#I'm so tired of shit where people take what someone says at face value without any fucking proof at all

[tlbodine]

Socializing 2.0 - Talking to People Who Are Upset

I was trying to write this as a reblog to my other "how to socialize" post and it keeps glitching out, which is very irritating. So here, let's try it on its own post.

Last time I talked about some tips for making small talk, and some scripts/talking points for how to show interest in what people are saying even if the topic doesn't excite you.

Now, I want to talk about a different scenario that can be really challenging for everybody (but, I think even harder for folks who don't come by empathy easily). Which is: How do you talk to somebody who is upset or having a tough time? How do you express sympathy without making the thing about you and your feelings?

While I'm by no means an expert at this, and I can't claim I've got the solution for every scenario you might encounter, I do have some tips and techniques that have helped me along the way and hopefully they can prove useful to you, too.

STEP ONE: Identifying that a person is upset

Sometimes it's very easy to tell that someone is upset, because they will yell "ARGH I AM SO MAD ABOUT THIS!!!" or they will be crying or some other obvious outward sign. Other times, though, it can be kind of tricky to tell. It's even harder in text, where you sometimes have to guess whether someone is jokingly mad or mad-mad when they post keysmashes, all caps, angry emojis, etc etc.. Folks also sometimes deflect from their actual emotions by joking them off. Or they'll say something you feel is alarming, but then don't act like it's a big deal.

People are complicated, in other words. So it's OK if you get this wrong sometimes. Everybody does.

In general, some signs that people might have something the matter:

Obvious outward expression of emotion (yelling, crying)

Acting more withdrawn or subdued than normal

Appearing distracted or disengaged

Looking more disheveled than usual

Acting unusually rambunctious or like they're compensating

If you notice somebody seems upset but you're not 100% sure, you have a few options:

Politely ignore it.

Let them bring it up if they want to. This is a safe bet if you are not very close -- ie, they're strangers, coworkers, acquaintances etc. HOWEVER, if you choose this route, you can still do this person a kindness by not imposing on them.

For example, if your coworker seems upset about something and you have a question about the job, could you ask someone else instead of approaching upset coworker? Could you quietly do them a favor? For example, could you offer to take over for them at the register and let them work in the back? Offer to watch things while they take a break? Small kindnesses can make a big difference in someone's day. It's not always possible, but it's nice when you can!

If nothing else, try to avoid dumping anything on them while they seem upset. If you're also having a shit day, you can probably find someone else to rant to.

Ask if they're okay.

This is more appropriate if you have a rapport with the person. If they are your friend or romantic partner, or if you have a rapport with them and want to express that you care, it's probably best to acknowledge that you've noticed something is wrong. Avoid saying anything that might be perceived as aggressive; don't way "What's wrong" or (even worse) "What's wrong with you?" Instead, try, "Is everything okay? You seem a little down today."

They may respond:

I'm just a little tired

I'm kind of distracted

What? Oh, haha, no, I'm fine...

Sometimes they mean this at face value, but more often what they actually are communicating is "I'm not OK but I don't feel comfortable talking about it."

That's fine. Don't pry. Drop the subject, and proceed as above -- politely ignore their perceived signs of discomfort, but be kind to them and avoid dumping anything on them unnecessarily.

Do not be surprised or alarmed if, after some time has passed, they come back around to reopen the subject and start to open up about whatever is bothering them. Then again, don't take it personally if you never figure out what the deal was. Maybe they really did just have a headache. Maybe they had an issue they figured out on their own. Either way, it's no longer your problem.

(note: this is a little more complicated if it's someone you live with and it goes on for a while, but that scenario is out of scope for this post).

STEP TWO: They Told Me They're Upset

Okay! So whether you started here with them, or this just came up after you asked if things were ok, you now have confirmed that a person is upset!

If they tell you the gist of what's going on, it's a good idea to acknowledge it. But stay fairly neutral about it and avoid value judgments.

For example: "My grandpa died"

An appropriate response might be, "I'm sorry to hear that" or "Oh jeez, I'm sorry :("

Some other great all-purpose responses when someone says something bad happened are: "Dude, that sucks :(" and "oh no!" or "oof."

Next -- and this is really important -- you should follow up by asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

(you can also use that question any time someone says something vague like "I had a shitty day today" or "I'm so pissed off.")

If they say no, they don't want to talk about it, follow up with, "Well, let me know if there's anything I can do." And then, ideally, volunteer a couple options of things you can do, depending on your relationship and what you are capable of doing: cover their shift, approve their time off, take care of a chore, listen if they change their mind.

If they DO want to talk about it, by all means, let them talk.

Ask if they would like advice or if they just want to get it off their chest. If they don't ask for advice, don't give them any.

Use your active listening skills and ask questions. Avoid prying or traumatic questions, but don't be shocked if you receive more intensive answers than you expected. A safe question to ask when someone says someone died is to say, "Were you close?" or if a pet died, "How long did you have them?"

Validate their emotions, but avoid bringing your own judgments to the table unless they ask for your honest opinion. For example, if someone is ranting about their romantic partner, it's cool to say, "I'm sorry that happened. You shouldn't have to put up with that." but it's not so cool to say "Your SO sounds like a dick, you should leave them."

Ask if they would like a distraction or to be cheered up. If you're in person, and you're amenable to the task, "Do you want a hug?" is also acceptable. (just respect whatever they said).

You'll want to be mindful of your energy. I personally have the best luck with projecting calm, neutral, slightly joke-y vibes. "It do be like that" and "Dude, that sucks" delivered with some genuine warmth in your tone or an empathetic emoji can go a long way.

STEP THREE: How to Not Make It About You

There are a few ways you can unintentionally make something be about you when someone else brings up something that's upsetting them:

One-upping them. "That's nothing. This one time, I had...."

Invalidating them or passing judgment. "That's not a big deal" or "What an asshole!" (you can agree with them that someone is being a dick, bit they need to be the one who says it first)

Trying to relate to them by telling a story about your own experiences, which ends up taking a really long time, or puts them in the awkward position of feeling like they have to comfort you.

OK. So a couple things.

Relating to people with relatable experiences is not a bad thing! In fact sometimes it can be really helpful! HOWEVER if you go that route you need to be really cautious of a couple points:

The story needs to be brief and stick only to the most relevant details. it's FINE if you don't provide the full absolute context of the entire scenario. You just need to tell them the relatable part, and then relate that back to them and how they are feeling.

For example:

"I'm so sorry to hear your dog died. I had to put my cat to sleep last year and I remember how guilty I felt, worrying whether I waited too long. Did you have a lot of time to prepare with your dog or was it pretty sudden?"

This is good! Here you are relaying information that you understand some of what they're going through, introduce an emotion that may or may not resonate with them, and then hand the conversation back to them with a question. Now they might tell you all about how, yes, they worried about that same thing too! Or no, their thing was really sudden and unexpected. Or whatever they tell you!

Then you can respond to that thing like, "Oh wow, I can't imagine how rough that must have been." or "Jeez, that's so hard. How are the kids taking it?" or whatever else seems appropriate in that moment.

STEP FOUR: OK But Now They Won't Shut Up About It?

One downside to expressing concern in other people's affairs is that this can sometimes mark you as their new confidant, purely because people so rarely just listen and care about other people.

If it's just the occasional bit of ranting, it's probably fine to just let them do their thing. And if they're coming to you to rant and off-load their stuff, then it's probably fine and expected that you can respond in time and maybe you guys are just ranting buddies.

But if you end up in a scenario where they can ALWAYS complain about their thing, but you can NEVER complain about your thing, that is a toxic dynamic! That requires some intervention! Friendship cannot be built on that foundation.

If you've expressed your condolences or listened to someone rant about whatever is pissing them off and you feel you have nothing more to offer the conversation, you can just say that: "I don't know what else to say, really. It's a tough situation and I hope it gets better for you."

And then you can just. Exit the conversation.

Some additional lines to keep in your back pocket include:

"I think that's beyond my pay grade to help with. Have you spoken with (a therapist/counselor/clergy member/whatever)?"

"That's so frustrating! You should definitely go talk to (the person they are complaining about) about that."

"Well, if you ever need someone to (specific thing you actually are willing to do), let me know."

Being kind to people and showing concern for their problems does not mean you have to become an unpaid therapist or doormat. You get to maintain boundaries about that stuff.

Anyway! This is super long! There is so much more I could get into here but I'll leave it at that. I hope this is in some way helpful to you.

#long post #social skills #soft skills #psa #in case nobody ever told you #autism #adhd #neurodivergent #what else can I tag this as #blanket disclaimer #I am not a psychologist or a professional #I'm a writer who spends a lot of time watching humans #and am generally perceived as a good communicator #I guess #ok good luck have fun

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; when your father, the head of the japanese mafia, was killed, your childhood friend swore to protect you till his death. now, you're the empress of the underground world, and he doesn't know what's harder, to keep you safe or manage to hide his feelings. what will he do when, for the first time, your life's at risk and he isn't anywhere near?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mafia!au, angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; swearing, mentions of blood, guns, murder, kidnap, yk... mafia stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; lemme know if u want a part two bc i felt like it was getting too long and i don't know if anyone will read it or like it 👉🏻👈🏻

"where the fuck are you?" bakugou's voice stroke over the phone, noticeably angry. he had told you several times to never go anywhere without him, which you mostly did, if it weren't for him being away a lot of times. nothing less was expected from your right hand, who handled every dirty job, and considering your line of work, it wasn't scarce. but you did had other bodyguards, just as trained as katsuki, willing to give their lifes for you, which was extremely better than having bakugou giving his life.

to his eyes, you were still the little girl from before. he saw you as a someone who needed protection. at first, you agreed. your father was murdered, someone managed to get through all his security and killed him, none of the guns he and his security team carried around could protect him, killing you would be like stealing a sweet from a baby. bakugou had always kept you safe, despite his agressive usual safe, he cared about you more than he cared for himself. so you stuck to his side, believing, hoping, he'd die for you. but that was a long time ago, now, you could defend yourself, and had raised a sense of loyalty in your people by your own. your father's empire was based in fear, yours? by admiration. you didn't see your people as working ants, but as important parts of a whole. still, anyone who was a threat to you, bakugou made sure to erase them forever.

"don't talk to me like that, i'm your boss" you could feel him losing his shit, a smile began to form in your face. even when everyone respected you, he was still the same.

"you can't boss anyone if you're fucking dead, you dumb shit" a laugh came out of your throat, he couldn't avoid smiling at the sound "wait, oh, okay, i know we're you are. stay there, i'll be in three" he hung up before you could reply.

you looked back, at one of your guards who was just putting away his phone. of course they told him. why couldn't you go get your own coffee? being in the office all day was tiring, to be five minutes outside was all you asked for. a few seconds after, they handed you your coffee, obviously, a guard had to try it first, in case that barista wanted to suddenly murder you. of course he didn't.

"who let her go outside without me knowing, huh?" a furious katsuki appeared through the door, making a scene in the place. you gave him a warning look. if there was something you hated, was that. everyone in the area knew who you were, but why make it any more obvious. those people were just living their usual lifes, and people tend to get nervous around you. "the car is waiting outside" he understood, but you knew he was going to scold you anyways.

you walked outside, smiling, and got into the car, followed by katsuki and one of his subordinates, the other one got in the front sit, next to the driver.

"save it, i'm n–"

"the fuck you are" he cut you "your safety is my responsibility, if i say you can't go out without me, then you fucking don't. specially not when there are people after your head" there was no denying he was right, but still, it upset you.

"there's always people after my head, bakugou".

two weeks ago, two men went into your office. they were in charge of some dealing territories, though small, important. most contraband had to pass those places, you controlled those police departments making everything easier to your truck drivers. they were beaten, cover in blood and barely standing.

"our men, all of them... they all..." only one of them could talk, the other being too shocked to even look at you. "kazuhito's men, it was them... they said we had to tell you, they're coming after you" you couldn't show any fear in front of your so called soldiers, and your template remained at ease. a shout was enough to get those men the help they needed, after holding their hands, you promised to go see them once they were checked by doctors. you called bakugou as soon as they left, he was the first who should know and help you decide what to do next.

the kazuhito family had always been rivals, enemies of the worst kind. everyone suspect they were behind your father's assassination, but with no proof, even you knew it would be the biggest mistake to charge against them, despite your personal desires.

"i already told the drivers they had to take rout b for a while, but we can't let them just keep what's our" you explained to katsuki once he arrived. "those drugs have to get in town by us, damnit". it was clear how frustrated you were, those assholes had mess with your and your father's hardwork.

"if we retaliate, a war will unchain. your father tried to avoid that for years"

"and see how he ended up" bakugou didn't know if it was the anger, or you talking. "we will lose everyone's respect if we don't do something, they killed dozens of our people, katsuki".

he was trying hard to stay objective in that situation, but it was near impossible. a war would put you in more danger than ever, your life was at stake, and bakugou wasn't sure if he was willing to risk it. growing up by your side, your father taking him in when his parents died, you were his only family. more than that, he loved you. the only reason he was able to do his job right, was the fear of losing you. your head was already valued in millions, how could he protect you in the middle of a conflict, that would end only with your death or the kazuhito's leader's death? your power was bigger than theirs by little, but they did something that reckless, which meant they thought they had out powered you. had they? or were they just bluffing? had they miscalculated?.

"we're taking action, wether you support me or not" you looked into each other's eyes, you knew him enough to understand his fear, just not the reason behind it. your voice softened "but i'd much rather do it with you by my side".

"you're the boss" he spoke, already regretting it "i'll schedule a meeting so the high charges let everyone else know, i'm staying at your place so we can trace a plan".

and there you were now, being reprimanded by bakugou. he was extremely tired, he decided to stay with you until things were calmer, which could be several months from then. getting up at six a.m, going to sleep past midnight, being always looking for possible threats, it had given him bags under his eyes.

"i'm sorry" you said once you were alone with him, it was only then that you could let your guard down "i'm making this harder for you".

"yeah, you are. but it's my job, after all" that came out wrong, he thought. it wasn't his job, it was his fucking life purpose. he wanted you to live a long, happy life, as hard as it seemed.

"i guess it is" deep down, his response disappointed you.

"hey, look at me" out of nowhere, his body was insanely close to yours, you felt his breath in your face as he lifted your chin with his finger "there's nothing i wouldn't do for you, got that, dumbass?"

for a brief moment, the taste of his lips was all you could think about. i bet they're soft. but as fast as it started, it was over, katsuki pulled away harshly, inventing an excuse to leave. he had flown too close to the sun, so close that it burned his skin.

a few more people went to see you that day, asking for diverse permissions, advice and stuff like that. since it had been slow, compared to other times, you decided to home early. a call to your team, and the car was already outside. bakugou left instructions for your departure, because he had things to do somewhere else, much to his displeasure. you were accompanied by your escorts to the doors of the building, that seemed like a normal office compound. there were waiting two other guards, making a total of six people protecting you. way to go, bakugou.

"how's your wife, ryota?" you asked the driver. of course, not everyone fitted in the same car, so you got into the second one, middle seat, between a built up woman and a big man. you tried to remember everyone's name, but it was difficult.

