#also apologies I normally leave these posts alone because obviously it’s mostly jokes but I’m in a mildly pedantic mood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkbyajm · 4 years ago

Text

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

< previous next >

Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way.

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?”

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late.

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse husband fic

312 notes · View notes

simonsrosebud · 4 years ago

Text

what if kevin & dalton had been set up instead of meeting on their own?

(pls accept this as apology for not posting any kalton for MONTHS)

kevin doesn’t have a date to the banquet.

normally, it’s fine. he’s taken allison or renee to the last few, as friends. but this year, renee has something going on with gwen, their freshman dealer who is somehow only a year younger than himself. and allison got scooped up by ricky, the other freshman dealer.

“what happened to us being dates? i thought it was unspoken?”

allison shrugs and pushes her hair behind her shoulder. she has her arms crossed as she leans against the doorframe to kevin’s bedroom. “sure, but ricky has a crush on me and it’s fun playing around with it.”

kevin sends her a look. “ew, don’t look at me like that. as if, he’s like a baby to me.” kevin opens his mouth, but gets cut off. “you could get a date easily, it’s fine, we’ll help.”

and she’s right. later that afternoon she shoots a text to the team groupchat.

allison: kevin needs a date, any and all genders welcome. must be hot, good at socializing, and able to withstand his complete lack of care for them esp once he starts talking exy.

allison: i expect a nominee from each of you. good luck soldiers.

and kevin’s going to kill that girl.

the freshmen don’t answer, of course. all of their friends are freshmen, and they’re also just too scared to respond to the foxes sometimes.

aaron responds first, suggesting he just take one of the vixens. neil chimes in by saying that marissa girl is fucking social alright.

kevin doesn’t get why allison can’t just set him up with one of her friends. she has a strict rule against any of the foxes dating her non-exy friends, but it’s just an banquet.

matt comes in last, but instead of the groupchat it’s just to kevin.

matt: i have a friend named dalton. he’s in his masters to become a professor but he’s chill. he’s nice and fun too, the best guy i know

kevin knows he shouldn’t be shallow, but...

kevin: picture?

matt responds almost instantly. a picture of his friend sitting across from him at starbucks on his laptop. he looks caught off guard, like matt took the picture without warning.

is he with him right now?

kevin: maybe.

he drops his head back and rubs his eyes.

an hour later, the door opens. neil comes in first. matt is on his heels, and someone else trails in behind him. kevin sits up.

neil looks at him. in french, he says, “i wasn’t a part of this.”

kevin stands, and responds back in french. “you let him in.” neil shrugs at that, and continues down to the bedroom.

matt nods at him with a smug smile. “do you still have your psych 101 workbook? i have to take it next semester and i don’t wanna buy it.”

kevin frowns. is he not going to introduce his friend? “uh, yeah.” he turns to his desk and rummages through the drawers to pull it out.

“oh, this is dalton, by the way. he’s a friend from sophomore year.”

there it is. kevin turns back, book in hand, and nods at dalton.

dalton smiles, calm and charming, and tilts his head a bit. “he’s lying. i was his TA.”

kevin gives a smile. it’s small and faint, and mostly fake. he can’t help it. he doesn’t care for small talk like this. how old does that make dalton?

also, how did matt befriend his TA? kevin’s never spoken a word to the majority of his own.

“can’t imagine having to deal with him in class,” he says, jokingly.

matt doesn’t defend it, just shrugs and moves on. “hey, did you find a date to the banquet yet?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

kevin’s gonna kill him. he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket so he can ball his fists. “not yet, no.”

he nods, nudges dalton. “kevin’s on the exy team, too. he’s the only one without a date to the winter banquet this year,” he says. “allison, remember allison? she’s on a manhunt to find someone she approves of for him.”

dalton considers it. “that sounds like allison.”

kevin refrains from frowning. “have you met her?”

dalton has, just one time when he and matt went to a football game this fall and made a pit stop to matt’s room. it’s also when he met neil, albeit very briefly. neil had too much going on to give him the time of day.

