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https-florals · 1 year

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i know what you tell your friends - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 4.6k

summary: you’re losing your rules and all your resolve.

warnings: suggestive, angsty?? fanon rafe, protective rafe, misogyny, catcalling, kelce and topper being rude and nasty, drunk rafe, showering together but not in a sexy way, cursing, rafe yelling at you, rafe being a swiftie for fun, shitload of toxicity

a/n: I GOT VERY CARRIED AWAY ITS SO LONG!! hopefully y’all like this even tho there is no kissing or sexy times 😳 im v proud of this little miniseries!!!! pt3 will hopefully be in the works soon! read on beautiful people!

Rafe has never been good at following rules. It’s just not his thing. Parts of him simply forget restrictions, his mind deciding what it wants and his body following. Other times, he looks at a rule like a dare: he breaks them out of pure spite.

He can’t tell which reason is making him push the limits with you.

It’s a pretty Saturday night at the country club, Rafe and his friends all crowded at a table in the corner of the club restaurant. He’s hoping that you’re not working and simultaneously praying you are.

Much to his chagrin (enjoyment?) you’re the first to bounce over to his table, pulling out your notepad and pen before you look up at the customers.

Rafe is painfully aware of the way your breathing hitches, your smile not quite reaching your eyes when you realize who is seated at your table.

“How are y’all? What can I get started for ya?” You’re the damn picture of a perfect waitress, short black skirt stretched over your thighs and white polo purposefully unbuttoned. Rafe is thinking that there’s definitely a porno about something like this when Topper nudges him.

“Bro? Your drink?”

“Whiskey. Whiskey sour, please,” he says, getting a side-eye from a buddy at how strained his voice is and how he deigned to even say please.

The only thing he can think about is how pretty you would look with that skirt pushed up about your hips.

“Dude? The fuck is wrong with you?” Kelce hits Rafe across the chest as you walk away, snapping him out of his stupor.

He blinks hard and shakes his head, like he’s trying to shake rain out of his face. “Nothing, man. I’m just tired.” Lying is currently Rafe’s number one hobby, apparently. First to your face about a multitude of things, now to his best friends. He doesn’t like to think of himself as a dishonest person- the principle of integrity has been drilled into him since he was a kid, and even though he’s managed to shake off a lot of guilt, something about lying to the people he loves grates on his conscience.

Not that he loves you, or anything.

When you come back with their drinks, Rafe tries his hardest to ignore the way his friend’s eyes rake over you.

You’re so bubbly and customer-service-y as you pass out drinks, smile bright when Topper thanks you for his old-fashioned. A slight twinge of jealousy hits Rafe, and he wishes you’d smile at him like that.

The second you walk away, Topper makes some offhand comment about how he couldn’t help but look straight down your shirt when you gave him his drink, and Rafe bites back a comment about how Topper wasn’t worthy of that smile you gave him. He focuses on picking out what he wants to eat.

Rafe drifts in and out of the conversation with his boys, but mostly watches you as you go from table to table. You’re back for their food order, and it’s almost like you’re avoiding making eye contact with him.

Topper is leering at you, Kelce is being rude to you, they’re all being dickheads, but who is the one person you aren’t even looking at? Rafe.

As you leave, Kelce grins. “She’s fine as hell, Top. You see the way she looked at you?”

The boy’s cheeks tint pink as he takes a sip of his drink. “Practically begging for it,” he chuckles.

Rafe is silent as Kelce howls for no damn reason, slapping the table as a joke that just isn’t funny.

“Man, this is your opportunity,” Kelce chirps as you walk from table to table. “Ask her if she’s doing anything after her shift!”

Topper throws his hands up, attempting to act bashful but the bold smile on his face betrays it. “What am I supposed to say, dude?” He shifts his tone, making it nauseatingly breathy and smooth. “C’mon, babe, let me give it to you right,” Topper practically moans in her direction, sending Kelce into another howling fit.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe groans, slouching in his chair and downing the rest of his sour. His friends are insufferable, he knows that. He’s never really cared before, in fact he himself often goes along with their lewd jokes- flirting with club staff, making gestures behind their backs. Why it’s just now grating on him so hard, he doesn’t know.

If the boys hear him, they don’t act like it. They’ve moved onto horrific pickup lines.

“If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting ahead?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine, you be the six, I’ll be the nine!”

Rafe sighs, wishing he had at least two more drinks sitting in front of him. “Can you not? You’re acting like douchebags.” His words are coated with annoyance. He sounds like a mother chiding her boys.

“Who pissed in your cereal, man?” Topper scoffs. “We’re just messing around. You’ve been so tight lately, bro. You usually eat this kinda bullshit up.”

It’s true, but it makes him cringe. He’s been guilty of the very thing he’s angry at them about, and it’s probably the reason you think he’s a shit person.

Kelce laughs. “You’re just mad she ain’t looking at you, dickwad.”

They’ve finally shut up by the time you come back with their food, much to Rafe’s relief.

His hand just barely brushes yours when you hand him his plate, and you jolt so hard that the club sandwich almost slides off. There’s a flash in your eyes like you’re hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course he does.

He notices everything about you.

He also notices the way your skirt shifts up as you move, and Rafe resists the urge to reach out and tug it down.

You clear your throat as you set everything else down, wiping your hands on the front of your skirt, pushing it down a little.

Thank God.

“Okay, gentlemen! Anything else we need?” You smile, and Rafe thinks that he needs you to kiss him like, right this second, but he bites his tongue and shakes his head.

You’re just about to turn away when Kelce clears his throat, saying, “One more thing I need to know, miss!”

It’s like he’s talking in slow motion. Every part of Rafe is filled with an inexplicable dread as he begins to speak.

“Job policy make you wear this?”

You pause, a little perplexed frown on your face. “No, I just wear an Island Club polo for fun.”

Kelce grins, and runs his hand down your arm, not faltering at your tone and not even when you jerk away. “Strictly that? Nothing else?”

You’re preparing for some lewd joke about whether or not your wearing panties.

“You need some more… accessories.” He grins, innocent when he looks up at you. “I’ve got one that would look great in your mouth.”

Rafe’s vision goes a little red when your jaw drops open. He stands up quick and slams his palms on the table. “Get the fuck out, man.”

“Has that ever worked for you?” you blurt incredously as Rafe moves around you. His hand tucks on your waist as he slides you away from Kelce, but you pretend not to notice.

Kelce gasps when Rafe grabs him by the sleeve to pull him out of the restaurant.

“Dude! Chill out!” Topper protests.

The look on Rafe’s face scares you a little when he whips around to look at Topper, snapping, “You wanna quit acting like a douchebag, or do you want me to haul your sorry ass outta here too?”

Topper flushes and sits.

“Don’t ever let me catch you talking like that to any of these girls here, alright?” Rafe is seething as he pushes Kelce into the club bathrooms. The other boy’s jaw is dropped open, nodding his head.

Rafe knows he can be scary. Right now, he uses that to his advantage, hand fisted in the collar of Kelce’s shirt as he towers over him.

Kelce is trying to break free, but Rafe refuses to budge. “You are gonna go back out there and say you’re sorry, and then leave her the biggest tip she’s ever seen. Got it?”

The shorter boy nods fervently when Rafe lets go of him, and practically sprints back to find you.

Rafe steps out of the bathroom, leaning up against the wall as he watches Kelce find you and apologize. Your eyes are wide while he’s talking to you, and you give him a timid smile right before he walks away.

Rafe hates him. He hates the way he spoke to you, and hates the way you don’t punch him in the dick. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, he thinks.

When you walk away from Kelce, Rafe follows you before even really thinking about it.

You’re finally within reach and he grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him.

Yanking your arm away from him, you hiss, “What are you doing?” The stilted customer-service kindness is gone.

“I’m sorry my friends are assholes,” he whispers, taking a step back from you, his hands up like he’s begging you not to shoot.

Your shoulders sag. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I do,” he says, voice thin. “I acted like that, before, and now they think it’s cool to be dicks.”

“Before?”

Before you, he thinks, but doesn’t say.

“I try not to be like that anymore,” Rafe says instead. He holds his hand out like a peace offering, and you accept it, your palm sliding against his in an awkward shake.

“Friends?” He asks, soft and questioning.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you joke, not quite catching the way Rafe frowns. “I gotta go. Text me later, okay?”

He promises he will, then he’s moping back to his table, where he slaps down two fifties and makes Kelce add two more to the pile. The boys are gone before you can even offer a check.

You get off late, heading back to the Chateau drained. You pass on a game of poker with your friends for a shower, receiving a boo from John B and several rude names from JJ.

After a good half-hour shower and coating your body in lotion, you’re feeling up for cards, and settle at the table with a glass of apple juice.

“Ooh, now that is hard liquor,” Sarah comments, teasing as she deals you in.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight. Y’know, in case I have to drive anywhere.”

“Where would you be driving?” Pope asks, and you shrug in return, even though you know exactly where.

“She’s gotta see her little kook boyfriend,” JJ says, but there’s a bite to his words.

“Not my boyfriend,” you state, hands up.

Kiara makes a face, but you don’t miss it.

“Guys. We are strictly just fucking.”

“Ew! I don’t wanna hear about that shit!” JJ shouts, and the rest of the table makes disgusted noises.

You look at him with an incredulous expression. “Can a girl not get laid anymore without everyone having to give a damn opinion? We are just messing around!”

“It’s not like he’s the absolute worst,” Sarah ventures, her hand sneaking over yours.

John B frowns at her while JJ chimes in, saying. “Sarah. I know he’s your brother, but he is actually the worst.”

“He’s getting better!’ She defends, voice high.

Almost like he knows he’s the subject of your conversation, Rafe’s caller ID pops up on your phone. You motion for everyone to be quiet, and answer it. Your volume is up and for once the Pogues are so quiet that they can hear the other line without you even putting it on speaker.

Rafe croons your name over the phone, one, two, three times before you can say anything.

“Rafe?”

“Hey, baby!” There’s a crackle and the sound of fabric shuffling against the speaker. “Shit. I’m not supposed to call you that.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, though it's more of a scold than a question.

“I need your help,” he says, and you can hear music in the background. “Top was supposed to be my DD, and I can’t find him.”

“Are you drunk? How many shots have you had?”

Rafe doesn’t answer you, but keeps rambling. “Sarah didn’t answer any of my texts, and I don’t know who else to call.”

Sarah’s eyebrows knit together and she checks her phone, turning it so you can see that she has no notifications from her brother.

“Come pick me up? Please?”

There’s a moment of silence on your end, and Rafe repeats, “Pretty please.”

He says your name again, so soft it makes your heart ache. “I need you.”

You sigh and stand up, JJ throwing his hands up in exasperation, but having the courtesy to remain silent. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Send me the bar and for the love of God, don’t drink anymore!”

“You’re the best,” Rafe answers, and doesn’t hang up, so you have to hit the button.

You’re rushing out the door, ignoring your friend’s remarks and jabs.

“I”m not letting you in when you get back here at the asscrack of dawn,” John B warns as you grab your keys.

You ignore him and race out to your car. When you get to the bar, Rafe is sitting outside on the steps, head between his hands.

You park illegally in front of the entrance, ignoring the loud honk from a car. Rafe’s face lights up when he sees you hop out of your car, and starts to stumble toward you. He trips when he’s just a few feet away from you, and you stick your arms out to stop his fall. It doesn’t quite work, and the breath is knocked out of you when your back hits the metal of your car door.

Rafe jerks back, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He’s inspecting you like you’re an apple in a grocery aisle- spinning you around, checking for bruises.

You nod, and make an odd little squawking noise when he hugs you tight and effectively takes your breath away a second time.

“I missed you,” he exhales into your hair, and you realize just how drunk he is.

You pull away, squinting up at the redness in his face. “How many drinks did you have?”

