#(coworkers are one thing. and i should do better about correcting them.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
.
trying to figure out if i might be a man and what that means and uhh
bad! bad times!
tho tbf, i started having this crisis last year, when i was reading about baer, and then decided to push it off, and now it's come back when i'm about to move and start at a new store and might be starting an internship next month and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
#cloudy rambles#gender things.#i miiiight change my pronouns on here to be they/he???#most people read me as 'she' and that's not right!!!#and i don't know what to do about it!!#(coworkers are one thing. and i should do better about correcting them.#but random customers i'll likely never see again?? not really worth it)#uggghh
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
where the brook bends
the wistful wyvern, chapter two
a/n: something about fighting giant spiders just feels so quintessential skyrim...
summary: “you are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.”
warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity, arachnophobia (giant spiders), weapons, violence, bathing in a river
word count: 2243
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter
info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist
masterlist | join my taglist
“This is the third time in two years that dragon has attacked us,” the king’s jaw clenched, “third time, and we still don’t know how to slay it,” leaned against the central table in the war room, he glanced up to find Bucky’s eyes, “I was planning on going on a mission to gather intel, find its lair, study the beast, but–… things have changed,” on a heavy exhale, he let his eyes momentarily fall shut, “I need to stay here,” he stated slowly, “I can’t risk my life on a quest like this, not now that Cordelia is born… so,” his gaze fluttered back open, “I’m here to ask the two of you to take care of it.”
Shooting a glance over at Bucky, you hesitantly uttered, “us?”
You wanted to say no. A mission such as this could take months, and being stuck with Bucky for that long, just the two of you on the road, having to work so closely together, it might break you for good.
But then when Steve’s gaze locked with your own, the declination got stuck in your throat.
“You are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.”
“No, of course not, your majesty,” you swiftly replied, knowing that this plague was so much bigger than your own little feelings, “it would be an honour.”
“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order, it should be under the name Y/l/n.”
“Ah, yes,” the blacksmith nodded with recognition, “your blades are right over here,” he turned to retrieve them, “it was five new daggers, correct?” he glanced over his shoulder as he gathered the crafted arms in his grasp.
“Oh, six actually,” you slightly raised yourself up onto your toes to catch a glimpse.
“Right,” he turned his attention back to the table of finished and shiny weapons, “uh–”
But then before the blacksmith could begin to panic, a young apprentice came running over from the forge, “uncle, here!” and handed him the last dagger, “sorry, I was sharpening them and forgot one of them by the grinding stone.”
“Thank you, Peter,” he then let his expert eye wash over the metal, “ah, you’re getting better!” a bright grin crept up on the lad's face, “excellent work, my boy,” the blacksmith then walked back to where you waited and slid the cloth-bound blades over the soot-stained counter, “here you are, miss.”
“How much do I owe you?” you opened up your coin purse and began to flick through the change.
“Oh, no,” his hands raised up before him, “no charge,” a gentle shake tipped his head, “that’s already been taken care of by his royal majesty himself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “received a letter yesterday morning for anything that you, or your other warden friend out there, might need, to put it on his tab.”
“Alright, then,” a grateful chuckle bubbled out of you, “thank you.”
And as you headed back out of the open smithy onto the quaint streets of Borün, the proprietor cheerily called after you, “have a good day!”
“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder and offered the two figures a small wave.
Nestled in a t-intersection, the heat of blacksmith swiftly got soothed by the breeze from the docks that bloomed only a few storefronts down to the left. The melody of gentle waves crashing against the harbour sloshed directly into your soul. One seagull had even dared to bravely wander past you into the town square that unfolded in the opposite direction. Casting a brief glance down there, by the bistro on the corner, you saw an energetic child spring and flee from the rest of their family, as they sat around one of the cosy outdoor seating options and enjoyed a quiet lunch, to favour a sprint around the vast tree that stood rooted in the centre of the square.
“Did you get what you needed?” Bucky asked as you exited the shop, his grasp clutched tight around the reins of both Echo, his own horse that had a shiny black coat, as well as Zenna, the brown spotted mare you’d ridden for years.
“Yep,” you tugged the newly acquired weapons into one of the saddlebags strapped to your horse, “you ready to go or do you have any last-minute errands before we head out?”
“Nope, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he exhaled as you slid up onto Zenna, “let’s head out.”
“So, the dragon always escaped out west,” Bucky spoke, shooting a glance in your direction as you rode beside him, “every time, it was that direction.”
“Hm…” you searched your inner map, your vision dancing betwixt the trees you passed as you cut through the south-eastern corner of The Noll Woods, “could it be dwelling out by Anng?”
“Maybe…” he cocked his head, “there are a lot of small islands all along that part of the coast, maybe it could have claimed one of them?”
“Possibly…” one of your brows then tilted up as a theory struck you, “or perhaps it’s even closer than that,” your neck twisted and you met his eye, “The Asadånie Mountains.”
“That certainly is a possibility,” his gaze averted as he thought on it, “I mean, the mountain range is immensely vast and dangerous by design. I don’t even think it’s ever been properly represented on a map yet with how few venture up there.”
A noise then suddenly found your ear. A shrill clicking call from somewhere within the forest.
“Shh, shut up,” you swiftly snapped as you pulled on the reins to stop your horse.
Not hearing your hushed tone, Bucky kept on rambling, “it’s perfectly tucked away and secluded for a creature such as a dragon.”
“Barnes, I mean it, shut up,” you raised your voice sternly as your eyes raked the overgrown area around you.
“What?” he finally stopped as well a few paces ahead of you, “what is it?”
Sliding off of Zenna, you carefully looked around, listening intently for the sound that had chilled your bones.
You should have looked up, because if you had, then you would have maybe spotted the giant spiders lurking before they dropped down from their vast webs spun throughout the treetops above.
When one pounced on you, its curled fangs gnashing for a bite of your flesh, Bucky jumped off of Echo, though didn’t reach you before two skittered out to get him.
Drawing a dagger in each of your grasps, you then sank both of them into the spider’s dark and clustered eyes, twisting them clockwise before it sank to the forest floor below.
As you yanked them back out, a spray of ickier trailed your blades, even as you turned to throw one of them into the bigger of the creatures advancing on your comrade, your aim slaying it instantaneously, the viscus scattered against the side of your face at the toss.
But then a fourth one came from out of nowhere and pinned you down in the dirt. With the weapon still in your palm, your reach was too limited to strike it anywhere vital, though you still dealt a few blows where you could. Pierce it open above you, slimy viscera spilt out and showered your struggling form.
On your next attack, the hilt of your blade managed to get stuck in the tough hide of the monster, and with the spider guts that slicked up not only your grasp, you began to fear you wouldn’t be able to pry it back out.
But just before your hands slipped, as you tried to push it off of you and not render you its dinner, the spider suddenly went limp above you and you glanced up to see a thick bolt splitting its skull.
“Hey,” you snapped as you scrambled up onto your feet, “I had that one!”
Swinging his crossbow back over his shoulder, Bucky simply smirked, “sure, you did,” and bent down to pick up the dagger you tossed to save him, briefly flipping it playfully in his palm before he glanced up and threw it. For a split second, your eyes went wide, but then the short blade flew past your ear, and as your neck twisted to follow it, you watched as it logged itself into a younger spider you hadn’t noticed till now.
As the horses grazed and drank from the nearby stream, you unfastened your own bedroll from the back of Zenna.
When it was nestled under your arm, you offered the horse a gentle pat before turning back to the makeshift camp for the night. Sparks finally began to dance from Bucky’s efforts and the pile of twigs he had gathered was set aflame.
Once your bedroll was unfurled on the mossy ground, you quietly sat atop of it, chewing on some dry rations you’d found in the bottom of your satchel and stared at the sun as it slowly sank into the horizon. As your vision danced between soft pink clouds in the lavender sky, your gaze suddenly grew wide as Bucky stood up from his side of the fire and began to shed his clothes.
“What are you doing?” you asked as he peeled off the partial chainmail he wore and swiftly the dark blue tunic beneath, revealing his bare back to you before he cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Going for a dip. What does it look like I’m doing?” not slowing down at your alarm, he fiddled with his belt and stepped closer to the riverbank, “you know, you could use one as well,” he playfully added before stripping off the last of his clothing, “you reek of spider guts, my friend,” your gaze instantly fled up towards the sky before you could see more than just his backside.
At the splash of his jumping into the water, you subtly sniffed yourself before reluctantly uttering, “alright, fine,” and you pushed yourself up to your feet. After gathering a clean shirt as well as a wide rag to dry yourself off with from your supplies, you piped up again, “but you stay up here, I’ll go find somewhere more private further down.”
“Ah, come on, snow, you don’t have to do that!” he argued as you began to wander away, “what do you want me to turn around? Promise not to sneak a peek at your goods?”
But you just kept up your stride and called over your shoulder, “enjoy your bath, Barnes!”
The stream luckily curved slightly a ways further down. Not a lot, but enough to grant you enough assurance to give it a go. After you’d peeled off your layers of clothing and the pieces of leather armour that protected your frame, you slowly dipped a toe into the cool water.
The blushing skies slowly melted into black as you bathed in the river. When you took a moment to rinse out the ivory tunic you’d worn, your gaze flickered down the stream to spot Bucky as he splashed water up onto the part of him not submerged. As droplets danced down his skin, you nearly stopped breathing entirely as you followed their trail down to what the water obscured.
But then, like snapping awake from a dream, the dizzying sensation gave away to the depressing reality.
Once you’d scrubbed and cleaned yourself the best that you could, the stars above began to twinkle as you patted your skin dry and shrugged on the acquired clean shirt, a burgundy one, as well as the rest of your attire.
When you found your way back towards the camp, Bucky was already sitting by the fire, dressed and with his hair still dripping gently and turning the shoulders of his navy tunic nearly as dark as the night sky.
After you’d hung your wet shirt over a nearby branch, without sharing another word with the other warden you travelled with, you laid down on your bedroll and closed your eyes.
But before too long, Bucky’s low timbre found your ears over the crackling of the fire.
“Hey, what’s going on with you?”
“Uh, I’m trying to fall asleep,” you sighed loudly, “just as you should.”
“No, I mean what’s going on?” he persisted, “are you mad at me or something?”