“once, a month or so ago.”

when matt and dalton get into the car, dalton turns halfway in his seat to fully face matt. “he doesn’t have a date?” matt shakes his head. “is he into guys at all?”

matt glances at him. “yeah, he’s bisexual.”

dalton raises his eyebrows. “um, hello?! why didn’t you set him up with me?!”

matt frowns and shoots his friend a look. “why do you think we just went over?! i took psychology freshman year!”

dalton’s gonna kill him. ��but you didn’t say anything about me to him.” matt rolls his eyes and waves him off, and dalton sits back in his seat.

“i know kevin, i know what i’m doing.”

he crosses his arms. “you’re the worst wingman i’ve ever met.”

but low and behold, kevin texts matt a few hours after his visit.

kevin: how do u know dalton would want to be my date to the banquet?

matt: bc he literally told me so

kevin: fine, ask him if he wants to go and i’ll take him.

when dalton climbs on the bus behind matt, it takes him only a moment to spot kevin and make his way over.

the banquet is five hours away, so the foxes and their dates are changing into their formalwear once they arrive.

dalton has joggers on, and a long sleeve henley that’s a size too big. his collarbone hangs out as the collar hangs low. he wears a soft smile, and pushes a hand back through his hair.

he looks hot.

dalton looks even more hot dressed up in his suit. he keeps at kevin’s side at first, and talks to both matt and dan from time to time. allison even pops up once to inquire about him, since he wasn’t one of her picks.

dalton and matt seem to joke around like they’re best friends. but he doesn’t ever remember matt mentioning him.

then again, if kevin had friends outside of exy, he may not introduce them to the foxes, either.

he finds his way back to kevin’s side at their table, where he’s talking to a trojan player. after a while, kevin turns to him. “you don’t have to stick by my side, if you don’t want.” he almost feels bad.

dalton shrugs and smiles. “what if i want to stick by your side?” the way that kevin reacts shows that he wasn’t expecting that, and dalton’s smile turns shy. “um, i don’t mind, really. i’d feel bad leaving you alone. i’m your date.” he takes a sip of his drink.

“okay.” it barely leaves kevin’s lips, but it’s enough to make dalton happy.

“you can even talk exy to me, if you want. i can pretend i know how it works.”

kevin’s heart seizes. “you don’t know exy?”

dalton grins. “i’ve never even seen a game.” he leans closer. “teach me?”

so he does. for the next half hour, they sit and kevin blabbers on, and dalton listens and asks questions. and then they sidetrack somehow to talking about marvel movies and what they suspect will happen in the next spiderman movie.

dalton swears to die on the grave that peter parker is a bisexual icon.

“you can take that title, instead, though.” his grin is cheeky. kevin lightly kicks his ankle and rolls his eyes, but he’s heavily amused.

“what about you? what are you?”

“gay,” he shrugs. “not much to it.”

“did you… when you told people, how did they react?”

dalton’s head tilts just a bit, and his smile starts to fade. “some people don’t like it, but it was fine for the most part.” and after a moment. “why, are you okay?”

kevin nods.

dalton doesn’t believe it. and he supposes he doesn’t know kevin enough to say that, but there’s something about the way kevin doesn’t verbally respond to it that sits weird in his head.

he props his chin in his hand. “i told my roommates i was gay the first week of freshman year. my roommate knew, but we had two suitemates, and one of them kinda stopped talking to me after that if he could help it.” he flicks his eyes up to meet kevin’s. “my uncle asks me at every family function if i’ve got a girl yet. he’s known for seven years, now,” he says. “and thanksgiving is now hosted at my house because my grandmother told my mother that i was unwelcome in hers.”

harsh.