He shrugs and grins, eyes stuck on your lips, unashamed. “Too many.”

Blowing out a breath, you open the car door and help him in. “I can tell. Arms in, bud.”

There is too much sweetness in your tone, but you realize it a little too late, and can’t find it within yourself to even care.

When you slide into the driver’s seat, he slumps over the center console, head nestled on your shoulder and his hand slipping to your knee.

Spotify is shuffling all of your favorite Taylor Swift songs, and you notice about halfway through the drive that Rafe is quietly singing along.

His fingers idly play with the frayed hem of your sweatshorts, humming, “if I showed up to your party, would you have me, would you want me…” It’s a little slurred, but he hits every note right.

“Didn’t know you were a swiftie,” you joke, pressing your cheek to the top of his head.

He shakes his head, but laughs all the same. “I let Sarah have aux whenever I gotta drive her places. She really likes the album that’s like, blue, and it’s got all those songs about Harry Styles on it.”

“1989?”

He nods. “She loves that one. Good album.”

“You’re so right.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Rafe is saying your name, whispering it like it’s a taboo word.

“I’m sorry my friends were such assholes earlier.”

“You already apologized. It’s alright, I’ve heard worse.” His face after you say that makes him look like he’s in physical pain. “Seriously, Rafe. Kelce’s question was maybe the most PG thing I heard today. Teenage boys say some wild shit to waitresses.”

He frowns. “I’ll beat those little motherfuckers up. Gimme a list, I’ll rock their shit.”

You tell him no, but you’re laughing. “I don’t need you to protect me, Rafe.”

He shrugs, acting like the phrase just rolls off his shoulders. “I don’t give a shit about what you think you do or don’t need,” he says, too nonchalant.

“Excuse me?” You swerve a little as you whip your head towards him.

Rafe sighs, stretching out in the passenger. The muscles of his thigh tense as he moves, fully on display with his little 5-inch inseam shorts.

“I’m not repeating it, baby.”

Your chest tightens, breath a little shallow as you keep your eyes on the road. His hands are red hot on your thigh, like his fingerprints are burning into your thigh. You need to push his hand off before he can lay claim on you like that, but you don’t move, his fingers pressing and sliding and flaming.

“Sarah told me you had a date the other day.” His voice has a little bit of venom.

“I did,” you confirm, giving him a side-eye.

His profile looks like stone as he stares out the window, streetlights reflecting on his skin. “Why? Who was he?”

“You don’t know him, Rafe,” you sigh. “He’s from the cut. Works with JJ.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek as he laughs. “You and these Pogie assholes. You ever gonna try something different?”

“I have some range. Not just pogues. You’re a Kook asshole, and we get along just great.”

Rafe’s brows narrow. “Get along? You just want to fuck me, that’s why we get along.”

“You’re so right. Good job!” You try to joke.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You jump and swerve at the sudden change in his voice. You’ve heard him yell before, but it’s never been directed at you. “Why are you yelling?” you shout back. You don’t know why your eyes are burning.

“I”m yelling cause you’re a fucking idiot,” he groans, but his hand is still painfully hot on your thigh.

You scoff and push it off. “Shut up, Rafe.”

His jaw tenses and shudders a little. “They’re so shit to you,” he practically cries. “And I’m here. I would be so good to you. Better than any of these dickheads.”

You rub your eyes, telling yourself it's because you're tired and not because you're about to cry. “Why are they dickheads? I think you’re an dickhead.”

“Don’t say that,” he whines.

“What makes them worse than you, Rafe?” you huff.

“Cause they don’t love you like you need to be loved.” He’s looking everywhere but you, and you’re thinking about pulling over because your heart is beating so fast you feel like you might die. Then his eyes finally shift to yours, piercingly blue. They remind you of the waves that break overhead when your surfboard pulls you down under the water.

His fingers are tracking back to your thigh, and you do your best to keep your damn eyes on the road and drive, no matter how hard he’s staring at you.

“Like I could love you.”

Your knuckles are white on the steering wheel. There’s no words stuck in your throat because you can’t think of any; you’re panicky and you can’t breathe.

His face turns to the window and he begins to hum to the radio. Nothing else is said.

Rafe is still humming when you help him out of the car, his arm slung around your shoulders.

“Thank you for coming and getting me,” he says, breaking the heavy silence when you reach the door.

You stare at him like he’s an alien. He never says thank you. You're still reeling from the car conversation, but you clear your throat and pat his shoulder, like you’re just two buds. “You good from here?”

“No.” He says it so quickly, bottom lip poking out like a little kid. “I need you.”

I don’t give a shit about what you think you need. The thought twinges in your brain, and you stop yourself from saying that you don’t think you need to stay.

“You can at least make sure I don’t like, drown in the bathtub. And get in bed.” He smiles that heartbreaker grin.

You can’t tell if he’s sober or drunk, or what. You sigh, and push past him, dragging the tall boy in tow. “Fine. No funny business.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gives you a little salute, and stumbles along with you.

It’s so hard getting Rafe upstairs that you give up on being quiet, and settle for praying that none of the Camerons wake up and catch the two of you. When you finally get to his room, you push him into the bathroom.

“You reek,” you sigh, shutting the door as quietly as you can.

“Rude,” he responds, peeling off his shirt.

You try not to watch him shuffle out of his clothes as you turn on the water, running your fingers under the stream and checking the temperature. When it’s warm enough, you turn back to Rafe, doing everything but staring as he stands shamelessly naked in front of you.

“I- your- The water’s hot.”

He laughs and shuffles past you. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen me naked.”

Your cheeks heat, but you blame it on the rising humidity in the bathroom. After making sure he’s alright, you slip out.

You pace Rafe’s room, messing with the few trinkets on his desk and marveling at the cleanliness. He has a little oyster shell dish with a little painting of UNC, and a couple of rings lay in it. You’re trying on his signet ring when you hear a thud.

“Rafe?” you whisper-yell. There’s just the sound of running water. You rush into the bathroom, flicking on the fan to clear a little of the steam. Against your better judgment, you slide open the shower door. Rafe is slumped against the tile wall, eyes shut, mouth open. Dead asleep. You step in, water drenching your clothes as you smack his cheeks, trying to wake him up. “Rafe, when you said I needed to make sure you didn’t drown in the bathtub, I didn’t think you meant literally,” you mutter as you try to push him up and out of the water stream.

His eyes blink open, then roll back, then close again.

“Rafe! Come on, baby,” you mutter, and smack him again.

His eyes fly open and you jolt back as his lips curve into a grin. “You called me baby.”

You frown. “Did not,” you lie.

“I love when you lie. You’re bad at it.”

Self-righteous asshole, you think. “Sit down,” you instruct him, pointing to the built-in shower bench. He sits, and you squirt some of his shampoo into your palm. You’re pleasantly surprised that it’s not 3-in-1. It even smells good. Standing between his legs, you push the shampoo through his hair, raking your fingernails over his scalp and giggling at all the little moans he lets out.

Your clothes are soaked, uncomfortably so. Your tee clings to you, and Rafe’s hands fiddle with the hem of it.

“Why are your clothes on?” He asks, tone genuine.

“Because you’re drunk,” you answer, “and I wanted to keep them on.”

He nods, and you rinse the suds out of his hair. The casual intimacy of the moment hits you hard when Rafe rests his head on your chest. It’s so soft and sweet and so out of the ordinary for the two of you that it’s nearly blindsiding.

You get him cleaned up, and then track water all over the tiles when you grab towels. He wraps it around his hips, and you shiver as you pull it around your shoulders.

If the shower sobered him up at all, it’s not evident in his attitude towards you, but he is walking a little straighter. Rafe pulls a tshirt out of his drawer, and two pairs of boxers. One pair is for him, and he slides into bed, watching you expectantly.

You stare back at him. “What?”

“Shirt and boxers are for you. You can’t sleep in soaking wet clothes.”

“Close your eyes.”

Shockingly, he does, throwing a hand over his eyes without further questioning.

You strip and don the outfit. The boxers are soft, and there’s a few holes in the collar of the shirt. It’s worn, with a faded Rolling Stones emblem. “I never see you wear this,” you say, and his eyes open, lips pressing together as a smile just flickers over his face.

“Cause I don’t. It looks good on you.” Rafe’s cheeks are a little pink, and he’s looking at you with pure adoration.

You turn to hide the shakiness of your hands, and sit on the bed to pull on your Tevas before grabbing your keys. “You all good? I gotta head back to the Chateau.”

“No, I’m not good,” Rafe answers with a groan. “You should stay.”

You stare at him, taken aback. “No, I should not. I really need to go back.”

“Why?”

You shrug. A good reason is not floating through your brain at the moment, or at least one that’s real. You could say they need you back for… something. It’s a lie. You could say you have to help JJ with something. Also a lie, plus it would make Rafe mad, you think. Not to mention the fact that you aren’t sure if you and JJ are still on speaking terms after the way he glared at you when you left.

You could always say you don’t want to stay. But damn, that’d be the biggest lie of all.

“I just need to. Rules, remember?” you remind him as an afterthought.

He sighs, loud and overdramatic. “Rules, schmoolze. Just stay.”

When you fiddle with the strap of your sandals, deciding whether or not to take them off, he reaches for your wrist, fingers hooking on your bracelets.

“I’ll be good,” he whispers. “Promise.”

Well, shit. How can you say no to that?

Within seconds your shoes are off, keys tossed somewhere, and you’re crawling into bed with him. You’re rigid at first when he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you a little closer.

“Relax. Quit acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“You haven’t like this,” you answer, voice strained.

“Don’t worry. Cuddling up won’t make you fall in love with me,” he huffs, and your leg hooks over him as your head tucks against his chest.

He’s wrong, you think. He’s wrong, and you need to go home. Right now.

But then his hand is on your back, and he’s humming another damn Taylor Swift song, and his thumb is circling your shoulder blade so, so slow.

You’re too far gone to leave now.

“Comfy?” He stops humming to ask.

You nod, just a little bit, trying to find a place for your gaze to rest. Your options are endless- his eyes, his mouth, his chest- but none of them seem safe. You settle for a freckle on his cheekbone. “What about you?” you ask in return.

“Never been better.”

He’s comfortable in the silence, and you most definitely are not. It’s foreign, being in his bed with your clothes on and a part of him not inside you. You’re not sure how to act about it.

Rafe clearly does, either that or he’s winging it. His hands are soft and soothing all over you, willing you to loosen up. He unwinds the coil in your shoulders, the tightness in the small of your back.

As your eyes start to drift shut, you feel his lips against your forehead.

“Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight,” you repeat.

Your stupid little list of rules is doing nothing.

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!!!! thank you for reading!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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AITA for not supporting my friend’s relationship?

(@aita mod I pinky promise that this is not an “aita for thinking/feeling something” submission, I’m just a long winded mf)

Okay this is admittedly stupid stupid dumb but it’s bothering the hell out of me so here we go. I (26X) have a friend (23NB) who recently got into a nice, stable(?) relationship after a string of messy short-term ones. They’ve been dating for ~2 months now, and the guy (early 30s?M) seems really nice and genuine. My friend is very happy and gushes about him constantly, which makes sense because the relationship is fairly new and their most recent previous relationships were with people who weren’t very open or communicative at all. I feel like the only valid reason I could possibly have to not like this dude is the age gap, which is more of a personal ick as I’m not really comfortable with dating anyone more than 5 years older/younger than me. They’re both adults and it’s their love life, so whatever.