"she's good, ma'am, sends her regards" he smiled at you over the mirror.

"and the baby? he must be a month old, right?" at the memory of his child, his face lightened "you should take some days off, i bet your wife and son miss you"

"i have a duty with you, m–" a loud impact interrupted him, the front glass had exploded. the car had an abrupt movement back and forward, all you could see was blood, everywhere.

the woman next to you took her gun out, in order to protect you , you thought, completely wrong. before everyone could react to her act, she shot the guard in front of you.  you looked at your side, searching for someone alive, the same bullet that had killed ryota was in the guard's at your right forehead. besides you , the only other person was that woman. if she hadn't glasses on, that stare could've seen throughout your soul. then you remembered, katsuki made you bare with a knife under your sleeve. with a weird move, you felt its sharpness against your skin, it was there, but she read you like a book. before you could even pull it out, another shot stroke followed by a intense pain in you thight. the bitch had shot you. you blamed it on the adrenaline, because nothing hurt. what happened after was a couple of blurry images in your memory.

bakugou had called you more than a hundred times, you, the drivers, the guards, everyone in his fucking team, but no one knew anything. the cameras at your house never showed you arriving, your phone's location was off. he was out of his head, if he didn't hear from you in the next five minutes, someone's going to die. he rushed into his car, following your rout at a dangerous speed. 

both cars were full of bullet holes, and every guard he had hired was dead. there wasn't a place without blood. tears of pure rage came to his eyes, fuck, it was his fault. he started to look for you, but the whole world was spinning around him. where were you? where was your body? were you alive?, this couldn't be happening. he had left you unprotected, alone, and now you could be dead, because of his uselessness. his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"sir, we– we have– the kazuhito's are here" he left as fast as he came. they had touch you, they had taken you away from him, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it, even if he had to go against a whole army, whoever was behind it all was going to pay.

a man in a suit was sitting in the chair of your office, smoking a cigarette, as calm as a rock. katsuki was so close to rip his head of right there, that somebody had to hold him down. his own people updated him, saying that he had gone into the building alone, with no weapons of any kind, not even a cellphone.

"where the fuck is she?" he crashed his hand against the desk.

"ah, mr. bakugou, please take a se–"

"tell me where she is right now if you want to keep your head, fucking bastard" his hand had wondered to the tip of the gun in his belt, menacing to blow up at any second.

"you won't do that, mr., if i don't return to my people in one hour, she'll be so fucked up that not even you will recognize her" a laugh surge grom bakugou, a dark, cold laugh.

"i don't have to kill you, then" one of the man's hand rested in the desk, like asking for katsuki to rip it off his body. as you did, he also carried knifes under his shirt. in less than a second, one of them was buried into the man's hand. he screamed, both in shock and pain, giving your bodyguard a hatred look. "what do you want, shitface?"

"i-it's quite simple, actually" his face was white as paper, and even though he wanted to talk normally, his voice shivered "we want you to take over the y/l/n's business, under our command of course" he let out a sigh, trying to keep his composure and ignoring his bleeding hand "if you– if you agree, she will have to leave japan and never..."

bakugou won't agree to that. not now and not ever. to give away what you and your father built from scratch, and spent decades keeping safe, was like killing your child, and your father's memory. to send you away, alone, where he most likely won't see you again in years, was also off the table. it wasn't funny anymore. he started walking around the man's chair, picking up his sleeves. he checked the clock in the office, he had forty-five minutes with the man, meaning, forty-five minutes to make him talk. he ressourced to every fast interrogation method he knew. the people outside the door weren't surprised when they heard the man's screams, even wondering what had taken so long for the boss to start acting. katsuki was never a patient man. his senses were blocked, he couldn't hear anything but screams and begging, all his eyes could see was pain through all the man's body, his hands felt nothing but warm blood. but for the first time in a while, he wasn't enjoying it. he was doing it out of need, the need to save you. every minute that went by, was a minute were your life risked. he never felt so close to losing his sanity.

"outside the city! she's in one of our safe houses outside the city! i don't know which, please stop!" ten minutes before the timeline he finally gave up. your intelligence had all their safe houses, storages, garages, every location needed. not a second passed when one of yours men delivered a map with all the points marked. there were five in total.

"throw him outside in ten minutes" he shouted, walking to the armory "two teams, six people each, my fucking people, hear me? now, dammit! we're leaving in a minute, if i have to go by my fucking self, i'll do it"

when he was armed to the teeth, almost a dozen of people followed him outside. they were his most trusted men and women, being trained together, he knew they were as skilled as him, and they were all willing to put their life's at stake for you, their boss. in the car, bakugou barked the instructions. he had narrowed it down to two possible locations with all the information he had. if they had to kill every person in those places, then be it. he's going to get you back.

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou bnha #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bnha #mha katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bnha mafia au #mha mafia au #bakugou mafia au #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fanfiction #– star's; originals! [❀]

[cherry-ber]

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”

Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader

Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.

Genre: fluff mostly, angst.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.

A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how

After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.

An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.

Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.

He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.

He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.

“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”

He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.

“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”

The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.

After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.

On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.

Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.

“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.

“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.

“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”

She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.

“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”

“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”

She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.

“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.

“I'm Mark, by the way”

“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”

It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.

One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.

“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”

The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.

She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.

“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.

“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”

“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”

He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.

When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.

“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.

Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.

They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.

Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”

He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.

“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”

Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.

“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”

Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks

“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”

Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”

He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”

She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”

“Not the way I want you to”

She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.

“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.

“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.

Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”

“Drink water and have a painkiller,

I had to go home. Thanks for the wine

-Y/N”

Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.

With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”

#nct theme #nct 127 #nct #nct icons #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark drabbles #nct bf material #nct blurbs #nct soft imagines #nct soft hours #mark imagines #mark lee #lee mark #nct drabbles #mark lee smut #mark lee soft hours #nct smut #nct x reader #mark smut #mark soft hours #nct blog

[jaskiersvalley]

hello! first of all I absolutely love your work, thank you so much for all this geraskier content! so it's not really a prompt, but one of the tropes I'm obsessed with is definitely the first kiss. would you write some more of this? maybe in a modern au? (or not!! whatever inspires you) anyway, thank you again for your writing and have a good day :))

First kiss in a modern AU, you say? It’s almost like you reached into my heart and pulled out one of my weaknesses. Plus, I could never say no to such a sweet request. I hope you’ve having a good day, Nonnie!

When Jaskier signed the lease on his apartment, he was a little dubious but money was tight and something about the Kaer Morhen block of flats was appealing. The landlord lived on site, there was a promise of round the clock help for emergencies and issues with the flat. Sure, it was old and looked a bit shoddy but the flat itself was sturdy and the residents all seemed quiet judging by the couple of times Jaskier went to view the place before deciding to sign a year long contract.

Moving in was quite a mundane affair. He had Priscilla and Valdo helping move his boxes but Jaskier was moving from one furnished flat to another so other than boxes of books, trinkets, clothes and kitchen stuff, there wasn’t much else. Still, it would have been an ego boost to have a musclebound man or two gallantly offering to help. Or even for a new neighbour to stick a head out and greet him. Alas, Jaskier was going to have to live without either of those things happening.

What he did end up having was a knock on his door in the evening when he was staring at his boxes, willing them to magically unpack themselves while he drank his wine. He couldn’t fathom who it was, maybe Valdo had left his phone somewhere yet again. Idiot always had it on silent and kept putting it down in places. Last time, they’d found it in Priscilla’s bathtub. Opening the door, Jaskier blinked at the weathered, older man before him.

“Mr. Pankratz. I trust moving went smoothly. I’m Vesemir, your landlord and wanted to say hello. I trust the flat is to your satisfaction and moving went smoothly. Any issues, I’m on the second floor, feel free to knock.”

A personal call by one’s landlord while sweaty and dirty from a move and pleasantly buzzed from the wine that was clutched in one hand was not Jaskier’s idea of an ideal occurrence but he nodded gratefully. The flat was indeed to his satisfaction. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t the absolute shithole he’d fears things would turn out to be.

Of course things don’t go as stunningly well as Jaskier had hoped. Because while the flat was better than most, it was still cheap. Which meant that the washing machine broke down a few weeks into his life in his new home.

Knocking on the door on the second floor, Jaskier felt a little sheepish but Vesemir opened up with a gruff “yes?” that helped words come easier.

“My washing machine is giving me trouble, any chance you could have someone look at it please?”

“I’ll send Lambert this evening.” That was that. Jaskier nodded and returned back home, wondering whether Lambert was the handyman or someone Vesemir trusted.

It turned out, Lambert was one of the most terrifying people Jaskier had ever met. He was spiky and sharp, almost every sentence was punctuated by swearing. It only got worse when Jaskier showed him to the washing machine and left. Initially, it was just grunts and muttered curses but they progressively got louder and more inventive.

“Get to work you bucket of rust and bolts! Or I’m drop kicking your sorry corpse to the nearest tip!” The screaming was followed by loud banging, as if the machine was being punched repeatedly. After a minute of sudden silence, Lambert appeared. “It’s working,” he said and let himself out of the flat.

Almost hesitant to go into the bathroom, Jaskier was stunned to find that the washing machine was merrily chugging away as if it hadn’t been making a death rattle earlier that day. The fist shaped hole in the plaster behind the door was a whole different matter. It was going to be an awkward conversation to have in the morning with Vesemir and Jaskier dreaded to explain that his washing machine worked like a dream but now he had a hole in his wall. How he was going to get the old man to believe it wasn’t Jaskier’s doing was beyond him.

All worries were swept away when, first thing in the morning there was a knock on Jaskier’s door. He was suspicious, especially when he came face to face with a burly, scarred man who looked like he ripped the heads off dolls for living.

“Lambert mentioned you’ll need a bit of plastering. I’m Eskel.”

Too stunned to do anything other than step aside and let man in, Jaskier watched him walk into the bathroom. Half an hour later he was given an almost cheerful wave and the promise of coming back to paint it in a couple of days.

As promised, Eskel was back three days later. Jaskier felt a little braver and trailed after him. Strangely, Eskel seemed shy, he always twisted and turned so the scarred side of his face was hidden from Jaskier. Somehow, it seemed like a habit rather than a conscious decision and it made Jaskier wonder just what had happened to land Eskel with such habits, not to mention such scars. Then again, Lambert had scars as well. Maybe Vesemir had some kind of weird scar fetish he indulged with the handymen he employed.

It didn’t take long to paint the patch and Jaskier was impressed at how well it blended into the surrounding paint. He watched Eskel duck his head shyly at being praised. That was something to file away for later.

The later came a lot sooner than expected because not a month later, Jaskier’s tap gave up the ghost. First on the scene was, as before, Lambert. He looked at the tap like it was offending him on a personal level and Jaskier decided to leave him to it. A wise decision, especially when the clanging of a tap and sink having the ever loving shit beaten out of them started up.

“I could smack my cock and get more of a dribble from it than you piece of shit!” Lambert raged. 

It sounded like Jaskier’s whole kitchen was going to be collateral. Quietly, he just hoped the neighbours don’t think ill of him, surely they all knew Lambert’s unique style of DIY. There was a soft knock on the door and Jaskier was surprised to find a tired looking Eskel offering a soft apology.

“I’ll send Geralt up in a minute. He’s better at plumbing. Let me just get my little spark out of your hair.”

Silently, Jaskier stood aside and gestured for Eskel to make himself at home. He got to watch as there was zero hesitation in Eskel as he stepped into the kitchen with a soft “hey Sparky”. For a few minutes there were only soft murmurs from the kitchen. When the door finally opened again, Jaskier tried not to stare at the linked hands or worry about the fact Lambert seemed to be wearing the hoodie Eskel had arrived in.

A quick peek into the kitchen and it looked surprisingly intact. Deciding to leave it and opt for a delivery for food, Jaskier closed the door. Not half an hour later there was a firm knock on his door. Opening it, a few things flitted through Jaskier’s mind. One, Vesemir definitely had a thing for facial scars. Two, Jaskier had found his muse. Three, he believed firmly in lust at first sight.

“I’m here about your tap. Eskel said Lambert didn’t have much luck with it.”

This must have been Geralt. Jaskier trailed after him into the kitchen and ended up hopping onto the counter to watch him work. Not the most verbose of men but Jaskier found that beauty didn’t come from words.

“I couldn’t quite gather what’s wrong with the tap,” he began, trying to make small talk. “Lambert didn’t say much. Well, he said a lot but nothing of value.”

“That’s Lambert for you,” Geralt rumbled as he shimmied under the sink to look at a pipe. “He usually does electrics and machines, Eskel general decorating and odd jobs while I’m more for plumbing.”

Which was good to know because Jaskier wanted to see Geralt again. It took a couple of hours before water flowed from the tap again but Jaskier was happy to wait. It meant more time watching Geralt get sweaty in small, tight spaces.

From then on, Jaskier had a lot of plumbing issues. As many as he could make up and engineer. Nothing to actually damage the piped but enough to warrant calling Geralt out for them. It also meant he learned a lot about his landlord and the family who owned Kaer Morhen. They were an adoptive family and nothing to do with blood. Ex-army, all served together which explained the scars. While the three younger men called each other brothers, it didn’t stop Lambert and Eskel sharing a flat. It seemed to be a running joke that they all called it saving money and generating more income by freeing up another flat to rent out. However, Jaskier had seen just once how freely affectionate the two were with each other and there was no doubt that the jokes were an old habit while everybody and the world knew just how much those two were very much in love.

Despite all his attempts to draw Geralt out and spend more time with him with artificial problems, Jaskier still found his bathtub was clogging against his will. It was becoming impossible and he had to call Geralt out once more. This time, for a serious matter.

After half an hour of Geralt humming flatly at the issue, he straightened up and looked at Jaskier.

“You need to stop jerking off so much in the bathtub. Your jizz is clogging the pipes. Just use tissue, condoms or even a sock from now on.”

Flushing bright red, Jaskier gawped. “I have never! I mean-” Geralt gave him a half amused look. “Fine. But if you’re so worried about where my come lands, maybe you’d be a willing receptacle for it instead.”

He’d said it out of annoyance rather than anything else but it was too late to take it back. Especially when Geralt kept staring at him.

“I would prefer a dinner date first,” Geralt drawled and stepped closer. They were almost nose to nose.

“Tonight. What time do you finish work?” Jaskier was demanding but he had also had enough of pining from afar. Now was a moment for action rather than dillydallying.

“I have just one job for today. Very annoying resident who keeps calling out for problems he’s obviously created. Once I’ve finished with his bath’s plumbing, I’m off the clock.”

Grinning, Jaskier leaned in. “Well, make it a rush job and don’t be late. I have got my hopes up.”

There was no telling who leaned in first but it didn’t matter. The most important thing was that Jaskier was finally kissing Geralt.

