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happy74827 · 6 months

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Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

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thesharktanksdriver · 8 months

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Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

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sunny44 · 1 year

Text

Birthday boy

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of sex and boyfriend Lewis.

Summary: it’s Lewis’ birthday and you planned a surprise for him.

Today was Lewis' birthday and he had been so excited about it all week that I had never seen him like this.

Normally people have a crisis when they get close to 40 but I don't think he cares. When I turned 34 this year I almost went into despair and he was the one who said it was no big deal and that I actually looked 24, which certainly boosted my ego, even more so coming from him.

And after that we had the best sex ever so all in all I couldn't have had a better birthday.

We are in Monaco and I was preparing a surprise for him and this consisted of me having to pretend that I didn't have anything in mind and hoping that he wouldn't notice that I was lying.

By some miracle I woke up before he did and could admire him sleeping, the sheet covered only from the waist down leaving his back completely exposed and I began to trace my fingers over his tattoos. He moved and soon I felt his hand on my waist and he pulled me close to him, making us squirm.

"Good morning." His husky voice drifts past my ears making me smile.

I love his voice from when he just wakes up.

"Good morning love." I feel him smile against my neck and then start leaving several kisses scattered there. "Aren't I the one who should be treating you like royalty today?"

"Maybe." He murmurs. "How would you feel about some birthday sex?"

"Hmm I think that's a great idea."

...

After having sex for about half an hour I decided to take a quick shower while he talked to his mother on his cell phone and when I was done I went straight to the kitchen to prepare a smoothie for us since we were going for a run.

This was one of the things that I had learned throughout our relationship, he never misses the morning run and in the beginning I hated it because he would wake me up at 7am so we could run but after a while I realized that he would not stop so I just joined him and nowadays we always run together.

"Ready?"

"Drink your smoothie and we can go." He agrees and after taking it we leave the building walking hand in hand.

We went to the usual place and then started running, the day in Monaco was beautiful and warm.

When we got to the top of the place where we always run, he stopped at the edge and took off his shirt since it was hot and I took a picture of him smiling when he heard the noise of the cell phone that I swore was on silent.

"Always taking pictures of me distracted aren't you." He says coming closer and hugging my waist. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible." He says laughing and letting go of me.

"Why is it impossible?"

"Because it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"Lewis."

"I love you more, simple."

"I'm letting you win this one just because it's your birthday and because you're getting old too."

"Very funny girl." He moves closer to me again. "But you love this old man here.”

"Yes, I really do." He smiles and kisses me.

"Come, let's watch the view a little before we go home.”

He sits on the floor and pulls me to sit between his legs and I lean on his chest.

He kissed my neck and we stayed there for a while until we left.

...

Lewis wanted to spend the day at home and by some miracle he wanted to eat junk food so we ordered hamburgers, he ordered a vegan hamburger and I ordered a regular hamburger and together we ordered fries.

After eating until we could not stand it anymore we stayed on the couch watching movies until we fell asleep and slept until about 18:30.

"What are you going to do?" He asks when he sees me exiting the closet wearing only lingerie.

"Which one of these do you think it’s easier?"

“Easier for what?”

“For you to take it off latter.” He laughs. “But seriously witch one do you prefer?”

"Why?"

"Just answer."

"The white one." I agree and leave him on top of the armchair in the corner of the room. My cell phone beeps and as I reach for it on the nightstand he pulls me up onto his bed. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much, I just thought it would be nice to book a table at a restaurant for a birthday dinner."

"Hm, are you sure that's all?" He asks still suspicious but doesn't miss the opportunity to hold my ass.

"Actually after we get back there's one more little surprise but this you already know you're going to get." He smiles and kisses me going his hands up to my bra and when he was about to open it I took his hands away.

"We have to go soon." He grumbles.

"Just a quick one."

"No babe, I don't want to get sweaty."

"How do you know you'll get sweaty?"

"Because with you I always do." He smiles and kisses me again before getting up.

"I'm going to get ready." He goes to the bathroom to shower while I sit down in my dressing table chair and start to get ready.

After about 10 minutes he came out of the bathroom with the towel around his waist teasing me and went to the closet coming out of there after wearing pants.

"Does my shirt have to match your dress?" He stops beside me and I look at him in the reflection.

"Wow you look hot." He smiles and kisses my forehead. "And only if you want it to."

"Okay." He walks into the closet and after I finish my makeup I start to put on the dress and feel his hand pulling the shoulder strap towards my shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I just need to put on my shoes and get my purse."

I grabbed my car keys and drove to the restaurant, Lewis hated to drive if it wasn't fast so usually when we go out I drive but lately he's been driving more.

When we arrived we went to our table and had a great dinner, as usual some people stopped to ask for pictures and he took some but after many people started coming he politely asked them to stop because he wanted to celebrate his birthday without being bothered all the time.

The surprise part was now, his friends and family that I had called were in the back and after we had finished I took the blindfold from the bag.

"You need you to put this on." He takes it and looks at me.

"Shouldn't we be home for this?"

"Lewis." I scolded him since at the same time a waitress had walked by. "Not for this part."

"What's it for, then?"

"Just put it on and stop being suspicious for a second. Don't you trust me?"

"I do."

"It doesn't look like it." I say putting the blindfold on him. "Now let's go."

"All right."

I grabbed our things and took his hand and guided him to where everyone was, I had already told them that we were going so they would be quiet. When we entered they all smiled and I let go of his hand.

"Are you going to leave me here blindfolded? I just need to take off my clothes now." At that he takes off the blindfold and everyone shouts “surprise”.

"Nice of you to say that in front of your mother." I slap him lightly on the arm.

"Like she doesn't know we do that." He says and hugs me. "And she's been asking me for a while for more grandchildren.”

"The idea of having a mini you running around the house really appeals to me." I feel him smile into my neck. "Now go say hello to everyone."

"Okay. And thank you by the way, you are the best girlfriend anyone could ever have."

"Thanks, but it's about time you promoted me to something else don't you think?"

"Absolutely." He kisses me and leaves to go celebrate with everyone.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername stories

Morning runs with my birthday boy (8:30 a.m)

Yourusername stories

Dinner outfit

Ps: chosen by the best stylist/boyfriend (9:27 p.m)

Yourusername post

Liked by @LewisHamilton, @yourmom, @f1, @sebastianvettel and others 193781

Tagged: @LewisHamilton

@Yourusername Today the love of my life completes 38 years of pure love and joy.

I am so lucky to have someone like you in my life, a loving person who makes me feel like the only woman in this whole world, the person who makes me extremely happy every day.

I love you with all my heart and I'm ready to spend the rest of my life by your side and I hope I made your day the most special of all.

Happy birthday lover boy 💕.

@LewisHamilton I’m the lucky one to have this amazing women in my life, love you so much baby and I’m super ready to the next step in our life’s.

@Yourusername I hope you’re talking about marriage

@lewishamilton I was thinking about babies but sure

@yourmom happy birthday Lew, you’re for sure one of the kinds

Liked by @yourusername and @lewishamilton

@sebastianvettel happy birthday man, wishing you all the best

@georgerussell happy birthday, all the best

640 notes · View notes

umeoniii · 1 year

Text

aot women beige flags!

٩( 'ω' )و

mikasa, hange, annie, sasha, ymir, pieck

mikasa:

☆ gets super sick easily

and these sicknesses literally beat her ass

she just has a super weak immune system

can go out one time then when she comes back home she’s literally stuck in bed like it’s her dying days.

a common cold for her is like the plague

it seems as if she’s an old victorian child lying in her bed asking her mother for bread and water.

☆ somehow physic

not so much now, it’s not like she has powers

but she has a ‘6th sense’ and she can tell when something bad is going to happen

first time she did it you thought she was joking around

but then she was right because the building next to you caught fire (cooking error…)

you were totally scared of her after that bcs what if she was behind it

then you forgave her (she did nothing wrong?) and tried to convince her to give you a fortune

then she proceeded to tell you that’s not what the sixth sense is for

hange:

☆ really likes playing games

hanges a sore loser though.

this is super funny

super competitive with stuff like board games and video games. and she takes it seriously.

when she loses she takes it to heart.

she’ll throw a temper tantrum and get upset and everything.

she’ll do anything to win as well. cheats and switches the game all she wants, especially when she’s actually winning. but when you try to do it it’s all “no no that’s not how you play!”

you DO NOT want to play uno with hange. enough said

☆ makes impressions of people in public.

let’s say you’re in the car parked and you see a couple sitting on the bench talking.

she’ll give them names and make a voice and act what she thinks is their conversation.

it’s far funnier than it sounds.

if she sees a couple and their friend,

“eh barbra? i didn’t know you were gonna invite your annoying friend, you know how much i hate her!” she’d snicker while staring at the three people

and there’s actually times where you hate it bcs of how unserious she acts.

sometimes she would invite you along to voice someone else

and she would just sit and laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever!

annie:

☆ bargain queen

has coupons for everything in the whole wide world

she has all the apps for everyplace she goes so she’ll get some kind of deal.

her total at the grocery store would go from $135 to $80 bcs she’s a diehard user of coupons

she makes u use them as well and stuffs some in your wallet

she’s a karen for these things as well

if the price tag says it’s ‘$3.12’ then it’s ‘$3.12’ whether the seller says “well that’s last weeks price”

she’ll say “well maybe you should’ve changed it, how would the manager feel if i told them you’re not doing youre job?”

and she’d get it for $3.12

☆ greets an animal before she greets a person

if she seems someone she knows walking their dog she won’t even look at them let alone speak to them

she’ll crouch and pet the dog and start baby talking to them before she gets up and says something to the walker

she actually likes animals a lot

more than ppl

she’d have some kind of shirt displaying that as well

“im more of a dog person than a people person”

sasha:

☆ cant stay on track in a conversation

she could be talking to you about something she heard about someone. then she’ll be like, “speaking of her i remember when me and her went out for these awesome burgers.”

THEN she’ll say “wait because i was actually contemplating going vegan…. what do you think?”

the whole convo switches topics every 2 minutes or so.

you get so confused as to how the conversation went from work drama to when she thinks the world is going to end.

☆ takes the first bite of your food

it’s an unspoken rule.

she doesn’t even say “to test it for poison” she just does it because she wants

trying something new? she gets the first bite. you haven’t ate all day? she still gets the first bite. it’s your favorite food in the whole wide world? two words: first. bite.

and it’s not even a small bite, it’s the BIGGEST chomp she could take.

you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t care. you just shove it in her face.

because if you were being honest if she just suddenly stopped you’d be concerned and sad.

ymir:

☆ cannot take some things seriously

she could be out w you at a restaurant and see this waiter’s name on their tag

“gaylord”

it’s not even pronounced “gay lord” but “gaylerd”

she’ll turn around and start hysterically laughing she doesn’t even care that the waiters right there

you can tell her a story from work or something that’s completely serious and she’ll still laugh no matter what

☆ lies out of her ass for no reason

you could tell her you tried some cool new exotic food and she’ll be like

“oh i had that when i was 5 and i almost died because i’m allergic to the spices in it”

and it’s kind of obvious it’s a lie but you don’t even say anything bcs she rides hard to defend herself and say it’s the truth

she’ll even go as far as editing photos and calling other people so it would be more believable

she sometimes doesn’t even lie to be funny but just out of habit

these aren’t bad kind of lies and she tells the truth when needed but she still b lyin..

pieck:

☆ cannot save money for her life

she can put aside some money for important stuff and it would be gone in a flash

worst part is the money is wasted on totally useless stuff

like finger puppets

what are you gonna do with finger puppets when you’re stranded for miles?

tries harder to not let it happen

then it happens again and she tries to justify it by saying that maybe a corn butterer was a great investment

(it wasn’t)

☆ can sleep anywhere at anytime

we all know this don’t we…

but it’s horrible

restaurants, floor, toilet

she could probably go to sleep in the club if she’s tired enough

she doesn’t look dead when she sleeps (unlike connie)

she looks very calm whether she’s in a deep sleep or taking a power nap

and she probably gets a decent amount of sleep at night, she just naps bcs… she wants to?