The thing is, I just…do not share their enthusiasm for this guy. At all. He seems like a cool guy, but the fact that he’s dating my friend just isn’t jiving in my brain for whatever reason. I’m getting an inexplicable weird vibe. When I see a picture of them doing cute couple shit on instagram or wherever, my reaction isn’t “that’s adorable, I’m so happy for [friendname]!” or even “I’m glad they’re happy!” It’s more like “eugh, why are they doing that? I don’t want to see this.” This isn’t a normal reaction for me at all. I’m usually very supportive of my friends’ relationships as long as there are no obvious red flags. The only reason I can think of as to why I might be reacting this way is that an acquaintance of mine was pushing me to get with this same guy a couple years ago for NO REASON, and I was absolutely not interested, so it might be leftover discomfort from that. I don’t (consciously?) hold that against him though, that was 100% my acquaintance’s strange bullshit. I’m mostly into women and fem dudes, so there’s no latent attraction to my (masc leaning) friend or their bf involved either.

Here’s the part where I might be the asshole: because of my weird uncomfortable reaction to seeing this dude and my friend together, I haven’t been liking or commenting on posts/messages/etc about them being together or how wonderful this guy is. Social media interaction/validation is a big thing for them, and eventually they noticed that I wasn’t interacting with anything pertaining to their relationship. I don’t think I was obvious about it or anything, just operating on the “if you don’t have anything nice to say…” principle. Regardless, they asked me about it, and I went completely deer-in-the-headlights. I ended up saying something like “I just didn’t have anything to say about those posts, it’s not really my business” but I could tell they weren’t convinced. They asked me what I thought of the guy and I told them he seemed nice but I didn’t know him that well. I think that just made them more suspicious because I’ve been working for the same company as the guy for about 3 years now, but it is technically true. After my first few months I got transferred to a different department and haven’t seen him since.

They looked really disappointed and asked me if I could try to be a little more supportive of their relationship online, reminding me that this is “the first nice person [they’ve] dated in years” and that they “went through hell to find him.” (I think they were referring to their most recent breakups and exaggerating hardcore. They were messy, but I’ve heard every little detail about those relationships from them and they sounded like they ended due to plain old incompatibility/lack of interest. I would only call one of their recent exes “not a nice person.”) They ended the conversation by telling me that they trusted me and my approval was really important to them, which made me feel like shit, but it didn’t really make me see the relationship in a different light or anything. l definitely FEEL like an asshole, because even after they talked to me about it I have no plans to lie and act super into their boyfriend when I’m not. I realize how petty all of this sounds, but it’s obviously affecting my friend a lot, or else they wouldn’t have spoken to me about it in person. It just feels like I’d be an even worse friend if I started regularly lying to them about what I think of their relationship, even though I don’t have a valid reason for feeling the way I do. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rodeoxqueen · 10 months

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Dante and Vergil as Exes.

As great as they are lovers, not all relationships work out.

Dante

Stays friends with you after the breakup. Most likely still in love with you.

Likes your Instagram stories, even if they have your new s/o in the picture.

Is the guy you tell your s/o not to worry about.

If you’ll have it, you still stay in contact with him depending on the breakup.

Claims he’s doing fine without you but probably lying.

Drunk texts you a lot. Mostly messages about how he misses you. They stop after you start dating someone else because he has principles. Ends up being upset about it to Lady and Trish.

Does not date anyone else after you. He let you in and you left and now he really doesn’t want to go through the talking stage again knowing how good your relationship was before it wasn’t.

Vergil

Is the ex who immediately blocks you after the breakup.

Doesn’t want anything to do with you in the first few months after.

It isn’t until you bump into his five o’clock shadow self on the street that his suppressed feelings for you return.

Has that look of want and need in his eyes when you meet his gaze in public places. He doesn’t mean to stare, he just never stopped loving you. Doesn’t know what to do with these feelings.

You patch things up eventually and he still wants to stay no contact, but he thinks about the spare moments of seeing you a lot.

#devil may cry #dante x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry headcanons #dante #dante headcanons #vergil #vergil headcanons

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girlactionfigure · 4 months

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@shlomo_fishman

One of the main foundations of the Palestinian narrative states that: "according to international law, Israel is occupying Palestinian land".

What most people don't know is that the international law states, in fact, the exact opposite. I'll explain.

In the picture below, you can see article 80 in the UN charter, signed by the UN in 1945 during the San Francisco convention. As stated, its purpose was to ensure the rights given by trusteeship agreements approved by the UN, one of them being the British Mandate which officially began in 1920 and was designated to the establishment of a "national home" for the Jewish people on the area shown in the map below, as previously declared in the Balfour Declaration in 1918.

Now you may say: "but what about the UN general assembly Resolution 181 (the partition plan)?". The answer here is pretty simple: first of all, the general committee has no official power to enforce their decisions, which are mostly symbolic. Second, the plan was never set in motion, as the Arab leadership refused to accept it and the war between the Jewish population and the Arab one, broke down. Regarding the UN security council, Article 24(2) states: "the Security Council shall act in accordance with the Purposes and Principles of the United Nations". Which means it also cannot overrule article 80 in the UN charter.

There is also an argument I heard, about the British Mandate being a class A mandate. Class A mandates, were territories formerly controlled by the Ottoman Empire that were deemed to "... have reached a stage of development where their existence as independent nations can be provisionally recognized subject to the rendering of administrative advice and assistance by a Mandatory until such time as they are able to stand alone. The wishes of these communities must be a principal consideration in the selection of the Mandatory". There is one major problem with this argument: the Muslim Arabs NEVER had any national ambitions back then, nor wanted an independent state until after 1948.

Haj Amin Al-Husseini, probably the most prominent Muslim leader during the British Mandate and the Mufti of Jerusalem at that time, who dedicated his life to combat Zionism and purge the Jewish population in the area, even reaching Adolf Hitler at some point to help him fulfill those plans, never wanted an establishment of an independent Muslim state.

While launching massacres against the Jewish population (the great Arab revolt, 1929 Arab riots and more) and trying to convince Arabs not to sell lands to Jews, he justified it only using religious Islamic motives and blood libels against the Jews. Their only mission was to erase Zionism, so there was never an appeal by him, nor the Arab League and not any other Muslim leadership of that time to the international community, for the establishment of a Muslim state called "Palestine".

So when I define the Palestinians as: "a political movement pretending to be a nation, only to combat Zionism", I talk about this exactly.

This text sums up the main things you should know about the non-existent Israeli occupation, which many people unfortunately don't. So it was very important to me to write about it, especially in these difficult times, and I'd appreciate your support in spreading this message, a lot.

#Israel #Palestine

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footballffbarbiex · 10 months

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A Million Times, Yes

player: Ruben Dias words: 915. Whoops! request: Ruben Dias | 250 - 500 | You / your | Okay so I can’t really make up my mind if Ruben knows the reader already, or gets to meet her in Portugal. I would leave that option to you🙈

So I’m thinking that you absolutely love the beach, the long walks along the water, or just the peace that it brings to you. You and Ruben walk alongside the water and he is just mesmerised by the fact that you’re totally relaxed, because usually your stressed out from work. You have deep conversations about everything that’s coming to your minds and he realises that you are the one for him. So after the time in Portugal, Ruben makes it his mission to take random trips to the sea whenever you are stressed out and one day he asks you a very important question.

Ruben bringing you to this particular spot was normal now and just driving here made you feel at ease in some way. He’d noticed the change in you when he took you to one of his favourite spots in Portugal, somewhere close to where the water was and as you’d sat with your eyes closed, listening to the lazy lap of the waves against the rocks. He said you’d stood a few inches taller because of the stress and weight of everything lifting and in a way, you had felt it too.

Now, he couldn’t just fly you back to Portugal after a rough day, but he did find two different places which he hoped could mimic that feeling, one was a lake near where the two of you lived and the other was a seaside resort when you needed the sea. It wasn’t completely the same but closing your eyes, you could picture you were. He’d sometimes bring a packed lunch, something for the two of you to nibble on as you’d unwind and put the world to rights and a blanket for when you’d remained out there way after the sun had gone down and a chill had crept in, sweeping in over the water surface until it had reached you both; prompting him to pull you close and hold you in his arms until you wanted him to let you go.

Today was no different. Ruben had shut you down the moment you’d opened your mouth to say that you’d debated picking up a shift because they were understaffed. You knew oh too well what it felt like to be there alone, or pretty much alone for the good of some of your coworkers who were more than a little work shy, but it didn’t feel as though anyone else would do the same if you were short staffed, explaining that you could handle it better than anyone.

He hated it when you came home burnt out, crabby and somewhat emotional at times because of how often you found yourself in this situation. But he made you text your boss back and reply that you couldn’t pick up the extra shift because you already had plans and only once that text was sent was he somewhat satisfied. He’d watched as your deteriorated throughout the week and you knew another water trip would no doubt be arranged soon.

“It just pisses me off.” you confess, picking up a light, smooth pebble like stone that’s been worn away over time from the water and rolling it between your fingers until you’re happy before skimming it over the surface. Ruben’s been quiet for the past 10 minutes. Each time you’ve looked at him, he’s been shredding blades of grass or picking at some of the food while watching you and letting you get it all out of your system. He’s hummed and ahhhh’ed in the right places, given advice when needed but mostly, he’s allowed you vent undisturbed.

“It pisses me off because I know I’m capable of running that shift, I’m not saying that I’m not. But I shouldn’t have to run it by myself.”

“It’s the principle.” He adds.

“Exactly!” You send another one flying over the surface, ripples forming where the stone briefly kisses the top before you’re bending to scoop up some more to choose from. “I can handle it, I always do but it does feel as though I’m not respected. Not by the manager, not by those I work with. Because it’s fine. Miss Dependable will be there to pick up everyone else’s pieces, but who’s going to pick up mine Ruben?”

Frustration has you sending a stone flying but rather than skimming the surface like before, it plonks down into the water, sending water splashing in every direction the drops can reach. When he doesn’t reply, you turn on your heel to look at him, only for the stones to fall from your fingertips and land assorted at your feet.

Ruben kneels before you, a look on his face like you’ve never seen before as he grasps a small opened box revealing a dainty but perfect ring. It’s not big. It’s not a show stopper which demands attention and holds down your hand with the weight. It’s perfect. It’s you.

“I will. I’ll be there to pick up the pieces now and for as long as you’ll have me.” He says, tone of voice matching the expression upon his face and you try to place which emotion is the dominant one. He sounds worried, terrified and yet, there’s the slightest slither of confidence to speak those words that comes through.

“Well that’s one way to calm me down.”

“Your ranting wasn’t planned.” He admits and chuckles to himself. “There was just no stopping you once you got going.” this time his laugh openly verbalises with no worry. “But it snapped you out of your bad mood, you’ve unleashed most of that frustration and I’m hoping that we can put a smile on your face and something else on your finger…” he drops his gaze between the ring and your hand. “Because I’ve been thinking about every way to do this and being here with you is where it feels right. Being with you feels right and I don’t want anyone else by my side for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t want or need anyone else either. It’s you and it’s a yes, a million times over.”

#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias drabble #ruben dias fanfic

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totally-not-here-for-the-smut · 8 months

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More quick headcanons!

The arcana M6 during a boring lecture

I'm picturing one of those HUGE class with like 300+ students in multiple rows.

Nadia

Takes the most perfect notes, color coded, wonderful handwriting, clear, and referenced

Always on time

Secretly hates most of the classes bc the teacher is boring

She'll try to take the professor's place

She's just so good that the principle pretends she's an actual student

Everyone is happier this way

Asra

Sleeps through the class

Takes a lot of colorful notes

...none of them are about the lecture

Trades tarot readings for notes and explanations by their classmates

Interrupts the lecture often with random pieces of information about the subject

Random, but accurately correct

Somehow he passes

Julian

There's no knowledge he would deem as boring

Sits in the front row and takes actively part to the lecture

Never takes notes, survives on Nadia's

Always late

Still loved by the teacher

Will go play chess with the professor because he thinks he's sad no one likes the lecture

He sucks at chess

Party all day, study all night

Sleep? NAAH

Portia

Brings a plant to the lecture

"She felt alone at home"

Really tries to focus...