Your eyes then blinked open to stare up at the stares, “why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know, yet you’ve given me the cold shoulder ever since you came back from Efira,” he then asked, “did something happen there?”
“Other than comb through tombs with a boring ass lord,” you huffed, “no, nothing happened.”
“Then what’s wrong?” he demanded.
The muscles in your jaw clenched tightly before you uttered, “nothing’s wrong.”
“Did I do something to piss you off?” he kept pushing, “because if so, I’m sorry.”
Your muscles flexed as you forcefully raised yourself up on onto an elbow and twisted to shoot him a glare, “look, we are here on an important mission. We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy and reminisce about old times in order to get the job done, alright?”
Dark brows tightly knitted together, he stared back at you before eventually huffing, “fine.”
“Great,” you then heatedly flopped back down and tensely turned your back to him, “goodnight.”
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble
#lea’s writing#eflorr au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
SOUR until SUGAR ☆
Suna rintarou x fem! reader
Fluff (◡ ω ◡).
For Minnie <3
You moved on, you really thought you did but seeing him happy with somebody else while you were still where you are now triggered something within you, well someone wishes to change that... A regular customer maybe?
/ Pls lemme know the artists @!
"Good morning" your coworker greeted you
"morning" you replied with a smile, for some reason today you felt like everything would go well.
You were in charge of taking orders today.
"Excuse me-" A familiar voice called out to you.
It was your ex, you were stunned you didn't know what to do unless he snapped you out of it again "Two strawberry shortcake, One latte and one Watermelons soda please." He only said that and returned to a table. With a girl.
Maybe your gut feeling that things would go right today wasn't correct after all.
"he didn't even say a hi... Of course why would he hah"
You wrote the order immediately down in a sticky note, you stole a glance at them before giving it to your coworker.
She was pretty, she really was. You felt she was even prettier than you taller than you and probably smarter than you too who knows.
You sighed and opened your phone to text your friend.
[You]
You won't believe ts,
I'm at work and for
some reason my ex who was in kyoto
Is in Tokyo's café where i work
Fml
[Friend]
WHAG
the odds are less but ever zero huh
GOOD LUCK
don't sweat it you guys ended it on
good terms isn't it?
Nth to worry abt
[You]
He's here with a girl :)
Probably new gf :))))
[Friend]
Oh....
Rip soldier ..
You closed your phone and almost went for a washroom break to bang your head on the wall but then the regular customer for 2 months walked in.
He approached the counter, "The regular?" You asked. He scratched his neck "Actually I have yet to decide" you handed him one of the sticky notes "After you decide you can write it here and bring it to me okay?"
40 seconds later he handed you the note.
Iced lemon soda
Blueberry cheesecake
You chuckled as you read it "he was going to write iced lemon soda anyway huh" then you saw there was an extremely scribbled line at the bottom you squinted your eyes but still couldn't read it.
That night you went home and devoured a whole box of ice cream watching comedy shows hoping it'll make you feel better.
The next day after school it started raining, it seems that the weather has been matching your mood lately and your bad luck has been consistent too, you held out a hand feeling the raindrops contemplating if you should wait till it stops or just run through it so you don't get late for work.
You sighed, you didn't want to get scolded by your manager again so you decided you'll just make a run for it, by running you'll reach there in 6 minutes of course it came with the risk of falling down and embarrassing yourself but you'd prefer that over getting scolded anyday.
Just as you put one foot into the slightly muddy ground something covered you from the above, a grey umbrella you turned your head to see it was the regular customer. "...what" it just came out of your mouth automatically. "Hm? Never seen me before?" He questioned, well you really didn't you entered this school only 4 months ago. "You go around here?" You asked. He smirked "That sounds like you're hittin' on me"
You raised your hand and waved it "huh no really.. I didn't know you studied here too.."
He just looked at the sky and then back at you "Well in any case we're heading the same way aren't we?"
"...to the café?" You asked. Just to be sure.
"Walking with me would be better than getting wet isn't it?"
Months passed and autumn arrived.
Of course you were working and he came again.
You walked to his table and folded your arms
"we're about to close"
"make some time for me yeah?" He put his one leg above the other.
Two people entered after him, it was your ex and that girl again.
You were less bothered by it this time because someone you knew was there. You tapped your feet "hurry I've gotta take orders of other people too y'know?"
He rested his chin on his hand "Actually I haven't decided yet"
You sighed and handed him a sticky note "you know what to do"
Before walking away you told him "It's my last day working here today by the way"
He hummed "My order today needs to be even more special then I guess"
After a minute he handed you the note.
Since you were already slightly annoyed and nervous from your ex and his girlfriend or whatever being there. You just handed the note to your co- worker who is also the manager without reading it. 4 seconds later she taps on your soldier "what is this..." You read it.
1 lemon iced soda
1 Jasmine milk tea
1 chocolate fudge
1 taro lava cake
1 chicken delight pizza
2 half cheese half sausage corn dogs and,
For the pretty cashier to share this with me
Custom order : her heart ♡
It was full of your favourite snacks from the café and most importantly what the hell was the last note, you immediately turned your face towards the opposite wall trying to hide your red face. Your manager sighed and put her hands on your shoulder. "Listen just go for it okay, you can take a leave today I won't reduce it from your paycheck"
"what????" You looked back at your manager, before you could say anything else she just pushed you "now off you go"
You pulled a seat in front of Suna and just sat there. "Why did you order so much? No way I can finish that" he leaned into the table now both his hands supporting his face. "I'll finish it for you then" you chuckled "like a trash panda?" He scoffed "yes. Like a trash panda."
Your gaze moved behind him, where your ex and his new girl were sitting Suna noticed that and his frown deepened he poked your cheek to face you towards him "How insulting, looking at others when I'm before you"
"I'm not..." You were about to pick your phone that was on the table to distract yourself but he pulled your phone back to him, you couldn't help but shamelessly notice his pretty hands "I'll repeat again, how can you focus on other things when I'm right here?"
Well let's say maybe you were gonna be getting a new boyfriend.
Everything felt sour until he added sugar.
#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#suna oneshot#suna rinatarou one shot#suna fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu oneshots#haikyuu oneshot#suna rintarou fluff
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: just wanted to do something in honor of sorry boys going on hiatus. this is entirely based on their last video so watch that to understand the silly headcanon time. cc!wilbur likers will be blocked by the way, thanks. get out of here
↳ warnings: none. just the four members here. four original, and only, members of sorry boys. no one else
↳ song: campus—vampire weekend
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• You'd think that an afternoon shift at a trampoline park would be easy; especially on the down days. Hanging around the snack bar with your employees, blowing whistles at loud kids, and keeping whatever was left in the lost and found bin became something of a daydream to you upon first getting hired
• It was a better alternative to the fast food joint you had worked previously at a crazed food van—you'd rather do anything but that after quitting
• Your first tip that things weren't going to be that easy should have been the camera crew that shuffled in on your second week, lead in part by a blonde guy with a stack of pre-signed waivers in his hand
• "What's up with that?" You turned to your only other coworker at the hour, a lanky guy with a mask and fluffed up hair. You thought you remember his name starting with an R or something along the lines of that, but mostly you referred to him as 'dude' or 'hey you.' He never felt the need to correct you, so you just never stopped
• "Oh yeah." He'd responded with a tired voice while barely even looking around. "Uh, we have a group that comes in every few days and rents out the place. I've seen them bouncing around, and I'm not really sure they're, uh, stable I guess you could say."
• Glancing down from the reception desk and to the play floor below, you caught a glimpse of the three others he spoke of, one being the blonde kid from earlier, surrounded by a few cameras and doing some rather weak jump moves. One in a red fat suit fell over at one point and refused to get up as he rolled around on the floor whining
• "Er," You took a step out of the reception desk area as you pointed a finger down at the scene. "Shouldn't one of us be down there? Supervising, and all that." You neglected to mention that one of the men looked old enough to be your father and should probably be mediating them
• For a moment you thought your coworker would shrug and tell you to go on, but he just sighed and grabbed his whistle like a weary office worker preparing for a morning round
• "At least this time I won't be alone." He looked at you. The eyebags under his eyes made you feel like he'd done this a lot more than he'd ever wanted to, despite only being at work a few weeks more than you
• The next few minutes went by fine. You were mostly ignored by the two fellows in fat suits as they proceeded to say 'dude' and 'bro' far too much, and was only offered a high five by the same blonde— Tungo you now knew. At one point the cameramen pulled you and the other worked over for a small interview, the likes of which you seemed to enjoy more than him
• The first time either of you really had to step in was when the red fat suit one delved into his shell, yelling something about yoinking his pork
• "Chungus? Chungo?" You managed to say his name without somehow laughing. "Please don't do that. We're gonna have some problems if you continue to."
• As Chounce popped his head out like a cartoon character to look at you, you offered a wobbly smile, and was severely relieved when he finally brought his hands out of his suit to cross them
• "For the record dude I wasn't even pulling my plug." He frowned, having the decency to look midly embarrassed. "I was just thinking about my feelings, bro."
• You got a thankful look from your fellow employee at your successful endeavors
• The both of you continued to watch as a competition between Chounce and Tungo occurred, eventually somehow turning into a fight between them as the self proclaimed Master Za watched
• In reality, you were pretty sure their real names all aligned somewhere along the lines of Tommy Charlie and Phil, if the signatures on their wavers spoke for anything, but none of them seemed to call each other anything but nonsense
• At one point, you were compelled enough by the entertainment to purchase a bag of popcorn from the snack desk, earning a look at disappointment from your coworker as he saw
• "Please don't encourage them." He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to knock his mask off
• "I don't think it'd matter if I did or didn't." You smiled through a mouthful. "Just look at 'em." You waved at the kid zone they'd all migrated too in the last hour or two, currently kissing Master Za on the face as he yelped in protest
• "Wait." Your hand lowered slowly as you blinked. "That's not allowed—"
• The two of you took off in their direction, using your whistles for what felt like the hundredth time that day as you ran
• By the time closing hours came around, it was dark enough outside to make you yawn. It took a significant amount of convincing to get the three of them, mostly Chounce, to leave and stop bouncing, but it eventually worked with a few well placed bribes. Namely, handfuls from your unfinished chip bag from earlier
• "You weren't all that bad! Not a wrong'un after all." Tungo eventually confided in you in front of everyone as you went to close up, looking strangely proud about such a mediocre compliment. You grinned at him anyways, finding him to be one of the saner ones throughout the whole ordeal
• "Maybe next time I could judge a match of yours, yeah?" You offered as you thumbed through the cash in the register
• "Please do not encourage them." A familiar voice from outside sounded for the second time that day, making you suck air between your teeth in an attempt not to snort with laughter
• "And remember to check the bathrooms before you leave. One of them likes to hide in them after we close."
