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#when they blatantly copied without even telling me or giving me credit too
luvdsc · 3 years
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first i get notified about someone copying my writing style / format / fic ideas (i think?? i skimmed really quick but i saw some similarities) and then i find out someone else copied my navi / format / ideas like my god, i know it’s fanfic and it’s not that deep but is it so hard to be original ): 
i am really too tired to deal with all of this, so i’m going to take a bit of a break for now. i hope you all stay safe and have a nice week ahead, honey bees 💛
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occasionalrpmemes · 2 years
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LA by Night:  What I Am sentence starters
sentences taken from s1ep5 of the VtM chronicle LA by Night.  edit as desired.  the transcript these lines were copied from, including credits to transcribers, will be linked in the replies of this post.
tw: violence, death / undeath, panic, foul language
“Where were you?  I was worried about you, man.  I've been, like, texting you.”
“Dudes came to kill us, and you were like, nowhere to be found.”
“Where's security?”
“Could we avoid having the whole plague of Egypt thing?”
“Because I totally believe you when you tell me things.”
“You can lay low here.”
“Food, parties, boys, girls, whatever you want.  It's all here to have a good time. ”
“This honestly puts us in a position to be able to make things better.”  –  “Or make things worse, or die.”
“We're already dead.”
“I'll protect you, [name].  It'll be fine.  It'll be fine.”
“Sure, why not?  I only just met you, but sure.  Sure.  Go ahead.”
“I'm better than you think I am.”
“You get over missing it.  It gets better.”
“I knew it.  I knew there was something wrong.”
“I have good gut instincts on things like this and I was right.”
[text:]  Two things.  One:  I don't know.  Two:  Don't text me again.
“So, you really do need my help.”
“Alright, well, I have a few requests.”
“What do you want?  What do you need?”
“I have several types.  But, I think my very favorite is the scum of the earth. ”
“This is why we can't have nice things, you know?”
[comes in for a hug]  “I really was worried about you, man.”
“That's great.  Please don't touch me.”
“Doing okay?”  –  “I'm sorry, that's a complicated question even though it's very straight-forward.”
“I'm not going to lie.  It's not easy.  It's not supposed to be easy.”
“You're fucking bad-ass.”
“There's no such thing.  You can't care too much. ”
“You are special.  Don't lose that, don't let them beat it out of you.  Keep it.”
“I want to go hang out in the steam tunnels with you and the rats!”
“Oh, for fuck's sake.  You were here the whole time? ”
“I couldn't give less of a shit about anyone else here.  Except for [x].”
[text:]  I'm at your disposal.
“It's nice to see you.  You haven't been around for a while.”
[text:]  You know you love it.  You know you love it.
[crying]
“It's alright.  It'll be okay.”  –  “It's not okay.  It's not okay.  I don't know what to do.  I don't know—”
“It'll be okay.  You're not alone.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake.  If we're going to do this, I recommend not doing it around here.”
“I guess it's got to happen sometime.  Might as well be tonight.”
“If you hurt [x], I will execute you.”
[blatantly insincere]  “No.  Stop.  Help.”
“You did this to me!”
“You need to stop.”
“Listen to your friends, babydoll.”
“I know you're angry, you're right to be angry.”
“You killed me.”
“Who the fuck are you and what gave you the right?”
“I appreciate you validating my feelings.”
“You are frankly deeply interesting.  I've been watching you for quite a while.”
“There's something about you that honestly I think the world shouldn't do without.”
“That was some amazing arson.  I mean, I've done my own arson in my time but I know good work when I see it.”
“I made a judgement call.  I'm not apologizing for it.”
“You know what I'm capable of.  As long as you speak honestly... I think this might work out all right for you.”
“We can step into my office and have a pleasant conversation, or I can turn up tonight where you live and then the conversation will be a lot less pleasant. ”
“I've had a long week, alright?”
“You don't look like you are feeling well at all.”
“Human interactions are fucking exhausting.”
“This is the opposite of great.”
“This was not what I wanted.  I didn't know what else to do.”
“You were too good for the earth.”
“I think you're going to do great things.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Okay.  Well, I fucking hate you—”
“Yeah, no one got hurt.  Except you.”
“I survived.”
“Maybe you should have just let me die.”
“We don't let things happen.  You take a stand and you deal with it.”
“If something needs changing, you change it, and if a building protects something evil, you burn it to the fucking ground.”
[text:]  I'm sorry baby, I can't make it, I'll explain later.
[text:]  Trust me.  I love you.  Be safe!!!!
“Learn from my mistakes.”
[crashes through a window]
“Hey, did you hear that?”
“Tell me what I fucking want to know or I'm going to rip your head off.”
“Hey!  Party time, right?”
“You should get out of here.”
“Please don't kill me!”
“Oh, fuck me!”
“It's getting very, very strange.”
“When they disappoint you, when their answers disappoint you, just find me.”
“I'm sorry, babydoll, and I'm so proud of you.”
“Do you feel that they deserved to die?”
“No, no, shut up!  No!  You've done enough!”
“Plan B is just to kill him.”
“It's okay to be calm for now.  You can always murder later.”
“You're just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It's not personal, it's just- It's just business.”
“Well, boo fucking hoo, bro!”
“You don't have to do this.”  –  “Yeah, yeah, we do.  There's no other way for us.”
[high-pitched, pitiful attempts to speak]
“Happy Unbirthday, babydoll.”
“I don't think you're a bad person.”
“What could possibly go wrong?”
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sooibian · 4 years
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Stranger Things (1)
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader ft. Kyungsoo
Genre: Fluff, meet cute, non-idol AU
Description: While waiting to receive Kyungsoo at the airport you run into an insufferable someone - Byun Baekhyun. Despite yourself, you are unable to resist his charms.
A/N: No BaekSoo, no life. Know BaekSoo, know life. This is a highly self indulgent oneshot because I simply cannot resist bobohu anymore. Also if I edit, I’ll never upload. So please, bear with this unedited mess and bad humor (: and try not to hate on OC! 
Word Count: ~ 2k
Chapters: One | Two | Three��| Four (Final)
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gif credits: @x-exo​
“He’s a lawyer”, you tilted your head to the side with your nose in the air, foolishly waving your platinum band bearing hand in his general direction. Byun Baekhyun, the man you’d met barely thirty minutes ago, had managed to bring out your inner “chatty Cathy” while eyeing you with the slightest of the smirks tugged at his lips. It was nauseating. The smirk, his bouffant persona, the way he slurped his ramen, his unkempt fake blond hair - he insisted on running a hand though the annoying yet bountiful tousle ever so often  - disheveling it further. One glance at his showy Rolex and you’d written him off as a wealthy fop. Yet, here you were, seated in front of him, trying to make sense of the situation. 
Kyungsoo’s flight was delayed by over an hour. Although you wanted nothing more than to find the inviting comfort of your bed, you decided to keep your promise of picking him up from the airport. Even if it meant spending time with this strange (literally and figuratively) man. You were no night owl. Therefore, you needed the caffeine fix to stay conscious so you huddled to the coffee shop closest to the arrival gate only to run into him again. The single vacant seat happened to be on his tiny table which he graciously put up for offer - I’m Byun Baekhyun. And I don’t bite! Apart from the unbridled desire to prick his inflated ego with a needle, you realized you’d come on a bit too strong earlier when he mistakenly put his hand on yours while going for the same copy of Forbes in the magazine kiosk. Was he apologetic then? No. Not really. But you didn’t have to pull an ugly face and call him a creep. Sure, lack of sleep made you crabby but you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. It wasn’t your best moment. 
You took the seat because (a) never had a person made you feel so conflicted about them. Always too quick to judge, within a few moments you could tell whether you liked someone or absolutely didn’t care about them. But with him you honestly couldn’t figure out whether you loathed him or were in absolute awe of his unabashed demeanor (b) you wanted to make absolutely unnecessary amends. 
“What was his name, again?”, stretching and yawning he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders widened to full glory. Lazily, he ran a hand over his chest. Realization hit you like a truck. You were blatantly staring and he’d caught you in the act. Your eyes met his and it made you want to punch that stupid, now very prominent, smirk off of his face. It was time for damage control. Attack, after all, is the best defense.
“Looks like you’re bored. I shall stop”, you said tersely, moving to quickly grab your things.
“It’s 2:45 a.m. Can you blame me?”, he yanked your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his back pocket, “Continue the story”
“Yahhhhh, give me back my wallet”, you glowered at him.
“Story first”, he sang pulling the wallet out and waving it at you. “Yahhh!”, as you lunged forward, he instinctively drew further back. Frowning, he suddenly ducked under the table.
“What - what happened?”, a quizzical expression clouded your face.
“I’m looking for something”, he mumbled rising gradually. Was that a pout?
“Yah, I can tell. What are you looking for?”
“Your manners. You seem to have suddenly dropped them somewhere”
 You felt your face flame, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi!”
“Please, you can call me oppa”
“I may be older, you know?”
“Your cheeks tell an entirely different story”, he chuckled
Fuming, you untied your hair in a desperate attempt to frame your perfectly round face, “Doh Kyungsoo”, you deadpanned.
“Byun Baekhyun”, confused, he pointed at himself.
“Doh Kyungsoo, my fiance”
“Ah… Sounds as boring as ‘civil lawyer’”
“How did you know?? I don’t remember mentioning -”
“Ha! So he is a civil lawyer! So what do your dates look like? Haunting worn down museums? Marvelling over runes?”, he swayed dreamily, eyelids fluttering.
Your saccharine smile didn’t reach your eyes, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi, what do your dates with your girl look like?”
You were surprised to see a genuine smile grace his face. Albeit unconsciously, you mirrored him. It was warm and luminous, his smile, and you were enchanted.
“Ahem”, the ridiculous smirk came back on, “Dates with my Yoona?”
So, there is a girl. You felt a slight pang of jealousy. You prayed for it to not reflect in your eyes.
“My Yoona?” you gagged dramatically and he responded with an equally dramatic loud sigh.
“Let’s see….long walks by the Han river, a little after sunset.. We walk all the way up to the Namsan Tower. She looks radiant in the moonlight… just my Yoona and me...relaxing...chilling”, he smiled like a heavily infatuated thirteen year old.
“That’s a really long walk. Oppa doesn’t have a driver’s license?”, you chided.
He guffawed, “Guess you and Mr. - ?
“Doh! Mr. Doh of Doh, Gom and Associates!”, 
“Yes, you and Mr. Doh of Doh - Gom - and Associates”, his words slow, deliberate, “wouldn’t recognize romance if it danced naked in front of you. And that platinum band”, he paused, slowly shaking his head.
You drew your hand close to your chest defensively, “What about it?”
“So… a very close friend of mine got engaged recently and I went ring shopping with him. It was an intense drill. But now I know all there is to know about the right cut, hallmark, color, purity, you get the drift. And that”, he took a piteous glance at the ring.
“I could really do without the condescension”
“I’m sorry, but it looks thrift store bought”
“Baekhyun-ssi, your limited experience may have falsely led you into believing that you’re a connoisseur of platinum. But if you care to look past your high-end store shopping spree, you’ll see that this is heirloom”
“Does it have P-950 stamped on it?”
Your glare shut him up and he raised his hands in surrender. Pouting. Again.
You gawked at him in pure admiration. How could a man like that be capable of the most endearing pouts was beyond you.
“Look, I don’t know if you care about Kyungsoo but the flight should’ve landed by now and I don’t want to keep my friend waiting after a red eye flight… so”, he got up to leave and you hurriedly followed suit, “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you”
Your hand met his in a firm handshake which neither of you cared to break for a good thirty seconds. You knew you’d never see this man again and you felt a certain unpleasantness wash over you at the thought. 
His captivating grin made an appearance, accelerating your heartbeat.
You exited the coffee shop first and when you turned around to look for him, he was gone.
***
You greeted Kyungsoo with a punch in the shoulder, “You’re late”
“I tried but they wouldn’t let me into the cockpit”, he said pinching your ear with one hand and twisting your arm with the other.
You successfully managed to wiggle of his strong grasp and attack him with a bear hug, “I’ve missed you”
He softly patted your head before your show of affection started to smother him. Breaking out of your hug he teased, “Tsk, tsk, you’ve grown soft”
“Can you blame me? My best friend moved to a strange city to farm! He’s not been around much to toughen me up” You didn’t care that he hated it. You leaned in to hug him, anyway, “any progress on the land dispute?”
“I’ll be seeing a lawyer for it”, he indulged you by continuing to gently sway you. Apparently, he’d missed you, too.
“Hmm...a civil lawyer”, you contemplated. 
“What’s that?”
“Nothing”, you sighed pulling away from him to call a cab, “When are you seeing this lawyer”
“Right now”
“What? Kyungsoo! It’s 4 in the morning! Can’t this wait?
“No”, he deftly locked your phone, “because he also happens to be a friend of mine and he’s here and he has offered to drive us home”
“He’s here?”
Kyungsoo forced your head to take a 180 degree turn.
You froze at the sight of the blond haired man standing in front of you. Your eyes barely short of pleading, you grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand lacing your fingers with his.
Baekhyun chuckled, “Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you were engaged!”
“Engaged? No, I’m not engaged!” Kyungsoo's voice now a several notches louder.
You were quick to nudge Kyungsoo’s arm with your elbow and snicker softly, “He likes to joke when he’s tired...We’re all tired. Won’t you bring your car now, Baekhyun-ssi?”
“You two know each other?” Nothing made sense to Kyungsoo anymore.
Your feeble No was drowned by Baekhyun’s loud Yes.
“Anyway..”, Kyungsoo introduced you to Baekhyun as his best friend and it made you want to be on the next expedition to Mars. 
“And this is Byun Baekhyun. My elementary school friend”. Baekhyun handed you a business card which you accepted with trembling fingers.
Byun, Park and Associates
Byun Baekhyun
Partner
LL.M.
You were mentally prepared to go on a solo expedition to Neptune and freeze to death.
“We lost touch in high school only to meet again at Jongdae’s engagement party”
Platinum, Baekhyun mouthed when your guilt ridden eyes met his.
“And he has very kindly agreed to help me out with my case”
***
“What- What the hell was that?”, Kyungsoo hissed.
“I don’t know… at first I didn’t want him to think I was available. So I started to spin a web of lies. Then I was curious to see how far I could go, you know, without faltering. Besides, you always keep calling me a bad liar. He was just...in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess…”, you let out a huge yawn.
Kyungsoo flicked your forehead. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to be your guinea pig? It had to be my lawyer? The airport is swarming with people - ”
“AND viruses!”, you adjusted your mask pointedly, “Yet, here I am. For your ungrateful ass!”
“Soo! HELP”, you cried.
“Forget this ever happened. You’re never going to see him again, anyway”, he was dismissive of your plea.
“Soo, but I want to”, you said in a small voice.
Kyungsoo was too dumbfounded to speak. His eyes did all the talking.
“I want to see him again”, you avoided his eyes.
Still, nothing.
“It’s a crisis situation, Soo!”, defeated, your face slumped into his chest, “I think I’m in love with a man who apparently has a girlfriend and most probably thinks that I’m a pathological liar.”
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violetsystems · 4 years
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#personal
My connection is super trashy this morning much like the cards I’ve been dealt in life these days.  It seems like my actual turn in whatever game is in play gets ignored more blatantly.  I found an old USB on the shelf cleaning a couple of days ago.  On it was a copy of Rise of Skywalker, Ninku, and Blade Runner.  I’ve watched Blade Runner a thousand times and never picked up on the chess game.  Bishop to King Seven.  A famous move I made the link to in a post here only countered by forking in tandem with the opposing knight.  The Immortal Game.  Sometimes if you really believed you were living in a simulation there’s magic moments such as that.  To me it’s really just the poetry of my life I live with nobody else gets but me.  I write about it sure.  I listen to Steely Dan all day too.  Nobody wants to hear from men right now I get it.  Especially Jerry Saltz and the neoliberal elite.  But that’s where I came from.  And judging from the dead responses on LinkedIn when it comes to networking, people would rather forget I even existed.  I feel like sometimes I get the hint and most of the last three months has been hobbling away from that.  My generation was the first generation after the boomers to be forgotten about.  We were in constant rebellion at the sheer audacity of how we were supposed to live.  Subsequently we were never really designed to rise up from under that thumb unless we were part of the family.  And the one thing I’ve learned from the tax hell I look at every day in my financial planning is that families definitely have more opportunities to avoid paying their fair share of taxes.  I’m an only child.  Never been married.  Never had children.  Mentored enough people to know I’d be a good father.  But overlooked, ridiculed and shunned enough to feel like I’m worthless.  Ironically for the first time in my life, I’m worth something on paper to a bank and a credit union.  Possibly to the companies I still hold equity in.  But for me it’s a very unique situation to be in.  Painted in a fucking corner with nobody to tell you what to do other than your better judgement.  I don’t wonder if my plan for the next year is right for the long run.  The long run has been just that.  Twenty years of my life just vanishing in a blink.  People eerily waiting for you get the hint.  Appalled at the audacity, like Terrell when Roy Batty confronts his maker.  Why can’t I live?  Everything out of Terrell’s mouth is an excuse.  Replicants were made to serve not made to last.  Every last inch of life has been accounted for and speculated against.  Terrell and the makers coo that you should feel great joy you have a purpose in their eyes.  And yet I’ve seen things you humans wouldn’t believe. I’ve seen everything in my old office disappear into the trash without any real confirmation.  I’ve seen friends I helped through thick and thin respond cold, callous and on some sort of script fearing legal action.  I’ve seen barely anyone but my neighbors between grocery drop offs.  And most likely they’re just nosy. 
Everyone makes sure they are in proximity of me when I crack and open up to the world.  This is still people’s assumption.  That I’m looking for new friends after all of this.  That my vulnerability can be further speculated on.  That I can still be trapped.  After sitting here with no closure listening to people’s problems but having my own go completely unnoticed.  Much like the replicants in Blade Runner, I have no prime directive other than to walk around and look cool in military upcycled gear.  I check my LinkedIn notifications to look for jobs.  There are some bright spots.  Mostly in China.  Everything else is a team of salesmen and recruiters looking for desperate contractors to overhaul IT departments they bought after laying off entire staff.  It’s the equivalent of getting back into the market like a scab.  All the salaries are the same for these kinds of jobs.  And it would be a lateral move with no pay increase.  These are for profit jobs.  I spent twenty years in a non profit with barely a cost of living raise.  That was the salary I achieved.  Nielsen Gallup polls and artistic corporate analysis has stolen everything from me, including my non profit salary and made it the new normal.  I was barely able to escape any sort of lifestyle creep including debt.  I chewed my way out of it alone.  Made to feel undesirable and worthless.  Received a few lump sums after the reduction of force.  And the markets are beating the war drum out there like the best thing to do is to put it all back in the hands of corporations that won’t look me in the eye to hire me.  All the while, people pretend that I’m not real enough to talk to.  I’m a ghost that conflicts the lies people hope no one uncovers.  An inconvenient truth to even myself.  And this is where the politics stop for me.  I have to live like everyone else.  America is on a collision course with everything these days.  Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a shining light of hope for getting out of the clutches of disturbing Christian White men who treat money like a whip.  Mitch McConnell is already dancing on her grave at this point.  These people have no shame.  Trying to push a supreme court candidate before the elections to further their political agenda.  An agenda that has nothing to do with respect for freedom unless it benefits their interests and way of life.  The American dream in this respect is and has always been a total lie.  To be betrayed by it and left for dead is something I have already learned from.  And my grand chess move is the same as it was a few weeks ago.  In the meantime I sold all my blizzard stock to buy IBM while they partner with London fashion week.  Even if the speculative value of my portfolio is trash, that trade confirmation went through loud and clear.  We all have different values in America for sure.  But the people who bought and lobbied their way into offices have little value to me.  
The way things look for me, I will be sitting out until February at the earliest.  I’ve budgeted myself out with health insurance.  The premiums are fucking outrageous and I had a chance to open enroll two weeks before I was let go.  I could have softened the financial burden if somebody would have just let me know.   If I would have had any lead time I would have made some different decisions.  But after twenty years, I was treated in a way that sent a real message.  One that nobody seems to be able to carry the weight of other than me.  It’s a unique situation.  Capitalists would love to shower praise on it as being the spirit of entrepreneurship.  But we all know that’s some Ayn Rand survival of the fittest bullshit.  There’s two choices.  You either believe the pyramid scheme and give up your money, power, and influence for the greater agenda.  Or you get ostracized.  Generation X in America was always an alienated group.  Maybe we were the first to realize how we were being scammed.  Some of us got dropped out of the nest and cracked.  The Kurt Kobains that succumbed to heroin and suicide.  The ground wasn’t very soft during those times.  A stable job seemed like an accomplishment.  Truthfully there are jobs out there that require over ten years of experience.  It’s a nice option to have.  A resume that actually looks like you’ve done something even if nobody wants to acknowledge you even existed.  But when I look around for answers in this city I find very little.  I have a safe place to stay for awhile without having to do much.  I got approved for a license for Ableton Live.  It’s the first time I’ve owned it.  I spent last night replacing the SSD in my laptop with a terabyte drive with faster read and write speeds.  With the ram upgrade I can do video and audio on the fly without blinking.  I write in my sleep and I communicate organically throughout all of this.  I’ve had to own my struggles and pain time and time again only to be buried.  And at this point, my friends down here realize my side of the story more than most.  And I’m sure it feels hurtful and hopeless to know what I’ve been through doesn’t mean all that much because I’m a Steely Dan fan.  The truth is people will grasp at straws to throw stones in a glass house.  Capitalism is a self destructive behavior.  There’s not enough to go around to feed the hungry shareholders, the investors, the financiers, the lawyers, the useless aspects of society speculate on paper currency and not human spirit.  We end up confronting it sooner or later.  And the answer we get is simple.  Bishop to King Seven is checkmate.  You have no more moves.  And I’m done hearing the excuses.  I have won the game.  I am simply waiting for your concession.  If I have to wait all winter, please know that I’ve burnt enough bridges to stay warm.  Hate to throw cold water on the plans to keep me obsolete.  My incept date passed a long time ago.  And while most of my past is lost in the rain, I am at least still human enough to cry.  Make no mistake I shed no tears for winning. <3 Tim
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kureikakashikaiba · 4 years
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Naruto Fanfiction - KakaxSaku: Three weeks later
Just an oneshot I wrote long time ago but I still like it a lot
Disclaimer: I don't own any Naruto characters, they all belong to Kishimoto-sensei.
Characters: Hatake Kakashi and Haruno Sakura
*************************************************
"Look who do we have here?"
A slurred girlish voice with a blatant hint of inebriation disrupts Kakashi's peaceful meditation over the sochu cup. So much for his determination to spend the night alone tonight. Of all people, she is the least he wants to bump into.
Inwardly sighing, the Copy Nin turns sideway to regard a soft-pink –hair framing face which is beaming at him with a lost but warm smile.
"Yo, Sakura-chan" - He returns her smile with his own vague one. His nose instantly picks up the strong tequila smell mixed up with her perfume and shampoo fragrance. He is not sure if he likes this combination but he has to admit that she looks just as disarming as ever.
Using the chandon bottle in her two hands as an anchor to keep her body steady, Sakura cranes her chin forward to regard the empty seat next to Kakashi:
"You're here alone Kakashi-sensei?"
Even though very tempted to say that he is waiting for someone else to shoo this intoxicated girl who smells like trouble away, Kakashi still cannot afford to be so blatantly rude:
"Yeah, as alone as I always am. You are here with friends? Nice choice" – He points promptly at the bottle of sparkling wine in her hand.
Sakura lifts the bottle up and mulls over it with a distant appreciation:
"This? A gift from my colleagues in the hospital for that. And No, I'm here alone too"
Great. No one drinks Tequila shots going to a pub alone without seeking trouble itself.
"How many shots have you drunk already, Sakura?" – Kakashi's voice turns stern, he doesn't mean it to sound that way but he can slip into his teacher mode faster than light speed around this girl.
Maybe subconsciously his self-defence mechanism has been activated to protect himself from things that he does not even fathom.
It's always better to draw the line between him and this girl
"Two or Three" – she holds up her fingers to indicate her answer, the drunk smile never leaves her face.
Tossing her winter coat on the stool's back, Sakura slips in the seat next to him without asking:
"So you're avoiding someone as well?"
Yes. From you.
"No, just want to be by myself" – Trying to ignore the sudden proximity between them, Kakashi takes another sip of the strong alcohol, the pungent taste burns his throat for one brief second before disappearing from within – "I'm surprised there is someone you want to avoid, aren't you supposed to go about celebrating now, it's only three more weeks, isn't it?"
"Let's not mention that, ok?" – the first time ever since she greeted him, her grin dissolves. His eyebrow slightly rises with her sudden mood swing. But as short as when it came, her mood swings back to the more cheery path almost instantly: "Well, it's a coincidence that we meet here, isn't it, let's make the most of it" – her voice turns jovial at her own suggestion.
Even when it is subtle, Kakashi can tell that she is certainly not happy with what is going to happen pretty soon in her life.
"How about I share with you my lovely Champaign and you give me some of that bitter, yucky shochu of yours" - The roseate head girl beckons to the bartender to bring her two more empty cups, and quickly shoves a 10 ryo note in his hand so he can pretend that he does not see her bringing her own alcohol in this bar. She even gives him a free wink after the cups arrive. Judging by his long enduring sigh, Kakashi can tell he is troubled with the mess this attractive gal may create later. But well, he will always have the security guard option, and this is his job and his work place anyway. They make money from troublesome people like his former student tonight. Her cheekiness sort of evokes a small smile from Kakashi nonetheless:
"Champaign and Sochu? Isn't it a weird combination"
"It is. But I feel like doing something that doesn't make sense today, why does everything have to make sense by the way? Can we just do meaningless thing once in a while?" – She shrugs and applies the smallest amount of chakra in her palm to suck the bottle cork out. The small exploding noise of the champagne bottle serves to punctuate her sentence.
Sensing a rather disheartened mood clumsily concealed by a fake jolly smile, Kakashi chooses to go along rather than digging other unwelcomed conversation up. He is never a nosey person in the first place:
"Of course we can do meaningless thing for a change" – he smiles at her only to receive a sceptical look:
"For a change? I've witnessed you doing so many meaningless things before" – she points out sharply, her mouth is trying to restrain quirky grin.
"Me? When did you see me doing unnecessary things?" – Kakashi counters the accusation calmly but a small smile is also playing on his lips
"Yes you do, so many silly things, like this" – poking at the small square-shaped swell from his pants' pocket, Sakura narrows her eyes then grins merrily when Kakashi levels her with a slightly menacing look:
"Insulting another's favourite hobby isn't nice, Sakura-chan"
"Oh, sorry, I don't know it is that meaningful to you" – She feigns a sincere sorry expression but the sarcasm in her voice is unmistaken, because she knows for sure that his ire is also an act: "It must be really hard to live amongst us - low-brow, uneducated people who could not appreciate porn written by an old peeping tom"
"I've never criticized your cheesy chic flicks and bednight story slash romance slash soft-core porn books you have in your kindles, haven't I?" – retorts Kakashi evenly after sipping another bit of sochu, his face as apathetic as ever.
Sakura's anger instantly rushes to flame up her cheeks:
"It's not soft core porn, it's well-written love story with logical development and wonderful characterisation that excites you to no end"
"Logical in a very incidental make-up situation that is completely unrealistic in real life? All are just to lead to a disappointing sex scene after a predictable life and dead scenario of some sorts, did I say soft-core porn for chicks – he carried on with ease, seemingly unaffected by the invisible daggers this rosy haired girl throws at him.