#geraskier #minor eskel/lambert #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #modern au #witcher wolf pack #tldr: jaskier rents a new place and vesemir (plus his sons) are the landlords/handymen

[greycappedjester]

Hi I'm so sorry I'm just too shy to ask this on ao3 but I was wondering: how is Slade's relationship with Dick? I don't mind them as a ship in general but in the story sometimes I feel like Slade gets too close to Dick and I thought if there was something platonic on his side? I'm sure you wouldn't do that in the story that's why I'm asking if it's only on Slade's side. Sorry if this is a stupid question lol. Maybe it's just because I've read sl/adedick fics before. ^^D

Nah, I’ve actually been waiting for someone to ask about that. So....it’s complicated and will take awhile to explain so I’m putting it under a Read More before I get too long winded with my character headcanons:

This is going to get soooooo long, lol, so feel free to skim. Warning for Gotham in general and Gotham being naturally a bad place for kid vigilantes to grow up in. Also because this explanation gets somewhat dark in character interpretation....

Bonus short story at the end after a really long post.

-------

Alright, so first, I feel like I should mention again that I never watched the Teen Titans animated show past maybe the first two episodes and the movie my friends wanted me to watch that I don’t really remember. (I meant to watch that show, just never got around to it). I say this because I heard that the Teen Titans TV show portrayed the Dick and Deathstroke relationship much differently in a way that’s cool and fine but not something I can see myself really wanting to write about. I know their relationship more from comics where Dick was already an adult (albeit a young adult) when he first met Slade. 

So. Back to my After the Fall of Olympus universe and yeah, I’m slowly getting to my answer. The thing is....the story is entirely in Dick’s POV right now.

And Dick’s absolutely terrible at reading and picking up any form of affection others have for him. He understands it abstractly (he knows people care) but when assessing, he critically underestimates it if he remembers to account for it at all. This goes even worse with people he’s closer to--which is why it took him forever to realize why Jason actually did want to stay with him at the manor and why he still has no idea Barbara is in love with him. Even Kory who was really, really direct about liking him, it took him years to fully emotionally process and respond to that. He’s getting better...but remembering his own value (in others eyes) isn’t something he’s overwhelming good at doing.

My headcanon, he is abnormally good at reading people and picking up basic sexual attraction. He’s good at telling when he’s being flirted with or when people are attracted to him and, honestly, Dick’s charismatic and instinctively a flirt, too.With that, partly from growing up in Gotham with its weird and supremely dark villains, I think Dick very much divorces the two concepts of romantic attraction and sexual flirting in his mind--he’s aware they can go together, obviously with Kory--but he doesn’t naturally pair them as other people probably would. It’s also part of why he just doesn’t get the level of concern Tim has about Catalina.

Okay, back to my point.

The way I write Slade and Dick’s relationship is actually mostly done off screen. But, I think Slade started with approval of Dick’s skills and potential in a clinical/objective view, growing respect and interest (personal but not at all romantic) in him as a person, and much more recently in the story (as in that last conversation he had in Ch. 18), I think Slade realized he has some legitimate attraction and cares a lot about Dick in a way that’s probably romantic.

Slade also is very, very aware immediately that he’s not going to do anything with that and, in a way, doesn’t want to because Dick ever responding to that would be jeopardizing his relationship with his family, his team, his view of his morals (which are so integral to Dick) in a way that would be exceptionally out of character and concerning coming from Dick. In other words, something happening would be a lot more terrifying than nothing happening and Slade cares.

For Dick, it’s a lot more simple. He does not have any romantic feelings there. He does in a somewhat analytical, unconscious way recognize that Slade’s probably attracted to him (probably before Slade noticed honestly) but he’s....well, kind of used to that at some level. More so, Dick doesn’t connect it to emotional care and--like with everyone else--vastly underestimates that Slade does care about him in a way that’s actually pretty selfless for a mercenary. For a romance, your guess is absolutely right, it’s not going to go anywhere in this series but I wanted the undertones and implications to be there in the final third of the story

....But, that’s also more of a later/recent development in that relationship. For most of the story that’s posted so far, Slade sees his relationship with Dick as a lot of respect and even care but not as romantic in any way. I can promise no romantic undertones at all until Dick was already in his 20s because I really, really am not interested in writing underage. (for those curious about Slade’s age in the story, I think of him as mid-20s in his introduction in Year 3 and pretty early 30s here to Dick’s early 20s)

Above everything, they respect each other and would be almost friends if that were possible.

The team and his family doesn’t know any of this.

Anyway, that was long, so here’s a bonus short story from Slade’s view. I write a lot of After the Fall of Olympus short stories in other charcter’s views that I’m not planning on posting until After the Fall of Olympus.

This one’s between Year 5 and 6 and is titled “October 7th”:

-------

It’s October 7th, almost two in the morning, and Slade’s camped out in a somehow still standing bombed out apartment in a no-name village in the middle of a war-torn country.

He’s not exactly expecting visitors.

There’s a knock on the apartment door.

Slade cocks his gun and puts two rounds in the door before, for good measure, adding matching ones on either side of the frame.

He has two seconds to let himself pretend that’s the end of it before the door knob turns to the unmistakable sound of a skilled lock pick. 

Fuck, he’s too tired for this shit today. 

“Geeze, Slade, what if I’d been an innocent civilian?”

Slade’s hand stills on the gun in surprise then consideration before slowly slipping it back into the holster. 

“Kid,” he greets. “There’s no innocent civilians left around here. ‘Specially ones that can make it to my door without me hearing any footsteps.”

“I’ve been working on that.” Dick says, walking into the apartment. He isn’t even wearing his uniform, just plain black military style clothes with the lower half of his face covered by a piece of cloth. He pushes it down and smiles as he presses the door shut behind him. “You did tell me to get better, after all.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” he mutters without much heat. “You getting better almost left me out of a job.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Please, as if both of us don’t know Luthor could’ve gotten out of those charges in months. If the Light didn’t erase them for him, anyway.”

Slade shrugs. Maybe another time, he’d find the energy to banter back. But not today. Never today.

“Why are you here, Dick? How’d you find me?”

The smile slides off of Dick’s face, leaving behind those far too heavy eyes to belong to an eighteen year old.

“You know I have your file, Slade.” Dick clears his throat. “I know what day it is.”

….Fuck.

It’s not like he expected anything else. Not since the moment he saw the kid. But, still...he doesn’t want to deal with this. Doesn’t want to deal with anything. Today, he just wants to crawl back into the worst, most deserted corner of the world he can find until the hours creep passed and he can find the energy to move.

Instead, he glares. “Good for you. Now get the fuck out, kid.”

Dick grimaces but shakes his head. “Not until you answer a question for me.”

Slade groans and, for a handful of seconds, honestly contemplates just killing him, considers it in a way that he hasn’t since before he even met the kid, back when he was first handed a file by a practically no name organization called H.I.V.E.

He’d regret it later. Sure. He has too much he wants to see out of the kid to kill him in a shitty, dusty apartment. But, that regret would come later. Later, once this day had finally passed.

That alone is almost enough to have him reaching for his gun. Almost

“Grayson,” he finally grounds out, “if you know what day it is, you know I’m not exactly inclined to play our game of hero and villain right now. You want information, find someone else.”

“Good, I’m not here to play either. Only problem is I can’t ask anyone else, you're the only one who knows the answer.” Dick lowers himself to sit on the floor across from him, like a particularly stupid mouse in front of a viper.

And then, he looks up and his eyes are too steady to belong to prey.

“Here’s the question: Do you really want to be alone today, Slade?”

The breath catches in Slade’s`lungs, harsher than if the kid had just punched him.

He pushes the reaction down, already knowing it’s too late, and says in the steadiest voice he can manage, “Yes.”

Dick stares at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

The air around them is too tight, too burning, and Slade’s being pushed down under it to suffocate. 

He can’t fight it, so he takes it and pushes it back into anger. “The fuck, kid! What do you know?  You said you have my file, yeah? How long have you had it? Because I’m betting you’ve had it since we first met!” He lunges forward. “So, why are you here now, Dick? What makes this year so special? What’s made you decide to pretend to care now? Because whatever it is, kid, I can promise you, I’m not worth it. So, leave!”

By the end, he’s gripping Dick’s shirt, pulling it tighter until the collar has to be digging painfully into his neck. 

Dick doesn’t look away. “No.”

Slade doesn’t look away either. “You know I really think I might kill you right now.”

“You won’t.”

 One of Slade’s hands moves until it’s pressing into the kid’s neck. A single sharp twist and he could snap it. “So sure?”

Dick nods.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I brought your favorite whiskey.”

A brown bag is pressed into Slade’s ribs and the man feels something rising in his chest that could possibly be laughter if it was some other time.

He drops the kid.

He takes the bag.

“Pretty sure heroes aren’t supposed to be contributing to alcoholism, kid.” He gestures to a half empty bottle of much cheaper stuff beside him.

Dick coughs, rubbing at his throat. “Please. With your metahuman metabolism, I bet you can barely feel it for an hour.”

“Depends how much I drink,” Slade counters, eyeing the bottle. “How’d you know my favorite?”

Dick shrugs. “Gotta keep some secrets to myself.”

He fishes out a spare shot glass from somewhere in the black folds of his outfit and pours a small glass for himself. 

Slade raises an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, you’re still 18, kid.”

Dick gives him an incredulous look in return. “Last time I checked, this place doesn’t have a drinking age...or a government, actually.”

Slade hums, amused, using a larger glass for himself. “True, but thought you’d be following the laws of your own birth city a little closer, hero. Gotham’s still at 21...on the record at least.”

“Technically, Gotham’s not my birth city.” Dick snorts and takes the shot. 

Slade tilts his head. “Where were you born?”

Dick pauses, thinking, before offering a sheepish smile. “You know….I actually have no idea. Somewhere in Europe, probably? I came early, the circus was still on tour. One of the lion tamers helped deliver me, used to be a doctor.”

“Always a surprise, kid,” Slade shakes his head, draining his glass. Tasting it in his mouth and pretending it’s enough to wash away the ash.

The next words come before he can stop them.  “...Adeline always wanted two kids.”

Dick goes quiet.

“Of course,” Slade says to his glass and fuck it, just fuck it,  “turns out we didn’t even get the one. Turns out I didn’t get either my wife or my son.”

Fuck, he hates October 7th.

He reaches for the whiskey, ignoring how his hand shakes. “Addy was a soldier, you know? A good one. Of all the stupid fucking ways she could go, I never thought it’d be childbirth. Maybe I should have. Always knew I’d kill her somehow.”

“You didn’t kill her, Slade,” Dick says softly.

“Sure. Whatever,” he agrees, too tired to argue. It’s not as if he hasn’t heard every variation sometime or another. It’s just right now, he can’t quite bring himself to debate about the cause when the end of it’s always going to be the same.

Dick drops the subject and the relief that Slade feels  is immense enough that it’s close to gratitude.

“What was your son’s name?”

“Grant. We were going to name him Grant.” He takes another sip. “If we had another one, we were going to name him Joseph. Or Rose for a girl.”

“Those are good names.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

Slade doesn’t answer, looking up to eye the kid over his drink. Dick sees it, holding up his own glass in acknowledgement before knocking it back.

“Why are you here, kid,” Slade asks again. “We’re not friends, pretty far fucking from it last time I checked.”

“I’ve got my reasons,” he answers calmly.

“If you’re here to make your usual sales pitch about the virtues of heroism, I really will kill you. Whiskey or not.”

Dick shakes his head. “....is it so hard to believe I just didn’t think you should be alone?”

Slade thinks his skepticism is loud enough without him needing the words.

The look Dick gives him is steady in return. “Think what you want to, Slade, I know what grief feels like. It’s a poison. It’ll kill you unless you find a way to drain it.” 

Dick looks down at his own glass and Slade gets the feeling the kid’s no longer talking about just Slade. It’s still a tossup whether he means himself or the Bat.

Either way, Slade makes sure his next smirk is particularly pointed. “And, look at you. Tracking me all the way down here to try and save my tortured soul. Such a hero.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dick says with an eye roll, pouring himself another drink

Slade cocks his head. “Speaking of, don’t all the good little heroes have school right about now.”

Dick looks up, almost sheepish. “I’m ditching my classes. Don’t tell my brothers, I’m still trying to be a good influence.”

Slade snorts and takes a particularly long swig.

A good influence. As if a single one of his stupid, fucking team doesn’t think the fricking sun shines out of the kid’s ass.

Fuck. What is Slade even doing? Sitting in a run down apartment in the middle of a warzone drinking whiskey with a too trusting kid a decade younger and that he probably should have killed years ago.

But, then, it’s always been exceedingly difficult for him to do what he should---what’s the sane and logical thing--when it comes to Dick Grayson. And, one day--when he doesn’t have the burn of booze sitting in his gut and his chest doesn’t ache like he’s been shot--Slade’s going to take a hard look at why that is.

For now, he’ll just leave it like he usually does. The kid’s too interesting to die yet. 

Dick eyes his shot glass, contemplatively. “This whiskey’s way too overpriced, Slade. It’s practically aged vodka.”

Slade finishes his off steadily. “Shows you have little taste, Grayson.”

Dick laughs and slides the bottle over. “I brought another one anyway.”

....Far, far too interesting.

#atfo #my writing

[hereformcdonaldshonestly]

sorry if you're getting swamped but i was wondering if i could get a bnha romantic match up? i'd prefer a hero or villain (but if you feel really strongly a student would work that's fine too)

(sorry this is really long)

Positive traits: i think i'm pretty funny and do quips on the fly, i do pretty well academically without really trying, i see other perspectives well and act objectively, i'm creative, chill and easy to be around, non judgemental, people usually go to me for advice, jack of all trades kind of person, direct and honest, independent, learn things quickly

negative traits: i can be logical to a fault, rile people up on purpose cause i think it's funny (only to people i know well though), terrible at replying to texts, spend more time alone than what is probably normal lmao, can't ask for help, don't tell people my problems, can come off as cold by accident sometimes, procrastinator, terrible just with even just the concept of rejection and so don't take risks with possible romances

likes: writing, craft stuff (like making rugs and homemade paper for example), swearing, listening to music, night time, sleeping, day dreaming, angsty stories, meowing back and forth with my cat for five minutes

dislikes: mornings, really loud things, people who are too serious, obligatory niceties

what i look for in a partner: a good listener, funny as hell, confident (sometimes to the point of seeming cocky), can switch from being hyped to serious/quiet really easily, spontaneous, direct and honest, a good communicator, not clingy when separated

what i look for in a relationship: take time to understand each other until we don't need to talk to communicate, just spend time together even in silence, want to take care of each other when someone is doing bad (mainly looking after me sadly), a strong friendship is the foundation of it, casual affection, someone who can read me like a book

me stuff: female, bi with a leaning to men, intp, Aquarius

songs i relate to: "tokyo" by julien baker, "class of 2013" and "last words of a shooting star" by mitski

i'm 5'2" and look a bit like this (and usually look tired lmao), my hair goes to my waist, have freckles everywhere though to the point where on my face they cover each other so it has just become my skin tone

thank you so much!

For you I chose:

Keigo Tamaki!

Reason

First off, he's funny as hell! Second, he matches what you described what you wanted in a partner! He's confident plus he would be very supportive! But he will take time to understand everything and be there for you.

Why They Love You

He loves you for how funny you are! Let's be real, he probably values that along with honesty and loyalty, as his top wants for a relationship! Plus he adores how kind you are, he feels like he can be himself around you.