♡

a/n: at least 3 of these stories are actually real things i’ve faced with friends and family LOL so this is so funny to me. some of these aren’t even beige flags and are lowkey hcs, let’s just pretend alr!

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cvrnelians · 1 year

Text

unfollowed - chapter one

Kendall has been building up the courage to talk to you for a while now. When he finds your Twitter account, he sees this as the perfect opportunity to get to know you anonymously, without any preconceived notions.

He didn’t mean for it to go this far. He’s planning on telling you the truth eventually, he really is! One day. When it’s the right time.

Ideally, before you figure out he’s not Greg.

chapter two

chapter one

You figured you knew all there was to know (and more than you ever even wanted to know) about the Roys. Who didn't? They were that perfect mix of arrogance and absurd wealth that made news outlets go apeshit. You tried your best to tune them out as you scrolled through social media, but your attempts to evade them were simply unrealistic at this point.

When you were away from your phone, you were still inundated with information about whatever scandal of they week they were involved with. You would catch a blip of Roman being hounded by paparazzi on the news, or one of your professors would bring up Shiv's campaign strategies as a controversial talking point. They were even a source of conversation during forced family functions, somehow melding into a foolproof way to break the ice. You were doubtful of many things in this life, but if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was this:

Nothing created stronger bonds between people than by banding together to talk shit about other people.

Everyone seemed to have something to say about that family. There were so many of them, and they were so awful, and their power and influence only made them even more awful. You likened them to the popular kids at school, or the Kardashians or something. The general consensus was that everyone hated them, and yet, no one turned down an opportunity to see what they were up to, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty five days a year. They were a guilty pleasure for the masses, actors in a soap opera designed to make everyone stop and stare.

But mostly point and laugh.

It all started with a Twitter DM. Seriously. A Twitter DM.

In retrospect, you couldn’t help but think about how comical it all was—being romantically pursued through a Twitter DM.

At least it wasn’t Instagram. Whenever someone messaged you there, you never gave it a second look. Instagram DMs from strange men you didn't know typically manifested as a reaction to one of your photos, which you were none too crazy about. A Twitter DM was strange in a different way. You had little to no identifying information on your account, just your first name and your birthday. Your avi was a photo of your cat taking a nap. If someone had something to say to you on Twitter, it wasn't appearance based. It was a genuine reaction to something stupid you said, plain and simple.

And so, because you had a grand total of seven followers (two friends you barely spoke to, your sister, three acquaintances from college, and one bot), the message stood out. As one could expect from someone with seven followers, your tweets were nothing groundbreaking. You treated Twitter like it was your personal diary, or some kind of vat to pour your stream of consciousness into.

Your most popular tweets?

i'm exhausted

i dyed my hair all by myself and it actually looks ok ( o :

should i go vegan

oh god i'm so exhaustedddddd rn

that one song by the gorillaz about sunshine in a bag??? that's my shit

i'm. so. EXHAUSTED ): ): ):

You were quite the wordsmith, if you said so yourself.

Best (or worst) of all, though?

can we as a society please make a pact to collectively block the roy family on every platform? i’m so sick of hearing about them and seeing their dumbass posts on my feed. i’m honestly going to have a mental breakdown make it stop please

Within ten minutes, someone favorited what you wrote. When you went to check your notifications, you were surprised to find that the person who liked it wasn’t anyone you knew personally, or the bot. When you tapped on the profile, you felt a pit in your stomach. You reminded yourself that you should really make your account private, simply to avoid such a bizarre, anxiety-ridden feeling. You hadn’t thought anyone would actually try and contact you. Why would they?

You breathed a sigh of relief when you pulled up the account, which was nothing too crazy. The impression you got from the very limited information you had (considering the person’s avi was the Gucci logo, which elicited a massive eye roll) was that it was most likely a man, probably in his twenties or thirties. Very into bitcoin. Very into US stocks. Very into retweeting disparaging things about Harvard and trashing various platforms’ “algos” and other things that were totally irrelevant to your life.

The one thing that broke up the monotony of it all?

The Beastie Boys.

Oh, and Wu-Tang Clan.

Whoever this dude was, he had a Spotify account, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. He had a penchant for screenshotting whatever (predominantly 90s of any and every genre, and occasionally EDM) song he was listening to and posting it for all the world (aka his 35 followers) to see.

As if anyone cared. You couldn’t be too hard on him, though, not when you had done the same thing on your own account multiple times, and continued to do so. You actually had similar taste in music, which you thought was always a fun commonality to share.

Just as soon as you started to lurk the profile, you got a message in your inbox. It happened so fast that it almost made you jump, like he knew you were looking at it.

I would have to agree. They’re pretty awful, but definitely not worth the mental breakdown.

Then, a few seconds later…

Kendall doesn’t seem so bad, though.

You weren't planning on responding. It was rare that you had any interaction with strangers on the internet. It wasn’t like you were avidly against it or anything. You just…never really found the time. But it was 4:30 in the morning, you were wide awake, your tv wasn't working, and you wanted something to keep your mind occupied.

You got home from your sister’s wedding at around midnight, but you felt too wired to sleep. It had been a nice evening overall. The ceremony was beautiful, the reception was fun. You were beyond happy for your sister and her now husband, who you suspected she was going to marry for years now. There was drinking and dancing and you saw family members you actually liked, family members you hadn’t seen in years. Your mom had flown in from California. Even though you spoke on the phone nearly everyday, getting the chance to actually see her was always wonderful.

Conversely, Aria’s wedding had forced you to come into contact with someone you hadn’t seen in years, someone you hated more than anyone else in the world.

Well, maybe that was dramatic. There were worse people in the world. But you did hate him. A lot.

Your father.

Crazy, how just one drop could poison the well, ruining a perfectly good night.

You shoved those thoughts down, instead redirecting your focus towards the weird little man on your phone. You decided you had reached your allotted crying limit for that week.

You both replied at the same time.

Really? I get weird vibes off him.

Not to make you feel weird or anything, but I'm scrolling through your tweets and you listen to some pretty good music.

That did make you feel weird—but a good weird, an amused sort of weird. This random person was scrolling through your tweets, developing a positive opinion of you based on your disdain for the Roys and the your penchant for blaring the Blood Sugar Sex Magik album in your car on the way to work. You had stalked his profile too, so you supposed it was only fair to allow him to do the same.

Wait. Weird how?

Oh thanks. I know no one really cares what music I’m listening to but idk, I just like posting about it.

I’m the same. It’s like, I like my music so I want other people to like it, too.

Weird how though??

Meanwhile everyone else is just listening to *their* music, thinking the exact same thing.

I can’t really pinpoint it. It just seems like there’s more than meets the eye with him, but maybe not in a good way. Like there’s a lot going on under the surface that we don’t get to see.

I get the impression that he has a lot to hide, you know what I mean?

Hah. I think you’re dead on with that one actually.

I read somewhere that he’s a pretty private person, which I think is kind of understandable all things considered.

Yeah, maybe. I don’t know, for some reason I get this weird feeling that in a few years it’s gonna come out that he’s done some seriously bad things that got covered up because he has money.

It’s one thing to keep things to yourself, but I think there’s more to it than that.

There’s private and then there’s secretive, if that makes any sense.

Yeah, I get that.

But what do I know? This is coming from someone that posts their every waking moment on twitter. I’m mostly anonymous on here, but maybe I need to “take a page out of his book” or whatever.

I would prefer not to, though.

Too complicated?

Yeah. And bleak.

At least, that’s how it seems to me.

His replies had been coming in fast, but this one took a bit longer to arrive. You could see the little dots indicating that he was typing pop up and disappear a few times, like he kept writing something and deleting it. He seemed to actually care about your reaction to what he was saying, trying to come up with the right thing to say next...which was odd.

Then again, you kind of did, too.

Wow. Tell me how you really feel.

I’m not normally this judgmental. It’s just with that family in particular. They’re so oversaturated in the press. Maybe he’s a nice guy. He clearly has some depth to him. Who knows, though? I’ll never actually meet him lol.

I mean, not that I should care what some random on twitter thinks of me anyway. But idk.

“Some random” lol. Thanks for that.

I do have a name, you know.

What is it, then? I MUST know.

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

Post Malone??? Is that u????

Lol Jesus Christ. No.

Jesus Christ???? I didn’t know you had a secret twitter. Do you have a finsta, too?

Alright smartass. My name is Kendall, ironically.

Also, what’s a finsta?

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, though. If he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

Wait, how old are you?

My guess? Probably older than you. Actually, definitely older than you.

Oh???

But not by much.

Wow. Very elusive. Are you sure you’re not Kendall Roy?

Again, you were left waiting. The dots popped up and disappeared. Once, twice, three times.

I could only dream of being that handsome and powerful. But no, I’m not. Sadly.

Lol I like how you had to think about it.

I was sending an e-mail for work, geez. I’m not obligated to respond to you immediately.

At 4 in the morning?

You must be a workaholic.

Oh, you have no idea…

You wondered if he was bored, too. He seemed genuinely interested in keeping the conversation going.

Usually I don’t like to give out my info but you seem fairly non-threatening. So, ballpark estimate, I’m somewhere in my late thirties.

It probably wasn’t the brightest idea to be talking to a stranger who claimed to be in his late thirties, which was, in fact, older than you. He easily could’ve been lying. Maybe he was twenty, maybe he was eighty. There was no way for you to know definitively what was real and what wasn’t, unless you did a bit of digging. You didn’t have much to go on, but you supposed it didn’t matter. You were just talking, and this little conversation would likely end within the next twenty minutes or so, when you finally willed yourself to shut your eyes and go to sleep.

What are you doing up so late, anyway? Assuming you’re in the US. You did mention that it was 4am.

Ah. So he was having trouble sleeping, too.

For context, I’m on the east coast, where it is also 4am. Which is ungodly late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.

I’m on the east coast, too.

You’re just as crazy as I am, then.

Speak for yourself, House of Gucci.

Lol wow you really are kind of a smartass, aren’t you?

I’m in New York.

No way! I’m in New York too. Upstate or downstate?

I don’t like giving out my info, remember?

You just opted to tell me you lived in New York completely unprovoked but ok.

And you’re right. You are older than me. "Ballpark” I’m in my twenties. But it’s nice to hear that you’re thirty and flirty and thriving.

Wow. I would love to be even just one of those things right now.

You frowned at that.

Aw. I can relate.

Well, maybe we can commiserate together.

Maybe tomorrow? I really need to try and sleep. I have work in the morning.

I kind of figured. What do you do?

Damn. He really did want to keep this going, what with completely ignoring everything you just said about wanting to go to sleep.

I don’t like giving out my info, REMEMBER?

Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’ll let you sleep. Sorry if this was weird, I’m at the airport right now and my flight got delayed. I wanted to kill some time and you seemed like you might be cool, so

Have a good night, alright?

You smiled to yourself, leaning back into your cocoon of pillows. Texting had actually made your eyes a little tired.

You too.

As you set your phone down on your nightstand, you saw it light up one more time. You wanted to groan. Was this guy seriously trying to keep it going even after you said goodnight? Were you going to have to block him?

But no. It was just a notification that he had followed you.

“Cute,” you mumbled to yourself, following him back.

If this weird, pleasant little interaction was any reflection of what “internet friends” might be like, maybe you would leave your account public.

…for now.

#kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #succession

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remuslupinschocolat3 · 20 days

Text

My stardew valley headcanons because no one can stop me!!!!!!!

Part one

In alphabetical order

Abigail:

💎Bisexual

💎she/they

💎Hates children

💎In a Polycule with Sam and Sebastian

💎Shares a braincell with Sam

💎smoked weed once with Sebastian and threw up afterwards

💎has random beef with Haley that Haley isn't aware of

💎gets piercings just to spite her dad

💎was only good in English class in highschool

💎regrets being on 2020 alt tiktok

💎 secretly vandalizes their father's yoba shrine (he thinks it's Sebastian doing it)

💎their gay awakening was Keira Knightley in Pirates of the Caribbean (she just like me fr)

Alex

🏈the definition of comphet

🏈himbo

🏈gay man/lesbian alliance with Haley

🏈his first crush was the team captain of an Opponent's school gridball team

🏈 doesn't drink alcohol because he's scared to be like his father

🏈he had a pathetic crush on Elliot when Elliot first moved to the valley

🏈has a bottle of the perfume his mother used to wear and sprays it on his pillow when he's sad

🏈used to go to a gym in Zu City but stopped after a boy there asked him out

🏈dated Haley in highschool for half a year until both of them came out to the other in hopes to let the other down gently

Caroline

🍃not a single thought behind those eyes

🍃fell out of love with Pierre ten years ago

🍃grows marijuana plants in her tea house (have you seen her two heart event?)