... but falls asleep on Asra (or viceversa)

She gets easily distracted by the other's jokes

Actually, I think she's the secret head-prankster in the room

Great sounding board, Nadia loves studying with her

That's how Portia passes

The plant is actually in perfect shape

Lucio

Is this a class?

I thought it was my auditory

Keeps an alternative lecture behind the last rows of seats

Always got booze

Nothing of what he says is true or correct

But he has charisma, people love listening to him

Will end up as the teacher's assistant ina few years???

Passes because he bribed/banged/convinced the teacher

Muriel

Oh my god why am I here

He's the classroom hero whenever a bugs flies in

He keeps the bug under a glass and spends the lecture looking at it

Will mostly talk to Portia's plant

He has the hugest girls fanclub

He's so embarassed by this

Borrows Asra's note, almost fails the test

He passes anyway, Lucio bribed the teacher again (out of guilt, ofc)

Muriel's graduation is more of a team effort

#the arcana #the arcana game #nadia satrinava #asra alnazar #julian devorak #count lucio #portia devorak #muriel arcana #modern au

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ao3cassandraic · 9 months

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Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 2

(Part 1, for those interested)

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." --John 1:1, King James Bible

A better theologian than I could perhaps write a meta in which the Starmaker is the Word. I'm not prepared to go that far, honestly. I am fully prepared to say that written words, in the GOverse, are very, very important -- but curiously neither angelic nor demonic. They're human.

I mean, watching s1 I noticed that there's not a whole lot of written words in Heaven, to the point that I was wondering whether angels are even literate. There's the Quartermaster's list (which now I'm wondering about again -- we don't see whether there are words on it; perhaps it's just pictures and maybe checkboxes?), and... and... um... surely there's more... there's got to be more, right? ... huh, go figure.

Word of Gaiman says that angels mostly don't read the Bible; it's not angelic, it's human, and as such rather déclassé. In s2, we do see Gabriel's name written across his file -- but inside it? Not forms, not written documents, but video. There's an Ursula K. LeGuin line -- I think from The Telling? or maybe Four Ways to Forgiveness -- about a society that's postliterate, having left the written word behind for video, and is for that reason extra gullible. Yeah, that line sure does remind me of Heaven.

No wonder Muriel doesn't get much respect from their colleagues or reporting line. If words aren't angelic, how can respect be due to a mere scrivener?

Jimbriel can read, though his grasp on the alphabet is a bit shaky. He can't really read, though -- just as angels can speak human language but not think human thoughts. Only someone who can't quite get his head around the idea that written words convey meaning would try to organize books alphabetically by first word. (Aziraphale does understand this, of course. "But nobody would ever -- yes, fine, go ahead." I love that line. Aziraphale would hate my metadata class -- or he'd love it, just to do the opposite of every organizational principle I teach!)

Hell uses writing, but very inexpertly: the typography on its signs is (with full Doylist intent) execrable, and in s2 we learn that most demons can't spell for beans. What Hell can do with written words, apparently, is contracts, like the one Crowley has to sign for the baby Antichrist -- and after the Job minisode and its miles-long bet contract, I don't actually think contracts come from Hell in general, I think it's Satan specifically who writes them. (Maybe Satan used to be the Word. That'd be interesting. GO theologians, start your engines.)

Hell does seem to have a lot of paper around, shuffled into various overflowing cabinets and stamped at various desks. Hell even has a Lord of the Files! Even so, Furfur relies substantially on a visual display at his desk, a camera, and a surveillance video display. Most of the paper seems to be for handling former humans -- once again, written words and humans are inextricably entwined in the GOverse.

As for angelic and demonic magic, I notice a substantial absence of grimoires, chanting, or incantation, and a whole lot of picture (as we see in the Starmaker's book) and gesture. The Starmaker says "Let there be light" (and so does Aziraphale in s1), but I don't think by internal GOverse logic it'd have worked without the pull-down gesture.

All of which is to say that Aziraphale doesn't need the written word to be an angel; the written word is distinctly unangelic. Writing has to have been something he picked up from humanity, and decided he liked. It's one more thing that distances him from Heaven, as we can see in Gabriel's open contempt for Aziraphale's books, and even the well-meaning Jimbriel's instrumentalist use of books as fans and flyswatters and gravity testers.

Notably, when Nina asks to use Aziraphale's books instrumentally -- as weapons -- she rationalizes it to Aziraphale by indicating that the information in the encyclopedias will still exist online. Aziraphale accepts this! Not without pain, but he accepts it. He, unlike Jimbriel, can separate the meaning of a writing from its carrier. Hi, hello, yes, I am a librarian and I have read my Suzanne "Madame Documentation" Briet and Paul Otlet and Michael Buckland. I've even taught them. Content vs. carrier is a Whole Dang Thing in the history of librarianship. (Also, I am now headcanoning liek whoa that Aziraphale learned French to better understand Briet and Otlet. If he ever starts waffling about antelopes, I will know why.)

But that still leaves @thundercrackfic's actual questions: what exactly attracts Aziraphale to the written word? and how well does he understand it? And my additional question: what about Muriel? I'll get there. I promise! But I still need to talk about rules.

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale #heaven and hell #literacy #jimbriel the holy fool #the quartermaster #angel muriel

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amethystunarmed · 5 months

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Old Men Should Be Allowed to Sob in Privacy

Word Count: 1,849 AO3 Link Part 1 A little less than a week after the murders at the Starlight Theater, Paul cleans out Ted's desk.

Paul didn’t think he would ever be doing this. To be fair, there were a lot of things Paul didn’t think he’d do. Skydiving, moving out of Hatchetfield, going to see any musical that happens to be playing at the Starlight. But this? This was very much not something he expected.

On principle, he hated going into Ted’s office. Being perfectly frank, it stank. Paul didn’t know what cologne Ted used (or what smell he was trying to cover up) but the stench overwhelmed him and he got a headache just by stepping foot through the door. A chemical aftertaste settled in his mouth and stuck with him for the rest of the day.

Even worse than the odor was the fact Ted tended to take anyone stepping foot into his office as an invitation to start a conversation. The last time Paul had taken papers to Ted in his office, Ted had trapped him in small talk for nearly an hour and a half, switching between asking invasive questions about his dates with Emma and lamenting his own troubled love life. Paul learned more about Ted and Charlotte in that time than he had ever wanted to know. After that, he had sworn off ever returning. If Ted needed something, he could get up and get it himself.

And yet, here he was, not only in Ted’s office, but going through his desk. He is sure that Ted would have choice words to say if he were here, but that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Ted isn’t here.

The flower arrangement outside is nice. For as much as Melissa openly despised Ted, she picked a tasteful bouquet. It sits next to the office door on a side table she pulled from the break room with a picture of Ted’s work headshot. He knows she also sent out an email to the whole office to collect donations for help with the funeral arrangements, and he thinks people are actually donating to it. It is all very tasteful, and so very not Ted. Paul can practically hear him bitching about it, complaining that they didn’t use one of his thirst traps from his Tinder. The thought actually makes him choke up, so he shoves it away.

It had taken Paul a while to enter the office. For what felt like years, he had just stood there, staring at the dead-eyed picture of Ted on the table, holding the empty box in his grasp. He was there so long, so lost in thought, that when Mr. Davidson walked up behind him, it nearly made Paul jump out of his skin.

Mr. Davidson looked tired, worn down in a way he never does. Paul knows he normally kept a box of Red Bulls in the trunk of his car; the guy was practically synonymous with the phrase “pep in his step.” Seeing him exhausted like this makes Paul’s skin itch; it’s uncanny.

Mr. Davidson had asked about Charlotte, and Paul had said he hadn’t known where she was, like he hadn’t heard her sobbing when he’d passed the single bathrooms earlier. He had asked how Paul was doing, and if he had heard from Bill, and if he had needed anything, anything at all. It reminded Paul of that last long office conversation he’d had with Ted. Paul had wondered if Ted had actually been trying to annoy him, or if Ted had just been shooting the shit with the man he apparently considered to be his best friend. It made Paul’s head spin, and he gave Mr. Davidson single-word, emotionless answers to compensate for how his brain was reeling.

Mr. Davidson had offered to clean out Ted’s desk for him. Told Paul it isn’t his responsibility. Paul almost took him up on it, almost handed over the box so he could go and just sit with his head down on his desk for a few hours. But he remembered the look of relief on Peter’s face when Paul said he would do this, and shook his head.

So here he is, rifling through Ted’s desk and feeling like some kind of voyeur. There aren’t too many personal items. It’s mostly files and notebooks full of snippets of code that Paul places in a stack for Mr. Davidson to sort through later. But he does find a few things.

A little solar-powered hula dancer. A half empty bag of Twizzlers. A sticky hand Ted terrorized the office with after a trip to Pizza Pete’s last year. A mug with a picture of a unicorn that says “I’m Horny.” An orange puzzle box Paul remembers Ted cursing over when he should have been working.

A picture frame holding what Paul assumes is Peter’s most recent school photo. A candid shot of younger Ted holding a child upside down by their ankles at the beach is tucked into the corner. It is the happiest Paul thinks he’s seen Ted. Tears well in his eyes and he furiously wipes them away.

“How’s it going?” Someone asks from the doorway and Paul nearly drops the frame.

“Bill?” Bill hasn’t been back to the office, not since the... everything that went down at the Starlight. He honestly doesn’t look like he should be back now. It seems like a light breeze would knock him over. There are dark caverns under his eyes and his normally pressed shirt is rumpled. He isn’t even wearing a tie. “I feel like I should be asking you that,” Paul answers slowly. He places the frame into the box on the desk so his hands are free if he needs to catch Bill. He is not confident the man won’t drop into a dead faint at any moment. “Should you even be back?”

“I’m fine,” Bill says, obviously lying. Paul lets him. “I was going stir crazy alone at the house, figured work would give me something to focus on. But seriously, how are you doing? How’s Richie?”

Terrible, Paul thinks. He wakes up screaming most nights, and won’t calm down until he has me and Peter in his sights. Then he sobs for Ruth until he passes out. I haven’t gotten more than three hours of sleep a night since last Thursday.

Her funeral is Friday and I am not sure he is going to be able to handle it.

“He’s been struggling, but he’s a strong kid. He’ll get through.”

Bill nods and hums, but doesn’t question Paul’s lie anymore than Paul questioned his. “And Peter? Have you seen him since?”

He hasn’t left my house since that night. I mentioned going back to his apartment to him and he had a panic attack so bad we nearly had to call 911.

Paul nods. Bill hesitates. Richie had told Paul, when Peter was napping on the couch, about the confrontation outside of the Starlight, about the accusations Peter had hurled at Bill. Paul knows they aren’t true. Honestly, he is pretty sure Peter knows they aren’t true. But, considering the expression on Bill’s face, Paul isn’t sure it is something his friend has worked out for himself yet.

“And how... how is he doing?”

Even worse than Richie, somehow. He is either fretting over what casket material Ted would prefer or staring blankly at a wall for hours while we gently try to bring him back into his body. We tried to send him to school and the school nurse called me in hysterics after it happened during class. It’s why I’m here, doing this, so that it’s one less thing he has to worry about.

Paul sighs. “He is about how you would expect. I know his girlfriend is trying to support him.”

Stephanie will sit with him and hold his hand and try not to cry as he has no reaction. I saw her on the news with her father while he talked about how the tragedy affected even his house, and the blank look on her face makes me scared to let her go home.

“It’s good the kids have a support system,” Bill says. “It sounds like you’re keeping a close eye on them.”

“Emma and I have been looking into therapists, just to give them a little more guidance. She’s been a godsend.”

I saw the stricken look on her face when she realized it was one of her professors who had caused all of this. Her voice has been gone for days since she has had to take over as the main singer at Beanie's. She works double shifts most nights, but she still tosses and turns no matter how tired she is. She calls out for Jane in her sleep. I see the way she stares at Peter, the grief that pulses just below the surface, but she clams up when I try to help.