Date Headcanons

You convenience him to try rug making with you, he wasn't sure at first but decided to give it a go. You could hear him in the back going "I'll be the best at this shit" and some other stuff, let's just say it was a huge fail. His "rug" was all kind of wacky! But you both had a great time and even put the rug in the bathroom so everyone could see how beautiful it was.

You both wanted a night in, he suggested a movie night! You guys barely paid attention to the movie, because it went from his terrible flirting to laughing about it, to laughing about something last week, and so on. By the time the movie was over, he looked at you and asked you what was the movie about it. By the end of the night, you were both in tears from how hard you guys laughed, and honestly, it was just a fun night!

General Headcanons

At first your cat didn't like Keigo, maybe they got reminded of fried chicken when first meeting him, who knows. But, one morning you walked in to see Keigo meowing at your cat, yes he was crouched down in the floor, meowing at it. Your cat was swatting at his face, meowing back. Ever since then, they've been pretty good buddies!

Anytime he walks in and sees you reading or working on something, he'll lean down and kiss your cheek. That's his daily thing, he loves to see your face blush and then he'll always this crappy pick line that makes you and him both laugh. He'll do small things like that everyday, whether it's randomly hugging you, kissing you, holding your hand, etc, he makes sure you feel loved.

Songs That Remind Me of You Both

Love Story by Taylor Swift

Secret Love Song by Little Mix & Jason Derulo

I hope you have a great day!

#boko no hero academia matchup #boko no hero academia hcs #boko no hero academia #mha matchup #bnha matchup #my hero academia matchups #my hero academia matchup #fluff #anime matchup

[kookieskiwi]

Badboy!au with the quote "Yeah, well i shut everyone out. Don't take it personally." with a bit of angst pwease 🥺🥺 but a lot of fluff hihi i'm sorry i asked for a lot 🥺🥺🥺 i wub u ✨

(I love it when people ask for a lot because it gives me more to go off of ❤️ and I wuv you too!!) (I changed the I to we since I write poly stuff and no member was specified )

-

You had one of the most amazing personalities anyone had ever seen. You were always caring, you put others before yourself and you gave second chances to everyone; even those that didn’t deserve it. That character trait of yours always got you into situations that had you blaming yourself for stupidity and too much kindness. Prehaps it wasn’t stupidity but it was the fact you saw the good in everyone rather than focusing on their personas and negative traits.

Some people called you näive, others called you gullible, you’d been called just about everything since you began high school. It was normal; there would be people who hated you, loved you and those that took advantage of you. You were accepting to everyone, you helped tutor those who needed it and you gave up your free time and time to do your own work in order to guide those who asked for help through the phone in order to be discreet.

It wasn’t until you met the Bangtan boys that you realized just how much people relied on you for help. They first came to you a year ago when finals begun to ask for help which basically involved you suming up an entire years worth of material in a week. It wasn’t easy since you had your own to study for at the same time but it also counted as a review guide for yourself. Since then they’ve come to you in secret or you’d go over to their shared house to help one or all of them review a topic.

Over the past few months you and the infamous bad boys had grown close meaning what had previously been school related meetings became a friendship with meet-ups that didn’t involve school at all. They became some of the closest friends you had in a long time giving you a sense of connection you didn’t know you needed.

That was however until you overheard one of their conversations as you were on your way to your vehicle. “She’s too close, we let her in and allowed this to go on for too long.” It was Namjoon speaking as he informed the others of their mistake. “But hyung, she hasn’t done anything to make us question her intentions,” Jungkook defended you in your absence which you were grateful for. It physically pained you to hear what they were thinking of you. It was one of those moments where you could actually feel your heart tearing apart as tears welled in your eyes. “Exactly and we aren’t sticking around to find out what they are.” Yoongi chimed in with Namjoon, defending the man who wanted you out of the picture.

You stood there leaning lifelessly against the wall contemplating whether or not to make a run for your vehicle. That option seemed like the best one to choose until you were too late. Apparently they had finished up their conversation and were exiting the classroom only to be met with you; the person who had shown them nothing but compassion and helped them. The soul who was once positive now felt that fullest depth of betrayal you had ever felt before.

“Y/n-“

“No.” You snapped as you returned from your lifeless state to look through blurry eyes at the men who stood before you. “I will not let myself be spoken about behind my back by people who I’ve shown nothing but kindness towards. I have no ill intentions with anyone of you unless wanting to be friends is such a terrible thing. I’ve done NOTHING but be help you when you needed it, not to mention I was the only one who took you all seriously because of the face you put up. So no. Don’t explain because I heard everything you had to say.” You told them trying to hold your composure together until you got home. You would not show weakness now more than ever, sure the tears showed it pretty well but you wanted to scream and yell at their ignorance.

Without another word you walked out of the hallway and entered your car followed by a slam of the door shut before you exited the campus. On the way to the condo which your guardians bought so you had a safe place to stay while getting an education, you broke down completely. It hurt more than you thought it would, of course you were stupid to catch a slight case of feelings for seven different guys who happened to be dating each other (a secret you came you find out when you got closer to them, they made sure no one on the outside knew) but that didn’t stop your battered heart from skipping a beat every time they smiled or laughed.

When you did arrive home you went to unlock the door with shaky hands and after multiple times of missing the keyhole you finally unlocked it. Dropping your bags you shut and locked the door behind you, taking a second before sliding down it in utter distress.

-

The next day you skipped classes all together; something you rarely did unless you were ill even then, that was only because you didn’t want to get anyone else sick. You had a headache from crying all night, your nose was stuffy, eyes puffy and red and to sum it all up: you felt like shit.

You spent the day moping around at the loss of a friendship. When classes let out you weren’t expecting anything from the boys however you received a text message stating one simple thing.

Taehyungie: Come over please.

There were no emojis, no use of a nickname....nothing, which must’ve meant this was important. So, against your minds wishes your heart dragged you to their home with heavy feet. You looked horrible and felt it too, but here you were yet again, putting others before yourself.

You didn’t even have to knock before the door was flying open followed by both Jimin and Jungkook hugging you tightly as you just stood there too tired mentally to do anything back. You were confused and they could tell so they backed off allowing you inside. You were guided to the couch where you sat hugging the arm trying to be as far away from any of them.

“Y/n, please let us explain.” Jin began hoping for you to look up at any of them but you kept your tired eyes locked on the empty space in front of you. “We have a reputation we must keep up, we can’t seem weak or things will be different for all of us.” Hoseok stated in an easy tone trying to stay calm even though he had the urge to run up to you and hug you. “Letting people in isn’t weak, it’s called being human.” You argued in a monotone still not looking anyone in the eyes.

“Yeah, well we shut everyone out. Don’t take it personally.” Yoongi spoke defensively making you absentmindedly flinch at the harsh tone in his voice. “How am I not supposed to take it personally!? You have no reason to shut me out and I’ve given you every reason to let me in!” You begun standing up and finally looking at the men who wore shocked expressions at your tone. “I don’t know what any of you have been through but I promise you this isn’t the way to live your lives. Let me in, let me show you not everyone has bad intentions with you. Let ME be the one to change your mindset. Because damnit I’m tired of being thrown out when I do nothing but help.” Your voice wavered at the end of your sentence making you curse yourself.

“Let me in because I’ve shown everything I am to you.” You whispered as a single tear rolled down your cheek but you were quick to swipe it away. “Let me in because I love you all.”

“You what-“ Jimin gasped standing up in surprise as did the others. “I know- I know it’s stupid and you’ll probably think it’s a schoolgirl crush, b-but over the past few months when I’ve gotten to know you for you and not the bad boys everyone else knows you as...I fell. Fast and hard. Which is why I’ve been so upset over what you said because I KNOW you will be fine without me, I KNOW you can move on and shut people out like you do but I don’t want to be shut out like everyone else.” You explained giving up at wiping the tears which just kept falling at this point. It was hard admitting your feelings especially at this time but this was either the making or breaking point if everything so why not?

“If it wasn’t for you, we’d be so lost right now y/n.” Namjoon begun taking one step towards you as you remained still. “We’ve all been thinking about you a lot lately.” Yoongi stated from beside you where you didn’t know he was until then. “You are a wonderful person, never forget that.” Taehyung said making you think this was goodbye. “You deserve someone who values you.” Jin whispered softly behind you as more tears filled your eyes. This couldn’t be it, not goodbye. “Someone who will kiss away all of your pain and scars.” Jungkook said stepping forward as well. “You know the hardest part about finding someone you love but being apart even though you have six others? It’s the endless nights awake knowing that the missing piece that completes us is right in front of us but we are too afraid to take that leap of faith fearing that we’ll be rejected.” Jimin stated grasping onto Yoongi’s hand to squeeze it. “Y/n, we’ve made a complete fool of ourselves that past day because we aren’t the people who we want to be. We are so sorry little one, so sorry and no amount of verbal apologies will show it until our actions change.” Hoseok said motioning to the other men who were gazing at you with something you couldn’t identify.

Your mind was going a million miles an hour at this point. Why where they saying this? Surely they couldn’t mean you...could they?

“You deserve someone who will treat you with the most respect, give you all the love and happiness you deserve and protect your kind heart. If you’ll let us, we’d like to be those men.” Taehyung said grabbing your hands which had been fiddling with the hem of your sweater. You looked at them with the most innocent, pure eyes they had ever seen, you were in total shock at what they had asked. When it sunk it you chocked on a sob. This wasn’t goodbye, it wouldn’t be the end.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” You said in a mix of laughter and sobs before running into Taehyung’s chest to wrap your arms around him tightly. The others followed your suit as you all began to express the feelings you had kept up for so long.

-

“‘Us’ I like the sound of that, don’t you?” You said as you laid cuddled into Yoongi’s chest while everyone was spread amongst the couches. You weren’t aware of what had slipped off your tongue until Yoongi was putting his hand over his heart saying ‘Ahh too cute’ while squeezing his eyes closed.

“I love the sound of us.”

-

As always..any further ideas or chapters you want from a Drabble can be requested and I’ll more than happily do them! Part 2 or another Drabble with a quote relating to this one if requested!! With bunches of love -Kiwi (KookiesKiwi)

#bangtan #bts au #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #thank you anon #anon #anon ask #anonymous #anon request #anons wanted #soft drabble #drabble requests #drabble #badboy #badboy!au

[huadie]

anchor liveblog post.

the curse of prophecy: all of my high tier kins channel tmg.

" somebody’s gonna get hurt / i hope it’s not me / but i suspect it’s going to have to be.

---

episodes 1-3: the general doesn't deserve the sympathy he gets. i'm not excusing a woman who killed happy girls on their wedding days, but i do think he owed her that closure. sending his son just pits the burden onto someone who wasn't involved. he should look his failures and mistakes in the eyes. if you can't count on a god to do that, who can you expect it of? it's disgusting. / i feel so tired and sorry for the girl who died saving a man who hated her and hurt her friend. i don't think kind people should be on the hook for ignorance and spite so willingly. her life for his was an unfair trade. / He's Cute. and wildly unexpectedly gentle considering the whole "demon" thing. / b tells me i'll have kin ptsd about the face disorder, but right now it's just heartbreaking. nobody deserves to live with that kind of fear. nobody deserves to live with that kind of pain. / b also implies someone in heaven is doing it to them for fun and i just want to say right now that i'm going to pull his dick off thru his mouth. that's a tier of evil that should have your blood start boiling inside you in an attempt to disinfect it. that was a child. that was just a scared little boy. not a prop or a toy or a plot device. a child. / i like the baby generals. they are so nineteen but it's nice to see it. i know anime leans on comedy skits a lot, but they can carry it off. they're charming. / heaven looks a bit shit. all of that meditation and betterment and it just makes you a spineless politician with the power to airbend? christ on a bike.

---

episode 4-5: initial reactions. watching him swing between fuck-me eyes and genuine emotional distress at no signal i can see is a lot. he's a good painter. i think i get the gist of where he's coming from but it feels insane to me. the twitch duels were cute. he clearly cares a lot more than he enjoys devilry so it's insane to me that he's that strong. general jr destroys me. imagine being so pompous and negligent you'd give your child your name. has he ever been allowed to be his own person? meow meow etc. the face disease is horrific. he was just a kid. he was so scared and in pain. i like the temple. i like that it's raggedy and messy. maybe it should be over-repaired, so people in need can take from it? it's definitely not very reverant, but. gods should serve their people. quotes all of small gods here etc. they should want to serve their people. they should be happy to see their temples valued below human life. it would be nice to live in a ghibli film forever, and read books and cook warm food and paint.

episodes ???. thoughts said out loud. gods own their people. thousands, one, here and now you are alive. gods are owned by their people. it's a cage. it's the most beautiful cage possible. to feed starving people from your hands. the bread and the fishes cut out of you. to give and give and give, to be asked for things you have never had and give them next. each prayer should strip you to the bone. can you imagine? to be so trusted, so cared for, so beloved, so followed, to have so much given to you freely and happily. a live lived to save others is the only beautiful thing. the only beautiful thing! a god should be owned by each of their believers individually. selfishly and shallowly and demandingly. like a child needs you. the power to put a fish back in the water is a blessing so heavy thinking about being created for it should make you wail. to be - for people, for the birds and the trees and the fish too, but for the people. it should break your heart. you should never let it become monotone. sunlight into wine.

on love: i trust b. i trust b. to love him here like this and love him in this skin and then find him again in a book and on a screen and fall in love with him there too, to watch myself fall in love with him too. nobody has ever earned what he freely gives. i want to give it back. oxygen to dioxide, i want to find all the places he stands and pour it back into him. i want to show him how beautiful he is. to love someone like that is a miracle and i want to pull it apart. i want to make him familiar with me and bored of me, i want him to wake up each morning taking me for granted, i want him to be so safe and secure in his place in my heart that it stops being a gift. that it wears down and falls apart. the velveteen rabbit. i want to hold him in my hands like a bubble that hasn't popped and i want to use him like the doorway to a world where even if i had to hurt and be hurt and fall and learn to grow, i can come home at the end of it. my growth can mean something, my stronger back can bear more weight, my lessons can be shared. i want it to mean something. i want to have faith in myself again. in the resurrected kingdom of his arms i can find it - build it. i can come home. it can have turned to gold while i did not see it. it can have worth, i can have worth, i can bend and not break. i can have a claim on things without losing them, without it cursing them. just him. i'm not greedy, i'm not selfish, so please - just him.

episode 6: there's something that hurts about letting other people see what you'll tolerate. what you'll do. the places in your life where you have pathetic history and where you are attempting to be someone who only existed today grinding against one another. i know he knows. i know it isn't a stolen moment, a chance to decide how i exist to someone before they decide it for me. i sleep beneath that painting and whenever i wake up in the night i feel him pretend that he is asleep. i know. i know. but it could have - it could have been. it could have been a lie that i got to play with. a tiny self indulgence. aren't you tired of stars? aren't you tired of being the tree that cannot bend in a storm? of holding yourself down? everyone else does it so easily. everyone else lets go. everyone else knows how. if i can't learn then i want to pretend. i want to be unwanted, and - and meet people. by chance, just chance, and like them and have them like me. no promises i made before i learned i couldn't keep them. just... something smaller. i talked about multiverse theory. how it isn't in the coin flip, but the atoms of the coin. how in one dot you can know everything. every grain of sand in a desert. i cannot survive existing with people thinking of me. not well and not poorly. i want to disappear into it. maybe nobody else is obligated to finish the work. maybe their contributions are a blessing. but i can't... learn how to let it go. it's all i have left in me that i recognize, somedays, as it gathers dust and makes me sick to breathe around. what am i if i am not that? i want to know. i'm scared to know. i will never be allowed to find out.

