#How do I say no in the bitchiest way possible

[michael-monroe]

GUYS!! My sister just asked me if Raz was single 😭

[tenebrous-academic]

About the previous anon. I agree that we did get something but felt like we didn't get anything (?) to indicate their relationship status. I'm not wording this correctly. I mean we know they've been together for a while, *possibly* spending the night at eo's, but at the same time buck haven't talked about tommy apparently? (Idk if it's just bobby or the 118).

It feels like they're still in the testing things out/dating area and not boyfriends just yet, which is fine really.

But I'm hoping the hospital scene is gonna be a step for them getting closer, tommy being there for buck to relay on and get the support and comfort from him. It's gonna be a waste not to use this scene to advance their relationship.

I really hope next episode provides some solid information as to their canon status too! But buckle up because I’m about to overanalyze the fuck out of the scenes we did get:

Based off of this episode, I think it’s safe to say they’ve been seeing each other for at least a few months. During the award ceremony it was mentioned the cruise ship disaster happened “last March.” I didn’t see anything showing what month it current is, but based off the wording we can at least assume enough time has passed for it to be considered last year and not “this March.” That gives the relationship at least 3-5 months depending on how long it took Buck to work up to courage to call Tommy for the first tour of the harbour.

Buck and Tommy have also been together long enough for Tommy to feel comfortable enough to talk about how he was treated by Captain Gerrard and, likely, how he behaved around Chim and Hen back then. I wish we could have actually seen that, as well as the scenes between Tommy, Chim, and Hen hashing things out to make sure there’s no bad blood, but all we have are these new interactions showing all of them as friends now and the past firmly behind them.

But!!! What we did get this episode!

Buck softly signing when he sees Tommy getting his award and beaming like a proud partner.

Buck and Tommy being in sync as they walk around the station together.

Buck giving his bitchiest glare to Gerrard and putting his body between his man and that piece of filth (Chim is iconic for that new nickname).

We also get Buck shown as Tommy’s family/loved one during the ceremony. A clear pattern is established with Hen getting her medal and Karen and the kids clapping, Chimney getting his medal and Maddie clapping, and then Tommy getting his medal and the camera panning over to Buck as he breathes deeply and glows in pride for Tommy. (I also acknowledge that Eddie is shown after Buck gets his medal, but the show has established that Eddie and Chris are family to Buck so I don’t think there’s anything to shippy about it).

He hasn’t talked to Bobby about it, and we don’t know if he’s been talking to anyone else, but we do know that it’s not a secret. That hospital kiss was his announcement and maybe he’s happy with that being the extent of it. I think Buck is the kind of person to keep his happiness to his chest a little bit longer to make sure that it’s his and not everyone else’s. Which I know goes against his past relationships and how he’s always talked about them - but Tommy feels different, so the way Buck would treat their relationship would be different too. It’s something he was to protect and nurture and he doesn’t feel the need to ask his family about it because he already knows the answers.

So, yeah, definitely not as much as I would have liked, but the pieces of their relationship ship we did get were pretty indicative of something solid and meaningful being built between them. I’m crossing every finger the finale gives us more though. We’re being given scraps and I think we’re all going a little feral over the lack of anything truly substantial.

[fyodors--ushanka]

okay but seriously, does this classify?

My mom is a bitch, but thats fine. I just hate being chastised for acting like a child as a child. I was watching my cat feed her kittens and I said "Hey mom! Isn't Oshikba such a good mom? just look how cute she is." and rather than responding with "Yeah" or "yes," She says "Whatever," in the bitchiest way possible. It isn't the fact she said whatever that makes me upset, its the fact she had to be a bitch about it. This happens alot, and I understand she has a job and is a single mother of 3, but Im 15, my brothers are 6. Of course she will be tired, but I've been taking care of shopping, watching my brothers, and 1 mother cat, plus her 7 kittens for days now and she gets mad at me for actually being happy. She's a good mom, moved us from Russia to the US, but she's kinda toxic (I might just be misunderstanding, seeing as I apparently do that often.) I'm being reprimanded for essentially being human. Her love and other affection (like hugs or praise) seems kinda on and off. Is this relationship something that classifies as toxic? She's not abusive, though she has called me fat and didn't let me get seconds on the first thing I ate that day, which was dinner because I had been out cleaning and gardening all day.

[sanderssidesthehouse]

for the bingo thing?? how about logan??

- lots of love, rayn 🤍

Thanks for the ask, Ryan! I can absolutely do my favorite boy, apologies for my lack of hinges.

I think Logan is probably the most trustworthy, not bc none of the others wouldn't try their darnedest, but bc he also wouldn't get distracted and he's very capable and nor very impulsive generally.

I don't think anyone can quantify the sheer amount of Logan angst I have read, which is a fantastic marker for how much I like him. I relate to him so hard. I was always smart (and got called a robot frequently) but I have trouble with the emotional stuff. Identifying emotions is not my strong suit so sometimes I'll be straight chilling but start crying and have no idea why.

Also he has eldest daughter syndrome for real. Someone please help my boy.

Also one of the few cases where we could fix each other. If Logan Sanders told me he was proud of me I would shatter into a million pieces and reform into a better person. If he gave me a pat on the back and told me everything would be ok I'd say I'm yours in whatever way you want me. Lab partner? Done, I'll bring PPE. Help with work? I'm not that smart but I'll try. Wanna make out about it? My tongue's already in his mouth. Who said that?

Also, hi, he is so fucking tragic. Everytime he is ignored he takes it as a personal failure and if anything ever happened to c!Thomas that he could have prevented if he had been listened to it would destroy him, even if he literally did everything he could. c!Thomas cannot function without his Logic, we all know this. He's trying so hard, but he's not getting far at all and it really does matter. And this is why he feels like he can't ever be silly or have fun bc the weight of his world is on his shoulders and I'm not crying about it I swear.

I also need everyone to acknowledge the growth he's gone through. Whenever something gets brought to his attention and he sees that he needs to work on it, it doesn't happen that episode sometimes, but he does change his methods or behavior. He's trying so hard. That's what really gets me is his genuine, honest, whole-hearted effort that he puts into everything he does. That's my BOY.

Another thing really gets me is how absolutely tender Logan can be. Like Mr. No Emotions rolls up and does his best to provide comfort and care even though it's not his strong suit and he knows it (though he will try to defer to someone who's better at it if possible). This is absolutely related to how genuine he can be, which makes his current state devastating to me. Bitter cynicism is not what I want him to feel like he has to do! He's always been a little sarcastic and a little petty, but like in a way that didn't make me concerned for his mental health. He had such a beautiful outlook at the beginning but it's long since started to crumble. I hope he's not left with ruins.

I have so much to say, I don't think I'll ever be done. I really want to talk about what a dork he is. 'Cogitating cap'? I'm in love with him. I could never argue with him like 'whatever you say bbgirl'. Except for when he's doing that 'I don't have emotions' routine. I need all of them to stop lying to each other and themselves.

Right, so current state of canon thoughts. I need him to have the bitchiest, pettiest, rawest break down imaginable. He deserves to let it out and I want it to be explosive. I want him to do something they can't ignore.