• "Sorry, what—"
• You ended up having to drag Chounce out bt his ankles that night and into Master Za's car so he could get home
• "You know what? It's still better than the food truck."
#the sorry boys#sorry boys#tommyinnit#tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit x you#tommyinnit x y/n#charlie slimecicle#charlie slimesicle x reader#charlie slimecicle x you#charlie slimecicle x y/n#ranboo#ranboo x reader#ranboo x you#ranboo x y/n#philza minecraft#philza minecraft x reader#philza minecraft x you#philza minecraft x y/n#mcyt#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#the sorry boys x reader#x reader#headcanons
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sage (Marcus Pike Drabble)
Rating: PG
Summary: You and Marcus can't agree on anything.
Tags/Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol
Notes: The challenge: write a drabble in 30ish minutes with the assigned Pedro boy for the prompt "finally, something we can agree on." Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the lovely dividers! No beta we die like my soul working 40+ hours a week.
Words: 452
Author Master List | Marcus Pike Master List | Daily Clicks for Palestine
“We should go out sometime,” Marcus says, a charming smile painted on his face as he leans against your desk.
You move your eyes up toward him and then pull them back to the case file in front of you. “No.”
“It’ll be fun. I know this great Mexican place just around the corner-”
“I don’t date coworkers, Marcus.” You look through the case file like it’s the most riveting piece of literature you’ve ever read.
“Oh, Bob was gonna come too.” He points to the desk right behind you.
You spin around and Bob waves at you with a smile. Marcus returns the gesture to your coworker. “See you at 7? I’ll text you the address.”
He’s gone before you can protest.
You laugh at something Marcus says as you finish off your margarita. Bob left an hour ago, but you and Marcus haven’t moved. They kick you out at closing.
“Wanna come to mine? It’s just around the corner.”
“I told you I don’t-”
“Who said anything about a date?”
“You told your mom about me?”
“No.” Marcus scratches the back of his neck.
You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Not intentionally,” He says weakly. “She really wants to meet you.”
“No,” You say as Marcus’s doorbell rings.
“You want Pizza or Chicken for dinner?”
“Pasta.” You bite back a smile.
Marcus looks at you with a half-annoyed look.
“I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“You just think you do. I have that effect on people.”
“You’re just being difficult.
Marcus burrows his head into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin. Your legs stretch out under the covers as you blink away the sleep haze.
“Good morning.” His voice is soft and husky.
“Good morning.” You smile.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Never a good thing.”
“Why don’t you move in with me?”
“I like having my own space.”
“You can have the spare bedroom.”
“Beige or charcoal?” Marcus asks.
“Sage.”
“That wasn’t an option.”
“It’s a better one.”
“Silver or gold?’
“You should know the answer to that.”
“Humor me.”
“Figure it out, Mr. FBI.”
“Marry me?” He’s on his knee in front of you, a diamond ring set in the correct metal in a velvet box.
You’re wide-eyed, not expecting it tonight. He’s looking at you with nothing but big heart eyes and a hopeful smile. It makes your heart melt. This is your man. He’s all yours. Your Marcus.
“Yes,” It falls from your lips as you meet him on the ground, pressing your lips to his. He laughs, arms wrapping around your waist
“Had me worried you were gonna fight me on this too,” he teases.
“Shut up.”
#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x you#the mentalist#the mentalist fanfiction#marcus pike fanfiction#pedro pascal#ppcu fanfiction#pedro stories#pedrostories#drabble
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
After careful consideration and a lot of angry tags, I think I have pinpointed for me where Ted Lasso, especially season three, fails to succeed all the way at the themes it explores.
The narrative uses the deconstruction of toxic masculinity to paint their characters as being stronger for having let go of their preconceived notions of acceptable behavior - but the narrative also never lets their characters be weak or fragile without having toxic masculinity to blame. And there are a lot of situations in this show where you would expect someone to go ‘hey man, are you okay? Are you doing alright? because that was a shit thing that happened. it’s okay if you’re not okay.’
And it never does.
There’s an undercurrent in how scenes play out that suggests that the male characters should be strong enough to deal with hand they’ve been dealt. The narrative suggests that they’re the ones who need corrected. They can act better, but they can not be treated better themselves as a result. The male characters are allowed to express themselves, but they are not allowed to ask for anything back from the situation.
Which is why you can have a fight with your assistant coach, but when he comes back to apologize you don’t articulate how it made you feel. You don’t tell your friend how he hurt your feelings. You just accept it and move on.
The Diamond Dogs give advice on how to handle external problems with emotional roots. They never discuss how they feel internally on its own merit.
The closest we got to a male character just having a bad one and expressing it without a clear source of external conflict? Jamie in the boot room. And that was played for laughs.
Which is why you could be in a deep depression over losing your career of twenty years and part of your mobility, I guess. But also maybe that’s a problem of you not being able to let go, and maybe you should apologize for not moving on sooner? We should pity Roy for getting so stuck in his own shit all the time. Not because the man has lived an incredibly stressful and emotionally isolated life in a high pressure environment for so long he doesn’t have the tools to deal with it, but because the narrative would like us to know if he just stopped getting in his own way all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem.
Is your ex-wife seeing someone else, who happens to also be the person who was your marriage counselor? I don’t know man, relationships are hard. Don’t worry about how hard that must have shaken your trust in a profession that already made you feel skittish. Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and move on.
Your girlfriend can tell all your friends and coworkers how you’re too smothering. Yes, this is the ‘learn how to communicate better’ show, but that was on you, really. Good on you for apologizing for smothering her.
The women may have worrying relationships with people who love bomb them or turn out to be controlling, but Jane and Beard are just a bit weird. Don’t worry about it, Higgins.
You can take accountability for your actions, but if it was your email who was hacked - who cares? You apologized, and everyone is very proud of you. We won’t ever bring up how incredibly mortifying that must have been for you to realize, because something more mortifying happened to someone else.
You can show your emotions, but not the angry ones, not the bad ones - those you should get a hold on, no matter how warranted they are. The stronger you are, the more divorced from toxic masculinity you are, the less those things should matter.
Struggling with your abusive dad and how his relationship with you has literally scared you so badly that you keep looking over your shoulder, afraid he’ll be there? That is clearly the anger talking. This is definitely not a situation that calls for your pseudo-father figure to put his hand on your shoulder, look you in the eye, and say, “i’m really sorry to hear that, son, but you know we got your back. Ain’t nothing bad gonna happen to you while we’re here.”
No no, this is a you problem and you can correct it by forgiving that man who hurt you. In fact, you thank him for motivating you. It was the anger that got you this far. It wasn’t getting up at 4am every morning for extra training. It wasn’t your mentor, the one invested all his time in helping you. It wasn’t the coach who gave you a second chance when you blew your whole life up to get away from that man. It wasn’t your own drive and passion and love for the sport that pushed you towards succeeding in a career you only had a one-in-a-million chance of ever getting. No, it was the anger that carried you. You should let that go. And hey - what if hypothetically speaking, he might try to be better too one day? You can’t hold it against him. You should let that go too.
Breakdowns and displays of crying are fine, but expecting people to care or show concern afterwards? The narrative doesn’t know her. The narrative will not validate that. We don’t see what happened after Wembley. We don’t see what happened when Isaac came back to the locker room after blowing up. What the show will validate, however, is moving on. Just be a goldfish, or forgive and forget.
And finally-
Embrace your feelings, but not too hard - you can’t be trusted with them, actually.
Can you imagine that we actually got a scene of Roy telling Jamie that he was worried if either of them pursued Keeley it might ruin their friendship? Can you imagine? From the beginning they have butted heads. From the beginning, Roy has struggled to actually articulate his feelings, especially to the people they involve. And here is Roy doing exactly what the narrative has been teaching him to do - he voiced a feeling that was bothering him to the person who was involved in the problem. Unprompted. He did that on his own. After three seasons of being told that is what he should do when he has a problem, that should have been the moment of narrative reward. That would have been the audience’s release of tension: they’re still at odds, they’re still the same bull-headed people they’ve always been, but they’ve learned to talk about it. No matter what happens next, at least, they’ve gotten this far.
Instead the narrative rewarded him, and us, by having them fight it out in a back alley. Because they’re idiots, and they can’t be trusted to handle their feelings without someone else in the narrative (Keeley) setting them straight.
Yes, people backslide in real life all the time. But when the narrative backslides at the very end of the story - that’s just nihilism. That’s what this felt like - all that progress and promise that you can be better, and two of the people who struggled the most tripped at the finish line. The audience don’t even get to see them pick back up. I mean they’re fine now, I guess. They went for kebabs. I have to assume it worked out. I guess after that they found a way to be happy, but I would have preferred to see them find a way to be happy by way of their own actions. Not in a fanfic. Not by way of imagining how it went afterwards. Not by what’s implied in a montage. By the story actually showing me they could get there on their own.
And the worst part about all of this is that when the show gets it right? It fucking sings. The team coming together to repair Ola’s? That sings. Ted’s ‘ain’t nobody in this room alone’ speech? Wonderful. Trent telling Colin that ‘some people need time to adjust; it’s not fair, but they do’? So delicately wielded, so painful. Beard’s speech to Nate about stealing a loaf of meth? Chef’s kiss. Ted forgiving Rebecca when he learns why she brought him to coach Richmond? The tears in his eyes when he tells her ‘divorce is hard’?
The hug at Wembley.
That’s what I wanted, from start to finale. When the show knew how to wield its empathy, it wielded it like a knife, cutting into the deepest parts of your heart.
Which is why when it does mess up, it hurts so much worse. Because by season three, the show has sunk so far into the deconstruction of things that it’s forgotten that what it fixed were not the only problems those characters ever faced. The show zoomed in too close on the themes. It forgot that at its roots, the its biggest strength has been its empathy. And that to me is where the show failed.