on being loved: god. it is too much. i don't hate it. it doesn't disgust me. but i feel like a plate being washed in every inch of the sea before i am allowed to see dry land again. i feel like i won't survive it if i look at it because it is a mosque decorated in mirrors, because it is mathematically perfect, because it holds the tiny miracles of angles and existence and light on par with the miracles of human heart and existence, because to make at all is to change the world for the first time, because i do not want to see what it reflects. i do not want to see it. i would be better if it lied to itself, if it was delusional and selfish and obsessed with smoke tricks. if it saw silk and paint and stopped looking. i don't want to know what i look like with my hair down, with my face clean, with my feet dirty, with my hands raw - i don't want to see what it sees to know that it loves there too. i don't want to follow it. i don't know how to make it stop. how could i - how could anyone be held accountable for this? to this? to prayers and plans and a kindness that changes the world in every grain of sand it has and again the next second, how could anything be worth this? and if it could - it couldn't be me. not a collection of stupid wishes and failures and betrayals-by-failure. not me with my hair down. silk could be worth this.

on being loved now that it isn't the middle of the night, and my body isn't betraying us both, and i can remember that there are an infinite number of steps between 0 and 1: but really, it's just ink. just paper. if it's - if he. if it's everything. if it's everything. then it can be one thing. it can be this thing. it can be the blindness. it can be me with my own hands over my own eyes like a shutterbox pretending i don't know how to see myself and admit that the pea beneath my mattress only hurts me - that it's small, to him, that it isn't sharp, that it's a phantom limb i can't stop being tormented by and only ever that. can that be enough to start? can i let it? it's atoms again. grains of sand. if he can love this, he can love everything. if i can see this, the rest falls away. there are more universes where we are kissing than every atom from the start to the end of time. that's how it works. i'm going in circles. you don't mind, do you? i'm writing this for you. you're the only person reading this. i don't know why i'm being impersonal about you when i'm being possessive about me. it won't protect me. it won't make it less terrifying to think of, and it won't make it less painful for you to read. i know you're already mad at yourself for being too much. for making me think that it's too much. you're kind to me like that, even when things are my fault. but if we can sit here together, and i can know that you know i can't imagine being loved, and that that - that moment, that dot, me unable to count to the place where numbers end - is something you love too. if i can just see this one moment, and not doubt it or question it or be afraid of it. it can be enough. because you know how hard i'm working to get to even this first step. you know how hard i'm working. you know how scared i am. you know it isn't you. you'll wait for me, with me, and you won't hate me for it. you promised.

on being forgiven: i don't know how to do it for myself. i don't know how to blame people for what they do to me unless it's the most extreme circumstance. i forgive too much that shouldn't be and hold ignorance and spite against others long past when it's fair. i handwave any scar someone gave me while they were suffering and never let go of what they do to others. i don't know what makes it different when it's me. i guess i know how to forgive myself for being scared and lost and for making bad decisions under the influence of... whatever... but not lazy cruelty. not letting something bad happen because i felt like it. all i do now is watch. all i do is let things slide past me again and again and again and do nothing to help and it can't matter that my heart breaks about it when theirs don't if none of us get up, and i remind myself that small steps do more than a single leap that uses me up but it's so hard to believe that here and now in the world where i could die if i tried again and harder still to comprehend in a world where 800 years of lives were made and suffered through and lost and i did nothing that matters to help. maybe all of the horrible backstory parts you're so scared of me seeing will be ones where i could do something, where i could climb up and let everyone take a raw bite out of me and go without starving for just one day, and then this won't cut me up inside like i swallowed a hedgehog. some days i am the hedgehog. trapped inside me, unable to stop being something that cuts to have there, unable to get away. i don't know how you can forgive me. i don't even know if you know what i need forgiving for. if i apologize for saving your life - for coming back to you again and again and again and being so selfish and. i don't know. for being me, while you try to love me, instead of being the person i can't forgive myself for not being, who deserves to be loved by you like this. but you'll forgive me. how do you do it? how do you stand it? i'm jealous of you. of how easy your heart warms up. of how kind you are.

kosmi 1-6 rewatch: i dislike pei su less now that i can see him as a person with a horrific job and less as a vehicle for the lies i know pei ming told about every woman he ever used and threw away. "i burned the scroll and won the war on my own" yeah right. gotta get that out first before i start collecting my thoughts. um.

one: the ascention, the earthquakes, (all that fuss for a scrap god. you told me the order it went in, when i asked, and i still think it's funny in a way that validates what i've been saying for something only the most in-need ask for help with to rattle the bells from warlord's palaces. they aren't ignorable. more than - more than anything else, anything before, i can be proud of this. i can be proud of myself for this.) i hate the way people look at you like you're infected with something because they can't play pretend that their inaction isn't malice any more. the bets and jokes and sneers. what have you done, lately? what help have you given? what good are you? and then there's me: starting as ever in unfixable debt, anchoring desperately to simple kindnesses, too tired to do more than smile. it's not worth it. it's never worth it. (being loved and losing it is worse than never knowing. being able to love yourself and losing it is worse than that.) the way that heaven sits unfixable and unchanging and incompetent. i'm proud of them for making something of their futures. i am. i don't begrudge them anything. i trust their character and i trust them to try to do the right thing for the people. i'm glad they didn't fight hua cheng. the kids are sweet. they're little carbon copies of their generals. it's sweet. it's kind. i like how... okay, they're mean and short tempered and fight like cats in a bag, but it's just the way you are at that age. it's not personal. it's easier to stand. i know there's gender coding tm in the novel, but i hate man-in-a-dress gags that point out that the man looks bad in a dress. i thought it was fine.

one point five: ok. i'll talk about it. the butterflies on the dress, the gentle music, the way our colours matched, the way your hand felt in mine. the sound of rain. i didn't know people could be so gentle. i didn't know they knew how. i think it was better for my health, before, when i assumed the best i ever saw was the best people were capable of. worse for me, though, to believe that. i'd forgotten what it was like to see myself in someone else's eyes as welcome.

zero point five: flashback sequence goes here. of course i remember what it was like to be loved, and work towards a clear goal that helped people. of course i remember what it was like to have a home that loved me back. he looked so scared as he fell. he looked terrified. i don't... i'm not good. at hating people. when i know everyone is driven to where they arrive in some degree or other. but that - whatever the reason they think they had, it isn't enough. it couldn't ever be enough. i hate seeing the human face disease. i hate how scared they are. how obviously in pain they are. i know they can't have survived. but i wish they could. i would give anything if they could. i would give anything up for it. have i talked about responsibility enough that this isn't a surprise yet? nobody should be that scared. nobody should suffer who hasn't chosen it to protect others. nobody should have to choose it, either, but if heaven has already failed you -

two: i hate that bald man. i hate watching that poor freckled girl throw herself on him again and again to save him just because he's human, while he takes every turn to re-learn hate and jealousy and hurt others. when he talks to his friends he almost humanizes himself, and i hope the time he spends as a crab fixes the rest. i truly do. but god i hate to see it. i hate being unable to do anything, because she chose it, because she knows him more than me, because her heart is kind enough to reach out to him even as it betrays and abandons the people in-need who can only go to her for help. you have to triage need. a life lived with the intent to harm others cannot come before a life lived with the intent to help, or to simply survive. anyway. the concern i get shown whenever i talk about the butterfly ghost is so charming.

three: i hate pei ming. his story is shallow and self-praising, his jilted lover competent and proud before he cured her of that with a kiss. i don't believe she broke her legs. i don't believe he passed over the chance to shortcut his way into glory. am i supposed to believe women just act like that? they just break their own knees for attention? she destroyed herself for him and he can't even pretend to care. not even at the end. not even to lie, and let her move on. so, what? thirteen girls die terrified and alone on the happiest day of their lives (- and we know it was happy for them, we know they went smiling up the path, we know they were excited) because he didn't have the stamnia to apologise to one person he hurt? i hate him. i hate his name, i hate his family, i hate his legacy of butchers, i hate his cowardice in sending pei su to grind out his cover story and then hide his mistakes where he doesn't have to look. i hate him. / i feel. so bad for that boy. he was so scared. do you know how scared you have to be to take scissors to yourself? i do. i have, literally, in the last year, actually. and that was... one cut. to avoid the risk of infection. sleeping on a wound that screams at you? he was a child. he was just a child. i let him down. there's no excuse. he needed reassurance. he needed protecting. i let him down.

four: i like that shrine. i like making it, owning it, doing something meaningful. i think a shrine for scrap should be made of more materials than it needs. i think it should be a place to sleep, always, and a place to eat, and you should be able to strip the roof if you need to. i don't care about what is proper, or respectful. respect the god of scavenger birds by surviving at any cost. by using what is useful. by taking what is free. i can build it again. if i know - if i can believe one good thing about myself, it's that i can build it again. as many times as it takes. i won't wear out. i won't give up. i can build it again. and how lucky, this time, to have help. there are so many things i can't do, even now. i need to learn. i never even thought about it until i saw that door. too long alone in my own head. too many years spent without it feeling worth the effort when a band-aid would hold.

four point five: again, ok, fine. i'll talk about it. you're beautiful. your eyes are like starlight, your smile is the warmest thing i've ever seen, your hands should be buried in an instrument, your painting is beautiful, your laugh is endearing - what do you want from me, here? of course i was looking. it's different to look now with your hand in mine than it was, then, to look just to look. to count threads just to count. to run my fingers through your hair and across your palm just to touch something. of course i knew. who wouldn't know you? who couldn't tell? but then, what was i going to do? know it? say it? ask things? better to be stupid, and naive, and find out what knife is waiting for me when it happens. i'm tired of speeding through the sweet moments to get to the next blade. i'm tired of being pushed from place to place. i'm tired of being alone. wasn't it fun? didn't we have fun? didn't you like talking together and cooking together and waking up in the morning in an empty shrine with the promise of another day to fill it? do i have to scream and shout and be suspicious and accuse you of - what! of holding my hand? of helping me? of being the exact same as everyone in heaven still deigning to look at me and thinking of me only as a tool to an end in a plan that will hurt people who did nothing wrong but pray? what can the harvest hope for if not the care of the reaper man? if it's - it always hurts. it always hurts. if it's going to hurt. why shouldn't it be kind first? why shouldn't i play stupid and keep you close and be usable without a heart left in me to break? why shouldn't i enjoy it for what it is, if it's all a lie? better me than someone who would be hurt by it. you're smart, and easy to talk to, and you're helping. you can't unbuild that door. unsweep the entryway. you can't undo the physical evidence of when you were kind. that's enough. that's all i can ever ask of people.

four point now: yes i know you wouldn't, now, i know you now, i don't need to gamble. i know you'd build a thousand doors. i know there's no trick. i know that it's safe. i know that i could have accused you and screamed and bit you and nothing would have made a difference and you still would have been kind. i know. i promise i know. i just... have to say where it was before. i have to tell you how important that kindness was, and how much i was willing to be kind to my own self to keep it near me. you understand what i mean, right? the tiny unforgivable act of making a mistake that could only hurt me? i know, i know. cocky to assume it would just be me hurt. but - if i was right to hope for nothing, i would make sure of that. i would make sure of it. i would do what i needed to to make sure only i was hurt for my selfishness.

five: i hate that we built a shrine and the next day something like that waltzed in. now we have to clean again. (i said in the stream, how funny it was to run that only survivor scam, how quickly it falls apart if you've ever seen real suffering, if you know what a survival rate is.) the rest i don't remember. i like working as a team. i like how much the kids hate you. they can tell too. i don't know what they see. but they worry about me. why do they worry so much? do their generals have something invested in me? are they just trying to do what they can now, and my caring for them isn't a one-way road? do you look that sketchy?

six: talking about the plot? in a sandstorm? no. you should keep my hat on. you look so sweet and cute and shy in it. i love the way you crumple when you aren't at the wheel, when an interaction happens without your instigation. maybe i'm not the only one bad at taking kindness. maybe i should offer it to you more often. you smell nice. like hot clay and silk. it's subtle. is that a ghost king thing, or is it just you? i like it. i can't imagine what i smell like. i hope... lillies and cotton. something soft. i'll ask you one day. i'm not surprised you were the most solid thing in a storm. i won't be surprised if you keep being that. i should have let you catch me. i should have dragged you with me. are you immune to it? could you stop it? would you pretend to be as useless and helpless as i am? i want to keep putting you in situations in disguise just to see what you do. it's fun! it probably shouldn't be, and i'm sure i'm setting myself up for a public shriving the more it becomes obvious who you are and how much i depend on you, but. i don't care. if i suffer for it, so what? what difference will that make? what could one more condemnation possibly do?

six point five: i like seeing sqx. i still read that as squeeks. i like seeing squeeks. i like sharing this with teddy. i like knowing that the way we are together can translate to here. i like how kind he is to me, and how funny, and sweet. i want to see him be happy. i want to see him be happy even though i know enough to infer it won't last. i know you love me with the power of a thousand angry wasp queens but it's nice to just sit next to him and joke with him and pretend for a little bit that i got to do this all the time. that i spent all my years drinking honey and rosewater and laughing with him, that things were as kind and easy as they're allowed to be. it's cute when i say he has a moral code and he gets offended. it's cute when i say he's a bitch and he gets offended. i like the way it makes all three of us laugh. i like seeing a place in my heaven where you could be. i don't want you to give up what you built. you built it because you had to. but when i'm sitting with my head on his shoulder, it's a window to that place where heaven exists to help people, where none of us ever had to learn what misery really was.

what power obliges from you: action. movement, always. there is no down time, no sleep, no rest, no running. if you seek people out to rule them - and that is what ascention is, seeking to rule, to tie your survival to your treatment of them - then you cannot do it with force and with ignorance and with the desire to coast. like. i'm not stupid. i know men do. for centuries and centuries with no repercussions, until the king on the rope for his people is as far related to the man who razed their lands as i am, (but inheriting evil is a choice too). i know how easy it is to punish and hurt and demand. how easy it is to hold people for ransom. but that isn't... that isn't power. that isn't kinghood or godhood or divine right. it's worthless. it's the other end of a sword. it kills you both to use. there's no light left in the world, no wonder, no chance to be saved by others so long as you are the thing that keeps you both drowning. you should wake up in the middle of the night for them without being asked. you should bleed for them without being asked. you should be ready to die for them without them ever knowing. even at their worst. at their most entitled, afraid, undignified, ignorant - if they are those things, the blame falls on you. if you are voted in democratically or born to the monarchy and not hanged in the streets it is the same either way: the people have chosen, they are asking you for something, and if you live in their gold and silk and sing their songs instead of smashing your own head in with a rock then you have agreed to the terms. why would anyone be unwilling to do that? afraid to do that? if you can do even a little bit more than someone else they are owed half of the excess. you cannot live in the world alone. you must not live in the world alone. ask the people above you to bleed for you and the people below you for nothing. there is no hierarchy beyond "i can help you" and "please help me" and there is no meaning beyond it either. every day it is hard to remember this but you have to, both parts, without losing either. why wouldn't anyone want this? what else is there to strive for but to better help others, to be someone with an abundance to share, to be used like that for the survival of everyone. isn't that happiness? to be as connected to everyone around you as a river is? to give water and fruit and blessings and promises and safety and shelter? you can seek power without understanding that it is only deeper service, but you will never do anything worthwhile with it. the gold will rot with your corpse. we find immortality in one another, and the celebration of giving more.

