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collecting-stories · 3 years ago

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She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron

Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo

A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic.

Outer Banks Masterlist

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Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you.

“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.

“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.

“I’d rather not.”

“Cause you broke up with me-”

Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”

You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”

“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.

Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.

It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.

She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.

No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.

“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.

Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.

“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”

“Dinner then.” You said.

“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”

“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”

You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.

“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”

You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”

Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”

“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”

“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”

“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.

“It’s a delicate subject.”

“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”

“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”

“Sarah-”

“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”

“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”

“Yes I’m positive.”

“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”

“No.”

You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”

“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”

“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”

She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”

While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”

“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”

“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.

“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”

“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.

#sarah cameron imagine #sarah cameron fanfic #sarah cameron fanfiction #sarah cameron fic #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron x y/n #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #sarah Cameron fanfic #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #collecting stories imagine

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dickwheelie · 3 years ago

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3, jm? :o

#3 - writing a love letter but keeping it to themselves

cheesed the prompt a little bit but it still kinda works!

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The train rattled and Jon's pen slid across the notebook page, slicing his last sentence in two. Growling in frustration, he carefully drew two straight, deliberate lines through the words, and wrote them again. As a rule he liked to keep his writing neat and even, and this letter in particular he wanted to look nice, despite the inconvenient spot he was in.

He hadn't had much of a choice. The idea to write the letter had come to him while they were all standing on the platform back in London, and he knew there'd be no time once they arrived at Great Yarmouth. Besides, though the train was loud and shaky it was a night train, and the others were fast asleep in their seats, giving Jon the privacy he needed to really think about what he wanted to say to Martin.

Because, of course, the letter was for Martin. He was trying to use it to say everything he hadn't known how to say these past few months, things that Martin deserved to hear. Things he'd intended on telling Martin once they got back--because they would be getting back, Jon wouldn't entertain the alternative--but his mind had kept turning the words over and over in his head, not letting him alone, and so he'd put pen to paper at the first opportunity. He wanted to make the words tangible, real things, that he could show to Martin and make him understand.

As he finished up the last sentence, Jon turned back to the previous page in his notebook and read the letter through.

Martin--

I'm sure I gave you this to read and then walked away, probably said I was going to wait in my office or something. As I write this I'm promising myself I'm going to do that. But knowing me, I'm probably waiting right outside the door to hear your reaction. So feel free to stay as quiet as possible to give future me a hard time. He probably deserves it.

I know this isn't the normal way of going about this sort of thing, but . . . well, why start now? Our track record with normal hasn't exactly been consistent.

I suppose this letter is a confession, of sorts. Though it hardly feels like one; I feel like most of these things I'm about to write are things you already know. But I'm not sure, and that's the point of it, because these are things you should know. They're things I probably should have told you already, to be completely honest.

First thing is that I never properly thanked you for helping me after I got back from my little month-long "vacation." To be honest a lot of that time is a blur, but I do remember you offering me a place to stay, and helping me stock back up on groceries, and just being there. You didn't need to do any of that, so, thank you.

And thank you for believing me. About Leitner, about Nikola, about all of it. I know it's a bit very hypocritical of me to say that I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, but you did. You always have. Except when what I'm saying is bullshit, which, thank you for calling me out on that, too.

Second thing is that I'm sorry. For . . . everything, pretty much. For treating you the way I did, for not trusting you, for just generally being an arse and a stubborn idiot. For getting you involved in this mess--Prentiss, the Unknowing, all of it. I know an apology doesn't fix anything, but you deserve at least that much.

I won't apologize for not bringing you with us, though. It's not safe, where we're going. I suppose it's not safe where you are, either, but it's safer, at least. If Elias wanted to kill any of us he'd have done it by now. Which, now that I'm reading that back, I'm realizing it's not actually very comforting.

It doesn't matter anyway. If you're reading this, it means you're okay, that I'm okay. That we saved the world.

As I write this I really, really hope that that's how it works out. Because I need you to be okay, Martin. I need you to be okay and I need to be back with you. I care about you, a lot, and I need you to know that.

While I was in America I was miserable. Nothing was familiar and I constantly felt like I was being followed and I had nothing to do all day but chase imaginary leads that ultimately led me right back to my own front door. But I always looked forward to your calls. Talking to you was always the best part of my day. I kept counting out the time difference trying to anticipate when you'd be awake. I planned my days around those calls. And at first I thought it was just that you were a familiar voice, a port in a storm, that it could have been anyone. But then I realized no, it was just you, I liked talking to you and I wanted to talk to you more, and I missed you when we had to hang up. Hearing your voice made me smile, every time. I kept thinking about your tea.

That was when I knew.

And when I came back, you were there. You were happy to see me. At least I think you were--I don't want to assume. But I know I was so, so happy to see you, Martin. I should have told you then, but I was scared. I didn't want to come on too strong. I didn't want to ruin any of it.

But, well, now the world is ending, or it didn't end, and I want you to know how I feel. So the third thing is that I'd like to have dinner with you sometime. And when I say that I mean somewhere nice with a wine selection, not in document storage with day-old tuna sandwiches. Though that evening wasn't half-bad, either. I'd like to go out with you, on a date, and yes, this is how I'm asking you. Remember what I said about normal.

You're wonderful, Martin, and just because it took me too long to realize that doesn't make it any less true. You're clever, and kind, and strong--I'm envious of how strong you are. I like your smile, and your jumpers, and your tea. I really like your tea. I'm withholding all opinions regarding poetry as I am not an authority on the subject. But the point is I like you, Martin, a lot. You matter very, very much to me.

I just don't want to wait any longer. I'm tired of being careful, I'm tired of biting my tongue, I'm tired of not being with you. I'm tired of everything, really, but I'm especially tired of that.

You don't have to answer right away, of course. Please, I don't want to pressure you, you can tell me no or yes or nothing at all, I won't ask. Although if I am waiting just outside the door right now, I'm probably going to give you a very persistent look when you leave, so don't say I didn't warn you.

Fondly yours,

Jon

Jon read through the letter three more times. He still wasn't entirely happy with it, but it was late, and despite the adrenaline that had gotten him through the day his eyelids were drooping now. Before he could fall asleep on his notebook, he wrote out one last line:

P.S.: Apologies for how messy this is--I wrote it on the train. Couldn't wait to get it all down.

Carefully, following the perforated lines, he tore out the pages, folded them neatly into thirds, and slipped them into his coat pocket. He'd give them to Martin as soon as he got back, he decided as he leaned back in his seat. Lulled by the steady rocking of the train, Jon thought of what Martin's excited yes might sound like, what it would feel like to hold his hand over a candlelit table, and perhaps even what it might be like to press a kiss to his cheek, and though he knew he would wake with the train arriving at its inevitable destination, these thoughts carried him off to sleep with more comfort than he'd felt in a long time.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes #thank u for the prompt sahar!!

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forkgirl · 2 years ago

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hi guys i thought i’d do a proper introduction!

you can call me fork

i’m not that good of a writer unless i’m writing some philosophical bullshit so expect fanfics here to be average but pwease go check out these awesome writers @finniestoncrane @lost-in-sokovia @like-rain-or-confetti 💖

and speaking of fanfics i am very slow at requests because i’m simply not fueled with enough brain juice (and i have to be in the right mood to fufill some requests, so SEND MORE) but i’ll get to all of them eventually

embarrassingly enough this is my main blog so i kinda reblog anything i find funny or entertaining alongside random stuff

here’s my master list for writing

i like a lot of things… i’m gonna list my top stuff here so feel free to talk about it with me

dorohedoro

ace attorney

gotham fox

breaking bad/better call saul

hetalia

TF2

musicals (rocky horror, hamilton, etc.)

stardew valley

this is subject to change but these are my fav things atm!! i’ll add more most likely

my favourite animals are monkeys and bunnies send me pictures of them i will appreciate it greatly

#about me

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years ago

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Texts from The Lost Tomb, part 3

I didn’t mean for this to stray into angst but like the lack of updates with Li Cu in LTR?? I had to do it to em.

Wushanju Crew Chat, 11:05pm

Li Cu: what’s up losers I’m outside

Li Cu: someone come on and open the damn door

Wang Meng: Language:(

Li Cu: fine, someone come on and open the damn door please

Snake Eyes Chat, 7:00am

Wu Xie: hey are you awake? Sorry I missed you coming in:) was finishing up some work. How was the end of your first semester? Did that geology paper go well? Did the food budget work out or do you need some extra money next semester?

Li Cu: yeah about your work

Li Cu: heard a little rumor

Li Cu: about you going through some stuff during ur recent trip

Li Cu: some stuff you maybe forgot to mention

Li Cu: and you told me we gotta check in with stuff, so this is me checking in, okay

Wu Xie: oh? What stuff?

Li Cu: idk just like

Li Cu: THE STUFF WITH YOU ALMOST FUCKING DYING FOR FUCKING MONTHS AND THE WAREHOUSE SHIT AND ERJING AND PEOPLE HURT YOU AND WHAT THE FUCK IS A THUNDER CITY AND NOONE FUCKING CALLED ME ABT THOSE PARTS ONCE

Wu Xie: oh. That stuff.

Li Cu: yeah asshat I’m in the kitchen whenever you’re ready to explain your fucking bullshit. Also you’re out of milk wtf how am I supposed to make breakfast here

Main Chat, 11:14am

Wu Xie: okay so it’s possible I fucked up a little bit.

Wang Pangzi: THERES JUST SO MUCH YOU COULD BE REFERRING TO I DONT KNOW WHERE TO START

Zhang Qiling: What’s wrong?

Honorary Wu Chat, 11:30am

Wang Pangzi: KID IM SO SORRY THAT PUNK IS A TRAINWRECK BUT YOU KNEW THAT

Wang Meng: Welcome home, Li Cu <3 not much has changed, ultimately.

Wang Pangzi: IT DIDNT EVEN OCCUR TO ME THAT HE WOULDNT TELL YOU EVERYTHING ABOUT IT ONCE THE REST OF US FIGURED IT OUT

WAIT HOW DID YOU FIND OUT

Li Cu: it’s okay. not your fault, uncle. Doesn’t matter how I found out. Wait wait hold on what do you mean “the rest of us figured it out” who figured it out

Wang Pangzi: SAY HELLO LIU SANG

Liu Sang: …hello.

Wang Pangzi: SAY MORE THAN THAT.

Liu Sang: uh…so you’re Wu Xie’s protégé, huh?

Li Cu: oh well howdy there homewrecker

Liu Sang: Excuse me??

Zhang Qiling: I think someone on the roof is calling me and I should go find out.

Wang Meng: I would also very much like to be removed from this conversation.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHAHA KIDDO IVE MISSED YOU

Li Cu: all I’m saying is aren’t you the little creep who’s obsessed with Xiao Ge

Liu Sang: ???