Just in case I want to be clear, I don't think he's perfect and he's not the only one getting ignored. He is absolutely not the only one denying his feelings and I need ALL of them to cut that shit out. Also any annoyance expressed is at the character as a 'person' not the narrative, I really like how everything is being written and explored. That 'done dirty by canon' mark was hesitant and now I can't even remember why I put it there. I'm sure I'll remember in the middle of the night, I've had a long day lol.

Thanks again for the ask, and as always, absolutely anyone and everyone is welcome and invited to agree or disagree or ask for clarifications or expansions. I tried to keep it short and tbh compared to the amount of thoughts I have, I succeeded.

[coal15]

Here's an excerpt from my Good Omens fic All Roads Lead Back:

Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death is having a slow day. Only a trickle of customers since morning. Nina passes the time with a book of crossword puzzles until Crowley yanks open the door with cranky flourish and steps inside. 

“Glad to see you’re back in town, Mr.Crowley. How is life treating you?”

“How is life treating me?” The Demon snarls, approaching with a vicious glare. “Well let’s see: however many thousand years ago I fell in love, didn’t realise it, did realise at some point-kind of sort of-had no intention of saying anything, but then a pair of pushy lesbians talked me into saying something and then I got my heart yanked out, trampled over, and chucked in the bin!” He slaps a hand on the counter, beaming the bitchiest fake smile known to man. “And you?”

“What?!” Nina gasps, genuinely stunned. “Mr.Fell rejected you, how is that even possible? The two of you were over the moon for eachother, any fool could see it!”

“Aaaaah, but see it turns out Mr.Fell still wasn't over his incredibly annoying Heaven fetish.”

“Heaven what?”

“Long story." Crowley waves off the question. "Literally the longest in the world.”

Nina punts aside her puzzle book and leans over, arms crossed on the counter. “Okay . . . what exactly did you say to him?”

“I said bloody everything, Nina.” Crowley growls the woman’s name through clenched teeth. “I told him about how I think we’ve spent our entire existence pretending not to be a thing and that I didn’t want to do it anymore, and how we should run away together to be an actual, happy, us!”

“But did you tell him the most important bit?” Nina asks with an upraised eyebrow.

Crowley takes a small step back and frowns. “Whassat, what d’you mean?”

“I mean did you say ‘I love you’?”

He continues backing away from the counter, sputtering awkwardly and feeling rather put off. “I, I-you stupid woman, I begged him to choose me! BEGGED! And kissed him!”

“Sooooooo what I’m hearing is you didn’t say I love you?”

Crowley is infuriated beyond measure at how sideways this conversation has gone. He’d only intended to stomp in, yell for a minute, and stomp back out. “Did you miss the bit where I KISSED HIM?!” He bellows. “What more could I have done?!” 

“Said ‘I love you’ for starters. Put those three words together and they go a long way most of the time.”

********************go HERE to read the rest.

[kyriat-stories]

- Noor, do you want to move back home? If you do, our door is always open.

- No! Somehow, I will have to find a solution, I just don’t know how.

- I think you should try to talk with Kyrios Orlavidd. I’m sure he knows his son, and his weaknesses, so maybe he understands better than you think? And if not, it’s good to know exactly how he stands.

- But what is he going to do?

- I don’t know Noor, but it never hurts to listen to what he says.

The opportunity came the same night, and Noor tried to explain to her father-in-law the problems with the finances, the lack of support and the drinking, and that maybe he thought it was Noor’s fault.

- There is no surprise in what you are telling me. I don’t think it’s your fault, but I think that there are things you do that doesn’t help.

- But I’m trying so hard to be good and kind and don’t nag, Noor stuttered

- I know. Maybe it’s better to do this: Tell him that you’ve had enough. That you don’t accept this kind of behavior. That you will stop cooking for him and cleaning his clothes, unless he gives you what you need to run the household. And tell him you will leave him, and take Pamesijos with you, if he doesn’t sharpen up. I will support you in my own way, don’t worry about that.

A few days later Noor found the courage and put up her bitchiest face possible, and told her husband a lesson.

- ... and this time I mean it, Telamon. Sharpen up!

- Why should I care! Telamon answered back annoyed, I’ve had it with your yelling!

- I see. So you are not even going to try to change?

- I’m gonna tell you one thing...

They were interrupted by laud knocking on the door.

It was Usas, the lyra-player and his wife Surá, the parents of Noor’s good friend Apsara. They looked upset.

- Kyria Noor, we hope you can help us with a very difficult and delicate situation. It’s about Ikadera, Aspara’s younger sister.

- Oh yes? How is she?

- At the moment she is fine, but we are very worried, and that’s why we are here.

.

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[novaauster]

HELLOOOOOOOOO im reading the narines fic and thought id live react here bc i just KNOW im gonna have THOUGHTS let's go!

"The prince--king--piece of shit-- is obsessed" off the bat i love your nate characterisation like his povs always have that snarky edge to them and u got that off the bat

"He’s in his dressing gown. White silk, tied with a wound-dark sash at his waist, open down the navel. His snake, Kidaro, is slung around his neck like a priest’s stole, warming itself on his skin." THIS FREAK RIGHT HERE HAS CAUSED EVERYONE ALL MANNER OF PROBLEMS TONIGHT. TOXIC YAOI WONT FIX HIM BUT IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL BETTER ABOUT IT ALL

"a fanatic to the hate that he inherited" LOVE this wording

THEY'RE SUCH CUNTS TO EACH OTHER I LOVE IT

IT'S THE KIND OF DARKNESS YOU PRAY TO HMMMM

the way the signs of respect and fear are overlapping ohhhh i love that

'“It is a small room in which nobles and officials debate policy decisions…” Herines launches into an automatic explanation before remembering who he’s talking to. “You’ll see, raven.”' actually laughed out loud at this bc it's SO HIM. herines is a nerd first tyrant second

THE FIREEEEEEEEEE OMG

"A clear-headed Herines is a dangerous Herines, one that looks at him, curious, like something to dissect, one that could figure out that Nate can heal himself but he can’t regrow an amputation. He can’t survive a decapitation, and Herines’ dagger is long enough to try it." your writing is so captivating im literally here like OMG WHAT NEXT at every sentence they're CRAZY crazy

"'I fucked your brother" THE WAY MY HANDS FLEW TO MY MOUTH. INSANEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE IM GOING INSANE

'declawed' is an excellent way of describing nate when he hits his exhaustion

NATE IS GETTING BATTERED RN OH MY GOD MY BOY GET UPPPP YOU'RE EMBARRASSING US 😭

also having nate repeatedly break his bones to escape his restraints is such a cool move bc it's SO something he would do

"What made you?" "You did." YOU'RE PAYING FOR MY THERAPY

THAT WAS A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. YEAH I BASHED HIS FACE IN WITH AN OIL LAMP AND HE KILLED ME WITH THE SASH OF MY OWN ROBE BUT WE ALSO FUCKED NASTY. WE EXIST

genuinely that was so so so good i literally had heart palpitations i was so excited i cant believe there's tbos fic on ao3 now im losing my MINDDDDDDDDDDDd i will reread this 5 more times tonight probably

omg tysm!!!!

nate's characterization is extremely fun, if there is one word i'd use to describe it's instigator. he's not stupid but he will always say the bitchiest thing possible at any possible moment and i love him for it. rin is also such a freak i can't fathom what is wrong with him. what mommy issues will do to an mf in charge of a country on the verge of civil war. i was extremely proud of the fanatic line

