’d already fallen into that night. Turning, Roger presses his lips to the back of her neck, and Ash doesn’t like to think about how good it makes her feel.

“I’m sorry-” He tries, but she cuts him off.

“I heard you the first time.” Voice terse, she crosses her arms awkwardly over her chest. “Roger the idea of being with you fucking terrifies me.” She admits, raw and honest, glad he can’t see how conflicted she was. “You were so worried that I was in love with you that you almost slept with someone else, and for what? Were you worried you were losing control of your life? Didn’t want to be tied down?” Roger’s got an arm on her shoulder, rubbing comfortingly as she speaks, and he can feel her shaking.

“I know I’m not a saint, okay, love?” Roger admits, and Ash takes a long moment to consider his words, leaning back a little into his touch, before answering.

“Neither of us are, Roger, and that’s why what we have is so good right now.” Her voice has softened, and Roger stays quiet. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” She says gently, before reaching to link her fingers with his where he’s got his hand on her shoulder. She pulls him closer, and Roger makes a low hum, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.

When the morning comes, things are quiet and golden. Neither one knows what to say to the other, but Ash still gets him a cup of tea in the morning, and when he sees the cup with the little cat face on it, Roger feels something tighten in his chest. 

“Let’s try this, please.” He asks, expression sincere when he looks at where Ash is tucking herself back into bed, pressing herself against his side. The look she gives him is confused, and then it blooms into something hopeful. “I’m not fucking around here, I mean it.”

When she kisses him, her hand is warm where it had been holding her teacup, and she’s smiling against her lips. There’s a tension in her shoulders, and he can’t stop playing her words back over again in his head, ‘the idea of being with you fucking terrifies me’ and it’s clear that feeling hasn’t vanished over night.

But she’s willing to try.

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