“i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say, really. he barely has family as it is, but he can’t imagine losing them now because of something so small.

but dalton just shrugs a shoulder. “it’s okay. think about it this way, if i was still in the closet i wouldn’t be your date right now.” he cracks a smile. always smiling.

that’s when kevin notices just how close their faces are. and how he keeps glancing at dalton’s mouth. he sits back. not here.

dalton goes to the bathroom, and matt takes his seat. “how’s it going with dalton?”

kevin frowns. “fine, why? did he say something?”

matt’s face is indescribable. “no, but i see you guys getting all close and stuff. just flirt with him, dude! he obviously likes you.”

yeah right. “i-i don’t think so. he’s just here because i didn’t have a date.”

matt drops his head for a second. “kevin, after you first met him he scolded me for not setting you two up. he doesn’t watch exy, and he’s not here for the famous kevin day, just give him a chance.” kevin looks to the side, where dalton’s on his way back talking with dan at his side. they’re getting closer, so he talks fast and quiet. he stands. “don’t fuck this up, he’s hot and nice,” he whispers, and grins when dan slides into his side.

“we wanna dance. boys?” she looks expectantly at both kevin and matt. matt doesn’t have a choice, but he’d never say no anyway.

dan pulls kevin up and shoves him lightly into dalton, who catches a hand on his waist. kevin wants to squirm out of it, but not because he doesn’t like dalton, or dalton’s touch. just because the idea of liking dalton scares him a bit.

but dalton lets go when he finds his balance.

“i don’t- i can’t dance.”

“yeah right, i’ve seen you at eden’s before.”

when he was belligerently drunk.

“you don’t have to.” dalton’s voice is soft behind him.

matt slides his gaze to kevin. don’t fuck this up.

he turns. how has his life come to this? “no. i will, if you want to.”

dalton grins, lopsided and happy. “yeah?”

he hopes he doesn’t regret it. “yeah.”

so dalton takes him by the hand and leads him after matt and dan. the majority of the foxes are in the midst of the crowd as well, but they don’t pay them any mind. there’s enough people that kevin can pretend he’s at eden’s.

kevin is a terrible dancer. dalton notices it right away and laughs. when kevin gives him a look he says, “follow my lead. just sway a little. nod your head to the music,” kevin looks up at him while he dances, but catches dalton’s eyes instead.

he looks away and falls out of rhythm. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s okay.” dalton gently takes kevin’s hands and puts them on his waist. it feels illegal. his hands feel like dead weights, he doesn’t know what to do.

is he blacking out right now?

but then dalton’s moving his hips and dancing, and laughing. he’s having fun and kevin wants to have fun too.

he moves his hands from dalton’s waist to around his neck, and dalton hesitates with his hands near kevin’s hips until kevin nods.

dalton’s fingers dip into his hips. his one finger taps along the beat of whatever song is playing, while he lightly sings along and bounces back and forth.

it’s dark on this side of the court with the exception of some colored lights darting around. the designated dancing spot.

kenna is kissing jack in the crowd.

kevin looks back to dalton, singing with a smile plastered on his face.

no one would notice.

kevin’s fingers twitch against dalton’s neck. but someone could.

he’s already out, but that doesn’t mean he’s kissed a boy in public yet.

he drops his arms. “i need some air.”

dalton let’s go, “are you okay?” but he just nods and takes off, off of the court and down the hall to the locker rooms. the foxes have their things in the away men’s locker room.

kevin sinks down on the bench. he plays with the bracelet around his wrist, courtesy of betsy in case he needs something to fidget with. opposed to panicking, that is.

that woman is never wrong.

kevin likes dalton, that’s not in question nor is it really the problem. the problem is that he doesn’t know what his problem is. if it’s what people will say when they see that he truly is into men.

being told something versus seeing proof that it’s real are two different things. he’s learned that, dealt with it more than once. the last time it was the proof of the raven’s bullying and abuse. being told that kevin and riko’s relationship isn’t what the fans fantasize it is versus then seeing proof that it isn’t anything that they thought, for example.

kevin had to deal with backlash like that for months after the raven’s investigation post championship game. him being bi isn’t the same, of course, but he doesn’t know how to predict the behaviors of his fans. he doesn’t know what they’ll support or not.

but he likes dalton.