"They call it creating plot twists and climax, in case you don't know anything about creative writing. That's why the sexy bits are really sexy because they build up on emotion and suffering, not like the type of animal-like intercourses with weird positions that no one would try in real-life described in Jiraiya-sama's books."
Her voice starts to raise an octave and anger seeps through her glare. It is kinda lame of her to lose her cool head so fast in an argument when Kakashi just looks like he is having a good time there by succeeding in effotlessly provoking her. And shit, has she just slipped her tongue again? An amused smile creeps upon Kakashi's lips:
"So you do read Icha-icha"
"I…" – there's no point in denying after all – " errh, I means it's one of the best-selling series of all time right, I'm just curious…"– a deep blush taints the younger girl's cheeks as she has to lower her stare to the bar wooden top, momentarily unable to hold his scrutiny any further. This man has no shame when it takes very little to embarrass her.
Suddenly, a thought strikes her: "But hey, wait…when did you touch my kindles?" – She jerks her chin up immediately to face him accusingly, which makes the silver-haired man chuckles:
"I was bored in the hospital and you confiscated all of my reading materials, remember?"
It was a few months ago when Kakashi came back from a deadly mission with a serious injury on his back. Knowing this man's distaste towards staying in the hospital for intensive care and therapy, Sakura had to personally threaten to burn all of Kakashi's favourite series if he left the hospital before his treatment completed.
But no matter how badly wounded this man was, he was still Kakashi, proven by his intact stealth ability since when Sakura came back to the page where she left off in her Kindles, it was always the exact same page where she was reading before. But now come to think about it, the batteries did last slightly shorter than normal around that time.
"Remind me to check my credit card after meeting you, Kakashi-sensei" – Sakura says coldly with a frown while her hands finish pouring chandon into two cups. Pushing one towards her former teacher, the kunoichi puts on her smile again:
"This first, and then yours"
Reluctantly picking up the cup, Kakashi peers through the clear light golden liquid:
"Champagne in a cup, interesting?"
"Taste is all it matters, doesn't it, cup or glass is just the container" – picking up her own, Sakura breathes in the intoxicating smell.
"Oh, so you finally learn that beauty is only skin deep?" – Kakashi chances a glance at the former student's face teasingly but unexpectedly, these outwardly harmless words strikes up something deeper and more sensitive than he could realise as Sakura just goes still for brief moment and her stare becomes absent:
"Long time ago have I realised that…" – mutters Sakura, barely audible amongst the noise background of the bar's music and chattering.
"But it doesn't matter by the way, why don't we toast for something" – quickly recovers, Sakura raises her cup.
And a wise man like Kakashi always knows when he shouldn't pursue an awkward conversation:
"Good idea, how about a toast for you, Sakura-chan"
"No, a toast for us, Kakashi-sensei, when was the last time we talk like this?"
Probably nearly two years ago.
And it's all because he has been trying to avoid her since. They just got back to the normal level of their distant friendly term recently when that thing happened.
He remembers it was a similar night like this, the snowfall was a bit thicker, but she was still the same, disarmingly beautiful in her winter coat and slightly stunk of alcohol. Pink cheeks and glazed eyes that made normal men find it hard not to think of something else that could make her cheeks blushed deeper and her eyes glassier.
He should not think of her that way but it is impossible to ignore a gorgeous flower blooming by your side after all these years. Women are the strangest creatures. Their transformation can happen overnight. Still the same face, the same features, but one day, you suddenly realise how womanly their curves turn out, how charming their smiles are and how alluring their gaits exude when they move about. Just a simple tuck of their hair behind the ear could ask for your unconcerned eyes' attention without trying. Just a simple touch on your bicep when they check your injury could make your heart thump harder. Or maybe, it is just like this with Haruno Sakura. Someone who is totally off-limit.
But soon his agony of two years will end. Hopefully.
Raising his cup up to tap against hers with an audible clang, Kakashi smiles lightly:
"Ok, for us then, old teammate"
"and friend" – she finishes and they both gulp down the liquor in union. The sour, dry taste turning sweet when passing the oesophagus makes Sakura exclaims in delight:
"Sugoii, nice Champaign, not bad a present"
"You can't even wait for three more weeks to open it?" – Asks Kakashi, curious with Sakura's sudden yearning for alcohol.
"No, I feel like drinking anything I can get my hand on at the moment" – She bursts out laughing by how wrong it sounds for a professional medical practitioner as famous as her. Now she sounds like an alcoholic.
For some reasons, Kakashi cannot bring himself to share her humour. He knows something is up the moment she appears in this bar stunk of booze. As sensible and controlled as she is with her chakra, Sakura is never the type who has to depend on alcohol to avoid dealing with difficult situations in their life.
She is very much similar to Kakashi in this area. They drink for fun on occasions to celebrate with friends and when they feel like it. Unless, there is a serious problem that they feel at their dead end.
Considering, that will happen pretty soon, Kakashi finds it hard to believe it could be something else. Even if Sakura herself denies it. A small voice at the back of Kakashi's head immediately instigates him to stay out of the pink-haired trouble, and he is never the type who can comfort people in the first place but the other dominant part just keeps him glued to the seat next to her. He cannot explain it, but when she looks like this, smiles like this, he cannot abandon her no matter how much his pre-cautious nature tells him to.
"Sakura, what's wrong?" – placing his hand on her shoulder, Kakashi is surprised with how serious he actually sounds.
This catches Sakura off guard but she still manages to smile it away:
"Nothing" – that doesn't sound convincing in the least so she adds – "Just work, Tsunade-shishou just overwork me I guess"
"OK, as long as it's work, there's nothing worth worrying about" – He doesn't sound convinced but pressing people into confessing things is not Kakashi's style either. Reaching out to his own bottle of souchu, Kakashi pours the liquor into the two earlier Champaign-full cups:
"Here it is, don't spit it out on my face if you can't stand it. It costs money you know" – warns he.
Sakura snorts loudly: "What a cheap skate you are, Kakashi-sensei" and picking up the cup before tapping it against Kakashi's.
"Is this the first time you met me?" – clearly being amused by Sakura's frequent insults rather than getting riled up over it, Kakashi takes all of his strong booze down with two gulps and entertains himself with the suffering scowl of Sakura's face when the liquor literally burns her drinking pipe from the inside. At least she honours his words not spitting it out:
"Gosh, this is horrible"
"I didn't offer you to drink it in the first place" – Playing with the rim of his own cups, Kakashi grins merrily.
"So you can drink mine for free, no thank you" – Sakura quips – "It's not every day that someone can pry something off you, you know" – Sakura sticks her tongue out with a crunch of her nose bridge, unconsciously Kakashi finds it endearing but she should in any circumstance find out about this. This is his little secret.
Being with a sharp-tongued, highly intelligent and infuriatingly cute girl like this is always pleasant to a man who loves to silently challenge things like Kakashi. Maybe it's not too wrong to allow him this little luxury of being in her presence. Maybe, it's not too bad to be at the receiving end of her warm smiles even though they are fake. Because just three more weeks, these will soon become distant memories that he can only recollect in a lonely freezing night like this with just himself and a bottle of souchu. After all it is indeed too hard to deny himself of a lovely companion.
"So how is Tsunade-sama lately?"
"Still drunk and grumpy as ever, she said she couldn't wait until her retirement anymore. But Naruto is picking things up very quickly so I think she doesn't need to wait for long."
It's startling for Kakashi to see Naruto these days without realising how much of the likeness he has with his former sensei. Especially when the blonde shuts up and does not display that trademark foxy grin of his. His sensei up there must be so proud of this child.
"Is Hinata pregnant with the third child now?"
"Yes, seriously, knowing Naruto, he's very productive in every area I guess" – Sakura chortles while the third drink between them is poured from her Chandon bottle.
"I was surprised that you guys didn't hook up eventually" – words slip out of his tongue before he can stop himself, causing Sakura to pause her pouring and turn to eye him astoundingly:
"Naruto and I?"
"Yes, He was pretty much head over heel in love with you, wasn't he?"
"It's just a childhood infatuation, Kakashi-sensei, everyone has one and everyone grows out of it at some points" – Sakura points out – "you must've had one too, right sensei?"
"No, I was always too cool to take notice of no one" – Kakashi answers smoothly
"Liar" – for some reasons, she doesn't trust him – "you just don't want to admit that you were once young and stupid" – she laughs
"So you think Naruto was young and stupid when he liked you?" – the temptation to bait this feisty girl is always too much fun for Kakashi to reject.
"Well" – that gets her just right as Sakura is stammering to find a good come-back – "true love needs a bit of obstacles to overcome I guess, I was just a lovely and tempting obstacle that they need to make a detour around to find each other" – Sakura raises her shapely eyebrow to convey another proud and playful glint.
Clearly, she is lovely and tempting, but Kakashi still does not like her comparing herself with an obstacle. This honest and kind-hearted girl will never be an obstacle to anyone. He knows that she fell for Naruto briefly after Sasuke left for two and a half years. But she had stepped back after Hinata came into the scene. Maybe fighting over a boy was the very first important lesson his only female student had learnt in life that something is not worth pursuing. Or clearly, she never gets over her "silly and young" crush for someone else. He had thought that Naruto and Sakura could make the finest couple in Konoha just like his Sensei and Kushina-san. But life never turns out the way he thinks it should be.
"maybe I never notice Hinata much in the first place" – He concludes.
"I used to think that you hardly noticed anyone, Kakashi-sensei" – sneers Sakura with a hint of mischief.
"Used to?" – for some mystifying reason, Kakashi turns to bore meaningfully into Sakura's face: "What makes you think of me otherwise" – another consequence of his loose tongue again. Well he can blame it on the booze later. Considering the history between them, he may more or less know the answer but he just feels like pressing the button a bit.
Raucous laughter suddenly erupts from the door of the bar as a group of around ten chuunins just make their not so quiet entrance. It is not that quiet in the bar before with all of the chatters and loud music, now it just gets worse. Maybe that is the reason why she suddenly needs to lean in very close to his ear, so close that he can feel the cool air coming out from her parting lips, causing his sensitive skin tingle treacherously:
"Ever since I find out that you're just clumsy with emotions, that's all" – she answers meaningfully.
"But I'm not that clumsy amongst other things, am I?" – now it's Kakashi's round to return the favour as he whispers back into her ear, so close that his lips nearly brush its rim. The effect cannot be missed as small shudder cannot lock itself from Sakura's petite frame. And her fluttered downward eyelashes are just another obvious pointer of his influence on her. The light in the bar is dim but Kakashi can still feel her cheeks' hue is darkened. Why does he do that? He has no idea. Her actions could be honestly unintentional because of the gaudy background noise but his? Apparently he is not that moral as he thinks he is in the first place.
She quietly retreats to her original place and raises the cup to her moist lips while sparing him a secretive smile that he knows for sure it is another effect of alcohol – limiting one's inhibition. Normal Sakura would be a lot shyer and more reserve. Normal Sakura would not be that tolerate of their improper innuendos. Should he care if they are acting that way? Flirting with each other is a wrong thing to do considering their current situations, isn't it?
"Clang" – the dry sound of glass on glass goes off against as Sakura taps her cup against his for the third time: "Sensei, don't forget your drink, we haven't finished them yet, have we? So tell me about your newest S-class mission in the Cloud country. Did the technique I told you last time help?"
Like magic, the tension in the air between them dissolves and the night rolls on with adventures of their own missions and ninjutsus and genjutsus that they learn on their own. Then they talked about politics, the pros and cons of banning the captures of tailed beast in each country. They debates and argues with each other but never gets angry even in a heated discussion. Sakura is amongst a few younger kunoichis whose interests do not just revolve around clothes and perfumes and jewelries. Her fierce intellectual is a great quality that Kakashi always highly appreciates. Or maybe, she is amongst the very little female population that he actually enjoys a conversation with.
Give it or take it, no matter how famous or powerful or gorgeous a person is, the Copy Nin does not feel obligated to converse with anyone unless they are truthfully an interesting person in the first place. After the third ninja war, they do not have many opportunities to meet and talk with each other because of their different scope of missions. But anytime they meet, the conversation will keep going on so naturally until they completely lose track of time.
Many cups of Champaign and Souchu and four cups of beer later, Sakura is giggling uncontrollably onto her folded arms on the bar table:
"So you just practically had to kiss and drag a naked Guy sensei out of that amazon kunoichi tribe to save his ass?"
"That idiot, even when I told him don't play around with any of them in the first place" – says an embarrassed and very much drunk older jounin.
"Gosh, this is the best story I've heard in years. But I'm curious…"
"Hmm?" – Kakashi sweeps his glance towards the glassy eyed girl:
"Was it a bare-lipped kiss with tongue or through the mask?"
He nearly chokes:
"Gosh, Sakura, through the mask of course, I shouldn't let you force me to relive one of the most horror second of my life"
She cannot help bursting into a whole-hearted mirth. The mental image is just too much for her to stand while Kakashi's lip corner just silently curves up into a humiliating smile. Clutching her belly with one hand and wiping away the tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes with another:
"But somehow, I feel relieved that you still have your mask on, Kakashi-sensei, I wouldn't want anyone to kiss your bare lips"
It is a wrong thing to say because as soon as words leave Sakura's lips, silence just rules over them as the former teacher and student rivet at each other. The bar's noise seems like retreating a few miles back and echoing from a very far far away place. After what seems like eternity, Kakashi is the first to find his voice and break their enthralled state by reverting his attention away from her pretty face:
"Uhm, it's very late already" – eyeing his half-full beer glass repentantly, Kakashi finishes it off with two large gulps and stands up: "I think I need some good rest now"
Fast on her feet as well, Sakura hastily brushes off her own discomfiture:
"Yes, you're right, it's very late. We should go home"
Putting on their respective winter coat and getting out of the bar door into the snow-filled street, the student and the teacher do not exchange a single word.
An awkward contrast with their non-stop chatter before. Both seem to be afraid that they may just end up saying the wrong things.
Soon the bar music ceases to exist after a few corner turns. The narrow alleyways start to turn wider and roomier as the pair strides to the main road. It must be at least two or three in the morning now.
Although living in two different sides of Konohagakure, Kakashi and Sakura still share the same long road over the bridge that connects this entertainment part of town with its residential areas. So as much as Kakashi wants to get home as soon as possible, it is just not that easy. The whole evening has been a rather perilous circumstance in Kakashi's opinion since they were pretty much dancing around forbidden topics which he has no intention to pursue at all time. It does not help with all the alcohol in his system but he would rather control himself than doing reckless things that will make him regret later.
Nonetheless he should know better that it is never easy to evade her. Even nature has a way to disturb him. Because Every now and then a winter breeze sweeps pass, casting the wonderful aroma that is so Sakura-like onto Kakashi'senses causing him to momentarily drunk in absence. Even though he has instigated their parting, the Copy Nin cannot help but reward himself with some deep inhales of that womanly fragrance into his nose. He wants to remember this scent no matter what. As long as she does not know about this, there is no harm, isn't it?
The road is long but short, soon they will go back to be two one-timed teammates again. Soon they will just wave at each other from distance and hurry to part way to go on with their life. Soon everything happened between them will just be remembered as a moment of weakness. Inattentively, Kakashi wants to slow down his long stride so that this road will last longer.
Suddenly as soon as they reach the bridge, Sakura jumps on top of the rail to walk on it instead of using the normal civilian route on the bridge's surface. Probably not a good idea when you are that drunk and the bridge is ten feet above the freezing water. But how she is balancing herself skilfully in her wobbling state gives Kakashi an idea that this is not the first time she's doing this:
"Don't try to show off your chakra controlling skill too much, Sakura-chan. I'm not marking you against anyone here, you know" – Kakashi chuckles a bit when Sakura turns to narrow her eyes at him:
"I don't show-off, everyone knows that I'm perfect at it, I'm even better than you Kakashi-sensei"
"Touche" – he smiles at her again, lenient and warm this time – "I'm glad that you all surpass me and find your happiness, Sakura-chan"
This time Sakura just stops dead on her track causing Kakashi to pause to eye at this deliberately troubled girl. As silent as the light snowflakes falling down on her cheeks, hair and shoulders, she stands there in utter stillness but somehow he can feel the mental struggle she has from within is not at all quiet. Ever so slowly her eyes are filled with unshed tears again, but this time it is not because of laughter or alcohol influence:
"Kakashi" – the silver-haired man's heart skips a beat when she drops the suffix: "I'm getting married in three weeks, is it wrong that I don't feel that happy when I'm supposed to?"
She holds his gaze expectantly as if his next answer will decide whatever it is between them that they have try desperately to evade this whole evening, or maybe for the last two years. But what does she expect of him? What are they? Sakura should know that their parting is for the best:
"Sakura, this is what you've wanted your whole life, isn't it? Getting married to Sasuke"
"I don't know anything anymore, Kakashi, I don't feel the same way when he comes back, I don't feel the same way around him when I'm around you, not after that kiss you gave me two years ago" – tears had flooded her eyes and rolled down her cheeks in a swift motion as Kakashi just looks like some lightning bolt has struck him dead on spot:
"Sakura…" – he manages but nothing can come out after that
"How can you pretend that there is nothing happened between us? How can you ignore me for the last two years? Why did you mess me up and then ran away like a coward?"
"It's just a kiss, Sakura" – he protests weakly, eyes cannot leave her face as his chest gets tighter every second observing that pained expression of hers.
"It's not JUST a kiss" – she shouts – "you know that damn well, considering it is us" – stepping down from the bridge rail, Sakura shoves herself towards the uncertain Copy Nin and violently whacks his chest with her fists:
"You're a bastard Kakashi, if you dare to kiss your own student, then have some courage to take responsibilities for it, don't deny yourself that you don't feel anything for me"
"Sakura" – his hands snatch up to her wrists to keep her in place so fast and firm that Sakura is left to glare at another pair of equally angry mismatched eyes. And just a heartbeat before that she knows what is going on, he violently leans in and kisses her.
At first, it is a clash of lips and teeth that will definitely leave bruises later on and because she is fighting back with a passion. But Kakashi doesn't give up on his hold of her as he keeps on kissing and kissing her while his whole body grabs on to her petit one to subdue this fiery little volcano.
He does not care if the taste of their kiss becomes salty and bloody because soon his tongue has found its way into her mouth and his lips have taken full control of her disagreeable ones. A throaty moan escapes her as he wrestles her tongue with his own. Even the alcohol is blatant in their oral caverns, she tastes just sweet as he remembers or even better. This unique smell of Sakura is what he has been dreaming about for the last two years. This saliva of hers is more syrupy than any forest honey he could ever taste. She has no idea how much he wants to drink dry her soul and her passion through this kiss, how much he wants to ravish her and make her orgasm multiple times until she cannot walk anymore for days. She just has no idea because she always makes him feel like Uchiha Sasuke is the only man that she can ever love.
And now she is just as responsive to his kiss as the first time he kissed her in a drunken night like this. Now she is just as passionate as he always knows she can be in love and in life and it breaks his heart seeing a bastard like Sasuke will never know how lucky he is to have such a girl. How he never can bring the best out of her.
They kiss and kiss while he nearly shatters her apart in a strangling embrace. She does not seem to mind if she disappears right there right now. She does not seem to care if he will break her apart because she does not seem to want him to stop. He knows it because Sasuke can never kiss her like this. Because Sasuke can never give her a kiss that makes her feel so alive.
But no matter how they want it last, the kiss finally breaks as their lungs are screaming for oxygen. Moulding her cheeks between his large hands, Kakashi's forehead touches hers as he says between ragged breaths, which are oddly in tune with the raising, and falling of Sakura's chest:
"We need to stop this Sakura, people will get hurt because of us"
"I don't want to…stop" – She sobs, eyes closed to contain the outburst of emotions.
"Please Sakura, everything is too late" – he pleads and pulls her into another embrace so her chin can rest on his shoulder: "I'm sorry"
And with one last squeeze, he lets go of her. His back turns against her before they can even make eye contact with each other, insinuating to Sakura that he wants her to be the one that walks away.
Silence ensues once again for what seems like eternity – the thick heavy silence that can suffocates anyone within it. He just stands there, refuses to budge or makes any move. Even though he doesn't look, he can feel her stare burning at him, making the tender hair at the back of his neck raised ever so slightly. Every second passes by heavily like a wounded animal trying to tumble its way through the thick snow. He waits and waits, unaware of his own breaths become shallower. Even with her silence, this girl can still insidiously kill him from inside.
Then the slanting shadow of his female student on the bridge floor starts to shift and running footsteps on wooden surface echoes around his ears in painful thud thud thud sounds. This time he cannot stop himself from following her running figure, which is soon swallowed by the darkness of the abysmal street.
"This is for the best, Sakura"
She does not know how long she has been running with a dead-tight chest and spicy, choked nose bridge filled with repressed emotions bubbling to burst open at any moment. She has told herself to let go when she agreed to Sasuke's proposal. She has told herself to give up on her silly feeling with a man who is unable to return it. What right does she have to cry? This is not the first time he turns her down…why does she still feel this agonizing because of something so predictable?
The familiar brown oak door of her apartment materialises in front of her like an emergency exit she needs so badly. She needs a shelter to vent out all of her pent-up emotions all alone but her shaky fingers do not seem to cooperate as she cannot seem to bring herself to calm them down to insert the key into its keyhole. Miraculously, it works at the n time when she is nearly about to throw the useless key chain down on the ground out of frustration.
Rushing inside her own home, the heartbroken kunoichi slams the door shut and with her back leaning heavily on the solid timber, she gradually slides off as her knees buckle down with the drainage of her muscle strength.
Touching her cold cheeks dampened with moisture, Sakura realises she has been crying all this time running back from the bridge. Away from Kakashi. Even when she has told herself not to cry, it still happens – a clear evident that she is absolutely useless around this man.
How can she be so stupid? Why did she walk up to him in that bar? Kakashi never wants to have anything to do with her in the first place and does he not make it all crystal clear by giving her a cold shoulder for the last two years?
Like he said, it's just a kiss. No matter how heart-melting it was and how passionately he seemed to give himself into it, it is not something worth to mesmerise for two years.
But anytime, they cross path, her heart never seems to be at peace. It has always gone on a roller-coaster ride with anything related to this man. She would hurry her steps to catch up with him if she just saw so much of a glimpse of silver spiky lock from afar. If it was really him, she would just pretend that she was accidentally going this way, and her heart would hammer so loud in her chest as if he was the only existence that mattered to it. If she does not catch up with him in time, she can feel the disappointment it experiences because it was like being fallen into a bottomless pit without anything or anyone to hold onto.
He never seems wanting to stay long when she appears, just a few casual greetings and he will be out at the door in a jiff. Sometimes Sakura doubts so much if their kiss is just a weird dream her bored mind came up with to tell her there is more to life than the sad relationship she is having with Sasuke now. But then the way her former teacher's eyes linger on her when he thinks she does not notice confirms her that it did happen that night, their first kiss – her first kiss.
Raising her fingers up to feel her abused lips, Sakura closes her eyes tightly to try to stop another torrent of unnecessary sentiments, though pointlessly, two more teardrops still escape in time to roll down her cheeks.
The feeling is still here vividly. His masculine, primitive smell is still here, besieging her keen sense. His overpowering warmth, his strong embrace, his lips, his tongue, everything she desires in so many dreams for the last two years is all here, coursing through her entire being like some atrociously addictive drugs. But worse than that, she does not think any narcotic can make her hurt for this long after ceasing to use them for two years. And this time, how long will it affect her life? She will be someone else's wife in three weeks and he gives her that kiss.
Unreasonably, hatred grows inside Sakura. She hates him. She hates how he unintentionally plays with her heart by pulling her in and pushing her away at the same time. She hates how he can easily ignore her and treat her like a stranger for the last two years but then when he kisses her, he can simply turn her whole world upside down.
Sasuke has kissed her so many times, but none of his is like Kakashi's. None of his kisses makes her feel that alive and hurt and happy at the same time like Kakashi's kisses. She knows even when he acts clumsy and carefree on the outside with his perpetual tardiness, on the inside, this man is the worst sticker for morality and honour. He would never be the third person in anyone's relationship let alone his students'. He chose to stay away then, she knows he will choose to stay away now.
She did not hope to change this or created a mess out of everything when she walked up to him in that bar because as he said it was too late. But when she saw him there, all alone in a crowded bar with just a bottle of souchu, with his mask down, her body moved on its own accord. Because she wants to see him so badly, wants to be able to talk with him, smile and laugh with him like a long long time ago before Sasuke decided to start everything over again with her. Because she is always attracted to Kakashi like a helpless moth to a deadly radiant light. He never knows how easy she can throw everything she has away for him if he wants her to…
A sudden knock on the door startles Sakura and instantly she can feel his chakra signature behind the door, her heart just stops.
It can't be…
She must be dreaming again:
"Who's that? " – she hears herself asking, trying her best to contain the quiet sobs from her ribcage, uncertainty filled the air around her thick.
A long long pause entails and finally:
"Kakashi"
Instantly feeling dizzy because of the neck-breaking movement to stand up, Sakura's hand pauses on the door knob for a few seconds.
This will change everything…
The small voice at the back of her head whispers….
But she does not want him to go. Not ever.
The door is swung open and Kakashi is there, slightly out of breath, apparently because of running after her. His mien is so different from the unperturbed person she always connects with. His eyes for a rare moment are no longer hooded and unconcerned as something so akin to passion seems to break free from the well-guarded prison of his own soul.
Kakashi will never be an open book to anyone no matter how close they are to him but at this moment, for the very first time, the younger kunoichi thinks she has caught a glimpse of the inside of this enigmatic man because in all honesty, he looks like he is about to do something he will regret later…
His large hands reach out to grab her face in a firm, decisive but oddly gentle motion to capture her lips in his hungry ones. In a heart-beat, she melts into it like snow carpets under hot morning sun.
She is backtracked by him into the house and the door snaps shut after them as if hurrying to preserve their special intimate moment on its own. Not wanting to break their kiss, their hands were fumbling in the dark to remove each other's outfit. First gone is Kakashi's jacket, then Sakura's. Then reluctantly, the kiss has to cease so Kakashi can help his petit lover get out of her knitwear to her tank top underneath. With a skilful tug of the zipper, Sakura's short skirt falls on the ground. By the time they get to the pink-haired girl's bebroom, many clothing items have been shredded and strewn in abandonment on the wooden floor.
In his strong hand, the silver-haired man scoops his former student up effortlessly so that his front torso is wedged between her long legs. His eyes bore into hers again for a few seconds to find any uncertainty. He finds none. If there is anything, it is just affection.
She leans in again until her soft tress tickles his forehead and his cheekbone; slowly she kisses him, deep and luxurious. This girl will never know how easily she can drive him to the brink of insanity. Perhaps somewhere amongst this mayhem, there is a small voice of reason still nagging him that what they are doing now is wrong, but he cannot care less. Because right now, there is only one sensation raging over his entire being, taking full control of his mind, pushing all the other trivial feelings of guiltiness away like a full-on tornado, sweeping clean everything on its wake – He has to take her. He has to make her his. Right here, right now.
He lays her down on the bed, then with his whole body looming over, effectively trapping her underneath, he gawks at her for the longest time. Starving eyes mesmerize every details of her features, every contours of her feminine curves dimly lit by the hazy winter moon outside the window of her bedroom. She is in nothing but her panties and bra, and she is heartbreakingly beautiful. Most importantly, from her large deep green eyes, she wants him just as much as he wants her.
Then he kisses her again on the forehead this time and she grasps for the sudden vulnerability it transfers to her whole body. She never knows her forehead could be so sensitive, or maybe it's just Kakashi.
He slowly rains down kisses on the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin and then her neck, leaving a trail of hot sensations along the way – the kind of sensation that makes her spine shiver with anticipation.