???: i saw a video of someone opening their back gate onto a meadow of the same single flower. it was beautiful. that's what it feels like when i catch you looking at me. we could grow flowers, couldn't we? we could plan a garden? i don't want to see myself fall and fail twice at least, or fight a war, without something kind at the end. i want you to tell me there's a way to still be like this - repairing doors, eating small meals, sleeping in warm air - after all of that is done. i want to build something selfish and self-sufficient together. i know we already are. in the things we talk about the jokes we make at my own expense whenever further plot implies at me. and in how excited i was to find out that the word for butterfly was this one. but i want to make things with our hands again.

episode 7: well. i'm glad it was me.

episode 7 (a day later): i'm still glad it was me. i'm proud of the kids for how brave they are, proud of that general for saving lives every time - and god, it was so funny sitting there in a circle of contempt for him, touching a gravestone people had hand cut and hauled up the mountain and carefully ingraved with their thanks, thinking about how loved and how much gratitude he must have died surrounded by. thank you for making them treat it with respect. thank you. he did his best. i'm almost jealous of it. imagine how nice it would be to help people, and have them see that you helped them, and be happy about it, and think kindly of you. i'm glad that you understood how important his actions were. i feel less alone when you're beside me on matters like that. anyway - i'm glad it was me. you're so bad at letting people care for you. i can tell you've been alone with only yourself to depend on for a long time. but your heart is so soft, you know? you don't even know it. you deserve to be protected. to be with people who want to protect you. it doesn't matter if you could have caught it in time, or survived a bite if you didn't - you should be able to think of yourself as precious to others. to me. i don't want to see you hurt. i don't ever want to take your hard-won strengths for granted. on the last day of earth, i want to move between you and danger as quickly and without apology as i did then. you're so easy to care for. do you know? and i'll be okay. i know you blame yourself for it because you said, because you're never gentle with yourself the way you are with me. but if you hadn't been there, i'm sure i would have stepped between someone else and that bite. i'm sure i would have forgotten again to grab the stinger i was just warning everyone about. you know what would change? if you hadn't been there, if you'd been a bit faster with your own defense, "if" "if" "if" - ? i wouldn't know there was a cure. i wouldn't know where to look for it, or be able to depend on someone helping me find it. that's the difference you made by being there. that's the only influence you had on me that day. you keep giving me the chance to survive my own mistakes. thank you. i can't promise we won't end up here again. i can't promise i won't keep trying to protect you. all i can do is hope that you know i don't mean it as a slight on your capabilities (it isn't! i just care about you. even the strongest man alive should be loved by people who want to shield him from danger) and that you don't get tired of me being so reckless.

#anchor.

[scientifically-strange]

As another prompt request could I get Danny having to separate Tara from Bell after figuring out that Bell is changing her personality. Maybe with a little help from Tony Stark with the sentence prompt of "If I die I'm haunting you first" said by Tara.

“Look, I know that you really want to stay with Tara, but it’s not safe to be out of the Ghost Zone for long periods of time.”

“But you’re not going back.”

Danny looked Bell, tired. She was attached at the hip to her friend Tara, who had rescued her from the Guys in White, which Danny had had plenty of experience with. But Bell spent literally all of her time with Tara. She was a fully fledged ghost, she needed the Zone to stay, for lack of a better word, alive.

“I’m half human,” he told her. “I can survive out here with no problem. But you can’t.”

Something was oddly weird about this conversation. Usually, when Danny ordered other ghosts to go back to the Zone, he was met with tension at best, and a battle at worst. But this conversation was oddly calm. Neither of them raised their voices at each other, and neither of them had the slightest bit of tension. It was just a calm, factual conversation. He really hoped he was winning.

“I can come with you if you want,” he offered, but she shook her head.

“No, you’re right. I need to go to the ghost Zone and recharge. But thank you for offering.”

Danny nodded, and they all watched as Bell unwrapped her tail from Tara’s leg, opened a portal, and headed to the Ghost Zone.

“Well, that’s a fucking bummer,” Tara said. Danny looked at her, wide-eyed. He had never known Tara to be so...outgoing. She was kind of shy, quiet, and calm, but here she seemed almost aggressive.

“Yeah, but she needs it,” Danny told her as she crossed her arms.

It was like a flip had switched in her head. When she’s with Bell, she’s fine. She’s calm, kind, a little shy, and due to her closed off nature, Danny hasn’t really gotten to know her all that well.

But now, her shoulders are squared, and she’s cursing like a sailor, which is something she doesn’t typically do. In fact, up until a couple seconds ago, Danny had never heard her curse.

“Wow,” Tony said, walking up. “Someone is a little firecracker today. Where’s Beauty?”

“Up you ass,” Tara said.

“Jesus, what’s got you all pissed off?”

“These stupid questions you keep asking,” she fired back.

“Bell had to go back to the Zone so she could recharge. She can only stay out of it for so long,” Danny answered. Tony nodded, taking a sup of his coffee.

“I wonder what it would be like if I was a ghost. Like, I could haunt anybody. That would be pretty fun.”

“If I die I’m haunting you first,” Tara told him.

“Haunting people gets pretty boring after a while,” Danny told him. “When everybody has the same reaction the hilarity of it loses its value.”

“That makes sense. So when is she gonna come back?”

“It shouldn’t e more than a few days,” Tara answered.

“Nice. Well, then, who wants to go get pizza?”

----

The next few days were more or less like that. Tara was snarky, and really didn’t care about anything anyone had to say. She was brash, reckless, and didn’t give a shit about what anybody thought. It was kind of cool at first; she was more outgoing and cracked more jokes than usual. She was really funny, but because she hardly said anything they never knew.

When Bell came back, it was a good day for everybody. All the stresses that anybody had seemed to quiet down. That was the really cool thing about her. Just her presence made everything a little bit better.

She looked better, too. Her hair was a little shinier, her skin a little bit greener, and overall seemed more relaxed. She said hi to everybody before flying over to Tara and wrapping her tail around her leg.

“I missed you,” Tara said, smiling. Her voice was the softest it had been in days, and her whole demeanor seemed to change. It was like that flip in her head had switched again, and her personality was back to before. Before Bell went to the Zone.

“Hey, Bell,” Danny said. “Can you go to the other room real quick? I just want to test something out.”

Bell nodded, and floated to the floor below.

“Hey, what did you tell her to leave for?” Tara said angrily. “She just got back!”

“Don’t you see?” Danny asked. “Dude, your personality changes depending on whether or not she’s here. When she’s here, you’re calm and shy and when she’s not your reckless and a potty mouth.”

“That is not true.”

Danny didn’t say anything. Instead, he sunk through the floor and called Bell back.

“Just, pay attention,” he said.

Bell flew back over to Tara and again, wrapped her tail around her leg. Tara’s persona changed back to normal once more, and Danny gestured to her, looking at the rest of the group.

“See?” he asked. “Bell has a calming effect.”

“I think Danny’s right,” Steve said. “I don’t feel so stressed out anymore. Just...Calm.”

“It’s not to far of a stretch,” Danny said. “Bell, this could be a power of yours that you just didn’t know about. You have this effect on everybody, that can’t be a coincidence.”

“That’s interesting,” Bell said. “I always thought that I just had standard ghost abilities, but to find out that I have one that I’ve been using without even knowing is pretty cool, too.”

“I do feel better when Bell is around,” Tara admitted. She looked at the ground, unable to meet anybody’s eyes. “Sorry if I was a jerk these past couple of days,” she said.

“No worried. You should tell jokes more often,” Tony said. “Because you’re fucking hilarious.”

Tara smiled. “Do you really wanna hear one?”

“Yes,” Tony replied.

“Well, for one, that outfit,” she said, pointing to Tony. Danny couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped his mouth. “For two, that hair.”

Now everybody was laughing. The jokes were blunt and the look on Tony’s face was hilarious. Danny couldn’t believe it.

He figured, since Tara knew now about her personalities with and without Bell, there would be a happy medium between the two. This was the old Tara showing her dry humor with them, and it was worth every side splitting experience.

Tony cleared his throat, and pretended like the jokes didn’t just catch him off guard.

“Whatever, glad you’re back.”

The rest of them laughed even harder than before

[bluesnsuch]

Bears and Bees: A love story without an ending.

Part 2

“If you have someone you think is the one, take them and travel around the world. Buy a plane ticket for the two of you to travel all over the world, to places that are hard to reach and hard to get out of. And when you land at JFK and you're still in love with that person, get married.”

- Bill Murray

For Belen, the star that guided me so far.

When I saw her again, I was a little out of my element. Gone were my snowy hills and chilly winds, instead greeted by hot sun year round and miles of desert. She mentioned when she first flew over to me, it was a surreal experience because all of a sudden in the horizon she could see trees and green as far as the eye could see, just as well I saw dirt and flatland on my way to her. Truly two different spots, it really is an oddity that we had so much between each other we could relate to. Kindred spirits know no bounds I suppose.

So there I was finally, in a hot airport with her mother photographing a moment of pure bliss, and from there a vacation began. I got to spend my time with my beloved in her every day life, making lazy days around the house mean something and enjoying every sight she had to show me. I recall some nice bonding over all the different types of food, sharing our meals was always a special time. I always thought she was stunning, to even with plum sauce on her face. Without disclosing too much however, things couldn't be great forever.

Suddenly, we were thrust into a situation where we were without a place to stay, and at that moment in time, without a plan. The one thing we had however, was each other, it was all like some distant dream, that's not to say it was an optimal experience, however it was so otherworldly. The experience was something I thought I would never have to go through. I still remember the sunny weather, and the constant walking, we didn't eat, didn't stop unless we had to, and the only thing to keep us calm was the idea of getting somewhere better together. In that moment in time, I think the only thing I could count on was her, and the only thing she could count on was me.

In that period of time when we were on the road, we were shown the deepest extent of human kindness. Hotels took pity on us and gave us discounted rates that we would not be allowed to get otherwise, and perhaps even greater; a complete stranger took us in and gave us a ride and food and even a place to stay free of charge. She was the greatest help to us, ever second being under her wing is burned into my brain, I still remember when me and my Bee cried in front of her being overwhelmed with how charitable she was being. Her name was Diana, I remember that she drove us to different shops to try and sell my Bee's things, they had value and couldn't simply toss them in the trash. She had a mother in a facility since she was Ill, we went to visit her and in that moment I remember how dark it was, her elderly mother's quiet voice and how even sweeter she was to her. My Bee was always very empathetic to situations like this, having lost her grandfather years ago. I felt her compassionate heart, it always hurt me to see her sad like that, she always made me more aware of the feelings of others. The last we saw of Diana was on a hot morning, we took our bags, My bee went in for one last shift of work and I waited for us to make our next move.

What a cruel situation for her, I took the burden of action, but she lost so much. How do you explain to work "I have nowhere to go and need to run away?" How do you give up the idea of a continuing education, everything you tried to build? She was sweet, nuturing, but also strong. Without doubt, I fell in love with a badass. One truth is certain though, even badasses need support, and if that's all I could do, then I was going to do it.

I recall taking one long Uber ride to San Diego, we thought maybe we could grab some plane tickets and head on over home. Get some rest and plan for the future. On the way, we met a kind driver, he cut our fare very early after talking to us. He listened to all of Bee's problems and worries and did nothing but reassure her. This man felt just like what we needed, his name was Jose, and his past was as colorful as our current adventure. It's funny, when I think back I can't help but smile at how much these people put on the line and did for us. Jose bought us some food and left us at the airport, it was a sad goodbye, like all of the ones we had to say, but he assured us that our youth was something we could use to get through our lives without worries. Any sort of troubles we faced or bad things we did, would fade with time. At least we had each other, Jose knew his shit.

Despite the high we felt, trouble found us. Turns out buying tickets at a counter isn't something you can do easily do like we thought. Our plan came apart, and it was most disheartening to talk to employees at the counter with Bee coming to tears, while they barely pay attention and talk about their weekends with each other. The information desk employee in the center of the airport was much more compassionate. She walked all around the airport, and held authority and confidence when we were so weak. It was late at night, we were tired, Bee was exasperated and had no idea what to do. Worse yet, it was her birthday and the best she got was Taco Bell in a shady motel with friends on the tv.

The next morning, we made our way to town where no one spoke English, but luckily I spoke their language. We were scared, alone, and unsure. All I could tell Bee was that we'd be okay, in a way, I wanted to believe it too. From there, we embarked on a roadtrip lasting over day, I believe it was around 36 hours. We saw so much of the country, just me and Bee, travelling the west coast sitting next to each other around people we've never met before. It was a new experience for sure, but like any new experience, it was made easier by having each other. It's strange, we became so familiar with everyone on this long trip, I remember at one point at a station stop, the other passengers made sure we were there too, holding up the bus for us. It's almost so foreign to remember a time when people were so nice, but we slowly gained more hope the more we went. The end of the trip was near once we got more north, it started getting colder and different flora and fauna were in our eyes. It's strange, when we left our first stop the bus was so packed, and by the time we reached our final destination we were no longer in the hot sun, it was the quiet echoes of night, the moon guiding our way, and we stepped off into a station with no one in it. When I got out the station, I half expected my family not to show up to give us a ride home, but thank god, fate came through and we were in the company of good people. Not every story ends with riding off in the night, for that one moment we thought we were home free. We had no idea was coming our way, we weren't nearly done working for the future, in fact, things were about to get a lot harder. The trip changed us, hardened us, maybe we needed that for the coming challenges we faced. For what it's worth though, I'm glad that we had one moment to believe, it was going to be okay.

#writing #romance #love #heartbreak #travel #bears and bees

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #19: Wishbone (2000)

Hey, is anyone still alive out there? I hope so.

Coming off of last year was a disaster, and well, we didn't enter 2021 on the highest of notes. I guess you could say I've been burned out and not having a ton of motivation to do a lot, even with how much I've been grinding on Letterboxd over the past few months. I think I'm ready to come back, and since there's a storm is brewing outside, let's make today a movie night...and boy, do I have a treat for you.

I think I've made it kind of apparent that I have a weakness for terrible, low-budget, trash fires. There's something oddly charming about them where they always find a way to lure me in, and given the scene on Letterboxd, there's a bunch of SOV masochists out there waiting to get their next fix. While digging around for material to cross off my lists on titles to find and add, I was reminded of a terrible, low-budget film that was shot in my hometown over 20 years ago. I'm full of fear for what's to come, and you should be too.