#i am upsetti spaghetti#and this has been rolling around in my noggin since the finale so- here#ted lasso meta#people don't care when bad shows mess up#they care because the show was good#oh and because i can't say this enough#fuck jamie's dad#i'm all for forgiveness and fuck jamie's dad are two sentiments that can should and do coexist
155 notes
·
View notes
Note
you should tell us about the character misinterpretation...
i was just thinking about. how so many character portrayals surrounding the characters in this series tend to veer towards family dynamics or extremely close friends that would do anything for each other. and im gonna go into both of these. and also the view of characters being seen as girlbosses and all that but thats been talked about a lot so ill be short with that. im putting this under the cut because its just me ranting LMAO. none of these are directed at anyone since i think most of my mutuals seem to get it but this is just in general
im gonna give a disclaimer that theres a very good chance i could be wrong about these, this is mainly based on my own view of some of the character themes/dynamics and how they're framed in-story, i haven't gone back and reviewed canon sufficently enough to be correct on this. with that said i need to be a hater for a bit 👍
i think the family thing. just does not make a lot of sense to me when it comes to like 80% of the dynamics i've seen. literally the ONLY one i understand is thatcher and adam because like. obviously an older character calling a younger character "kid" and helping them out and all that would lead to those characters being seen as having a mentor/trainee or father/son dynamic. i get that. that makes sense ALTHOUGH i will say that i don't think it's quite as simple as that but i wouldn't even know how to explain
but a lot of the time when it comes to other characters. i do not understand how they could be seen as a family dynamic with the knowledge we have of the characters now. like sarah being seen as an older sister figure to bps (which. does not make sense considering she's younger than at least one of them) or like. the mandelatech employees being seen as having any kind of family dynamic (that one just. does not make any sense to me. i feel like the only reason for that is because it's, again, an older character and a younger character that hang out but i cannot see them as uncle/niece or whatever else they are. those are coworkers to me but maybe that's just my view). there's also the idea of the remaining four survivors being seen as a general family thing and i cannot wrap my head around that at all. it makes sense for thatcher and adam as i said in the previous paragraph but it doesn't make sense for characters like sarah or evelin i cannot understand that in the slightest. again this may just be my own personal view
and then the thing with a lot of characters being close friends. this one i can kind of understand because obviously when characters are canonically friends you want to view them as being good friends. which makes sense in a lot of other things but i think with tmc in particular. a recurring theme (outside of characters like sarah and evelin or thatcher and ruth. both of those seem to be character duos that don't have issues in their relationship) is that a lot of these friendships are not good for one or both parties, whether that's a realized thing or not. again, i get how it's a lot more fun to see them as being close but i feel like viewing them as strictly close friends that only have good views on each other or as characters that would really care much about another's death in a very impactful way is kind of undermining the whole point in a lot of these dynamics.
tl;dr: while it's fun to imagine characters as having a family dynamic or as even just having a healthy friendship, as is mainly prevalent in fanon, i don't think that can be applied to canon without ignoring parts of a character/their reactions to things and their story.
final thing i'm going to touch on is something that has been talked about in SEVERAL fandoms by people that could articulate it way better than more. but i personally have a very strong vendetta about immediately labeling a female character as a girlboss or anything like that and not establishing their character beyond that. ESPECIALLY when it doesn't even line up with the character as a whole. most of the time it just feels like a binary where a girl character HAS to be labeled as a girlboss or a girlfailure or whatever other label there is regardless of whether or not they actually fit that. it's understandable to lightly joke about that (like evelin being referred to as the latter. in that case it makes sense to use that in reference to her but using that as the only defining part of her character limits her to that) but when it's used as the ONLY way those characters can be described it just becomes annoying to an extent
even for characters like ruth who we don't know a lot about, there's more to her than just. i don't know. being the singular braincell (which tends to be the view of female characters when it comes to one girl in a group of guys. which i cannot stand) or being the girlboss or being the strong one of the three and nothing else.
for the last paragraph i will admit that the majority of my talking about ruth tends to revolve around her dynamic with her friends, but there's absolutely more to her character outside of that or just being the dead character (even though her death absolutely serves as a driving factor for thatcher's character arc and other things). she does not exist solely for that group dynamic or just to be the dead character she has more depth outside of that and she has so much more depth than just being labeled as a "girlboss" and nothing else.
anyways. this was mainly just me going on a rant towards the end but i just needed to verbalize these thoughts before i exploded nothing i say is canon or the interpretation everyone else has to have this is me yelling into the void. okay goodbye 👍
#tmc#sorry i think i turned into some manner of beast halfway through this. anyways#probably got character info wrong but i hope the majority of this makes sense
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s late, but I wasn’t about to let Tome’s day go by! I present: so many words.
Summary: This is not a psychic union. It’s an employee union.
Word Count: 2,005 (…yeah)
—
look for the union label…
The more Tome thinks about it, the better the idea sounds. She isn’t sure what benefits members of the Sun Psychic Union get, but they have to be good ones if they can keep all those superpowered psychics around. If they’re worth paying hard-earned dues over instead of going freelance, then it has to be a top-tier organization. And it’s one she can’t join.
It’s not like Tome doesn’t like the job she has, she wouldn’t work for any other psychic in Seasoning City! Reigen could pay her a little better for all her hard work, snacks don’t grow on trees—except for that one weird month with…spinach?—, but she’s not trying to leave. A union’s good backup if she ever does need something, someday. If she was a psychic, she’d have to join the Sun union, so if you think about it, this is basically going along with the rules.
Except there’s no union for employees of a psychic or the invaluable backup work people like her and Mr. Serizawa do. Like filing or…or billing receipts for curse-breaking massages. Or going out on cases in the evening at the beginning of the school year.
They deserve a union. And if they’re the ones in charge, they can choose their own benefits, like better pay, or days off, or more snacks, not asking if Peppercorn expects her to do homework. Reasonable stuff for a Spirits & Such exclusive union. Probably. She isn’t sure.
But she does have the office to herself today and the other option is working on her history homework…so she has all time she needs to look up anything. Everything! Using Reigen’s computer is fine too, it’s for the good of the workers.
—
All of Tome’s sources agree, the first step to a successful union is getting your coworkers on your side. When you have three of them, that’s gonna be a very good thing or a very bad one. She decides to focus on the positives as she takes the familiar route back to Salt Middle School.
She’s not exact sure what happened between the city almost breaking to pieces—again—and now, but when she spots the brief member of her old club, it seems like it’s been…good. Mob smiles at her and waves backs when she flags him down leaving the school yard.
She knows how much Reigen means to him and that Mob’s not really an employee anymore, but if she can get him on her side, she can convince anyone.
“A union?” Mob looks carefully over her printed list of employee benefits.
Tome takes a deep breath. She knows she got wild about aliens and it wasn’t really about aliens and the alien hunt almost didn’t turn out well and Inukawa went missing for ten days, and maybe she misses the structure of the Telepathy Club a little, but. There isn’t much to do at Peppercorn yet.
“I like it. I think you should have one,” Mob says, handing the paper back before Tome can lay out her ten steps to union success.
There’s something in the way he says it, not angry, but…whole in a way she hasn’t heard from him before. She thinks it’s good for him.
“Really?” she asks before course-correcting. She did not expect it to be that easy. “I mean, thank you for your support, Mob. Ah, Shigeo.”
It feels more like him to call him that for some reason, even if he looks surprised she calls him that too.
Once Shigeo’s out of sight, Tome lets out a long, winded sigh out into the twilight she didn’t know she had in her. Wipes a bit of sweat off her palms. Okay, she did it. She actually did it. One down, two to go.
She’s gonna start a union.
—
“Why is it on mobgle again?” Tome overhears Reigen mutter to himself, making one of those weird faces at his laptop.
She to tries to make it look like filing is the most interesting thing in the world.
—
The thing is Mr. Serizawa is a really nice guy, kind of a pushover sometimes if Tome’s honest, but she still brings Shigeo with her to talk to him. Just for more proof that this is a serious offer.
All the suggestions said it was better to talk to coworkers outside of work, so that’s what she does, brings Shigeo along and catches up with her other coworker about two blocks away from the office.
“A…union?”
“Like the Sun Union,” she cuts in this time. “We’ll have benefits and if we don’t want to do something, we can use collective bargaining power. So we can tell the boss ‘no.’ Really stand up to him!”
Mr. Serizawa gets a kind of look on his face.
“Like if the union, us,” she pushes on, nodding to Shigeo to include him, “votes that we’re not going into a sewer after a spirit, we won’t have to.”
She figures Mr. Serizawa can agree they don’t want to do that again.
“I don’t know…” he hedges, sounding almost sorry to tell her. “I never thought I’d have a job as good as working at Spirits & Such.”
“There’s strength in a union, Mr. Serizawa. We can make important decisions for the future of the company. Better pay! Better hours! And–and a new desk!”
He does look more interested at that, a flicker of doubt in his eye. And Tome jumps on it, slamming her fist to her open palm, a familiar excitement coming up.
“Those are working conditions, Mr. Serizawa! We can put that in our demands! And if we don’t get it? We strike!”
“A new chair would be nice,” Mr. Serizawa says, more to himself that to her but she’ll take it.
“Shigeo’s joined too,” she sweetens the deal. ��We outnumber the boss three to one and we’ll get you that chair!”
She thinks Shigeo nods, but the unionizing articles said eye contact was important.
“…I don’t think he’ll fire us,” Mr. Serizawa says, considering.
“He won’t,” Shigeo agrees.
“That’s the spirit!”
They only need part of a workforce to get a union and she has three out of three. She knew her counselor was lying when she called Tome too forceful.
—
The problem is sometimes it’s harder to have Mr. Serizawa as part of the union before they’re—she’s—ready to list their requests than not having him in it. Something about keeping the (temporary) secret makes him more nervous around Reigen than usual. That’d be great as a friend, but it’s exhausting as a union president.
She can’t say Reigen’s noticed yet though. Probably because Mr. Serizawa looks kinda generally haunted sometimes, but she’s had two weird nightmares about it already.
—
“I want to join your union.”