🍃dyed her hair green once when she was 15 and never tried a different color again

🍃has a few secret tattoos

🍃the necklace she wears is a gift by Rasmodios

🍃best friends with Jodi and Robin

🍃loves to gossip, she knows everyone's business

🍃almost became an almond mom but stopped before it could affect Abigail in the long run

🍃she has no enemies, everyone loves her but hates her husband

Clint (it's red cus he's a red flag)

🔨4chan user

🔨incel

🔨used to tell his mom to make him a sandwich

🔨called his parents by their first names

🔨knows the Irish dance (I don't know what it's called lmao)

🔨can't have friendships with women because he always thinks they fall in love with him

🔨hasn't exercised since he finished highschool

🔨stalks Emily (that's canon) (stay away from her)

🔨can you tell I hate him yet?

Demetrius

🧪is the reason his first marriage failed

🧪controlling and possessive (Maru's two heart event)

🧪so boring

🧪thinks missionary is the only way to have sex

🧪I know people headcanon him as autistic but I think he's just petty

🧪 arrogant, thinks he's smarter than everyone else because he knows science

🧪was actually an okay step father to Sebastian until Maru was born

🧪him and Robin are not compatible but neither of them want to go through a second divorce

Elliot

🦀 gay and proud

🦀in his mid thirties

🦀 can't swim

🦀 used to write star trek fanfiction as a teenager on fanfiction.net

🦀so fucking tall

🦀went through three separate gender identity crisis before realizing that he just isn't comfortable expressing himself as a stereotypical manly man

🦀demi romantic

🦀gay man/lesbian alliance with Leah

🦀sees Leah as the little sister he never had

🦀 isn't really broke, he's a trustfund baby who wanted to experience what it's like to be a starving artist (thinks it makes his art more valid)

🦀Leah beat him up when she found out

🦀 obsessed with his hair (I'm so jealous of his luscious curls 😭😭😭)

🦀so dramatic (used to be a theater kid for sure)

Emily

🔮the character I headcanon as autistic

🔮 pansexual and asexual

🔮they/she, trans

🔮dating Sandy

🔮knows everyone's zodiac signs

🔮names her plants

🔮gets the zoomies after work (at night)

🔮Haley hates it

🔮Haley's biggest supporter

🔮vegan

🔮thinks of Clint as a genuine friend (save yourself girly pop)

🔮calls Sandy the weirdest nick names "hello my cuddle bear" "it's been too long since we last saw each other my strawberry jam"

🔮suckles on Pennies (she just like me fr)

🔮reads books about crystals for hours on end, Haley has to take the book away from her and drag her to bed sometimes

🔮has befriended the junimos

🔮Sandy sells the clothes she makes

🔮hates the taste of strawberry in candy and stuff

🔮would vape if vapes existed in stardew valley but not in a I'm a thirteen year old boy way but in a I like the taste and I enjoy making smoke rings kinda way

🔮you can't tell me that she's not a pothead

🔮knows Haley is a lesbian years before her sister figures it out

🔮besties with Shane (refuses to sell him alcohol at the Stardrop saloon)

🔮gets extremely flustered around people she deems as attractive

🔮is really bad at doing her own makeup (Sandy or Haley do it for her)

🔮has a huge tattoo that covers almost her entire back

🔮her energy is contagious

🔮high School was very hard for her but college was the best time of her life

🔮wants to buzz her hair so bad but has enough restrain to keep herself from doing so

🔮loves to make cocktails (she makes Gus try them and he always loves them and puts them on his menu)

🔮makes Shane, Sandy and Haley cosplay with her (none of them want to but they can't say no when Emily looks at them with that wide eyed grin of hers)

🔮unleashed a group of rats in JoJa mart because Shane complained once (1 time) about his working conditions, the store closed for two months

🔮can you tell how much I love Emily?

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew headcanon #abigail stardew valley #alex stardew valley #caroline stardew valley #clint stardew #sdv demetrius #stardew elliott #stardew valley emily

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walks-the-ages · 6 months

Text

ah, can't find the original post to respond to it, and tumblr was refusing to let me actually post with the usual bullshit of "sorry there was an error processing your post" . anyways.

If you see a post going around about Jewish restaurants being targeted for harassment by pro-palestine protestors "solely for being Jewish", stop what you are doing and actually look up the incident in question, because that is not what happened at Goldie's restaurant!

Full article below for accessiblity, and because we all know Tumblr only looks at headlines and doesn't click links to news articles.

Long post!

Bolding is my own for emphasis.

A protest against a top Israel-born chef was called antisemitic. Staff tell a different story

Wilfred ChanFri 8 Dec 2023 16.55 GMTFirst published on Fri 8 Dec 2023 12.00 GMT

The 21-second clip went viral almost as soon as it was posted early on Sunday evening. It showed hundreds of protesters, some with Palestinian flags, united in a rhyming chant: “Goldie, Goldie, you can’t hide, we charge you with genocide!”

They were protesting outside Goldie, a vegan falafel restaurant owned by Michael Solomonov, the Israel-born celebrity chef best known for Zahav, an Israeli-themed restaurant widely considered one of the United States’ finest eateries. It was one brief stop along a march traversing Philadelphia that lasted about three hours.

Many of the protesters hadn’t even returned home from the march when the condemnations began to pour in. The Pennsylvania governor, Josh Shapiro, a Democrat, posted on X: “Tonight in Philly, we saw a blatant act of antisemitism – not a peaceful protest. A restaurant was targeted and mobbed because its owner is Jewish and Israeli. This hate and bigotry is reminiscent of a dark time in history.”

Even the White House piled on: it was “antisemitic and completely unjustifiable to target restaurants that serve Israeli food over disagreements with Israeli policy”, said the deputy press secretary, Andrew Bates. Douglas Emhoff, husband of Vice-President Kamala Harris, wrote on X that he had spoken with Solomonov and “told him @POTUS, @VP, and the entire Biden-Harris Administration will continue to have his back”.

It was the apex of a saga that has resulted in at least three workers fired from Solomonov’s restaurants over, as they see it, their pro-Palestine activism coming into conflict with their bosses’ views and policies, and at least one other worker who has resigned in protest – thrusting the renowned Israeli eateries into the thick of bitter US disagreements over the Israel-Hamas war.

The street protest against Goldie has sparked heated debate. As the war on Gaza rages on, with over 17,000 people killed in Gaza since 7 October – 70% of them women and children, according to Gaza’s health ministry – are Israel-linked businesses in the US implicated? Was Solomonov, a chef who has credited Palestinian influences in his cooking, an appropriate target?

Interviews with protesters and current and former employees at Solomonov’s restaurants paint a more complex version of events than what the video clip may have suggested. They reject the notion that Goldie was singled out because of the owners’ ethnicity, arguing that their objections stem from management using the restaurants to fundraise for Israel after 7 October in spite of worker concerns. Activists also say their protest shines a necessary spotlight on the political commitments of one of the highest-profile restaurateurs in the United States.

Tensions at work

There were political tensions simmering at Solomonov’s restaurants before Sunday’s march. The Guardian spoke to three Goldie workers who say they were fired due to their pro-Palestine advocacy: two who wore Palestinian flag pins in violation of a newly announced dress code that forbade non-Goldie branded adornments, and another who tweeted in support of Sunday’s street protest.

Their discomfort at work began following a fundraiser in October, during which Solomonov and his business partner Steve Cook announced they would donate all of the restaurant group’s profits from one day, over $100,000, to United Hatzalah, an Israeli medical non-profit that has supplied the Israel Defense Forces with protective and medical gear during the current war against Hamas.

And in early November, Solomonov’s Zahav hosted a private fundraiser by a prominent political action committee dedicated to supporting political candidates “who reflect Jewish values”. Attendees at the event, which has not been previously reported, included the Michigan governor, Gretchen Whitmer; and dozens of other pro-Israel officials and lobbyists, according to a current Zahav employee, who spoke on condition of anonymity. The employee said that in recent weeks, Solomonov had also booked and paid for multiple, lavish private dinners at Zahav for IDF members preparing to deploy to fight for Israel.

“The amount of material support that we’ve lended to pro-Israel causes and Israeli military personnel has been really discomforting,” the Zahav worker told the Guardian.

In an email to workers on Wednesday, Solomonov and Cook apologized for not communicating about their political stances with staff more directly. The pair had sought to “avoid discussing politics at work … to make everyone as comfortable as possible in the restaurant,” the owners wrote. “But perhaps we created a void that had the opposite effect. For that, we are sorry.”

The fraught politics of food

The protest and its fallout have produced the biggest controversy ever faced by Solomonov, one of America’s most prominent Israeli cultural figures and someone who for years has cast himself as a culinary bridge between Israel, Palestine, and the United States.

Solomonov’s brother, a soldier in the Israel Defense Forces, was killed in 2003 by Hezbollah snipers; Solomonov wrote in his first cookbook, Zahav, that the tragedy made him briefly consider joining Israel’s army. Instead, he decided to channel his emotion into food, something he found allowed him to “expose people to a side of Israel that had nothing to do with politics”. That led him and Cook, an investment banker-turned-restaurateur, to found Zahav in 2008, followed by other prominent Israeli-themed eateries: Dizengoff, Goldie, K’Far, and Laser Wolf, under a restaurant group called CookNSolo. In 2017, Israel’s ministry of tourism named him a culinary ambassador.

The restaurants have never been completely free from controversy. Debates over the origins and ownership of Middle Eastern food have raged for years; many culinary experts have argued that Palestinian contributions to Mediterranean cuisine have been used by Israeli chefs without sufficient respect or acknowledgement. Yet while Solomonov and Cook have always branded their food as Israeli, their menus and cookbooks cite Palestinian influences on many dishes. For years, Solomonov also spoke of his friendship with the Palestinian writer and cookbook author Reem Kassis – though the two are no longer speaking, according to the New York Times.

But the conflicts aren’t just over cultural appropriation. They’re about “the way Israel as a state has weaponized food against the Palestinian people”, says the Palestinian American chef Reem Assil, who owns Reem’s, a Arab street food joint in San Francisco. “Even before these last 60 days, Israel has restricted what Gazans can access in terms of food and water. They target bakeries, they target farms, they target markets. They uproot our olive trees, they make it illegal for us to forge our own ingredients, like za’atar.” The UN warned last month that Israel’s military operations in Gaza had put residents there at “immediate” risk of starvation.

A controversial fundraiser

Since the 7 October attacks, Solomonov has publicly sought to caveat his support for Israel. “I personally believe in the right of Palestinians to have their own state, and the right for self-determination, and I don’t deny those things,” he said at an event last month in New Jersey, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer. “And I believe the Israeli government oftentimes does things that I would not do at all … and it can be quite damaging.”

But internally, Solomonov and Cook were using their restaurants to steer resources toward Israel.

On 10 October, Solomonov and Cook announced a fundraiser that would donate all the profits across CookNSolo restaurants on 12 October to United Hatzalah. “It is not associated with any military,” the restaurant group assured staff in a Slack message – something that simply wasn’t true, workers soon realized with alarm.

Goldie staff were caught off guard because they considered the restaurant a politically progressive institution. The vegan falafel restaurant proudly displayed an LGBTQ flag and Black Lives Matter flag on its wall. Many of the workers were young and identified as queer. There was a casual dress code: Noah Wood, a 25-year-old who uses they/them pronouns, said they did shifts at Goldie while wearing hats with slogans supporting indigenous rights.