“Good, good,” Bill says absently. “That’s good.” His eyes have locked onto the box of Ted’s things. He swallows.

“Do you want to look through it? See if there is anything you want?” Paul asks, and Bill fervently shakes his head.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sure Peter wouldn’t mind.”

Bill chuckles wetly. “I am sure Peter already hates me enough.”

“That’s not true.”

“I killed his brother.”

Paul’s heart spasms. “Bill...”

“I didn’t even try to reach for him, after that director pulled the gun out. I just let him lie there.”

“Bill, he was shot in the head. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I went and checked on him, after... but... but there was so much blood.” Bill looks down at his hands, like he is still seeing them coated in red. “And... and his face...” Paul swallows. Ted had been shot in the back of the head, and the bullet had exited through his forehead. Peter had sobbed when the funeral home had recommended a closed casket. Paul is just happy they hadn’t given in to Peter’s demands to see him. “It... It was all my fault and I didn’t even try to save him...”

Bill’s breath hitches. Paul has never been good at dealing with crying people, but he has had a lot of practice over the last couple of days. He guides Bill to Ted’s office chair and sits him down. Bill slumps against him, and Paul places a hand on his shoulder to offer what comfort he can.

Later, Paul will go to Mr. Davidson’s office and tell him he is taking Bill home. Mr. Davidson will tell him to take the rest of the day and Paul will drive Bill home and make them both slightly burnt grilled cheeses and convince Bill to call Alice and tell her he loves her. He will drive back to his home and make sure Richie and Peter have actually eaten something and that they have started on the schoolwork that Stephanie drops off for them every evening. That night, he will collapse into Emma’s arms and finally let himself sob, because it’s not fucking fair.

But for now, he just lets Bill cry against him and tells his friend that it’s not his fault.

#paul matthews #bill woodward #ted spankoffski #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #workin boys #npmd #workin boys spoilers #character death #hurt/comfort #peter spankoffski #richie lipschitz #my writing #my fanfic #tgwdlm mr. davidson

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pearlescentpearl · 1 year

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I ended up getting three asks about the Morgoth’s Evil Cats thing so instead of answering the same question three times I shall simply make one big post

@theghostinthemargins @ymfingsteadilyon

Okay, so we’re all aware of Tevildo right? Evil cat Maia? How aware are we of Miaulë (female, Tevildo’s cook), Umuiyan (male, doorkeeper for Tevildo), and Oikeroi (male, warrior under Tevildo)?

If you weren’t, now you are

Anyway. Imagine, if you will, being a quartet of cats who somehow survived the Valar sieging Melkor’s fortresses, and the guy standing in charge in the rubble is some self-important dog person who free roams his fucking werewolves all over the place. You can no longer thrive in this household, you are packing your little rucksacks and leaving.

Leaving where? Well... you guess you’ll go sneak into Valinor and check on the Big Boss, you were pretty happy under his employ once upon a time. But the only sneaky way in is, uh... the Helcaraxë. Now, the Big Boss may make crossing it look easy enough but he invented cold! Most Ainu don’t actually care for it no matter how well they endure it.

So now you’re in Araman and you have to wear the guise of normal ass cats or risk being discovered and captured as spies. Which would be personally very inconvenient. So now you’re a very bedraggled quartet of Maia cats by the time you get to the only opening in the Pelóri; the Calacirya where Tirion-upon-Túna lies.

And this is what Maitimo finds while out hiking, and either natural elven compassion for living creatures, or perhaps just plain conditioned reflex from wee brothers (mostly Tyelko) bringing home pathetic injured animals for nursing, has him going, awww poor lil guys, you want some help? And Tevildo and co. normally would gut him on principle buuuut... Maitimo has food. And gentle hands. Is practically a space heater with his inner fire. Plus, he’s carrying them up to Tirion, so fine, whatever, they agree he’s their new servant now. They can just recover in his home real quick and then carry on with their quest.

Naturally, they feel no inclination to leave where they’re being pampered with fresh fish, and chin scritches, and brushies, and all the praise they deserve, and also Laurelin beams are amazing to sleep in? What the hell, there were no Laurelin beams under Big Boss!

As it turns out, evil cat behavior is nigh indistinguishable from normal needy, high strung, asshole cat behavior.

Picture, if you will, the look on Melkor’s face the first time he enters Finwë’s palace, and there is Maitimo pinned to a couch in a Laurelin beam by Melkor’s evil cats, what the hell.

Tevildo and co. are not going back to work under a guy who doesn’t give fish, or chin scritches, or warm beams of light to sleep in, no sir. Shove it up your ass, Big Not-Boss.

Melkor: Oh, that’s just rich. When I demand special treatment, it’s unfair. When I enslave elves, it’s evil. When I make people bleed to express my displeasure, it’s cruel. But when you four do it--

Tevildo and co.: *yawn* Should have been a cat 🙄

Naturally, when Melkor’s scheming starts interfering in their Maitimo time, something has to be done about Melkor once and for all

#silmarillion #spoiled evil cats wrecking the plot

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philtstone · 4 months

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if you’re still taking prompts from that list, I’d love to see your take on the nemesis one for any of your modern AUs!

sorry it's not an EXISTING modern au but it is. a modern au. partially inspired by many many many things most significantly a post i literally cannot find again no matter how hard i look... also by anne from anne of green gables. anyway, this is mostly just vibes. and my own salad shirazi opinions. in that order.

In Arwen's house growing up family dinner was always a shared time of day, so it makes her glad that the small apartment her father moved into last year honours the same principle.

“It’s not that he irritates me,” eighteen year old Eowyn, fresh out of her first term of university and with her long gold hair in a tangled braid down her back, is explaining from the dinner table. “I hardly get irritated easily — it’s just that he’s so sweet and friendly all the time, I am sure he’s up to something.”

“Eowyn dear,” says her uncle. His attention is mostly absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. “If you might repeat that first part aloud, and reflect on it a bit.”

Eomer snorts from the sink. Gandalf had tasked him with washing the dishes — he had more or less nothing to contribute to meal making. Eowyn makes a face at him.

“I am good tempered. It’s just no one who’s normal is that nice. Certainly not a man.”

Gandalf, who’s in the midst of a very complex chess game with Arwen’s father, chuckles a bit.

“Indeed?” Ada asks, with a wry smile. Eowyn blushes.

“Do not tease her, you men,” Arwen says, sweeping in to add hot water to the tea cups. The pale green flats of the fragrant tea leaves sent in express overseas mail by her maternal grandparents swirl in the kettle’s pour. Authentic green tea has a potency Arwen has not found in anything purchased around here. “You know she isn’t talking about you, and anyway, she’s right.”

While Gandalf says, “Do tell us more, then,” charitably, Arwen returns to the small kitchen island. The rice is coming into its own in the cooker. Rice is always a comfort; it unites across cultures and races. Admittedly to this day Ada will prefer jasmine to basmati, no matter Arwen's own fascination with the latter. She sets about peeling two thick skinned cucumbers and dicing them, along with tomatoes from Mr Bilbo's garden, into a bowl. Then comes the shallot, and its lilac purple skin. Arwen has always loved the colour lilac. She has a nightgown a shade lighter than this onion, which her fiance sighs over dreamily every time it’s taken out.

Behind her Aragorn chops tarragon for the lentils, which are bubbling. He has embraced jasmine rice since childhood. His hair is tied out of his face and just barely escaping the doom of a man bun (Aragorn is too sincere about everything to accidentally look like the smarmiest versions of his countrymen) and he smells of fried onion and rose oil, like he often does when in this place. In matter of fact he smells like this kitchen is decorated: the multiple little knick knacks lining the sil, the old silver, the warm reds of the woven rug in the floor (one of an innumerable number kept in Iverworn’s house), and the cracked old laminate tiling – brown. There is some comfort in the idea that Gilraen's old apartment is still in the family. Only now, Ada has his little shrine in the den which doubles as his study, and a few more photographs have been added to the baby pictures lining the front hallway.

On the other end of the table Gimli and Legolas sort through Bilbo's rock collection while the old man gives running commentary on where he found each one. Arwen’s cousin is being educated on geology in the process. Frodo and Sam and the rest are still at school; Aragorn has volunteered to go pick them up in a half hour.

“This ought to go in the sedimentaries pile, Legolas. You see the distinctive layering – to really know we’d check for carbonate, but I’d say this is a solid limestone.”

“I don’t understand. Many of them have layers. That one with the crystal –”

“Running in parallel. Look, they’ve sedimented. It’s in the name, for Mahal’s sake. The geode, a sedimentary rock? Preposterous.”

“I found that one in Dale you know. It was, oh, twenty years ago or so now — I’d just had a pint with your dad, Gimli – you remember what he was like twenty years ago, wearing those garish red turbans (though they suited him well) – and when we came out on the street there it was by the lamp post, a little lump of a thing. I thought to myself, why, that looks just like Lobelia’s terrible laddoo – you haven’t tried them, but they’re glorified pebbles, with how dry and small she makes them – and then I turned it over and thought, where might a pretty piece of rock like this come from in the middle of such a town? But then, Dale is very metropolitan …“

Absently, Arwen begins humming to herself.

“Won’t someone put on some decent music?”

“Don’t look at us old men, Eomer. Haven’t the youth got a stereo system?”

“Oh, it's all Bluetooth now. Ah — I have your rook there, Elrond.”

“No he hasn’t; that’ll put his queen in jeopardy.”

“Keep your eyes on your lentils, Estel, my own function perfectly well. He’s been doing this since he was a boy.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” says Gandalf, with the wise knowing of someone who was there to witness such behaviour in person.

Between it all, everyone is somehow still managing to listen attentively to Eowyn as she expounds her theories and suspicions.

“He’s asked four times if we could study together after class. Four times. The next major exam we have is worth sixty perfect of the grade and I’m sure he saw me speaking with the professor last week because I was so determined to pass it. No one passes that exam, according to the third years –”

Arwen stirs the lentils and wonders if they ought to take a little bowl to the shrine.

“Perhaps he’s looking for a friend,” says Gandalf philosophically.

“Maybe he’s a creep, like Wormtongue was,” suggests Eomer darkly.

“He’s only starstruck by a girl in the engineering course,” says Bilbo, with a bit of (not unkind) humour in his voice. Then he reaches into his large duffel, which he lugged indoors with Aragorn and Eomer’s help, and extracts a box of fresh sweets for the table. These, Arwen hopes, are better than Lobelia’s – though she is sure they will be much too sweet for her own taste.

“There are girls in engineering these days, old friend,” Gandalf interjects with a raised eyebrow, but Eowyn is not really paying attention to either of them.

“Last week at lab he gave me a book about zoological diseases I mentioned off hand almost a month ago,” she says with that earnest way she has. “That doesn’t have anything to do with engineering. Do you think he was trying to throw me off my game before our lab quiz?”

It is very hard to keep a straight face at this inquiry, but Arwen – and many others present – manage it. “Have you considered that he might have just thought you’d like it?” asks Arwen.

“But that’s none of his business,” Eowyn says, as though this was obvious.

“How did he know you liked it then?” asks her brother, baffled.

“We’ll — I told him,” says Eowyn. She flushes a bit. “But he initiated the conversation. We should have been talking about closed circuits.”

“Or nothing at all, apparently,” says Ada gravely.

“You don’t know him. He’s got a look in his eye. I can just tell.”

“Oh look, I’ve found him on Facebook.”

And so Legolas has, and they all converge around his smartphone while Eowyn glares defiantly.

“Faramir, is it? You know, he kind of looks like you, Estel.”

“Yeah – if you were much scrawnier and looked like a dweeby engineering student.”