“hey.”

one of the freshmen, eva, stands in the doorway. “stop running

you don’t have to be scared of people seeing you dance, you know.”

kevin frowns. “i don’t care about dancing.”

“yeah, but you care about dancing with your date.” they cross their arms and lean against the doorframe. “no one cares. half this team is a little gay, anyway.”

once they’ve changed for the night in the hotel room, dalton hesitates from where he stands by the bed. “are you okay? you seemed a little jittery all night, i just... i wanna make sure everything’s fine, i guess.”

kevin looks up, but doesn’t answer.

stop being so afraid of everything.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

he sighs.

dalton’s standing there, arms crossed, concerned. kevin swallows his fears as he makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of dalton, and slides a hand behind his neck to kiss him.

dalton hums, surprised. after a moment he brings a hand to kevin’s chest, and there’s a second where kevin thinks hes going to be pushed away. instead his fingers dig into his hoodie and he pulls kevin closer.

dalton’s smiling as kevin pulls away. “about time,” he mumbles, and kisses him again.

the back of dalton’s knees hit the bed by accident, but he drops down to sit and gently pulls kevin by the strings of his hoodie.

kevin isn’t new to sex, so to speak. he’s not the most experienced, but he’s had his fun. it’s the only reason he’s confident enough to scoot dalton further back and kiss him into the mattress.

dalton wraps an ankle around the back of kevin’s knee. he curls his fingers into his hair and leans his head back when kevin kisses down his neck.

they wake up to kevin’s phone blaring. matt’s calling.

kevin only acknowledges the fact that he has his arm around dalton for a second before he checks the time.

they’re late.

wymack’s gonna kill him.

kevin sits up and shakes dalton as he answers his phone. “hey you guys are awake right? coach is pulling the bus around then we’re loading up.”

kevin’s out of the bed and throwing his shirt on, tossing dalton’s hoodie to him. “yeah, we’re coming.” dalton’s eyes go wide and that kicks him into gear as he realizes the situation.

they look a mess as they run around. they’ve really only got one pair of clothes and their suits to frantically shove into their bags. kevin pulls his sneakers on without socks and dalton’s got his on with the laces all undone as they jog down the hall.

at least they brushed their teeth.

dalton drops down to tie his shoes in the elevator, and when he stands kevin takes the liberty of carding his fingers through his hair.

he shrugs. “bed head.”

dalton can’t help but smile. “might wanna pull this up a little,” he mumbles, and that’s when kevin realizes that he’d accidentally put on dalton’s long sleeve henley. the shirt he’d been wearing last night before it got dropped to the floor.

dalton pushes the shirt up so it’s not hanging lower on kevin’s collarbone. he’s got a nice hickey that needs hiding.

“they’re never going to let this go,” kevin says.

dalton leans back against the elevator wall. “i’ve got some juice on matt if you ever need.”

kevin smiles, just a little. despite him worrying all during the banquet, last night was so good. he doesn’t want it to end as soon as they step off of the bus. he doesn’t want dalton to be a one night stand, he doesn’t think.

he takes a step forward and kisses dalton against the wall once more. he pulls away when the elevator dings.

matt smiles to himself as he watches them come around the corner. he tries to tame it, at least.

kevin and dalton are the last on the bus. kevin’s spot in the back is open, so they go back there. dalton toes off his shoes as soon as he sits down.

kevin is on the aisle side. his chest skips when dalton’s hand lands gently on his thigh. he doesn’t hate it.

it’s dinner time when they get back to a rainy palmetto. dalton had fallen asleep on kevin’s shoulder a half hour ago, and jolts awake when matt whoops and shouts to get out of his way so he can run off the bus for the bathroom.

“sorry,” dalton says quietly, scratching his head and yawning into the back of his hand.