The night before CookNSolo’s fundraiser, Goldie’s store manager at the time, 24-year-old Sophie Hamilton, says she discovered public videos by United Hatzalah about how the non-profit supplied protective gear to IDF soldiers. She rushed off an email to Goldie’s general manager, Emma Richards, saying she felt “deeply betrayed and misled”. “I feel like I’ve been left with no choice but to refuse to come to work tomorrow unless [CookNSolo] commits to also raising donations for a Palestinian humanitarian organization, of course with no connection to any military.”

But Hamilton’s suggestion was ignored, and Richards simply told her someone would cover her shift the next day.

When Hamilton returned to work, she decided to keep working but while wearing a small Palestinian flag pin. “There’s just a point where you can’t leave your humanity at the door,” she said. No customers complained, but two weeks later, management announced a new rule: staff were not to wear stickers, pins, or patches that were not Goldie-branded.

Wood, the other server, started wearing a Palestinian flag pin in open defiance of the new rule. Another worker, June, 24, wore a green shirt, black pants, and a red bandana – a reference to the colors of Palestinian flag.

On 15 November, the restaurant asked Hamilton to send Wood home for violating the dress code. Hamilton refused, and the next day they were both fired, Hamilton for “poor performance for failing to enforce the uniform policy”. Wood was not given any official reason, they say.

In the Wednesday email to staff, the owners wrote: “We recognize that people have different views on the war between Israel and Hamas, and we respect your rights to your own views. Many of our guests have passionate feelings about the current conflict and, knowing that not all of you feel the same way, our approach is to simply avoid discussing politics at work.”

They did not provide details on the firings beyond writing: “It is also important for you to hear directly from us that we have never terminated employees based on their support for Palestine.”

The owners added: “We think it’s important to say that our support of Israel is not unqualified. We have plenty of criticisms, particularly in the way that the government has stymied the prospects for Palestinian statehood in recent years.”

In a statement shared with the Guardian, United Hatzalah’s senior vice-president for international operations, Michael Brown, said that the nonprofit and the IDF “often train together, especially when conducting mass casualty training drills, or search and rescue training drills in order to hone our skills and help the IDF sharpen theirs, as well as to allow for an easier flow of collaborative life saving efforts should the need ever arise in the field, similar to what happened during October 7th.”

The restaurant group declined to respond to a detailed list of questions by the Guardian about the fired workers, but a spokeswoman said in a statement: “CookNSolo exists to create community through food. We are committed to fostering an open, safe, and supportive workplace for all of our employees who have varying backgrounds and political views. Like many hospitality companies, we have standard policies for our employees, which we consistently enforce.” Solomonov declined, through a representative, a direct request for an interview.

Justin Sadowsky, an attorney at the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a civil rights non-profit, says the firings of Goldie workers are the first time he’s heard of restaurant workers allegedly fired for supporting Palestine since 7 October. “We’ve seen it in hospitals, we’ve seen it at large corporations, we’ve seen it in law firms, but it’s sort of spilling into everywhere,” he said. The organization says it’s received a “staggering” 2,171 requests for help and reports of bias in the 57 days since the Israel-Hamas war began, equalling nearly half of the total complaints it handled in all of 2022.

Call for a boycott

Meanwhile, CookNSolo’s fundraiser for United Hatzalah had caught the attention of local activists in a group called the Philadelphia Free Palestine Coalition. The activists weren’t in touch with the restaurant workers, but drew the same conclusion: by funneling restaurant proceeds toward a group associated with the IDF, CookNSolo was complicit in Israel’s war crimes.

In mid-October, the activists called for a boycott. Natalie Abulhawa, a Palestinian American organizer at the Free Palestine Coalition, helped write an Instagram post for the boycott that named three of Solomonov’s restaurants – Goldie, Zahav, and Laser Wolf – as well as a number of other Middle Eastern restaurants in the city. “Restaurants and businesses claiming to sell ‘Israeli’ food, fruits, vegetables, and products are part of an ongoing colonial campaign of stealing, appropriating, and profiting off of Palestinian food and culture as a means of erasing Palestinian existence,” the call read.

The boycott made waves in the food world, and Solomonov addressed it at a closed-door event in November at a New Jersey Jewish Community Center. Speaking to the crowd of several hundred, he called the boycott misguided, adding that it wasn’t affecting his sales, according to the Inquirer. While acknowledging that “part of Israeli food is Palestinian influenced”, he argued that any suggestion that Israeli food was stolen from Palestinians was akin to saying Israelis “don’t have a right to be there”. Solomonov added that his restaurants credited Palestinian influences on their menus and claimed Zahav imported more Palestinian wines than any other Philadelphia eatery.

But privately, Solomonov and Cook were using their restaurants to platform Israel’s war effort. On 1 November, Zahav hosted a fundraiser by a major political action committee called Democratic Jewish Outreach Pennsylvania, whose guests included Whitmer and as many as 80 other pro-Israel officials and lobbyists, according to the unnamed Zahav employee. “It was an explicitly pro-Israel reception and speeches made were about that support,” the employee said.

The employee said that Whitmer, who delivered a keynote, opened with the Jewish expression of solidarity “Am Yisrael Chai”, or “the people of Israel live”, and called for providing material support to Israel, and that Solomonov, who was in the audience, was afterward “emphatically talking and thanking all of the attendees”.

In the following weeks, the employee became even more disturbed as Solomonov hosted and paid for at least two private dinners at Zahav for small groups of Israelis, including soldiers who were preparing to fly home to fight the Gaza war. Solomonov explained with “a level of reverence” that the restaurant would cover the bill because of the diners’ roles in the Israeli military, the employee says.

These events, in addition to the firings of Goldie staff, have made many of Zahav’s staff deeply uncomfortable. “Most of the employees here are not particularly interested in the support of Israel,” the employee said, but the workers fear retaliation if they speak out. CookNSolo declined to comment on the events at Zahav.

A clip goes viral

Pennsylvania’s Jewish and Muslim communities have been on edge since the Israel-Hamas war began. On Monday, a Jewish daycare in Philadelphia reported that vandals had spray-painted “Free Palestine” and other graffiti on its windows. On Tuesday, a pair of students sued the University of Pennsylvania, claiming it had become an “incubation lab for virulent anti-Jewish hatred”. Last week, a South Philadelphia mosque reported that it had been vandalized by anti-Muslim graffiti. And last month, a man was arrested for pointing a gun and yelling racial slurs against a group of pro-Palestine demonstrators at the state’s capitol.

The Goldie protest also followed a growing number of incidents that have entangled Middle Eastern food businesses. Palestinian restaurants such as New York City’s Ayat have reported being flooded with negative reviews since the war began; last month, an ex-Obama aide was charged with a hate crime for harassing a halal food street vendor.

But Goldie’s attempts to head off pro-Palestinian activism were futile.

On 3 December, the Free Palestine Coalition led hundreds of protesters in an evening of marches around Philadelphia to renew calls for a ceasefire. Starting from Rittenhouse Square in Philly’s Center City neighborhood, the march took a wrong turn, which brought it past Goldie, says Abulhawa. The encounter with the falafel restaurant wasn’t planned, she says, “but we ran with it”.

June, who is Jewish, was one of the employees working inside Goldie that night, and said the protest – which lasted just a few minutes – was completely peaceful: “There was nothing violent, no hint of antisemitism.” The store was devoid of guests when the marchers arrived, though one customer came in partway through to pickup an online order and displayed no reaction. June even thought about going outside to join the protest, but thought better of it and instead quietly chanted along to the slogans from inside the store.

Someone placed two small stickers on Goldie’s door and window. One read, “Free Palestine,” and another contained a statistic about the number of children Israel had killed in Gaza (Abulhawa says that whoever placed the stickers were not asked to do so by protest organizers). One protester briefly posed in front of the door with a Palestine flag. Then the protest shuffled on.

A few minutes later, a user named Jordan Van Glish posted a 21-second clip of the protest to X, where it quickly went viral. Comments flooded in: “Once again proving that this is about hating Jews,” one user wrote. Stop Antisemitism, a prominent pro-Israel group, posted that it was a “failure” that no anti-riot police were dispatched and no protesters were arrested.

But Philadelphia’s police force told the Guardian that officers observing the march “did not see, hear, or record any threats to persons inside or outside Goldie”, and the department received “no 911 calls or complaints” during the event.

Some marchers have acknowledged how the clip, taken out of context, could have been misinterpreted. “I’d say in hindsight, maybe [the organizers] should have spent another minute explaining why we were stopping there,” says Joe Piette, a photographer who joined the protest. “It would have been better to explain some of the details of the owner of that restaurant. Our mistake was not explaining it on the spot.”

June felt that frustration when they got home that night and saw the clip gaining traction. “So I felt like I should give the context that was missing from that tweet,” they said. June published a post explaining that the restaurant group had raised money for Israel-linked causes and punished pro-Palestine employees. “If you don’t want to be directly funding genocide, you should probably stay away from Goldie” and other CookNSolo restaurants, they wrote.

On Monday, June got a phone call while on the bus to work: they were fired as well. The manager gave no explanation, but June didn’t need to ask why. “Honestly, I didn’t really feel that bad or surprised,” they said. “I had no pride in this job.”

High-profile officials have continued to argue that the protesters were motivated by antisemitism. Governor Shapiro doubled down on his tweet after visiting Goldie and meeting with Solomonov on Wednesday. “A mob protested a restaurant simply because it’s owned by a Jewish person,” the governor claimed. “That is the kind of antisemitic tropes that we saw in 1930s Germany, and it’s the kind of thing we should not tolerate.” In a statement to the Guardian, his office reiterated: “This was not a peaceful protest”.

Two days after the march, Tess Rauscher, a 25-year-old barista at the CookNSolo-owned Israeli cafe K’Far, resigned, citing the company’s fundraiser and firing of Goldie workers, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer. “It was these actions, not the identity of the owner, that changed the nature of my job,” she said.

This article was amended on 8 December 2023 to delete an incorrect reference to a manager taking down an LGBTQ+ flag. Also references to Governor Josh Shapiro attending an event at Zahav on 1 November were deleted. Governor Shapiro’s office have said he was not at the event.

[end article]

TL;DR:

Goldie's restaurant and 2 other restaurants owned by the same famous Israeli chef were part of a general boycott starting in October.

The famous israeli chef, Michael Solomonov, has been directly funding the Israeli military with fundraisers at his various owned resteraunts (including donating over $100,000 in a single day)

Michael Solomonov has also hosted multiple, lavish "going away parties" free of charge for people deploying to go fight in Gaza (you know, just, going on over to help commit genocide!)

Multiple staff were fired for being pro-palestine, including for wearing pins with the Palestinian flag, or wearing the colors of the palestinian flag to work.

June, A jewish staff member who was working when the protestors arrived outside the restaurant, did not feel threatened in any way, affirmed it was a completely peaceful protest, and actually considered stopping their work to go out and join the march, but ultimately decided to stay for the rest of their shift and quietly chant along with the protestors. They were fired a few days later, and not given any explanation.

#long post #bold text #large text #free palestine #palestine #israel #free gaza #michael solomonov #zionism #anti-zionism #signal boost

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theanonwriter · 1 year

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friends close, enemies closer: part 1

A/N: hey guys!! i’m starting this JJ fic bc i am currently obsessed with outerbanks and wanna live my hot girl fantasy! join me if you want ;) LOTS OF LOVE!

Summary: When your parents unexpectedly become wealthy from good investments, you're forced to leave your old life in the Cut and move to Figure Eight. Right when you finally start to move on (thanks to the help of your best friend, Sarah Cameron), your old friends are suddenly forced into your life again. Getting comfortable with them means discovering their new lives and making amends for the past. And just when things couldn't possibly get any more complicated, you have to deal with your lingering feelings with a certain hot-headed blond.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: just swearing for this one!

You hated lunch at Kildare Preparatory Academy. It wasn’t that it was bad or anything, but it was certainly not good. There was no added butter, no oil, and obviously no love. It all tasted like it would have been sold downtown, at one of the new juice bars or vegan cafes.