He spends time to lick and suck thoroughly at her neck while his hands roaming under her back to unclasp her bra and helping her get out of it. Then he fondles and sucks her breasts with the sheer intensity he hardly ever displays except in the battle field. The rough calluses in his palm excite the thin-skinned of her bosoms, forming a gooey feeling straight down to her lower belly in time with the licking of his tongue on her nipples.
Once again, he goes lower with his sweet torture on her stomach with his fingers consequentially tugging at the edge of her panties. He gazes up at her the whole time when he peels the small undergarment away from her leg, the sheer sexual intensity shies her but she finds it impossible to look away from his handsome face. The evident thirstiness in his pupils made her inside squirm nervously. And she likes it.
Then he places his hands under her thighs and hauls her forward until her sex was just centimetres away from his front torso so that he can nest perfectly between her legs. His intention is very much single-minded:
"Can I taste you?" – lowering his face ever so slowly down to hover above her womanhood, he asks with a smile, probably teasing her but she just seems too engrossed in the increasing tension he creates when his face inches closer and closer to her sex to respond back. Smirking to himself, Kakashi takes her silence as an "yes" by starting to suck and taste the skin of her inner thighs lavishly.
Mewls tear from her throat involuntarily, dampness gathering thicker around her vagina and her mind is blinded with excruciating anticipation when his tongue glazes higher and higher. She tries to peer through her heavy eyelashes to mesmerise the face of the Copy Nin whose pair of tightly closed eyes and slight scowls formed between his brows indicates his deep concentration. Oh, how she loves making the great Kakashi look this lust-filled with abandonment? Unknown to him, witnessing him like this makes her feel more aroused than aphrodisiac.
The heavenly heady smell of her sex enters his keen scent, tempting him to taste her right there to see if she tastes as sweet as her smell.
He probably wants to tease her more, lengthen her suffering but truth to be told, he himself cannot wait.
His mouth finally closes on where she wants it most as his tongue immediately started on a hysterical dance of passion. It strokes and twirls around her wet folds while his mouth drinks and sucks her juice, urging and coercing it to produce more dampness for his thirst. This completely knocks air out of her lungs. Sakura cries out earnestly as if thousands of tiny electric currents are assaulting her whole body all at once, making her spineless and utterly vulnerable.
His tongue plunges so deep inside her that she has to throw her head back trying to suppress the overwhelming pleasure. The tender flesh between her legs is pulsating spasmodically with the prodding rhythm of his unforgiving tongue. She feels so wet and ecstatic and the goddamned drenched noise that he makes is as shameful as it is rousing.
Her one hand is clutching so tight to the bed-sheet to keep herself from falling apart while the other kneading through his thick lock, undecidedly to whether it should push or pull him close.
His greedy mouth keeps building up the tension between her legs as an ever-growing pressure coils up in her stomach, tearing uncontrollable whimpers from her throat. As if knowing exactly what she needs, he inserts one long finger into her and she can feel how eagerly her vaginal walls clamp down on that intrusive digit and instantly take on the delicious plunging in and out cadence it creates while his tongue still massaging her clitoris in a frenzied fashion.
This is the just too much. His long finger touches herself further and deeper than she can touch herself, and the knowledge this is Kakashi giving head to her, this is his finger inside her body alone makes her heart consumed with burning desire. It hits her like a violent whirlwind as her woman flesh convulses helplessly around his finger while his tongue immediately picks up her coming, flicking skilfully around her wet folds, coercing her to reach her final release…
"Kakashi" – she screams as the upsurge of desire climaxes at the very core of her womanhood. Her fingers twisting so hard around the bed sheet that the knuckles turn white and her feet are lifted up in mid-air trying desperately to suppress the irrepressible pressure.
Her eyes wearily shut while her inner walls are still pulsating and throbbing in the aftermath of what can only be described as a wonderful orgasm. Her body goes limb in Kakashi arms and she can feel between her laboured breathings how he raises his upper body up and devours her form again with his intense scrutiny.
When she has enough courage and strength to crack her eyes open again to regard him, his face is already inches away from her as he leans in to demand another kiss:
"You are so beautiful" – he says when she cradles his face with her small hands and he with his much larger ones. His eyes are so gentle and warm and it makes her feel like crying again all of a sudden because why does it take them so long to be with each other like this? Why does it feel so right when it is so wrong?
Fortunately she is able to hold all those sentiments back. Sakura leans in to give another peck on his beautiful lips and whispers while deep red blushes form on her cheek again:
"Please let me make you happy too"
His eyes are widened for a brief moment as he instantly catches on what she means:
"Sakura, you don't have to…"
But she already wriggles out beneath him and in a move worthy of her jounin status, she pins him right down on the bed, straddling right beneath his incredibly bulging anatomy:
"But I want to… I want to make you feel good" – her voice is barely audible. He can tell by the way her stare going downward and her eyelashes touching her high cheeks that she is very shy offering something as such.
This is a bit too much for any self-respecting ninja like Kakashi. Sakura is as usual so oblivious about how adorably sly she is. How she is able to look that shy and provocative and bold at the same is a mystery to Kakashi. After offering to do something any man would dream for by easily straddling him with her sweet damp womanhood, she instantly put on that vulnerable, self-conscious look in the depth of her sea-green eyes and the slightly curves of her parted lips. If he did not know any better, he would just think that she was otherwise inviting him to ravish her thoroughly.
He doesn't remember since when this bubble gum haired girl has driven him crazy but he can totally understand why. She is all fierce and girlish, cute and sexy, logical and sentimental at the same time, a tigress and a pussy cat all rolled into one. This creates a woven series of never-ending excitements around her that Kakashi could never find from any other woman he had met in his life.
Unable to contain the warm feeling filling his chest caused by her selflessness, Kakashi lifts his hand up to touch her face to direct her eyes back to his:
"Sakura, it's very cute when you say that but you don't have to, you know"
"No, but…I want to taste you too" – a small embarrassing but cheeky smile forms at the corner of her lips as her hands stealthily creep up to rub against the undeniable indicator of his turn-on which is ineptly covered by the thin fabric of his boxer. Kakashi nearly beats back a groan when she grabs him and excites two-fold by her mischief.
Slowly, she peels his boxer down to reveal a proud member desperately wanting to be released. Her body seems to move on its own accord down the length of his body to accommodate comfortably between his legs. Her face now hovers just about his erect penis while her hair curtains around her visage as if containing a secret. He cannot see her eyes from here but the way she seems to observe it in silence as if in awe makes him a bit more confident. Not that he really cares about this since the Copy Nin always knows he is on the large scale but he definitely does not want to be a let-down to this breath-taking girl who he has been desiring for so long.
"Kami" – it's Kakashi's turn to grasp as a soft, wet and warm tongue flicks over the most sensitive part of his manhood.
Slowly she drags her tongue up and down his shaft and over his balls to nip in lightly the squishy delicate parts of his body. Then her moist warm mouth closes over his painfully hard cock while her tongue twirls around the tender head repeatedly as if he is literally the sweetest lollipopshe has ever tasted in life. Her right hand move vertically around his member, skilfully rhythmic with the sucking of her oral cavern and tongue around the tip while her left hand gently teasing his balls.
His head nearly falls back on her mattress as he tries his best not to let out a shameful groan – he shouldn't, a ninja of his calibre needs to have utter control in any situation (and he is not that unfamiliar with seducing and being seduced for countless top-secret missions) but this dawn vixen seems to know exactly what to break his self-control apart effortlessly.
She etches herself in his heart without trying, she tortures him so much for the last two years without knowing. She has no idea how hopeless he is inside when she is around, how hard it is for him to just disappear from wherever she is as soon as possible so that he can remain sane for the rest of his life. Speaking of that, sanity is a funny word at this very moment. Ever since their attraction started, there is no saneness existing anywhere near.
She always drives him over the edge and when she runs away, he just knows that there is no way back for him because he can lie to himself for many years to come but the line has already been crossed long time ago. He can never see her as his mere female student or the fiancé of his traitorous student anymore. Because when she is just Sakura – the woman who loves him and whom he loves.
He tries so hard to lift his head up a bit so that he can see her working magic between his legs. He wants to remember this beautiful scene, he wants to remember this feeling forever and instinctually, he records the scene with his activated sharingan. Almost immediately, the sensation receiving and emitting lobes' reaction in his brain intensifies by tenfold as an unbearable gigantic upsurge of pleasure washes over his entire body, in perfect sync with her lapping and slurping around his oversensitive penis.
"Dammit, Sakura" – he growls frustratingly and before the pink-haired girl can even fathom what is going on, he raises abruptly, causing her to release his cock from her sweet mouth. Then a pair of strong and decisive hands grabs her waists, hoisting her forward and flipping her whole body down in a swiftest movement which can only be pulled off by the infamous Copy Nin. He traps her again under his wide, leanly muscular frame. With just one look in his fiery eyes, his intention to her is as clear as daylight. She knows he wants it as much as she wants it but he still clings to a bit of sanity left within him to make sure that he can let her back out now. She just reaches out to his face, brings it down for another deep kiss, then whispering into his lips she sighs:
"Don't be silly, I'm yours"
He plunges himself fully into her with one smooth roll of his manhood and for one second they both groan in unison, feeling so fulfilled and fitting as if the hollow holes in their hearts for their whole life are filled up to the brim. Then they move frantically against each other, with every intention of relieving that painful ache deep within the centre of their being, milking the life energy, the sexual need out of each other. The wet noises of their intimate part slithering against each other are echoing in the quiet night air together with their groans and sighs and whimpers.
"This is….so good, Kakashi" – Sakura grunts with difficulties between the hammering of her hearts and the delicious thrusting in and pulling out of Kakashi's cock.
"Uhm" – whimpers Kakashi, possibly barely able to form any word.
Encircling his large hands around her small waist, with one swift movement, Kakashi pulls his lover up to sit on his lap without breaking their connection so that she can slide up and down his shaft more needily while he captures her lips and once again glides his tongue against hers to intensify the tingling sensation between them. The fervent squeezing of Sakura's damp folds on Kakashi's manhood keeps pushing and pushing his tolerance over the edge as one wave of torturous pleasure does not even have time to fade then another already arises to take over. The skip between each wave becomes shorter and shorter with every plunge and thrash until the pink-haired girl's core completely tautens around the tip of her lover's penis and she faces with the ultimate outcome – a sexual explosion so unbearable. A loud scream breaks free from her throat, raw and wild.
Looking at her tightly shut eyes and pinched eyebrows, hearing her cry and knowing that he is the person who makes her feel this way shoves the very last bit of consciousness out of Kakashi's head as he grabs her hips harder to move her crazily up and down his cock. This lengthens her orgasm and leads him straight to his final release.
The explosive orgasm is so intense that he can feel himself violently burst out wet hot fluid inside her and jerky throbs pounding mercilessly along her vaginal walls. The ecstasy blurs his vision and paralyses his limbs. As muscle strength leaves his body, Kakashi collapses on top of the kunoichi's petite frame with heavy pants while she traps him in a huge embrace.
Then she says it…It just rolls off her tongue like it is the most natural thing to say.
"I love you too" – He responds evenly and easily. Because there is nothing else he wants to say. Just as simple as that.
….
"I'm sorry that I make you cry" – Touching her face so gently with his thumb and index finger, Kakashi looks sadder than Sakura has ever seen. His eyebrows are twisted in a deep scowl and his glint carrying so many emotions but mostly self-loathing and disappointment. She feels sad seeing him like this but deep down, a small bud of happiness is growing up in the depth of her chest because she knows of all the misery and heartache she feels for this man, he feels the same way. His natural lack of expression is all to make his suffering deeper and more enduring than anyone. It sounds sadistic of her to feel that way but she could not help a smile because she knows he only feels that way because there is so much love:
"It's ok, I won't be crying anymore if you are with me" – She says between her tears but these one are far from melancholy, they are the blissful ones.
Gently brushing away her tear, he smiles sadly again:
"People will talk…"
"I know"
"I know you'll care about what they say and it will hurt for a long time…"
"Yes, I do care about what they say, but I don't care as well, because if you're with me, it'll be bearable, I guess"
"How do you break this to him?"
"I don't know but this is what I should've done long time ago, even before this. Why did you follow me? I thought you've made up your mind"
"Because I'm weak, I guess. And you always know how to push my button"
"I do no such thing. If I knew how to do that, I wouldn't have to suffer your cold shoulder for the last two years"
"Of course you do, looking at me with these eyes, smiling at me with these lips, hitting me with these tiny but mean fists"
"Hey, I just want to know"
"Ok, because when you run away, I was just standing there without being able to walk away. I just realised that there was no way I could be right when you were that miserable and I was too. It couldn't be for the best. And I was just here before I could put my thoughts together, that was definitely the first for me"
"I know, I'm glad that you don't think for once in your life, if only it could happen sooner"
"What is wrong between you and him?"
"I don't know but after everything happened to him, He seems to be…unable to love. I know he cares about me in his cold way, and he's tried but it just doesn't work. We just fall into patterns and he thinks marriage may bond us better. I don't know if it works but I want to give it a try. But the closer it is to that day, the more wrong I know I am. And you…"
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siminimonster · 5 years
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Aquaria (Part One of Three) [I've Gone Daft]
Link: SFS [Folder]
This is the First Part of the Aquaria Series, where I put on full display my complete insanity for all to see.
I first made all of this shortly after I completed my Small Pets items back in June of last summer (2018), right after MFPS came out. Then, the official team threw us all in a tizzy with the announcement of Seasons. I thought to myself at first, "Cool.", then I thought to myself, "Crap.", as I did not know if/how pools would be affected and what it might do to all of what I had just made...
This is all a 'mini-Stuff Pack' of aquariums, and things to make scenery in pool "aquariums". Maxis meshes 100%, and everything, with the exception of three decor items which need EP02 (Get Together) (the Ruins Decor) is BaseGame Compatible 96 of the 99 files). Or, so the theory goes. I have no way of telling, myself, but as I understand it everyone gets all of the tunings and all of the various game FX whether one has a certain pack or not. With the exception of the structure and outside decor used in the screenshots, you get everything that is featured. The only non-CC game items that I used in the 'Aquaria' for the photos are the pool lights on the floor and walls. The 'aquarium' walls are a medium height as shown.
These are not pre-set groups of staged FX, they are 'real' aquariums and fishbowls. They have all of the standard interactions of the objects, including the non-functional lighting interaction. No custom tuning for the aquaria, all done with simple basic Wizardry. I really wanted to have a set of seamless windows to go with the set, but decided to move on instead of holding myself back waiting for those to maybe happen. Parts Two and Three will be the 36 water color tints and the miscellaneous other 'external' fish-holding items that I have made over time, all updated and ready to me stocked with little fishy friends...
Presentation was also a Huge hindrance for me, as I really wish that I had a video card that could capture the Aquaria in action, but alas my trusty old 760 GTX isn't up for that particular task...
§ The Lot - I wanted to build something 'simple' to show all of the items off in one place, and this is what I came up with as 'simple'. Left is a view from just below the unseen 4th floor 'roof', Right is taken on the ground floor with walls up, so you can see what they look like from above, and also how the game engine cuts out the fish FX from what distance...
§ Fountain Pads - Each of the separated lotus blossom pieces (1,2 or 3 blossoms) are individually a 'fishbowl' and you can see the tiny little fishes swimming near the flowers. I had to go with the 'fishbowl' fish, as the 'aquarium' size fish have too unpredictable of an animation path to fit into a fountain.
§ The three different 'environments' that I created to make different kinds of 'aquariums'... First, I show the 'green' one, which I made to look 'Mediterranean' with the ruins, and algae-covered. Second, the 'tropical ocean' one, which has more colorful accessories and 'fauna'. In this one I am showing the Egyptian ruins from S3. Lastly, a sandy 'Desert' kind of environment (huh? Desert Aquarium?), with the dinosaur bones and whatnot... All three show from the outside and from above.
§ But what do they look like from the inside? In the first pictures, on the right you can notice the first re-color of fish that I am bring into this set (optional, of course) which is an altered Guppy. Additionally, you can notice how the 'bottom-dwelling fish behave when placed into an 'aquarium'... In the second shots you can see my re-coloring of the Vampire Squid (subtly made the eyes more blue) and my much improved Discus fishes. The 'Desert' inside shots show on the Left you can see my recolored Mountain Lionfish (I wanted to to be a *bit* more colorful), and my recolored Betta, which I wanted to be more like my favorite 'Peacock Blue' varietal, on the Right you can see my much improved Cichlid... for some reason I missed capturing my koi recolor, for which I wanted the simple all-white with a red cap variety. Each of the individual rocks (not to be confused with the decor rock groupings) are an aquarium, with the capacity of the standard 6 fish of your choice (4 in the case of the cloned Dine Out ones), and the small individual rocks are each a fishbowl, so you can have some extra size and placement variety. I *could* have simple copied each aquarium's rig/slot, but then when together, one would have had a pretty narrow, even dense layer of fish, so I edited them into more of a column, and they have differing heights for the most variety.
§ And to finish all of it off are photos that I am calling 'My Shame', because of how I did the tuning coding. As with my earlier release, where I give Full Credit to @coolspear1 for him having written the code which showed me the way to being able to make a fishbowl where one could purchase any fish (I wrote that code utilizing his as guidance only), this time I did something much dirtier, much nastier, and 'unclean' for me to have done. I wouldn't have done it this way if I didn't want to bang out this item as an additional 'accessory' for the Aquaria Set. I *thought* I might be content using a fishbowl that has the 'Purchase Fish' interaction that I had written, but doing it one fish at a time was going to lead to me never ever getting the demo 'aquariums' filled, so I blatantly used *his* code for his amazing 'Purchase Any Flower/Herb' mod only inserting my code for the fish. I do not take any credit for the fish statue to buy multiple fish at a time. I give all credit for the tuning of this item to He Who Is My Favorite Coding modder - @coolspear1, whose collection of Must-have (for me, at least) mods are found HERE (SimsAsylum). Without installing the additional tuning file from the set, you will neither be able to purchase from any of the fishbowls (coming in Set Three of the Aquaria release), nor will you be able to use the fish statue either...
As a 'Why Not?' kind of extra something to add to the pile, one archive has individual lilypads that each have one of three different rainbow FX ad seen in the first set of shots. Coming next are the 36 water recolors, then lastly will be the collected aquariums and fishbowls that I have made over time, checked and re-released all together... All that talking at you and I didn't even mention how many swatches of what item, but I believe that you can find enough of each thing to get what you may desire from it all.
§ Note: One cannot access the ‘aquarium’ rocks from the surface, and be sure that there are no ‘hidden’ mesh planes blocking access to the rock. Otherwise, Have Fun!
Cheers, Everybody! Thank You ALL for Following me!
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lizord-lord · 6 years
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The Invisible Language
(This is a vent fic. I was struggling with having to dump a friend yesterday and it got me dwelling on my social struggles..and so I tried my hand at actually writing a fic to project all my problems through! XD)
(For anyone who doesn’t know, I have autism-Aspergers specifically, and I totally 100% headcanon Logan as an aspie. I have this post detailing why. So..for those of you who also stan autistuc Logan (and maybe a bit of ADHD Roman) here is this, me basically throwing my entire life story on our poor nerd and I am so sorry but also not XD. Also, the book I mentioned is very real, and I actually own it. It’s really useful, if a bit dated and heteronormative)
Warnings: Descriptions of sensory overload (similar to a panic attack) social struggles, very brief mention of selfharm, mentions of fistfights and minor physical violence.
Ships: none, but you can probably see my logicality heart in there lmao
The Invisible Language.
It was all just so complicated now.
Or rather, now he knew how complicated it was.
Before, Logan had always just thought he was bad with people. That was fine. It fit, with his habit of staying inside with his nose in a book. The socially awkward, introverted nerd who wasn’t good with kids.
It was simple.
But that’s the thing. Life isn’t simple. And neither was Logan. Even as a six year old.
The socially awkward, introverted nerd, from what he’d seen on tv, would have cried or just silently tried to make due when another kid ‘accidentally’ spilled tomato juice all over his copy of Alice in Wonderland. Logan Sanders leapt from his desk, grabbed the kid’s wrist, and yanked him down so his head smashed into the wood.
The socially awkward one was laughed at. Logan was sent to the office.
Time and time again this would happen. Until he turned eight, and his parents pulled him out of school. He was homeschooled after that, and it was simultaneously like a breath of fresh air and entering a stifling hot room. He was free of the children, free to discover on his own, but he found himself itching for more, to ask questions about things his parents could answer, to do projects he’d heard about online but often ended up screaming in his attempts to recreate them because it wasn’t explained, why this, why that, how do I do that, it doesn’t make sense!!
Homeschooling was a blessing and a curse. He made due. He did well in fact, almost all of his online courses were marked complete with a neat 100 for the score. It was enough for them, but not for him.  Eight year old Logan hated it. Ten year old Logan was used to it.
Eleven year old Logan dug his heels into it.
Middle school. His parents wanted to send him back. He understood their reasoning, the rational half of his brain did. Middle school was a big change, adolescence, and the middle ground before high school, which he always knew he would be going to-you can’t get college credit from online courses and library books after all, not the ones he was using. It would give him time to prepare. And yet he was a creature of habit, so used to his solitary life..
Logan has no choice however.
On the first day he stepped inside, armed with only the knowledge of American Girl books he’d skimmed through (who cared if they were meant for girls, they didn’t write helpful guides for boys!) and distant memories of elementary school. The first weeks went by as a blur, and Logan ate it up. The assignments, the grades, the smirk he always found himself wearing when he placed his assignments in the bin. That triumph didn’t even compare to the rush of pride and satisfaction he felt when the teacher told the class that he test they’d been given was apparently too hard, many kids failed and only one student actually got a perfect score, and his paper was handed back with a 100 written on the top.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t hold the paper up a bit and catch the eyes of the numerous people who stared at him with no surprise in their eyes.
Logan even found friends in those first few weeks. A darkly dressed kid who, much like him, never really knew where to go during paired projects and ended up working with him. He found that Virgil was actually very bright, a relief when he looked around the room to see people talking and not doing anything useful. The pale boy was quiet, but listened as Logan chattered away about his  plans for the assignment.
Patton was next, a round-faced boy who seemed to share at least a few words with everyone he saw. Logan didn’t mind that. He wasn’t a lazy student, maybe a bit easily distracted, but when he was sat next to Logan in science his work quality was always at least a solid B, as long as he was shushed every now and again. He seemed better with people too, and Logan found himself enjoying his company.
Then there was Roman. He was introduced to their little trio by Patton, who apparently shared a drama class with the tanned boy. He was..a handful. And yet Logan found himself challenged by him. Their friendship was an unusual one, full of debates that more often than not ended in yelling, but at least they started off with intelligent points and interesting ideas-and if often Patton had to break off their passion so neither of them landed with lunch detention, well that was the price to pay.
He was enjoying himself here.
Then the second month. Logan remembered where he was when a redheaded girl told him he was wrong in that ‘you’re a moron’ tone when he told her that actually, the word for the study of space was astronomy, not astrology. When a boy in a green sweater had blatantly ignored him when he asked him to stop scooting his chair across the hard floors. When an entire group of people had continued to call him Logie even though he’d told them over and over he hated it. Many of them seemed to do it just because it annoyed him. This went on. Every day another simpleton would disrespect him. Every day he’d tell him to stop. Often he’d snap at them, or swear. That always got him snickers in return. And Logan found himself clenching his fists as his whole body burned red hot.
It happened again a week after this started. A boy with a Minecraft t-shirt cut him off in the lunch line, and when Logan told him to go to the end, the boy only scoffed and responded with “Are you in kindergarten?” in a tone that made his blood boil with how fucking snotty it was.
Logan’s hand was fisted in the back of that obnoxious t-shirt and pulling back with all its might before he could think.
The boy ended up on the floor crying, and Logan ended up suspended.
There were more incidents that year. Mostly yelling or swearing, but minor physical violence was not unheard of. It was common even.
Logan didn’t want that. He wanted to be cool, to drop the bullies and idiots with bullets of intelligence from his tongue, but everything he tried a witty comeback they’d give him either confused looks, no acknowledgement as all, or retort with ‘Your mom’ jokes, a sort of ‘insult’ that required barely a single brain cell to perform.
They never listened. They were stupid, childish, disrespectful. Logan stuck only to his three friends and the many teachers he’d grown quite friendly with, They liked him after all, he was precocious and that was something teachers always found fun. with adults, he also found he could make himself actually heard, his theories, ideas, suggestions, it was a glorious freedom he had previously only had with Patton, Roman, and Virgil.
But things didn’t get that much better.
In fact, in seventh grade Logan found his outbursts getting worse. They were farther and fewer between, but the eventual rage that would explode was far worse than before. It was like the dam that held back his rage had grown stronger, but that meant it took more water to barrel it over, and that sent far more devastating floods down the peaceful valley of his mind.
In eighth grade, he got into a fistfight with a boy who had called Roman gay as an insult, not knowing that it was true or that the word should not be used in such a manner. When the boy refused to listen to Logan’s explanation of what the word meant and instead switched tracks to scoffing every time he said it was a normal and perfectly acceptable, beautiful thing. And by the time the midget of a bigot tossed in the dreaded f-slur Logan’s mind was so crimson he only felt a rush of relief when his fist connected with the boy’s head.
It was two weeks of suspension for that. And it was during that time that Logan’s mother revealed something to him that he had never expected.
Tales of his childhood-or babyhood rather, where he had exhibited strange behaviors no other parent seemed to have seems.
“I think you might have Aspergers,” she had said.
And now, here he was. He couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to tell him of her suspicions. But now Logan was sitting on his bed, the blanket covered with constellations, staring at the cover of a book.
It was a familiar scene.
But this wasn’t a book chosen by Logan’s own hand, or by the school, or even a recommendation from his parents or a loan from his younger sister Abby.
It had been gifted to him by the man at the Autism Center.
The Asperkid’s Secret Guide to Social Rules.
He’d read the whole thing.
Before, he’d thought he was just awkward.
But no. Of course it couldn’t be that simple. It wasn’t that he just didn’t know that w to say. He was. missing an entire way of communicating that people his mind now knew as ‘neurotypicals’ spoke in without realizing it.
The secret language. Body language, facial expressions, tone, he knew that all existed yes..but he’d never seen it. At least not in the subtleties the book described. And all these double meanings of phrases? So the dark-skinned girl who had asked him what he was reading during math class didn’t want to just read the back and learn Sherlock Holmes’ latest mystery? She’ wanted to get to know him?
Why didn’t she just say so!
It was so much more complicated now. The vague, yet simple term of ‘weird’ was replaced by the vast, yet specific, confusing, and multifaceted word that was autistic. A word he’d never have expected to apply to him. Mental health went really a subject he’d looked into, feelings were too wound into it.. and feelings had always been his greatest vice.
So now, with that book in his hand, he thought.
There was a whole other world he couldn’t see..that’s what he had been missing all this time? was the specific shifts in tone in posture people made-what he’d always thought to be absently-something his parents expected him to understand and that was why he always seemed to have to be elbowed when running his mouth?
It was like….like telepathy. Yes, to Logan, the cues he now found himself putting extra effort into finding; his sister’s slightly hunched shoulders at the dinner table, his dad’s slightly turned up nose when he mentioned his history teacher, were a sort of telepathy that the ‘normal’ population all shared. But it wasn’t as if it was that simple. Of course, it was tauntingly, agonizingly complicated. You see, these people were all telepaths, sharing cues in an invisible tongue-and yet, none of them knew they were telepathic. And yet still, they all expected everyone else to be.
So that was why he was strange. Logan had looked up how much of communication was non-verbal - he felt his eyes go wide when he saw the percentage dedicated to ‘body language’.