“i didn’t mind.” kevin stretches his legs and pulls his shoes on.

dalton’s car is in the gated stadium parking lot. kevin walks him to it, head ducked because all he’s got on is dalton’s henley. no one anticipated rain.

dalton turns after unlocking his car, and sticks a ripped off folded note into kevin’s palm. kevin puts it right into his pocket for safe keeping. “so are you gonna call me after this?” dalton’s hair is falling wet over his forehead.

he nods, mouths the word yeah but nothing comes out. and dalton can’t help himself, so he takes a step forward and kisses kevin one last time, gentle as he hesitates with his fingers hovering over his cheek.

kevin’s got nothing to lose at this point, so he curls his hand alone dalton’s neck and steps closer.

he only pulls away because the team is most likely watching, and someone whistles. “i’ll call you,” he nods. he shoves his hands into his pockets and ignores the rain as he watches dalton drive out of the parking lot.

he turns towards the maserati and sees andrew shakes his head. kevin looks down at himself. he’s halfway to soaked. not ideal for such an expensive car. which leaves one option.

kevin slides into the front seat of his father’s car.

wymack can’t wipe the smug look from his face. “so-“

“no.”

85 notes · View notes

need-a-fugue · 4 years ago

Text

Trustworthy (Chapter Two)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Language... shitty language. And maybe sheer size? This one’s nearly 6,000 words... I may have gotten a little carried away. 😬

It began as a drunken joke, a flippant what if…

“If no one else is gonna do it,” you’d slurred out, voice barely above a whisper despite the cantina being utterly empty aside from the two of you, “we should take the motherfucker out ourselves.”

He’d laughed at the time, and promptly cut you off before insisting on walking you home. He helped you along the uneven streets of Leticia, held back your hair as you blew chunks into a dark alley, even slept on your couch that night just to make sure you didn’t die in your sleep. That’s what he told you, anyway. But you suspected that Santiago stuck around that night because he just couldn’t get your words out of his head.

You hadn’t been so drunk that you’d failed to notice the way he went eerily silent following your seemingly ludicrous suggestion. You hadn’t been so far gone that you’d missed the sudden glint to his eyes, nor the crooked smile that wrapped around his face as you said the words, “I want Lorea dead.”

That next morning, he brought it up casually, asking – before you even had the chance to brush your teeth – if you remembered what you’d said. When you told him you remembered every part, he simply told you to go on, nodding slowly along as you dove headfirst into a painfully impulsive proposal, your words still tinged with a lingering, drunken idealism. You spilled out the disparate thoughts you’d been harboring for months, if not longer – the ones that together formed little more than the ill-conceived beginnings of a damn stupid plan – only to discover that they were precisely in line with what he’d been contemplating as well.

By the end of the week, you were introducing him to your longtime informant, a woman who’d worked for Lorea in some capacity for years. A gorgeous woman, whom you’re almost entirely certain Santi fell into bed with later that same night. And after just a few months of nearly constant off-the-record investigating – both of you becoming utterly consumed by the thought of bringing Lorea down – that crazy, ridiculous, fucked-up joke you’d made had become a highly illegal, morally questionable, might-just-get-you-fired-and-thrown-into-a-federal-prison plot for ending the reign of one of the premier drug traffickers in South America.

You’d started it. There was no denying that. You’d started the whole damn thing.

For nearly three years, you fought the good fight with Santiago Garcia down in Colombia. He was one of just a handful of people there whom you trusted. He actually was one of just a handful of people there you even really knew.

If you ever got to chose an advisor to head up a mission, he’d be it. Any raid that fell within your purview, he’d help to organize. Intel was slow in coming, CIs dropping off, bosses telling you not to leave Leticia and to remember to stay in your lane? No problem. Garcia to the rescue.

He was able to operate largely independently – unlike poor, bound-by-the-rules-and-regulations-of-the-DEA you. Local cops and the surrounding military actually liked him and never balked at bringing him in, mostly because he was more than capable of playing along with their bullshit. Hell, he was so good at it, that for the first few months you knew him, he had you convinced that he either completely bought into the very obvious corruption surrounding that Amazonian paradise, or – if he really didn’t see it – he was dumber than a fucking box of rocks.