Sarah didn’t seem to mind, though. She was digging into her panini and pasta salad, gossiping with you as you sat at a table in the sun. You listened in silence, letting the warmth cover your bare legs. You were glad you met her. There was always a cliche in movies that the pretty, popular girl bullied the introverted new girl. But that wasn't true. Sarah accepted you into her circle. She invited you to parties, showed you the cool way to plait your hair, and made Kooks see you as one of them, rather than a Pogue whose parents hit it big.

Even though moving schools during freshman year was hard, it was moments like this that made you glad that your family made it. Kildare County High School was a mess, falsely beautified by newly lacquered gym floors and covered in finger-print-smudged windows. Kildare Prep was gorgeous, wrapped in ivy with Tiffany blue glass stained windows. You sighed contentedly and opened your eyes again to find Sarah staring at you.

“I have something to tell you.” She announced, looking like she would burst. You raise your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to spill whatever it was that had been weighing on her mind. “I started seeing someone.”

You wanted to pretend that you were shocked, but you weren't. Sarah had a bad history with men. The bad part being how fast she went through them.

“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Sarah, another one?’ I know! But I actually really like him. He’s not like anyone else I know.”

You grin at your friend, seeing the blush rise on her cheeks. You send her a knowing smile. Witnessing Sarah giddy with excitement was a special kind of happiness. “Who is it?”

Her smile faded slightly, and she took a deep breath. “Well, it’s- hm. It’s…John Routledge.” You open your mouth to burst in, but she quickly talks over you. “I know! I know you know each other, and I know you’re gonna be so pissed, but it’s different! He is so sweet, and he just understands me, like everything that's going on with Rafe and Dad." She pauses briefly and searches your eyes. "You know I’m right. You would know better than anyone.”

You knew all too well. Before your family earned big on investments your dad made, you used to live right next to John B. He, along with Pope Heyward and JJ Maybank used to be your best friends. You spent all day together, fishing and surfing, getting so sunburnt that you couldn't walk. They were always there for you, no matter what.

After you moved, it was radio silence from them. Not that you wanted it to be, but they never reached out after you left their side of the island. Ever since then, you became a stranger to them.

“Sarah.” Is all you say, mouth left hanging open. You can't help but stare at her.

“Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.” She deadpans, a slight smirk extending across her face. “Plus, tell me that you never miss them. This could be good for you!”

“And if you break up?”

“Then nothing will change! You don’t talk at all. Please, Y/N, don’t be mad at me.”

Her reaction takes you back. Being mad never even crossed your mind. Shock that she would even hang out with Pogues, yes, but never anger.

“Mad? I’m not mad. I’m…I want to be happy for you. It might just take me some time to warm up to them again.” You reply, stealing a piece of pasta salad off Sarah’s plate with your fingers. You scowl as you taste the vinegar, far too strong for your liking.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us this weekend? Just to get you comfortable with them again. I've never met his friends, and I want you there. You’ll see, he’s so mature now. Plus, he’s hot too!”

Hot? That was never the word you would associate with John B. Nerdy and kinda bashful maybe, but definitely not the "hot" boy in the group.

“Ew! If I say yes, will you stop bugging me about a boy I grew up with, who at one point was practically my brother?”

She laughs out loud, arms spread wide and face set towards the sun. “Yes! I swear, I’ll be quiet forever!”

You grin at how happy she is. She looks so free like this, smiling at the sun with her golden hair practically blinding you. “I don't want you to be quiet forever. Just for now. And maybe for the next week."

The ride back home was slow. Sometimes, you wondered what life would have been like if you stayed in the Cut. Would your car be packed full of your old friends? Dopey boys changing the station, or a certain blond trying to light up in your front seat? Would your parents even be able to afford a second car at all? You feel like a loser thinking back on stuff that you can’t change now, but you can’t help it. What Sarah said to you weighed heavy on your mind today. What happened to the friendship you had with them?

You pulled into your lengthy driveway, spotting your brother's dusty car sitting in the garage. It was the end of May, so he would be coming back to the island soon. You missed him so much, it physically hurt you.

With him home, there was only one thing left to wait for: summer.

As much as you needed your days free, along with the ability to call your friends whenever to go get ice cream, summer only led to what you dreaded: college applications.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life. How the hell would you? You were still a child, how could you figure out what you were supposed to do for the rest of your life? With your family's new wealth, your parents were very stubborn about the fact that you and your brother would go to a prestigious school where you would get a top-notch education.

However, that was not something you were interested in. Your brother went to school in Indiana, at Notre Dame University. They expected you to follow him.

You wanted to stay local. Not commuter close, per se, but close enough that you could drive him if you needed more contacts or a new prescription. You couldn't stand to be far from the water, the only place that brought you stability and comfort.

But your parents insisted that you would leave and see what else there was. So you would.

You parked your car and jogged up the stairs, kicking your shoes off and hanging up your backpack before heading to the outdoor shower to change into your wetsuit. In the warmer months, you taught younger kids how to surf in the afternoon. You loved the challenge of trying to get kiddos to not be spooked by the waves and going under.

The beach had been the first place you and the Pogues had for yourself. Your parents were never there and there were no concerns about not having enough money to fill the boat with gas. Your surfboard was second-hand and coated in wax, but it was yours and that was enough.

You used to all have matching anklets, constructed from pieces of sea junk and old rope found in John B’s surf shack. You lost yours swimming with Sarah the year before, but you wish you still had it. It was one of the only reminders you had of them.

You changed quickly and headed to the beach. Lessons were exhausting, but the little girl that you taught today made you smile. She was six years old, and her name was Penny. She had long, blonde hair and shiny blue eyes, just like she was meant for the coast. She looked so similar to JJ, who was your absolute rock during your girlhood.

He was always at the beach at the same time you were. You never talked to him and he never even looked at you. He made you feel like there was never anything even there between you two, which hurt you more than you cared to acknowledge. Yes, you two had grown apart. But to act like a stranger? There was a point in your life where you would call JJ your brother, your best friend. Now you were nobody.

He was with John B and Pope, laughing and chilling on their boards in the water. Every now and then, you could see Pope splash at his friends, rolling his eyes when they said something idiotic. When a wave came by, they rode it together. You constantly saw them chuckling when they wiped out and help each other cough salt water out of their lungs.

When John B caught your eye, he smiled a bit and waved. He always either nodded or half-smiled, but a wave was foreign to you. You grinned back shyly, unsure of how to respond. When the other two boys looked over at you, you suddenly felt like a target.

JJ did not seem as forgiving as John B. His eyes narrowed at you, scoffing a bit and mumbling something before he turned back to the group.

Pope smirked at his comment, but John B did not seem impressed. You watched him yell at his best friend, and though you couldn't hear what he said over the waves, you could guess it wasn't nice.

The fact that you knew they were not only making fun of you but arguing because of you, made you uneasy. The last thing you wanted was to create a rift in the friend group, as you knew how much they all depended on each other. You glanced around for Kie, but you couldn't find her.

You guys had kept in touch when you both moved, but you never were the best of friends. You spoke at parties and occasionally you saw her strolling the boardwalk, but you never hung out. If you were honest, you were a bit jealous of her. Why wouldn't you be? She still had them.

Growing up together as the only girls in a group of boys, you constantly were pitted against each other. Always being compared over everything, especially your looks, became tiring for both you. It wasn't either of your faults, but it created a barrier between the two of you.

Soon enough, the class was over, and you could flee the beach. You practically ran home, desperate for a shower and dying to call Sarah and tell her what happened.

The phone rang twice before she picked up the call.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

You switched your board from under your left arm to your right, and readjusted your phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to tell you what just happened because I’m like, kinda geeked.”

You described the situation to her, breaking in the middle to let Sarah ask her most pressing question: Which board shorts was John B wearing? The blue ones with the suns or the stripes?

“Well, I’m glad he stuck up for you. I’m confused though. I've heard that JJ was nice. Maybe he was having a bad day? Or maybe he wasn't even talking about you.”

You puff out your cheeks and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know man, he seemed pretty pissed at me.”

“Well, there's nothing you can do about it now. Hey, are you coming to the club tonight? There's that barbeque for Memorial Day that my parents are making me go to.” Sarah asked, shutting the door to her closet and walking down the hallway. You heard Ward in the background questioning her, but she muted and gave you the "one-sec" motion before she answered him.

You texted her that you were gonna hang up, but that your parents were also forcing you to go so you could suffer together. You made a fart noise into the speaker before you pressed the little red button, and laughed to yourself at the thought of Sarah hearing that as she squabbled with her dad.

By the time you made it to the club, Sarah had already finished her food. She rolled her eyes as she saw you speedwalk to the table with your plate in hand. She took a long sip of her lemonade as she examined you up and down. “Well, at least you look good.”

“Shut up. I had work,” you reply, sliding into the chair next to hers and placing a napkin on your lap. “Plus, most of the food was gone. There was like, nothing left.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have been late then! I don’t know, just a thought.” Sarah mocked, laughing at your side-eye. “Hey, real talk though. I need some advice.”

“What?” You ask, covering your mouth with your hand as you chowed down on your pulled pork sandwich.

“Well, John B said that when we all hang out Kie is gonna come. And it’s not that I don’t wanna see her, it's just that- well, I guess I don't wanna see her.”

“Why?”

You knew why. Everyone knew why. You really hoped their beef wouldn't make the reunion any more awkward than it already would be.

“It ended so badly between us. She literally left school because of me. I was such a bitch.” Sarah sighed, pushing some of her golden hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You laughed, raising your eyebrows at her. “Sarah, be real. Do you think he would invite her if she was gonna make it a big deal?”

She cocked her head to the side, eyes searching for something on the pristine golf course before shaking her head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Exactly. You worry too much. If I can do it, you can too. My situation is worse, I’d say.”

Sarah giggled and drained the rest of her drink. “Yeah, probably. Hey, are you seriously okay about hanging with them? I know it might be a little awkward.”

Honestly, you didn't want to go back to them. It would be painful, to hear their inside jokes that you no longer had any idea about and re-acquainting yourself with the life that could have been yours. As much as you loved the life your parents has built for you, there were times that you missed the easygoing nature of the Cut and evenings at the Chateau with Big John.

“It’ll be more than a little awkward at first. I mean, JJ can’t even look at me and Pope can’t help but to laugh at JJ’s snide comments. But I’ll do it for you.”

“What do you remember about them? JJ and Pope?” Sarah asks, pulling her cardigan tighter around her tan shoulders as the wind started to wind up.

“Well, Pope is a genius. Always has been. Kind of a suck-up, but that’s just him. He’ll always help out if he can, and he’s super genuine. I honestly don’t think there's a bad bone in his body.” You stop and take a deep breath. You didn’t really like to allow yourself to think of them too often. “And JJ, he’s-”

“You used to like him, didn’t you? I feel like I remember you saying that.”

You instantly blushed at Sarah's words. You had drunkenly told her that one night during one of your “ladies' nights”. In other words, you each stole a bottle of wine from your parents and got wine drunk.

“Well, yeah kinda. I guess. It was strange. He was my best friend. He was always there for me, especially when my dad was going through it. We were similar in a lot of ways. He was proud and courageous. He taught me how to surf on a board he stole from a random tourist. He said the most out-of-pocket shit, but somehow when he says it, it’s just funny. He’s so fucking funny.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. When Sarah notices, she grabs your hand.

“Sorry if that was too much, we can stop. I know it’s hard for you.”

You watch the sun disappear under the water, the sky filling with oranges and light pinks while the steady May breeze brushes over your skin. You felt Sarah's head lean on your shoulder, and you placed yours on top of her own.

“You are the best person I could have ever hoped would come into my life. I love you.” Sarah sighed, feeling the smile grow on her face from where she was propped on your shoulder.

“Love you more.” You replied back, watching your father play golf with other men of the club as you soaked up the lays rays of the holiday sun.

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

Note

links to all the crit dramas? plz? pretty pretty plz? with plzes on top?

Bestie that is a BIG ask and I did not keep up with all the links for all of these (nor would it be feasible to link all of the wank that happened in some cases, and I think in other cases, it would be poor form). But here’s a rundown in (to the best of my memory) chronological order.