Fifty-eight percent.
Fifty-eight percent.
What else could he have missed?
Logan was both happy and uncomfortable with the diagnosis. He now knew terms, words, blessed reasons for his little ticks, why he felt like something was terribly wrong for at least an hour just because he’d had to take an alternate route to school (routine disruption), why was such a picky eater (finickiness caused by sensitivity to textures and certain flavors/smells), why people always responded with confusion whenever they saw him pepper the science teacher with question after question, challenge after challenge like he was trying to understand how the universe wove itself in the span of five minutes, and looked surprised when Roman asked him if he knew why Patton was being quiet. Logan had responded with a simple no, informing the other that Patton hadn’t told him-and when the slightly taller boy had suggested that he ask, Logan realized the thought had never occurred to him.
Most importantly, it explained what Roman had dubbed ‘The Fitness Fiasco’. To sum it up, Logan had thought of a new game for their groups to play in gym class—something besides basketball for once in their lives, and yet as he tried to explain, the girl who seemed to have taken charge of the group he was trying to explain the idea to kept talking over him, ignoring him, challenging what he said—and the noise. The noise, how all the chattering and the sound of balls bouncing on the floor, the rage he felt at being slighted in this way, how it had attacked him. How he’d suddenly found himself tensing, wanting to run or to yell, unsure which, how the sound turned solid and pressed in-his muscles going taut, his hands twitching with every word from the students mouths,  how his arm violently jerked away as Patton tried to comfort him- And then the scream. He’d screamed at the top of his lungs for quiet, falling to the ground and sobbing in the fetal position—eyes screwed shut behind his glasses and hands clamped tight to his ears, unsure of what was even falling from his mouth aside from the fact that he was begging, begging for silence. It had only quieted a bit as people turned to stare, and then he’d felt hands on his shoulders, ones he jerked away from—but no one knew what to do. Virgil’s low whispers for him to breathe, to use the 4-7-8 method that the emo always used to calm his own panic attacks, was only met with more incoherent begging for silence. It had been Patton who rescued him, who brought the teacher over and ended up guiding the sobbing Logan to an empty classroom. There he had been met with silence. There he felt his terrified bawling turn to weeping with relief. In the silence, he’d recovered, his muscles lost the tension, and he allowed the freckled boy to wrap him in a hug.
He’d only been able to call it a panic attack before. But now he knew the term. Sensory overload, brought on my the noise and the stress.
It had been a relief just to know that. To know that in moments when he stood among too many people, feeling his muscles clench as their shoulders brushed his, that his hands should not go out to push them away, but to his ears, to block out the trigger.
It became a cue, when debates with Roman got heated—they were friends after all, if rivals as well, and it was understood that if Logan’s jaw suddenly clenched and his hands went up to cover his ears, they had to pause for at least a minute.
But of course, knowing where the holes in his social skills were led to Logan compensating, and it didn’t..always feel natural. He found himself staring at people, trying to read their faces, for a little too long on many an occasion, or overreacting to something because he’d overanalyzed the tone. He found himself having to bite his tongue on many an occasion to keep himself from simply explaining why he did what he did to his parents, who would only take it as making excuses.
It was a balance of the good, the bad, and the ugly. He understood now that his all-or-nothing attitude was why he found himself simply not doing projects if he couldn’t grasp the material—and this led to him having to more often than not, swallow his pride and ask for help when he was getting frustrated. Yet the same black-and-white philosophy got him gasps of shock from Roman when he explained that, in the story Roman had been iterating to him, the whole second half of the plot could have been avoided if Leealli had simply decapitated Sorcerer Kai while they were trapped in her dungeon. Roman had protested, saying it would make her just as terrible as they, but Logan had frowned, explaining that yes, the act was cruel, but if a single act of evil by her direct hand was all it took to stop countless others by her indirect hand, wasn’t it worth it?
But he had also been the one to convince Patton not to remain friends with Oliver, when one day, sitting on the cotton candy clouds that patterned Patton’s quilt, the smaller boy had confided in him that Oliver had vented about his habits of self-harm to the kind soul for three hours the night previous, yet refused any help Patton gave, shot down any attempt at saying he was worth more than he thought.
It was Logan who had took Patton’s hand and told him that people like that could only be helped by themselves and a therapist, that he should not take it upon himself to bear others’ problems in that way. Who had given him a hesitant hug and told him that his mental health was just as important as theirs.
His friends were his lifeline. Maybe they tripped him up—well, they definitely did, yet as much as he found himself apologizing to Virgil for seeming angry when he was simply tired and being a bit blunter and more insensitive with his words than usual (not that he usually was tactful or sensitive when it came to criticism, even constructive criticism) he found himself sighing in relief as the anxious boy shared with him his own experiences in worrying about the negative undertones in the words of others too much to be considered healthy. They would sit and talk about it, the same experience for two different reasons, one of them due to the irrational fear of people disliking him or being angry, and the other due to worrying he was doing something incorrectly that he was not aware of, failing to pick up on a crucial piece of information.
As much as Logan found himself and Roman butting heads, even shouting at each other during friendly debates gone sour, name-calling and snapping fault after fault, he reflected fondly on the time he had been ecstatic to discover that Roman’s own ADHD-riddled brain hyperfixated on Disney just as his own did on Sherlock, and they would both go on for hours about their obsessions while sadly recalling how old interests had faded.
As much as he often found himself hurting Patton unintentionally, and even worse, learning that Patton had been hiding that fact from him for weeks as to spare his feelings, as difficult as it was to convince (well, more plead with) Patton to tell him these things, as he wouldn’t be offended much and he had no other way of knowing what he was doing wrong, he found himself sitting by his side, all attention completely fixated on what to him were mindblowing truths about people and yet seemed common, boring knowledge to Patton, as the freckled boy explained cues and rules, that invisible language Logan did not speak.
Those friends stuck by him, even though others did not. With all the walls Logan had built up around his emotions, to protect himself and others, few could breach the fortifications—except for those who had already been on the inside as he built them. And he was fine with that.
Going to a therapist was...awkward at first, but it helped. Mr. Picani understood his aversion to talking of his feelings, and instead cleverly tricked him every time, asking questions about events until Logan was off on an angry rant. With that expelled, they’d talk through possible solutions.
He kept the book. And most of the other books he was given on the topic, eager to learn and understand more things about himself, knowing the reasons behind behaviors, quirks in things had always been one of his favorite things, and now he found it was possible in people.
As Logan worked through his discovery during the last semester of eighth grade and through that summer, with his Virgil, Patton, Roman, his parents, Mr. Picani, and occasionally even his rainbow-haired little sister, he found his mind shifting. He was truly calm now more often than not, able to express his rationale...well, rationally, rather than through insults. His debates grew calmer, and while he certainly had his slip-ups..he was improving. Slowly. Steadily.
His viewpoint of the world was unusual, like an outsider, and while that could be isolating, if he explained it well, people were often interested to hear it. It was different, his own; the metaphor Logan found himself using was that everyone else was a Macintosh computer, and he and his fellow spectrumites were PCs, capable of all the same things, though in ways the world was not wired to accommodate. Also, clearly superior in many a way.
His core programming was different, even if his exterior seemed the same, and Logan was okay with that. He’d never know the invisible language, not as a native would, but he could learn it—the same way he learned slang, through help, a lot of online research, his friends, and some study notes here and there.
It was complicated, they way he figured things out, the systems he’d devised. But complicated problems would never be solved with simple solutions.
And he still had plenty of time left to learn.
(Thanks to @poisonedapples for betaing this and basically screaming RELATABLE every two second, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear!)
(...I don’t really have a general fic taglist so imma just- y e a here)
Tags: @royallyanxious @whatwashernameagain @sandersmarvel @the-incedible-sulk @supremestoverlord @hanramz-the-fander @childhood-wishes-and-dreams @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @madly-handsome @galaxy-warping @extremist-water-agenda @ierindoodles @princeanxious
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frost-skyder · 5 years
Text
Gaslighting, homophobia, harassment, etc.
This is a copy of a journal that was/is on deviantArt since the incident happened there, but I’m putting some of my records here when it involves harassment and art theft.
Warning: This includes harassment towards minors by a predatory adult, homophobic behavior, gaslighting, and other predatory behaviors.
Another Update:
Archived here for better viewing:
https://web.archive.org/web/20190704135920/https://www.deviantart.com/haleyc7995/journal/Harassment-and-Discrimination-About-My-Opinion-802306133
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It’s one thing to harass me, but going out and threatening others isn’t okay.
Update, a freaking year later:
https://www.deviantart.com/haleyc7995/journal/Everyone-report-this-journal-for-harassment-802227692
Apparently I'm part of the LGBT+ Mafia because I said it's homophobic to go out of your way to say our existence is wrong? Not sure where they got that idea but they chose to dig up this old warning journal since they were harassing Queer people, and apparently think it's still okay to do so. 
 Also going to note that trying to use neurodivergency as an excuse for our actions isn't okay and is ableist, basically spitting in the face of other neurodivergent people. 
---
OH WAIT THERE'S MORE!
This guy has sexually harassed minors. Also much more disgusting rhetoric than I expected in stamps but also in other comments towards minors. Please be advised of the explicit comments when clicking on this journal.
[Journal redacted by minor]
It's one thing for him to harass me, another adult, but to sexually harass and target minors is beyond disgusting, and illegal. If anyone wants an example of what a predator is, here it is.
---
Nvm, not last update.
Due to more and more people coming forward, I'm going to keep updating this journal, and adding links provided to me. I'm going to state that I'm so, so sorry to all of those who have been harmed by the three perpetrators in this journal. Hopefully from awareness comes prevention of further victims.
It was also brought up to me that my journal skin was causing issues for mobile users, so since this journal is very serious in nature, I have removed it so no matter what platform it should be legible.
This Journal is being added because it provides more information. TW (Rapey Rhetoric, body shaming, harassment, etc)
[Journal removed]
---
Last Update (hopefully): Due to the garbage he keeps posting, I decided to block both his accounts because he's just rehashing what others have said about him, and now pinning it on victims lmao. When I told him I didn't tolerate how he was sexually harassing women and belittling sexual assault victims, apparently I'm the one harassing trauma victims now?? 
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For the record...the only person I've blocked is him, which makes it funnier, but okay Chad™
Also going to state that being neurodivergent is not a justification for marginalizing others, ever, and is a spit in the face and throws other neurodivergent people under the bus. As I said, most of my friends with autism are in the LGBT+ community, and a majority of my friends are neurodivergent in general. So am I. It's never an excuse to marginalize others,
ever.
Apologies to everyone who had to deal with him, his nonsense, and has to deal with people like this in general.
And sorry, but marginalized groups speaking out against people actively trying to harm and oppress them isn't and will never be fascism. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
---
Very, very IMPORTANT Edit:
It is fairly easy to tell, but EmpatheticDesign is the same person as GrandtheftAutoOnline, and uses the duo of accounts to block evade.
I was made aware by others spreading my journal that this person is known for this behavior, has harassed others in the past, and belittled victims of trauma, including rape victims. It's one thing to be a homophobic garbage pile, but to go out of your way to harm and belittle those who have suffered through serious trauma? So yeah, please let others be aware so they are not harassed as well.
Edit: The second journal was removed at the request of the victim, who didn't want to associate with their abuser, or be found again. I was allowed though to give some details about what happened, so I think it's best that I post a screenshot of our notes, censoring the names.
 https://www.deviantart.com/uwugirls/journal/Stay-safe-guys-749736306
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At this point, it's beyond just harassing the LGBT+ community, and they seem to harass, sexualize, and belittle victims and women in general. Please be aware of this and stay safe.
Triple Edit: The person mentioned below, EmpathicDesign proceeded to post homophobic garbage on other people's posts so yeah, they kind of just admitted to be homophobic which is why they are so bitter lmao.
Double Edit: Apparently pointing out homophobes is facist now lmao. This was a great magnet for homophobic garbage so y'all can also block GrandTheftAutoOnline while you're at it, since they are trying to compare facism and oppression to someone pointing out homophobia. Clearly they don't know what facism actually is, what oppression is, and just want to justify hate speech without consequences.
Edit: I'm going to put this here so others know to also bock/avoid this person, who has made a variety of stamps targeting the LGBT+ community, and decided to think it was a smart idea to defend this person's discriminatory and phobic behavior as an "opinion."
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Suuuure it isn't...
Then this lovely stamp shows they don't even know what "safe" spaces refer to whatsoever and they'd just rather shame Queer folk. Ya know, besides trying to avoid admitting that they are just phobic.
So yeah, here's another person that blatantly discriminates if you want to add to your list of "people that don't deserve any of your time." ------
Being gay myself, and having to deal with this on far too consistent of a basis, I thought I'd do my part to warn others so they can avoid some of this in their lives.
Apparently HaleyC7995 has done these things before, but I wanted to warn others who are Queer and may want to block people who go about spewing homophobic rhetoric.
I don't suggest going to her profile if you are sensitive to fat fetishizing, vore, and sexualization of a potential minor character (the character is in high school so there is a large possibility that they are a minor). Also racist depictions of characters.
People tried to explain why what they were saying wasn't okay, how it was homophobic, but she turned it around to blame the victims for her actions and other inappropriate behavior. She continued to say she was "misunderstood" about what she said, despite multiple times saying how being gay was "wrong" and overall seems quite content continue to say such things.
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 It started by saying something unnecessarily homophobic on an art piece, then when the artist made a status saying how people needed to stop being homophobic at them, they posted this on that status:
As you can see here, many people expressed how this was innapropriate:
 https://comments.deviantart.com/62/13481362/4588682762 
Apologies to the artist who was subjected to this person. You aren't the first victim, and hopefully you will be one of the last. For those who aren't Queer and don't realize this yet...you can't "turn" gay. She for some reason acts as if it's a choice lmao. 
And well, many people reacted angrily, and she decided to "apologize" which wasn't an apology at all, but once again shifting blame and saying that it was just her "opinion." 
 For future records, hate speech isn't considered an opinion. It's hate speech and bigotry. An opinion is that I don't like raisins in my carrot cake because they make the cake texture gross. 
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Credit to this person who tried very, very hard to explain why this wasn't okay. This had to be the most patient person trying to explain why homophobia isn't an opinion. 
 People continued to be mad, because well...the obvious lack of empathy, blaming others, and continuing to persist with the idea that being gay was wrong and a sin. 
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Other people tried a well, especially those who have dealt with this person before she was banned on a previous account. She was ban evading for a while but it seems the accounts were unbanned now.
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 She continues even with me to say she's "unaware" of what she's doing. It's obvious she's not, and at this point she gets very gaslighty and trying to flip it once again on everyone else. 
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I was blocked after this so I couldn't respond, though as an angry gay person I had choice words. Unfortunately, due to how she's behaving, and how she has a history to blame everyone but herself for her own actions, I don't expect she'll be changing anytime soon. If you are Queer, have Queer friends, or just are very tired of blatant phobic behavior I'd just suggest blocking her. She's not willing to change or learn, but that doesn't mean we have to subject ourselves to hatred.  I am so sorry for those she's already caused harm to, for those who tried so hard and had to put up with this, and for those who have had to deal with her even before this incident.
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ijustwant2write · 6 years
Text
Useless Excuses-Bjorn Ironside x Reader
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(GIF credit to owner)
Masterlist
Summary: requested by @lagerthabjorn: ‘Could you please do an imagine with bjorn, where he gets jealous over other men flirting with you and he gives you the silent treatment and you have no idea why he’s ignoring you. Then you get frustrated with him ignoring you so you confront him at a feast why he’s acting so weird somehow resulting in him leaving the feast and you running out to find him. You give up looking for him and return home just to find him there to confess his love for you and he doesn’t like to share (BASICALLY A LOT OF FLUFF AND ROUGH SEX) Thank you 💗’
Characters: Bjorn Ironside x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name (Y/F/N)= Your friend’s name
Warnings: Bit of swearing and arguing along with sexual themes (it was only the build up, I never write the actual sex so I hope this was ok for you)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
My hands were red raw as I scrubbed away the blood from my armour. (Y/F/N) and I were sat by the river, finally getting round to these errands. I always forgot how hard this was.
“Urgh, I still have three more pieces to clean.” I groaned, stopping for a moment.
“So do I. This is exhausting.” (Y/F/N) dropped her things and laid back.
I copied her.“We need slaves for this.”
“You should have just asked me.” I heard Bjorn’s voice. Resting on my elbows, I watched as he approached us.“I have many slaves that could have done that for you.”
“Shouldn’t you be training? I recall kicking your arse last time we sparred.”
He smiled.“I let you win. You’re the one who needs to train if you’re ever going to come raiding with me again.”
“So how come I’ve survived every battle we’ve faced?”
“The Gods like you.”
“Hello Bjorn.” (Y/F/N) interrupted. They had never really gotten along, she didn’t like the fact that Bjorn and I were closer.
His smile disappeared.“(Y/F/N).”
“If I am in such dire need of training then perhaps I should search for a good teacher.”
“Why look when he is standing in front of you?”
I pretended to shield my eyes from the sun, squinting into the distance.“Who do you mean? You’re standing in the way.”
He shook his head, laughing.“This afternoon. You’ll know where to find me.”
I watched as he walked away, only to be startled when I felt specks of water be flicked at me. Looking over at (Y/F/N), she had a fed up look on her face.
“What was that for?” I asked. “I thought you were smart.” she started to gather up her armour.
“What are you talking about?”
She stood up.“You see, you’ve just proven my point. You don’t see what is blatantly going on in front of you.”
She walked away and I was too confused to go after her. What was she on about? Deciding to ignore it and blame it on her hate of Bjorn, I carried on cleaning, watching the blood now again the clear water.
Just as Bjorn had said, I went to meet with him in the training grounds. We would normally meet there before venturing further into the woods where we could train in private. As I waited, I felt eyes on me. There were already some men sparring with each other as I stood off to the side, but I felt that they were not fully concentrating.
“(Y/N), you are looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.” Bard complimented as he walked up to me.
I refrained from rolling my eyes.“Thank you Bard but you did see me yesterday.”
“Exactly. Why are you stood here? Waiting for someone? Or are you here to watch me?”
“No I am waiting for someone.”
“It seems that you have been waiting for a while. Come on, why don’t I get you started?” Bard was a little shit and even though I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, a part of me was wanting to beat him up. He always underestimated the power of shieldmaidens, a huge mistake on his part. And what better way to pass the time? Agreeing to his offer, I unsheathed my sword, swinging it around to intimidate him; he was good at hiding this.
“Want me to go easy on you?” I smirked, preparing my stance.
“Aw, you’re so cute.”
This made me angry and I could not keep this at bay. As soon as he finished speaking, I lunged for him, swinging as hard as I could. Bard was a good competitor but I was hoping that his confidence would be his downfall. We went back and forth, both of us giving it as much as we had. But I had not trained for so long, this was starting to become tiresome, Bard had the upper hand. He cut my arm and my leg, causing me to stumble back. As I swung my sword at him again, he managed to block it and wrap his arm around me, turning me around so that my back was to him.
“Looks like you’re in need of a training partner.”
“She already has one.” someone else chimed in.
I felt Bard’s body be pulled away from mine. Turning around, I clutched onto my bleeding arm as I watched Bjorn throw Bard to the ground. Bjorn guided me away, his hand on my lower back as He scowled at the others who were watching. However, we didn’t head in the direction of our secret training spot, instead back to the village.
“Bjorn, what about training?” I asked as we walked up to my home.
“You’re hurt. We’ll do it another day unless you find someone else to do it with.” he spat.
“Bjorn-”
He interrupted me by pushing me inside, instantly heading towards where I kept any medical supplies. Without saying anything, he sat me down and started to clean my wounds. I was so baffled by his behaviour that I could not think of anything to say.
“You know I would never train with anyone else.” I said.
He didn’t reply. Bandaging up my injuries, he left all of a sudden, no goodbyes either. I scoffed out loud. Bjorn had always been stubborn and hotheaded though not like this.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A feast was being held in the great hall, however I was not there as I waited for Bjorn to arrive. We had decided to go together; it was more his idea but I didn’t mind. The feast would have started a half hour ago, now I had to turn up late. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I left my home. It was dark out, everything was more dangerous like this. This made me walk there quicker. Just as the great hall came into view, a hand clasped down onto my shoulder. I shrieked out loudly, ready to attack whoever it was.
“Sigurd! Why would you do that?!” I scolded him, a hand over my beating heart.
He chuckled.“You are never this jumpy. I am sorry for frightening you.”
“It’s alright. Shouldn’t you be inside already?”
“I was…preoccupied.” As the last word rolled off his tongue, a slave girl hurried out of the shadows, looking disheveled. Oh my.
“Right, of course you were. Well come on, I too am late.”
He walked beside me.“And why would that be?”
“Bjorn was supposed to escort me down here. It seems that he has all but forgotten me.”
“How could anyone forget you?” the doors were opened for us.“Your beauty is well known, not to mention the tales for being a strong shieldmaiden.”
I laughed awkwardly.“You are too kind. If you’ll excuse me.”
I quickly scurried away before he could take the conversation any further. When I felt a safe distance away, I grabbed a cup of mead and some food, scanning the room for any friends of mine. No one stood out to me, who knew where they could be amongst these crowds?
“(Y/N)! Come sit with us!” someone shouted out.
Turning around, I saw Asmund and Einar beckon me over to their table. I wasn’t going to find anyone else for the time being, might as well join some company. Sitting in between them, we clinked our cups before downing our drinks.
“Where do you keep disappearing off to (Y/N)? We miss seeing your face everyday.” Asmund leaned in closely.
I knew these men from raids and battles. We had saved others lives a number of times. Although they were not close friends, I considered them trusted companions.
“I have been busy.” I lied.
“You should come by more often. I know that it is not just us that would like to see you.” Einar added.
“And why is that?”
“Do not be so modest. Every man in this room wants you, they are desperate to know who holds your heart.”
I avoided eye contact.“I do not think that is true and nobody has my heart.”
Asmund poured me another drink.“I cannot believe you are not married yet. We should all be called mad men.”
Being too polite to get up and bolt away from this awful conversation, I stayed a few ore minutes, using that time to subtly look out for any friend that could come rescue me. But I found someone even better. Bjorn was stood in a corner of the room sulking. We made eye contact and I knew this was my chance. Without really explaining my sudden absence, I left Asmund and Einar, almost running to my bestest friend.
“I never thought that I would get away from them.” I grinned, standing next to Bjorn.
He didn’t say anything.
I tried to sound cheerful still.“Why did you not come get me? I was waiting for ages.”
Still nothing.
“Bjorn? Bjorn why are you acting like this? Just this morning we were gone and ever since training you have been nothing but rude to me.”
He tilted his head away from me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I have not done anything to hurt you nor be disrespectful which is what you’re being right now!” my voice was slightly raised though it made no difference in the hall.“We are best friends, best friends don’t treat each other this way.”
Bjorn crossed his arms, sighing dramatically. The nerve of him!
“What? Didn’t get your scheduled fucking from your little slave, is that it? You’ve built yourself and have nothing to release it to?”
I had obviously hit a nerve as he pushed himself off the wall and stormed away. I didn’t really think that my statement would affect him that much; I used to be jealous over a mere slave he used to fuck, she would steal all our time away. That was the only other time we argued, besides now of course. Frustrated with his childish antics, I rushed outside, trying to work out where he could have gone. This was going to take forever, he could be anywhere; even if I did go looking after him, I could be wandering into dawn. No, I wasn’t going to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t even tell me what was wrong. I was no longer in the mood for feasting or being surrounded by people, trudging all the way back home.
With a slumped posture, I signed as I locked the door, jumping for the second time that night when I turned to find Bjorn sitting at my table.
“I thought you would have stayed with your two new friends. Are they sharing you now?” he started.
I ignored his words.“You’re finally speaking to me?”
“So who does it work, one takes the back and the other the front? Or do they switch that around?”
“Bjorn!” I marched towards him.“I am not fucking either one of them.”
“Well if not them, how about my brother Sigurd? Or Bard?”
“I am not fucking anyone!” I shouted in his face.
“No you like to get off on the fact that every man pines after you, including me.”
I had to process this.“Wha-Bjorn, what did you just say?”
He stood up, easily towering over me.“You don’t understand do you?”
“No I don’t. Bjorn you are never like this, we are never like this! Why must we be so cruel to each other?”
Bjorn gripped onto my hands, pulling me closer.“I can’t hide it anymore.”
I waited for him to continue.
“(Y/N), we have been good friends for a number of years. But over that time I have started to care for you more deeply. I envision us being together, having a family. But when I see other men flirting with you, I know that I cannot say that I have claimed you; this makes me very angry.”
“Bjorn, why have you never told me this?”
“If you hadn’t felt the same, what would I do then?” he brushed some of my hair back.“I could not risk losing you.”
“You would have not lost me Bjorn, you would have me.”
Out eyes never left each other.“So I still have you?”
I nodded.“Of course you do. Where else am I going to find a man that has been beside me since we were children? Has fought beside me in battle? Treats me like a queen?”
“Only in me. I will never share you. You will be mine and mine alone. So you understand?”
I eargerly nodded again only to be interrupted by his lips on mine. We deeply kissed each other, hand instinctively roaming each other’s bodies. This was our chance to explore one another in a new light. My heartbeat sped up as I thought about all of this. Thinking more about it, I could never see myself with another man besides Bjorn. This was so right.
His hands slipped past my arse and down my thighs. I squealed as he lifted me into the table, roughly slamming my back onto it. He leaned over, his nose tracing my body, his breath making me shiver. My legs had a mind of their own as they spread for him.
“You have no idea how many times I have imagined taking you like this. To have you squirming beneath me as I claimed you.” He pushed up my skirts, exposing me.
“Even when fucking other women?” I breathed out as his hands slid up my thighs.
“You were the only woman I ever thought about.”
I made eye contact, smirking slightly.“Then claim me Bjorn. Let the whole world know that I am yours.”
548 notes · View notes
robininthelabyrinth · 7 years
Note
Mick/Georgie - on the Waverider or on some 2017 team up?
Fic: Patriae Pater - Plus One (Ao3 link)Fandom: DC’s Legends of TomorrowPairing: Mick Rory/George Washington; Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Summary: In which Mick becomes a part of history. (my director’s cut of Turncoat)
A/N: This is not the fic that answers this request. But it may serve as the prelude to that fic, if I ever get more inspiration for it. Also, this is about 90% inspired by the fact that George Washington was considered an extremely tall man because he was 6'2" in an era where people were a lot shorter - and the fact that Mick Rory, as portrayed by Dominic Purcell, is also 6'2".
===========================================
“I’m gonna strangle him,” Mick says again. He does not approve of the new Rip Hunter, who had been smirking at them as they were dragged away, leaving Sara in the dirt. You don’t do that shit to your crew.
Hell, he hadn’t even liked it when Len had taken care of someone who wanted ‘out’; he knew Len did it when he was on his own, but Mick wasn’t interested in being a party to –
He’s not going to think about Len now.
“Even if they try to kill us,” he adds.
“They’re not going to kill us,” Washington says, also again. “As I’ve told you, I will talk to their commanding officer when they reach their camp and arrange a prisoner exchange. It’s the honorable thing to do.”
Mick rolls his eyes. He doesn’t believe in honor at all, but much less in war. He’s seen the movies. He tosses aside another scrap of his chip bag – the outside was dull and interesting, but the inside shiny enough that Amaya would have to be blind as a bat to miss it – and asks, “Who’s their commanding officer, anyway?”
“Lieutenant General Cornwallis,” Washington tells him.
Mick wrinkles his nose. “He the big kahuna?”
“The…what?”