Zhang Qiling: Li Cu is referring to a brief period of irrational thought on Wu Xie’s part, where he mistakenly believed you to be a threat to our relationship.

Liu Sang: what do you mean a threat??

Wang Pangzi: WHAT DO YOU MEAN TIANZHEN HAD “A BRIEF PERIOD OF IRRATIONAL THOUGHT”

YOUVE MET YOUR HUSBAND RIGHT

Wang Meng: can you please take me off this chat.

Liu Sang: Wait, so Wu Xie told you about me, but…reading between the lines, he didn’t mention the cancer or anything bad that happened? Oh yikes.

Li Cu: don’t change the subject “Liu Sang”

if that is your real name

Like yeah you’re right abt it but still

just saying

heard you got good ears but I’ve got snake powers

kinda

so like no more funny business okay you superhearing harlot

Wang Meng: LANGUAGE, LI CU. IN THIS HOUSE WE SHOW GOOD MANNERS.

Wang Pangzi: LMAO OH DO WE NOW

Zhang Qiling: Li Cu, this is all unnecessary and childish. Please apologize.

Li Cu: you say that now bruh but apparently you weren’t complaining when he was all “idol this” and “idol that”

oh and hey Wang Meng while we’re here can I show you my business class grade report later bc Wu Xie is all “what matters is that you learned and enjoyed the experience” blah blah all eat pray love you know how he gets and I want to actually discuss areas to improve so that when I take over this joint I do better than Wu Xie? Tho that shouldnt be hard lol

Wang Meng: hurtful but accurate. I’ll bring my best red pen:)

Liu Sang: oh my god. I’m too jetlagged to keep up with any of this.

Wang Pangzi: BEST. DAY. EVER. IM SCREENSHOTTING THIS FOR HEI XIAZI.

Not A Homewrecker Chat, 11:52am

Liu Sang: Okay, we started off on the wrong foot.

Li Cu: I agree let’s start over

Start with how your little prank game almost got ppl killed

Liu Sang: And I seriously regret that. But we moved past that.

Wow, he seriously skipped over so much bullshit but didn’t skimp on mine, huh.

Li Cu: AHA so you ADMIT IT

Liu Sang: I’d like to think I’ve grown since then. That I’ve come to see Xiao Ge as a person and mentor, rather than an idol. I count Pangzi and Wu Xie as my close friends. I’m going to be staying here with them right now, I hope you can be okay with that.

Li Cu: see in my head you were going to be a lot less mature about it and I had a bunch of great follow-up insults planned

Liu Sang: I figured. I’d like us to be friends, though. Or at least not enemies.

Li Cu: okay but only bc you don’t know me yet so you won’t judge too much for this and I need to get this out to somebody I’ve been thinking about it for hours and my friends are still in finals and I’m stressing a little bit maybe

Liu Sang: ?

Li Cu: I yelled at dad

*Wu Xie sorry autocorrect

Liu Sang: …uh huh.

Li Cu: I yelled at him earlier. for keeping all that stuff from me. He started crying

Liu Sang: Wu Xie has been pretty emotional since we got back. Not necessarily your fault.

Li Cu: I made him cry right there at the kitchen sink and it felt like maybe the worst thing I’ve ever done

Snake venom and stabbings, no tears

Me saying I wouldn’t have gone to his funeral, all tears

Which I know was shitty to say but I was really mad

Liu Sang: If it’s any consolation, I think Wu Xie can understand the concept of being led by his emotions to make bad decisions…better than most people.

Li Cu: Xiao Ge came in then and looked weird

Like weirder than usual

Like he didn’t know which of us to be more mad at

Liu Sang: A common problem for the iron triangle, I understand.

Li Cu: I just ran out I didn’t have words right then and I feel stupid

but whenever they come back from their walk I’m gonna say sorry and stuff bc i could’ve come home to his funeral and I’m mad about it but also like. I could have come home to his funeral. I can get mean when I’m in a freakout mood. It’s not like I was scared or anything at all I don’t get scared really anymore ever but just like. Freaked out.

Liu Sang: He’s probably going to say sorry, too.

Li Cu: sorry I called you a homewrecker. Didn’t mean to slut-shame either

Liu Sang: I admit that after the initial shock, it was pretty funny. Super hearing harlot, it should be on my business card;)

Li Cu: this situation with Wu Xie is weird but kinda good ya know. And I have these freakouts sometimes that something maybe bad could happen to this situation. So consider this a shovel talk. But like, also not a shovel talk at the same time.

also I appreciate you saving his life and whatnot

Liu Sang: Noted. Now. Coffee?

Li Cu: sounds sick.

Be in the kitchen in 10. You can pick out what we watch for the household tv show tonight. no way is Wu Xie choosing some dry documentary about gravestone rubbings again. Pangzi just watches real housewives reruns and Xiao Ge won’t watch tv after he caught the last half hour of A Walk To Remember. Also i need my phone now to send some $ to Hei Xiazi since I owe him for…providing some intel

Liu Sang: Not even surprised.

#whomst #ultimate note #the lost tomb #wu xie #dmbj #pingxie

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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Beach Day!

Masterlist~

As requested by an anon, The Half Demon kids get to have their beach day! Please enjoy!

‘‘Twas a summer’s day in the Devildom, and school was out for the next couple of months, what else was there to do other than have a fun little beach vacation?

“Do we have towels?”

“Check.”

“Umbrellas?”

“Yep.”

“Beach toys?”

“Uh huh.”

L!MC and Lucifer were running through the long list of items as the rest of the family loaded everything into their (several) cars. Mammon grunted and shoved one of three umbrellas into a gap in the piles of luggage, they were all packing the rapidly filling car like they were playing a game of Tetris from hell.

“Ya know, you two can try and, I dunno, help a little?!”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and looked up from his list. “I am helping, Mammon. I’m making sure this doesn’t end up like the last family vacation we took.”

“What happened last time?” The soft voice of A!MC piped up, they were carrying roughly four different carryon bags into one of the cars.

“Mammon forgot to pack sunscreen during our last little visit to a human world beach and we all got horrifically sunburned. That’s why this year we’ll be visiting a proper Devildom beach.” Lucifer explained.

“That stupid mistake nearly cost me my perfect skin.” Asmo grumbled, A!MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t feel too bad, dad. You look great!”

“Oh little butterfly,” Asmo patted A!MC on their head, much to the kid’s delight. “Go on~.”

“Hey pop!” Mammon’s head whirled around as he looked for the source of the voice. “THINK FAST!”

A duffel bag slammed into the side of Mammon’s head, knocking him into the side of the car.

“What the hell M!MC?!”

The little culprit gave their dad a fanged megawatt smile and shrugged. “I said think fast.”

“M!MC, he can’t think fast, he doesn’t have a brain.” Asmo smirked over at Mammon, who not so graciously flipped him off. A blast of water from wiped both the smirk and some of the makeup off Asmo’s face.

“Whoops,” M!MC lowered their water gun. “Misfire.”

Lucifer massaged his temples as he watched this complete and utter chaos unfold. This was ridiculous, he turned to L!MC. “I refuse to subject you to this, I don’t was CPS to come knocking. You are riding with Lord Diavolo and I.”

“Wooop!” L!MC cheered, then paused. “Was I not riding with you two before now?”

——————

After arriving and unpacking, everyone set out to the beach, per Lucifer’s totally reasonable beach rules, no cameras within eight feet of the beach. Asmo had to compromise and take his Devilgram selfies at Diavolo’s villa in the five minute window of time before everyone set out for the beach.

While the group made their way to the beach, M!MC proudly presented their shiny new metal detector to the crowd of not too impressed family members. Well, everyone but Mammon, he was hyped as all hell to try and find buried treasure.

As M!MC and A!MC lagged behind and chattered aimlessly, something flew right into M!MC’s face. Reeling at the sudden loss of their sight, M!MC’s hands flew to their face and peeled the thing off of them. A…piece of paper..?

No, not a piece of paper, it was a map! Well, half of a map!

“Woah… Pop! Check it!” M!MC waved the piece of paper in the air. “What if we use this to find treasure or something?”

Mammon’s eyes practically sparkled as he swiped the map from M!MC. “Kid, we’re gonna be rich. Not the lame kinda rich either, we’ll be… multiple yacht rich!”

“Oh geez…” A!MC murmured.

By the time the entire group had gotten to the actual beach, Mammon and M!MC had already had the layout of their fabulous Hollywood mansion planned out and were busily describing the kinds of cars they wanted to own. Armed with only half a treasure map and a metal detector, the two set off down the beach.

L!MC, Belphie, and Satan snickered like a bunch of kids as they set up their new pink unicorn floaty. It was just perfect for just slightly ticking off Lucifer. A!MC hummed happily as they unpacked all their sand toys, perfect for making a sand-empire! The rest of the adults set up the umbrellas and beach chairs and practically deflated when all the work was finished.

Hang on- where was Levi- OH! There he was. He had ran right into the water and was petting Lotan. Man… Lotan was fucking massive.

“Hey, Luke,” L!MC called out. “Why are you wearing water wings? You know those things don’t work, right?”

“H-huh?” Luke tilted his head in confusion. Like a chihuahua- “What do you mean?”

“Well, water wings aren’t like life jackets, water wings only keep your arms out of water. If you start to drown, those aren’t helping.” L!MC dutifully explained. “There are documented cases in the human world of kids drowning with their arms still afloat because of the water wings.”

Luke was having such a good day forty five seconds prior, now he was petrified.

——————

“Ah, this is the life, right Sea Monster Levi?” L!MC leisurely floated around on their giant pink unicorn floatie as Levi swam around them.

Levi couldn’t exactly speak, but the terrifying eldritch shriek of delight was enough of an answer.

“See, you should go outside more often, the ocean is outside, fresh air is outside,” L!MC continued to list lovely things that just happened to be outside until Lotan poked four of his heads above water. “Lotan’s outside,”

Levi grumbled and slammed his tail into the water, sending a massive wave over to L!MC.

“Fuck.”

Those were L!MC’s last words before the wave crashed into them and tipped over the floatie, leaving them angrily starfish floating in the water. “You fucking hikikomori.”

—————

A!MC carefully placed their bucket full of sand onto the ground upside down and slowly pulled the bucket away. Perfect! That made a great castle tower! The sand-city that A!MC had concocted could put any city to shame, there was a town hall, a bank, a museum, and multiple construction projects headed by Luke. Well, the chihuahua wasn’t doing too well with his castle-building.

“Aww…” Luke pouted as his castle crumbled. “I ruined it…”

“You should add a bit of water to the sand, Luke.” A!MC said as they carefully placed some seashell decorations around their castle tower. “It’ll help stop your towers from crumbling.”

Luke vehemently shook his head. “There’s no way I’m going near that water. Not after what L!MC said…”

“Luke, L!MC’s just being a butt, you won’t drown-” A!MC was unceremoniously cut off by Lotan rising from the depths of the ocean and L!MC’s squawk of protest when he began to bat their unicorn floatie around.