Halfway across a crosswalk, a list of possible wage increase bargaining tactics in her hand, Tome gets ambushed by Shigeo’s little brother. Well, ambushed might not be the right word, but she does yell and almost lose her list.
“…you worked for Spirits & Such?” she asks once they’ve gotten to the other side of the street.
Reigen’s filing system before Mr. Serizawa was strange enough to be in French or something and she doesn’t know how he remembers to pay his taxes, but he always wrote down when they had any expenses.
Ritsu grimaces. “I…interned. Will I be allowed to join or not?”
…well, numbers are numbers.
Tome feels like she’s gotten the politest mugging in the country.
—
“You know this won’t work, don’t you?”
“You don’t qualify as an employee,” Tome says instead of answering the only spirit around here who hasn’t been exorcised. If she says it through a mouthful of chips, that’s fine. She doesn’t have to be polite right now.
Reigen’s out dealing with the office’s owner about a window getting blown up mid-exorcism and Mr. Serizawa’s gone to pick up a drink order. She figured this would make the best time to put the last touches on their requirements to keep the union from going on strike, but now she has an old ghost telling her she’s doomed for failure.
She’s heard that and it never stuck! Thinking about it, she should hit him with that net again.
No. She has a better idea, grinning and talking around another handful of chips. “You’re mad cause I didn’t ask you to join, aren’t you?”
Ekubo huffs, forming tiny legs and sitting down mid-air. “I’m the reason this place lasted as long as it has. Reigen wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for me.”
Tome guesses she believes that with how much trouble Reigen gets into. Someone had to have tried to kill him before.
“Fine. Wanna join the union?” If this doesn’t do anything else, Tome can say she’s part of the only union in town with a ghost.
“You don’t stand a chance. Yes.”
—
Tome’s been a class president already and she held it together, more or less, for most of that year. She even brought Shigeo in, more or less, and that got her to this huge supernatural world most people don’t even notices. She knows what she wants and she goes after it! That’s why she’s here now.
She’s even had input from all of the other employees, the things they think are important like calling ahead and someone else who agrees about school nights. Hell, she cut her snack demands to fit what she guesses is the total S&S budget, all for the good of the union.
It’s something, right here in her hands and important and she doesn’t miss her friends who are still in middle school as much with her coworkers waiting at her signaland she can do this, bursting through the front door of the one and only Spirits & Such Consultation.
Reigen almost climbs up his desk with the door slam, but Tome’s not going let that stop her.
“We are officially announcing the formation of the Spirits & Such union as agreed by all employees, part timers, interns—”
“Interns?” Reigen squawks.
“—and freelance spirit consultants. Here are our requirements.”
She puts the hard copy down on the desk, between her and Mr. Serizawa it even has the company logo on it. And a shiny border, she paid to have it printed up herself.
Besides it’ll give Reigen the opportunity to follow along. Tome has the terms memorized.
They need clearer hours and leeway if they can’t make it! A competitive wage, or a better division of goods for services rendered!
“This is not a livable wage, shishou,” Shigeo adds about here in the speech. She thinks Reigen looks proud through the confusion.
And there’s the value of their labor! She and Mr. Serizawa could work other places! He has superpowers! She could focus on high school!
There’s the overtime, they have no overtime pay! No school night double time! A new chair!
Tome hasn’t felt this energized in months.
“And,” she says, winding down and half-out of breath and so, so proud, “if these terms are not agreeable, we’re going on strike.”
“Oh,” Reigen says. And goes through one of those things where he goes through several possible faces before landing on one. He puts the list back down. “I don’t agree to those terms.”
“But I—” slips out of Tome’s mouth before she can stop it. She’s not going to get upset like last time. She won’t. If they have to strike, and she has to apologize to her coworkers for that, so be it.
“I’m not agreeing to all that,” Reigen says, punctuating his words by pointing at various spots. “Look, there it says I have to give six hours notice and even I don’t know that sometimes. The supernatural doesn’t stop for peoples schedules. And here, we don’t have the budget for that type of raise in this economy.
“So you’re going to have to stay here and negotiate, Kurata.”
“Negotiate?”
“You’re the one in charge of this union, aren’t you?”
Tome grins and pulls a chair up to the desk.
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Because brain said do it:
Personality swap AU
Agent Phoenix joined the agency specifically to make a name for themselves. They are arrogant about their skill sets, bragging about their accomplishments to whoever will listen. Their handler has had to tell them to shut up on more than one occasion.
Their pride is the thing they care the most about, and absolutely despises being corrected.
Despite all this, they are the best agent they have, so no one can exactly tell them their pride is incorrect.
John Juniper is known for being a nice man. Despite being the villain in many performances (and absolutely killing it) John has shown his willingness to help others clearly. A lot of people regard him as the world's greatest actor. Despite this, he hasn't gotten a big head, and people who have met him have said how friendly he is (including au Reggie).
Secretly, John hates himself. (Which might be true in cannon lmao) He thinks his whole career is built on bad lies, and if he makes a mistake everything could come crashing down. Which led him to the worst mistake he's ever made in his life: getting manipulated by Zoraxis into a plot to take over the world.
He's not an idiot, mind you. He doesn't want to do this, but he can't find a way out of it that doesn't leave him broke, disgraced, and on the streets.
more under the cut
Reginald Crane probably shouldn't be a handler. He's not temperamental or anything. (Okay, maybe he's a little temperamental. But can you blame him? His agent is a bitch.) His mind is clearly designed for invention, assisting the head of R&D, Roxana Prism, with various projects when not working. He can go on rants about mechanical engineering, for which his agent has told him to shut up several times.
While it seems to outsiders that Crane likes Prism, under a mask of friendship lies resentment. She clearly isn't suited for the position she's in, one which he'd absolutely love. She had practically stolen his idea with the TK implants, and definitely stole his idea for the robots, which she used for helpers around places instead of what they really should be used for- field operatives.
Selling out to Zoraxis wasn't a thing he had ever planned on doing, but he was furious at her.
Roxana Prism also probably shouldn't have been in R&D. She was social and kind. A lot of people said she gave off a motherly vibe. She has trouble thinking up ideas on her own, but once she got started she could hyperfocus her way through it, with only a few mistakes along the way.
It was a good thing she had a friend like Reginald. He could generate hundreds of ideas, and details about how they would work. She wished she could get him in the R&D, but he was already the lead support agent. She figured he wouldn't want to work here.
(I've also got Fabby and Solaris swapped but I don't know how I would describe that)
Patch notes:
Reggie and Phoenix probably have a "I'll tolerate you because we're coworkers, but if we met in real life I would punch you" relationship instead of the normal found family one, because of the personality differences.
John is definitely much nicer to his staff, which means that Gibson probably wouldn't be willing to sell him out to Phoenix in Party Crashers.
Reginald still really likes John Juniper movies, he's just less fanboy-e.
I was thinking what would make Prism(Reggie) join Zoraxis, but nothing came to mind. Then I realized that Reggie(Prism) had a perfect reason to join Zoraxis, and it makes an even better betrayal in my opinion.
I'll probably write something about this, I'm definitely writing the kidnapping scene with this in mind
Anybody have any questions, please send an ask 👍
#i expect you to die#agent phoenix#ieytd#reginald crane#the handler#dr prism#john juniper#ieytd 2#i expect you to die 2#ieytd 3#i expect you to die 3#ieytd au#i don't know if anyone has done something like this before but I think it's cool
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
I made a huge mistake almost a whole year ago and I still think about it all of the time.
I was working with this new staff member… and I did the worst thing anyone could do and assumed their pronouns… I was using the wrong pronouns for weeks until my sister told me that they go by they/them. When she told me that my entire heart shattered. I felt like the biggest asshole ever. How could I, a member of the lgbtqia+ community fuck up that badly. I felt horrible and of course I still do.! (No one knows I’m queer so I also feel like now they think I’m transphobic and/or homophobic)
I wanted to apologise but then I felt like I’d be making up excuses for myself and I’m also like really socially awkward so I didn’t end up saying anything.
The thing is, I still feel so horrible about it and I guess that’s a good thing bc at least I know that I care about being respectful but it just really sucks that I was misgendering someone for so long and didn’t realise the harm I could have been causing them.
I’m so sorry to be ranting to you at 2am but I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever get over this and I just needed to speak about it to someone.
Ps- I am the agender questioning anon and so thank you so much for helping me with that… I think I’m starting to understand myself so much more now!
So much love to you Cas, I hope you have the most amazing day! 🫶🏼
Hi love!
woah woah woah. Take a breath <3
Here's the thing. Yeah, it sucks to be misgendered. and yeah, in a perfect world, we should ask people for their pronouns every time we meet them.
But here's the thing: that's not reality. Why?
It's not always safe to ask for/share pronouns. There are many situations where I, myself, don't feel comfortable asking someone's pronouns or sharing my own. So I assume. And unfortunately, that means I get misgendered and so do other people. But my safety and the safety of others is first and foremost.
Also, it's a habit to get into, to ask people for their pronouns, even when they might present in a way that makes you assume. Habits are difficult to form, and sometimes a mistake like this helps you become more eager to form them.
And here's the thing: you did the EXACT RIGHT THING by not making a big deal of it when you found out and (I'm assuming) just using the right pronouns from then on. You didn't put that person in a weird situation and now they're being gendered correctly.
Let me give you an example that will hopefully make you feel better:
I have been wearing a pin on my lanyard at work for five months now with my pronouns. I work with about a hundred adults. Guess how many people use my pronouns? ONE.
Until the other day.
All of a sudden, my coworker started referring to me with my pronouns. And I was SO EXCITED! She didn't have to give an apology. She just needed to start respecting my identity.
All this to say: yes, it sucks to be misgendered, and in a perfect world we should never assume. But you're still LEARNING and if you've corrected yourself and do your best to do better from now on then, as long as this coworker is a decent person, they aren't mad. I promise!