________________________________________

Wishbone is a 2000 horror film directed by Timothy Gaer and co-created by Michael Fasciana, centering on a woman named Laurie who receives an unusual artifact from her eccentric aunt she acquired from a pawn dealer that causes those around her to disappear when they make wishes on it. Hmm, seems simple enough. Let's what we're in for, and I'm absolutely not ready because the IMDb page says this shit is over two hours long, despite a version on Youtube having it just a bit over 90 minutes. Let us pray.

Wishbone in One Gif:

This acting is might be the death of me, but I'm not sure what's going to be the catalyst that causes me to fall down the stairs and break my neck: the sound quality, the weird editing, or the music...oh, god what the fuck is the music doing? So much noise, noise noise!

Okay, so let's dig into this before I take too long of a break and I don't come back to this. I've already had to pause the movie a few times to catch my breath or just rewind and go back because there's a good amount that I keep missing because, apparently, the star of the film is the score and not Laurie. This is so, so slow. I've seen a lot of long horror movies, but at least with those, it feels like things are happening. Even Blood Lake had filler that did something to some degree, and with that, it was consistently bad. This movie doesn't even know what it wants to do. So, as a disclaimer, there's a good chance I'm probably missing some key details that I didn't hear because it seems that characterization isn't important if the music insists on talking over everyone.

________________________________________

So, to date, this might be one of the worst horror movies (and movies in general) that I've ever seen and it might be one of the slowest things in the entire megaverse. This is over 90 minutes of, somehow, nothing and something happening simultaneously - if that makes any sense.

This takes its sweet ass time moving along and there's so little pay-off. The majority of the characters are either nameless or we aren't introduced to them in a way that matters enough for us to care about them. It's kind of like with Violent Shit and other low-budget slasher films where the majority of the characters serve no purpose but to be disposable. Next to the two main leads, Laurie and Joe, and maybe a few others, everyone is just forgettable and even then I couldn't honestly tell you anyone's name if it was explicitly brought up. IMDb isn't helpful either, and at this point it just makes me care even less. I'm not sure if my patience has been tested too much with this, but it's kind of sad that I'm more invested in seeing what the background characters are doing than Laurie and Joe - even though I can't really hear what the hell they're saying.

Yeah, I really can't move on without talking about the sound and the music. Why is it always the audio with these movies? This has an estimated budget of $100,000, or $154,779.43 today in August 2021. How do you have the ability to somehow not make this look like a potato for the most part, well for the day shots that is, but you don't have it in you to get a good mic and someone who knows how to mix and edit correctly? I would sort of understand if you spent the majority of the money on talent to cut corners, but this is just ridiculous. Did they use the cameras' built-in mics to catch the audio here?

I feel like I need to interrupt the movie constantly to tell them to speak up because if I turn up the volume, I'm just getting bombarded with this really weird soundtrack that doesn't fit. I shit you not, during one of the kill scenes, the music booming over it sounds like it was ripped from Kevin MacLeod's "lounge" library and then the reverse happens where ominous music is playing over a more touching scene - and that's not even a dig at Kevin as an artist. That's just how inappropriate and unfitting this editing is. The weird fucking thing about this specific kill scene is that it sounds like the audio is stacked, so there are two different instrumental tracks going on.

How do you fuck something as basic as tension up like that? The audio choices are so painfully inconsistent and it doesn't know what it wants to do. There are moments where you can hear the dialogue just fine, but then the music comes in out of nowhere to segway us into the next scene and it starts to muffle things out. If it isn't that, then the dialogue is just so soft that you'd think there was a pillow on the mic or we're hearing them from the opposite side of a sound-dampened room.

This is what I meant earlier when I said I apologize in advance if I miss anything crucial because I can't make out half of these conversations. So, I'm having to keep going back if I care enough or just having to pause and take breaks because there's only so much I can handle. This means that there's a good amount I'll blank on because I have to keep going back because I can't remember the majority of these no-named characters. Who the fuck are you people? Why am I supposed to care?

If I'm understanding the non-existent rules of the wishbone, you're connected to whoever dies in some way. So, why is any of this relevant to what's going on? If it's random, then it's another reason for me not to care just because some frat kids made a wish at some point. Again, who the hell are you and why am I supposed to lament over them? Why is there so much useless filler here? Did I mention that this is over 90 minutes long and there are *three* fucking party scenes? Party scenes are to Wishbone as ten-minute-long jetskiing and beer game scenes are to Blood Lake.

Oh, speaking of other shit that's annoying. Let's talk about general editing because the sound isn't the only thing that's a mess here.

I swear that almost every single scene in this ends with a fade-out/fade-in shot. Only one or two scenes come to mind where this doesn't happen, and the first time it did I thought my browser was freezing because it abruptly cut to black and then smash cuts to a party scene. I've never, ever seen a movie that abused this that much before and it's on par with something I would have seen made by a bunch of high school kids. So, when we have a moment where this doesn't happen and it plays out normally, it feels like a breath of fresh air. I'm sure this movie's run time could have been shaved down by at least a minute or two if this wasn't a problem, along with all the useless close-up shots that serve nothing to the plot.

It's such a waste of time. I'm so fucking tired. How was this movie's budget $100k? Did they spend most of it on renting the Scranton Police Department for a few shots or did it go towards their impromptu trip to Party City? I'm so tired and I don't care anymore.

Do you want to know what the real kicker is? With just barely twenty minutes left, the whole lore about the monkey's wishbone paw comes back and that's when Laurie and her friend Karen think something is weird. Isn't this whole realization trope that happens within the first or second act, not now with your Great Value brand version of the Dream Warriors?

Also, it's not specified how much time has gone by since the start, but it has to have been at least a week or two. It's incredibly weird how they paint the main characters and the unnamed background ones as such good friends that they don't think it's weird how almost all of them have disappeared - especially one girl who doesn't seem off-put that her boyfriend (or ex) disappeared after getting into an argument at one of the parties and none of his friends could reach him either at his own house.

The final showdown is an utter pain in the ass to get through because the conflict ends as abruptly as it starts and it's so unsatisfying. We get to see the face of our villain, I guess, and then more or less cut to our leads holding hands down the street set to the same looping lounge music we've been dealing with for over 90 damn minutes. Is everyone else who went with them dead? Did they live? Who cares! That's one thing the movie and I can agree on since we never see them again. We end on a shitty cliffhanger that's supposed to prepare us for a sequel, which thankfully never happened.

________________________________________

And that was Wishbone. Holy fucking shit, I've never been so thankful for a movie to be over in my life. It's 11:07 PM as of tinkering with some minor revisions and I've been in purgatory with this for over five hours, and yet, it feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.

I've raved about how bad Blood Lake was with its incredibly bad pacing, but this is next level awful and a testament to bad filmmaking if I've ever seen it. I expect a lot of the things I complained about from super amateur filmmakers who are shooting on an actual shoestring budget, not people who had that much money to fuck around with. How did they have that kind of a budget, and the most they can give us is bad audio, Windows Movie Maker levels of basic editing, three wrap parties, and a few crumbs of gore that we could see?

This was physically painful to see and I'm in much worse shape having endured it than I would have been if I sat through something liked Boardinghouse, and that has a two-and-a-half-hour-long version tied to it. This is just a marvel and I mean that in a so-bad-it's-bad way, not like how SOV enthusiasts who love this stuff pine over. If I had to give one thing going for it, one single granule of gold that I enjoyed from this, it's the limited shots we get of the area so I could make a game out of seeing what local spots I recognized. If playing I Spy is the only way for someone to endure your movie, then I don't know what else to say.

Wishbone is a hot mess where shit's happening, but also nothing is happening at the same time. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. In fact, I wish this movie never existed or would die in the ether and never return to our mortal realm ever again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke and hope I don't get run over by a hearse tomorrow.

RATING: 0.5/10

#wishbone #wishbone 2000 #film #horror #horror movies #horror film #iac reviews #horror review #review #low budget horror #sov #shot on video #sov horror #shot on video horror #2000s horror #2000's horror #00s horror #00's horror

[biggy-habes]

Yesterday ended up being the day that I had been dreading for a while. I had to say goodbye to my best friend. My little buddy. My copilot. My Road Dawg.

Fennie passed on from this life on July 3rd in the comfort of his own home with me and Kat holding him until the very end. This was something that I had promised him from the very beginning. A promise that I would never leave him. That I would be with him until the very end. And that I would always be by his side. I owed him that much.

Fennie's path crossed mine back in 2010 when I walked into the animal shelter at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. I was looking for a small dog that would fit in my tiny 1BR apartment. I got to his cage and I saw a skinny little shit that looked like he wanted to get out of his cage and eat me and my first thought was "This pup has spunk!" He had a deep, bright orange coat and a fluffy tail that made him look like he was part fox and had these dark orange freckled spots on his white nose. His face could only be described as "scampish". The worker asked if I wanted to take him out and spend some time with him to see if he warmed up to me so I took him outside in the visitation pen. He didn't seem all that affectionate and was not particularly friendly with me. But there was something about him. I saw something within him. I asked about his history and all that was known was that he was 2 years old and had been surrendered by an elderly couple for being too aggressive. I looked at this tiny little guy and wondered "How much trouble could he be?" 15 minutes later I was walking out with this Spaniel mix (whose original name was actually Lucky. Clearly that name would not stick around for much longer.)

Fennie was originally supposed to be a dog that my girlfriend at the time and I would raise together. However when we split up it was agreed that she would get the cats and I would keep Fennie. It was this decision that would change my life forever. I would no longer be able to use the bathroom without someone worrying where I went. For 11 years this dog would never leave my side. And if I had to be gone for an extended period of time it was preceded with the promise that I would ALWAYS come back for him.

One thing that Fennie will always be remembered for was his never-ending energy. He was constantly going 100 miles a minute. He could not slow down and he would never tire. It was like they took the vigor of a large golden lab and stuffed it into a tiny 20 pound body. No hike was ever long enough. There were never enough objects for him to hump. When he was around 4 I can remember thinking "I cannot wait for him to get a little older so that he will slow down a little bit". Well I would end up waiting for that day to come for a very, very long time.

Despite his size and stature, Fennie always felt like he was so much bigger than he actually was. No matter where he was he would walk around with a poise that he owns all that can be seen and anyone or anything intruding in his territory would have to answer to him. At the dog park he would go up and snatch toys from dogs that could CLEARLY beat his ass without even giving it a second thought. He had some big ol' brass balls, man! He never viewed himself as being in the Not-Even-2-Feet-In-Length, 20 pound body that he was in. He was always vigilant and on guard. No box, package, suitcase, or bag was able to get past him without going through a rigorous sniff search first. He took his job as protector of his territory and his Daddy very seriously!

Fennie would end up living a life that few other dogs would get the opportunity to. As being with a person who is constantly drifting, he got to see more of this great country than most of the people that I know. He has been on the boardwalk in Myrtle Beach. He has been to the mountains of Flagstaff. He has been to ABQ, New Mexico. He has been to Detroit Rock City. He has touched the top of the highest peak east of the Mississippi. He has visited the aftermath of the destruction caused by the tornado in Joplin, Missouri. He has been to Kalamazoo. He has been to Vegas. In his lifetime he has marked Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Missouri, and Illinois as his. He has been through 3 tropical storms, 3 ice storms, 2 tornados, a blizzard, and an earthquake. He has scrapped with a bull terrier and lived to tell the tale. His life was full of adventures, road trips, and hikes.

I’m not going to lie and say that he loved everyone that he met. But I will say that he has touched the heart of everyone that he ever encountered. He was honestly the right dog for the right person at the right time. We shared so many of the same character traits. He was moody. He got irritated very easily. He just had a way of pulling you in. He was lovable, yet complicated. He was selfish and jealous. He didn’t really like to engage in play with any other dogs. He wasn’t one to share. There was never any “Lets Play Fetch”. He had a fiery temper. He was overly cautious. He had a tendency to be untrusting. I have many friends and family that bore the mark of meeting him on their fingertips for a few days afterwards. But he could also be affectionate, and funny, and had the tendency to be a bit of a klutz. He was a great cuddler! And for such a small dog, he had a personality that would burst at the seams.

In his 11 years with me he has shown and taught me so much. He taught me the value of loyalty. If I could use 3 words to describe Fennie then they would be “Loyal…As…FUCK!” Relationships would come and go but he stuck by my side no matter what. He had my back and was willing to protect me at the drop of a hat. And he refused to let anyone or anything come between him and I. He taught me patience. My LORD he taught me some patience!! He taught me that however old you are, you can still be young at heart. And he taught me to love unconditionally. I was not always the best owner. I would get upset at him for things that he had nothing to do with. He would get scared when I would lose my temper. And yet he would still come over to me to comfort me and let me know that he was there for me when I was done. And I cannot tell you the amount of times I accidentally stepped on his paw while walking or whacked him in the head while opening a cabinet, and he would just sit there looking at me like “Eh whatever. So what’s up with that walk you were talking about?”

Although I had other pets growing up, Fennie was the first dog that was MINE. And he is not a someone that I could ever forget. He traveled with me as I bounced from place to place and would only give me a look as if to say "Hey man, I trust you. Just don't leave me." He devoted his entire life to me, and it was only fitting that I spend his whole life by his side. And he gave me a pretty awesome life. I had noticed that he his health had been declining about a year ago. He started slowing down. Getting up was getting to be more of a struggle. His stomach started having issues. He ended up requiring a surgery. I asked myself if the cost of the surgery was worth getting 6 more months with my little buddy. I ended up getting a year. I got my money's worth.

Fenway "Fennie" Haber, affectionately referred to as Foo Bear, Bubba, Fennie Foo (or Fennie Foo Bear if you aren't into the whole brevity thing) will always be remembered for his temperament, his charm, and his overall cuteness. Just like his dear Papa. I was so fortunate to spend the last decade with him by my side. I wasn't exactly sure if I had made the right decision when I first chose him. But I couldn't imagine my life without him. He left this world cuddled up on his favorite blanket alongside his favorite shirt and he was surrounded by love until the light faded from him. As he started to drift off I spoke my last words to him...

For 11 years you've been my Ryde or Die

The time has come for us to say goodbye

The day I have been dreading is finally here

The end of a legacy and a legend is near

Thank you for the life you have given me

Thank you for your undying loyalty

Thank you for comforting me when I needed a friend

Thank you for trusting me until the very end.

I'm going to miss you taking up the whole bed

And your cuddles that were top notch

And when I'm napping you kicking me in the head

And stomping me in the crotch

Don't worry about what will happen to me

After you are gone.

You did such a great job taking care of your Dad

and I will continue to go on

But I will always keep you tucked deep inside my heart

until my life is through

You aren't a dog that is easy to forget

And no matter what I will continue to love you

So if you see me crying as I hold you

and looking scared and sad

It's only because I'll miss you so much

and the life together we had

Get some rest, little buddy

And for now I'll say goodbye

But I'm sure I'll see you again in some crazy dream

Or when I get a little too high

Via con dios my little friend.

Na Zdrowie, Fennie!

Do Widzenie.

You were the right dog, for the right person, at the right time.

[pluckyredhead]

I'd love to pick a fic quote, but I'm on my phone so I'll just ask about the whole thing, OK? Private property, when Foggy finds out and Matt crashes.