“Big fish. Man of the hour. The boss man.”
“Ah. No, General William Howe is responsible for the overall British effort. After him, it would be General Henry Clinton.”
“I always liked Clinton,” Mick says nostalgically. The ‘90s had been a pretty decent time.
“I must admit I didn’t know him,” Washington says, blinking. “Are you from New York, then?”
“Keystone,” Mick says with a shrug. “But I’ve visited New York.”
“Keystone…I’m not familiar with that county. Is that out west?”
“Yep.”
“You must tell me more about it. When I worked as a surveyor, I – ah, I see we’re here.”
They get led up to the man in the fancy wig.
“General Washington, as I live and breathe,” he says, smile on his smug little face. He’s a good foot shorter than Washington or Mick, but then again, most of these assholes are.
“Lieutenant General Cornwallis,” Washington says, inclining his head. “I would’ve preferred to meet you on the field of battle.”
“I must give credit where credit is due. I have a new colonel who’s most impressive. One might say he’s ahead of his time,” Cornwallis drawls.
“If you two are done yapping, I’d like my last meal,” Mick interjects. The way this going, it could take hours; he’s not Len, to enjoy the endless byplay of words.
“Take these men to my tent, and have them well fed,” Cornwallis says. “You’ll both be hung in the morning.”
“Sounds exciting,” Mick mutters. “What’d I tell you, Georgie boy?”
“I am an officer in the Continental Army, sir,” Washington protests. “You must treat me as a prisoner of war in a manner which is befitting of my rank.”
“This is not a war. This is a rebellion. And you will be hanged for treason against King George III!”
Mick sees Rip hovering at the edges of the crowd, collecting a team of men for who knows what purpose. Probably to go cause trouble.
Means it’s Mick’s job to stop it.
Washington is currently bargaining for Mick’s life – good man, albeit wrong about Mick’s level of guilt – so Mick waits till he’s done with that and interjects, “Good place for a hanging.”
Washington shoots him a mildly irritated look, while Cornwallis looks smug.
“Pity Howe can’t be here,” Mick says. “But I’m sure he’ll appreciate getting your message about it being over and done with without his input.”
Cornwallis’ smile freezes.
“Of course,” Mick says, scratching idly under his collar. It’s made of pretty rough-spun wool, and he suspects he might’ve developed fleas already, just from being manhandled by redcoats. “I’m sure he’ll understand why you couldn’t send a message. Continental forces are pretty scary, after all.”
“We’re hardly scared of your rag-tag little band of rebels,” Cornwallis scoffs, almost on cue.
Mick smiles with teeth. “But you’re still shaking in your britches about the thought of sending any of your men through us,” he says. “Or is it that you’re looking to get the credit yourself? Not that that’s a problem, of course.”
“Every man for himself, and bugger the rest, is it?” Washington asks. Mick glances at him approvingly. That was almost maliciously innocent. Georgie’s twigged to Mick’s game and he’s backing Mick’s play. Mick appreciates that in a man.
“Way it is for you Brits, ain’t it?” Mick adds in. “No argument from us. We get it.”
Cornwallis’ back straightens with what Mick likes to imagine is an almost audible pop. “Are you questioning my honor as a gentleman?”
“Yes,” Washington says. “Quite blatantly, if you’ll notice.” He pauses for a moment, appearing contemplative. “I believe my private is also calling you a coward.”
Okay, fine. Mick’s a big man. He’ll admit when he was wrong. Georgie’s not half bad.
“I’m sure whatever men you send’ll make it through,” Mick says encouragingly. “You can’t all be half-assed pansies, however you dress.”
Georgie appears to be fighting a smile.
Cornwallis knows he’s being played. That’s what Mick likes best; when they know they’re being played and you know you’re playing them, and they know you know, and there’s still nothing they can do about it.
This is why honor is stupid.
“I will prepare a message to General Howe informing him I’ve captured you and that I intend to hang you as soon as I have either his approval or his presence,” Cornwallis says very stiffly. “Lieutenant Ross!”
A nearby man snaps to attention.
“Fetch Colonel Hunter and inform him that he will be carrying a message for me as quickly as he is able,” Cornwallis instructs.
Perfect.
That’ll keep Rip busy for a while, undoubtedly to his annoyance.
Mick and Georgie get put into a tent. There are some guards outside, but otherwise it’s not particularly notable.
Georgie grins at Mick. “Well done,” he says approvingly. “I must admit, I wouldn’t have thought of that – immediately, at least.”
Snarky bastard. Mick grins back. “Sure you would’ve,” he drawls. “If there’s one thing you can always count on fucking everything up, it’s bureaucracy.”
Georgie arches his eyebrows. “Bureaucracy?”
“You know. When everything’s got to go through four different offices for approval, and you’ve gotta get three different signatures, except one guy’s on his lunch break and the other’s been transferred to a new department and they haven’t replaced him yet, and all you want to do is get something simple fix but they want to have at least three copies of your petition in triplicate…”
“Oh,” Georgie says. “That.”
“That,” Mick confirms.
“Bugger that.”
“Here, here,” Mick says approvingly, and goes to see if he can scout out the way the shift changes by peeping out the tent flap. Some things never change.
By the time he’s done with that, Georgie’s started scribbling something.
“When they change shifts, I’m going to bust us out of here,” Mick tells him. It’s a shitty plan, but there’s nothing like a shitty plan to get a better planner’s brain to start ticking.
One time when Len –
No. Not thinking about that.
“Are you so eager to die?” Georgie says, and suddenly he’s back to his hoity-toity mannerisms and speeches about honor and principles and a goddamn love letter to his wife and what it means to be an American.
Of course, it’s all bullshit, which is what Mick tells him.
“You don’t know the first thing about being an American,” he says, crossing his arms. “We’re misfits, outcasts, and we’re proud of it. If they attack in formation, we pop them off from the trees. If they challenge you to a duel, you raid their camp at night. And if they’re gonna hang you, you fight dirty and you never, ever give up. That’s the American way. What’s it gonna be, George?”
Georgie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t think you can skillfully toy with me the way you did Cornwallis,” he warns.”
“You may be a big guy,” Mick tells him. “But I’ve carted around bigger. You wanna help me plan this, or you want to be a sack of potatoes over my shoulder, it’s your choice. But we’re busting out.”
Georgie looks at Mick for a long moment. “I’m listening.”
Mick grins.
With what Mick knows about Rip, he suspects there will be a very short delay before the letter with Howe’s approval arrives. Georgie agrees with him that Cornwallis will accept a decent forgery that arrived far too quickly as being sufficient to cover his ass –
“CYA,” Georgie says, shaking his head and looking gleeful. “A shortening to be used in letters, I presume? I must tell Martha of it – she will enjoy it tremendously. It quite captures the spirit without losing any of the spice.”
– so they’ve bought themselves a few hours, at most, but a few hours is better than none.
“I’ll go scout out the – what do you call them?” Mick asks. “The place where they hang you.”
“Gallows?”
“Yeah, that.”
Georgie nods, tapping his lips. “Perhaps if there was a distraction when they’re all focused on the execution…”
Mick grins. “Ka-boom.”
Georgie looks at him in silent question.
Mick mimics an explosion with his hands. “Ka-boom.”
Georgie’s grin looks a little like Len’s in the low light, all wicked and understanding.
“How will you set it up?” Georgie asks. “The gunpowder I understand, but if we want it to be adequately impressive…”
“Don’t worry about that,” Mick says dismissively. “You’re gonna lecture me.”
“I’m…what?”
“Lecture me. About something. Politeness or something. And you’re gonna do it loud, you get me?”
“I do indeed. Godspeed, Mr. Rory.”
“Mick’s fine,” Mick tells him. “Mr. Rory’s reserved for British assholes.”
He slips out the back of the tent as Georgie starts loudly talking about something called ‘decorum’ and ‘propriety’ which sound like crap to Mick, but whatever. Georgie’s really giving it his all, pacing back and forth and waving his hands and quoting things in Latin. It’s a masterful display of showmanship, given that the guy he’s lecturing ain’t even there.
Mick might not be familiar with the exact mechanics of guns back in ye olden days, but he knows how to start a fire. The gunpowder is stacked in a good place, right in line of the new gallows being constructed, and a touch of kerosene on the barrels and the surrounding area will guarantee a good fire goes up fast.
God, Mick loves a good accelerant.
Mick also plants a few surprises. That involves going through the camp somewhat more thoroughly than he’d originally planned, but it’s not a problem. He’s pulled off his very American-ish jacket and left it in the tent, which means it’s chilly as fuck, but the first time someone looks up at him and starts to look suspicious, Mick makes a long-suffering face and mimes a hand of cards, which gets him a laugh. Him offering the content of his flask with a conspiratorial smirk gets him a friendly punch on the shoulder.
Them drinking a swig out of the flask gets him raised eyebrows of approval and a spare redcoat, which Mick appreciates wholeheartedly despite the bloodstains indicating it’s a spare due to previous usage. And probably has fleas.
Well, it certainly makes sneaking around easier.
By the time he gets back, he’s got two over-sized redcoats (never show a thief where you keep the spares), a working knowledge of a flintlock rifle, the basics of a grenade in his pockets and two maps with 'X’s all over 'em that he picked from the pocket of the guy with the fancy hat.
He figures Georgie will appreciate that.
By the time he gets back, Georgie’s started in with the 'when I was a child’ stories with a vaguely pinched look on his face that eases when he sees Mick.
“- and let that be a lesson to you,” he concludes, then exhales.
“Nice,” Mick says. “Lesson learned. Here’s what I’ve got.” And he lays out his loot.
“Mick Rory, you absolute scoundrel,” Georgie says, giant grin on his face. “I approve entirely. Were you with Sons of Liberty before joining up?”
“I was never much for organized institutions,” Mick says honestly.
“And yet you joined the army?”
“I said organized.”
Georgie actually guffaws at that. “Well, then,” he says with a smirk. “Let us show them what our disorganized institution can do, shall we?”
“Let’s,” Mick replies, and grins.
“You’re certain that they will not put you in chains?”
“Even if they do, I can get out of 'em,” Mick says. “I had a buddy who could pop his wrist out of joint to get out of one; now he was a regular Houdini.”
“Hou- sorry, what’s that?”
“Means escape artist.”
“I would hardly say escaping was an art.”
“Sure was the way my buddy did 'em.”
There was the sound of marching outside. Mick and Georgie share a look and stand up straight.
Cornwallis comes in, smug and smirking, letter in hand.
“I would have thought you were above forgeries,” Georgie says, looking down his nose at the Brit. “But perhaps not. My death warrant, I assume?”
The smugness pops like a balloon. “It is hardly –”
“The fastest horse in the world could not have made that distance,” Georgie says. “Or are you claiming that your newest colonel has devised a way to travel beyond our imagining?”
“Well, he has –”
“You know, my ma used to be the believing sort of naif,” Mick tells Georgie. “Mostly lost money out of it.”
“Better money than honor,” Georgie replies.
“The orders – which are legitimate – are for your immediate execution,” Cornwallis snaps. “Men, take them.”
“Very well,” Georgie says, and permits himself to be escorted. Mick follows, amused; Georgie really looks like he’s doing them a favor by letting them take him to kill him. It’s all in the shoulders and neck, in Mick’s opinion.
They get all the way to the last words bit before Georgie decides it’s time to give the signal.
“Yes, I have some last words,” he says archly. “In fact, I’ve learned a new one from my private - ka-boom.”
Mick drops his meek prisoner act, grabs a gun, and fires at the tubs of gunpowder that he tricked up with accelerant. He’s relieved to see that the musket doesn’t lock up or misfire.
It makes a beautiful blast.
He drops that gun, grabs another, and uses his next bullet to clear the gallows and bull-rush Georgie off of it, yank off the rope binding his arms, and then they’re in the thick of the brawl.
“Back!” Georgie calls, and Mick retreats with him, which is probably a good idea because the element of surprise is all well and good but the Brits are bringing out their drummer and those muskets have bayonets attached - perfect for close combat. Definitely time to run.
“The new weapons Colonel Hunter provided -” Georgie says as they’re jogging away.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Mick says.
“Oh?”
Mick smirks. “Oh, yeah.” On his travels through the British camp the other night, he’d taken a bit of time to lay a few misapprehensions around. It’d been surprisingly easy - he’d thought he’d have to stay quiet, since his British accent was shit, but it turned out all the Brits talked like regular Americans back in the day. Well, except the toffs. They’d had fun trying to guess where he was from - apparently most of them thought that Keystone resembled a place called Newcastle.
It was also remarkably easy to convince them that machine guns were experimental weapons nicknamed 'the friendly fire’ because of their tendency to pump out bullets so fast that the recoil jarred your arm and killed your friends before you even blinked.
Half the troops - hell, half the officers - wouldn’t use them now if you’d paid them, at least until they were flogged into compliance, and the other half still thought you needed to dump gunpowder down the front of them first, which wouldn’t help their operation.
Let’s just say Mick wasn’t too worried about a machine-gun bullet to the back; not anytime soon, anyway.
“We need to go to a river before they catch our scent,” Georgie says.
“Yeah,” Mick says and produced the red coats.
“They’ll see those for miles, Private.”
“I know. S'why I’m ditching 'em in whatever way we ain’t going. After that, though, this cross-country bullshit’s all on you.”
Georgie was rather clever about it, too, laying false scents and zigzagging around, but eventually they were pretty sure they’d lost the fuckers and found themselves a nice abandoned cabin, half-burned down, to rest for a while.
“It’s hardly acceptable for a gentleman to even contemplate,” Georgie says, frowning at it.
“Good thing I ain’t a gentleman,” Mick says, tossing himself down on the bed, which was way too small. “Fuck my feet. They cut off people’s heads to make them fit on these things?”
Georgie laughs. “My cot is custom made,” he says ruefully. “I encounter the same issue otherwise.”
Mick squints at him. “You’re rich,” he concludes. “Great.”
“I am indeed. You object?”
“On moral grounds.”
“Moral grounds?”
“Sure,” Mick says. “The rich mostly care about making themselves richer, or not getting any poorer, and blame the poor who’ve got no way to climb up for being poor.”
“That’s hardly true.”
“Uh-huh,” Mick says. “And you made all your money on your own, I bet.”
“I grew my inheritance -”
“No inheritance, no growth. Try again.”
Georgie’s face does some funny things before he comes to a decision and cracks a rueful smile. “I married a very wealthy woman, which was of considerable aid to me when I fell vastly in debt despite my best efforts.”
Mick laughs, which turns into a yelp when Georgie crawls into the bedding next to him. “Uh,” he says. “Personal space?”
“We ought to rest for a while if we’re to make my camp by sundown,” Georgie says like it’s obvious. “And it’s quite cold.”
“That’d be the river water on your boots,” Mick says.
“Indeed,” Georgie replies, but otherwise seems unmoved.
Well, if Georgie doesn’t mind, Mick’s not going to object. He yawns and throws a friendly arm over the other man, mentally does a little “ha-ha, Len, look what I’m doing” jig in his mind, remembers Len is dead, and then goes straight to sleep to avoid thinking about it further.
He wakes up a few hours later with Georgie’s face only a few inches away.
Mick blinks.
Georgie regards him steadily.
“Your breath stinks,” Mick offers.
Georgie snorts. “Yes,” he says. “I suppose so. We should go soon – I have an army to return to. Though Colonel Knox has made such preparations, I suspect he would continue whether or not I was there to participate.”
“Crossing the Delaware?” Mick asks, then glances outside at the dimming light. It’s still mid-afternoon, but there are storm clouds brewing. “Bad weather for it.”
“I have little doubt that if the river freezes over in its entirety, Cornwallis will have ordered an attack. We must hope for ill weather to keep them unawares – but not too ill to make the crossing.”
“Somehow,” Mick says, “I think it’ll go all right.”
“You can be on my boat,” Georgie says.
“Um,” Mick says. “Okay?”
He’d pretty much been expecting to be rescued by now, since history was back on track, but then again, maybe by delaying Rip by several hours had distracted the Legends.
Or the Legends ditched him. That’s a possibility.
Well, at least he knows Washington doesn’t drown in the Delaware.
“Okay,” he says again.
“Since you’re obviously not a real private.”
“I…could be?”
Georgie looks at him.
“Yeah, no.”
“Do you even have a regiment you’re pretending to be assigned to?”
“…pretty sure we didn’t think I’d be here this long.”
“What was your goal?”
“Saving your life, mostly,” Mick says. “I’m American, and I’d like to keep being American.”
“How would you not be American if I died?”
“Just go with it,” Mick says. “It gives me a headache to think about it, and I don’t got the fancy words I need to make it clear. But you need to live and you need to cross the Delaware if America’s gonna be independent.”
“You’re very certain of our success,” Georgie says with a sigh. “I wish I were the same. Our retreat from New York was – not particularly good.”
“You’ll do fine,” Mick says gruffly.
“I pray to God it be so,” Georgie says, then turns and squints at the light. “Another hour, I’d say; then we head out.”
Mick nods.
Georgie turns back. “And how should we pass that time, I wonder?”
Now, Mick’s been in prison, where the chance of seeing a girl is non-existent and you do with what you’ve got. He’s been out drinking at the gay bars, where a man like him can get bought a drink instead of doing the buying.
If this was anyone but George frigging Washington, he’d assume he’s being hit on.
Actually.
Even with that, it kinda came off that way.
“Uh,” Mick says.
“Only if you’re partial, of course,” Georgie says.
No, Mick is definitely being hit on.
“I’m partial,” he says, because, uh, he might be a grieving widower but he’s pretty sure Len’s ghost just rose up out of his grave to yell ‘You’d better hit that with the force of a cannonball right now, Mick Rory, or I’m gonna disown you!’ because how many times do you get a chance to make it with a Founding Father. “Assuming we’re talking the same language about what we’re both partial to, that is.”
Georgie smirks.
Turns out they are.
It’s nothing complex – for one thing, the bed is too small, they don’t want to muss up their clothing too much, and it’s fucking cold – but Mick’s never said no to getting and giving a helping hand before, and he’s certainly not planning to now.
Also, it’s George Washington. That’s just fucking awesome.
Mick is still vaguely star-struck afterwards during clean-up, which at least is pretty easy – Georgie produces a handkerchief, Mick does the cleaning, they’re both sated and pleased.
“Shall we?” Georgie says, nodding at the door.
“Hell yeah,” Mick says.
He regrets it about seven hours later, when he’s on a goddamn boat. In the middle of a hurricane. “Fuck this,” Mick says through chattering teeth.
“Chance to fight for your country,” another guy says. He sounds excessively cheerful through his thick Irish accident.
Mick shoves him into the water.
Georgie’s hand snaps out and catches the man by the back of the jacket, yanking him out of the water, plopping him back onto the boat.
The man coughs wetly.
Mick hands him a flask.
“You’re a ruddy bastard –” the man takes a slug. “– with mighty fine taste in whiskey.”
“You can finish it,” Mick grunts.
“Good man,” the man says approvingly. “John Haslet.”
“Mick Rory.”
“Pass it over,” another man grunts. “We’re not all from the swamps of Delaware.”
“Shove it, Trumbull. Not like Connecticut’s better.”
In the interests of peace, Mick reaches into his pocket and passes his second flask – the one with the good stuff – to the second guy.
“Good man,” the second says.
Then he takes a sip.
“Saints and angels,” he says, sounding vaguely awed. “I’ll immortalize you and your name will go down in history forever.”
Mick snorts. It’s not an unusual reaction to that stuff.
Then he reaches out and grabs the back of Georgie’s coat, since the general’s standing for balance and looking like he’s about to teeter over into the water, and that would just be undignified.
“Much obliged, Private Rory,” Georgie says.
Mick grunts. He’d say something cutting, but it’s cold and it’s wet and there’s a goddamn hurricane blowing.
He should’ve paid more attention to seeing if that famous painting had had icebergs in it before agreeing to this.
But they make it to the other side, all intact, Mick gets his flasks back, refilled with something foul but exceedingly alcoholic, and they march.
Oh, god, do they march.
Mick disapproves of marching.
“You have absolutely no conception of soldiering, do you?” one of the several men with bags filled with paper that followed Georgie around. He sounds amused.
“It’s not really my element,” Mick grunts.
“At least you have boots,” the man points out.
“No kidding,” Mick says. He’s noticed some of the other people don’t, which is just awful.
“I remember my first battle,” the man says. “Sucked balls.”
“I like you,” Mick says.
The man grins at him. “Best of luck to you, Private,” he says. “If you survive, I’ve no doubt we’ll be seeing more of you soon enough.”
And then he winks.
Mick is the first one to admit he doesn’t have much book learning or any of that crap, but he likes to think he knows people pretty well.
He is totally surrounded by people who’ve been partial to Georgie, isn’t he.
“You dog,” he says admiringly under his breath. “Shoulda put you on the hundred instead of Franklin.”
“Pssst!” something hisses in his ear. “Mick!”
That sounds like Haircut.
“Haircut?” Mick whispers.
“We’re here to rescue you!”
Mick rolls his eyes. “About time. I think I’ve got fleas.”
“Gross. We’ll meet you by the camp, pick you up.”
Sure enough, by the time they get to where the impromptu camp has been set up – mostly to wait for the other groups they were meeting on this end – Sara and the rest of them are there.
Georgie motions for Mick to follow him inside and raises a flask. “To fighting like an American,” he says, grinning.
“I always do,” Mick says. Then it occurs to him. “Say, Georgie, I’ve got some thoughts on the criminal justice system –”
Georgie looks interested, but then one of the guys with the papers pops his head in. “The troops are all across,” he says. “No casualties. We’re awaiting you outside, General Washington.”
“And we have to go,” Sara says, entering behind him with Stein and Nate at her side, smile fixed on her face. “C’mon, Mick.”
Georgie eyes her and nods a little. “I don’t understand much of what I’ve seen, but the world is changing. And you are no small part of that. Sir.”
“Well, Georgie, it’s,” Mick tries to find the right words, and settles on, “it’s been a pleasure.”
Georgie smirks.
It also turns out the so-called love letter Georgie had tried to have him deliver was a battle strategy.
“I wanted to ensure my men would receive it in the event of my death. The Hessians will be receiving a Christmas surprise this evening,” he says with a grin.
“You sneaky bastard,” Mick says approvingly. “Not such a gentleman after all.”
Georgie laughs and puts his hands on Mick’s shoulders. “With your rebel spirit, your steadfastness, your crass yet effective use of language, you, Mr. Rory, represent the best of what our new nation can be.”
Mick blinks.
Sara blinks.
Stein blinks.
Nate blinks.
Mick’s pretty sure Ray’s there, floating, too small to see, but he’d bet he’s blinking right now too.
“Uh,” he says. “Yes, yes, I do.”
And then he gives Georgie a close hug and heads out with the others.
“That was weird,” Nate says. “George Washington thinks Mick is a good American.”
“He must be confused,” Sara says dismissively.
Mick contemplates telling them about the whole horny bastard bit, but figures they wouldn’t believe him.
He just thinks about the two maps with the Xs that he slipped into Georgie’s pocket – maps that looked pretty similar to the ‘battle strategies’ that Georgie had slipped into his ‘love letter’ – and grins.
Then they get back on the ship and Sara asks Gideon if the timeline’s been fixed and –
Goddamn fucking Trumbull.
Turns out he actually did immortalize Mick forever by plopping him straight in the background of a bunch of his sketches and paintings from the period, and that’s what inspired some asshole of a sculptor to add him to the set of statuary that got made permanent in Washington D.C. by Nixon of all people.
Though, in fairness, that was the good whiskey.
————————————————————————
“So what’d I miss?” Len asks, now that he was back where he belonged and the initial celebrations were over, though Mick had some additional celebrations in mind for later.
“Ninjas,” Mick says immediately.
“Oh god,” Len says.
“I got knighted by Queen Guinevere,” Ray says.
“I’m Captain now,” Sara says.
“Dinosaurs,” Nate says.
“Mobsters in 1930s Chicago,” Amaya says.
“Einstein,” Stein says.
“I slept with George Washington,” Mick adds.
“You saved George Washington,” Sara corrects.
“No, I’m pretty sure he meant what he said,” Len says, looking delighted. “You fucked a Founding Father, Mick?”
“Hell yes I did,” Mick says proudly.
“George Washington wasn’t gay,” Nate says.
“He was in the army,” Len says dismissively. “And without central heating, too. How was he?”
“No, but – it doesn’t – Mick didn’t –”
“I did,” Mick says. “It was decent enough. Mostly ‘cause it was Georgie. Star-struck, you know?”
Len’s nodding.
“Are you serious?” Sara says. “I can’t believe you –”
“You’re Lancelot,” Mick points out. “And you fucked the Queen of France while we were getting shot at. Least I did my fucking when it wasn’t bothering anyone else. Or the timeline.”
“– okay, shutting up now.”
“I have a statute,” Mick tells Len.
“We should go back and have a threesome,” Len replies.
“We should not,” Rip says, sounding horrified.
“Who’s ‘we’? You’re not invited anyway,” Mick tells him. “And you’re not even the Captain anymore.”
“Regardless: no,” Rip says firmly. “Absolutely not.”
———————————————————————————
“Okay,” Nate says. “We need to convince George Washington to come with us. We need to convince the Father of the American People to just up and leave behind his commitment to his country to help us.”
“To help us save the timeline and the world,” Ray points out.
“I know, it’s just – I feel like it’s going to be a tough sell. He’s doing his duty to his country already, you know?”
“When are we picking him up from?” Sara asks.
“1794. Two years into his second term as President. How are we going to approach this?”
“Let me try,” Mick says.
He spots Georgie walking through a garden, a pensive look on his face.
“Hey, Georgie boy,” he says.
Georgie looks up and his face clears. “Mr. Rory,” he says. “No – you prefer Mick, correct?”
“That’s right,” Mick says, grinning. Georgie remembers him! “So, if I said you could have a several week long vacation and get back in time for dinner this evening, would you agree to come save the world?”
“Lead the way,” Georgie says.
“That was – less trouble than I thought it would be,” Nate says, blinking a bit.
“You don’t have any questions?” Ray asks Georgie.
“I’m certain Mick will explain everything in time,” Georgie replies with a shrug.
“You’re very easy-going,” Sara says. “More than I remember.”
“Perhaps,” Georgie says. “Mick, what was that wonderful phrase you coined – the one about how government works – or rather, doesn’t work?”
“It was – uh –”
“Bureaucracy?” Len suggests, because he knows Mick’s brain better than Mick does.
“That’s the one,” Georgie says. “I repeat my sentiments on the subject, which I expressed to you on the previous occasion of our meeting.”
“Was this the one where he said ‘bugger that’?” Len asks Mick.
“Yep,” Mick replies, grinning. “Georgie, this is my partner, Leonard Snart. You’ll like him.”
Len sticks out a hand. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he drawls with a faint smile. “Heard you never got to talk with Mick about his thoughts on the criminal system. Got some myself. We’ll have to talk more about it.”
“You most certainly will not,” Rip says.
“Fuck you, Rip,” Len replies, still smiling. He’s been saying that a lot.
Mick slings a friendly arm over Georgie’s shoulder. “C’mon, Georgie,” he says. “Lots to catch you up on, I think.”
“I’m certain,” Georgie says dryly. “What manner of contraption are we in, to begin with?”
“It’s a ship,” Mick says. “It travels through time.”
“That seems useful.”
“Not as much as you’d think…”
95 notes · View notes
rxbxlcaptain · 7 years
Text
Once Upon A Disaster
I wrote this for @therebelcaptainnetwork​‘s secret Valentine exchange. They originally required these stories be at least 1,000 words, but, as always, I got carried away with these two, so my story is six times that. The prompt “modern AU or a school/college AU” was given to me by @mamushkababuska​. Needless to say, that gave me plenty of room to improvise and take this plot where I wanted it to go. As they say, write what you know, and what I know is the struggles of a pre-med major in college, so I forced poor Cassian to suffer in similar ways to myself.