But Santiago Garcia never missed a damn thing. And while he might have seemed to have written off the actions of certain officials or the peculiarities you both encountered, he never ignored – nor forgot – the individuals he suspected of collusion. He was just smart enough to know when to act.

You, on the other hand, well, you never were very good at not calling people out. For all your life, if you saw something that seemed funky, you’d say something… immediately. If you ever suspected someone of lying, plotting, taking bribes, just plain being dirty, you’d raise an accusing finger high. Hell, that’s the main reason you got sent down to that southernmost point of the country, transferred away from what you saw as being the real goings-on, to simply help keep an eye on the drug runs taking place at the border.

Santiago taught you to quell your initial reactions of raising a stink when you believed something was amiss. He urged you to stop seeing the word in a never-ending list of black and white rules. He showed you how to keep from boiling over and calling people out, a thing that undoubtably kept you from getting yourself reassigned somewhere you’d be less of a nuisance… again.

He also fed you intel, shared specifics of his suspicions, and helped get you into military-run raids where DEA might otherwise have been shut out. And in the time in between – when you would normally just stalk around your small apartment all alone or perhaps stalk about the city… also all alone – he provided friendship, that not-so-tiny thing you’d been lacking ever since getting transferred from your post and away from the workmates and friends you’d had for years in Mexico.

He was fun and sharp-witted and outgoing, eager to make friends with just about anyone. He invited you out for drinks, dancing, into local card games. And though you often wondered why – did he feel sorry for you because the local police and military alike treated you like a damn leper? Was he trying to show others that you were alright, despite being a gringa DEA agent? Did he simply want to fuck you? – you’d be lying if you were to say that you didn’t feel damn lucky he’d stumbled into your life and forced his friendship upon you.

And how did you repay him? For all of the invites he’d extended, all the drinks purchased, all the intel he threw your way, all the military-run raids he somehow managed to get you in on? All of the trust and faith he invested in you?

You’d set him on a path to ruin.

000

The bar was much larger than you’d anticipated, the quick drive-by you did on your way to the motel earlier this afternoon making the freestanding structure – out in the middle of nowhere, like everything else in this Bumblefuck, USA town – appear small. Maybe it was because the massive parking lot dwarfed it. Maybe it was because you were only half awake, at best, and just didn’t notice the size of the place. Maybe it was because Santiago drove past it at 65 miles per hour, alerting you to it – that’s where we’ll meet up tonight – just as you flew by, allowing little more than a meager glimpse.

Regardless, you expected… less.

But the place is huge. There are two bars on either side of the sprawling building and tables flanking the wide-open center, which you could only imagine would at some point be flooded with drunken townies, eager to dance the night away.

When you first arrived – well over an hour ago – it had been just you and a handful of incredibly loud bros populating the place. You took off for the far bar, ordered yourself a drink, and slinked into a large table in a dark corner, eager to remain invisible until Santi arrived with his friends… his crack team. But – just as you’d come to expect from Garcia – he was nearly an hour late, and by the time he and his brothers-in-arms strolled in, you’d already been spotted by the douchebags at the bar and had to fight off the advances of two separate assholes, each of whom only approached you when making their way back from the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, bonita,” Santiago had proclaimed with a wide smile and a not-at-all-stifled laugh after you told him of your troubles. He turned to face the group of strangers at the bar, caught the glares of a few of them, and shouted over a simple dictate to, “Fuck off!”

And that had been the cap to your introduction to your new co-workers. They strode in, all smiles and laughter and blooming drunken glows, coming from what must have been a great fight night, undoubtably made all the better by being together once again, only to be forced to shake hands with you… a jetlagged stranger, washed out in the low light, obviously frazzled by having a guy fresh from the men’s room – who probably didn’t even bother to wash his hands – wrap an arm around your shoulder and tell you that the bathroom door locks… in case you wanted to check it out with him later.

They took your uncomfortable story in stride, exchanging pleasantries and apologizing again for their tardiness – well, Will apologized at least – before grabbing some drinks and then plopping down at the isolated table you’d chosen.