Poor wet cat failed pacifists Cas

I think this one may have more context than I know—it's a fairly common motif anyway and has been for years. But the disk horse was reignited at some point because Courtney Queermania said that Dean is, in fact, willing to be inconvenienced by Cas. This did not sit well with anti-dean destiels, who went on the post to tell Courtney they are wrong about everything because *looks at notes* Cas was dedicated to pacifism and Dean forced him to be an evil killer or some other made up nonsense. Dean also forced Cas to fall from heaven and poor bumbling billion year old baby Cas can't even take a shit without Dean's say so, so everything is always Dean's fault and he can't even be grateful and is mean and evil and probably abusive too etc etc. Funny stuff from people who ship Dean and Cas. Btw. Elements of this camp had been sending Courtney hate mail for months before this for daring to post a poll featuring canonical events that occur in the actual show.

Deangirl Uquiz

In April, I made a 50-question True/False uquiz called "How sus do you look to a deanfan (me)?" and said you were sus if you got anything less than like an 80 or something. It was supposed to be a silly, tongue-in-cheek shitpost. I did most of my fandom interaction over on @i-make-fun-of-spn-characters at the time, but intentionally did NOT post this uquiz over there (to a much larger audience) because the uquiz I'd made was meant for a small group of like-minded mutuals and followers who would actually understand the context and find it amusing.

Well. It ended up spreading.

Deancrits got ahold of it and were very very mad that I dared to say things like, "Dean is not largely responsible for Sam and Cas's issues" and "People should have laughed at Dean's jokes more" and "Sam and Cas didn't actually deserve Dean's trust in season 4/6 because they were gaslight gatekeep girlbossing and could not be trusted". They grabbed my uquiz to use like a fleshlight, then discarded it on the ground and cried that it was too big around to suit their tiny wieners.

Deancrits drove their followers to brigade my post and my page. I received hate mail. People spewed venom at me directly. Worst of all, someone I don't give a damn about told me I am not funny. :(((( People pushed and made uquizes to "combat" mine. I spawned countless vagues all over spnblr--some supportive, some spewing venom about deanfans violent hatred (???) for Sam and Cas. Whole mutualships were lost between people I didn't even know over this uquiz. It was nuts out there.

I sexily evaded deancrits with my sexy ways while they chased me through the town square, trying to wrestle me into a hair shirt. I edited the uquiz with some more snark since deancrits made it all about them anyway, and changed my icon to flaming Elmo and probably changed my header to say "@ Deancrits Suck my Ass" or something I don't remember. I think I became genuinely angry at one point for about 5 minutes. After that, I remembered a deancrit casgirl took my 50 question uquiz several times in a row, shitting out their insides with rage the entire time, then posted the screenshot of their 0% to all of their followers like the trophy head of some vanquished beast, letting out a warrior howl of victory. To this day, I could not tell you why they thought this would stick it to me. However, this was so incredibly funny that to this day I still risk pissing myself laughing when I think about it. To get that 0, they also had to call Dean their poor little meow meow btw.

Vegan Sam

Every few years deancrit samgirls start this really funny disk horse about how Dean is an evil food tamperer who doesn’t respect that Sam is a vegan. This, of course, is also a violation of Sam's bodily autonomy (see section below). Victoria Angelsdean dared to make an original post stating that Sam is not, in fact, a vegan and never ever has been one. This made vegan Sam truthers really mad, and it was really funny.

Later on, because Courtney Queermania had been receiving a continuous stream of hate mail from deancrits since February, I had lodged a threat (blackmail) to make a second uquiz of evil and villainy in retaliation should any more hate mail be sent to Courtney. During the "Sam’s Super Special Most Violated Autonomy Stolen Valor" disk horse, I made good on this threat, and featured a question about whether or not Sam is a vegan, which made them mad yet again.

Also this post was fun.

Jesus!Sam

Back in April, tumblr user christ-figure-bracket took it upon themselves to create a poll tournament to determine the ultimate christ figure in fiction. Samgirls have long enjoyed paralleling Sam with Jesus, and nominated him for the tournament. In the first round, Sam was put up against Aslan from The Chronicles of Narnia—literal lion Jesus. Samgirls were determined to bring Sam victory. Much of SPNblr endeavored to assist because it would be funny if Sam won. I was a stick in the mud about it, and gave this as my reasoning:

#i’m sorry I know Sam beating Aslan would be funny but I can’t stand the sam = jesus take #worst thing sam girls ever came up with #and that’s a large hurdle to clear #not even because i have a problem with people wanting to read into things and explore symbolism #it’s because some of them get gigantic heads about it and then act like they’re being persecuted for their beliefs

Lo and behold—they proceeded to prove me right.

Very early on, some samgirls started telling people who voted against Sam to kill themselves, and complaining openly by name about fellow samgirls who didn't support their plight. However, the real trouble started when christ-figure-bracket made it clear in a humorous manner that they would prefer not to have wincest shippers in their notes. Enraged, angry wincest shippers began sending christ-figure-bracket hate mail, and adding wincest fic and art to their posts and sending it in DMs, and saying they were being persecuted for their beliefs. christ-figure-bracket could barely block them fast enough. Samgirls cleverly recollected—from a few hours before—that Sam had been placed against literal lion Jesus in the very first round. This and the wincest shipper blocking clearly implied christ-figure-bracket's barely-concealed hatred for samgirls. They were no impartial moderator—no! They intended to skew the poll to destroy Sam!

Anyway, christ-figure-bracket removed Sam from the entire tournament as a punishment. Sonic the Hedgehog ended up winning the whole thing, btw. Also I thought it was funny that Sam got kicked out so I said so in some tags. I got some absolutely batshit mail about my "unfandom behavior" and how I place myself as some "sane anti bully saint" and then the person pinned a vaguepost on their page about me choosing who to bully and who to baby for like a month.

Jesus!Sam disk horse returned for a part 2 when Courtney Queermania said something like, "Making a t-shape with your arms should be called 'Sammying'" and got this shit in their inbox:

Dean winning the best tits poll

People got really mad that Sam didn't win this. There was also a lot of arguing about "tits" versus "pecs" and whether Sam has good tits or good pecs.

Sam’s Super Special Most Violated Autonomy Stolen Valor

One day, Courtney Queermania dared to say on their own blog, that they were considering whether Sam’s autonomy actually gets violated anymore than anyone else’s, and weren't sure that it does.

This suggestion resulted in a firehose of anonymous hate mail on Courtney's blog, about what a terrible evil person Courtney is for daring to think this, about how Sam is the specialist most autonomy-less adult baby ever to exist, and how deangirls daring to possibly deny this truth or suggest anyone else ever experienced a violation of their autonomy is a violation of samgirls bodily autonomy in of itself.

To be clear, NOT ONCE did any of us go on any samgirl's page to interact with ANY of them in any negative way. And yet, samgirls fully treated all of us as absolutely evil horrible insensitive people who were actually harming them irl by posting things on our own blogs. While their friends spewed absolutely vile hate messages at Courtney, samgirl blogs were making posts about OUR cruelty and how any of us daring to find humor within the onslaught was deeply evil and insensitive toward them. It was literally argued that Samgirls themselves are all super special victims of abuse who all of us (who clearly have never been through anything bad ever) were being insensitive toward. So of course that mode of thinking within the samgirl community encouraged the hate bombing to continue as some justified form of "retaliation" against our cruelty.

Genuinely I think the hate mail on this went on for like 1-2 months. Some really really ugly vile shit was sent mixed in with some really funny shit. Questions were pondered such as, "Wait a minute—how is everyone defining autonomy???" "Is a demon tricking Sam a violation of Sam's autonomy?"" "Do Deangirls just want to give all of Sam's Super Special Traumas to Dean, who has never been through anything, ever?" "How many incidents can PK come up with where Sam violated Dean's autonomy within 3 minutes?" I posted the aforementioned blackmail uquiz, and Courtney gave all of us this incredible baby Sam image that shall live on in infamy (and haunt all of our dreams).

Psychic!Dean or: Sam's stolen valor part 2

I believe it all started when Laura ilarual made a post talking about a funny headcanon they came up with in a discord server, wherein Dean managing to predict the future fairly frequently is actually a display of latent psychic abilities Dean isn't aware he has. Courtney Queermania also joked about it, which is a crime punishable by death, because Courtney (a completely normal, nice person) is actually the devil incarnate according to a variety of hate anons who have targeted them nonstop since February 2023 for literally no fucking reason.

This resulted in this hate mail, and also blended with the general autonomy disk horse that was still going on in Courtney's inbox at the time.

I think what was funny to everyone about Psychic!Dean was how spitting mad it made people for absolutely no reason other than it was somehow perceived as "stolen valor" by samgirls. I started shitposting after that about how Dean can sense hidden rooms. Psychic!Dean has become one of my favorite headcanons since—we're all rather fond of it now.

Gun Safety: A Commentary on pillows and black store clerks

This is two different diskhorses in a trenchcoat that happened with deancrit destiels/casgirls. Once again—me and my friends never went on anyone's page to interact with anyone in a negative way.

This disk horse had two related flavors: is Dean bad and evil and the devil incarnate for 1) sleeping with a gun under his pillow and/or 2) Shooting Jack in the back to get his attention and keep him from strangling a black store clerk to death? Also, are either or both of these things abusive because of... the lack of gun safety?

I suppose you can guess what side deancrit casgirls landed on regarding both of these issues. It was suggested that the sheer possibility that Dean might hurt poor white baby Jack's feefees should trump the life of the innocent black store clerk he was strangling to death in a rage. Naturally.

Regarding the former vein of discourse: Someone got really really mad at Victoria angelsdean and me for making posts on our own blogs that didn't frame Dean as the source of all evil in the world for having a gun under his pillow, and started going through our blogs reblogging things and being an insufferably condescending asshat in tags with a very transparent goal. Among their complaints, were that "The Prisoner" is an incidence of "domestic violence" against Cas, and that Cas shoving his hand into a child's chest to feel for his soul causing him excruciating pain is perfectly fine, but Dean sleeping with a gun under his pillow is *looks at notes* abusive to Jack. Also they thought it was very important to remind all of us that their dad was in the army for some reason.

I was completely unable to take any of this seriously. If you haven't been on my page long, you might not be very familiar with my potty mouth, but it's important here. I've been here a long enough time that I've seen countless kind people get hate bombed by ugly disgusting assholes in this fandom, and this year I simply had enough. Somewhere around the 20th time I saw fellow deangirls get absolutely vile messages from deancrits or obnoxiously condescending reblogs full of nonsense in the year of our lord 2023, I started endeavoring to embarrass them. One way I did this was by equating deancrits who come onto deangirls blogs to police their posts and act like insufferable condescending assholes... with a dude who walks into a men's locker room and immediately whips his dick out. Everyone else is clothed, but this one dude starts running around naked, showing everyone his cock and going "LOOK HOW BIG MY COCK IS. SUCK ON IT" and not only is he being annoying and weird and harassing people—his dick is actually tiny. Basically I began saying, "Stop whipping your dick out on everybody else's blogs, acting like your cock is big and huge and bulging and I need to get down on my knees and suck it. No one is going to suck you tiny cock just because you decided to whip it out."

I used this metaphor with the person who was being a condescending ass on my blog. I promptly got accused of making "violent sexual threats" by one of their friends, and then another one showed up to tell me, "If internet cancellation were real, you would be so cancelled for this." I changed my header to say, “Cancelled by Ligma Balls” and blocked like 6 people and my blog has been blessedly free of deancrit casgirls throwing tantrums and trying to hit me with their babyhands since.

#mail #dont feed the stans after midnight

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hannahssimblr · 6 months

Text

Chapter Two (Part 3)

We sit in the window of a vegan restaurant and we pick at our sweet potato and quinoa bowls while she goes on about some poetry night she was at last week. She always goes to poetry nights, she insists that she’s moved by the prose, which to me seems like endless spoken word performances about the Ballymun flats, soliloquies about the gentrification of the working class postcodes, references to things that Dubliners love, like the Poolbeg chimneys, which are… just chimneys.