“Y-yeah… I won’t drown, I’ll be eaten by a sea monster…” Luke shuddered.

“A!MC, I’m living here.” Belphie laid his towel out a little ways away from the sand-city and collapsed into a snoring heap on the sand.

“Great! A new citizen!” A!MC smiled and clapped their hands. “Beel, are you going to join us?”

Beel took a large bite out of a watermelon and sat down next to Belphie. “Yeah, I’m going to live here too.”

“We’ve got a real kingdom now!”

—————

The metal detector beeped for the thousandth time that day and M!MC and Mammon were beginning to get tired. They had found a total of 45 cents and a bottle cap, not the heaps of pirate treasure their map promised.

“Alright old man, dig.” M!MC lazily motioned towards the spot in the sand where the metal detector beeped.

“Why do I gotta dig?” Mammon whined. “You do it this time!”

“I’m holding the metal detector!” M!MC snapped. “Lookit! This shit’s heavy!”

“UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH.” Mammon dropped to his knees and began to dig, unearthing a second bottle cap.

“Have our intrepid treasure hunters struck gold yet?” The taunting voice of Satan wormed its way into M!MC and Mammon’s ears as they both rolled their eyes.

“Why do you care, Satan?” M!MC sneered. “Shouldn’t you be off waxing philosophical about the demon condition or some other pretentious shit right now?”

Satan scoffed and shook his head. “So you haven’t found anything, shocker.”

“Ya didn’t answer the question, Satan.”

“Fine, you two dumbasses forgot to bring water after you immediately ran to go find your treasure.” Satan chucked two metal water bottles at Mammon, both of which hit him in the face. “So where’s your little treasure map?”

M!MC grumbled and pulled the map out of their pocket. “Here.”

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the map, then looked back up at Mammon and M!MC. “I’d expect this level of idiocy from Mammon, but not you, M!MC.”

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” M!MC and Mammon shouted in unison.

Satan flipped the map around so it was facing the pair, he pointed at the X. “You’re supposed to be going that way,” Satan pointed back towards where they had set up the towels and umbrellas.

“…shit.” Mammon murmured. “I swear if we just wasted two fuckin’ hours on this-”

“Don’t blame me! I’m a mathematician, not a fucking geographer!” M!MC hissed.

“Actually, cartographers are the ones that make maps-”

“SHUT UP SATAN!”

——————

“Ugh… I hate the ocean now…” L!MC trudged over to Lucifer and plopped themselves down next to him. “0/10. Next year, can we go somewhere with significantly less seaweed?”

Lucifer wordlessly pulled a clump of sea-gunk out of L!MC’s hair and dropped it on the sand next to them. The fucking gunk-thing then began to MOVE-

“…is that alive?”

“Probably.”

L!MC grabbed the thing and threw it as hard as they could into the water. “I’m not allowing that eldritch terror the privilege of evolving.”

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “This is karma for the unicorn floaty.”

“That wasn’t even all my idea!” L!MC hugged their knees to their chest and grumbled. “Where’s Belphie, Satan and M!MC’s karma?!”

“I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

“Now would be nice…” L!MC growled.

“If you’re going to go sit and whine for the rest of the day you can walk back to the villa by yourself.”

“Ugh!” L!MC threw up their hands and walked away. “So Belphie can angst all he wants but I can’t?! This is bullshit!”

“LANGUAGE!”

—————

A!MC’s burgeoning kingdom had grown in population in the last few hours; Barbatos and Diavolo had moved in and were gleefully helping out with the construction projects (well, Dia was gleeful, Barbatos was standing off to the side holding lemonade), Simeon had joined in and was making a moat, and L!MC was designing the flag.

“Our walls will be impenetrable!” Diavolo proclaimed as he continued to reinforce the sand-walls. “No one would dare invade us!”

“Where’s our sand-army? I call dibs on being sand-general.” L!MC raised their hand. “Luke, you can be a sand soldier.”

“Huh?”

“Here’s your sand-sword.”

“L!MC this is driftwood…”

“Hit a bitch with it.”

“There will be no hitting of any bitches.” Simeon gently took the driftwood from Luke and chucked it into the ocean.

“Lame…” L!MC rolled their eyes.

A little while into the kingdom building, A!MC surveyed their land with a proud smile. Every little building was adorably decorated with shells and pebbles, the roads were laid out perfectly, the castle was stable… Ah. Perfection!

A familiar trio sauntered over looking down at their map and occasionally back up at the surrounding beach until they stopped right outside the moat outside of A!MC’s kingdom. Satan, Mammon, and M!MC looked up at the group and pointed their shovel and metal detector at them.

“Hey kiddos, and… not kiddos. We’re gonna need ya to move over. There’s treasure in the area and we gotta dig!” Mammon proclaimed, standing up straight and putting a hand on his hip.

“Uh… no?” A!MC sat down on their beach chair, but to them, it was more like a throne. “We spent forever building this, we aren’t just going to let you destroy it.”

“Can’t you build somewhere else?” M!MC waved their hand to a place farther down the beach that was just littered with holes from M!MC and Mammon’s treasure hunting. “Couldn’t have taken that long.”

“Are you stupid or just ignorant?” L!MC hissed, protectively moving in front of the sand-wall next to Diavolo. “This took literal hours. You three can piss off.”

“L!MC, don’t be dramatic.” Satan rolled his eyes, then looked to the adults. “Come on guys, this may actually lead to something historical. Can you guys move out?”

“Uh… fuck off?” Belphie sleepily looked up from his towel. “We were here first. Finders keepers.”

“Yeah,” Beel paused his job of helping clean up the toys and buckets. “Belphie napped here, this spots been claimed.”

Barbatos and Diavolo nodded in agreement.

“A!MC has claimed this land, therefore, it’s their kingdom.” Diavolo said.

“Guys, this ain’t a joke! There’s actual treasure here!” Mammon waved the map in the air.

“That doesn’t matter. our sandcastles, our rules.” Luke crossed his arms and huffed.

“Oh bullshit! Move over! Money and treasure is under your city and we’ll take it by force if we have to!” M!MC crossed his arms and glared.

“Really now~?” L!MC cooed, slamming their fist against their open palm. “Fucking try us.”

————

A fight would have broken out if it weren’t for Lucifer calling for everyone to eat. Everyone sat down on their towels and angrily munched on their macaroni salad and sandwiches.

Team Treasure hunter (it was generous to call them a team considering there was only three of them) were forming a plan to try and get passed the much larger Team Sandcastle. M!MC and Satan bounced ideas off of each other while Mammon stole everyone’s potato chips.

“So, we need to lure at least some of them away… but how?” M!MC stuck their hand into the much reduced bowl of chips and took out a fistful.

“Mmm…” Satan murmured. “Well, there’s a thief in our midst…”

M!MC knitted their eyebrows in confusion, then began to nod in understanding. “Ah… and we have someone very quick…”

Both Satan and M!MC turned to Mammon, who was polishing off the chips and counting their metal detector money. He stopped mid chew and tilted his head.

“What are ya lookin’ at?”

Over with Team Sandcastle, L!MC carefully traced Belphie’s hand onto a piece of paper with a vindictive smirk on both their faces.

“What are you doing?” Luke asked as he bit into his kebab.

“It’s an official declaration of war.” L!MC quickly finished up the tracing and proudly showed the picture of Belphie’s middle finger to the assembled team. “I think it’s very clear and concise.”

Simeon slapped a palm to his forehead as Luke let out a gasp.

“L!MC! That’s so vulgar and awful-” Luke’s irate yapping went completely ignored.

“It’s a very nice picture.” Beel calmly observed, turning over the paper in his hands.

“Enough about the declaration!” A!MC stood up and put their hands on their hips. “We need to take action immediately! I’m not letting our sand kingdom fall into their hands!”

“We know that A!MC, but we need to at least give them some kind of warning that we’re going to beat them into the ground.” L!MC said.

“They got their warning. Now is not the time for being polite, now is the time for curb stomping.”

“Is it just me,” Belphie leaned over to Beel and cartoonishly whispered. “Or is A!MC getting really intense about this?”

—————

Team Treasure Hunter’s battle plan did not go as well as they thought it would. Satan and M!MC did not factor the fact that Mammon would be stealing something and then running in sand, and next to no one can properly run in fluffy beach sand, what this poor narrator is trying to say is that Mammon got football tackled immediately because he couldn’t run after he stole something as a distraction. Oh well… at least the sand was soft…

Team Sandcastle’s superior numbers meant superior ideas, and one of their ideas was for A!MC to politely ask some of the beach dwelling creepy crawlies to attack the other team. Well uh… toes were pinched that day…

“Fools,” A!MC sat straighter in their beach chair. “All of them.”

“I’m loving the supervillain vibes, A!MC, but-”

“But nothing!” A!MC cut L!MC off with a huff. “I’m not a supervillain either!”

“Sounds like something a supervillain would say.” Belphie snickered, only to be blasted in the face with a water gun. A!MC was turning on their own people…

“Alright, everyone who dares to doubt me gets the water gun.” A!MC sneered. “My kingdom won’t fall!”

The kingdom fell.

One giant wave caused by Lotan and Levi playing in the water nearby crashed onto the beach and absolutely flattened the detailed sand kingdom. A!MC slowly moved their hair out of their eyes and turned to Lotan and Levi in the water.

“You… you…” A!MC growled, a tick forming in their right eye. “YOU SHUT-IN PIECE OF [Hello, this is the narrator, I’m very sorry but I cannot repeat what little A!MC said here. I hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive them for this outburst, their kingdom just got destroyed after all.]”

Simeon vaulted forward and covered Luke’s ears while the rest of the group on the beach stared in wide eyed shock as their sweet little A!MC cussed out two giant sea monsters. This was… not what they expected from their beach trip…

Beel quickly recovered from his shock and scooped A!MC up into his arms. A!MC didn’t seem to care all that much as they continued to kick and scream profanity at the giant sea monsters. Beel lumbered over to Asmo and handed the screeching A!MC to him.

“This is yours.”

“…Beel dear,” Asmo looked at the practically feral child that had managed to shift into their demon form, then looked to Beel. “Are you sure?”

——————

Ever the opportunists, Team Treasure Hunter managed to dig in the area where the sand kingdom once stood. After roughly an hour of digging, Mammon struck something… wooden. Hmm…

“Hey I uh… think I found somethin’!”

“Really?” M!MC exclaimed. “Lemme see! Let’s get it out!”

“Allow me,” Diavolo motioned for everyone to move away and leaned in. He yanked a massive treasure chest out of the sand like it was nothing and plopped it onto the beach. “Oh! It is a treasure chest! How novel!”

Mammon jumped forward and yanked the chest open, inside was an absolute mess of glimmering gold and jewelry.