"it's the darkness you pray to" was also a fun one, yeah. nate's relationship with the gods that gave him his powers and then abandoned him. darkness, something that might be profound and beautiful, but still by definition hinders any human. the overlap between respect and fear as a result of nate's trauma as an oppressed wiser and a violent rebel

rin's nerdiness was just delightful. like yes he wants to dissect nate like a cow's eyeball and yes he uses his intelligence for evil. but that is by nurture, by nature he's just curious. and it was very intentional that the things that make him snap are the thought that nate might've hurt drako and then later that nate is hurting kidaro

"declawed" was definitely a choice of words, i was googling "synonyms for harmless" because harmless is not at all how i would describe him, and eventually it came to me. and yeah he's really getting battered. it's hard to balance or strike with your hands cuffed behind your back. F in the chat for my boy

"what made you" "you did" the drama. the intimacy. the way rin is searching in the wisers for an origin to the cracks in his family but his family made the cracks in the wisers instead. nate might be an instigator but rin is a tyrant and he sees that when he looks in the mirror. they're character foils your honor

again, thanks for the ask!! :-D

[engagemythrusters]

time to watch what is, I am assuming, the most fucked up shit to ever happen to Mr Crosshair CT9904

God I’m excited to finally see him again!

LOOK IRS MY LITTLE BITCH

Retirement huh

“CT-9904, you’re out of uniform” (puts on helmet in the bitchiest way possible)

I hate this guy. Look am at him. He’s so punchable

OHHHH crosshair beeing snappy about clone hare

Also yeah I wanna punch that guy

But god I think… crosshair finally… finally realising how sucky the empire is…

Crosshair and his bigass backpack

Oh my god I can’t see why is everything so dark

BEARD CLONE

handsome boy!

I love this commander clone

YOU LITTLE BITCH YOU IDIOT I hate you lieutenant nolan

Oh god… oh god the line of helmets… oh god my heart breaks

Mayday I love you <3

The hesitance before he says crosshair… smthn smthn analysis time for me later

I love his wrapped armour

OH NO His eyes!!! He’s gotta be extra sensitive to that poor guy

WAIT NO

He just shot MAYDAY DIDNT HE

O H N O

Okay mayday looks okay… so maybe not…Thank GOD.

In my defense it looked like the person was wrapped up the way mayday was. So. Uh yeah. A few minutes of panick tee em there.

Oh no… oh the lines of helmets… god it kills me.

I am going to kill Nolan with my bare hands

OH MY GOD HE STOLE ARMOUR

oh fod he’s standing on a mine

There’s a lot of “oh gods” that I’m saying but it’s so true

“I could use the distraction” sir you’re disarming a mine. Please pay attention to that 😂

MAYDAY 😂 stop toying with crosshair Jesus

“They’re… gone.” They don’t HAVE to be baby you can just go HOME to them :’(

Maybe between Cody and Mayday… maybe…

literally the last ep of this season is called 99 right? So…

God I’m crossing my fingers… and my hairs haha pun that’s bad hehe ugh

SKDJRKS the sass between the two 😂

Oh boy the anksieties.

Crosshair gets a frien—

Oh my GOD WAIT.

No the All Quiet On The Western Front reference theh made…

MAYDAY IS GOING TO DIE ISNT HE…

F U C K

No mayday baby pls don’t go there no no no I don’t want you to die :(

(Soundtrack is scratching some itches in my brain tho)

God I’m so nervous :(

Okay he’s alive… maybe… maybe I’m wrong…

“We’re good soldiers. We followed orders.” Oh god I’m. My heart is breaking. He didn’t even have that order to follow and it was still activated for him anyway. How much did that change him? How much did he have to push through to be himself again?

Oh NOOO

Noooo mayday…

My heart is breaking I can’t do this oh my god

Hehe okay the arms did make me laugh through the tears hehe

Okay I have to pause for work purposes but just know I’m dying inside rn

RIP it did not save the rest of my reactions. I did come back and finish up but evidently what I wrote after all got deleted. Big frustrating ngl. i wanted to come back to this when the end of the season came to see how this compared to that.

But anyway. That ending cut me up so badly... my heart is aching my whole chest hurts. Crosshair... he is going through so much and now he has to go through more... they're going to make him hunt the rest of the bad batch again, aren't they? To get Omega to make Nala Se work again... PLEASE hasn't he suffered ENOUGH?! Why can't he be saved... why can't they save him... I can't do this. Please save him...

Good ep? I don’t know. My whole chest aches.

[trickstarbrave]

Or maybe other people should just learn to deal with criticism like mature adults instead of throwing whiny temper tantrums and acting like a child. "Don't say anything if it isn't nice!" is a cute idea for children but not everyone should coddle your feelings. You won't improve if you only listen to what you want to hear.

anon it's true at a certain point in your creative journey you need to grow thicker skin enough to not take everything said personally. I've seen people take well meaning criticism that was entirely fair that they asked for and throw a tantrum over it saying "well obviously you hate everything I made!!" digging their heels in and refusing to improve no matter how nicely people point out the flaws holding them back, even when said flaws get in the way of them finish a project

but also people need to like. learn how to take criticism just as much as ppl learn to give it. it's a skill. and as i said in the post are they even coming to you for critique and advice? do you want to see them succeed? are you creating a safe place to give and even receive criticism yourself? creating spaces that foster them to explore new ideas and try out what was suggested in critique? the goal of critique is to foster new ideas, gain new perspective, and be encouraged to try something new so you can execute the best version of your idea as possible. not to rip someone to shreds for doing it "the wrong way"

or are you being as fucking rude to them as you are to me? because if you are treating most people you try to critique like this they are going to quit. they won't feel safe trying out your advice and getting it "wrong" again just so you or someone like you can rip them a new one over and over like they're your punching bag.

either you are here to help them or you aren't. if the only people you've had experience with critiquing are self centered thin skinned assholes who will attack and guilt trip you if you point out one flaw, im sorry for that. but most people arent like that and acting like they are makes you the asshole in fact, not them.

i will repeat it: you are either here to help them or you aren't. if you are not here to genuinely help them improve and just wanna bitch and moan and talk about how bad they are doing it, shut up and do it on your own time. because you are not being helpful, you are only here to satisfy yourself. you aren't doing them a favor by pointing out their mistakes in the bitchiest, most condescending way possible. you are making yourself feel better by being a dick to someone else. which makes you an asshole.

knock it off. get a hobby. touch some grass. watch a movie. you are just as, if not more obnoxious than people who absolutely cannot take even good faith criticism. you don't even have the balls to say this with your name attached.

[cyberphuck]

I’m sitting in a bar, caked in makeup, head a veritable fucking helmet of hairspray, my legs crossed. I’m drinking something sticky in a martini glass and trying to look as if I haven’t noticed all the suspiciously attractive people staring at me.

There are unattractive people staring at me too, but not as hard, and not in the same way. Regular folks will glance at you and then away, or look at you sidelong and wonder how and why you got your hair that shade of pink (it seemed like a good idea at the end of six craft beers, two of Mika’s top shelf topplers, and seven cans of something a great deal cheaper. Also, it had pissed Leon off, which was definitely a plus). 

Vampires, on the other hand, stare in a different way.