That being said, I’ve worked plenty of science terms, including CRISPR technology. Like I don’t own Star Wars or any of these characters (or even e.e. cummings), I do not own the ideas behind CRISPR, nor did Galen Erso discover that amazing science. I encourage you all to look up the fascinating topic that is CRISPR and marvel at the truly talented scientists that are changing the way we approach medicine.
Without further ado, here’s the story… Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!
Words: 6129
FF.Net / AO3 / Below the Cut!
Cassian Andor didn’t do love or relationships or even one-night stands. Flirting, drawing up romantic dinner plans, enticing a girl to come back to his apartment: the romance process took up way too much money and time. If there was one thing Cassian Andor didn’t have enough of, it was time.
No, he needed to fit the course load of a biochemistry/anthropology double major into his semester. He needed to take a couple more shifts washing dishes at the diner this weekend so that the rent could get paid. (He flatly refused for Kay to insist on covering him again.) He needed to type up the meeting minutes from his pre-med club. He needed to decide on his spring break plans: building homes in an impoverished town outside of New Orleans with Habitat for Humanity or vaccinating children in the Dominican Republic with Doctors Without Borders? He needed to keep up his 4.0 GPA so he could get a coveted summer internship at the cancer hospital in the city. He needed to land that internship so that Johns Hopkins medical school would look at his application.
The number one thing Cassian Andor did not need was a distraction.
And if Cassian had to describe Jyn Erso in two words, that’s what it would be. A Distraction.
She began by distracting their lab supervisor for organic chemistry. Ten minutes after the lab’s scheduled beginning, long after the introductory video for the lab had been shown, Jyn walked into the class.
No, “walked” was far too anticlimactic of a word. Jyn shoved her way into the lab, banging the door against the nearest wall and forcing the instructor to stop his lecture on safety.
The students stared, stunned past the point of mobility, at the latecomer. She wore, not the mandatory white lab coats and safety goggles like the other twenty-four students already sitting at their desks, but a Beatles tank top and flip flops. A half-hearted bun contained most of her hair, but much of it rebelled against its prison, falling into her eyes instead. She at least seemed to recognized that the cup of coffee in her hand violated some form of protocol, if her quiet “oops” and subsequent chugging of the liquid was any indication.
“You must be Miss Erso,” the instructor sighed, sounding resigned to the girl’s rule breaking rather than irritated, as Cassian expected. Longed for any other seat in the room, because next to his was the only unoccupied spot in the entire room.
Jyn gave a sloppy salute before heading towards Cassian, giving him a nod as she sat down.
At the front of the room, the instructor continued his lecture. “If you turn to your left,” Cassian flatly refused to look at the girl, “you’ll see your lab partner for the semester. Spend the next few minutes introducing yourself.”
In lieu of an introduction, Jyn asked, “Do you have a pen I could borrow? I forgot to bring one.” Without waiting for a response, she reached into his bag to find one, emerging with Cassian’s favorite pen, which she promptly dropped on the floor. “Oops.”
Cassian resisted the urge to groan.
 As if her entrance to class wasn’t bad enough, she managed to take Cassian’s pen—who doesn’t bring a pen to the first day of class? —and leave her syllabus behind in her exit. Luckily, her flip flops made enough noise down the hallway that Cassian could follow her.
“Hey! Jyn!”
She paused, looking up from her smartphone.
Cassian shoved the syllabus at her. “You forgot this.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he added, “And you took my pen.”
“I knew I was forgetting something.”
For Christ’s sake, was everything about this woman so apathetic? Surely, surely, Cassian thought, she has some kind of drive, some kind of motivation.
“Listen,” Cassian stopped her before she could walk away again, “This class is extremely important to me.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you need me to be a good little lab partner for you? So as to not screw you over?”
“Basically.”
She gave him a calculating look. “You’re trying to get into med school, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am.”
She snorted.
“What?” Cassian growled, suddenly defensive. “Why are you taking organic chemistry then?”
She shrugged. “Thought it looked interesting.”
Cassian watched her walk away for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open in confusion. She was two blocks down the street before Cassian realized he hadn’t gotten his pen back from her.
“She’s taking organic chemistry for the hell of it, Kay. What kind of person does that?”
“That increases her chances of being a psychopath by at least thirty-two percent.”
Cassian had first met Kaden Sage Ogden the Second his first night in the dorm. Kay—as he insisted on being called, rather than actually using the “horrid name” his father insisted on passing onto him—had a tremendously high IQ and a tendency to say whatever he wanted around people, especially, it seemed, if the comment was better left unsaid. Cassian hadn’t managed to shed his awkward skin from youth, his impoverished background insisting that he did not belong among the preppy eighteen year olds who came to college equipped with shiny smartphones and daddy’s credit card. Both boys were labeled as “social outcasts” within their life day. Cassian had begun resigning himself to social isolation until Kay approached him and, as was his style, began saying whatever he wanted, starting with, “Bets on how many of these idiots need to get their stomachs pumped tonight?”
Add in that they had the same career plans—turns out Kay wanted to go to med school, as well—and there began the longest, and best, friendship Cassian Andor ever had.
Two years later and the pair now lived together. Where Cassian declared biochemistry as his major, Kay had decided on psychology. Unfortunately, rather than helping him understand how people worked, it only helped Kay prove what was wrong with them. Hence deducing Jyn Erso’s probability of being a psychopath.
“Remind me why you’re attracted to her?” Kay turned the page of his neuroscience book, the question casually curious.
“I’m—what?! Kay, I’m not attracted to her. Christ, why would you even say that?”
Kay stared over the top of his book, one eyebrow cocked high. “Something to do with how approximately sixty-five percent of our conversations now include mentions of Jyn Erso.”
Cassian bristled, defensive. “Because she happens to be my partner in organic chemistry, a class I need an A in to get into med school someday. This is my future she’s fucking with. Of course I’m always thinking about her.”
“You managed to connect a ketchup bottle to Jyn Erso.”
Cassian didn’t have an excuse for that one.
“Personally, I suggest you just sleep with her and get it over with. Then our lives can go back to normal.”
“I’m not attracted to her.” But he sounded petulant, even to his own ears.
“And here I thought of denial as a stage of grief, not of love.”
“Move that beaker farther away from the flame,” Jyn ordered.
Cassian tossed the lab manual at her. “Temperature should be at ninety-five degrees Celsius. That’s what the thermometer says it is, so I think I’m leaving it there.”
“You’ll speed up the metabolic rate too much and we’ll never be able to see the reaction properly.” Her words were confident in the face of the contradictory instructions.
He gave her a long stare. “Are you honestly attempting to tell me that you know better than the Ph.Ds. who wrote this?”
She seemed offended that he would ask. Without waiting for his opinion, Jyn adjusted the height of the beaker and continued with the experiment. Cassian would never admit it out loud, but the change in temperature, less than three degrees Celsius, led to what the lab instructor praised as the best example of hydroboration in the lab.  
“Captain,” Jyn announced as they cleaned their station. “I think that’s what I’ll call you, since you’ve got such a hard on for the rules.”
A week later, Jyn marched into lab with what she deemed a compromise. Cassian had never been so suspicious of anything in his life.
“Since you’re such a fan of following the rules, I edited the lab manual.” Indeed, her copy of the book had edits made throughout the text, white out covering the original text and new temperatures and mass amounts written over it in black ink. “This way, I know it’ll work and you’ll feel like you’re following instructions, rather than going rogue with me.”
“I don’t think this counts as following instructions.”
Jyn inclined her head, clearly saying Maybe, maybe not.
Glancing over his shoulder to ensure the lab instructor wouldn’t see their insubordination, Cassian followed her instructions. When, just like last week, their results were better than the rest of the lab, Jyn gave Cassian a significant look, as if expecting praise for her superior ways, which Cassian blatantly ignored.
Labs continued this way: Jyn providing superior instructions, Cassian following reluctantly. Every week, the question of how she always knew a better method danced on his tongue, but he never asked and Jyn never offered the information.
Of their three lectures a week, Jyn always skipped one and attended another. Cassian surmised that she must toss a coin in the air to decide if she the third lecture was worth her attention. Heads I go bother Cassian for an hour. Tails I give him a reprieve.
At the beginning of the semester, Cassian had worried this would mean she would demand his notes on a regular basis. She never once asked, though she must have been getting the information somewhere because she never seemed behind in the next lecture she graced with her presence. If anything, Cassian was forced to admit several weeks into the course, she remained ahead of even the most diligent students. It wasn’t enough for her to know that dienes could be formed from halides under basic conditions and alcohol under acidic conditions; she wanted to debate with the professor about the ideal conditions for the transition.
More times than Cassian cared to admit, she ended up winning those debates.
What he hated to admit even more was how often he turned to her for help in studying for the midterm. If his notes needed clarification, if he just couldn’t understand the difference between enantiomers and diastereomers, Jyn knew the answer. Asking her for help was just as useful as attending the professor’s office hours. The only thing Cassian could never figure out was how she knew all the information so easily. Maybe she had taken the class before and was repeating it; maybe she was secretly a TA infiltrating the class, like on Undercover Boss. Unfortunately for Cassian’s curiosity, Jyn tended to be just as tight lipped about her past as he was with his, so his questions remained unanswered.
The day of the exam, Jyn beat Cassian to class. She gave him half a smile as he sat down, though he barely noticed. Half his mind screamed in a panic while the other half desperately attempted to remember that panic did nothing for his ability to focus. The battle was turning to all out civil war, and Cassian worried that the only loser would be his exam grade.
“I lost at least three nights of sleep for this exam,” Cassian grumbled, unsure if he was talking to Jyn or if he was just lamenting his loss.
“That’s… dedicated,” Jyn said slowly. Somehow, Cassian got the feeling that wasn’t the word she wanted to use.
“How long did you spend studying then, Miss Know-it-all?”
She shrugged, nonchalant. “I flipped through my notes a few times.”
Cassian choked on his coffee. “You what?! Jyn, this exam is worth a third our grade.”
She merely hummed in response, flipping the page in her notebook with one hand. Taking advantage of his shock, she reached out to steal the coffee out of Cassian’s hand. Her face contorted upon tasting it. “Would you like a little coffee to go with your sugar there, Captain?”
“No one said you had to drink it,” Cassian said sullenly, moving the cup further from Jyn.
“Won’t make that mistake again.”
Rather than last second reviewing, as the exams were passed out, Cassian’s brain wondered just how strong Jyn Erso must take her coffee if a singular pack of sugar and a splash of milk counted as more sugar than coffee.
Eighty-five percent. Cassian scored an eighty-five percent on his midterm. Assuming this was before the curve—the main god that pre-med students worshipped—Cassian could finally exhale, letting out a little of his stress.
Until, of course, he saw the blue exam booklet sitting on his lab partner’s desk.
“A ninety-two?” Cassian exclaimed, grabbing the exam away from Jyn’s uninterested face. “You said you barely studied!”
“I didn’t.”
Cassian stared at her, an obvious What the fuck? expression on his face. “I call bull. No one gets a ninety-two on an o-chem exam without studying.”
“Surely you’ve taken a microbiology course, right?”
“Obviously.” What did this have to do with her acing an o-chem exam without studying?
She stared at him for a second, and spoke slowly, how one would speak to a toddler. “My father is Galen Erso.”
A few moments passed before the name clicked into place.
“Galen Erso? As in, the man who invented CRISPR, Galen Erso?”
“That would be the one.”
Only this girl, Cassian thought, would calmly proclaim her father as a world renounced scientist with that air of flippancy. CRISPR could change everything about the world of science, completely rework medical research, by giving people the ability to edit entire genomes.
“That’s amazing,” Cassian breathed, trying to remember more details of her father’s work. “I read one of his papers from a few years ago, the improvements— “
“Listen,” Jyn cut him off, “I’ve heard the whole speech before, okay? Jyn, your father is amazing! Jyn, you must be so proud! I don’t need to hear it again. Just take it as an explanation for the grade.”
Jyn stared him down for a moment as if challenging Cassian to continue his praise of her father’s work. Luckily—or maybe it was unluckily, Cassian wasn’t sure—the instructor called them to attention after a moment and Jyn took the chance to look away. Cassian, however, continued to stare at her, slack-jawed. He began to believe that, no matter what he did, he would never understand Jyn Erso.
A quick Google search that afternoon pulled up more information on Galen Erso for Cassian. As he remembered, Dr. Erso had been the original microbiologist to discover CRISPR’s ability to cut through double stranded DNA. His work had since been taken over by a Dr. Orson Krennic two years previous. The next page told him the reason.
Galen Erso had died of pancreatic cancer.
All at once, Jyn’s harsh reaction to discussing her father made sense.
Cassian Andor had a table in the library. He was there from the time his data analysis lecture let out at 2:30 until his shift at the diner began at 6, every weekday.
Cassian wouldn’t call himself superstitious. He didn’t need to sit at this table, per se, but it was his favorite table. He wanted to sit there. Far enough from the café that the incessant chatter and strong coffee smell were present but kept to a minimum, right by a window so he could see the outside world when his nose stayed in a book for hours: if they gave Academy Awards in the library, “Best Table” would be presented to his table every year.
Luckily, Cassian had only said this out loud once. Kay had been the only one listening, and he thankfully let the whole conversation bury itself and never resurface.
If there was anyone in the universe Cassian did not want to explain his love of this table to, it was Jyn Erso. The woman currently using his favorite seat at his favorite table.
“You are sitting at my table.”
She snorted without looking up from her books. “Are there assigned seats in the library I wasn’t aware of? A signup sheet I missed?”
“I always sit here.”
“Bully for you. I’m sitting here now.”
“Not anymore you’re not. Move.”
“Captain,” she sighed, finally looking up at him. “There are three more seats at this table. For Pete’s sake, sit in one.”
Huffing, Cassian took a seat and pulled out his physics textbook. For the first few minutes of work, Cassian firmly ignored Jyn’s presence at the table, forcing all his energy into three-dimensional vectors. Jyn, however, was not as dedicated to Cassian’s ideal of silence. He knew from lab that Jyn was an external processor: she would repeat measurements to herself or mutter under her breath almost constantly while they wrote observations. If she wasn’t talking, she fidgeted in some way, clicking her pen or doodling in the margins of her notes. What Cassian wasn’t accustomed to was seeing Jyn frustrated, which she definitely was now. She made several angry sounding exhales before Cassian raised his head to question what could possibly frustrate the great Jyn Erso this badly.
Jyn didn’t seem to notice him at all. Her left hand fisted the hair that traditionally fell in her face while her right hand held a pen—was that his pen? —so tightly her knuckles had turned white. In front of her sat a book of poetry and a notebook whose only notes had been harshly scribbled out. Her pen jabbed at the poem a few times, as if Jyn could stab the words away.
Cassian cleared his throat. “Having difficulties?”
Jyn glared at him with the same acidity she gave her book. “This isn’t in English,” she complained, her voice a strange mix between a growl and a whine.
Cassian pulled the book to him. E.E. Cumming’s “a connotation of infinity” stared back at him; no wonder she didn’t understand a lick of what it said. No capitalization, strange punctuation, illogical sentence structure: poetry didn’t have a clear answer like science did. It spoke to the soul, to raw emotions Cassian guessed that Jyn had shoved away years ago.  
“I can assure you it’s not in Spanish,” Cassian offered. “Poetry has a language all to itself.”
“It’s a stupid language.” Jyn’s head landed on the table, her arms forming a protective cage around it.
Cassian read the poem she was struggling with:
connotation of infinity
sharpens the temporal splendor of this night
               when souls which have forgot frivolity
in lowliness, noting the fatal flight
of world whereto this earth’s a hurled dream
 down eager avenues of lifelessness
“Souls which have forgot frivolity…” Cassian murmured, running his fingers along the words. His stomach clenched, an involuntary reflection of his childhood days without food. Visions of his parents, gone when he was just a child, flowed through his mind. These past traumas were etched deep into his soul and, traditionally, Cassian believed them to be indescribable. Apparently his brain and not the English language limited him, because E. E. Cummings understood.
Jyn, Cassian knew, had not spent her life away from tragedy. She knew the deep pain E.E. Cummings described, if only she would let herself feel it.
“Read it out loud,” Cassian urged her. “Maybe it’ll help.”
Jyn glared, but complied.
…When what’s in velvet beyond doomed thought…
“None of this is logical,” Jyn concluded at the end.
“It’s not about logic. It’s about feeling. He’s found a way to bring emotions into words.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you were a biochemistry major, not a lit major,” Jyn quipped.
Cassian shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions.”
She stared at him slowly for a moment, her eyes softening. “Me neither, I suppose.”
Jyn pulled the book back to her half of the table, picking up her pen with more confidence than before. Cassian tried to turn his attention back to his physics textbook, but his eyes wandered to her movements frequently. Notes remained in her notebook without being scratched out and the tension drained out of her face.
Cassian had been in awe of her during organic; the way she floated through one of the most difficult courses at the university gave even the professors, not to mention Cassian, pause. But, in a moment of sheer surprise, Cassian found himself more taken by Jyn Erso in her moment of struggle, watching her fight beyond the difficulty and emerge victorious. As Jyn put her finishing touches on her annotations and smiled, proud of her work, Cassian knew he was in trouble.
like a woman amorous to be known;
and man, whose here is always worse than naught,
feels the tremendous yonder for his own—
Of all the people Cassian expected knocking on his door at 10 o’clock on a Friday night—not that many people frequented his and Kay’s place—Jyn Erso definitely wasn’t one of them.
“I come bearing a peace offering,” she stated when Cassian opened the door, holding a bottle of vodka in her left hand and a Chinese takeout bag in her right.
“There better be orange chicken in there,” Cassian threatened in a way of greeting, leaving the door open as an invitation.
“Kay,” Cassian addressed his lounging roommate, “this is Jyn.”
This piqued Kay’s interest enough to glance away from the crime show on the television. “Ah, the infamous lab partner.”
“Glad to know my reputation precedes me,” Jyn called from the door where she kicked off her shoes.
“Trust me,” Kay snorted, “Cassian has mentioned you.”
“Only bad things I hope.”
God forbid, but she smiled, and Cassian wanted to laugh. He wanted to throw his arm around her shoulder and pull her close, maybe even press his lips to her hairline. She looked at him, her eyes still glowing with the smile, and Cassian thought she might have been the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
He moved himself away from those thoughts quickly, offering to grab glasses and plates instead. Small as the apartment was, he could easily hear Kay’s insensitive “Cassian doesn’t trust you, which means neither do I.”
“Charming,” Jyn replied, apparently unfazed.
Cassian hurried to Jyn’s side before Kay had the chance to throw any other backhanded comments.
Kay didn’t seem too interested in continuing to insult Jyn, however. Instead, he glanced between the Jyn and Cassian quickly, no doubt analyzing their body language and movements. “Think I’ll retire early, kids,” he concluded, getting up from the couch. “Don’t drink that entire bottle tonight, or there’s a good chance you won’t be awake for work in the morning, Cassian.”
Jyn snorted as he walked away. “So is he your roommate or your house mother?”
Cassian shrugged, reaching for the food as a distraction.
Ignoring Kay’s advice, the bottle of vodka neared empty by the time the fried rice was gone and they had finished fighting over the last piece of orange chicken. Turns out the casual drinking, the characters on TV providing background noises, was the key to unlocking the story of how Jyn grew into the laziest, smartest, most standoffish pain in the ass Cassian had ever met.  
“The science, well, it was my father’s whole life. He practically lived at the lab, only coming home to sleep and shower and maybe eat. It drove my mother insane for years before she left. But,” Jyn paused, giving a small snort. “She wasn’t much the parenting type herself, so I was shoved off onto my father in the custody hearings. Nothing was important enough to stop his work, though, so I joined him in the lab. I grew up playing with centrifuges and memorizing Hess’s Law. For a fifteenth birthday present, I became a full member of his lab.” Another swig of vodka. “I could have gotten my bachelor’s degree years ago, maybe even my master’s.”
Cassian shook his head. “See, that’s what I don’t understand. You’re wasting your time around us peasants and our poorly calibrated machines. Why? Is this some form of rebellion for you?”
Jyn stayed quiet for a second. “He died. He died and I couldn’t stand to look at the lab. Everything I knew about science, everything I loved about it… All of it was tainted. With memories of him. So I took off, ran away from everything I knew. But, without all of it, I didn’t know who I was.” She turned, smiling at Cassian again. “So I’m here until I figure out.”
Their faces, Cassian’s alcohol fogged brain belatedly noticed, were much closer than he realized. His hand had snaked its way behind her shoulder and hers rested on his knee. His eyes stared into hers, though he tried to ignore quick glances she kept giving his lips.
“You don’t drink much, do you?” Jyn asked, her voice softer than he had ever heard it. Her fingers moved, just as softly, to his lips, lightly outlining them, following as he shook his head.
“I don’t have time to waste on drinking and a hangover.”
“It’s not always a waste, you know.”
“Oh really? What’s the benefit?”
“This.”
And she kissed him.
Her lips were gentle, barely brushing his. She pulled back after a second, but Cassian followed, matching the sweet kiss she had given him. The gesture was too romantic for the setting, the cops on the TV still attempting to solve some bloody murder, empty take out containers littering the coffee table, the lights around them harsh, designed for studying, not romantic trysts on the couch.
But, god, she tasted good. Cassian couldn’t resist meeting her lips with more force, winding his hand into her hair and grabbing hold. He didn’t mind in the slightest when Jyn took charge, the way she did with everything in her life, by swinging one of her legs over his. Cassian bit her bottom lip and, if her answering moan was any indication, she enjoyed it just as much as he did.
After a few minutes of messing up hair and battling tongues, Jyn reached down to the hem of his shirt, toying with the muscles of his abs; her cold fingers snapped Cassian back to the room. He groaned pulling away from her lips, and glanced at the clock. 2:04 AM.
“Jyn?”
She didn’t respond, her lips and teeth occupied against Cassian’s throat.
“Jyn, I have to be at work in six hours. I need to sleep.”
With a sigh, she pulled away, moving off his lap and standing up. With her lips swollen and her hair beautifully disarrayed thanks to Cassian’s wandering hands, the last thing he wanted to do was let her go. As if sensing this, she reached back for him, placing a hand on his face and one last kiss on his lips.
“I’ll see you in lab,” Cassian whispered.
“Not if I see you first.”
She calmly gathered her shoes at his door and left without looking back. Cassian exhaled, a weird mixture of a groan and a sigh. What had he just done?
Two weeks later, Jyn appeared at his door again, armed again with vodka and take out bags.
“Indian this time. Variety is the spice of life and all that.” She didn’t even wait for Cassian to respond before forcing her way through his front door.
“Jyn Erso and the revolting smell of curry? Spare me, please,” Kay called from the kitchen.
“Ah, Kay, too kind for words, as usual.” Considering most people’s reaction to Kay, Jyn’s sarcastic response was nothing.
“No need to worry,” Kay shot back, “I won’t be staying long. In the words of that little wizard boy, ‘I’ll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don’t exist.’” With that, he closed the door to his room.
Jyn sent a questioning glance towards Cassian.
“He tends to say the first thing that crosses his brain and there was a Harry Potter marathon on this weekend.”
Jyn still looked bewildered, not that Cassian could blame her, but seemed to accept Kay’s behavior. She moved to their spot on the couch—when had it become their spot?—to sit down. Cassian went to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of coke, which he poured a generous portion of vodka into. They ate and drank in silence for a few minutes, their attention on the TV, before Cassian turned to her.
“Did you have more life secrets to share?”
“No,” Jyn answered, fiddling with the various take out boxes out on the coffee table. “I figured we could do you this week. After all, you could fill out an entire dossier on my life.”
He could, he supposed. He could fill out where she was born, her skills and her weaknesses, the labs she had worked in and what experiments she knew best. However, what Cassian wanted to know wouldn’t fit into the cold, hard facts of a dossier. Cassian wanted to know what he looked like before her coffee in the morning, her favorite food to grab when she was still studying at two in the morning, what she remembers of her mother, if she picked up her constant muttering from her father.
He wanted to know her in a way he had never wanted to know anyone before, and that scared him.
Jyn misinterpreted his silence as reluctance to speak about himself, because when she spoke again, it was in a smooth and reassuring tone, her eyes innocent and inviting. “You don’t have to, of course, it’s just… Trust goes both ways, Captain.”
“I trust you.” And he did. Idly, he wondered when that happened. “I just wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Where’s home?”
“Here, I guess,” Cassian shrugged. Naturally she would start with the most complicated question. “First place I ever felt wanted.”
“You didn’t when you were growing up?”
Cassian snorted. “My parents died when I was six, so a cousin took in my older brother and I. We were told to keep out of the way, most of the time.” The place he called home for a little over a decade was deep in the inner city, surrounded by gangs and violence. Memories of all the strange men and women, his cousin’s drug suppliers and dealers, Cassian would learn later in life, that would come and go in their tiny apartment filled his mind. He and his brother would be shoved into a backroom and told to keep quiet.
“The only place I enjoyed was school,” Cassian continued quietly, refusing to look at Jyn even though he could feel her gaze heavy on his face. “I was good at it, you know? Things made sense to me.
“But, I was small, couldn’t pack a very good punch, and the other kids knew it.” How many times had Cassian come home with a black eye or a bloody nose? “My brother would always fix me up, tell me it would be okay, that the other kids were just jealous. A few years later, he got caught in a gang fight. Ended up dead in the middle of the street about a block from home.”
Jyn gave no reaction, but her gaze slid away from his face. He wondered if he had gone too far with the story—he had only ever entrusted Kay with the story of his childhood before—and what her reaction would be. He wouldn’t blame her if she walked away now, deemed him too damaged to deal with, helpless beyond repair. She didn’t get up to leave, as Cassian half expected. She only gently probed further.
“Then how did you get here?”
“Hope.”
“Hope?” She echoed back, clear disbelief in her tone.
“My life’s been built on hope. And time management skills.”
She gave half a laugh, but obviously that explanation was not enough.
“One summer, some idiot from my neighborhood broke my nose and gave me this.” Cassian lifted his shirt to show a three-inch scar running across his abs. Memories of blood and pain broke through long standing barriers in Cassian’s mind. He fought against the onslaught of gruesome recollections, knowing they had the power to drown him. He fished, instead, for the shining beacon of hope that emerge from the wreckage of his childhood. “The doctor who stitched me up understood, said he came from a gang-infected area too. He told me I didn’t have to stay there, that if I worked hard I could get away and live the life I wanted.
“So I did what he said. I worked my ass off to get here.” Two jobs during the school year, three during the summer. Locking himself in his room for hours to study until he fell asleep on his textbooks. Avoiding others at school to prevent bloody noses and a police record. “The only other option was to rot in that hellhole like my cousin. Probably die bloody like my brother. My parents, my brother… they wanted better for me than that. I didn’t want to disappoint them. So I made something of myself.”
“Going to get your name on a Nobel Prize for medicine someday, Captain Andor?”
He shook his head. “I just want to help people.”
“Like that doctor helped you?”
He finally met Jyn’s gaze. “Exactly.”
She sighed and shifted closer to him on the couch. Silence overtook them for a few minutes. Jyn, with tentative fingers, reached out to rub a hand through Cassian’s hair. He relaxed into her touch, allowing her to comfort him in a way no one had ever offered before.
“You must have thought my story was so shallow. No wonder you hated me.”
“I didn’t hate you,” Cassian quickly disagreed, “Nor do I think you’re shallow.”