“DON’T TOUCH THAT.” Lucifer’s booming voice stopped Mammon dead in place. Everyone’s heads swivelled to look at him. “It’s probably cursed gold, you idiots.”

“As much as I hate to agree with Lucifer, we should at least check before we touch anything.” Satan crossed his arms and grumbled.

The gold was hella cursed and basically useless. No one went back to the villa happy.

———————

A!MC sulkily kicked off their shoes and flopped backwards onto their bed. They stared half-vacantly up at the ceiling, they were so tired despite the fact that they hadn’t even gone swimming… they had spent their entire day building that stupid sandcastle kingdom…

M!MC flopped down next to them and let out an explosive sigh. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry about your sandcastle stuff…”

A!MC sighed and shrugged. “Yeah… sorry about your treasure…”

“Yeah… so far this trip blows.”

L!MC flopped down next to A!MC and practically deflated.

“What’s wrong with you?” M!MC asked, rolling over onto their side to look at their cousin.

“I’m in mourning…” L!MC grumbled, holding up a piece of pink stretchy plastic. “Lotan ate my unicorn floaty.”

“Aww… I’m sorry L!MC.” A!MC patted them on the shoulder. “Let’s go fight Lotan and Levi for revenge.”

“A!MC. I’m grieving, not suicidal.” L!MC said seriously, then their face melted into a grin as they began to giggle. “Dummy…”

“I’m not a dummy! I think we might have a chance!”

“Yeah, a chance of gettin’ eaten!” M!MC snickered.

“Okay… maybe…” A!MC giggled.

“Hey guys,” Simeon knocked on the door and poked his head in. “We’re making a fire for s’mores, you all better hurry up before Beel gets to everything.”

The three kids stuck their thumbs up and got ready to go. S’mores fix everything!

————

Author’s note: Okay, back in like… May, I promised I’d write a beach day episode for these characters, and it’s finally done!!

The whole sandcastle war is something that actually happened when I went to a summer camp ^.^

It was less about digging for treasure and more about who had the best sandcastles, and I shit you not, a wave slammed into the rival team’s sandcastle. It was funny as S H I T. HA! TAKE THAT RIVAL TEAM! MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE MADE YOUR CITY SO CLOSE TO THE WATER!

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #Obey me MC #Obey me Fic #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Satan #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Luke #Obey me Diavolo

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heymacy · 3 years ago

Note

I love all those sentence prompts you just posted.😂 But I feel like the most appropriate one is probably:

“So why did I have to punch that guy?”

Thank you Arrow!! 💗

Ridiculous Sentence Prompts: "So why did I have to punch that guy?"

There were only a few things left in the world that made Mickey really, really angry.

The first was their property manager, Melanie, and her stupid-ass dog with its stupid, stupid diaper.

The second was the fact that a single can of beer cost four times more on the West Side than it did back in their old neighborhood. What special brand of bullshit were these crunchy granola hippies trying to churn out at the Wine, Etc. store, anyway?

The third thing, and probably the only one that would stick around after he adjusted to his new life above the poverty line, was any time that anyone disrespected, hurt, or even mildly annoyed his husband.

Every time they dealt with an irritating client or an overzealous new employee, Mickey would clench his teeth and fight the urge to knock them on their ass. One hit was all it would take, he knew that for certain. He'd taken down Ian's exes, family members, hell, even Ian himself on a few occasions, with a single punch to the throat.

Now, he was an adult, a business owner, a husband and partner that needed to play by society's rules if they were ever going to crawl out of the gutter completely.

The very idea made Mickey's teeth ache.

He bit his bottom lip while they sat side-by-side in their booth at the Alibi, waiting for some schmuck to meet them for an interview.

"We need to start interviewing the guys we hire, Mickey," Ian had said one night while cooking dinner. He chopped the carrots and celery on the wooden cutting board while Mickey sat slumped on the couch, nursing a beer and watching a TikTok Mandy had sent him earlier that day.

He looked up at his husband as he watched an orange and white cat chow down on kibble after his automatic feeder malfunctioned.

Mandy 🌻 (6:09pm): plz tell ian this is him in cat form

Mickey snorted at his phone, barely registering Ian's comment.

"Mick?" Ian tried again, and Mickey looked up from his phone.

"Hmm?" he replied through a mouthful of beer.

"I said we need to start interviewing the guys we hire," Ian said again, using the knife to scrape the carrots and celery off of the cutting board and into the giant pot he had boiling on the stove. Mickey wasn't sure what he was making, but it smelled amazing.

"What for? Those resumé things ain't good enough for you?" Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side as he tried to hide a smirk.

Ian rolled his eyes and used the comically oversized wooden spoon to stir his soup.

"No, Mick. So we don't have another Connor situation."

Mickey snorted. Connor was a dipshit they'd hired back in April to help with pickups, a dipshit that had cost the company almost $2,500 after he "forgot" to make the deposit with Ian and Mickey at the end of his scheduled route.

"I mean, his name's Connor. Kinda feel like you should've known what you were walkin' in to with that one."

"I'm serious," Ian said. "Interviews. We gotta do 'em." He stirred the soup vigorously, the spoon clanking against the side of the pot with every twist.

Mickey sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, we'll interview some new guys. But we're not doing it at a Starbucks or some shit. I'm not ready to go full West Side." He scrunched up his nose and made a face, to which Ian just chuckled.

"Glad you're on board," he teased, getting back to work on his soup, which had started to bubble.

Kev and Vee had moved to Louisville a month before, transferring ownership of the bar to Carl and Officer Tipping, who promised to keep everything just as it was. It gave Mickey a sense of calm knowing that even as the rest of his old neighborhood was slipping away, his adolescent stomping grounds now littered with coffee shops and yoga studios, some things remained the same.

He ran his fingers along the familiar crack in the table, a sharp sensation prodding the pads of his fingertips and helping him forget, even temporarily, what they were there to do.

Ian smacked the back of Mickey's hand gently.

"Stop it," he said, referring to the way Mickey was two seconds away from giving himself a splinter.

Mickey huffed and rolled his eyes.

"What's this guy's name again?"

Ian looked at his phone where he had an email pulled up. He glanced over the message then scrolled to the bottom.

"Derek," he said plainly.

"Derek," Mickey mocked, and Ian whacked him in the chest with the back of his hand.

"Knock it off," he said, and Mickey rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever. He's late anyway, let's just bail and go get some pizza."

"He's not late, Mickey. It's only..." he looked at his watch. "3:58. He's got three minutes until he's late."

Just then, as if summoned by Ian's voice, a tall, lanky, blond man walked through the front door of the bar and made his way towards the back corner booth where Ian and Mickey sat.

"You guys Ian and Mackie?"

Ian snorted as he tried to hide his laughter. Mickey rolled his eyes a third time, this time so hard that it was honestly impressive he didn't snap his optic nerves in the process.

"Mickey," Ian corrected politely. He nudged his husband with his elbow and the two of them climbed out of the booth to meet with their interviewee.

Ian shook his hand firmly.

"I'm Ian, and this is my husband Mickey." He smiled and turned to Mickey, who was standing with his hands in his pockets and giving Derek, all six feet two inches of him, an intense once-over. Elbowing his husband for a second time, Mickey relented, pulling his hands from his pockets and reaching out to shake Derek's hand. His giant palm was cold and clammy but also somehow uncomfortably hot. Mickey grimaced.

"Hey," he said gruffly. "Mickey."

"Derek," the other man said as they shook hands. "So you two are married?"

Ian nodded.

"Little over a year now, yeah."

Derek nodded.

"Cool, cool, cool," he said, nodding and looking around. "So this place is...interesting."

The judgmental and condescending way Derek said "interesting" wasn't new or unusual to either of them, but tall lanky blond bitches with North Side energy and a terrible fade saying "interesting" like they wanted to say "disgusting" made Mickey's blood boil.

He clenched his fist without even realizing what he was doing. Ian noticed immediately when Mickey's shoulders tensed up, stiffening in a way that reminded Ian of a startled cat, and he turned to climb back in the booth. He squeezed Mickey's arm once, twice, and dragged him down into the booth with him.

"It was a family friend's place," Ian said, nonchalant, eager to move the conversation away from the Alibi and towards their business. "So, Derek, on your resume, I see that you worked--"

Derek cut Ian off mid-sentence.

"Have they ever thought about turning this place into some sort of art installation or something? Just with the open floor plan and the exposed pipes, it's very pseudo-industrial-chic."

If they hadn't already assumed before by his distinct vocal fry and the smell of coconut hair gel, Derek's use of the term "pseudo-industrial-chic" solidified what the other two already knew: there were three gay motherfuckers in this booth.

Ian stuttered for a second, surprised by Derek's interjection and resistance to changing the subject.

"Don't think so, no." He grabbed his phone and opened up the Gmail app again. "So, anyway, your resume says you worked at--"

"You know what would be really cool in here? A movement class. I went to one in LA once that was hosted by Gwyneth Paltrow and it was liberating."

Mickey snorted and Ian elbowed him in the ribs.

"I bet it was," Ian said, unamused at Derek's refusal to talk about his work history. "So you worked at--"

"Have you guys ever been to LA? Oh my god, it's the best. So chic. I mean, I'm from Evanston originally, so basically anything is chic in comparison. I mean, not here, obviously, but you know. Other places."

Ian sighed.

"Totally," he said. "So, your work history, it says--"

"Hey, do you guys know what the best dispensary is around here? Preferably something upscale, with those iPads you can order on. I need a few new carts--"

"Dude," Mickey cut in. "Can you shut the fuck up for five seconds?"

Derek looked surprised, and Mickey could hear Ian's sharp, apprehensive inhale.

"Excuse me?" Derek said, holding his hand to his chest.

"He's been trying to ask you the same question since we sat down, and you won't shut the fuck up about chic cities and weed, so if you could just answer our questions, that would be great." He looked over at Ian, whose eyes were wide and hesitant, unsure about how things were about to unfold.

"You're very rude," Derek said to Mickey, giving him a scowl.

Mickey snorted.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

Derek's eyes narrowed and his forehead wrinkled up, agitated.

"You should be nicer to the people you want to hire." He crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Mickey laughed out loud.

"Dude, who says we wanna hire you? I'm pretty sure if you worked for us, I'd blow my brains out in the first two minutes."

Ian tried and failed miserably to conceal his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand and looking down at the table. Mickey leaned over towards his husband.

"I kinda wanna punch this guy in the mouth," he mumbled, and Ian side-eyed him from where he sat beside him.

"Please don't," he replied in a whisper before composing himself and turning back to Derek.

"Look, Derek, you seem like a nice guy, but I don't think this is gonna work out." He held out his hand to signal that the interview was over, but Derek didn't return his handshake. Instead, he pouted like a toddler that had just been scolded for bad behavior.