Marnie is one of those people who loves pretending that she isn’t posh. She can lament about the flats, but she’s never been in or near them. She buys bags of tobacco, skins and filters for five euros when she could easily afford to buy her cigarettes pre-rolled, and does her best to uphold the most neutral of neutral accents, so ambiguous that nobody could ever guess where she’s from. It’s only on rare occasions when she lets her guard down that her plummy, south side accent peeks through and she can’t disguise affiliation with the fee paying school she attended in Blackrock. For both primary and secondary, no less.

I’ve been to poetry nights with her, but only once or twice, because I hate them. She likes to sit there and make outraged sounds in the right places, pretending to be furious at the bankers, even though her dad is one and he definitely benefited directly from the housing market crash. The whole reason she’s there though, really, although she’d never admit to such shallowness, is so that she can meet weird, literary boys who go to Trinity. They seem to love her, and I can only ever sit in amazement as she brings me to their tables and watch as she wraps them around her little finger using nothing but clever words and conspiratorial little smiles. None of them are that handsome, they’re all a bit gawky, and usually after a couple of weeks of knowing her they’ll do something earnest like write a poem about her which she’ll read to me mockingly, pretending that she isn’t privately delighted by it.

She’s not like anybody else I’ve ever met, which drives my fascination with her. She’s very interesting. She reads books about feminism, and always has high-brow, intelligent opinions about things like the patriarchy, which I am only now hearing about for the first time. And she’s very cool, and I know that she tries very hard to be cool, but it works, and when I’m around her I kind of feel like I’m cool by association. She’s got attitudes towards things that I know someone like my mam would say were “very modern”. She told me before that she used to be in an open relationship with a boy called Peter, and insists that humans were never supposed to be monogamous. But the open relationship arrangement only seemed to apply to her, as evidently Peter never went on a date with another person for the entire relationship, and they eventually split because he was jealous. Except she hadn’t said “jealous”. She’d said “Unevolved”.

“Come on, Evie.” She pesters me over our salads after my less than enthusiastic response to her invitation to yet another slam-poetry-spoken-word-whatever night. “It’s always a good laugh. I know that you have a good time, even just a small bit.”

I sigh. “I really don’t, Marnie. I’m just not that bothered about the poetry.”

“Well, if you don’t like poetry, at least come with me to flirt with a few cute guys. It would be good for you.”

I look at her doubtfully, knowing that there are never any cute boys there, only exceptionally odd looking ones wearing doc martens boots laced all the way up to their knees. “I’m not that bothered about the boys there either.” I say. “None of them are… really my type.”

She puts her hand on my wrist and looks at me worriedly. “I was actually wondering.” She says in a low voice. “Like, I’ve known you for over a month now, and we’ve been out in town so many times and met so many people and yet I’ve never seen you even flirt with a single person.”

“So what?” I say defensively.

“So do you like boys? Girls? Neither?”

“I’m shy.” I huff.

“I used to be shy.” She comments, and I don’t say anything to that, because I know that her definition of what shy looks like is extremely different to the kind of shy I’m living with. “I was a very quiet child, then my parents sent me to a therapist and I was alright after that.”

“You think I should go to therapy because I’m shy.”

“Oh, everyone should be in therapy, it’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and actually, this country’s relationship with mental health has historically been shameful, so we have to make extra effort to challenge our prejudices about it.” She goes off on a tangent, all while gently stroking her thumb over my wrist, and I zone out for a few moments so I can look out the window onto the windy city street.

“So like, when’s the last time you got with someone?” She says suddenly.

I pull my hand away from her so I can rest it on my hot cheeks. She’s very good at asking direct questions in a very conversational way that are very difficult to twist your way out of, and I don’t know what to say so I grumble something incoherent. Then she pokes me in the arm. “Hey. It’s no big deal, just a simple question. How long has it been?”

I sigh. “A while.”

“What’s a while?”

I take my fork and start stabbing at my chunks of sweet potato, my hand fisted at my cheek. “Never.” I finally admit. “You got me, okay? I still have my… virginity.”

I know as soon as the words leave my mouth that she’s going to have something grandiose to say, and she does. “Virginity doesn’t exist.” She announces. “It’s made up by men to control the sex that we do or don’t have, completely based on the obsessive patriarchal ideological rhetoric that leads to the idea that daughters belong to their fathers before they belong to their husbands.”

“Okay.” I say.

“So go out and have it.”

“It’s not that simple.” I say half-heartedly, already tired from years of having this exact conversation with first Kelly, then Claire, neither of whom have ever understood me, or tried to. “Everyone else already has experience, and will expect me to have experience too. Because I should have some experience by now. And when I finally do… it with someone, I’m going to disappoint them.”

“Because you’re not immediately a porn star?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there is that, and men will always have unrealistic expectations of what is physically possible…” she says unhelpfully, then stops when she sees my forlorn expression. “But you’re too in your head about it. The best way to get over it is to just do it.”

“Yeah. Great. With who though?”

“Someone, any lad will do.”

“It’s supposed to be special.” I say weakly. “Everyone says you don’t forget your first time, and if I’m going to remember it forever then I want it to be perfect.”

“People have sex sometimes, Evie. It’s not a big deal. Can you imagine the pressure of having to live up to the kinds of expectations that you have?”

I never considered the effect of my expectations. Maybe she’s right, maybe I am piling the pressure on too high for everyone involved, but I have no idea how I’m going to even begin to untangle the web that is my intimacy issues. I groan and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands in resignation. “I know I have to try. It’s not like I want to be like this, but I just feel so stuck.”

“We have to unstick you.”

“We?”

“Yes I’ve decided to help you.”

“Marnie…”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Think about it, you and I out on the pull together, chatting to men. I could definitely hook you up with someone.”

I fix her with my best warning look. “I don’t ever want you to try and set me up with anybody. I want free will and choice.”

“I have great taste.”

She doesn’t. The last guy she hooked up with had an infected eyebrow piercing and curly mohawk in this queasy, seasick colour where it used to be blue.

“Fine, next time we’re out, I’ll give you complete agency.” She relents. “I won’t bring anybody over to you, even if he’s an absolute babe who’s exactly your type.” Then she reaches out and touches my wrist again. “But I think this is good, Evie. It’s time to push past your anxiety, and just see who’s out there.”

“I suppose.” I say grimly, and go back to stabbing my salad. “But I’m not ready to sleep with anybody. I just want to talk, and maybe kiss someone. Maybe.”

“That’s so secondary school.” She teases. “But look, I get it. It’s probably been ages since you even kissed someone.” A pause. “If ever?”

“I’m not Drew Barrymore, I’ve been kissed.” I scoff. “Just not in a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“My debs date tried to kiss me.” I say elusively.

“Tried to? Or actually did?”

“Tried to.” I admit, and then shudder with the memory of Bootsy’s dead eyed face looming toward me on the dancefloor, mouth already open. He didn’t even have the decency to look disappointed when I rejected him either, and ten minutes later I saw him devouring Cristina the Horse Girl by the bar.

“Okay so you objectively did not have your last kiss at your debs.”

“I suppose not.”

“So it was when?”

I feel too embarrassed to answer. Since the dawn of my love life, since my very first kiss at thirteen, I’ve never gone more than a few weeks or months without it happening. It used to be something I did just to get it out of the way, so that I could say that I’d done it, but now something has switched. I’ve had an intense aversion to it, to anybody showing interest in me. It all just seems too much, too overwhelming, something so gross and unappealing to me now that the idea of it makes me feel a little sick.

“A while ago.” I say, feeling flustered at the old memory. “It was back during the summer after fifth year.”

“So like, a good year and a half?”

“Yeah when you put it like that it sounds so sad.”

She doesn’t need to tell me that yes, in fact, she does think it’s sad, she just shakes her head in dismay. “You’re getting back on the kiss train, firstly. Let’s start there. Once you’ve broken the seal it’ll be easy. It’s just about pushing through fear.” She says it like she really knows what she’s talking about, with absolute conviction, and I kind of believe that she does. Marnie gets all the boys, all the time, even if they’re not handsome boys, she still gets them, so surely she knows a thing or two that I don’t. I find myself nodding along to what she’s saying.

“Alright.” I say. “I’ll get back on the kissing train.”

“Amazing.” She grins. “Let’s go out tonight.”

I take a shaky breath. “Wow, that’s soon.”

“Come on, Evie, it’s never too early, just push through it.”

“Alright. But can we go to a normal bar? Not one of those Trinity pubs, please, I don’t fancy any of those academic types.”

“I feel as though you’re just making excuses.”

“I’m really not, just, please, can we go somewhere normal.”

She sighs. “You know I like the Trinity students.”

“Can you compromise?”

She rolls her eyes theatrically. “Fine. We’ll go to a bar. A boring bar full of boring people.”

“That’s more like it.”

“But as a pay off you have to kiss someone.”

“I have to?”

“Okay, like, obviously it’s really bad-out for me to pressure you, I know, but you have to try some light flirtation with at least one boy.”

“Okay.” I say to her, “I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise. One boy.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

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soyouareandrewdobson · 9 months

Text

Meinu Henshu Dobson! The abandoned magical girl thing....

When it comes to his “original” work, such as Formera, Alex ze Pirate, Percy Phillips etc. I think that Dobson always had these two (of many) main flaws work against him.

His ideas were too generic for his own good. I am not necessarily against a “generic” idea for a story, as we live in a time where almost every tale has been told countless times or the basics and tropes of certain genres are more than well known to a lot of us. Sonic Frontiers e.g. has been called by some a “Breath of the Wild” knock off with typical Sonic game plot elements, but that doesn’t change the fact it was (at least to me) a lot of fun.

However, there is a thing as being “too generic”, which to me is when your story not only follows in the footstep of something already well known, but lacks even more personality than you would think at first. The reason why something like that can happen, is because the creator may not spend enough time to establish elements of their work, that can help make certain characters, the basic plot etc. stand out a bit. Such as personality traits, the goals of the main characters, the rules by which the world functions. And this in turn happens often, because past an initial pitch idea, they do not really flesh things out, thinking they can figure more details out down the line. In Dobson’s work this shows to me e.g. a lot in Formera, where the main character meets along the line a discount hippie version of Muten Roshi that does not play any relevance past his 5-6 pages of screentime, the leads lack personality, the idea feels a lot like a proto-Isekai (preteen magically transported to another realm) from the time BEFORE the genre became more well known in the 2010s and we don’t even get a lot of story behind the world of Formera itself. Or Percy Phillips, who really is just a knock off version of the worst traits people associated with Sherlock Holmes past 1918 and who even compares his own archenemy straight to Moriarity. Pretty much all of these works lacked a certain “spark” of individuality and were not fleshed out enough when he began to work on them. And I am not saying, that if you want to create a story, you need to know every miniscule detail already two days after you had the initial idea. Many great stories can develop some of their greatest moments along the way. But you need to have some basic concept for things as themes, main characters and tone kinda in your mind, while also not being afraid to flesh things out.

Dobson never really went through with a lot of his stuff As much as I hate a badly told story and I want certain shows/comics/books/whatever just to end, I hate the idea of an “abrupt” ending even more. Even if a story is undoubtedly shit, I kinda want to see its’ creator manage to at least bring it to a proper end story wise, instead of someone pulling the plug and leaving it at whatever point it was by then without resolving its main plot or giving answers to certain things in them. So you shouldn’t be surprised, that Dobson’s “storydriven” comics really annoy me, seeing how a lot of them were just unceremoniously put into never ending hiatus by him. Simply because they did not turn into hits that made him instantly famous online. A behavior, that to me always signified just how much Dobson cared more about himself, than the actual work and characters he created.

Because of these flaws, whenever Dobson hinted on the idea that he was going to publish something new or that he had something in mind he wanted to try out, me and many other people just rolled our eyes, knowing that it won’t likely come ever out. Or that if it did, it would be more generic than white bread with vegan butter and be over after four weeks of no one caring much for it online.

And yet, Dobson managed to surprise me and other people in 2018 when he posted that thing, showing how he was even beyond the point of having only “generic” ideas.

This post to me just recks of desperation to stay relevant, while also showing how little he understands the very thing he wants to talk about.

I will admit, I am not very familiar with the magical girl genre overall. Part of it is, because there is so much to it and that it had been in something of a flux when it comes to things such as tone and intend over the last 15+ years alone.