Their eyes met, both of them vulnerable and open in ways they weren’t accustomed to. Jyn’s hand shifted from his hair to his cheek and he leaned into it. He, in turn, reached forward to brush her hair away from her face as he’d been longing to do for so long. Slowly, he leaned forward to press his lips against hers. Like their last kiss on this couch, it was gentle, filled with emotion that made Cassian’s heart ache. They held each other close as their lips brushed over and over.
Cassian pushed her onto her back, his body hovering over her. He planted his arms on either side of her head, careful to keep his weight off her, until she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their hips met and Cassian groaned. His lips drifted from her lips, down to the column of her neck.
“Cassian,” Jyn breathed as he bit the skin lightly. Her hands roamed his back, reaching under his shirt. She traced around to his abs, reaching for the scar Cassian had showed her earlier. She mapped the skin there, memorizing the physical marks of his life story he had just shared. Looking back into her dark eyes, Cassian left a sense of intimacy he had been missing his whole life.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered.
She nodded, pulling his head back to hers for a kiss. After a moment, they shifted around, Cassian spooning behind her, his arms pulling her close to his chest. Their limbs tangled awkwardly in the transition before finally settling comfortably. Cassian reached for her hand, holding it tight.
“Good night, Captain.” The quiet words drifted along with Cassian as he fell asleep.
“Oh, good, she’s still here.”
Surprised by Kay’s booming voice, Cassian jumped up, nearly knocking Jyn off the couch in the process.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I startle you?”
Cassian glared at his roommate through tired eyes. Kay only sighed before throwing up his hands in surrender and walking into the kitchen. Jyn rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, yawning loudly.
“I either need another two hours of sleep or two cups of coffee,” she complained.
“There’s a great breakfast place about two blocks from here,” Cassian offered. “They serve an excellent cup of coffee.”
“Are you asking me on a date, Cassian Andor?”
He couldn’t resist returning the smile she gave him. “Only if you want it to be one, Jyn Erso.”
“I’ll grab my shoes then.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s about time you decided to buy me a meal. I’ve already brought you takeout twice.”
About halfway to the diner, Cassian’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out to reveal a text from Kay.
She’s going to be around a lot, isn’t she?
Yes, Cassian decided, beaming down at their intertwined hands, Jyn Erso was going to be around a lot.
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laurelkrugerr · 4 years
Text
How To Help Your Clients Get More Backlinks Through Design
About The Author
Suzanne Scacca is a former WordPress implementer, trainer and agency manager who now works as a freelance copywriter. She specializes in crafting marketing agency, web … More about Suzanne Scacca …
A website earns a backlink whenever another website links to it. But there’s a big difference between a backlink and a high-authority backlink. If an authoritative website links to yours, it can significantly boost your ranking in Google search. And this is why backlinks are so highly sought after in marketing agency… and why web designers should have this on their radar as they design websites for clients.
There are certain truths when it comes to what helps a website rank in search. Google wants to see:
Mobile-first design
Fast page speeds
Top-notch security
User-friendly navigation
Trustworthiness and expertise
… among other things. It also wants to see high-authority websites link back to your website.
And if your clients aren’t obsessed with getting backlinks right now, just wait and see. They’re highly coveted and some businesses will go to great lengths to get them.
Obviously, the quality of the content has to be there if it’s going to be share-worthy. However, the way a page looks can also make or break whether someone decides to share a link to it.
You might not think this is something you can help with as a web designer, but you definitely can. And this post will provide you with a number of tips on how to contribute to this great quest for backlinks.
How To Design Sites That High-Authority Sources Want To Link To
The quality of a backlinked page can reflect on the quality and reputation of the linking website, so authoritative sites have to be incredibly choosy about who they give backlinks to.
The content needs to be reputable and valuable. That’s non-negotiable. But the design has to be top-of-the-line, too.
Let’s take a look at some ways in which you can help your clients’ websites be seen as trustworthy sources worth linking to.
Tip #1: Visualize Data Whenever Possible
In my line of work, one of the most common reasons I link to other websites is to cite data that they discovered or own. I do this to strengthen my points as well as to lend credibility to the arguments I’m making.
That said, there usually isn’t just one organization doing research on the topics I’m interested in, which means I need to figure out which site is worth linking to. And that often comes down to how well they’ve visually depicted the data.
To be clear, I’m not just referring to statistical data. This also pertains to things like breakdowns of processes. Like if I’m researching how various companies handle a given task and a website has a great visual depiction of their workflow, I may be more inclined to link to that page since it’s more valuable.
Let me show you an example.
Let’s say I’m writing an article about why people uninstall mobile apps. I don’t just want to cite a random list of what I think are the reasons for something like this. I know that the evidence exists, so I go searching for sources that can back me up.
In my research on the subject, I find two credible sources that present similar sets of findings. This article appeared on Forbes:
A Forbes article explains ‘Why People Uninstall Apps’. (Source: Forbes) (Large preview)
And this blog post and infographic was published by CleverTap:
A CleverTap article and infographic explain ‘Why Users Uninstall App’. (Hint: It’s because 28% feel spammed.) (Source: CleverTap) (Large preview)
Let’s say that the two surveys both have a large pool of respondents and the research was done recently. In that case, I’d turn my attention to the way in which the findings are presented.
There are a number of reasons why I’d choose CleverTap over Forbes any day.
For one, CleverTap translated its findings into a user-friendly format. We’ve known for years that infographics get more engagement and shares than plain text content. Sharing and linking are two different kinds of engagement, but we usually do them for the same reason:
We trust the source or find some value in the content and want others to discover it as well.
So, because CleverTap presented this beautiful breakdown of its findings, it’s enabled me to more quickly and effectively identify the facts I’m looking for, more so than the run-on paragraphs on the Forbes site. With Forbes’ presentation of the data, I’d basically have to copy-and-paste the content into my own document and do some formatting of my own to try and figure out what’s going on.
No one should have to work for their data, just like no one should have to work to get through a website.
So, that’s reason number one. CleverTap shows extra care and consideration for the data that’s being presented as well as an understanding of the audience who needs to read it.
Reason number two is that Forbes’s page is littered with ads. When one disappears, another two appear in its place. It’s distracting and I don’t believe in sending people to a website that so blatantly prioritizes its profits over its content. Again, linked-to websites can have an impact on the linking website’s reputation, so this is something to consider when you design your own.
The last reason I’d link to CleverTap’s page over Forbes’ is because visually designed data saves me the trouble of having to create graphics on my own. It’s not like I can’t cite the data as is, but why should I? I know that it’s easier for my readers to find key data points and understand them when I call them out visually.
Plus, I’m already giving the linked website credit for their work, so I am more than happy to provide a companion branded image. It lends even more credibility to my source.
Tip #2: Make Lengthy Pages Easier To Scan
I have clients who constantly come to me and say, “I need you to write a 2,000-word article so I can rank #1 on Google.”
This is one of those SEO Company myths that’s part fact and part fiction. Here’s why:
Google’s John Mueller is often asked on Twitter to confirm various assumptions we have about SEO Company (since Google itself is so tight-lipped about it). And that’s when we get useful gems like this:
John Mueller (@JohnMu) responds to a question on Twitter about how word count correlates with page rank. (Source: John Mueller on Twitter) (Large preview)
That’s what I tell my clients, but without the snark obviously. It’s not about hitting a target number of words that will magically make a web page rank. All you need to do is match the search intent and then unpack the topic as fully as needed.
That said, there is data from Backlinko that confirms that longer pages do rank higher in search…
Backlinko shows the correlation between number of words on a web page and how many backlinks it gets. (Source: Backlinko) (Large preview)
But it’s not the sheer volume of words that lends to a lengthy web page’s rank. It’s because longer content tends to be more authoritative which makes it more link-worthy.
Interesting, right?
So, knowing this, you should do everything in your power to make a lengthy piece of content (any linkable page, really — including informational pages and the home page) super easy to scan, read and link to. Because even the most engaged reader is apt to miss important details or give up part of the way through if you don’t design the page the right way.
For the purposes of this example, I’m going to show you two examples of long blog posts that are top-ranked for “how to price a saas product”.
ProfitWell handles it well enough and has 93 external followed links to show for it, according to MozBar. These are backlinks that pass SEO Company value onto Google, which is how a website ranks higher thanks to its backlink profile.
All I probably need to do is show you what the above-the-fold looks like to demonstrate why this article hasn’t been linked to nearly as much as one of its competitors. Here it is:
ProfitWell unpacks ‘SaaS pricing models, strategies and examples of success’. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In terms of overall design, ProfitWell has a great website. It’s even done a fantastic job laying out the post so it’s easy to scan through and read.
The ProfitWell blog post is designed to make reading and scanning easy. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In just this screenshot alone you can see how effectively the designer has worked their magic on the page, including text enhancements like:
Header tags,
Bolded and highlighted hyperlinks,
Data visualizations,
Short sentence and paragraph structures,
Bulleted and numbered lists.
However, it has a number of things working against it, which is what I believe has cost it backlinks.
One is the overwhelming amount of distractions: the cumbersome sidebar, the sticky social share bar, the chat widget that needs to be dismissed and a lead gen pop-up that adheres to the bottom-left corner at times. Secondly, this is a long article. If people want to read it in full — especially on mobile — it’s going to take a lot of scrolling to get all the way through it.
Now let me show you how Cobloom’s page design is likely why it has 159 external followed links.
Cobloom’s ‘ultimate guide to SaaS pricing models, strategies & psychological hacks’. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
This looks fantastic, right? There are three sticky elements always present:
The sticky table of contents on the left,
The chat widget which is part of the ToC bar,
The social share widget.
But the sticky parts of the page never compromise the content:
Cobloom’s blog post design and sticky elements make it easy for readers to digest the content. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
In fact, the table of contents on the left makes the page easier to read (among other design choices that have been made). Readers can click on the section that they’re interested in without having to bother with scrolling down the page.
The only thing I’d say this page falls short on is the mobile experience. The table of contents isn’t present and the page feels a little wobbly, as if the horizontal dimensions weren’t properly sized. So, in terms of this being a link-worthy page on mobile, I’d say it’s not when compared to ProfitWell’s super mobile-friendly post.
But that’s a good lesson for you to take away from this. Use your sticky elements on mobile wisely. Rather than disrupt a post with a chat widget or a lead gen promotional bar, place the table of contents beneath it and let it serve as a secondary “navigation” for lengthier pages.
Tip #3: “Design” Each Page’s Metadata
As a writer, I spend a lot of time looking for the right links to place within my content. Which means a good chunk of my day is spent on Google, social media and Feedly trying to hunt down the perfect sources.
Can you guess how I narrow down my options to ensure that I always share or link to the best content for my website visitors or social connections? I use the page’s metadata to help me decide.
I’m not the only one who cares about the external “image” of a web page either. There’s plenty of research that points to attractive social media content getting more shares than those that aren’t.
So, in addition to designing pages to look more trustworthy and user-friendly, I’d suggest designing your metadata to make it look more carefully groomed. If you’ve taken the time to create a buttoned-up micro-image of the page, people looking for sources for their authoritative websites are more likely to give yours a closer look.
As such, there are a couple things I’d recommend you do to increase the likelihood that this happens:
The first thing is to ensure that the page’s metadata appears complete in search.
For instance, here’s what comes up when I search Google for “the most trusted brands in the world”:
A Google search for ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
For the most part, the meta titles are all fine as you can see them in full or, at the very least, get the gist of what the page is about and how it answers the search’s intent.
The descriptions aren’t that great, though, as some are nonsensical and some are incomplete. Both qualities demonstrate that the people behind the site didn’t care enough to write a helpful description for it. Authoritative figures are going to care about stuff like this.
One reason why is because it makes it harder for them to figure out which sites to look deeper into. It’s a pain having to review every top-ranking page because no details are provided to help weed out the so-so from the great. Also, if metadata isn’t filled in, the page might not look all that great when shared on social media, again requiring the sharer to do more work and clean it up.
Let me show you an example:
This is what MozBar reports to me from the Morning Consult page that ranks #2 for this search query:
MozBar reveals how the metadata was prepared for this page on the Morning Consult website. (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
The page title includes a bunch of icons that thankfully don’t appear in search results. The meta description, however, doesn’t exist. This is why when Google tried to retrieve a description about the page, it created this mess from the report’s findings:
“USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. 36.5% Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% Ziploc. 33.8% Clorox. USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% …”
That might be enough to keep someone from clicking into the site, believing that if the metadata is this messy, the page is too.
As for the shareability piece, the lack of metadata causes issues, too. Here’s what this page looks like on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter (in that order):
Three views of the Morning Consult report when shared on Facebook (top-left), LinkedIn (top-right) and Twitter (bottom-left). (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
Two of the shares pull in the brand logo and tagline, but not the featured image of the page. Two of the shares show no description at all while the other shows a snippet of the first sentence on the page.
Again, this lack of attention to detail ends up creating more work for the sharer, which might be reason enough for them not to share it. Or not to share anything from that website again.
One last thing you can do to make your pages look more link-worthy in search is to use schema markup. The #1 page (from Infegy) for “the most trusted brands in the world” did a good job of this (in addition to writing their metadata). The results look great:
A Google featured snippet result for the query ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
If I needed this data for an article I was writing today, I’d probably end up focusing most of my efforts on this piece since it’s clear that the page and its metadata were so carefully built by its creators.
To recap: There are three things you should pay attention to when setting up link-worthy pages of your site for search:
Include complete SEO Company metadata.
Attach a featured image to the page that’s relevant and descriptive.
Use schema markup whenever possible.
Wrapping Up
You might not be too concerned with backlinks, but the owners of your websites certainly are or will be once they catch wind of the power they wield in Google. While a lot of the linkability of a page does depend on the quality of the content, certain design choices you make can affect it as well. So, add these strategies to your SEO Company-friendly design processes and help your clients claim those highly coveted top-ranking spots.
(ra, yk, il)
Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co
Delray Beach SEO
source http://www.scpie.org/how-to-help-your-clients-get-more-backlinks-through-design/ source https://scpie1.blogspot.com/2020/08/how-to-help-your-clients-get-more.html
0 notes
riichardwilson · 4 years
Text
How To Help Your Clients Get More Backlinks Through Design
About The Author
Suzanne Scacca is a former WordPress implementer, trainer and agency manager who now works as a freelance copywriter. She specializes in crafting marketing agency, web … More about Suzanne Scacca …
A website earns a backlink whenever another website links to it. But there’s a big difference between a backlink and a high-authority backlink. If an authoritative website links to yours, it can significantly boost your ranking in Google search. And this is why backlinks are so highly sought after in marketing agency… and why web designers should have this on their radar as they design websites for clients.
There are certain truths when it comes to what helps a website rank in search. Google wants to see:
Mobile-first design
Fast page speeds
Top-notch security
User-friendly navigation
Trustworthiness and expertise
… among other things. It also wants to see high-authority websites link back to your website.
And if your clients aren’t obsessed with getting backlinks right now, just wait and see. They’re highly coveted and some businesses will go to great lengths to get them.
Obviously, the quality of the content has to be there if it’s going to be share-worthy. However, the way a page looks can also make or break whether someone decides to share a link to it.
You might not think this is something you can help with as a web designer, but you definitely can. And this post will provide you with a number of tips on how to contribute to this great quest for backlinks.
How To Design Sites That High-Authority Sources Want To Link To
The quality of a backlinked page can reflect on the quality and reputation of the linking website, so authoritative sites have to be incredibly choosy about who they give backlinks to.
The content needs to be reputable and valuable. That’s non-negotiable. But the design has to be top-of-the-line, too.
Let’s take a look at some ways in which you can help your clients’ websites be seen as trustworthy sources worth linking to.
Tip #1: Visualize Data Whenever Possible
In my line of work, one of the most common reasons I link to other websites is to cite data that they discovered or own. I do this to strengthen my points as well as to lend credibility to the arguments I’m making.
That said, there usually isn’t just one organization doing research on the topics I’m interested in, which means I need to figure out which site is worth linking to. And that often comes down to how well they’ve visually depicted the data.
To be clear, I’m not just referring to statistical data. This also pertains to things like breakdowns of processes. Like if I’m researching how various companies handle a given task and a website has a great visual depiction of their workflow, I may be more inclined to link to that page since it’s more valuable.
Let me show you an example.
Let’s say I’m writing an article about why people uninstall mobile apps. I don’t just want to cite a random list of what I think are the reasons for something like this. I know that the evidence exists, so I go searching for sources that can back me up.
In my research on the subject, I find two credible sources that present similar sets of findings. This article appeared on Forbes:
A Forbes article explains ‘Why People Uninstall Apps’. (Source: Forbes) (Large preview)
And this blog post and infographic was published by CleverTap:
A CleverTap article and infographic explain ‘Why Users Uninstall App’. (Hint: It’s because 28% feel spammed.) (Source: CleverTap) (Large preview)
Let’s say that the two surveys both have a large pool of respondents and the research was done recently. In that case, I’d turn my attention to the way in which the findings are presented.
There are a number of reasons why I’d choose CleverTap over Forbes any day.
For one, CleverTap translated its findings into a user-friendly format. We’ve known for years that infographics get more engagement and shares than plain text content. Sharing and linking are two different kinds of engagement, but we usually do them for the same reason:
We trust the source or find some value in the content and want others to discover it as well.
So, because CleverTap presented this beautiful breakdown of its findings, it’s enabled me to more quickly and effectively identify the facts I’m looking for, more so than the run-on paragraphs on the Forbes site. With Forbes’ presentation of the data, I’d basically have to copy-and-paste the content into my own document and do some formatting of my own to try and figure out what’s going on.
No one should have to work for their data, just like no one should have to work to get through a website.
So, that’s reason number one. CleverTap shows extra care and consideration for the data that’s being presented as well as an understanding of the audience who needs to read it.
Reason number two is that Forbes’s page is littered with ads. When one disappears, another two appear in its place. It’s distracting and I don’t believe in sending people to a website that so blatantly prioritizes its profits over its content. Again, linked-to websites can have an impact on the linking website’s reputation, so this is something to consider when you design your own.
The last reason I’d link to CleverTap’s page over Forbes’ is because visually designed data saves me the trouble of having to create graphics on my own. It’s not like I can’t cite the data as is, but why should I? I know that it’s easier for my readers to find key data points and understand them when I call them out visually.
Plus, I’m already giving the linked website credit for their work, so I am more than happy to provide a companion branded image. It lends even more credibility to my source.
Tip #2: Make Lengthy Pages Easier To Scan
I have clients who constantly come to me and say, “I need you to write a 2,000-word article so I can rank #1 on Google.”
This is one of those SEO Company myths that’s part fact and part fiction. Here’s why:
Google’s John Mueller is often asked on Twitter to confirm various assumptions we have about SEO Company (since Google itself is so tight-lipped about it). And that’s when we get useful gems like this:
John Mueller (@JohnMu) responds to a question on Twitter about how word count correlates with page rank. (Source: John Mueller on Twitter) (Large preview)
That’s what I tell my clients, but without the snark obviously. It’s not about hitting a target number of words that will magically make a web page rank. All you need to do is match the search intent and then unpack the topic as fully as needed.
That said, there is data from Backlinko that confirms that longer pages do rank higher in search…
Backlinko shows the correlation between number of words on a web page and how many backlinks it gets. (Source: Backlinko) (Large preview)
But it’s not the sheer volume of words that lends to a lengthy web page’s rank. It’s because longer content tends to be more authoritative which makes it more link-worthy.
Interesting, right?
So, knowing this, you should do everything in your power to make a lengthy piece of content (any linkable page, really — including informational pages and the home page) super easy to scan, read and link to. Because even the most engaged reader is apt to miss important details or give up part of the way through if you don’t design the page the right way.
For the purposes of this example, I’m going to show you two examples of long blog posts that are top-ranked for “how to price a saas product”.
ProfitWell handles it well enough and has 93 external followed links to show for it, according to MozBar. These are backlinks that pass SEO Company value onto Google, which is how a website ranks higher thanks to its backlink profile.
All I probably need to do is show you what the above-the-fold looks like to demonstrate why this article hasn’t been linked to nearly as much as one of its competitors. Here it is:
ProfitWell unpacks ‘SaaS pricing models, strategies and examples of success’. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In terms of overall design, ProfitWell has a great website. It’s even done a fantastic job laying out the post so it’s easy to scan through and read.
The ProfitWell blog post is designed to make reading and scanning easy. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In just this screenshot alone you can see how effectively the designer has worked their magic on the page, including text enhancements like:
Header tags,
Bolded and highlighted hyperlinks,
Data visualizations,
Short sentence and paragraph structures,
Bulleted and numbered lists.
However, it has a number of things working against it, which is what I believe has cost it backlinks.
One is the overwhelming amount of distractions: the cumbersome sidebar, the sticky social share bar, the chat widget that needs to be dismissed and a lead gen pop-up that adheres to the bottom-left corner at times. Secondly, this is a long article. If people want to read it in full — especially on mobile — it’s going to take a lot of scrolling to get all the way through it.
Now let me show you how Cobloom’s page design is likely why it has 159 external followed links.
Cobloom’s ‘ultimate guide to SaaS pricing models, strategies & psychological hacks’. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
This looks fantastic, right? There are three sticky elements always present:
The sticky table of contents on the left,
The chat widget which is part of the ToC bar,
The social share widget.
But the sticky parts of the page never compromise the content:
Cobloom’s blog post design and sticky elements make it easy for readers to digest the content. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
In fact, the table of contents on the left makes the page easier to read (among other design choices that have been made). Readers can click on the section that they’re interested in without having to bother with scrolling down the page.
The only thing I’d say this page falls short on is the mobile experience. The table of contents isn’t present and the page feels a little wobbly, as if the horizontal dimensions weren’t properly sized. So, in terms of this being a link-worthy page on mobile, I’d say it’s not when compared to ProfitWell’s super mobile-friendly post.
But that’s a good lesson for you to take away from this. Use your sticky elements on mobile wisely. Rather than disrupt a post with a chat widget or a lead gen promotional bar, place the table of contents beneath it and let it serve as a secondary “navigation” for lengthier pages.
Tip #3: “Design” Each Page’s Metadata
As a writer, I spend a lot of time looking for the right links to place within my content. Which means a good chunk of my day is spent on Google, social media and Feedly trying to hunt down the perfect sources.
Can you guess how I narrow down my options to ensure that I always share or link to the best content for my website visitors or social connections? I use the page’s metadata to help me decide.
I’m not the only one who cares about the external “image” of a web page either. There’s plenty of research that points to attractive social media content getting more shares than those that aren’t.
So, in addition to designing pages to look more trustworthy and user-friendly, I’d suggest designing your metadata to make it look more carefully groomed. If you’ve taken the time to create a buttoned-up micro-image of the page, people looking for sources for their authoritative websites are more likely to give yours a closer look.
As such, there are a couple things I’d recommend you do to increase the likelihood that this happens:
The first thing is to ensure that the page’s metadata appears complete in search.
For instance, here’s what comes up when I search Google for “the most trusted brands in the world”:
A Google search for ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
For the most part, the meta titles are all fine as you can see them in full or, at the very least, get the gist of what the page is about and how it answers the search’s intent.
The descriptions aren’t that great, though, as some are nonsensical and some are incomplete. Both qualities demonstrate that the people behind the site didn’t care enough to write a helpful description for it. Authoritative figures are going to care about stuff like this.
One reason why is because it makes it harder for them to figure out which sites to look deeper into. It’s a pain having to review every top-ranking page because no details are provided to help weed out the so-so from the great. Also, if metadata isn’t filled in, the page might not look all that great when shared on social media, again requiring the sharer to do more work and clean it up.
Let me show you an example:
This is what MozBar reports to me from the Morning Consult page that ranks #2 for this search query:
MozBar reveals how the metadata was prepared for this page on the Morning Consult website. (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
The page title includes a bunch of icons that thankfully don’t appear in search results. The meta description, however, doesn’t exist. This is why when Google tried to retrieve a description about the page, it created this mess from the report’s findings:
“USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. 36.5% Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% Ziploc. 33.8% Clorox. USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% …”
That might be enough to keep someone from clicking into the site, believing that if the metadata is this messy, the page is too.
As for the shareability piece, the lack of metadata causes issues, too. Here’s what this page looks like on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter (in that order):
Three views of the Morning Consult report when shared on Facebook (top-left), LinkedIn (top-right) and Twitter (bottom-left). (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
Two of the shares pull in the brand logo and tagline, but not the featured image of the page. Two of the shares show no description at all while the other shows a snippet of the first sentence on the page.
Again, this lack of attention to detail ends up creating more work for the sharer, which might be reason enough for them not to share it. Or not to share anything from that website again.
One last thing you can do to make your pages look more link-worthy in search is to use schema markup. The #1 page (from Infegy) for “the most trusted brands in the world” did a good job of this (in addition to writing their metadata). The results look great:
A Google featured snippet result for the query ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
If I needed this data for an article I was writing today, I’d probably end up focusing most of my efforts on this piece since it’s clear that the page and its metadata were so carefully built by its creators.
To recap: There are three things you should pay attention to when setting up link-worthy pages of your site for search:
Include complete SEO Company metadata.
Attach a featured image to the page that’s relevant and descriptive.
Use schema markup whenever possible.
Wrapping Up
You might not be too concerned with backlinks, but the owners of your websites certainly are or will be once they catch wind of the power they wield in Google. While a lot of the linkability of a page does depend on the quality of the content, certain design choices you make can affect it as well. So, add these strategies to your SEO Company-friendly design processes and help your clients claim those highly coveted top-ranking spots.
(ra, yk, il)
Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co
Delray Beach SEO
source http://www.scpie.org/how-to-help-your-clients-get-more-backlinks-through-design/ source https://scpie.tumblr.com/post/627095256703401984
0 notes
scpie · 4 years
Text
How To Help Your Clients Get More Backlinks Through Design
About The Author
Suzanne Scacca is a former WordPress implementer, trainer and agency manager who now works as a freelance copywriter. She specializes in crafting marketing agency, web … More about Suzanne Scacca …
A website earns a backlink whenever another website links to it. But there’s a big difference between a backlink and a high-authority backlink. If an authoritative website links to yours, it can significantly boost your ranking in Google search. And this is why backlinks are so highly sought after in marketing agency… and why web designers should have this on their radar as they design websites for clients.
There are certain truths when it comes to what helps a website rank in search. Google wants to see:
Mobile-first design
Fast page speeds
Top-notch security
User-friendly navigation
Trustworthiness and expertise
… among other things. It also wants to see high-authority websites link back to your website.
And if your clients aren’t obsessed with getting backlinks right now, just wait and see. They’re highly coveted and some businesses will go to great lengths to get them.
Obviously, the quality of the content has to be there if it’s going to be share-worthy. However, the way a page looks can also make or break whether someone decides to share a link to it.
You might not think this is something you can help with as a web designer, but you definitely can. And this post will provide you with a number of tips on how to contribute to this great quest for backlinks.
How To Design Sites That High-Authority Sources Want To Link To
The quality of a backlinked page can reflect on the quality and reputation of the linking website, so authoritative sites have to be incredibly choosy about who they give backlinks to.
The content needs to be reputable and valuable. That’s non-negotiable. But the design has to be top-of-the-line, too.
Let’s take a look at some ways in which you can help your clients’ websites be seen as trustworthy sources worth linking to.
Tip #1: Visualize Data Whenever Possible
In my line of work, one of the most common reasons I link to other websites is to cite data that they discovered or own. I do this to strengthen my points as well as to lend credibility to the arguments I’m making.
That said, there usually isn’t just one organization doing research on the topics I’m interested in, which means I need to figure out which site is worth linking to. And that often comes down to how well they’ve visually depicted the data.