 ‘Intense,’ you’re thinking. 'Hungry.’ Like an animal on the prowl. Maybe there are vampires somewhere who look like that, but in my experience vamps generally stare coolly, bluntly, with half-lidded eyes and dark-painted lips curled in something just short of a snarl. 

In short, you can tell a vamp is staring at you because they’re doing it in the bitchiest way possible. It’s a stare that says “I can see the spot on the back of your leg that you missed while shaving, and I bet you used a cheap razor instead of going down to the salon for a proper wax. I can smell your three dollar drugstore eyeliner from across the room. Your hair is offending me on at least eight levels, three of which can only be appreciated by the undead. How dare you, how *dare* you exist this close to me, you little dollar-store whore.”

What I’m trying to say is that vampires are fucking shallow as hell and mixing with them is not the most fun part of my job, and nor was it what I thought I’d be doing when I started working for the Order. I’d come in thinking what most other people think– that vampires, those elegant and deadly creatures of the night, had a strict and noble code, and that they stuck close to it while attending fancy parties where everyone chuckled darkly and drank blood from champagne flutes.

Six months on the job, and I’ve discovered that vampires do have a code, and it is this: vampires are immortal, so you’ll be looking at whoever you Turn for a really long time. Therefore, don’t Turn anyone ugly.  To even have permission to stand near a vampire you have to be at least a seven. 

I thought I’d dolled myself up to an eight when I’d left the house. Mika’d had a lot of things to say about my outfit, but he always does. Now, sitting on a stool by the bar and being glared at by a bunch of undead assholes, I feel like I’ve been downgraded to a six.

At least there are humans in this bar. Going into a Vamp Bar by myself would be suicide, or at least really humiliating, so I’d left it to Mika to see what he could find out there. With him doing most of the heavy reconnoitering, I’d thought it’d be easy to toss back a few drinks and try to casually overhear some conversations. But nobody comes to a bar to plant themselves next to someone and say “Hey there friend, would you like me to tell you some useful town gossip in a strong and clear voice?”

Well, some people do, I guess. But for the most part, conversations held in a bar are idiotic. Even those held by vampires. I signal for another drink. "So I told him I don't drink that cheap shit, and he goes out and comes back with a bottle from *Dooly's."*

"Ugh, really?"

"Really. It can't have cost him more than like, fifteen dollars. He uncorked it and I could smell the pig's blood--"

"Oh, disgusting!"

"-- Asked if I could get an application for their nursery, and he said there was a waiting list. For the application!"

"That's their polite way of saying no, I think."

"Sorry, have you ever met a polite vamp?"

"But Nossy and James said that I'd be a perfect candidate, as long as I got accepted in the next couple of years and kept myself healthy. I didn't know it was going to be so hard to even be seen."

"Yeah, I heard modeling contracts are easier."

"Isn't there some other way? I thought you just found someone who'd be willing to..."

I shift, crossing my legs and turning my head slightly so I can better hear the conversation without actually staring at the two skinny, red-lipped women a few sticky bar stool seats down from me. I stir my drink with a cherry on a pink plastic stick-- does everything in this bar have to be some shade of red? We get it, you serve vampires. 

"There's all kinds of rules and stuff. I guess they cant just go around biting people anymore, or the wolf police come to town."

'Wolf Police.' That's not bad. I'm more of a wolf mall cop, though. I'm not even really supposed to carry a weapon, and if it hadn't been for Leon, I wouldn't have one now.

Not that a silver bullet would kill a vamp, but it would definitely ruin their week. That's the same amount of protection mail carriers get against mean dogs, so I guess it's better than nothing.

"So they're really picky about who they let in. I bet you could though, Brittney, if James said so." She lowers her voice. "He likes you, you know. He's always talking about you."

"Is he? He and Nossy have been so nice to me. They said they'd introduce me to the right people as soon as I got accepted to one of the nurseries. I told him I'd do it, even if I had to go all the way out to Cincinnati to one of the big ones."

I don't mix with vampires often: they're not keen on people who don't buy into their bullshit. But for every person who isn't interested in being a creature of the night, there's about a hundred who are, and vampires have had a long time to perfect the art of telling people what they want to hear. 

Unfortunately for Brittney, stringing young idiots along while pretending they have half a chance of being accepted to a vamp nursery isn't actually against the law. I just wish someone would warn her before she starts spending money on her little dream. I wonder what James looks like. Handsome, definitely. A good square jaw and decent hair. Tall, maybe with big shoulders. Oh yes, I bet he leaned over poor Brit at some party and purred to her about how he wished he could capture her beauty in a bottle to hold it close to his heart, or something cheesy like that.

It's not really my job to keep douchebag vampires from playing Prince of the Night to unsuspecting college girls until they get tired and dump them, but I make a mental note to ask Mika if he knows a James anyway. It almost definitely won't go anywhere, but at least I can say I tried. And maybe I'll snag Brittney's sleeve on the way out and give her a heads-up about handsome guys with mouths full of compliments and sharp teeth.

"I invited him out with us tonight, but he said he doesn't like the half and half bars, that there are too many people, you know, clinging. He's really well known around town, and everybody wants him to put in a good word, he says."

I bite the cherry off of my little pink stick. I'll bet he says that, Brit. God, someone tell this girl to run.

"So he invited me to this other place that he knows, later tonight. After two is when all the fun starts, he says."

In listening to the Ballad of Britney, I've been staring out across the bar at nothing in particular. I guess I've managed to look pretty and vacant enough to attract someone's attention, because he's staring back at me, handsome mouth quirked in a little smile. I quickly look away, but I know it's too late: he's already caught the eye of the bartender, beckoning him over and then pointing a slender finger at me. 

Hmm. A free drink isn't unwelcome, but the attention is. I look down at the little cardboard coaster that my last drink slid in on and hope that pretending to be absorbed in an advertisement for low-carb beer is going to be enough to throw this guy off my scent. 

"From the gentleman at the other end of the bar." The bartender has floated back over to me, setting my gift drink down on another coaster. "He's said he'd greatly enjoy the pleasure of your company." 

I wonder how much it had cost my admirer to send that saccharine crushed velvet bullshit twenty feet, and if I could slip this guy a twenty to carry back a message of 'Eat a big bag of dicks.'

"Um." I flash a smile. "Thanks." I try not to look at the man at the end of the bar, but I can feel his gaze hot enough to send my hairsprayed coif up in flames. Well, what did I expect? People come to half and half bars to hook up with someone pretty and pointy. No one hangs out with vamps for *fun.* I fidget with my purse. I'd better get out of here; if I don't get moving, he's-- 

--Nope, here he comes. 

Fuck.

"Evening." Tall and handsome in a Calvin Klein sort of way, with dark, heavy-lidded eyes and perfect hair. In another universe, where I don't already know what insufferable assholes most vampires are, I'm charmed by him. So smooth. So handsome. He even smells good: a hint of cologne, but one of the expensive ones, none of that five dollar eau de toilette that reeks of eighth grade.

"I saw you sitting alone, and wondered if you were as parched as I was," he says, and gestures to the empty stool beside me. "May I sit?"

"Go for it," I shrug. 

There are no stars in my eyes, and I haven't touched the drink he's sent me, but he doesn't miss a beat as he sits down, leaning one arm on the bar and crossing his ankles. "They don't really serve the sort of refreshment I prefer here," he says. 