"Your husband's a dick," Derek said to Ian, and Mickey could literally feel Ian's body stiffen next to him.

"Hey," Mickey said, putting his hand on Ian's knee. "Forget it. Let's go get pizza."

"No," Ian said sternly, turning back to Derek. "Listen, dude, you're also kind of a dick, so why don't we just call this a wash and you can go track down your carts or whatever."

Mickey bit his lip, fighting a smile. He secretly loved when Ian got defensive, as long as it wasn't directed towards him.

"You're both dicks!" Derek said, slamming his hands down on the table. He slid out of the booth and stood up, and Mickey and Ian did the same. The three men stood there, Derek facing the husbands with a pissed-off expression.

"You should go," Ian said, pointing at the door.

Derek snorted.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When the ad said South Side, I knew there was a good chance the owners were a couple of trashy, ghetto assholes. But him?" He pointed at Mickey. "He's a world-class dick."

Before Derek could say anything else, he was cut off by a fist to the jaw and dropped to the floor, unconscious.

The ambient chatter and loud clacking of billiard balls came to a halt as the regulars that sat scattered around the Alibi turned in unison to see what had happened. Once they identified the source of the loud "thud" as one of the Gallagher-Milkovich boys knocking out some blond giant, they immediately turned back to their various activities.

Just another day on the South Side.

Ian cupped his right fist in his left hand and turned to Mickey, bewildered.

"I just punched that guy, Mick," he said, genuinely surprised. "I knocked him out. Shit."

Mickey shrugged.

"He kinda deserved it."

Ian looked at Mickey with a really? sort of expression and shook his head back and forth.

"Still," he said, turning to look at Derek, sprawled out unconscious on the floor like a rag doll.

"C'mon man, it's fine. He'll come to, and when he does, we'll be long gone." He grabbed Ian's upper arm and gave him a tug, but Ian just sat back down in the booth.

"Why did I do that?" he asked, but Mickey knew he was talking only to himself. He sat down beside his husband, stepping over Derek's long ass leg on his way back to the booth.

"I mean, you kinda had to."

Ian looked over at Mickey, eyebrows raised. He stared at his husband for a moment, puzzling, before breaking into a smile.

"What?" Mickey asked, confused as to how Ian could go from having some sort of moral crisis over knocking out a hipster to grinning gleefully at his husband in a half second. Ian reached over and put his hand on Mickey's thigh. Immediately, the mood shifted. Pool cues squeaked as they were chalked up and glasses clinked on the countertops. The distinct chhh-chhh sound of a spray bottle punctured Mickey's ear drums as he looked down at his husband's hand on his thigh.

"So," Ian said, voice quieter than before. "Why did I have to punch that guy?"

Mickey smirked. He could be honest, and say the obvious reason, which was that Derek was a total douche canoe and deserved to be socked in the mouth by someone his own size. He could lie, and say it was because Derek seemed dangerous and Ian was just following his instincts, but that would have been the lie of the fucking century.

Instead, he said neither, and opted for something he knew would make Ian smile.

"Because you love me."

Ian's face broke into a full grin and he giggled, leaning over to kiss his husband once, quickly, well-aware of Mickey's hesitancy towards PDA when they were out and about on the South Side.

When he pulled back, he was smirking, and Mickey knew his cheeks were flushed. He hadn't been expecting the kiss, however brief it was, and his stomach felt a little fluttery.

"I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that just stands by and lets people talk shit about the man he loves." He grinned and Mickey rolled his eyes, remembering Ian telling him about the last words he'd said to Glittery Twink Byron the night they'd gotten engaged.

"You're a fuckin' sap, man."

"True," Ian said, standing up from the booth and stepping over Derek's leg as Mickey had done minutes before. He reached out his hand and pulled his husband from the booth. The two of them stood there momentarily, staring at Derek's lump of a body on the sticky, peanut-shell covered floor.

"Should we like, do something?" Mickey asked, kicking Derek's foot with his own boot. The man didn't move a muscle. Mickey wondered for a second if he might be dead, but the shallow rise and fall of the douche canoe's chest let him know that unfortunately, for all of humankind, the asshole was still alive.

Ian shook his head.

"Nah, he can sleep it off."

He reached down and took Mickey's hand in his own.

"C'mon," he said as he dragged them both towards the door. "Let's go get pizza."

#writing prompts #sentence prompts #ficlet #the husband energy is strong with this one #shameless

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hajime-isayama-official · 4 years ago

Note

One main arguments I’ve seen from non Jewish and poc snk Stan’s and that will have that one token Jewish person or friend who says they are not offended and snk isn’t anti Semitic or Nazi propaganda. Or say well isayama isn’t a anti Korean racist or Japanese imperialist that’s all been proven fake blah blah blah. Even if it’s fake the series is still problematic stop using that one Jewish person who isn’t offended they don’t speak for all Jewish people obviously-part 1

Part 2 he also named miksasa after a imperial Japanese battle ship and dot pixels is based off of a Nazi Japanese imperialist I think? Same for Erwin I might be wrong that’s what I looked up. I’m personally not comfortable supporting the series anymore for valid reasons but it’s honestly so hard to find blogs like you who criticize the series and author I’ve only found a small amount of blogs who acknowledge the problematic aspects in both manga and anime unfortunately :(

Oh Anon, you get me going here.

Yes, Mikasa is named after a very successful battleship (it’s supposedly certain success if your manga has a character named after a battleship).

Pixis was inspired by a Japanese imperial general. He died before WW2 tho. Anyway that sparked huge controversy with the Japanese fans, leading to hate messages towards Yams for years.

German SNK Wiki claims Erwin was inspired by Erwin Rommel, a general in WW1 and WW2 who later turned against Hitler (it’s fine cause he wasn’t REALLY a Nazi, right? no.). Erwin’s Birthday is the death day of Erwin Rommel. However, since I can’t find a source I’d take that one with a grain of salt. The main Inspiration for Erwin as a character is Ozymandias from Watchmen. So only fictional mass murder for Erwin here lol

These points are already kinda icky, but can be ignored I guess. Of course SNK searches inspiration in military. It’s a series about literal Child Soldiers (which somehow is never a critic point on any anime/manga?!). However it’s also full of dogwhistles and even more uncomfortable references.

My main points are the portrayal of grey-morality on the case of genocide and the way Isayama clearly draws inspiration from Nazi Germany when he portrays Marley. The latter is not per say problematic. Fullmetal Alchemist is also inspired by The Third Reich and carries a strong anti-imperalist and anti-nazi message. SNK however falls short on that till now. I am not Jewish myself, so I can obviously not determine what is antisemitic and only point out the obvious. Plus my knowledge of things is obviously limited so feel free to correct or join in.

Isayama pretty much paints the Eldians as the Jews of this “mirror world” World War we witness since the time skip. This is clear by the imagery of the Ghettos he shows, the armbands the Eldians have to wear and much more (Short images search should do the job here). The coding of the Eldians as Jewish equivalent is complete with the Marleyan myth of Eldians ruling the world if no one does anything to hold them in control (aka every antisemitic conspiracy ever). But it doesn’t end there. We know from the manga that Paradis island is basically Madagaskar.

The Nazis planned to deport about 4 million Polish Jews to Madagaskar in the 1940′s. That plan was shortlived and obviously never put into action for various reasons. So in SNK we have the scenario that the Eldians fled to Paradis in order to get an advantage over the Marleyans. The Eldians who are not on Paradis live in Ghettos on the mainland. That’s a weird coincidence, considering how many islands our big blue planet has.

What I think is pretty bizarre is that Isayama distorts this by pairing this imo pretty obvious real live inspiration with references to Norse mythology. This is fucked up in so far that Norse mythology is so heavily appropriated by the Nazis that many runes are outlawed in Germany till today and showing interest in Norse mythology is still often associated with white supremacy (have a look at Neo-Nazi signs and see the pattern). Like, this combination of Norse and early 20th century German imagery isn’t even a dogwhistle anymore, it’s yelling “I SUCK NAZI DICK AND I LIKE IT”. The references he uses are especially Ymir and the paths, that can then be seen as the world tree Yggdrasil:

The tree connects the Eldians and the nine titans which share their number with the nine realms that Yggdrasil holds. There’s some more, tiny stuff, like Erwin being easily interpreted as a reference to the God Tyr (God of battle, who loses his right arm in the mouth of a beast) and Hanji to the God Odin (Losing an eye in a well in the pursuit of gaining knowledge and wisdom). Both of these Gods are probably the most appropriated by white supremacists. When Ymir first turns into a titan it is at castle Utgard. In Norse mythology Utgard is a place in Jotunheim, the realm of the Jotun who the giant Ymir is the first ancestor of.

In general the pairing of clear WW2 imagery and references to Norse mythology is a mixture that is VERY sketchy and should always make you suspicious. Especially since these two are not going together (as in Marley using references to Norse mythology), but against each other. So we have both sides (Marley and Eldia) associated with white supremacy. Another thing that I will never be over is that Zeke and Eren are obviously named in reference to the German words Sieg und Ehre (Victory and Honor) referencing white supremacist buzzwords.

Then we have the issue that the main conflict is not with the Marley people, who are basically our mirrorworld Nazis. The conflict is AMONG the Eldians. Liberating the Eldians form the Marleyans is not even a thing, because we’re busy keeping two Eldians from practicing genocide/euthanasia on their own kind. So in this aspect Eldians are painted basically just as bad as Marleyans (and we have that “everyone is wrong in a war” Issue again).

I think in the end Eren’s will to kill everyone will lead to Eldians and Marley people accepting their differences or whatever and leading to unision in the shared enemy (kind of already happens in the manga) and while I think that’s a possibly interesting way to go it’s imo not when one of those parties has been subjected to centuries of genocide by the other. Assistant says a good closure to the Norse Mythology theme would be the manga going for Ragnarök, so everyone, Marleyan and Eldian, dies, except for two people who start the world anew. After all anisemitism or in this case anti-eldian sentiment doesn’t just stop after a world war. I don’t really fuck with this bullshit we got in one of the recent chapters where this one Marley general was like “Oh no, they were only people after all”. Bro, your whole society is built on them not being people and all of that is gone in one day of crisis? *doubt.png*

There’s obviously more to it than that and especially my understanding of the manga might be a bit off, since I don’t read it as attentively as I used to anymore. At this point I’m so fucking suspicious of this manga tbh. I doubt that we can come out of this with an anti-imperialist or anti-fascist message.

This does of course not mean no one should read or watch the manga or anime. I read/watch it too as you see. But it’s always good to be critical of the media you consume and take concerns from others serious, when it comes to stuff like this.

#oof #long post #ppl are not gonna like this lol #Anon #nazi mention

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nadisabug · 4 years ago

Text

Anything You Want

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x reader

Warnings: reader is kinda depressed, idk she convinces herself that no one (Kei) could like her, so warning for that, no spoilers though, ooc Tsukki, I am so sorry this was a one am fever dream im sor-

Summary: As old childhood friends of Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, it doesn’t make sense why Tsukishima and you fight so much.