“They look nothing alike,” says Eowyn hotly, crossing her arms – Arwen cannot help but catch Aragorn’s eye (he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, not helped at all by Gandalf, who is looking right at him, and skillfully masking his own merriment besides) “and Aragorn would never be such a — a — a snake, anyway.”

Arwen agrees with this hypothetical assessment, at least. She rummages through the fridge and retrieves the fresh clutch of herbs she needs for her salad.

“But what has he done, Eowyn. The poor boy. There is a bit of dweebishness there, isn’t there … indeed …”

“Look at the last name; isn’t that Denethor’s boy?”

“Oh yes, that would explain it. Engineering? Of all things? I always thought he had a poet's soul when he was a kid.”

“I wonder how they’re doing – haven’t spoken to the man in an age, you know.”

“Denethor you mean?”

“Well, not since the incident with that poor tree in the synagogue’s front yard,” says Gandalf sadly. “You were there Aragorn, you remember –”

“Hmmm,” says Aragorn grimly.

“Well I told you,” interrupts Eowyn. “I haven’t got proof, just suspicions! He’s trying to psych me out of this program. But I tell you – I won’t let him!”

Arwen wonders if perhaps Eowyn had grown up around sisters, she wouldn’t insist so very hard on sticking it out through a degree she is not really interested in. These ruminations are interrupted by a soft touch at Arwen's waist. “Hm?” she says.

“I’m off to pick up the kids,” Aragorn begins in a low voice (the assembly continues to chatter behind them). She smiles at him, then stops: for reasons unexplained he is suddenly offering her a horrified expression he usually only reserves for conservative Tik Tok mommy vloggers and occasions where Pippin is about to grievously injure himself on the park playset. “... What are you doing?” he asks.

“Adding the mint,” she says serenely.

“Fresh?” Like she must be mad.

“Doesn’t it have mint?”

It is his grandmother's recipe, after all; silly man.

“Dried.”

“Your mother always said it had to be fresh.”

“Fresh dried mint,” he clarifies, gravely.

“Really Estel.”

“Take over the lentils.”

“That was your job — and you’ve got to pick up Frodo and his friends.”

“In ten minutes.”

“You’re going to ruin it. Mr I Can Subsist On A Can Of Beans.”

“I can subsist. That doesn't mean you can add fresh spearmint to a perfectly good salad. It tastes completely wrong.”

“Estel …” But Aragorn has already ducked beneath the counter to reach deep into the recesses of their spice cabinet and retrieve an extremely dusty repurposed jar of dried mint, now cradled in his brown hands. The half-peeled label is for sour cherry preserves, which Arwen is sure no one in this family has bought from a store since they discovered the tree in Ada’s backyard.

“This is hardly fresh,” Arwen says archly.

“I dried it last week,” he says, all innocence. His t-shirt is worn and ratty enough that its low collar shows off her old necklace. She can see the jade flower and her own name etched in the characters of her mothers language at the center.

She sighs. Kisses his cheek; takes the mint. “Go fetch Mr. Bilbo’s wards.”

“They’re going to make a mess of my car,” he says, as if he did not happily volunteer for this task.

“Your car is already a mess, my love.”

So he goes, grinning. Arwen adds the mint to the salad and renters the fray.

“Eowyn,” she says. “Perhaps the next time he asks to study, you might take him up on it. That way you can get close enough to catch him at his awful scheme.”

Eowyn's mouth widens in a ponderous oh, as if she had never thought of this. Arwen pats her shoulder comfortingly.

“Food will be ready in ten minutes,” she says. Ada is smiling at her — a true smile, not without its own edges of memory, but no longer the bittersweet thing of three years ago. Arwen smiles back.

#i would post this on ao3 but its so niche and im not sure if i want my 200th post to be this plotless #we'll see #my writing #thank u emma you always got me #lord of the rings #arwen undomiel #aragorn #bilbo baggins #gandalf #eowyn #elrond #gimli #legolas #theoden #eomer #aragorn x arwen #eowyn x faramir #gimli x legolas #is this something

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thelastalessamontgomery · 10 months

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FEATURE | Into the Decadent Life of Dorian Gray: How Victorian Aestheticism Led to His Demise

Originally published as a serial in 1890 and in book form the following year, Oscar Wilde's only novel The Picture of Dorian Gray is one of the best examples of late Victorian Gothic horror. The late 19th century aestheticism and decadence are among the key concepts that Wilde creatively weaved into his novel.

Behind the Aesthetic movement

During the 19th century, aestheticism was an art movement known as "art for art's sake" which favors the aesthetic value of the arts, literature, and music rather than their socio-political purpose. This movement focuses on producing art that is deemed beautiful rather than having a deeper meaning. Its philosophy is meant for escaping the ugliness of the materialism brought by the Industrial Age, thus only absorbing beauty and good taste. It also challenges the norms during the period where Victorians would often associate ethical and moral roles to any form of art, which is the very opposite of the movement's perspective.

While a critical reflection on the arts with the aim of getting through the hardships of a new age by recognizing the necessity of beauty in everyday life, the movement also gave rise to ethical questions–creating a conflict between aestheticism and morality, which can be perfectly observed in The Picture of Dorian Gray.

A stirring and provocative introduction

The novel probably has one of the best prefaces ever written. Novel prefaces during the Victorian age were usually crowded with characters, with long paragraphs that are thickly plotted. Prefaces invite the readers inside the book by stating the purpose, and Wilde was successful in doing so. He wrote the preface without complicated words, it was written realistically and with much thought.

In reference to the Aesthetic movement, Wilde asserts in the preface that art's aim is to only reveal art and conceal its artist. He also talks about the critics of art, who he defines as those who can translate into another manner or material. Detesting people who find ugly meanings in beautiful things, he calls them corrupt and uncharming; this is a fault. Those who are cultivated are the ones who can find beautiful meanings in beautiful things. Then, he ends it strongly with, "All art is quite useless."

Such an introduction will put the readers into deep thought, challenging someone's beliefs on the matter whether one agrees or not. And with the intriguing notions laid upon them, one may argue against it or further interpret the concepts on their own.

Navigating the tenets of Aestheticism in the novel’s synopsis

Opening with a vivid image of the setting, artist Basil Hallward paints Dorian Gray's portrait in his London studio. With them, Lord Henry "Harry" Wotton is smoking an opium-tainted cigarette while taking a shine to the fine young man with an "extraordinary personal beauty." Speaking in aphorisms, and in mostly profound manner, he slowly encourages Dorian to indulge deep into life's greatest pleasures, advising him to look constantly after new sensations in life despite Basil's begging that he should not corrupt Dorian with his words that reek of hedonistic values. Lord Henry, depicted as a manipulator as he picks a flower's petals one by one, would soon have a large role in Dorian's way of life.

As Basil finishes Dorian's portrait, the painting reveals such beauty and is praised by Lord Henry as being the artist's finest work ever done. Suggesting that it must be shown in the best galleries possible, Basil quickly insists that he does not want the portrait to be seen. He says, "I have put too much of myself in it."

Basil worries that showing his work will reveal so much of himself, that spectators may uncover more of his personal and artistic idolatry of Dorian than the fair subject himself. This echoes Aestheticism's principles, where artists must be dismissed; create only a beautiful work and not put meaning into it. He refuses to have his work be explored by critics, and be seen as a biographical expression.

Looking at the artist's finished work, Dorian marvels at how young and beautiful he looks. He wishes that he would always remain young, and that the portrait must become the one to age and wane. In order for such a wish to be granted, he even declared he would sell his soul. And this is the moment as if he has made a pact with the devil.

Dorian coddles with a life of pleasure, living a life with his gift of youth, just as Lord Henry has advised him. Soon he meets Sibyl Vane, a theater actress, and falls in love with her art–performing on stage with different roles embodying the aspects of tragic love: Cordelia, Juliet, Desdemona, and Portia among others. She artistically acts on stage, as if completely losing herself and fully becoming the characters she plays. This is what Dorian falls in love with, her art as an actress. Sibyl falls in love with Dorian, she then experiences real love and realizes the falseness she has been doing onstage.

Sibyl initially inspired Dorian to turn away from decadence. Dorian discusses with Lord Henry the emotions that Sibyl makes him feel, "Her trust makes me faithful, her belief makes me good. When I am with her, I regret all that you have taught me." But when Sibyl performs as Juliet on stage, she seems artificial. She hopes that Dorian will take the hint that she does not want to act anymore after falling in love. Disappointed and ashamed, Dorian stays the whole play after everyone has left. "You have killed my love," he mutters. And then he leaves as Sibyl pleads and cries on the floor.

Sibyl symbolizes truth and purity, while Dorian is nothing but deceit and selfishness. Dorian, once again, is swayed by the values taught to him by Lord Henry. Soon, Sibyl becomes like the tragic characters she portrays, she meets a bitter end when she takes her own life after Dorian turns her down for losing her ability to act. Without this art of hers, she is now meaningless. Henry tells Dorian about the girl's death and says, "The girl never really lived, and so she has never really died."

Aestheticism's values deeply affect how Dorian sees people around him, same with how he treated Sibyl. He only saw value in her knowing that she was a brilliant actress. He mourned for her when she died as Cordelia. But never did he feel an ounce of sadness, when she died as Sibyl Vane.

After Sibyl's death, Dorian feels there is nothing more to stop him from treading a terrible path of sin and immorality. He goes on with self-indulgence, and there is no coming back. Sin after sin, he commits all things hideous. His physical body remains perfect but his portrait changes, becoming uglier as days of sin go by. Shocked by the changes in the portrait, he locks it away in his house's attic. Once again, after ceaselessly doing immoral things, he looks at the portrait and an old, evil face is revealed to him.

A tragic but fulfilling ending

13 years pass by and Dorian remains young and attractive. Dorian shows Basil his secret, the portrait that he is hiding, and the artist is appalled by the sight of his then beautiful work. Dorian then stabs Basil to death. Sibyl's brother, James, also went to exact revenge on him but is shot by one of the members of his shooting party. These events continue to disfigure his portrait. He tries to believe that the portrait may improve if he starts to behave, but he looks at the portrait again and his old self remains with the face of an evil man.

Dismayed and outraged by the loathsome sight, Dorian shoves a knife into the canvas to destroy the evidence of his sin. The sin he wants to destroy is himself. So when the servants arrive in the attic after hearing a blood-curdling sound, they witness Dorian's beautiful portrait just as Basil has painted it, but there lies on the floor a body of wrinkled old man with a horrid face.

The ending scene, as tragic as it appears on the surface, is perfectly constructed. All the events in the story, each circumstance of the characters that have different values and especially Dorian's journey of sin, led to this very end–to his ultimate demise. An ending he deserves, the moment of his death with the magical portrait at the scene that displayed strong symbols–him being one with the portrait maintaining his immortality, the depravity in the painting that he longs to kill instead of facing it.

Dorian Gray and the demise of his Aesthetic life

Dorian's ending is a reminder that no one can get away with everything. He went about in his life with the values of aestheticism imparted to him by Lord Henry, and that brought his downfall at the end. The movement should have only been a means to distract oneself from the industrialization and the physical harms it had on people. But too much indulgence in just beauty on a surface level gets rid of other things that are also important.

Living this life must also take some inspiration. Creating art can be both for the art and artist's sake, so as creating meaning or not having meaning at all. Sibyl is not meaningless when she loses her ability to act, it is not meagerness to finally embrace and see oneself as who they truly are. Basil should not have been shamed for keeping something so precious to him. Dorian would not have been put into a life of decadence if only he considered both having youth and not having youth as a gift, if only he considered to also put value in his attitude as he does in his looks.

It is mentioned how there is conflict between aestheticism and morality which is discernible in the novel. The very conflict presented there is Dorian Gray himself, who is such an exceptionally beautiful-looking young man but has a crooked and amoral attitude–which led to his own downfall. What lies beneath the surface is more worthwhile after all.