Sending you lots of love and also maybe some forgiveness for yourself. <333
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
initial thoughts on DCAS episode 18
it means that you have to vow to love and cherish him in sickness and in health, for better or for wo--
...? like, i know that some of Riya's 9 wins are definitely due to the Yellow Team, but especially when combined with Riya's tendencies to sabotage and cheat her way through the game, i truly fail to see how Ally could possibly be considered the bigger threat. Jake when he's lying.
was anybody else really confused by them using the wrong rig in this scene? the hair tie already fell off AND Riya picked it up, there's no way it should still be on Connor's ankle.
i'm glad to see that Ally and Connor can still have fun together despite it all :)
see, and then this plan ALSO doesn't make sense because (if the animation rig was correct) Ally and Connor should have assumed that the hair tie found on the ground was the same one that fell off of Connor's ankle, meaning the Jake and Riya had equal opportunity to destroy the challenge. and in that case it DEFINITELY would have been Riya!!!
Derek and Trevor have been camping together before? that's not typically something you do with just a coworker. how long have these two actually known each other?
this line KILLED ME when i first watched it in the episode. "i need to take a break to spend time with the ones that matter, which definitively doesn't include you, pseudo-boyfriend. :) mind if i abandon you here while i hang out with people i like better than you? which includes a haunted marionette?"
genius reason to explain why Ally has Ashley, actually.
the fuck else was she supposed to do at this dead end
LET'S GO YAU MAN LOGIC!!! this has to be a reference to Survivor, right? although, my sister said that Yau Man advised people to hug the right wall.
I THOUGHT YOU GOT OVER THIS!!!!!!
this was really fun, actually :)
okay, so, uh... i didn't like this turn of events, obviously. i understand what they were going for: they wanted to re-raise the tension between Jake and Ally before the finale, both so that it's more up in the air of whether they can come together to defeat Riya, and to up the personal stakes if the finale does end in a 1-v-1 Jake vs Ally showdown. however, they shouldn't have done that by making Jake's character suddenly regress this hard out of nowhere.
i've enjoyed how Jake's character development has been taking a "two steps forward, one step back approach," because it feels more realistic than Jake only ever becoming a better person and never making any mistakes after he realized that he had a problem. however, this close to the end of the show, the viewers need to feel like the time that they've invested in watching Jake grow actually means something. if we think he's finally about to take one step forward to cross the finish line and instead he suddenly starts running backwards towards the start, we're going to start to question why we were ever rooting for him to win in the first place.
i know that part of the issue here is that i'm not taking into account that Jake may have preferred for Riya to win immunity over Ally, but as i explained beforehand, that decision doesn't make any sense. it especially doesn't make sense when the last thing we JUST saw with Jake was questioning if Connor would even want to keep Jake in the game over Ally. sure, you might prefer it if Riya wins and then you vote out Ally, but if you're insecure enough to believe that Connor might instead send the votes your way, it's smarter to play it safe and all vote for the easy target. Connor would obviously vote for Riya, and Jake could as well, meaning that in that situation Jake gets thrown into a tiebreaker at worst.
therefore, that means that this decision was a purely emotional one as opposed to a strategic one (as they tried to brand it), meaning that it feels like Jake has learned nothing despite copious amounts of time spent teaching him things. i don't think this was a good writing decision at all.
this was crazy actually. shouldn't she go to jail for this? either way, ConRiya is so over.
just want to reiterate that i don't have a conceptual problem with Jake regressing at all, i just don't think that he should have done it that hard or for seemingly no reason.
WAIT YEAH SHE'S OUTRIGHT SAYING IT HERSELF! how the hell is Ally a bigger threat than Riya?!
this is really interesting staging. despite being the one threatening Connor, Riya is smaller and lower in the frame. that makes the viewer subconsciously think that she has less power, which is kind of true, given that her villainous attitude has destroyed all of the lasting relationships she could have had. i wonder if it was intentional or not.
dude didn't you see the lie detector helmet challenge?
what happened... to you being worried that Connor would take Ally instead of you... and feeling remorse after being rude to Connor... and overall being insecure and anxious.......
alright, so despite my earlier complaining, i actually really like the decision to have Connor quite here. because, it's true, he couldn't win after his foot got broken! Connor's overall character arc has been accepting that he's aged and he can't always keep up with the young folks, so entrusting Riya's defeat to the younger generation is fitting. there are also some mirrors to how he felt that, with his business, a lot of power was handed to him that he didn't deserve, so now in the game he's taking that sentiment and stepping down from the blessed role of easily being taken to the final 3. speaking of parallels, there's also obviously the parallel between Connor quitting the game to save Riya in season 2, and now quitting the game in an attempt to ensure Riya's loss in season 3. that part is really fun!
i was really not enjoying this episode at the time that Riya won immunity, but with this ending, i'm a lot more positive/neutral on it overall. i think that the ending they wound up at is an ending well worth telling, but in many cases, the sacrifices they made along the way to get to this ending weren't necessarily worth it.
this screencap is pretty hype, ngl. also, as @venus-is-thinking again pointed out, it is true that this season started with 18 contestants, 6 of which were former finalists. thus, mathematically, it makes sense that 1/3 finalists before would be finalists again. i still overall wish that Riya wasn't a repeat finalist, but hopefully Riya's ~amazing~ performance in the finale will cause me to take back my words. not amazing winner, mind you. just amazing in terms of entertainment and payoff.
Derek has just been, like, a really cool dude for the latter half of this season. no wonder he has the moves to pick up Kristal and Trevor.
add another tally to the kiss jumpscare tally, boys!
this was very sweet, and also an indicator that krisrek is TOTALLY dead as a (canon) ship. to be honest, i wonder if they're supposed to have essentially broken up already, what with Kristal's exclusion of Derek as someone who matters. that would be a great instance of subtle storytelling.
#disventure camp#disventure camp spoilers#dcas#dcas initial thoughts#dcas spoilers#funny that the episode where i actually managed to catch the premiere as it happened resulted in me posting the initial thoughts super alte#my bad everyone i was busy with RR stuff and a personal project#also just a blog update because i feel like i should say it somewhere (even if this is a terrible place for visibility):#i really want to start rbing posts with constructive commentary again so hopefully i will start doing that soon :) like later today even
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bright White
Dan Fucks can’t remember what he was doing.
Everything’s hazy and bright, and vaguely tingly in a way that he’s not not sure is pleasurable, like when the Big Guy stands up after a long time and pins and needles start to fade—
Oh, poor Daniel. It’s been hard times for you, hasn’t it?
Yes, Dan thinks with a sense of injury. Yes, yes it has. Sugah’s was raided, and he’s been chased all over the city trying to help his mortal enemy, and then it turns out the Big Guy was dying except not really, and he’s been beat up by shock troopers, and he, he killed Chief Tightass—!
You’ve been through so much. More than any respectable business owner should, really. And who’s to blame for that?
Of course it’s all Conrad’s fault, he grumbles to himself. That little shit, putting those notes on his door saying that pleasure shouldn’t be the body’s sole motivator, as if Dan himself isn’t barely getting by on the illegal dribs and drabs of the smoothness of the Big Guy’s favorite pen, or getting his usual order of coffee served just right, the impersonal touches of a barber or a coworker, looking at old photos from college and remembering when times were better.
As if his mortal enemy had any right to come and lecture him, look down on him from his high horse of being oh so above the earthly pleasures Elias needed, Dan needed to get by!
I couldn’t agree more. It’s his fault you’re in this mess. His fault everything you’ve built is crumbling around you.
Why don’t you do something about it?
There is a weight in Dan’s hand.
When he looks down, he sees it’s a bit of pipe. Nasty, dirty thing, almost like he’s just picked it up off the ground. And so hard to focus on over that white glow in his chest—
Now, now, Daniel. Focus. The solution is at hand. Make Conrad Schintz go away, and everything will be better again.
The little shit is curled against a wall in front of him. His eyes are big and frightened. The DA has a firm grip on one arm so he can’t slip away like the rat he is.
Where’s…where’s…?
—ght it, please, Mr. Fucks! Mr. Fu—!
Go on Daniel. You’re a smart man. A business man. If you can’t use something to turn a profit, what do you do?
Dan feels himself walk forward, one leg dragging behind him slightly. It throbs in time with his heartbeat.
This is natural. This is right. Conrad should have died a long time ago, saved him and the others (what others?) the trouble of having to try and keep the snot-nosed brat alive. If it wasn’t for him, Dan wouldn’t be in this mess. This is just correction. How things were always meant to go.
Who cares if the little shit is crying? He’s doing that half the time anyway.
His arms are raising the pipe. His torso twisting for the perfect swing.
That’s right, Daniel. You get ri—
Dan Fucks smashes the pipe right into Mark Bition’s jaw.
The DA spins like a top, arms flying free. He drops like a stone, eyes rolled back in his head.
NO!
“You really think you can pull one over on me, hm?!” He rolls his shoulders, trying to shake loose the burn in his arms. “Think you can get away with your little tricks like you did with him?! I’m Dan Fucks!! My urges have urges, sometimes so strange yet pleasurable I barely understand them myself! And I have hated this little shit for so long, you think I’m going to just sit pretty with your stupid plans to just kill him and not show him how wrong he’s been?!? No, my friend, we are here for a revolution!! An uprising! Down with—ghhk!!”
The white light from his chest is almost blinding. It pounds through him, like the world’s most demented drum.
KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM
Dan grits his teeth around a scream. He needs to drop the pipe. His body won’t let him drop the pipe. Even just standing still, everything hurts—!
It’s not fair, he thinks dazedly. Donna’s the one who likes hard pain, not him.
He can hear Conrad and Justin shouting, as if from far away.
KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM
“Fu-Fucking run, you little shits!” He’s barely able to gasp out. “Go!! Can’t you see I’m—!”
There’s the almost pleasurable sensation of a solid blow to the back of his head.
As Dan drops into black, his eyes catch sight of a familiar pink coat, hands clutching a copper gun.
Imelda Pulse, he thinks nonsensically to himself as arms come around him, something warm and clutching behind him giving a boost of oxytocin before he hits the ground. Party of one.
He wakes up staring at the underside of Hunch Curio’s chin, the now almost familiar sensation of a cold steak cushioning his head.
Dan squints.
“Are you sure we’re not in heaven this time?” He asks, suspiciously.
Hunch’s head whips down to stare at him, and his face breaks into an incongruously delighted beam. “Oh, thank god! Guys, he’s back to normal again!”
There’s a flurry of activity and Dan’s headache immediately worsens in protest to all the figures crowding into his field of vision.
“Are y’sure?” Comes The Fix’s hard drawl, accompanied by a hard, if worried, stare. “Maybe we should ask him somethin’, just to be safe.”