A/N: Ahh I’m so sorry I woke up out of a cold sweat to write this whole thing in one sitting at one am im just 💛love💙 him!! Also!!! I hit 150 followers!! So excited!!! I love you all so much!! Thank you!!!!! (ps requests are open pls send some in)

Haikyuu!! Masterlist

"Kiss me Kei!"

"What? Tch, no that's gross."

"But I'm the mommy!"

"So?"

"You're the daddy! You gotta!"

"I don't even wanna play this dumb game."

"It's not dumb! Pleeaaasseee Kei-chan! For me?"

"Fine, come here."

The slap of the ball hitting the gym floor startled me out of my daydream. My eyes snapped up quickly to the game before me. Did we score? It took me a minute to even register what was going on and who I was looking at. I looked to the referee on his stepladder, waiting for him to call the point.

The whistle blew. He raised his arm. Boys in black and orange jerseys shouted. I clapped and cheered.

It all felt so robotic. But then I looked at him. Then the world shifted into slow motion and began to flow more naturally.

He raised his arm to wipe the sweat off of his brow, the movement mesmerizing. Even the jerk of his body when a teammate patted him on the back seemed graceful. Elegant. He pushed his glasses up a bit and glared at the offender. He turned to say-

"Y/n?" Once again I was startled from my thoughts. My head snapped to the right side where Yachi was standing next to me. She had a concerned look on her face. I swallowed, my dry mouth only producing a lump in my throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I responded quickly and looked back to the game. "Just focusing is all." This time I fought not to look at the boy. I didn't want to look at him anyway. I didn't. I didn't.

Finding my eyes drifting back to him, I launched into conversation to pull my mind from him.

"How's the girls team going?"

I was on the girls volleyball team as a first year. I only made the team because I was the only libero and, being honest, I was the best at receiving. I was abnormally short, so I knew I couldn't pull off many other positions.

Well, maybe I could.

I watched as the short, orange haired boy flew across the court and landed an impossible to receive spike. I still wasn't used to that combo no matter how many games I watched. Then again, I only had reflexes, not the raw power that that boy had.

I sighed and tore my eyes from the game to look at Yachi. I slumped onto the railing a plopped my head in my hands. "We need more practice games, honestly. The way we're going we're not going to win our match."

"Don't say that Y/n!" Yachi cried.

I shrugged and looked back at the game. My eyes found blonde hair naturally. "Its true. The girls don't practice enough. I think getting our asses completely handed to us will turn the team around. I just feel bad for the third years who will suffer from it."

Yachi didn't have a response to that. She changed the subject quickly and we chatted until the game ended, the whole time I focused on the freakish number ten instead of the boy I knew deep down in my heart I really wanted to watch.

"Nice net drop, broccoli brain," I smirked and clapped my best friend on the shoulder.

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I didn't even mean to do it," he bereaved.

"Fucking who cares?" I snorted. "Got us a fat point and they never saw it coming. Just remember how it felt and do it again."

"Y/n," Yama whined and tried to shake me off.

"Y/n giving you crap again?" A rich voice came from behind me, sending shivers down my spine. "That's rich coming from Pipsqueak."

"Says Mr-cant-block-for-shit," I shot back, turning around so that I could stick my tongue out at him.

"I'd like to see you try to pick up a real serve, not that-"

"Hey, hey, cut it out!" Yama stepped in between us, putting a warning hand on us both. "We're all friends."

I glared at Tsukishima but backed down. I didn't want to upset Yamaguchi. I knew how much he hated it when we fought, seeing as it was his two best friends.

I had known Yama since elementary school, when I saved him from some bullies. One day when we were clearly out matched, Tsukishima saved us in his aloof, roundabout way. From then on we were inseparable.

That is until the second year of middle school when Tsukishima and I started fighting all the time. Despite that, we still hung out together. Who knows why he put up with my constant antagonism, but he always reciprocated and never complained.

We got on the bus soon after the game, headed to the school. I was on the girls bus, them on the boys. When we got back to the school we met up again.

When we came to the usual splitting point, Yama spoke up.

"So I'll walk Y/n home," Yama offered like always. I was about to accept when Tsukishima spoke up.

"Nah, I'll do it." Yama cocked an eyebrow. "It's out of your way, Yamaguchi. She lives closer to me."

We all knew this, but the point had never come up before.

"Okay," Yama said warily. "Are you sure you don't want me to come anyways?"

"Tch, we're fine, I don't need a babysitter." Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Yama shrugged. He took a few steps backwards before he said goodbye and started off in the opposite direction.

Tsukishima wordlessly took off in the direction of our houses, so I followed. I was wondering why he suddenly offered to walk me home, but he offered no clues as to why. He used to walk me home before we always fought, but after that he stopped. This was the first time he walked me home in years.

So we walked in complete silence.

When we reached my house, we stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at it. I wasn't sure what to say, but before I could figure it out, he spoke.

"Why do you hate me?"

I was startled by both the question and the sudden shattering of silence. I turned to look at Tsukishima. He wasn't looking at me, just straight ahead. I tried to read his facial expression, but like always, it was stone cold.

"I don't?" I answered uneasily.

Tsukishima sighed. "Yes you do, you always act so pissy towards me. You even tense up when I'm near."

"I do not," I frowned. I tried to think if I have ever done anything like that, but I drew blank.

"Yes you do," Tsukishima sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "We..." He paused. He brought he other hand up and rubbed his eyes, pressing his two fingers into his eye sockets. After a moment he threw his hand down, clearly having made up his mind, and turned to look at me. I felt hot under his intent gaze, his eyes searching mine for an answer I was afraid I didn't have. "We used to be close when we were little. What changed."

It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement. It was like he meant to say something different.

So I said it for him.

"We changed."

He scoffed, his face twisting into his signature cynical look. "Bullshit."

"No, that's the answer. Maybe you're not asking the right question," I shot back, confidence fueled by his venom.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it soon after. His brows furrowed and his lips pressed together. It was more emotion than he was exhibiting earlier, and for some weird reason, it made something in me happy.

"Why are you so mad at me?" He finally asked, face relaxing a bit. He seemed genuinely curious as to the answer.

His sincerity almost made me explode with anger. How could he not know? He was the most insufferable person in the entire world, what wouldn't I be mad about.

But then again, that was wrong. He never mad me mad with his snide comments and dirty looks. It was all in play and it never really bothered me, ever since we were kids, and he knew that too. So I couldn't lie and say it was his personality because I loved his personality. It was something else. Something I was afraid of admitting.

I grit my teeth. What did it matter if I said it or not? It's not like he'd understand anyway.

Once I made up my mind I met his eyes.

"Because you will never give me what I want."

"And what is that?" His voice was soft, wispy, breathless. Afraid.

Your love.

I couldn't say it. Bile rose in my throat and tears prickled at my eyes. I opened my mouth but quickly shut it. I wouldn't say it. I was too afraid. My eyes fell to the ground, and with them, all my confidence.

All at once my mind began to barrage me. He will never love you, he could never love someone like you. He-

He laughed.

He fucking laughed.

My mind was thrown to a complete and total standstill by the absurdity of it. I looked back up at him with watery eyes in confusion.

"I thought you were smarter than that," he grinned, one corner of his mouth charmingly quirked upwards. "Than to decide what I think."

"What?" I mumbled nearly incoherently.

"We both know if you ask I'll do anything for you, so quit your crying, Pipsqueak."

I opened my mouth, completely surprised by his confession. He'd do anything for me? That couldn't be right...

But the more I thought about it the more I realized it was true. He had always done everything for me. Whenever I needed him he was there. It was me that started the fighting, all because I let my mind tell me that he could never love me, that he never would.

I met his eyes once again, this time brimming with happiness.

"Kiss me, Kei."

"Fine," he dramatically sighed, hiding a small grin. "Come here."

And he did.

Taglist:

Taglists are open! Shoot me an ask or a dm with what fandom you want to be tagged in and I’ll do it right away! :)

#sorry this is a crack fic #also this is my first haikyu fic pls be gentle #this is not really edited sorry #tsukkishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #haikyu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #tsukki fluff #tsukki x reader #haikyuu tsukki

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realcube · 4 years ago

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everything i love about you // kei tsukishima

tsukishima’s has to write a journal for his english class - so he writes about you because he is a simp.

tw// (she/her) reader, cussing, too much fluff- ?

↳Thursday, October 1st 2020

This is my journal for English class. I will be writing about my girlfriend - (Y/N) (L/N) throughout the day. I’ve chosen her opposed to a friend or a family member because she is very interesting, unlike most of my friends who are just annoying - whilst my family are plain boring. If you can’t already tell, this journal will be written in whatever tone I desire, which is sarcastic 99% of the time.

Well, to begin on a high note, one of the reasons I love like my girlfriend - (Y/N) (L/N) - is because she is tolerant/patient.

For example, this morning she waited an extra 3 minutes for me to arrive at the bus stop - where we usually meet to walk to school together - as I was running a few minutes late due to a ‘bad hair day’. This displays patience.

Also, her friends are some of the most annoying, god-awful people I’ve ever met yet she still hangs out with them. That shows how tolerant she is of their bullshit - it’s honestly quite impressive to see someone throw away every last bit of their dignity just to spend more time with the people that are tearing them down. This could be considered stupidity but I’ll call it tolerance for now because I was told to start this journal with the positives.

↳Friday, October 2nd 2020

“The English language is one the most stupid ones out there.” - that was a factual opinion.

I’m finding it challenging to write this journal with the assistance of google translate and a whole years worth of English notes. It’s a hard language, anyone would agree with me on that. So imagine what sort of genius you’d have to be in order to know the language fluently?

Well, what if I told you that (L/N) can speak English with little to no errors? As well as Japanese! It’s insane, honestly. Which brings me onto my second point, she’s extremely intelligent; another reason I love her. Well, she’s an intelligent dumbass - and I know that’s an oxymoron but let me explain.

Again, she can speak English fluently so if she had taken it as a subject, she’d definitely be the top of the class. She is also passing all her classes with straight As. However, she is still very dumb; throw-back to that one time she mixed up Chernobyl and Auschwitz.

It’s perfect - just the right amount of intelligence that I don’t have to baby her but humble, so she’s not cocky about it. And just the right amount of idiot that she still makes me laugh..sometimes.

↳Saturday, October 3rd 2020

This next point kinda ties in with the last one but she is very confident and is able to take a joke which is something that - I personally believe - is crucial to have in a significant other.

I am aware of the fact that I am not always the nicest, most optimistic person to be around; but she has thick skin and knows that whenever I call her a ‘dumbass’, I either mean it as a joke or as a term of endearment.