"I'll bet they don't," I drawl. "Listen, thanks for the drink, but I don't really think you're my type--"

"How can you know, when we've only just met?"

Because vamps don't mingle with humans for any reason other than a laugh, a quick tumble, or a meal, and one of those is illegal. Also, the underwear model stereotype has never really been my thing. I take a breath, discard a hundred possible excuses in my head, and instead offer him a little smile. "I wanna let you down easy, hon, because I know a vamp's ego can be a little fragile. There's a dozen other bar bunnies in here who I'm sure would more than enjoy hopping after you wherever you wanted to go."

"You don't--"

"I don't," I finish for him, picking up my purse and sliding off my stool. "Good luck, though. I'm sure you'll find someone."

I hadn't wanted to leave so soon-- I had hoped to glean some worthwhile information out of Brittney's lovestruck babbling-- but I'm not paid enough to sit at a bar and smile while being hit on by someone who wears more hair product than I do and is probably older than me by at least fifty years. I weave through the tables and other patrons to the door and then step out into the street, wincing at the rush of cold air and wishing my 'tarted up' outfit had included a coat. Mika had declared all of my heavier coats too frumpy, however, so my last, best hope is finding a cab before I freeze to death in this miniskirt. 

"Wait!"

Oh, *ugh.*

I halt on the curb, looking over my shoulder at my undead admirer coming out of the bar, letting the heavy door slam shut behind him as he steps down onto the sidewalk. The cold probably doesn't bother him as much as it does me, but I take some satisfaction in watching the wind whip his perfect hair into a wild mess. 

He stalks up to me. I concentrate on not letting myself look tense. "What do you mean, I'm not your *type?"* he demands. 

"I'm not into you," I say. "Free drink or no. I told you, go back in there and bother somebody else."

"You," he says, brandishing a manicured finger at me, "ought to be *grateful* that someone like *me--"*

Oh, god, the 'you ought to be grateful' line. Not even a second attempt at wooing me? I'm insulted. "Not every mortal wants to fuck you just because you're going to be pretty forever," I say, shrugging the strap of my purse further up my shoulder. God *damn* it's cold, and every gust of wind is finding its way underneath my stupid trampy bar clothes. It's hard to shut this guy down without my teeth chattering. Hooray Aquanet though, not a single bubblegum-hued lock has left its designated spot on my head. "Back off or I'll pepper spray you." 

I dig my phone out, making all the motions of paging a cab so I can get out of winter's frosty full nelson. I check over my shoulder to be sure my vamp friend isn't eavesdropping, then thumb out a text to Mika: 'i've got a vamp crawling up my ass and no real info. u having better luck?'

"Why'd you even come here, then?" Funny how his elegant 'gentlevamp of the night' schtick drops off as soon as I don't present as someone to fuck anymore. "If you're not into vampires--"

"I didn't say that," I smile. "I said I'm not into *you.* And I was looking for someone, but they're not here tonight." Several someones, in fact, though I don't know their names or what they look like. Yet. "So I'm going home and washing this shit out of my hair." 

I've been mashing my thumb over the 'call-a-cab' app on my phone for three minutes, and it looks like my chariot's finally arrived. The cab pulls up to the curb and I slide in without a backwards glance, pitifully grateful for the heated interior, even if the entire vehicle smells like patchouli and cigarettes. I lean forward, about to give my address, when my phone buzzes with a call. 

I know without looking that it's Leon; not many other people would bother me at this time of night, and Mika would only deign to call me instead of texting if his hands had fallen off. "Leon," I sigh, gesturing for the cab driver to pull away from the curb and the annoyed vampire standing there. "What's up?"

"Need you at the shop." Leon's growl sounds even more growly on the phone. "Come in."

Then he hangs up.

Good old Leon.

[gaykarstaagforever]

He goddamn is not.

You know that! You drew this!

Or did two men with a slightly different haircut really blow minds in 1965? Plus this certainly is the same universe where no one recognizes the biggest celebrity in the world as soon as he puts on glasses.

Superman 181 has another feature besides this boring "Superman is Allergic to the Pacific Ocean Now" story.

It is better that that. In that, it is still bad, but actual things happen.

Just be warned that it centers on two of the very worst features of every Silver Age Superman comic: some woman altering time and space merely to try and date Superman (it isn't Lois this time, for once). And stupid Superman clone robot shit.

Morna Vine, the niece of one of the Daily Planet's major shareholders, nepo's her way into a job in the newsroom. Lois, Jimmy Olsen and Clark are immediately afraid of the new competition. Which is weird, because you will note this is the same newsroom where Lois, Jimmy Olsen, and Clark stand around all day as Lois and Jimmy make fun of Clark for CLEARLY not being cool like Superman, until Perry yells at them to get out there and do a report on the latest space-monster trying to eat the city.

But I guess in this story they are all locked in perpetual mortal kombat over who gets the best scoops. Which, immediately, is Morna Vine. And man, do the others get real catty about it. This might be the bitchiest Superman story ever.

See? Even the narration is doing it.

After Lois herself gets scooped by Morna on some story about a guy storing an antigravity ray in a lead vault, she agrees with Jimmy that Morna must have Superman powers that make her slightly better than them at reporting.

High stakes, here.

...How is a new ray even a "scoop" for the Planet at this point? Superman invents and forgets a new one every second issue.

Let Morna have this partucular ray gun, Lois. You can report on the next six of them.

Lois tries to trick Morna into admitting she has superpowers. It involves blackface and kryptonite. Because of course it fucking does.

It goes without saying that this plan fails.

But because both Lois and Jimmy refuse to believe a normal woman could dare top them at noticing stuff happening, Clark is also soon convinced she must be magic. And being Superman, he can actually prove it.

By abandoning Morna on an iceberg in the Arctic.

...Also Clark Kent can fly helicopters now? When the hell did that become part of his secret identity?

At any rate, Clark's plan "works," in that Morna doesn't freeze to death, and also scoops him on the story he dumped her in the ice to go report on (some guy built an artificial sun that makes it possible for white people to develop a Caribbean resort at the North Pole. It absolutely does not matter). Morna could clearly have only beat Clark to it via "telescopic vision," that power only Superman has, where he can just see anything, anywhere.

Only Superman, and his godforsaken robot clones, of course.

That he stores in a closet in Clark Kent's apartment now.

"Kent? This is your landlord. A question, if I may. Are the four full-sized talking dolls of Superman in your bedroom, that refer to you as 'Master,' a work thing, or...?"

No, his landlord doesn't find them. That's just me, writing a better Superman story than this mess.

After interrogating his clone robots during working hours and getting nothing but maybe fun out of it, Clark doesn't have time to abandon Morna in any other dangerous locations. Instead he and her are sent to cover a story about stolen Nazi paintings the local museum has in a vault (?!).

This is the second exciting news story the Planet has run in so-many-weeks about something locked in a vault. Is it always like this? How is Clark never scooping everyone in this lunatic town?

Clark guesses, correctly, shockingly, that Morna will somehow break into the museum after hours to use her Superman powers to scoop him again. So he himself breaks in and hides, to spy on her.

When she attempts to do her thing, the vault latch explodes, because Nazis.

Which I guess no one bothered to consider when they were bringing it into the museum.