“Mr. Fucks, what are your current thoughts on Conrad Schintz?” Anastasia looks as though she’s a second away from shoving her notebook in his face. “The readers of the Daily Observer would like to know.”
Dan grumbles, shutting his eyes. “He’s an obnoxious little shit. M’ mortal enemy. I’m going to drown this city in oxytocin one day, see how he likes it.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“I, I think that means he’s okay?” Imelda pipes up. When he cracks an eye open again, she’s hefting the copper pistol in her grip. “I can always hit him again. Now I’m thinking about it. If someone doesn’t stop me, I’m hitting him.”
Dan lets out a throaty purr of a laugh. “Careful dear, I’ll need a moment if I wanna appreciate this properly. Try to get me across the chest, okay?”
Everyone above him exchanges a look.
“Yeah, he’s absolutely fine.” Anastasia proclaims, dusting off her trench coat.
“Mister, Mr. Fucks?”
Dan lets out a groan. Please, give him five more minutes before he has to deal with—
He blinks to see his mortal enemy kneeling next to him, eyes big and watery. Justin’s laying his head on Dan’s legs, looking sorrowful as only a dog can.
Conrad sniffs, one hand scrubbing at his face. “Mr. Fucks, I’m, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see him, I should’ve—! I’m sorry, I—”
“God, Conrad, this is why people want to kill you.” Dan complains. “The, the constant apologizing! Do you have any idea how annoying that is?! If you really want to make it up to me, make the Big Guy quit his job and get laid!”
Conrad squeaks, mouth opening and closing. He seems to have been shocked out of his tears. “I—wh—?! Well, quitting might be good, but, but we can’t just—! An, and, I’m not opposed to, to, to the Big Guy having a relationship, but it shouldn’t just be—!”
Dan tries to flop one of his hands onto the little shit’s head. He’s pleased when his arm obeys with no outside interference, scruffing the hat down onto his little head.
“The revolution’s coming soon, Conrad.” He croaks wisely. “We’ll fill this city with so much oxytocin and dopamine the Big Guy’s gonna be useless. I’ll be rich. Well. Richer.”
For some reason that makes the little shit giggle.
Dan takes his hat in retaliation when he retracts his arm. He places the slightly-too-small headwear over his face, affects a lounging stretch that makes the back of his head (and his ankle for some reason?) twinge slightly, settling more comfortably in Hunch’s lap.
“I’m taking a nap.” Dan Fucks proclaims. “Wake me when you need my help saving the city.”
He’s rudely disturbed a moment later when Imelda whacks his chest with the pistol.
#dimension 20#dimension 20 spoilers#daniel fucks#danny fucks#dan fucks#conrad schintz#the psychometer#the key#da mark bition#mark bition#imelda pulse#hunch curio#the fix#anastasia tension#justin fication#this is entirely self indulgent#a what if scenario if you will#please brennan don’t let this actually happen#possession#brainwashing#dan fucks beats the psychometer through his hatred of a child#and communism
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I ask for Mediscout where Medic is talking about one experiment or the other because someone else asked about it and Scout retains the information, because well, sue him for being interested, it's interesting to hear the doctor talk (and if it gives him him reason to stay a little closer and watch a little longer, thats no ones business. Especially you, Spy.) And later, when someone asks what the newest idea from Medic is, Scout answers instead of Medic without thinking
Of course! Mediscout is one of my faves to write💞
Warnings: None!
Rating: General
Scout pulled his favorite seat out from the kitchen table as he sat down with his plate of breakfast. He scoots in between Heavy and Soldier, squished by the massive men as they eat their share. The youngest of the three takes a few bites, mindlessly eating before a faint voice grows louder.
“Why are you so worried? All I have to do is inject octopus skin cells into yours, and your cloaking will be seamless!” It was Medic, carrying several sheets of paper with diagrams, charts, and sporadic research. He was following Spy into the kitchen, and the Frenchman looked utterly sickened by the proposition.
“Doctor, I spent a minimum of an hour exfoliating, moisturizing, and beautifying my skin. I will not have my work destroyed by…whatever it is you plan.” Spy, admittedly, tuned out the doctor’s rambling. He isn’t the first of their team to do so though. Whenever Medic goes on and on about his discoveries or experiments, most of the team has learned to drone him out. Even Heavy is guilty of losing focus when Medic word vomits his projects.
“You’re being irrational! The octopus cells go underneath your normal skin. I can manipulate them into becoming part of your body, and once the burning sensation fades, you will be the best Spy in the world!” Medic holds out one paper, hoping it would at least persuade Spy into reconsidering. He spent a whole month developing this! Sure, its still highly experimental and could potentially leave Spy with an unsavory complexion, but that’s science! Anyone with a brain can see why they should absolutely trust his work.
“The answer is no. A squid has no place in my body except when I order calamari. Good day.” Spy swipes his plate of breakfast, reaching past Scout to grab the jar of marmalade set on the table. Toast smeared with the sweetness, he promptly leaves the team to enjoy their food. Scout rolls his eyes at the rude parting. He could at least think on it and give Medic’s work a bit of validation.
The man works tirelessly, day and night to improve the team. Scout has found him passed out in his office, hair astray and face tucked into his arms. So many times he wanted to reach out and brush the strands back into place, but he can’t! That’s too weird. Coworkers don’t play with each other’s hair, unless they’re hairdressers. Scout is pretty sure neither of them are in that profession.
“Octopus.” Medic mutters his correction, stacking his papers into a neat pile and heading back to the lab. He gives a disheartened sigh. Maybe he should have offered to do a test strip of skin. Somewhere on Spy’s arm to visualize the comparison and reconsider. He just gets so excited!
“Mornin’, lads.” Demo proclaims to the kitchen as he struts towards the fridge. He rummages through it for a moment before producing a bottle of morning whiskey. With a quick pour into a cup of coffee, he slips the alcohol back inside the fridge and takes a gulp of his drink.
“What was that thing Medic was talking about?Something with seams.” Engineer drums his finger against the table, trying to recall what the man was planning. As his silence grows, he desperately looks for help. Soldier is stuffing his face, Sniper is pretending to sleep, and Heavy is taking far too long to sip his water.
“Doc wants to put octopus skin on Spy to make his invisibility better, but the Frenchie is too fancy for it.” Right as Scout finishes his explanation, he sees the doctor standing in the doorway. His trip back from the clinic was shorter than anticipated, and Scout feels his face burning up. God, he sounded like such a geek just now, and not for the experiment.
Medic stares at the young man in shock and a bit of adoration. Since when did Scout ever listen to him, or anyone for that matter? The runner revolves around himself, focused on his own greatness and incredible strength, which he completely lacks. Everyone comes second to Scout, so how did he perfectly encapsulate Medic’s experiment when no one else could?
“Ja, he’s right.” Medic takes a closer look at Scout. His cheeks are tinted red, and his left hand is shaking more than the right. His head stays lowered as he shovels the last bite of breakfast into his mouth. Before Medic gets a chance to ask how Scout remembered, the man is rushing away. Once again, Scout is too quick for the German.
“Uh, see ya.” Oh, that won’t do. Someone finally gives Medic the time of day to listen, and they try to run off? Not on this doctor’s watch. Breakfast shoved in the fridge for later, Medic’s white lab coat flutters behind him as he hurries after Scout. His leather boots clacking against the floor with every step.
To no one’s surprise, Scout tries to run. His walk turns into a jog, rounding corners with too sharp of turns. Medic huffs, following right on his heels. Scout might be the fastest class, but there’s only so many turns he can make before hitting a wall, which he does. Literally. Too distracted by dodging the German, Scout smacked face first into the wall leading to the showers.
“Scout? May we speak?” Medic calls out as the boy cups his sore nose. Scout presses to the offending surface, unable to pull away as the doctor steps closer. His gloved fingers adjust the circle glasses framing his gray eyes. Scout gulps, trying not to look him in the eye. Damnit, why is he so attractive?
“I want to thank you for listening. It seems as if you’re the only one these days.” That little praise does Scout in. His blushing face goes fully red, and he slinks against the wall. Damnit, damnit! Focus, Scout! Its just Medic. Why is he so weird about the man as of late?
“Yeah, well, uh, you know me! I’m the pro at listening. Like, you see these ears? Always open and listening. Its my middle name actually. Well, no, my Ma picked Tyler, but if I could make it my middle name—“ And he’s off, spilling tangent by tangent. Scout looks up to see if Medic was bored of him, yet the doctor remains neutral. In fact, Scout can even see a smile forming on his face. The American nervously laughs, not used to such a positive face during his rambles.
“Ja, you are very good. It’s sweet of you, actually. ‘Keep at it’ as they say, hase.” Medic leans in, pressing lips right to Scout’s forehead. His latex hand cups his cheek as if Scout would try to run from this. The boy is completely frozen, mouth agape with those adorable buck teeth sticking out. Such a cute little bunny.
“Uh, uh, you-y-you got it, doc. I’m gonna, uh, get you back for this though. You better be ready, cause I’m a ninja. I got a black belt in kissing.” It’s actually a blue one from when he tried karate as a boy before discovering baseball. An awkward grin forms as Medic turns to leave.
“Oh, how frightening! I hope you show mercy, Herr Scout.” Medic grins, walking away as Scout tries to collect himself. He’ll be waiting for that kiss, and he certainly hopes its when Scout checks in on the doctor during his late nights in the office.
Hope you enjoyed this!! -H
#this was so cute shsjshsh#mediscout#quick fix#tf2 scout#tf2 medic#team fortress 2#tf2 requests#tf2 oneshot
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
Very sincerely & frustrated at the system:
The bar for men (and those perceived as such) is on the floor. I’m talking about kindness to customer service workers, helping people who ask.
As a trans masc autistic person who has been on T for almost a year & a half, as someone who has crossed the grey area & is now fully assumed AMAB*, I’m hyperaware of gender norms & expectations. I’m learning on the fly what most people assume I already know. And this is one of the things I’m aware of, and don’t like (to say the least).
(* I got blessed with androgynous genes + I like having longer hair, but I’m also ✨unfortunately endowed✨, so most people can’t tell if I’m trans masc, trans fem, or just an effeminate/queer man, & I don’t care to correct any of them. I basically pass as ‘question-mark something not-cisgendered’, but I do pass enough thanks to facial hair & body weight distribution to be assumed assigned/accused male now.)