Also, anyone would find it quite annoying if their special someone always was seeking attention, validation and compliments. I mean, every once and while it is completely fine but if your whole self-esteem is based off of whatever people think of you and you need constant reassurance in every single thing you do - I personally - would find that a bit annoying. As I mentioned before, I am your lover, not your babysitter.

So, that’s another reason I love like her; and as Abraham Lincoln once said, ‘what’s sexier than confidence?”

Source: https//:pornhub.com

↳Sunday, October 4th 2020

She is so hot.

Now, please, don’t get wrong; I hate the objectification of women and physical appearance isn’t everything as they all deserve to be treated equally and with respect.

But I am looking respectfully 👀

Actually, perhaps ‘hot’ wasn’t the best choice of words as there are so many different phrases/words in the English language that would be more fitting to describe not only (Y/N)’s physical appearance but how she acts. Words such as: gorgeous, classy, alluring, angelic, elegant, divine, stunning, captivating, radiant, tempting, adorable, ravishing and most accurately, beautiful.

She’s modest about it too. Understandably, she prefers compliments on her character rather than her look because she says, ‘People that compliment me on shallow things like my appearance are either toxic, wanna get with me or they are just naïve.’

However, I do believe that she dislikes those sorts of compliments because she simply doesn’t need them - she knows she is beautiful and so does everyone around her, I mean, it’s kinda hard to ignore.

Like seriously? Who could miss those enchanting (e/c) eyes of hers? Or her shapely figure that would make any person ‘act up’? And have I yet to mention her pristine lips that lift to make that charming smile of hers?

Okay, well, you see the point. (L/N) = very sexy, inside and out. I am done complimenting her for today. I need to go lie down.

↳Monday, 5th October 2020

The last day of the week. Well, according to my professor, anyway.

This is the part where I tell you the 5th and final thing that I love like about (Y/N). And honestly, I can’t decide between the following; so I’ll just roll a D20 and let that choose for me:

1. She is very funny

2. She is an amazing cook

3. Her singing voice gives me goose-bumps

4. She is so gentle towards animals, it’s precious

5. She is so talented

6. She is very supportive of everything I do

7. She makes an effort in our relationship and to understand the things that I enjoy eg. volleyball, paleontology

8. She’s is a good communicator

9. She’s loyal

10. She doesn’t get feisty or petty during arguments, we keep it classy

11. Her passion for the things and the people she loves is so attractive

12. She is one of the most diligent, hard-working people I’ve ever met

13. She just generally has this sort of charm about her, that’s why she gets on so well with people

14. She’s honest

15. I would trust her with my life

16. I know that she’d be there for me when I need her because she always has been

17. Explain how there is no one real reason I love her, it’s just that everything she does comes together and forms..her! She’s so special and unique, there is no way I’d be able to pin it down to one key feature.

18. She’s human

19. I envy her

20. Roll again.

I rolled a 20.

Then I got a 17.

I know I probably seem like a love-sick sucker for writing all of this about my girlfriend but I can assure that even if she was just my friend, I’d still write this journal about her because she is the most interesting and extortionary person I’ve ever met. I can also assure you that if you ever meet her yourself, you’d be writing novels about her for a minute of her time.

To me, she’s perfection. And I’d rather die than say that aloud so that it partly the reason I am writing this for her. It is easier for me to express what I feel through this journal than it ever would be to say this stuff out loud, especially to her.

I like love her.

good job, Tsukishima! A very sweet journal and your vocabulary is quite impressive. I'm sure your girlfriend will adore this haha. What I will say though is that perhaps you could try use less contractions and real words - by this I mean that 'kinda' and 'sorta' are not real words in the english laguage so you should try and avoid those. Another than that, superb work!

#no it is not ooc #he is a simp #he won't admit it tho #obvs #tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu #hq tsukishima

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anthropos-metronff · 3 years ago

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So Tumblr is under the misapprehension that I’m one of the top Kuja blogs, so let’s actually make a serious post on the subject.

I know everyone has a different relationship to the ultimanias - some people regard them as holy writ, others just think they're apochrypha. Personally I like to treat them as the newspaper and straw for the nesting boxes of my headcanons - useful as inspiration and interesting, but only that.

Anyway, so today I’m calling bullshit on a specific part of the FFIX ultimania. The notion that Kuja had an inherent design flaw which gave him an especially powerful will.

Okay. So, assuming Garland noticed and rectified that flaw, as the ultimania assures us he did, then Zidane should have a propensity to conformity, meekness, subsmissiveness and hahaha yeah good joke.

To me the 'especially powerful will' thing is like the ultimania interviewed Garland and is just reciting his line.

“I created a fully-formed person, and would you believe it? He didn't want to obey me completely and absolutely. Anyway, that was no good, so I created a baby that I could brainwash and indoctrinate from birth to serve as my tool of ethnic cleansing.”

I'm really interested in where Garland is located in fandom. It’s hard to judge on that score though because the fic sample size is tiny and people don’t routinely discuss a twenty year old game in online spaces, but do I get a feeling there’s sometimes a kind of moral tonal indifference to Garland. (I’m talking on the wider internet here, not on just Tumblr or in fics)

If you're thinking this is leading into being a complete apologia for Kuja, then it's not - his actions are wrong - but the notion that they're opaque, motivationally-speaking, is ludricuous. Who the hell wouldn't want to be free of Garland - a creator who is all-powerful and will never die and who has a permanent grievance that you can’t be sufficiently controlled, which he won’t shirk? And will dispense with you once your function is fulfilled?

Garland's goals are essentially identical to Sephiroth's. Murder the planet as it exists and re-establish a "shining future" in its place.

Nice Guy Grandad.

So I’d like to move away from, insofar as it exists, tonal indiference to Garland. The tacit though not explicit acceptance I do sometimes see that yeah, Garland probably had a point on Kuja. (I mean, Kuja is very prickly and emotionally brittle - which obviously doesn’t have anything at all to do with him being created by a loveless, mass-murdering control freak.)

I mean - I’ve seen someone suggest-but-not-really-because-I-don’t-wanna-get-into-this-debate that Hojo kind of had a point on Vincent. But implying that Hojo kinda had a point on Sephiroth - that Sephiroth was just a bad seed? I mean I do recall some people believing that in pre-Compilation days, but that’s certainly not even close to being the dominant view in the FF7 fandom today. It’s not even really just A View. Quite the opposite in fact.

I feel like I’d be negligent if I didn’t say I really feel like the ultimania is working, probably subconsciously, off Kuja being so heavily queer-coded. 'Flawed from birth’ ‘Too strongly-willed’. ‘Why don’t you just pipe down?’ Uh huh. Heard those before. (Kuja’s character arc is itself problematic in this context, but that’s a post for another day)

So let’s all give a big, warm Fuck No to the ultimania with its ‘flawed from birth’.

No-one’s worthless.

One of the core themes of FFIX is self-determination/autonomy, be it moral or existential. Or as (probably) Mikoto says in one of the final scenes of the game, while Kuja's actions were wrong, the defiance of Garland gave the Genomes the inspiration that you can live independently and autonomously.

Apparently the FFIX ultimania needs to be told this from its own game, but Kuja’s problem is not that he’s too strongly-willed ffs. His problem is everything he does after embracing being ‘too strongly-willed’.

Kuja perpetuates the same abusive disregard for self-determination and dignity he himself suffered onto the Black Mages in turn, in pursuit of being free of Garland. That is one of his crimes, and it is also his tragedy.

Anyway I’m signing off now because someone is making Shinra mansion-style ghost noises somewhere outside my window. If you made it this far, then thank you.

#kuja #zidane tribal #ff9 #final fantasy ix #ffix #final fantasy 9

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pearldouglas · 4 years ago

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forever stuck in our youth- ch 1

summary: A CUTE LIL FIC ABOUT A SUMMER CAMP CLOSING AND A WEEKEND GETAWAY, A SLOW BURN FIC

pairing: platonic obx cast x y/n, eventual drew starkey x reader

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so i didn’t want to write about (redacted) being rudy’s gf since i know like 3/4′s of the fandom is not a fan of her so i made up an oc and yes.... she’s me. i also gave jd a gf too, just go with it bc he deserves just as much love. also i have no idea if madison used to work at a summer camp, pls don’t question it

When Madison walks into the hair and makeup department of set one morning, you can immediately tell she’s upset.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask as she sits down in her usual chair. She lets out a long sigh and you frown as you take her hair out of the top knot sitting on top of her head, wondering what’s got her in such a bad mood.

“I just found out the summer camp I used to work at is closing down,” she rests her cheek on her palm and pouts. “I know it’s silly to be upset about it but I really loved it there, it was a big part of my life. Kinda felt like a place I grew up is just getting torn down.”

“It’s not silly,” you reassure her quickly, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze in attempt to comfort her. “I loved summer camp, I can see why you’re so upset.”

“I just wish I could at least go say goodbye to it,” Madison sighs again before looking down at her hands. You’re quiet for a few seconds as you begin to think, the silence filling the trailer uncomfortably.

“Well then, why don’t you?” you ask. She looks up immediately at your reflection in the mirror with her nose scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“Filming for this season is almost over, you’ve got a lot of time on your hands. Why don’t you go spend a weekend or something? I’d even go with you! It could be tons of fun!” you smile brightly at her. Madison turns around to look at your face, her eyes bright and full of hope.

“Really? You’d do that?” she asks, her voice about to break. You nod rapidly.

“What’s going on in here?” Madelyn asks as she walks into the trailer, you assume Chase isn’t far behind her.

“Y/N and I are gonna take a trip to the old summer camp I used to work with, you should come!” Madison says, her voice now happy and full of life.

“Is this just a girls trip? Because if so, you know I will be crashing,” Rudy’s voice startles you, you turn around and see him sitting in the back of the trailer and you wonder how long he had been sitting there or how you didn’t notice him before.

“Why don’t we all go?” Madison suggests. “Cline, Chase, JD, Y/N, Mariah, Rudy you could even bring Lily if you wanted.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Madelyn says as she jumps up and down and claps her hands excitedly.

Rudy smiled at the mention of his girlfriend. “JD will want to bring Tayla too,” he points out.

“That’s totally fine.”

“Great, I’ll be the only single one there,” you let out a laugh, Madison hits you in the stomach lightly with the back of her hand.

“Shut up, it will still be fun,” she assures you and you nod along with her words.

“I know, I can’t wait!”

About a week goes by when suddenly you find yourself packing all your summer essentials in one suitcase and sleeping soundly in a car as you and all your loud friends make your way to what Madison had described as ‘a little piece of my childhood.’ You were excited, really, but watching all the cute couples around you made your heart sink. Sure, you were all happy for them, but you wanted someone to experience a summer romance with you too.

“So I talked to the guy who owns the camp,” Madison explains as she turns around in the front seat to look back at the rest of you. “He said that he left a lot of the old equipment there and that we’re free to use any of it since it’s probably just gonna be donated at the end of the summer anyway.”