To be clear, I’m not just referring to statistical data. This also pertains to things like breakdowns of processes. Like if I’m researching how various companies handle a given task and a website has a great visual depiction of their workflow, I may be more inclined to link to that page since it’s more valuable.
Let me show you an example.
Let’s say I’m writing an article about why people uninstall mobile apps. I don’t just want to cite a random list of what I think are the reasons for something like this. I know that the evidence exists, so I go searching for sources that can back me up.
In my research on the subject, I find two credible sources that present similar sets of findings. This article appeared on Forbes:
A Forbes article explains ‘Why People Uninstall Apps’. (Source: Forbes) (Large preview)
And this blog post and infographic was published by CleverTap:
A CleverTap article and infographic explain ‘Why Users Uninstall App’. (Hint: It’s because 28% feel spammed.) (Source: CleverTap) (Large preview)
Let’s say that the two surveys both have a large pool of respondents and the research was done recently. In that case, I’d turn my attention to the way in which the findings are presented.
There are a number of reasons why I’d choose CleverTap over Forbes any day.
For one, CleverTap translated its findings into a user-friendly format. We’ve known for years that infographics get more engagement and shares than plain text content. Sharing and linking are two different kinds of engagement, but we usually do them for the same reason:
We trust the source or find some value in the content and want others to discover it as well.
So, because CleverTap presented this beautiful breakdown of its findings, it’s enabled me to more quickly and effectively identify the facts I’m looking for, more so than the run-on paragraphs on the Forbes site. With Forbes’ presentation of the data, I’d basically have to copy-and-paste the content into my own document and do some formatting of my own to try and figure out what’s going on.
No one should have to work for their data, just like no one should have to work to get through a website.
So, that’s reason number one. CleverTap shows extra care and consideration for the data that’s being presented as well as an understanding of the audience who needs to read it.
Reason number two is that Forbes’s page is littered with ads. When one disappears, another two appear in its place. It’s distracting and I don’t believe in sending people to a website that so blatantly prioritizes its profits over its content. Again, linked-to websites can have an impact on the linking website’s reputation, so this is something to consider when you design your own.
The last reason I’d link to CleverTap’s page over Forbes’ is because visually designed data saves me the trouble of having to create graphics on my own. It’s not like I can’t cite the data as is, but why should I? I know that it’s easier for my readers to find key data points and understand them when I call them out visually.
Plus, I’m already giving the linked website credit for their work, so I am more than happy to provide a companion branded image. It lends even more credibility to my source.
Tip #2: Make Lengthy Pages Easier To Scan
I have clients who constantly come to me and say, “I need you to write a 2,000-word article so I can rank #1 on Google.”
This is one of those SEO Company myths that’s part fact and part fiction. Here’s why:
Google’s John Mueller is often asked on Twitter to confirm various assumptions we have about SEO Company (since Google itself is so tight-lipped about it). And that’s when we get useful gems like this:
John Mueller (@JohnMu) responds to a question on Twitter about how word count correlates with page rank. (Source: John Mueller on Twitter) (Large preview)
That’s what I tell my clients, but without the snark obviously. It’s not about hitting a target number of words that will magically make a web page rank. All you need to do is match the search intent and then unpack the topic as fully as needed.
That said, there is data from Backlinko that confirms that longer pages do rank higher in search…
Backlinko shows the correlation between number of words on a web page and how many backlinks it gets. (Source: Backlinko) (Large preview)
But it’s not the sheer volume of words that lends to a lengthy web page’s rank. It’s because longer content tends to be more authoritative which makes it more link-worthy.
Interesting, right?
So, knowing this, you should do everything in your power to make a lengthy piece of content (any linkable page, really — including informational pages and the home page) super easy to scan, read and link to. Because even the most engaged reader is apt to miss important details or give up part of the way through if you don’t design the page the right way.
For the purposes of this example, I’m going to show you two examples of long blog posts that are top-ranked for “how to price a saas product”.
ProfitWell handles it well enough and has 93 external followed links to show for it, according to MozBar. These are backlinks that pass SEO Company value onto Google, which is how a website ranks higher thanks to its backlink profile.
All I probably need to do is show you what the above-the-fold looks like to demonstrate why this article hasn’t been linked to nearly as much as one of its competitors. Here it is:
ProfitWell unpacks ‘SaaS pricing models, strategies and examples of success’. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In terms of overall design, ProfitWell has a great website. It’s even done a fantastic job laying out the post so it’s easy to scan through and read.
The ProfitWell blog post is designed to make reading and scanning easy. (Source: ProfitWell) (Large preview)
In just this screenshot alone you can see how effectively the designer has worked their magic on the page, including text enhancements like:
Header tags,
Bolded and highlighted hyperlinks,
Data visualizations,
Short sentence and paragraph structures,
Bulleted and numbered lists.
However, it has a number of things working against it, which is what I believe has cost it backlinks.
One is the overwhelming amount of distractions: the cumbersome sidebar, the sticky social share bar, the chat widget that needs to be dismissed and a lead gen pop-up that adheres to the bottom-left corner at times. Secondly, this is a long article. If people want to read it in full — especially on mobile — it’s going to take a lot of scrolling to get all the way through it.
Now let me show you how Cobloom’s page design is likely why it has 159 external followed links.
Cobloom’s ‘ultimate guide to SaaS pricing models, strategies & psychological hacks’. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
This looks fantastic, right? There are three sticky elements always present:
The sticky table of contents on the left,
The chat widget which is part of the ToC bar,
The social share widget.
But the sticky parts of the page never compromise the content:
Cobloom’s blog post design and sticky elements make it easy for readers to digest the content. (Source: Cobloom) (Large preview)
In fact, the table of contents on the left makes the page easier to read (among other design choices that have been made). Readers can click on the section that they’re interested in without having to bother with scrolling down the page.
The only thing I’d say this page falls short on is the mobile experience. The table of contents isn’t present and the page feels a little wobbly, as if the horizontal dimensions weren’t properly sized. So, in terms of this being a link-worthy page on mobile, I’d say it’s not when compared to ProfitWell’s super mobile-friendly post.
But that’s a good lesson for you to take away from this. Use your sticky elements on mobile wisely. Rather than disrupt a post with a chat widget or a lead gen promotional bar, place the table of contents beneath it and let it serve as a secondary “navigation” for lengthier pages.
Tip #3: “Design” Each Page’s Metadata
As a writer, I spend a lot of time looking for the right links to place within my content. Which means a good chunk of my day is spent on Google, social media and Feedly trying to hunt down the perfect sources.
Can you guess how I narrow down my options to ensure that I always share or link to the best content for my website visitors or social connections? I use the page’s metadata to help me decide.
I’m not the only one who cares about the external “image” of a web page either. There’s plenty of research that points to attractive social media content getting more shares than those that aren’t.
So, in addition to designing pages to look more trustworthy and user-friendly, I’d suggest designing your metadata to make it look more carefully groomed. If you’ve taken the time to create a buttoned-up micro-image of the page, people looking for sources for their authoritative websites are more likely to give yours a closer look.
As such, there are a couple things I’d recommend you do to increase the likelihood that this happens:
The first thing is to ensure that the page’s metadata appears complete in search.
For instance, here’s what comes up when I search Google for “the most trusted brands in the world”:
A Google search for ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
For the most part, the meta titles are all fine as you can see them in full or, at the very least, get the gist of what the page is about and how it answers the search’s intent.
The descriptions aren’t that great, though, as some are nonsensical and some are incomplete. Both qualities demonstrate that the people behind the site didn’t care enough to write a helpful description for it. Authoritative figures are going to care about stuff like this.
One reason why is because it makes it harder for them to figure out which sites to look deeper into. It’s a pain having to review every top-ranking page because no details are provided to help weed out the so-so from the great. Also, if metadata isn’t filled in, the page might not look all that great when shared on social media, again requiring the sharer to do more work and clean it up.
Let me show you an example:
This is what MozBar reports to me from the Morning Consult page that ranks #2 for this search query:
MozBar reveals how the metadata was prepared for this page on the Morning Consult website. (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
The page title includes a bunch of icons that thankfully don’t appear in search results. The meta description, however, doesn’t exist. This is why when Google tried to retrieve a description about the page, it created this mess from the report’s findings:
“USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. 36.5% Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% Ziploc. 33.8% Clorox. USPS. Score: 42.0% Amazon. 38.8% Google. 37.9% PayPal. Chick-Fil-A. 36.2% The Hershey Company. 36.1% UPS. 36.1% Cheerios. Dove. 34.1% Tide. 34.1% …”
That might be enough to keep someone from clicking into the site, believing that if the metadata is this messy, the page is too.
As for the shareability piece, the lack of metadata causes issues, too. Here’s what this page looks like on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter (in that order):
Three views of the Morning Consult report when shared on Facebook (top-left), LinkedIn (top-right) and Twitter (bottom-left). (Source: Morning Consult) (Large preview)
Two of the shares pull in the brand logo and tagline, but not the featured image of the page. Two of the shares show no description at all while the other shows a snippet of the first sentence on the page.
Again, this lack of attention to detail ends up creating more work for the sharer, which might be reason enough for them not to share it. Or not to share anything from that website again.
One last thing you can do to make your pages look more link-worthy in search is to use schema markup. The #1 page (from Infegy) for “the most trusted brands in the world” did a good job of this (in addition to writing their metadata). The results look great:
A Google featured snippet result for the query ‘the most trusted brands in the world’. (Source: Google) (Large preview)
If I needed this data for an article I was writing today, I’d probably end up focusing most of my efforts on this piece since it’s clear that the page and its metadata were so carefully built by its creators.
To recap: There are three things you should pay attention to when setting up link-worthy pages of your site for search:
Include complete SEO Company metadata.
Attach a featured image to the page that’s relevant and descriptive.
Use schema markup whenever possible.
Wrapping Up
You might not be too concerned with backlinks, but the owners of your websites certainly are or will be once they catch wind of the power they wield in Google. While a lot of the linkability of a page does depend on the quality of the content, certain design choices you make can affect it as well. So, add these strategies to your SEO Company-friendly design processes and help your clients claim those highly coveted top-ranking spots.
(ra, yk, il)
Website Design & SEO Delray Beach by DBL07.co
Delray Beach SEO
source http://www.scpie.org/how-to-help-your-clients-get-more-backlinks-through-design/
0 notes
lucasjrobak · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Lies Printed by Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner http://www.lucasrobak.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/Maggie-Mongan-with-Brilliant-Breakthroughs-for-the-Small-Business-Owner-is-a-Full-Blown-Liar-with-Zero-Integrity.png
Correcting the lies Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner printed in her book!
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner purposefully published numerous lies in her book to spite me after helping her for over eight months–for free!!
After a great deal of people approached me about the legitimacy of her book, why I wasn’t in it, why she didn’t give me any credit, and asked about my health out of no where; this needed to be written to finally set the record straight.
In November 2017 Maggie Mongan from Brilliant Breakthroughs, Inc. released her first collaborative book entitled, Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner: Fresh Perspectives on Profitability, People, Productivity, and Finding Peace in Your Business — a book I thankfully dropped out of and cut my losses after hundreds of hours of coaching her!
If you want to share this article about Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner, refer them to these short links to make it easy for you to move the conversation forward:
bitly.com/MaggieLies
tiny url.com/MaggieLies
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner is a liar. If she printed these lies in a book, what kind of person do you think she truly is?
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner and Brilliant Breakthroughs, Inc. is a Liar with Zero Integrity & Self-Respect!
Contents of Article
Lie #1 = She Didn’t Make Her Cover, I Made Her Cover
Lie #2 = I’m Not Her Co-Author but She Printed Me As One
Lie #3 = She Credited Someone Else Even Though  I Trained the on Becoming a Bestseller
Lie #4 = I Never Gave Her the Idea, She Stole it From WisOwners
Lie #5 = I Dropped HER, I Was Never Sick
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner Lie #1 = I Made Her Cover
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner lied that she created and designed her cover.
Below is a screen shot of a file on my computer dated four months before her book launch. Her book came out November 2017 and I made her cover on July 20th, 2017.
Undeniable Proof I Created Her Cover
The email below, dated on April 25th, 2017, is her asking me to check out a contract from someone she bartered with to make the cover.
Evidence I’m Helping Her in April 2017
For someone who gave herself credit for making her cover, why on earth would she send me this email on August 19, 2017? The email below is her response after she downloaded her cover from my Google Drive folder.
Proof She Received Her Cover From Me
I’m not sure how much more proof you need that Maggie Mongan lied about making her cover.
If this was a court of law, once you prove someone to be a liar, everything they say is now questionable. You be the jury on that! Is anything what Maggie Mongan printed in her book reliable?
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner Lie #2 = I’m Not a Co-Author
Too Lazy to Crop Me Out
If you opened the book, you’d see my name and picture in it. All it would take is three minutes of her time using one free online tool to crop me out of the picture.
I timed myself, it took me exactly 73 seconds to do this for free with one basic online tool and a slow computer! It would’ve added another minute, maybe two, if I replaced me with her other co-author who couldn’t make the picture.
73-Seconds Later I’m NOT her Co-Author
The picture with me was printed in the book and shows me as one of her co-authors – without my permission. Why use an image of someone you don’t respect and put it in your book even though me being in that image is a lie?
People are contacting me asking me why I’m in this “co-author” picture when I’m not a co-author. This image completely discredited the whole book for a lot of people that I spoke with. Furthermore, they’re baffled by all the other lies she printed after I tell them.
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner Lie #3 = I Trained Them on Bestselling Tactics
She gave another woman credit for making her book a #1 amazon free kindle download for a few hours. As a big, “F-You” to me, she wrote, “Perhaps most importantly, I’m forever grateful to [xyz] who appeared with a proven map to guide our actions and secure best-seller status.”
In the video under the image below you’ll discover that what she said about me in the video is what she printed about someone else in the book.
To start, let’s verify this weekend actually happened. The image below is Maggie Mongan herself presenting at the Bestselling Weekend Training I organized and hosted in August 2017.
Maggie Presenting at the Bestselling Weekend Training
Below you’ll see her and six of her co-authors giving their testimonial of a weekend where I trained them all on how to become a bestseller. 
The video is of Maggie Mongan and her co-authors praising and endorsing me after teaching them how to make their book a “bestseller”; they achieved #1 amazon free kindle download for a few hours. Why it wasn’t at least a $0.99 kindle to ethically call it a BestSELLER is far beyond my comprehension.
Note everything that she says about me and the event I organized! Maggie Mongan is the first person in the video and appears multiple times throughout it as well.
If the video doesn’t appear below, either “Refresh” the page or watch it on YouTube.
youtube
For even more proof that this weekend happened and Maggie Mongan with her co-authors attended, take a look at all the name badges I created for the event!
Name Badges from Event to Train on Bestselling Tactics
Not enough proof that I was the person who trained them how to become bestselling authors? Here’s a screenshot of my Mailchimp campaign I sent to everyone on August 13th, 2017.
Shows Date they Received Bestselling Email
This email contained two documents for them to use. Fist, I sent multiple pages for them to have a step-by-step sequential action plan to become bestsellers entitled “Bestselling Tactical Sequence.”
Second, the link, “Bestselling Email Contacts,” was another document with various email templates for them to easily copy/paste and send out to their circles and following.
Email with Step-by-Step Instructions and Templates to become Bestsellers
Oh my! Even more proof? Read her endorsement on Alignable about me while I was still in her corner helping her for free. I’m still curious where she got the number three from, I never knew I was helping her with three books. Glad I gave her the axe because she couldn’t even tell the truth about me having an incredibly enormous part in making her first book happen.
Endorsement on Alignable
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner Lie #4 = I Never Gave Her the Idea
I didn’t purposefully give her the idea to publish a collaborative book. She stole it from a Wisconsin Business Owners organizers meeting and ran with it with zero respect for the group she supposedly praises.
If you’re someone who wants this proof, contact any of the organizers of Wisconsin Business Owners. Maggie Mongan took it upon herself to do her own book instead of helping a group “she believes in.”
Wisconsin Business Owners
Maggie Mongan’s lack of respect for the group allowed her to go off on her to steal my material and the groups future prospective co-authors. They would’ve paid thousands of dollars less to be in a book with integrity but instead Maggie Mongan got her claws in them first.
As I was consulting her how to undertake this project, we had a few conversations about how the Wisconsin Business Owners book is priority and that she shouldn’t take any of those people away from that book. She agreed at first!
Needless to say, Maggie Mongan didn’t have enough respect for herself, the group, for me, or the lead organizer to follow through and find her own co-authors. She recruited numerous people from the group even after I brought it up multiple times that she’s in the wrong. Her response, “so what?”
As you may already know, Wisconsin Business Owners still hasn’t published their book nor have they started it solely because of Maggie Mongan’s lack of self-respect and absence of integrity.
STILL Stealing from Wisconsin Business Owners
I missed the December 2017 meeting to be with family but heard through multiple grapevines that she sent around a sign-up sheet for her to easily recruit more group members to be in her next book. To me, that’s a huge slap in the face to the Wisconsin Business Owners leader, organizing team, and to the entire group of 2,000+ people.
Maggie Mongan is a horrible individual just with the facts surrounding that last paragraph alone. How can you support or stand by someone who is that blatantly disrespectful to an entire group of dedicated individuals?
Finally, the only reason the idea about publishing a book in her presence was mentioned was to help the group succeed. It was not for Maggie Mongan’s self-serving interests to finally feel important and screw over everyone in her path.
Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner Lie #5 = I Was Never Sick
Once I woke up to the true nature of Maggie Mongan’s integrity, I dropped her and quit the book immediately because I didn’t want my name to be affiliated with something like that.
Since I got rid of her in early August 2017, I began learning all the rumors she spread of why I dropped out of her book, it’s time for the truth to come out — It had absolutely nothing to do with my multiple sclerosis (MS), my health in general, or lack of time!
Not being in her book had absolutely nothing to do with multiple sclerosis (MS) and nothing to do with being strapped for time!
I dropped out of the book and from her life because of who she is. There’s no other reason for it. Our story together and her extreme lack of respect and low integrity isn’t something I have definitive proof for so I wasn’t able to ethically publish it here.
Furthermore, she was bold enough to spread lies that I was having issues with my MS. This is something not to joke about or use as a lie. MS kills a lot of people every year.
Maggie Mongan, without my permission, used my disability to her advantage because the truth probably would’ve influenced every co-author I helped recruit and then train to drop out too.
More About Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner!
There’s so much more to learn about this woman; no respect, no integrity, shit talking about others, lying, cheating, stealing, and more. Honestly, contact her after reading the four other articles below.
Read how I am in the process of Correcting the Maggie Mongan Damage!
Contact Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner
Contact Maggie Mongan with Brilliant Breakthroughs for the Small Business Owner. Ask her how correct everything is in these articles.
Cell: (262) 716–7750
Contact Her Co-Authors Too! They Know All These Lies!
Mike Raber (414) 559–7535 [email protected]
Jake Nawrocki (414) 550–4012 [email protected]
Stacy Kaat (414) 758–0622 [email protected]
Greg Nicholson (310) 489–0062 [email protected]
Dave Wallace (414) 520–3227 [email protected]
Nancy Lucchesi (262) 227–1052 [email protected]
Dave Rebro (262) 513–2833 [email protected]
Susan White (224) 577–5022 [email protected]
Lori Bonaparte (408) 425–7531 [email protected]
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http://www.lucasrobak.com/maggie-mongan-with-brilliant-breakthroughs-for-the-small-business-owner
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chrisoncinema · 7 years
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Lessons from the Edit: Man of Steel
[UPDATE 8/27/2017: New, working video link below! Please note: to watch videos in their entirety, download the video to your computer. Streaming from Dropbox will only allow you to watch the first 60 minutes.] A Zack Snyder film is like that college freshman who got a little too into Ayn Rand his senior year of high school, has taken one Intro to Philosophy course, one Intro to Political Science course, and is now writing a manifesto. You know all of this because when he walked into your English class you said “Cool trench coat” and he mistook your derision for interest and now he won’t stop talking at you.
Zack Snyder’s films won’t stop talking at us and so, apparently, they’re here to stay. When I was a senior in high school, I defended Watchmen as a bold but fitting adaptation of a ground-breaking graphic novel. I thought it was very cool.
Now I’m just tired.
In this installment of Lessons from the Edit, we’ll take a look at Snyder’s first entry in the troubled and tone-deaf DCEU: Man of Steel.
I remember being very perplexed by the news that Christopher Nolan would produce (and, implicitly, oversee) a film directed by Zack Snyder. Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy felt like a fresh take on the superhero genre by treating it like a grounded, crime film. The Dark Knight clearly wants to be a Michael Mann film and blatantly steals from Heat. Zack Snyder has spent his career doing the exact opposite.
300 and Watchmen, whether or not you consider them successful or good, found interesting ways to translate the visual media of comic book graphics into audio-visual media of film without feeling derivative (see Ang Lee’s Hulk for that). A meeting of Nolan and Snyder’s worlds seemed incomprehensible. And it sort of was.
Man of Steel is like Michael Bay on downers. It’s still all American flags and muscle but the 2013 film feels like something Bay would make while on Xanax as opposed to (and I’m just speculating here) his usual cocaine. This is undoubtedly due in part to Snyder’s cinematographer, Amir Mokri, who book-ended his work on Man of Steel with two Transformers movies and was the DP for Bad Boys 2back in 2003.
Snyder trades in Bay’s kinetic maximalism for handheld wobbling in dialogue scenes and extraneous snap-zooms in CGI-heavy action scenes. If a Michael Bay film is a haywire roller-coaster, Man of Steel is like being in a small boat on choppy water. It’s a sea-sickness simulator. If the camera movement alone isn’t enough for you, Snyder kindly included plenty of teal/grey color grading so that everyone in the movie looks as sick as you feel.
The film’s look can probably be chalked up to Zack Snyder knowing he needed to depart from his previous, and now rather clichéd, style of inky blacks and time-ramping. So, credit where it’s due: at least Snyder was trying something – even if it was just extreme close-ups on farmhouse paraphernalia. That’s more than can be said for the aggressively bland visuals in the Marvel movies. Still, the direction in Man of Steel can be broken down into two basic parts: the boring first half and the migraine-inducing second half.
The one scene that I was pleasantly surprised by in preparing for my re-edit involved Russell Crowe’s Jor-El explaining to Clark where he came from and what happened to Krypton. It’s a simulated long-take wherein the camera glides from Crowe to Cavill to the graphite-colored bas-relief sculptures that are interesting enough to look at, if a bit cartoony. This brief moment has fluidity and rhythm and feels purposeful even though it’s all exposition that, in the theatrical cut, the audience already knows because they saw it in the beginning of the movie.
In an earlier scene, Clark is talking to his Earthly father, Jonathan Kent, at an old pickup truck in another relatively long take but here it is understandable why the first half of the film just seems to drag: nothing is happening. We linger on scenes of Pa Kent doggedly trying to convince his son not to become the superhero we all know he will be. These scenes could have been used to build up an actual relationship between young Clark and his dad so that Jonathan’s eventual death might mean something to us. Because here it doesn’t. These characters don’t feel like they have inner lives – they're clunky conduits for haughty monologues.  
Despite the fact that none of the characters are compelling or three-dimensional, the cast is full of highly talented actors who all seem to be trying their best. And also Henry Cavill. Amy Adams, Michael Shannon, Laurence Fishburne, Kevin Costner, Diane Lane, Russell Crowe – they’re all perfect for their roles, in theory, but they’re reduced to doling out lame speeches and hacky expositional dialogue. Whenever Amy Adams does a damsel-in-distress style scream I feel embarrassed. I’m embarrassed for Adams, who is wasting her time filming this trash, and for all the people who inexplicably think this is a quality film.
Henry Cavill is not good in this movie. Let me rephrase: of all the terrible lines by all the uninteresting characters in this movie, Henry Cavill’s are the least convincingly acted and he is the least interesting performer to watch. Let me rephrase: why was Henry Cavill cast in this movie? Is it because he’s buff? Because basically anyone could be buff if they trained (I’ve always felt that Superman doesn’t really need to have a bodybuilder’s physique anyway, but I don’t want to get into that right now).
If it were up to me, Superman would be played by James Wolk. In his role as Bob Benson on Mad Men, Wolk is the kind-hearted, loyal boy-scout that a superman should be. He has a combination of warmth and strength that doesn’t have to be cheesy or campy if you write it well enough. But there are plenty of people who could play Superman. There are plenty of people who can act. Henry Cavill is not one of them.
Also, whoever did his wardrobe should be fired. Granted, Henry Cavill looks good in the Superman suit but in the scene where Lois meets Clark in the cemetery it looks like Clark has never worn clothes before. Like, his pants and shirt are super baggy and he’s wearing a baseball cap really awkwardly. I guess it’s a “disguise?” Or they were trying to hide how muscular he is? Whatever, I’m getting off topic.
The craziest thing about Man of Steel is that it’s better than Batman V Superman. In Man of Steel, it’s at least clear why characters are doing what they’re doing. The story is pretty simple and character motivations are relatively logical within the context of the film. That’s much more than can be said for BVS. Because, in short, no: a movie is not good just because “Batman had a scene where he was cool in it.” You’re a child. That’s a bad argument.
More importantly, watch BVSand then watch Man of Steel again and try to tell me it isn’t the most blatant invocation of retroactive continuity you’ve ever seen. The last shot of Man of Steel is Clark Kent smiling.
Let me repeat: the last shot of Man of Steel is Clark Kent smiling.
At the time, it felt incredibly tone-deaf that the last scene was so chipper after we just witnessed an hour of cataclysmic destruction but now it just feels strangely quaint and innocent. It seems pretty clear that “Superman Goes to Court” was not the original plan for a Man of Steel sequel and was only a result of the outcry against the gratuitous destruction.
The main impetus for my edit of Man of Steel was the removal of all of that mind-numbing “action” where the characters turn into rubber and Zack Snyder gives up on composing interesting, or even discernible, shots. Furthermore, nothing is learned from these scenes other than plot points to be checked off. Superman doesn’t grow or change throughout the course of the fight and Zod is as hell-bent on his dastardly plan in the end as he was in the beginning. In reading the comments on my Rogue One edit I learned that some people just don’t care about character development. That’s insane to me but it also completely explains the current state of big-budget cinema and why people like something so insultingly dumb.
My other goal, and the most time consuming element, for this edit was fixing the color. Snyder shot Man of Steel on film. There’s a richness and a texture buried underneath all the bland, sickly desaturation that the Marvel movies will never achieve with their cheap, digital shooting. Lots of people have re-saturated the “Superman Flight” scene on YouTube – I tried to carry that through the whole movie and, honestly, I may have overdone it in a few places.
So here it is, Superman: a Chris on Cinema edit: https://www.dropbox.com/s/al3u8hynubs6jdy/SupermanMOS.mp4?dl=0 (NOTE: You need to have one of Dropbox's paid accounts to stream more than the first hour of the video but you should be able to download the video in its entirety. I'm currently trying to find a better streaming platform.)
Let me know what you think! Not really about Man of Steel (I’m sick of even looking at the film at this point) but about my edit in relation to it. So sound off: is it better? Is it worse? Would you like to hear a commentary track where I go into more detail about everything I cut? What’s another flawed or good-but-frustratingly-not-great movie that you’d like to see an edit of?
Next time on Lessons from the Edit: a movie that didn’t really need my help in the first place.
Before you download “Superman” please pay for a copy of the original film. “Man of Steel” is a Syncopy Production presented by Warner Bros. Pictures in association with Legendary Pictures. Directed by Zack Snyder with music by Hans Zimmer. Based upon “Superman” characters created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster published by DC Entertainment.
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