Superman rescues Morna and takes her to the hospital for treatment of her injuries. And here, FINALLY, he and Lois and Jimmy just ask the woman why she has superpowers.

A thing they could have easily done way before she was nearly killed by exploding Nazi paintings. But then I wouldn't have had to read all of this. And what was I going to do instead? Vacuum? Drink? Make love?

Not a chance, 1965 DC. We burn together, you and I.

The solution to this stunningly woven tale of mystery and intrigue is that this one time, Morna was scubadiving near where one of Superman's robots got smashed by ocean robots (yes). She stole its head before Superman himself could get there and retrieve it.

If any young children were indeed reading this in 1965, I'm sure this panel made bedtime extra fun for the whole family the next couple of weeks.

Her dad, another random super-scientist who lives in this delightful world, took a break from building the next new shrink-ray to salvage all the parts from the head that Superman put in there to replicate his powers. Then he somehow engineered them into jewelry for Morna to wear, so that she could use those powers herself.

Which she only did so she could become the best reporter in Metropolis. ...So she could get close to Superman. ...So he could fall in love with her.

Because Superman has to be in love with whatever girl reporter is the best at the Daily Planet? They don't explain this otherwise.

Having finally sorted...whatever this was, out, Superman scolds Morna for being selfish, takes her gadget jewelry, and leaves her sobbing in a hospital.

Then he goes off to play around with his robots of himself some more.

Honestly the only mystery here is how someone like Lex Luthor didn't get his hands on this tech before Kal-El applied the most rudimentary security protocols.

This is indeed the end. Morna isn't shown getting arrested or sentenced to therapy. This is a woman who has the means and drive to run a long-con based on a romantic obsession, and it led her to arm herself with literal weapons that nearly blew up a museum with herself inside it.

But she's sad now, and lost all her jewelry, so that solves her womanly problems in 1965, I guess!

...Then again, maybe Superman is kind of into it. He does spend a whole page fantasizing about her in sideboob-revealing spandex.

[girlmetalsonic]

this is probably the bitchiest and most nitpickey thing i will ever post but

(art is from the idw issue 27 B cover, very good art please check it out and other stuff by jonathan gray, all of his work is VERY cool looking. my extreme focus on a minor detail should not reflect badly on the art lol)

i disagree on a fundamental level with almost every single leaderboard placement in this image.

the rest of this is under the cut bc im going to ramble for so long here. also, i need to put a disclaimer im not actually that mad i just dont think the placements make sense.

im aware that this is the "i dont like that sonics arms are blue, i hate sonics new shoes" kind of crazed sonic fan ramblings. but i do not care. this is like a he would not fucking say that situation to me. except its a they would not fucking place that if they all played video games situation.

SHADOW. DOES NOT KNOW WHAT A VIDEO GAME IS. YOU CANNOT LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME SOMEBODY FROM THE 50S WOULD GET THIRD PLACE.

ROUGE, (not pictured,) IS LITERALLY CHEATING. SHE IS CHEATING! SHES USING CHEAT CODES!! SHE GETS SEVENTH?? WHILE CHEATING???

KNUCKLES. IS 1. WEARING BOXING GLOVES. AND 2. ALSO HAS LIKELY NEVER PLAYED A VIDEO GAME! HE GREW UP ON A REMOTE ISLAND! THEY DID NOT BRING HIM FORTNITE! you can make the argument that he has since played video games after becoming friends with sonic. but fifth place? he played his first video game at age 16 and youre telling me he beat amy? and tangle? and rouge who, im still not over this, IS CHEATING??

but i digress. im going to give my own ideal placements and reasoning for all of them.

Big

Tails

Rouge

Tangle

Sonic

Amy

Cream

Shadow

Knuckles

Jet

OK; my reasoning for each of these is as follows.

Big is funny and it would be funny if he beat everybody else, its unexpected. its a good joke.

Tails is tech-savvy, i wouldnt be surprised if he knew a few glitches and some speedrun tech. he also likely has good control and experience with playing.

Rouge is literally cheating. the only reason she isnt first is because i think she doesnt play video games that often so she is at a disadvantage on pure technical skill, and also she is sitting upside down (not pictured)

Tangle just seems like a gamer to me. She is a normal person who plays video games in her free time and so she knows how to play fairly well.

Sonic, by all means, SHOULD be in sixth, however i cannot in my mind separate sonic from being a gamer. i know he likely barely plays because he spends his time outdoors and travelling, but sonic being in sixth is so viscerally wrong to me that i had to put him in fifth. its the highest i could justify.

Amy, by all means, SHOULD be in fifth, however, in the image she is raging (not pictured) so i feel that she would be playing worse than usual. shes a normal person who i can see playing video games sometimes.

Cream is a normal kid who i think plays video games fairly often. her mom probably has screen time limits or something but cream is playing minecraft when she can. she is only this low because she is six years old. gemerl is giving her strategy tips. she would be much higher if she had fully developed fine motor skills.

Shadow and Knuckles i can really see being flipped, however, i just see Shadow being a teensy bit higher. While i think shadow knows less about video games, i think he would do better while playing since he has perfect reflexes and also isnt wearing boxing gloves. but i must stress both he and Knuckles are dogshit at video games.

Knuckles could be swapped with Shadow, but, despite knowing more and having possibly played a game or two before, Knuckles is wearing boxing gloves which are bad for gaming, and despite having warrior reflexes due to his training, he really cant beat the ultimate lifeform reflex kind of junk. but again, it could go either way, they both suck at video games.

Jet loses because its funny if he loses. same thing as Bigs. good joke, 10/10 i have no notes.

and thats it. that is my ideal ranking. it will forever slightly piss me off that the official sonic the hedgehog "which characters are gamers" lore does not fit with my interpretations of them. but what can you do.

(make an overly long text post about it, thats what!)

[fbfh]

your opinion is wrong - paxton hall yoshida x reader

wc: 1.4k

pairing: paxton x shy!fem!reader (she/her)

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: moderate upsetting bullying, reader has been bullied in the past, lightly implied neurodivergant reader (hyperfixations/socializing does not come naturally) but could also be social anxiety so it's open to interpretation, warror cats and my little pony slander, mention of being on adderall as a joke, reader has something akin to an anxiety attack and has to leave a party (also open to interpretation), reader hears male voices yelling in the distance, paxton is a loving and protective boyf, trent is the ultimate homeboy

summary: when the party you're at takes a turn for the worse, paxton is there to stand up for you and help you turn the night around.

song rec: the first song or two of your comfort album

mine are this december - ricky montgomery, and are you satisfied - marina (tw for possibly upsetting lyrics)

a/n: I don't remember specifically getting bullied but I also don't remember a lot of my childhood so who knows

anyway I hope you like this!! paxton is a good boyfriend

also!! not proofread cause I'm incapable of doing that ig :/

“Nah dude, I can just tell,” Ethan, one of the guys from the swim team says, “she was totally one of those kids that were like… really into like, warrior cats, or some shit,” his words taper off as he holds back a laugh.

You’re close enough to hear what he’s saying, and you’re sure he has to be aware of this. You continue scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to what you’re looking at, trying to seem busy and not uncomfortable. You hope it looks convincing. You look behind you, trying to seem inconspicuous. Paxton should be back with your drinks any minute.