The relief on a cashier’s face when I don’t yell at them for messing something up, & their anxiety as they realize it was messed up. The relaxing of shoulders when they hear me say “please”.
The way that one of the residents (an old man) at a potential job (disabled/elderly care) smiles at me for how kind I am when I ask him how to get the receptionist’s attention without screaming for them or something else I would consider rude. The way how I say please & thank you to a desk receptionist, & they immediately gush about how much of a gentleman I am. The way the employees come out of the back to greet me because the receptionist was gushing.
The way that people of all genders smile when I hold open the door & mumble a thank you (especially men). The way (in reverse) they blink when I say thank you.
The way people tell me how well-dressed I am, in just a t-shirt & form-fitting sweatpants, because my clothes are clean with no visible holes (let’s be real, most of my stuff has small holes; I thrift), & because my hair has minimal effort put into it (shampoo & conditioner, combed/half-heartedly styled (it doesn’t take a lot, my hair is curly & loves to do its own thing)). The way they’re pleasantly surprised that I show up to interviews or appointments having actually showered beforehand.
There’s more I can’t think of right now. But the grooming standards are on the floor, as are the communication standards.
For contrast, before I crossed the threshold, here are the same types of situations:
I won’t lie that cashiers are always relieved when you don’t yell at them. But the please & thank you are expected & don’t cause any relief or response.
The way I would ask people the same type of questions (how to get the receptionist’s attention) & either be ignored or (if they did help) get checked out by someone twice (or more) my age. The way I was expected to say please & thank you, & got side looks if I forgot (I usually didn’t, but after daily contact with coworkers, if I was sleep deprived I might forget).
The way men got annoyed if I opened/held the door for them, & if possible opened the other door to avoid going through the one I opened.
The absurd grooming standards of what you’re “allowed” to wear, how styled & perfect your hair should be, & even the expectation to wear makeup & people (including potential employers) getting annoyed/angry when I didn’t. (I was never that into makeup 🤷♂️.)
And to be clear, I live in a “liberal”/blue-ish area. I don’t live in a state that’s known for hard gender divides, strict rules, harsh criticism of deviance. I know some places are worse, or even much worse (one of my ex-gfs lived in northern Idaho &...yeah).
Some places are probably better, especially big cities or safe states for LGBT+ people. But my state, overall a safe place for trans people, is still incredibly transphobic & gendered.
And to anyone who sees this: If you’re masculine/a man & you can raise the standards, please do. If you date / are attracted to men or masculine people, please don’t tolerate/accept subpar treatment. It isn’t too much to expect respect.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
The love at time of the World Cup- John Stones
Request: Could the reader work with both Manchester City and England as a photographer (feel free to add any position)? They have a good friendship for a while, but he totally has a crush on her. They didn't have a chance to have a proper chat until they were traveling to Qatar for the World Cup. Maybe the lads will always tease him about it, and Dave the Cat could be a supporting actor too.
Warning: something extra fluffy I guess?
Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @johnstonesfc @stonesyy @prideofpd
Is there something more cliché than being an employeee for a big football club and fall in love with one of the players? Maybe yes but that was exactly how the story between you and John went and it was like a fairytale to you.
You would blush madly every time you made eye contact with him and the little smile that came across his lips afterwards made your cheeks turn even redder, hiding then behind your camera to go back to your working duties, hoping the lense would be able to catch his beautiful smiley features instead of your own eyes.
The start of it was a bit rough as you were really, really shy and wouldn't dare to approach any of the players, fearing you would have bothered them so you just stuck to what your job required you to do.
John, on his part, would take every given occasion to share a word with you, even for a small and casual "how are you?" but nothing more happened as it was kind of hard having a real conversation.
"Mate, why don't you ask her out instead of eating her with your eyes??" Kyle asked, blurted out better, John seeing as his friend couldn't keep his stare away from you for too long.
"Shut up mate!" John tried to shush him because he felt embarrassed and, above all, didn't want you to hear.
"Why should I?? You both clearly like each other, you keep flirting and you're both embarrassing, you're a match made in heaven!" He joked, playfully shoving the City defender.
“She’s kinda shy, what if she’s too embarrassed to say yes?”
“You scared of that? Really? She won’t ever say no, she’s so into you”
John sighed, his stare fixed on you who were chatting with one of the guys of the social team.
“And I know you’re mad about that guy who’s making her laugh right now”
John blushed and smirked, that smirk meaning his friend’s supposition was highly correct: he would have liked to punch that man right in the face, even though he didn’t do anything wrong except for the fact he was doing what he should have been doing, making you laugh.
"Come on!" Kyle jokingly pushed John closer to you, the whole situation making him kind of embarrassed.
The first thing that came to his mind was talking about work as you were part of City's first then England's social media team and you just recorded that funny interview he and Kyle just gave.
"Hey" The City player walked closer to you and your coworker, ready to take his place.
"Hi John! What's up? The interview was so good, the fans will love it!" You really were happy with the outcome so it came out as something natural to compliment him.
"Yeah, thanks" He blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck "It was fun, you had such a good idea"
Now it was your turn to blush as you weren't expecting that compliment from him.
After that first real conversation you had together, you had started talking on the phone too as you both couldn't go a day without each other's texts as they soon became the highlight of your day.
The Euro 2020 was the occasion for you to spend more time together as you were offered a place in the England's social media team and you didn't want to miss the opportunity for the world as it would have been such an important shift in your career
What brought you unexpectedly closer was the presence of a kitten that liked to spend his days near the team's hotel, waiting for some of the players to pet him and among them there was John.
"I'm deadly allergic to cats but this one is so cute I wanna pet him"
"I don't wanna take you to the hospital or something so stay away from him"
"You care more about me or about the cat?"
"Why are you asking that?"
"Just answer" You giggled, teasing him.
"The cat of course" He joked, winking at you.
"We should find him a shelter"
"Indeed…I'll take care of him for now"
"Hey you two already adopted a cat! Your relationship is going very well from what I see!" Eric shouted seeing you really close to each other, sharing the cat.
“We are not sharing anything” You chuckled, walking away as the blush that tinted your cheeks spoke for itself, before the boys could make fun of you.
It wasn’t the truth that you two weren’t sharing anything because you soon came to share his lips as they pressed the softest kiss on yours that night, the sweetest goodnight kiss ever.
You were officially a couple, making everyone around you cheer the moment you decided to make things official.
That was only the first kiss you would get from him as he took every given occasion to steal kisses from you: trapping you inside empty rooms only to give you a quick peck, waiting for everyone to leave so he could squeeze your hands and kiss you goodbye before leaving for the next game. It could safely said that you turned into his lucky charm.
The stolen kisses soon became some kind of ritual the British player couldn't go without, taking it to Manchester too.
The summer of 2021 was the moment everything started, the moment you realised you were made for each other but the Qatar World Cup was what sealed the intensity of your relationship: the year and a half in between the two international competitions went on smoothly as you started dating without hiding, met the respective families and shared a house.
As you were there in the stands watching the players warming up in the insufferably hot Qatari weather, you relived the whole timeline of your love story all over again. That caused you to sigh contentedly because, after more than a year, you were still there and going strong.
"I'm so proud of you" You breathed in his neck as his hot tears soaked your shoulder. "You did so well, I love you so much"
Even though a lot of things changed some of them stayed the same: as it happened in 2021, a cat was still there playing cupid and his teammates were still there making fun of him for being so hopelessly in love. The only thing that changed was that the cat, he and Kyle renamed Dave, made it to Instagram, becoming a worldwide sensation and that you were bearing his child but he didn’t know it yet.
Another thing stayed the same though: England didn't make it to the end of the tournament, losing the final back in 2021 and facing the quarter-final exit against France this time, but you were still there for him, waiting for him with your arms open to welcome him in the safest place you could offer. The only difference was that you could have done it out in the open now, not fearing anyone’s judgement or some tabloids slamming stolen pictures of you two on their covers under some nasty headline.
"Take me home"
"We'll go soon baby, I promise"
His sadness and disappointment made your eyes teary too as you couldn't bear seeing him like that.
"There'll be better times, everything's gonna be alright" You kept whispering in his hair, placing kisses among his curls.
John finally tilted up his head, his beautiful green eyes, made even more beautiful by the glossy layer his tears had been applying to them, looking right into yours. You were the only person who could’ve kept him sane and you would’ve done everything possible to take care of him who was nothing but a frail man who needed all the love in the world.
"I love you"
"I love you more"
#john stones#john stones imagines#john stones fics#john stones fanfictions#mcfc#manchester city#premier league#premier league imagines#premier league fics#england nt#england nt imagines#england nt fics#football imagines#football fics#football fanfictions#footie fics
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just had a thought, about the post of Santi's obsession going to Morell and he just took her back to Santi.
What if, instead of Morell, they went to Belos? The angel who despises Santi and other demons, and ask him to free them? I don't imagine that to end much better but what if?
Belo can't get your mark off. He's only a "power" ranked angel, perhaps a "seraphim" would be more... Suitable for this type of endeavor.
Belo does feel slightly bad for you, it must be a special type of torture to be subservient to a lust demon who defiles your body whichever way he pleases, forcing you to enjoy and crave it, it makes the angel shudder with disgust. Unfortunately, that very same demon happens to be his coworker, and things between them are tense as is, he's been specifically instructed by his lord to "not disrupt workflow with petty quarrels", and that is what he shall do. In Belo's eyes, even if he takes no pleasure from your pain, you're still rather insignificant in the big picture, Belo's able to turn a blind eye to your suffering for the sake of not disappointing his siadar.
If ever Belo sees things heading really south between you and Santi, or if you come to him for help several times, he will give you one of his feathers. The calamus is longer and sharper than it should be. He tells you to hide it. When you feel it's the correct time, stab it into Santi's chest. It won't kill him, but it will incapacitate the demon greatly.
Belo knows this will get him into trouble with both Krulu and Santi, but he just couldn't... Couldn't watch it go on after you asked him for help. He doesn't know who you can go to in order to remove that mark, and frankly he doesn't have much faith you'll succeed, but he hopes you get lucky.
56 notes
·
View notes