Fic is here!

Matt had known Foggy nearly a decade now. He’d never heard him this mad before.

“You ever stop to think what would happen if you went to jail? Or worse?” he demanded. Matt tried not to cringe visibly. Everything hurt and he was so tired. They’d been here so long. “You really think that anyone would believe that I didn’t know what you were doing? You’re my Companion, Matt. I’m responsible for you.”

This is one of those things, like “All this time I actually felt sorry for you,” that Foggy never meant to say out loud. It’s less that he feels like he’s legally or financially liable for Matt’s behavior (although he is) and more that he sees his role as Matt’s patron as protecting him from people who would abuse Matt’s Companion status and enabling Matt to get out of that status, and (part of) his role as Matt’s friend as loving this sad, self-loathing orphan as much as humanly possible. But Matt, of course, takes it in exactly the worst way because he hates himself, and reads it as a) him ruining everything for Foggy forever, b) Foggy sticking around Matt out of obligation rather than affection, and/or c) Foggy being so angry at Matt that they’re no longer friends, just Patron and Companion.

Now Matt really did cringe. Foggy never pulled the Companion card; most of the time he acted like they weren’t in the Program at all. Why was he bringing it up now?

But Matt had already made his choice. “The city needs me in that mask, Foggy.”

Salt in the air again. It wasn’t the first time Foggy had cried since Matt had woken up. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it does. But I don’t,” Foggy said. Something raw and wild was clawing at Matt’s throat, working its way out. “I only ever needed my friend. I wouldn't have kept this from you, Matt. Not from you.”

“You don’t know that,” Matt stammered. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Foggy said, and the ring of finality chilled Matt to his core. “I do.”

Footsteps. Foggy was leaving. Foggy was leaving. Maybe he was going to call the Program right now to dismiss Matt, to end it, end everything they’d built together.

Matt couldn’t let him do it.

“Foggy, wait!”

Foggy didn’t stop. Matt tried to stand and fell back against the couch as pain shot through his abdomen.

Would Matt actually be able to stand when he couldn’t in canon? Eh.

But Foggy was still moving towards the door, and Matt’s terror was stronger than the pain.

“Foggy!”

He lurched off the couch, stumbled the few steps to Foggy and dropped to his knees in front of him, hands fisted in the hem of Foggy’s shirt. “Foggy, no, no, please, you have to stay.”

“Matt, get back on the couch.” Foggy sounded so tired.

I tend to emphasize how tired Foggy is when he and Matt fight in my fics because Foggy is normally such a peppy, high-energy character - and often the only source of pep in Matt’s life - and so making Foggy tired by his very existence makes Matt feel terrible. I like making Matt feel terrible. ;)

“Please.” Matt allowed himself the infinitesimal relief of pressing his forehead to Foggy’s hip, just for a second. “Don’t dismiss me, please, I’m sorry.” Everything hurt; his knees hurt, his side hurt, his head hurt. He didn’t care. “Please, I’ll be good.”

“Jesus, Matt, stop.” Foggy’s hands closed around Matt’s wrists and tried to tug them away from his shirt, but gently, carefully. “You’re getting back on that couch, and I’m leaving.”

Angry voice + gentle hands = A Thing for me, for sure.

“No.” Matt shook Foggy’s hands off and took a tighter grip. “Please, I’m sorry, I promise, I’ll…” He wasn’t going to stop fighting. He couldn’t stop. He had to offer something else. “Let me...please. I’ll show you I can be a good Companion. I know you want me, Foggy. I can...you can have me.”

Foggy made a noise like someone had let all the air out of him. “...What?”

“I can...here.” Matt let go of Foggy’s shirt and fumbled at his fly. “Let me...I’ll show you. Please, I’ll be so good for you.”

Yeah, so this sequence might be why I wrote the whole fic? I was just really hooked on the idea of Matt desperately offering himself up and Foggy being like what!! the fuck!!! and Matt being like why this no work??? :( Matt you are GOOD at seducing people when you want to be, stop bleeding and get your shit together.

Foggy didn’t move, apparently stunned, and Matt got the button open and the zipper down with trembling fingers. He nuzzled against Foggy and Foggy let out a sudden, sharp hiss. His heart was racing but he wasn’t hardening, and Matt didn’t smell the cocktail of body chemistry that meant arousal, just exhaustion and worry.

“Please,” he said again, and reached for the waistband of Foggy’s boxers to push them down, but Foggy grabbed his wrists again, more firmly this time.

“Matt, what the fuck?” he asked. He didn’t sound turned on at all. Why didn’t he want this?

Foggy is the most horrified, and Matt has no idea how fucked up this is.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Matt asked, aware that his voice was bordering on hysterical but unable to stop it. “Please, you can, I’ll do anything, just don’t dismiss me.”

Foggy recoiled, and Matt felt it like a slap in the face. “Jesus fucking Christ, Matt, no,” Foggy said. “Now get back on the fucking couch.”

Again, this is Foggy being like “What the hell, I’m not going to coerce you into sex while injured and terrified!” and Matt being like “That means you HATE me. :( :( :( “ Matt needs so much therapy.

Heart sinking, Matt let Foggy lift him to his feet and help him back to the couch. Foggy zipped up his pants and a wave of heat rolled off of him, a palpable blush, but no arousal. Matt didn’t understand. Did Foggy not want him anymore? Had he finally ruined it for good?

Yeah, among other things, this is excruciatingly embarrassing for Foggy.

He could sense Foggy standing over him - staring at him, probably, not that Matt could tell for sure.

“I’m not going to dismiss you, Matt,” Foggy said finally. “I would never do that to you. You’re as broke as I am, you’d default and end up in jail.” He shook his head. “Shit, maybe I should. Maybe you’d be safer in jail, where you couldn’t do any of this.”

Matt wasn’t broke - yet another secret, one he didn’t dare spill, not with Foggy so angry about all the others - but even if he had been, he didn’t care about defaulting. He didn’t care about jail. Didn’t Foggy know that?

He swallowed, and didn’t say anything. Foggy sighed.

“No, you’d probably come up with some way to get yourself half-killed even in solitary,” Foggy said. Matt heard the soft rustle of Foggy raking his fingers through his hair. “I don’t...God, Matt, I’m not going to dismiss you, okay? You don’t have to…” His voice was tight again. “Is that really what you think of me? That I would cut you loose unless you let me fuck you? Is that what you think we are?”

This is the moment that hurts Foggy the most. Matt is terrified of losing Foggy, not legal or financial consequences, but to Foggy this feels like Matt never trusted Foggy and never trusted the friendship between them. Now Foggy not only has to sort out how much of what Matt’s said over the years has been a lie, he has to sort out how much of what he thought was friendship was Matt sucking up to be a good Companion and not actually caring about Foggy.

Matt, of course, doesn’t consider his own friendship as something of much value, so his assumption that that wouldn’t be enough to keep Foggy around without sex at this point is about thinking very little of Matt, not of Foggy. But Foggy’s just entered a new level of Matt’s self-loathing and hasn’t quite figured out how it works yet.

And of course, Foggy would never in a million years dismiss Matt, even if they did stop being friends, because that would be an immensely shitty thing to do.

“I...no,” Matt said. He didn’t know what they were. They weren’t Patron and Companion, but they weren’t just friends either, not with this between them. “I’m sorry.”

Foggy sat down on the arm of the couch, the one by Matt’s feet. “I guess it was naive of me, hoping you didn’t know that I...how I felt about you,” he said after a long moment. “I always thought, you know, maybe someday when you’d settled your account, when we were on an even footing, if I told you, maybe you’d…I don’t know, maybe you’d trust me enough to know I meant it.” He paused. Matt wished he could see his expression. “But you were never going to trust me, were you? Not with your senses, not with the fighting. Not with anything.”

“I do trust you,” Matt protested, but it came out weak.

Foggy shook his head. “No,” he said. “If you did, you’d have told me. Like I’d have told you.” He stood up. “It’s fine. I guess it wasn’t fair of me to expect it, not with the Program and all. How can you trust someone when they have all the power?”

I tried here to hit a balance between Foggy being really, really angry and hurt, and also recognizing his own privilege in this dynamic. If he’d just stormed off like he did in canon, that would be hugely douchey - but understanding and forgiving immediately would be wildly unrealistic considering how upset he is. And even with the difference in privilege at play here, Matt has lied extensively to Foggy, put him in legal, physical, and financial peril, and said some extremely hurtful things, so it’s not like it’s unfair for Foggy to be upset. Foggy has a lot to work through, but this story is from Matt’s POV so we don’t get to see any of that. Sorry. :P

“Foggy, don’t…” Matt started as Foggy drifted towards the door.

“It’s okay, Matt,” Foggy said. “I’m not dismissing you. I’m not...we’re still Nelson and Murdock. It’s okay.” He gave a weary shrug. “But I need sleep, and so do you. I’ll...I’ll see you in a couple of days, buddy.”

And Matt listened to him leave.

#daredevil #meme #i write things #berseker

[karmamain]

Even in the face of God he believes he's not corrupted, he would swear he isn't because he's blind to his actions, he's those Americans who believes they do everything right just because the Lord is by his side. I doubt his Lord is real because I'm sure He doesn't want His people to suffer and die

He used to be part of a parish and held Sunday sessions, he used to be a sniper in the army and talked about his killings as if it's so normal, he bragged about it. He's so delusional he wanted to marry me within the year after we talked for barely 5 days, I never felt loved or safe with him, I talked to him because his son broke up with me and that's a mistake because he doesn't know how to act properly as an adult, I did say I liked him because he's nice (he was until he got freaky) but he took it another way and became pushy and horny, wanting to do shit with me, asking for nudes and camming and sent a picture of his dick and all that, I'm 18 and he's like what 40? So just because I'm legal doesn't mean you can start an onslaught with this kinda treatment (thank lord we live in different countries) and he was inconsiderate, he even calls himself a man, I never knew a man means being a fuckboy.

This taught me a quick lesson on the type of men I should avoid and just because he's old doesn't mean shit, he's stingy as well so I doubt he would give me a life I deserve, (I was kind of wanting to attempt some kind of sugar thing but like it's just to risky!) which is why he has such a messy romantic history with how many kids he has I don't know.

I want women to avoid him but maybe there are people who might love him. He doesn't understand boundaries and needs you to be firm and repeat which I suck at because I don't like him not caring enough to listen properly to what I say, he likes to make you agree that he is never wrong and all that, but I'm too weak, tired to argue so I just get it over with and say my goodbyes. I should've done it earlier like legit talk to him for 30 minutes and realise he ain't here to cheer me up without getting something out of me and avoided those extra 4 days.

A real man would be responsible for his children and not abuse them when he's drunk. I doubt he's changed because even if he apparently never hit a woman, they haven't struggled enough with him because he does have a mean face but I've never seen him angry.

once he misunderstood my friend for working as a contractor, he thought my friend was in the army and talked shit about them pissing in bottles but I never said my friend was even part of that. After he ranted about what a shit head my friend is and I finally was able to say he wasn't even contracted in the army, he was just some project manager guy I think? Where you are hired to a company to bring a proposed plan to real life and you handle big bucks and have meetings everyday-- the guy was silent, not sure if he's holding in his anger or wanted to tell me why didn't I say so sooner (uh well I could if he stopped bashing at something that doesn't even exist) and then I forgot what happened after that but that's it. I don't feel like I was able to say much in conversation, he talks a lot and I don't feel like I'm really there so I might as well leave right. Ughh he was such a headache why did I even bother.

He shouldn't have abandoned his children to his older brother to take care of in another country. If he knew he fucked up with his first child that he wasn't supposed to have, he should've done better in preventing it from happening, at least again. The one I dated was an absolute nightmare where if I left he would threaten to kill himself. I'm dumb.

I might rant about the son in another post, like dude it's just yucky. I wouldn't consider my time with him as being dating but if you think that me hanging on to a dead beat and trying to help him while I suffered is a relationship just because he says he loves me and I'm kind of forced to say me too back then I guess that I did date him.

He shouldn't have joined the army, I'm sure there are other opportunities, he should know killing is bad, I don't know what happens in the field for people to be okay but wars are never okay and that you shouldn't even support it by signing up. I know it's not realistic to want people to not have wars and all that but that's another topic, all I'm saying is that a religious person should value what the Lord has created and not laugh about in their deaths to try woo a girl.

He's the basic American but with ADHD who is in a high position in a company and would fire people mercilessly. He's such a dick for basically sending this woman to the streets, a single struggling mother just because Amazon thinks she works like shit or something (a mother trying to bring up 4 kids is stressful, don't know much about the backstory with her but she's trying to do her best by herself. I'm sure you can help others out of your work hours right? 'be like the Lord' he sneers as he fired her, I don't know why he didn't feel bad for her, he literally laughed when he told me that like brooo you're fucked). I'm sure I've read that Amazon treats everyone like shit anyways.

Although he's taught me more about the Lord, that's about as good as it gets. I was new into being a Protestant.

Being a Protestant doesn't mean much. He glorifies himself to the point where he just thinks that he deserves everything. Like yeah man we follow the Bible and that's as close as it gets with the Lord man, I'm like superior to all others and like having a big ego helps, not knowing how my actions can hurt others helps because I don't need to worry about them as long as I send my message, like I don't care and like I'll treat my woman with mad respect but because you aren't my woman right now I'll not do that because you know, not every woman deserves respect I guess.

(I read that how a guy treats you now is how he gonna treat you forever, don't expect him to change just because you changed titles, like legit a title means nothing but for others to understand a relationship, he doesn't love you unless you cross a river? Well shit I ain't even gonna try cross it for a fool).

Like his son, he also says that he would find a (redhead) chick that's better than me, which I doubt because it's either she is dumb and would let him trample her, or a cool chick who dated him but soon realises what a cunt he is and hopefully leaves him for her own good, I'm sorry that I'm so against him but I just think he's breeded enough of his own kind to pass on his disgusting ways and teaching them how to treat a woman like shit U hardly even have a wife to even treat her properly enough to be together forever with, he can't fucking take care of his own children and would like to have more for crying out loud, yeah I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I love but I don't know how to love because I'll try exploit them instead and blah blah blah. His favourite character is the slut boy and would laugh 'giggly diggly' I think that's how he says it? Creepy, yeah, one of the best friends of peter from family guy, says a lot huh.

I'm tired. I don't know if I should say his name because who knows what'll happen. But I also want women to have a heads up on what kind of person he is. He didn't do anything illegal, or that he hasn't told me the shit he did. (Does killing people while in the army count as murder?) He's as great as he claims to be if he did love the Lord and read the Bible he would've known a 3some was a no-no, and wanting to marry me while doing that kinda shit makes me uncomfortable, I don't think he even took me seriously to even know what to say to a girl. Literally just stop talking about your kinky ass shit and your dick being hard, and if that's all you can talk about besides the Lord then that's the reason why I blocked him. He believed we were dating the moment I spoke to him that I broke up with his son. That's whack. Ew.

Thanks for reading because I just had to get this outta my head like, bad stuff like this doesn't extinguish itself unless I vent it out yanno?

#disgusting piece of shit