“Like,” he adorns a falsetto valley girl voice, overexaggerated mannerisms punctuating his words, “that’s bright star, the bitchiest tabby from the rival clan… we’ve been feuding since that slut stole my sardines.”

You don’t even remember that much of the warrior cats books you happened to read in elementary school, and even you know that’s not at all accurate. You continue to sit in painful silence, those familiar hot waves of shame beginning to come over you.

“Or like, fuckin’,” he continues, feeding off the laughter he’s drawing from the group surrounding him, “my little pony or some shit. Like, hi hi, I’m pinky cakes and I’m on adderall!” he continues in a shrill falsetto, letting out a torrent of high pitched giggles.

You stare right through your phone, trying your hardest to ignore the mockery falling thoughtlessly from his lips. It’s really unnecessary. You know you’re quiet, you’re perfectly aware of how much you struggle to socialize the way most people seem to effortlessly. Sure, you take solace in the escapism you find in books and movies and tv shows, you have since you were little, but that doesn’t mean that you - or anyone for that matter - should be ridiculed for it. You can’t count the amount of comfort shows or little hobbies you’ve had to drop cold turkey because someone mocked them and you couldn’t look at them without triggering shame and guilt spirals.

You feel like you’re going to throw up. Your fight or flight response begins to act up, and you jiggle your leg, trying to deny the urge to run as fast and as far as you can.

“Fuckers naruto running through the halls,”

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it...

“-the most annoying type of person,”

You have to get out of here right now.

The instinct consumes you, and you stand up, bolting to the door as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. You angle your head down, hoping no one will see the tense, scrunched up look on your face you’re trying desperately to control, or the wall of tears, growing and blurring your vision into swirling abstract colors. You’re glad you already knew where the door was, or navigating your way through the sea of people would be impossible.

“Hey.”

A hand reaches for your arm. Normally you would dodge gracefully, nothing coming in between you and your need to escape, but you immediately recognize the hand as Paxton’s. Your brain stalls, that disgusting feeling still fully saturating your body, and you freeze at the contact. You don’t look at him. His stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, in more of a statement, coming closer to you. He hands the drinks he was holding to a passerby, who replies with a ‘thanks man,’ and continues on his way.

Paxton is already in front of you, a hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his cheek. One look at your face and he understood instantly.

“Can we just go home?” you try to say, but your throat tightens up as soon as you begin, cutting off your words. He understands in spite of this, and is already leading you to his car.

He opens the passenger side, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt. He turns to you before he closes the door.

“I’m going to go say bye to Trent and Marcus real quick, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you pick out some music?” He offers, giving you a tender kiss on the cheek and a reassuring squeeze to your hand. You nod, and he closes the door.

You pair your phone with his car speakers, and scroll through your saved playlist. You pause, realizing exactly what you need, and start playing one of your favorite comfort albums. You lipsync along to the words, the familiar words and melody, even the order of the songs providing an immediate sense of relief. You take deep breaths along with the music, heart rate starting to slow, emotions beginning to settle.

You open the window slightly, feeling grounded and refreshed by the cool night air. Before you can take two breaths, the sound of yelling emanates from the house, just audible over the synth pop dance track playing on the multiple speakers inside. Your whole body tenses automatically, and you roll the window back up, turning your attention back on the music. A few minutes later, the driver’s side door opens, and Paxton slides in. He takes your hand.

“Are you okay?” he says gently, but not patronizing. You can tell he’s sincere. “Trent told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky deliberate sigh, squeezing his big hand with your shaking one.

“Why… does this always happen?” you say quietly, “Right when I think-” You cut yourself off, thoat closing up as tears well in your eyes again. You look down, focusing on your breath.

Paxton traces his thumb over your knuckles.

“Those guys are assholes.” He says definitely, “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, princess,” his free hand rests on your cheek, turning your face towards him. He doesn’t make you look at him, just presses a warm kiss to your forehead.

“They also think dumb and dumber and beevis and butthead are cinematic genius. I don’t trust their taste in movies, or people.”

You let out a weepy laugh, and you can both tell you’re feeling better.

“You wanna go home, play some video games?”

You nod gently.

“We can play genshin impact…” he tantalizes, and you smile.

“You really want to see me fly off cliffs and scream at every hilichurl that appears?”

You both laugh.

“I always want to watch you cliff dive and collect fruit and plants.” You smile.

He pulls out of the driveway, and you decide on where to get food before going back to his place. Paxton orders for you, and you wait until your order is called. His phone rings, and he answers the call from Trent.

“Mission accomplished bro. Me and Marcus kicked those douchebags out, and sent the vid to coach. Their asses will get benched at best.”

He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Trent.”

You look up at him.

“Everything okay?” You ask. He looks down at your sparkly eyes, your hands holding onto his arm, and his heart squeezes.

“Yeah, Trent’s just checking that we got home okay.”

“Tell him I say hi,” you say, turning back to your phone. He relays the message, and goes to pick up your food.

Soon you’re curled up on his couch, button smashing your way through a domain, yelling at monsters, with Paxton cheering you on. Your legs are thrown over his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh in encouragement.

“Sorry!” you yell, finally wearing down a monster to zero hp. He watches you, enthralled by the game, enthralled by life. Your beauty, all aspects and facets of it, are so blindingly obvious to him, how could anyone not see it? It really makes no sense to him, solidifying the feeling of needing to protect you, the way you care for and nurture a beautiful flower garden.

“Yes!” you cheer, completing the level. You throw your arms around him, and he holds you tight.

“I’ve never won that fast,” you say, a blinding smile on your face.

“I know,” he says, his expression mirroring yours, “that was amazing, babe.”

“I still can’t believe that happened,” you muse. Overcome with love and adoration for you, Paxton pulls you in close, catching your lips with his. After a moment, he pulls away. You look down, cheeks warm.

Ever since your first kiss, he’s wondered how long that feeling would last. At this point, watching you giggle, and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he thinks that maybe it never will. He hopes he’s right.

[naiacs]

VENT:

Okay, look, I don't know the OP. Never interacted with them besides liking their publications on bitter (now this person has most likely moved on from the onceler fandom, but I still felt the need to express what I felt) and THIS sentence. "YoU're pREttY oBnoxIoUS." Whoever was hiding behind the Anon because they were too much of a coward to actually publish it themselves. I don't know who you are, don't care, you Prolly moved on from this and good for you but I'm using you as an example to all the little shits who think they're entitled to Say these kinds of things to people who just want to share what they like. The worst part is that most of YOU hide behind an Anon. Good thing you were behind an Anon because like I said, you probably moved on from this. And I don't want people to go out and harrass you. And to those who believe they can Say whatever they want whenever they want. Who the Fuck do you ALL think you are? a god? A fucking jedi? A divinity ? I've heard this sentence practically my whole LIFE by little shits who whined and complained for nothing because they're insecure about themselves. And sometimes people didn't even need to say that to me to make me realize that I was a FUCKING burden to them. This sentence has followed me my WHOLE LIFE. And sometimes it was justified. But here is a CLEAR example of how not to use it. You go on Tumblr, you see a person who likes to publish about things they like (in this case, the onceler). And it's annoying you? Well good news for you bud. There is a BLOCK button you Can use. Just a simple FUCKING CLICK! and it's all gone. You won't bother the person and the person won't bother you. END OF FUCKING STORY. Seriously, grow the fuck UP. Just because something bothers you doesn't mean you have to go out and tell the person "YOU'RE OBNOXIOUS" in the most BITCHY way possible. I've done embarassing things . I have been a BITCHY teen too. But this SENTENCE. this ONE WORD has followed me my entire life. And the fact that you're saying this in the most BITCHIEST way POSSIBLE is what's setting me off. How dare you all stoop that fucking low. Idc if you're a teen. I'm going to have a HUGE beef with you if you're going to talk to people that way. And to you OP, you don't owe anyone ANYTHING. you sharing your passion is the most beautiful thing ever. Don't waste it.