#the picture of dorian gray #oscar wilde #victorian era #aestheticism #basil hallward #lord henry wotton #dorian gray #sibyl vane #book review #feature #writing #graphic art #reading #novel #philosophy #art movement #gothic

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imkillerbae · 1 year

Text

Happy Ending (Valorant Sova x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

You meet Sova again after years of distance. He’s surprised to see you so changed, while he remained mostly the same.

Wordcount: 1.4k

CW: Regret, emotional damage *with rizz*, reader has her own family, there's a kid in this fic, sad fic, sad Sova (he need some milk), author likes to make characters have sadge A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours because i was inspired by some songs. And i jus love sad stories so why not you know. Enjoy this short fic of sova regretting life choices (like the author does)

Russia was big. But Sova’s hometown wasn’t. He didn’t know if he was thankful for that or not. You didn’t seem to mind bumping into him though, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

Buying groceries for his babushka turned into inviting you to his home while his grandma made hot chocolate for both of you. It was like the old times, as he remembered it fondly. But somehow with all the stress he had in his work and life, he didn’t seem to remember how time flew by so fast.

You were perplexed when he invited you for a quick chat when your carts collided in the supermarket. He was still himself, although aged and battle scarred. Nothing out of the ordinary for a hunter.

“It’s been too long. Since when did you get back?” You asked him, parking your cart to the side to face him. He was leaning on the handle bars with his arms, bent over his groceries. His silvery blonde hair was braided, laying on his shoulder, lose hairs framing his face. Tilting his head to the side, he recalls the time. “About two days ago. I was too tired to explore immediately so I’ve only been out today.”

He smiles up at you with an almost puppy like grin. “You’ve changed,” he comments, eyeing your face then body, noticing how you dressed more womanly. You smile a tight-lipped smile, primping your hair behind your ear. “Well, it has been years. Time has aged us both.” You chuckled, and he shakes his head. “You’re still full of life as I remember you. Even more so now.”

Sova couldn’t help but stare at you even as you caught him doing so. He longed to see a familiar face when he got back for a break. And yours was the one he longed for most. He blushed as he eyed your silhouette. Somehow, he still feels giddy whenever you’re around, even years later. As the saying goes: first love never dies.

As you both pushed your carts around for things you needed, you talked about life. You were happy that he was more confident now, in contrast to how shy and meek he was before despite towering over most people.

“It is similar to the army, but very different at the same time. I’m able to put my hunting skills to good use,” he says about his job in the protocol. “I’m glad it faired well for you. Seems like there were no regrets in leaving all those years before,” you speak in an almost sullen voice. His mouth opens to protest, but he doesn’t say a word and just nods. His heart clenches at your comment.

When you both arrived at his little home, his babushka was already there to greet you. You hug her warmly, greeting your usual greetings. You met her occasionally, and in those times, she’s always mentioned how much she misses seeing you with her grandson. You could only laugh; those times were long gone.

When he got involved in more confidential jobs, it required him to travel more. It put a strain on your relationship, which often led to fights about commitment and future plans. About how much you really loved each other, and what you were willing to sacrifice. You were both young back then, and you were each other’s first lover.

Your principles did not align: you wanted something serious, and he was looking for the next big thing. You focused on this small town, while he had his sights to the vast hunting grounds he could venture in. Out of naivety, you were left out from the bigger picture. He was finding himself, and in turn, lost you.

And as the time that passed would prove it, not all of his decisions were the best ones.

You both sat in silence for a moment, facing the window as the snow crashed against it. It was warm inside his home, the fire pit burning brightly in the corner. He tipped his glass towards him and looked at his own reflection. He felt a familiar feeling in this exact same scenario. With both of you holding hot cups of chocolate, sitting side by side, watching the window. He smiled to himself before he spoke.

“I missed you,” he admits, looking at you. You return his gaze with a sad smile. “I missed you too… it’s been years since before. Sometimes it feels just like yesterday we were here in these very chairs… planning our lives,” you chuckle.

“We wanted a small house with a large yard,” he recalls.

“Flower beds on both sides,” you follow up.

“Near the woods so I could hunt anytime I wanted.”

“A stable for horses.”

“A tree house for the kids.”

“How many kids did you want Sasha?”

“Four, and you wanted only one.”

“I got what I wanted,” you smiled excitedly. He raises a brow, smile dropping. “What do you mean?” He asks wearily, and you pull out your wallet. Taking out a photo, you hand it to him. “That’s my child. Turning 3 this year,” you smile, pointing at the photo, leaning closer to him. His heart beats against his chest; he could hear it against his skull.

You had a family.

“It all went well in the end, didn’t it? We both got what we wanted,” you continue, taking your photo and staring at it. He looked at you with a different thought now. He couldn’t tell what it was until you spoke again. “I got my house with a family, you got your job and glory. We both got our happy ending.”

He felt a sting of regret. Regret of leaving you, and regret for what could’ve been.

You sipped on the hot chocolate as he clenched his own glass, his heavy sigh visible. He avoids your eyes. “I cannot say that I got my happy ending.” He chuckles sadly. “This… what I have now… the family I found… I would not trade it for the world.” He starts, remembering the Valorant protocol. Brimstone, Sage, Viper, Jett, Phoenix and everyone else. He clenched his fist and smiled fondly. “But I will always wonder what could have been. If I had stayed and made it work.”

You look at him with an empty look, hoping he’d explain more. Setting your cup down, you observed his face. He was looking down at the floors, his hair loose from its braid, smile wavering. “I love you. I still do.” He admits, raising his head to look at you again, the pain in his chest was almost unbearable.

Impulsively you chuckle at his confession, gritting your teeth. His chest felt tight at that moment. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” You joked, but you meant it. “When you left, I wanted to wait for you. But things never really end up the way we want them don’t they?” You smiled at him, caressing his arm.

He flinches at your touch but does not pull away.

“Do you think we would’ve worked if I stayed?” He asked curiously, hopefully. He wanted to at least have this closure.

You stare into his eyes, and you could see all the pain he felt at the moment. He was still the same as his younger self: naïve and vulnerable. As much as he’d aged, he did not move on from the past. He could not forget you. And he was shocked to see you so mature and moving on without him.

You smile at him gently and reach for his cheek, caressing it gently. “In that other world, you would have made me the happiest person alive,” you answered honestly. He leans against your touch. It would be the last time he’d ever feel something like this.

He drove you back to your home. It looked exactly like what you both wanted. A small house with a large yard, flowerbeds covered in snow, a tree house in the works. As he carried your groceries to the front door, he was greeted by a young child that had your eyes and hair. She calls for you as you take her into your arms. “Uncle Sasha! Say hi, say un-cle Sa-sha,” you tell her, and she mimics you.

Sova shakes hands with your child, her hand so small compared to his own. It took all of him not to cry at that moment. She looked just like you.

“Take care Sasha. I hope you find your happy ending,” you smiled at him, waving your child’s hand goodbye. “Take care as well. I hope you don’t mind me sending you gifts for the little one?” He asks, waving back, and you nod in response. Before he takes off, he says one last thing.

“Your happy ending is my happy ending.”

#valorant sova #sova x reader #valorant sova x reader #valorant imagines #valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant sova imagines #valorant sova oneshot #valorant oneshots #valorant oneshot #sova #fanfiction #valorant fanfiction

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accio-victuuri · 1 year

Text

sugar rush 2022: part two

Hello everyone! it’s that time of the year where I round-up the candies brought to us from July-December 2022. I have purposely added ones that captured the eyes of fans. I have also included some good old cpn archaeology I posted during these months in the mix. It’s been a good year, filled with ups and downs for the boys and this fandom but our original intention remains the same. to support them the best way we can and keep em safe. I hope this post gives you some year-end happiness and have a good disposition to face the new year ahead. This is the round up of the first half of the year in case you missed it. bjyxszd. 🤍

JULY 2022

• Similar Chongya pose from the SDC 5 poster. I know Youku have their own graphic designers, but this is just a nice coincidence.

• GG’s GUCCI Link to Love Jewelry

• Video of GG from WDB shoot and he is playing “skipping rocks”. Something that he and Bobo likes to do. They are such kids!!!!

• Bobo is wearing the 🦴 necklace in SDC 5 photoshoot ; Also in the close up images you can see Bobo’s moles and people were quick to compare it to GG. They both have lots of moles— almost like constellations.

• He is also in a Stussy shirt — a brand that they both wear.

• In a grocery store in China, you have our boys! 😂

• Their teams sharing one braincell again 🧠

• CPN post on XZ’s badminton photos 📷

• A Rainbow watch appears on XZ

• Posting at the same time

• I am just adding it here but I don’t think it’s a true CPN. Youku’s official account on Twitter posted about XZ. The thing is, he has no projects with Youku apart from Marvelous City. In the meantime we know who their VIP Ambassador is — Yibo. It’s a nice coincidence but I think the account posted since XZ is famous with international fans and frequently trends on twitter, so it’s a way for the account to get some exposure to overseas fans. This would have been more sus to me if the Youku account over at weibo posted about him. Lol.

• crown symbol appears

• Analysis of XZ’s 7/12/2022 post : yibo checking, green moon, attorney woo kdrama and whales 🐳 ; Also a parallel from the episode & WangXian.

• KXZ posts about the Moon and missing someone. I don’t think they are necessarily cueing CPF because of that. What I got from it is the whole Moon being a symbol of missing someone when you take a picture of it is not CPF imagination. What is also weird is I don’t see solos posting so much about that narrative when the photos were released— it was mostly CPF. Sooooo...

• CPN thoughts on XZ’s 7/15/2022 Oasis post : the number 25 and other coincidences + same carpet as SDC (?) & why he used that emoji.

• 7/17/2022 LRLG Rumor analysis / translation

• There are theories that XZ was at Web’s hotel 7/16, this whole thing is so reminiscent of what happened during BAH/SDC 2020. Where Web can’t wait to get off work. The reason is, Bobo was found to be at the hotel twice within the day. He came back twice. Why can’t he just be on set? People were saying there are so many scenes being filmed but he stayed there for like an hour then went back on set which is 2 hours travel time ( back and forth ). What’s so special at his hotel? 🐰

Then some yellow clowns brought up an interview where Web said he has little time to practice dance — so he does it in the shower. Hmmmmm. 😏

"Dancing certainly is a part of me because it's something I started to learn as a child."

Dancing is his greatest instinct. Despite his packed schedule, he adheres to the principle that he has to be diligent. "Actually, I almost have no time to devote to dancing practice. Usually, I practice to music when I take breaks from work. But that can happen anytime, anywhere. Sometimes I dance during showers, hahahaha,"

Wang Yibo was unable to restrain a laughter.

• On 7/18, this went on HS: Wang Yibo, Song Yier and the Fox Demon King Power Chapter. A rumor that Yibo is gonna star in a Drama. Song Yi is the one who played Baili’s wife in Luoyang. This is not CPN but proof of how quick Yibo’s team is when it comes to refuting rumors. This was quickly denied by big fan accounts and then the producer himself had to speak up and say it’s not true. The point is, if he wants his name out of the HS and a rumor, he will do it. Whether that’s a future project or a potential relationship with someone. Sooooo 🤷🏻‍♀️

• Galaxy brain clowning with WYB’s Lenovo Ad

• Onset of YGY, A bottle of Master Kong Iced tea was spotted. Lol. Yes it is a favorite drink among people in China but what are the odds. A brand endorsed by Yibo. Also this is not the first time that a brand Yibo endorses showed up in GG’s workplace 😏

• Throwback galaxy CPNs ( CQL lego clue, Budapest, Same drawings and Satisfied single )

• BoXiao and Spongebob

• CPN + Brightest Star in the Night Sky

• Yibo turning off/on the related users on his account + the bitter truth to why it happened

• Collection of candies: Random connections, Braun Little Prince Drawing, 🤟🏼 and Spiderman.