However, I do know the following: The magical girl genre is essentially an invention of the 20th century, that has its roots likely in the 50s and 60s. At least Osamu Tezuka’s “Princess Knight” and things like the 60s western tv show “Bewitched” seemed to have quite a bit of an impact in the 60s and 70s for people in Japan to not only create stories with female characters in the lead, but also give them magic powers to fight bad guys. Even back then the genre being in a steady flux, as some shows were selling themselves of their rather cutesy design for the heroins, had the main character just have silly but fun adventures, while others focused more on action to also attract boys, at times even creating rather “raunchy” content for the time being. Examples of all of that would be shows like Magical Princess Minky Momo, Majokko Meg-Chan and Cutey Honey.

However, it wasn’t until the first anime adaptation of Sailor Moon hit the airwaves in 1992, that the Magical Girl genre became a worldwide phenomenon.

Now to be fair, Sailor Moon did not invent all common tropes already associated with the genre (such as magical sidekicks, characters, aging up when turning into their hero personas, tomboyish designs, action, the power of friendship or love motivating others to stop the bad guys…) but it did popularize the “monster of the week” structure, the concept of a team of heroines fighting together instead of just one lead character, the increasing escalation of conflict within a specific story arc and so on for a general audience. Making the anime a smash hit, that others decided to copy. Some of them doing so successfully while also establishing their own identity along the way (such as the Pretty Cure franchise), while others… not so much.

One of these things is not like the other, one of these things is total GARBAGE!

Overall, the magical genre has been separated in 4 major camps as of now: a. the classical genre of cute girls fighting against evil and having silly adventures or fighting the monster of the week, mostly functioning as coming of age stories (such as Card Captor Sakura)

b. The more action oriented approach as codified by something like Pretty Cure and in the west would e.g. be determined by She-Ra or Ladybug to some degree

c. The “parody”, often times playing with expectations for comedic results (Magical Girl Ore)

d. The “deconstruction” like “Magica Madoka”. Shows and stories that look at the otherwise positively presented concept of a magical girl story and will turn it around by focusing on existential horror, the grim reality of young girls and kids forced to fight against evil or are just plain violent shlock that tries to present itself as “more meaningful” than it actually is. And btw, I do not hate darker takes on rather light subjects, but I just think the medium of anime had been kinda overrun by it in the last 10 years.

Again, I myself am not really following the genre that much. I watched Sailor Moon when I was younger, I heard of some of those deconstructions over the years (but have no intend of really watching them) and frankly, I may give PrettyCure a bit of a second try after watching at least a cute anniversary movie of the show recently at a convention.

But even if it is not entirely my cup of tea, I do get to some degree how they work. What makes them popular with the audience, the tones that work and don’t, what tropes to expect from a certain show at times depending on which camp it is from etc.

As such, I also get that if you want to make a story within the genre, you need to have a bit more in mind to it than just “It’s about magical girls fighting evil”

Cause there are a shitton of ways how this can be done.

It is like saying “I want to make an American like superhero story”, ignoring the fact that this does not specify enough what you are aiming for. Like, do you want it to be in tone more like a golden age comic, a child friendly cartoon or a modern comic? Is your main character going to have inherit superpowers or gain them? Does he or she even have powers or are they relying on gadgets? Are their villains normal people, superpowered freaks or cosmic horrors? What the heck do you want to go for!

This is a question, that is more than justified in this post.

Cause here is the deal: aside of it having a talking animal companion, transformation sequences and a school setting to it (which in itself is a mild surprise, considering Dobson’s hatred for institutions of education) he has literally not thought about anything. And even what he has isn’t just barebones, it is bone scratches.

“My story shall be set in a school”. Great. What kind of school? Elementary? High School? College? Waldorf School? Private Academy? Is the main character supposed to be an actress going to a film school and uses her education and acting skills to at times trick the monsters during fights?

Talking animal companion… so, regular animal that gets the power to talk via magic by accident like Spike the Dog in the Equestria Girls specials, or was it already born with the ability?

But it is the part where he asks the people reading that post “but what about weapons, magical items, vilains etc.?” that really drives me nuts, even just as some idiot who at times pitches ideas for fanfictions. Because this right there? This is what Dobson, as the creator of the story, should truly come up with. The “meat” on the bone” so to speak. The thing separating his work from the rest.

The reason I say that, is the following: To me, every story is build on the following “pillars”: Premise, (basic) World Building, character, progression.

Premise being what the story is about, summed up in like one or two sentences. Character defining who the main leads are and what basic personality traits and goal define them, world building determining e.g. in what time period the plot is set, important locations and so on, while progression shows us where the plot is heading post the initial starting point. These pillars also work in a constant tandem with each other, meaning e.g. that with the plot progression, characters can change in personality, that the world building and premise becomes more complex etc.

And the thing is, based on this post alone, I have no idea what it is Dobson wants to sell to us. He doesn’t give us a name for a lead character, he doesn’t give us a basic premise and the fact he hasn’t thought even the most basic idea for villains and weapons makes it more than obvious, that he has no “world building” ideas either. His “pitch” for a story is less than a note made on a napkin.

See, you can love or hate Sailor Moon and Ladybug as much as you want (I know I have not really a positive opinion on the later) but even if they’ve made shit up along the way, they knew what they were or are going for.

With Sailor Moon e.g. it is easily established, that the main character named Usagi is a clumsy, rather whinny school girl living in Tokyo, who has the power to turn into Sailor Moon, a guardian of the light who has to save earth from Queen Beryl of the Dark Kingdom. The idea of her fellow senshis having powers mostly based around elements, while being named after planets of our solar system is also established quickly as a theme, as is e.g. that the villains are named after minerals. And no, I am not making a Steven Universe joke now.

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Action to save the world against the power of darkness by trusting in your friends.... Meanwhile for Ladybug, the story is set in Paris conflict is centered around Ladybug and CatNoir fighting Hawkmoth, who wants their Miraculouses to change reality with a wish. The respective powers of the heroes and villains are established quickly, as is the main “civilian” conflict of Marinette having a crush on Adrien, both not knowing that the other is part of the hero theme. All while the “action” is centered on Hawkmoth creating new monsters of the week by corrupting civilians, who need to be freed of an Akuma, while in Sailor Moon the monsters were either already existing demonic minions of the bad guy, artificially created via objects or civilians who had been corrupted without the villain having to monologue first or waiting for them to be in a bad mood.

...vs romance. Though to be fair, the movie does a way better job at making me care for these two thirsty preteens than five seasons of Thomas Astruc's thing

But Dobson’s post… it lacks everything hinting on him having even a broad idea of what he wants to do.

Just to dissect the post even further:

First paragraph, Dobson says he wants to make a short magical girl series. Define short. The average Pretty Cure season needs around 52 episodes to wrap up its plot, Magica Madoka did the same in 12 episodes and one movie (edit: I know it was thre movies, but two of them are just compilation movies, so that doesn’t count much in my opinion). Sailor Moon’s first major story arc in anime consisted of 41 episodes, Miraculous meanwhile needed over 130 episodes and two specials to finally wrap up the abysmal Hawkmoth “arc”.

Already, if you don’t want to overwork yourself with the idea, you are better off actually setting up parameters yourself, instead of asking others what they think you should do. Not to forget, up until that point in time, Dobson had not really created much for years. SYAC comics aside, he was only doing work on rather awkward Ladybug fan comics and worked in “secret” on Cabin’s Rest. So the expectations he could even do with that idea was lower than his Patreon income. And to be frank, even “short” magical girl stories I know like Kamikaze Kaito Jeanne or Card Captor Sakura needed around 7-12 volumes of like 200+ pages per volume to wrap their stories up. Dobson meanwhile had not once in his life published even a third volume to any of his stuff.

Second paragraph, essentially asking for others to come up with the ideas. I mean sure, he rather asks for average trope a reader wants to see instead of others to automatically give him all the character designs etc. But it is still a bad move.

As stated earlier, there are different camps of magical girl series, so it can be already hard to define what counts as “average”. I mean, it all depends on how far the creator, rather than the audience wants to go. Magica Madoka is a completely different Behemoth than Sailor Moon, and Sailor Moon itself, despite its own repetative elements was still darker than lets say Ladybug is. I mean, at least Sailor Moon did not romanticize abusive parents and characters, the main lead was not a crepy stalker and characters could die in it.

Third paragraph, as stated further above, confirming he has no idea what to even go for. Cause if he had even the slightest idea, he may already have in mind something for the villains and heroes, that would fit in the “mood” of the story he wants to tell.

Fuck me, he can’t even think of basic powers. Like okay, don’t just outright look at Ladybug and copy the powersets there. But come on. Just open up a Pokemon gaming guide while blindfolded, put your finger on any random page describing a move and then make that move a superpower. All you have to do then is think of a scenario in which whatever power it is, even if it is otherwise a sucker, would work. Even if it is just for the sake of comedic effect.

Like honestly, some idea I have: How about a team of magical girls that have powers correlating to figures of Greek mythology. Give one the ability to foresee the future like the great Cassandra, give one character the powers of Demeter, meaning she can summon plants, another one is a great Hunter like Artemis, one is a wise leader who can up with great strategies like Athena…

Dang, I think I just came up with way more of an “original” idea than Dobson.

And let’s be real here: Thinking up basic shit is at times not that hard. It is finetuning those ideas, that is.

How can anyone working in the creative fields, a person who actually went to college to study animation and how to draw comic, have failed to catch up on such basic concepts behind storytelling? I know kindergarden kids who are able to catch up on it, just by having watched more than one cartoon over their young life.

Then again, THIS right here is the advice he has given once in term of how to "write" a story.

Terry Pratchett's ghost: What a wanker!

And finally, anything and all suggestions are welcome? Yeah, I press X for doubt here.

After all, Dobson was never really what I would consider the most open person to anything that was not really within his comfort zone. So I think that if anyone had for example suggested him to create a gay male character as a villain or supporting character or that he should have taken a page from something like the Magical Girl Raising Project, he would have likely just blocked that person and thrown a fit about how people have corrupted something as pure and innocent as the magical girl genre.

In doing so ignoring, that he had done the same with his rather creepy Ladybug fancomics

You know... for KIDS!

In addition to that, there is also to be considered, that if he had listened to too many ideas and suggestions, he would have been unable to really create something decent anyway. You know, too many cooks, throwing in everything and the kitchen sink… that sort of logic.

But let us be real here: This “thing” whatever it was supposed to be in Dobson’s head, was never going to materialize anyway. After all, when was the last time up till then, that Dobson actually bothered to create something “new” all by himself, instead of simply doing a fan comic or using SYAC as platform to whine how bad nerds are? Plus, considering the timeframe he started to post it (around the same time he started making Ladybug comic strips that got popular on tumblr and instagramm, though at times not by his own doing), it is obvious he only tried to jump on the bandwagon that was Miraculous Ladybug. His “favorite” little cartoon at the time, that ironically has earned a lot of criticism over the recent years, to the point people reevaluate how good of a magical girl show it really is compared to either the classics or new stuff coming out.

The bottom line is, Dobson tried to generate some sort of hype for something he wanted to do, without even having a basic idea of what it was supposed to be, that he wanted to create. And in posting this, the only thing he really did was show to the rest of the world, that as a cartoonist, he didn’t even grasp something so basic, My little Pony: Friendship is Magic and the Owl House actually got it.

Kneel before your queens!

Well, that is a lot. However, I do not want to end just on a “bitter” note with this entry. Instead, I want to ask some of you, to prove to me that you may be a little more imaginative than Dobson, by perhaps posting to me some ideas you may have for a magical girl inspired story or character. Not even something too complicated, just whatever you think would be fun, dark, interesting and so on. I promise, I am not going to steal your ideas for my own gain. All I want to see, is if the rest of the world there has a few more ideas, than a professional cartoonist.

And in turn, I think I will try and flesh my own “pitch” from a few paragraphes above out a bit, if you like.

#sailor moon #mahou shoujo #magical girl anime #miraculous ladybug #syac #andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #unimaginative #rant #anime #adobsonartwork #adobsoncomic #Youtube

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