You're being p obnoxious. Bitter isn't the only one who tracks his tag.

I don’t really know…what to say exactly, except that I am really really embarrassed now…

I’m sorry I guess, I didn’t realize that. I thought Bitter was being playful when he said that I was a “tag spammer” but y'know, now I see he might’ve really meant it negatively…I–

I’m sorry to everyone, really. I’ve been inconsiderate. 

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

some thoughts on what living with bakugou would be like:

-he’s weirdly organized. like he remembers where he put everything every time so if ur ever looking for something, most times he’ll just find it for u and it takes like .2 seconds

-will cook meals a large majority of the time, but if u bake sweets he’s an absolue sucker for them.

-if you’re like reALLY allergic to a certain type of bug or plant,, man’s got his eyes pEELED whenever y’all go somewhere together. like lets say, for example, ur allergic to bees. bakugou is blowing bees up left and right and u look at him and ur “no!! stop!!! bees are endangered!!” ,, he looks u dead in the face, like ur stupid or something and says “yeah. because of me. i’m gonna kill all of them.”

- if u have to get in an argument with somebody over the phone, he wants to hear it. like he’ll ask u to put the phone on speaker and he’ll just make mocking, bitchy faces while the other person is speaking. like,, he lets u fight ur own battles, but he wants to be there bullying the other person mercilessly in the background.

-if he doesnt like a song ur playing, he’ll just skip it. won’t ask, wont look at u, he’ll just skip it. borderline dick move tbh

-gets grumpy if u don’t follow his nightly routine on time, but also wont go to sleep without u. like he’ll just stay up and crab at u until u go to bed with him

-likes when u brush his hair for him. like u’ll be brushing yours, totally by urself fine, and he’ll just look at u and clear his throat until u roll ur eyes and beckon him over

-if u get like a bag of junk food or something,, do nOt leave that shit out, bakugou will finish it 10/10 times. he’ll finish it but then look at u and “why the fuck would u even bring that shit in here, huh? u tryin’ to get me out of shape or somethin?” ,, and u look at him like “idk man maybe just dont eat it then.” ,,, the glARE he gives u in response is muRDEROUS //pls this is quite literally the only area he lacks self control dont remind him\\

-has absolutely no regard for neighbors. he yells a lot and if y’all get noise complaints he just glares and 😡💥at the neighbor until they get scared and leave

-he thinks it’s funny to just subtly move things from time to time. like, for example, lets say plates. ,,, so like, u always keep plates on the left side of a certain cabinet, right?? but if he’s putting dishes away and feeling particularly petulant that day, he’ll just put away the plates on the right side instead. man’s then proceeds to smirk and laugh at u every time u open the wrong side of the cabinent from then on with a “jeez, u rlly are a moron, huh? they’re on the right side, remember?” god he’s annoying

-genuinely enjoys going grocery shopping by himself. like idk he just thinks it’s his quiet, personal time, u kno?? and he enjoys doing super-intense meal prep for the week anyways so he’s gotta make sure he gets the right ingredients

-u just hear muffled screaming from time to time. like u’ll be in the kitchen eating breakfast totally calm, and he’s making the bed and all the sudden just a “jesus fucking christ, swear to fuck im gonna blow up this stupid fuckin’ fitted sheet!” (which honestly??? valid. fuck fitted sheets.)

-if he doesn’t want to hang out with the bakusquad but they’re forcing him he’ll text u something like “I love you.” and then ofc ur like “i love u too. but also, u never just say that to me normally?? is something wrong?” and then total radio silence from him for like 20 mins and u get super worried,, and then he just sends u a video of mina or denki being loud with a “Can you get sick or something? I want to come home.” ,, i- 🧍

- isnt going to want a pet,, but if u have, like, a dog already when u move in with him, then it’s going to become bakugou’s dog. if he’s going to have to have a dog than he’s gonna make sure it likes him more than u

-hates doing laundry. will volunteer to do dishes instead 11/10 times

-he doesn’t sing in the shower but 100% plays the drums on the walls or his own stomach fight me on this

-he hates the smell of nail polish/nail polish remover. so if ur painting ur nails he’ll just walk in the room and walk directly out,, quickest way to get alone time

-speaking of alone time- say bye. u’ll get none of it,,, it’s not that he’s constantly on top of u or like talking to u, he just always sorta ends up in whatever room u are. like a cat, pretty much. like he won’t say anything, but if u get up to do something, he gets up and chooses to move his lounging to somewhere nearby

-he likes to scare the shit out of u. just like, rlly juvenile stuff like hiding around corners just to jump out at u. will just stand there and laugh when u scream, and will never, never apologize

-he gets weirdly worked up about hair?? just hates it, thinks it’s disgusting if he sees a stray hair anywhere. even if its his own. like yes it’s gross ig, but he gets so 🤮 about it

-he does house chores unecessarily loudly. like, u watch him and it seems like he’s doing everything totally normally,, but jesus christ why is it so loud

-gets bitchy around christmas if u decorate without him. he will complain the eNTIRE time if he does have to decorate, but will throw an even bigger fit if u dare to do it without him

-he gets mad if people drive too fast in ur neighborhood/ past ur apartment complex. like, y’all have 0 (zero!) kids, but he’s still up at the window like “Slow the fuck down, asshole! Why the hell doesn’t anyone have any common fuckin’ sense around here? That’s dangerous, you piece of shit!”

-if u sing around the house a lot, it’s the only habit of urs he’ll have absolutely nothing to say about. like it doesn’t even matter if ur a good singer or not, he just likes when he can hear u in the house even if ur not in the same room. he finds it comforting

-bakugou hates having people over to ur place. he thinks of it like his calm-space/safe-haven and it rlly pisses him off when people are there

-on the rare days he doesn’t have to work at all and stays home, mans is a total baby. he just refuses to get up for anything other than bathroom or meals and even then goes straight back to bed. he takes basically a 24 hr nap and expects u to do the same with him he’s so dramatic pls

-will make snarky comments about reality tv shows with u. just the bitchiest shit possible bc he enjoys trash talking as an art form, and absolutely does not care who it’s about

-likes to watch u do skincare stuff. he won’t ask questions and will be borderline offended if u offer some to him, but he just likes to watch u do it. man’s thinks of it as like his personal asmr

-hates online shopping. (pls i have absolutely no explanation for this one i just know its true)

-he has a lot of pride in his house so it’s actually rlly well decorated. like, he would never consent to living somewhere busted, lmaooo, so if u dont kno how to decorate he’ll figure it out for the both of u

-u can always tell if he’s falling asleep bc he constantly does that weird full-body jerk. like the one where it feels like ur falling

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?��

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”