• Xiao Zhan clearing his related user

• Revisiting their Day Day Up 2019 playlist

• Gachapon / Claw machine

• Running to you with All I have - song CPN

• Iced Americano in YBO comic

• 6KKI brand

• Part III of the related user CPN

• The Ultraman Pose and X for Xnine! It’s a cute coincidence cause the one done by Web is not just that move. It’s a dance routine ✌🏼

AUGUST 2022

• The 8/4 coincidence. Back in 2021, YGY wrapped up. This year, One and Only filming ended.

• During 8.5, everyone was waiting for YBO to post but they didn’t. Yibo went online to delete the automatic birthday banner on his account where everyone can post. What we noticed is GG has a hidden weibo post that appeared around the same time Web was online. We CPN that GG posted something in private just for them. We don’t know at this point what their schedule is but there is some chance of them meeting. It was a quiet birthday on Yibo’s part because of Political tensions.

• BoXiao and Bamboo 🎋

• One and Only behind the scenes has this line : Hope you meet soon. The one who made you a kid again. ; It reminded BXGs of how he and XZ were so child like during filming of CQL. Love makes you act like a child. 🥺

• 8/8, a supposed Yuehua Contract of Yibo was going around where it states he is signed with them till 10/2026. Of course our 2026 sensitive turtle brains are all over it because it’s such a coincidence.

• 8/9, Bobo was photographed leaving Hangzhou and the bone necklace makes an appearance again. SDC photos were also released and we noticed some things like another flower theme 🌺

• 8/10, Bobo’s Big Show Captain Dance teaser was released and so we see another patch. Same place. If you don’t know the CPN to this, it’s the tattoo rumor. This is not the best photo, but do you see the skin toned plaster?

• Xiao Zhan as the announcement bird for Being A Hero’s broadcast.

• 8/11, Bobo was photographed wearing the bone necklace and this time, it’s out of his shirt. Unlike the other day. This is interesting because the night before there was a hot search about XZ being single. This seems like a message to those who pay attention. He still has the 🦴. The relationship is stable!

• 8/13/2022 candy round up - gg’s ysl photos and some sdc 5 episode 1 things

• Yibo’s Moon Brooch @ Weibo Movie Night ; Also, he left as soon as his part was over. He was photographed leaving wearing casual clothes on and the bone necklace. They are in Beijing, so people are saying he wants to go home early 🏡

• YBO & XZS “be like” similarity 💕

• Monday sweetness : folding clothes, same vegetable dish, signing close to X2 that looks like XZ, mosquito patch etc.

• 8/19 yibo airport cpn, last resort shoes, new rufeng bts video shared

• 8/24, the both went on HS because the 2019 KTV recording of when they sang CONTENTMENT was re uploaded on Kugou Music.

more on the backstory of this recording as well as cpn song analysis over here.

* small CPNs - BAH interview clues, tod’s timeless and bts of XZ looking for yibo

* Zwilling live sweets

* SDC 5 episode 3 things : Hachiko and Yibo holding the bone necklace

* Chanel Boy Necklace

* Evidence of Yibo wearing Daisy Star necklace during BAH shooting

* Zhan Zhan’s has a skateboard?

SEPTEMBER 2022

• number coincidences in BAH

• DDU features a grafitti wall in Chongqing with BJYX writings

• 9/2 - 9/4 candies - asian games statement regarding one & only, hotpot episode clues, roborock endorsements and BAH double standards.

• The 95% reading

• YBO shares a video of Bobo playing frisbee and the BGM is the same as XZS’ where GG was also playing frisbee

• A new 🦴 necklace development. It is engraved with the character that means KING.

• Mid-Autumn Festival Candies

• 9/11 LRLG Rumor

• Random CPN recurrence : Yibo as Luffy + Yibo drinking from a big watter bottle

• Minor sweets : BTF behind the scenes red bracelet, Evisu jacket, Cool Kids douyin, BJYX ST increasing in number and BANANAIN 33

• Same / Similar logo 8 and XZ

• IT TAKES TWO ( game ) CPN

• CPN on Yibo-Official’s message on 8 year anniv

• Xiao Zhan XX bag

• Heart with a Mole @ xinxiangyin’s ad

• CPN on Yibo’s fears as per SDC Micro Movie

• More brand coincidence

• smol cpn post : web’s aircraft drawing, camping cpn, brand association and same douyin actions

• tasogare short film cpns : skateboard | glasses, mole and hangzhou westlake

• Chen Shuo x Sheng Yang CP ( same shoes ) + Rio

OCTOBER 2022

• Web’s sus reaction in SDC 5 episode 8, when it was mentioned that the performance will be a sichuan-chongqing love story. Also, the camera only showed his reaction. Shouldn’t it be nathan cause he is always saying that his wife is from Sichuan?

He was also nodding along when Nathan was talking about having a s/o from that region. Lol. Why?

• BXGs have noticed their preference for tank tops recently. There was a fake rumor before that was about them buying black and white tops so this might be a product of that. Not complaining tho.

• Aquamarine gucci head necklace

• GG’s birthday, Yibo had a hidden weibo post 🥺 1121 to 1122.

• both of them promoting the hangzhou asian games! they really are the go-to ambassadors when you wanna reach the international audience 🤍

• same shoes again ( starwalk ) ; sailormoon and same pose.

• yibo chooses scissors in the game

• gg’s dior top as inspo for web’s SDC look

• yibo saying cycling is a good exercise

• times when LRLG was telling the truth

• similar art style @ let’s chat episode 10 + yibo avoiding the question about a necklace

• OOL deletes fanvids and GG’s possible involvement

• A tale of two selfies : GG’s 11/21/2019 selfie + Yibo’s 11/2/2019 selfie

• This MINDFUCK photo of Yibo. Yes, it’s Yibo. They really look alike depending on what they wear and the angle.

• Compilation : SDC Finale Candies ; and just to add onto this, Bobo was wearing all Stars. and then the next day, 10/30, XZ’s nars campaign is star themed.

• more cpn on the star themed clothes x nars livestream

• 10/31 livestream madness - same day product launch

NOVEMBER 2022

• Both XZ & WYB ; XZS and YBO leveled up their VIP status on Weibo, using the 11.11 deals for weibo membership. XZ did it first and even went on HS midnight onwards. The next day, WYB followed suit and it was public too ; allowing the blog post to be visible. Same with the studios they both published 2 mins apart from each other. Lol. Usually, people will delete this notification or not have it made public.

They both made it into HS too because of it. 😂

Wang Yibo goes online to recharge Weibo member 456610

Xiao Zhan went online late at night to recharge Weibo membership 442681

Other accounts did follow as well as celebrities, but the boys and their studios were definitely the first ones.

and then another one, a few days later on 11/5 both studios posted photo sets 10 mins apart. I can understand why XZS will post on the time it did cause it’s 30 mins from the livestream. YBO could easily post at 20:00 since it’s the timeslot of SDC which is not on air that day — they can treat it as a post SDC gift. but no. HAHAHAHAHA! As if we needed any more reason to think their teams are coordinated.

• Matt the Catt 🤍 ( this has been washed, it’s not the same cat but it’s cool that ZZ and WYB but usually work with LIN studios for their ads. resource sharing! )

• VWL shoes

• Yibo-official using a photo that has turtle LED signs + fake rumor associated with the blue beanie

• CPN compilation: same endorsement production teams, same brand amiri worn during their livestreams, tasogare hint, love is number 8 in xzs post.

• Acupressure point

• Same Thailand FM costume worn in Our Song 😂

• Similar forest scene in Ads

• Fake story about holding hands : i’m out of power

• GG’s secret message to keep warm

• 11/13 douyin posts CPN + 1

• Explanation of GG’s weibo stock photo post

• XZS 11/22 vlog candies

• sun/sunflower cpn part ii

• 11/23 yibo-official rehearsal vlog sweets

• kitty fighting gifs

• Moncler x Tod’s collab

• WYB bringing winter clothes to XZ who is in Shanghai

• LRLG 11/28/2022

• Candy Round-Up Weibo Night 2022

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

• Same pose with their fingers

• CPN on XZS not sharing behind the scenes content for photoshoots when WYB is present at the event

DECEMBER 2022

• Accidental Candy : Red Phone case 📱

• GG uses a Tod’s bag with lion theme

• 12/6 Xiao Zhan airport clues + Addressing the video leak

• CPN Archaeology : skateboard as a distraction after 2019 tencent starlight, white hair and W hotel

• 12/8 Chanel dinner minor candies

• 12/9 2022 TV series awards recommendation. YBO posts about Chen Yu and XZ posts Gu Wei. Uhmmm Hello ChenWei 🤍

• 12/10, Luxury Couple! WYB for Chanel & GG for Gucci.

• New Wuji recording BTS shared by Chengyi

• 12/15 GQ MOTY candies

• 12/16 One said Good Night, the other said Good Morning.

• Chengyi confirms Wuji holding hands + here are my thoughts on this whole thing and a bit of a timeline on things that happened after.

• YBO posted with their IP in Beijing and the time is 17:17. The number is a homonym for “ 一起together”. A coincidence since XZ left at approximately 17:00 to go to BJ. So it’s a clue that they are together in BJ. There were also rumors that Bobo’s new song was recorded this day, so it adds to the CPN that they are together. much more to the speculation that ZZ was there while he is recording.

• Another fanfic artwork by Chengyi. This time, a fake story about WYB post GQ 2019 ( allegedly ) eating instant noodles after the event. An after work snack. Then the design on the packets are rabbits, so he took a picture and shared it among his circle of friends. People are saying it’s this instant noodle for kids! Hahahahahaha! So cuteeee!!

• 12/20 Yibo weibo post with the BGM of Lucky + Tencent Starlight Candy being sort of confirmed ( yibo at gg’s rehearsal ). >>> The 10c rehearsal candy being sort of confirmed is one of my favorites from this year. just goes to show that CPNs do come true, especially CPNs like this.

• XZS and YBO using the same word in their captions on the same days! Again, they are dating.

• 12/24 Christmas Eve CPN - revisiting the 2020 GG birthday CPN, same greetings and handwriting ( there are more comparison posts about the handwriting but we’re really not experts but it looks so similar ) , zsww fake rumor about missing you and new tidbits

• Yibo’s new single, concept poster teaser cpn + similarity with GG’s drawing. (1/12) A company posted about their work on the teaser visual and his nye stage, but not the single artwork. Last year, no one even claimed anything. but now someone did but did not own up to all of it. Why not? It’s another one of those things that no one claimed an important piece of artwork connected to yibo.

• Yibo being announced as a performer @ Dragon TV NYE Party and his poster photo being his Douyin outfit. Another example of him using photos from when he was in events with GG.

• GG showing up in Chonqing wearing green pants that look very similar to what Yibo has been wearing. So the thing is, during his personal time, Web has been wearing a certain type of green pants, even seen in his GQ event rehearsal. Then GG suddenly shows up with a similar looking one. 🙃 People are saying it’s the EPIDEMIC one, and Bobo has a matching black version of that. But it’s too similar to what Bobo was wearing for his past engagements, and knowing that they were both just in Beijing together, it screams borrowing each other’s clothes.

• Single teaser 2/12 cpn

• Like The Sunshine / Like Sunlight Analysis post

• ZZ’s 12/30 weibo video and photos

• For Yibo’s SUPER X Ad, we can see stars and bones in what he is wearing. Another recurring imagery for him. I am personally fond of when he wears skeleton/bones because it’s a connection to the 🦴 necklace.

That’s a Wrap for 2022! I will be sharing 12/31 candies tomorrow but that is gonna be included in the 2023 post. We have been very fortunate to have these sweets in the latter half of the month and it’s all thanks to XZ & WYB.

See you all next year for another round up! 👋🏼

#yizhan #bjyx #bjyxszd #this is all CPN

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