“What kind of equipment are we talking about?” Rudy calls from the very back seat.

“Fishing poles, bunk beds, oh and did I mention jet skis?” Madison smiles which causes the whole car to erupt in loud cheers.

“What did you wanna do first, baby?” Mariah asks as she looks over at her girlfriend. Madison reaches over and grabs her hand.

“I think we should settle in first, unpack and get everything ready, then we can go for a good old fashioned swim in the lake. After it gets dark out maybe we could have a bonfire and make s’mores or something?”

“That sounds amazing,” Mariah smiles.

The ride continues on, the sound of all your friends conversations are drowned out by your headphones. Eventually you feel a soft shake of your shoulder and open your eyes only to realize you had fallen asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks growing an intense shade of red as you took off your headphones.

“No big deal,” JD lifts his shoulders into a shrug. “I just wanted to wake you up since we’re here.” You look out the window and see a bright red cabin sitting under the sun.

You smile and immediately jump out of the car, shielding your eyes from the brightness as you take in your surroundings. It looks just like a cliche summer camp with an arch over the cabin door that says the camp name. You get a feeling you’re on the set of a bad 80′s horror movie.

“So where are we staying?” Chase asks as he pulls suitcases out from the back of the van. You can’t tell if hes being sarcastic or not, considering the bright red double story cabin standing proudly in front of you.

“This is where the counselors would stay,” Madison explains as she gestures to the large building. “And the campers would stay a little farther down. The counselors have a bit more privacy and it’s nicer but technically speaking if you wanna be alone you can stay in the campers cabin.”

“Can we go look at the campers cabins?” you perk up. Madison turns to look at you with her nose scrunched slightly in confusion “As much as I love all of you guys, I don’t really wanna be rooming with only couples and hearing what you guys get up to in the middle of the night.” this causes Rudy to laugh.

“No, you definitely do not,” he agrees as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend whose face you notice is getting significantly pinker. JD lets out a gag.

“Yeah, I can show you the way to those cabins. Are you sure you want to be all alone though? It can get a little scary at night,” Madison asks you, her voice suddenly full of concern. You purse your lips together and nod your head.

“Yeah, I mean how bad can it really be?”

Bad, the answer to that question was.

It turns out unpacking and settling in took much longer than expected and you were all exhausted by the end of it, plus the sun had already gone down so there was no point in trying to go swimming and you were all too tired to start a fire. So you all just decided to call it a night.

And being alone in the campers cabin was definitely not a good idea.

First off, it was freezing at night so you were left to wrap yourself up tightly in your blankets. Secondly, it was so loud. The animals outside decided it would be a good idea to scream outside your window so you were left listening to owls and wolves howl the entire night. However you would have much rather preferred those noises to the ones you were sure were coming from Rudy and Lily’s room.

And lastly, no one talks about how scary it is to be alone at night.

You thought you hadn’t been scared of being alone at night since you were a little kid. Turns out old habits really die hard. You were sure someone was going to burst through the front door and put a bag over your head and drag you off into the night with you kicking in screaming. So naturally this resulted in you having horrible nightmares and a bad nights sleep. But you refused to tell that to your friends when you met up for breakfast in the morning.

“Hey, how did everyone sleep?” Madison greets, holding her cup of coffee with both hands and close to her face in attempts to warm herself up.

“Great!” Rudy announces, his mouth full of his breakfast.

“From the sounds and looks of it, you didn’t get much sleep did you?” you tease him, looking over at Lily who has tired eyes and is in the middle of a yawn. Rudy shrugs.

“What about you, y/n? How was your experience alone out in the campers cabin?” JD perks up, desperate to change the subject.

“From the sounds of it, I think I slept better than all of you guys combined,” you joked even though it was a complete lie. Everyone in the group laughs.

“Are we ready to go swimming?” Chase asks, throwing his napkin down on his plate.

“Aren’t we supposed to wait 30 minutes until after eating to go swimming?” Mariah asks.

“Isn’t that bullshit?” Madelyn rebuttals.

“LAST ONE IN THE WATER IS A ROTTEN EGG!” Rudy calls as he stands up and runs out of the room, JD running quickly after them which causes Tayla and Lily to yell for them.

“None of us are wearing our bathing suits!”

Eventually, everyone did make it down to the water. Rudy ended up beating JD in their mini race which resulted in JD pushing him off the dock which made everyone laugh, even Lily. Everyone else jumped in the water after that and were swimming around for a while before someone spoke up.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Lily asked.

“No, why?” Madison asked. Lily points to the front of the camp where another car is pulling up. Turns out, this is a campy horror movie which will result in your death.

“Is that-” Chase starts. “No way, he said he couldn’t make it this weekend.”

“Who? What? What are you guys talking about?” you ask as you examine everyones faces and notice it was someone they all recognized. Then, out of the car, wearing swim trunks and a button up, steps out one of your close friends.

“I finished up filming early, now the fun has arrived!” Drew yells, causing you to smile.

Looks like you won’t be the only single one on this trip after all.

-----------------

A/N: AYYYY FIRST CHAPTER IS UP!!!! this fic is based off a cute dream i hate that i told tayla @taylathornton about and she persuaded me to write a fic about it so.... here it is. also i hate the ending to this but whatever.

#outer banks #outerbanks #obx #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x you #obx cast

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kendrixtermina · 3 years ago

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Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613 - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer.

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

#enneagram #enneagram 6 #ennea 6 #6w5 #6w7

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

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I think I just had a massive paradigm shift.

So, we all kind of understand that humans have this constant need for validation. We all like to pretend we don’t, to brush this need beneath the rug and carry on with our bullshit like each of us aren’t screaming to be acknowledged.

To be seen.

To be known.

Guys, I think this is part of what love is. To be loved is to be known. It’s to be acknowledged at the most intimate level and validated at our core. And sometimes, I think that I am so caught up in my need to be seen, or more likely, the fact that my deepest fear is that this need will not be met - rejection, isolation, and preemptive retaliation - that I close myself off from the ability to see others.

Let me try to give you an example. Trigger warning for mentions of guns (hunting rifles), deer hunting, mental health, and suicide.

Yes, this is another Dead Dad post.

Today, I was going through some backlogged emails. With all of my life bullshit, I had let the inbox get a little cluttered, and it was time to clean house.

I stumbled across an email from Dad. He’d sent it two weeks before he died. The subject was, “My Life, My Lot.”

Listen, if you think I am melodramatic... lol, the genetics are strong here, okay?

Okay.

I opened it, and guys, my Dad had documented his entire life story. I won’t go into details, but there were so many things written there that I didn’t know about him. I’ll be honest, I had a little breakdown and couldn’t finish reading it. Not today. Today is his birthday, actually, and the universe just dropped this very painful, very beautiful gift in my lap.

It brought me back to a phone conversation that we’d had before he died. He’d been bitching about his group therapy class, about how the projects were silly and the questions were shallow. “Fuck a therapist,” I remember him saying very vehemently. He did mention to me, though, that his therapist had suggested writing about his struggles. He was reluctant, naturally. Dad was always very reluctant about ideas that weren’t his own.

I was deep in my Better Love shit by this point, and he only brought it up because he knew I was “a writer.” I jumped on this. “It might be good for you,” I told him. “It might help you. Sure as fuck helps me.”

The next time we spoke, the next day, he was actually pretty excited, a tone that I had long since only associated with opiates. I was skeptical - what are they medicating him with now? I wondered. I only half listened as he began to tell me about his group session.

Guys, he had written some of his story, and he’d read it aloud in group.

I perked up at this. “What did they say?”

Apparently they loved it. I was proud of him. I asked him to read it to me, and he started to.

Guys, it was incredible. My Dad could really turn a phrase, and I’d never known this about him. His use of imagery and metaphor really shocked me. I was impressed and I told him so. “That makes me feel really good, to hear you say that,” he said.

Looking back, that’s the most validation I ever received from my Dad. The fact that he considered me a writer, and that my opinion mattered to him. Fuck, that sounds so small, but it’s not.

In that moment, he saw me.

And more telling still, it was probably the last time he ever received any from me. His allotted phone call time was coming to a close, and I encouraged him to continue writing.

“You think I should?”

I really do, Dad. I want to read it.

He sent me that email, and I fucking missed it, guys. That’s not even the point of this post, though. Sometimes, life catches you by the throat and you just miss things.

The point is in the knowing.

There was one other time in the last year of Dad’s life that I saw him light up like that. I knew it was significant then, and its one of my most precious memories now.

Dad was a deer hunter. In the last five or so years of his life, he completely gave up on that (depression is a bitch that way), but since I finished school and moved back home, hunting was a childhood hobby that I picked back up with a lot of enthusiasm. I hunted from his place, because who buys a lease when Dad lives 30 minutes away? Duh.

Last fall, there was so much more urgency to opening weekend than buck fever. I knew, deep down, that this was the last season we’d have together. Things had been bad for a long time, but they were nearing unsustainable.

I knew that.

One evening, before I left, he was sitting in his chair. He did a lot of that, just sitting and staring into space. I glanced at the gun cabinet, and for some reason, I thought to ask, “Dad, tell me about your guns.”

I had to pull him to his feet, but guys, the way he lit up. He took each one out of the safe and started telling me when he bought it, the little tricks about which scope shoots kinda high and which one kicks like a bitch. How old he was, who he bought it from, memorable hunting experiences. Dad was an award winning taxidermist, so getting all of the old stories again, complete with props, was another gift.

I just watched him, guys. He was so present. Alive in a way I hadn’t seen him in years. He smelled like booze, but he was talking and smiling. Mom watched from the doorway, and I remember thinking very clearly to myself, Seal this moment in your mind. Pay attention. Dwell on it. Cherish it. It’s important.

That night, I validated my dad. I asked to know him, and I saw him.

Even if I didn’t recognize it then, that was an act of love to the deepest degree. Love in the only way a dying man could accept, and love that the only way a jaded daughter knew to give.

If I can take away a single life lesson from my father’s suicide, I hope it’s this:

I hope it’s that I learn to see people.

Not just to reciprocate good feelings when good feelings are received. That’s nice, but that’s not love.

Not just to go about my life with my head down, so wrapped in my own bullshit that I forget that other people even exist. Object permanence is a concept that even adult Jay struggles with, much to her detriment.

Not to be so stuck on my own fears that I miss that everyone around me shares them. True connection requires that first, we are opened. And to be open is to be vulnerable.

Not just to seek my own validation, but to also validate you.

I don't know, guys, I’m tired and emotional and just rambling now.

But this feels important, okay?

#tw: suicide #about jay #mental health stuff #jay rambles about love and other things she doesn't really understand #if you read all of this you are a saint or probably just as crazy as i am #will probably delete later #tw: guns #but not related to the suicide it's not like that #story time with jay

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