For a bit, the group of them just talk to one another, tying up loose ends to the conversations they’d been having before arriving. You catch snippets of nah, man, she’s gone… didn’t work out and do you have any idea how expensive kids’ soccer is? as their conversation flows around you, seemingly oblivious to your existence. For those first ten minutes or so – save Santiago’s paltry threat shouted across the bar and Benny’s rather flirtatious introduction – the whole team settles in around you and acts as though you aren’t even here at all.

The only exception during this time is the pilot, Frankie Morales – had Santi called him Fish? He keeps quiet as the others speak, cracking a smile at their comments every now and then, but mostly nursing his beer and awkwardly picking at the label in silence. Every so often, he steals a glance over at you, as if to say, yeah, I know you’re here. His eyes are warm and friendly despite the otherwise utterly unreadable expression planted on his face.

Maybe you’re simply intrigued by the fact that he’s the only one actively acknowledging your presence, or it could be that you’re just rather curious to figure out what his placid expression is hiding. Or perhaps you’re merely a fan of the subtle beauty that his sharp profile paints on the background of the dark, seedy bar. Whatever the reason, you find yourself not just staring but gazing at the man long after he looks away.

“So, shoot me straight,” Will says suddenly, nudging your shoulder and tearing into your thoughts as he turns to face you. Your eyes bounce wildly away from Frankie’s face, a heat creeping up your neck as you light on the patient smile of the man next to you. “That file… it’s your work, right?”

“Hey,” Santiago scoffs from across the table, leaning over to backhand his friend in the chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Will’s face cracks and a deep rumble of a laugh spills out of him as he bites out, “It’s good work. Too good to come from your sorry ass.”

Santi scoffs, his hand flying to his heart with a wounded quality. You simply shrug, small smirk perking your lips as you feel some of the initial tension of the gathering – and the strange concern that you might actually have somehow become invisible – finally start to lift. “He helped,” you say, tone coy.

“Oh, c’mon,” Santiago gripes, giving you a slightly irritated, definitely amused look. “Half that intel came from me. The PNC, Colombian military, they barely even acknowledge you’re there.”

You interrupt with a snort and a scathing, “Yeah… it’s really fucking annoying when people do that,” before choking down the rest of your beer.

If he understands the jibe about your current situation, he doesn’t let on, instead pushing his point that, “None of them would’ve given you jack shit.”

“And the one informant who actually got all this started?” you counter, accusing brow raised high. “Who’s informant was that?”

His face begins to blush, just a bit of redness seeping into his cheeks, as he reaches out to grab your empty bottle. “She was mine in the end,” he mutters, shoving back from the table and rising from his stool. “I’ll get the next round.”

“Yeah,” you call out after him. “You owe me more than just a beer for stealing my CI!”

“I’ll get you a shot too!” he throws over his shoulder, never looking back as he makes his way to the bar.

You turn back to the men surrounding you, each of them now eyeing you warily, and a part of you wants to go back to when they ignored your presence entirely. Tom – what did Santiago call him? Redfly? – is the first to break the awkward silence, ticking his chin in your direction. “So,” he starts before pulling a long breath in through his nose. “DEA.” He overenunciates each letter and states rather than questions your affiliation, despite there being an inquisitive – or is it accusing? – glint to his eye.

“Yeah,” you say with a lingering nod. “Yep. DEA.”

“They teach you about this kind of thing?” Will asks, his drawl deep and languid. You turn to look at him, the imposing man by your side, and feel your shoulders tighten all over again when you see that the stern expression he had worn when first shaking your hand has returned. But then something lightens, the corner of his mouth ticking up just a bit, his gaze softening as your eyes meet. You’re certain that he can sense the rise in tension, understands with just a glimpse of your face that you’re way out of your element here. Intimidated. Nervous. And while the softening of his countenance doesn’t wipe away your anxiety completely, you do at least appreciate the attempt.

Ben, the tall, younger man flanking your other side, must notice the unease building up inside you too. He leans in and bops you with his shoulder, a light, buoyant laugh bursting out of him. “Aw, hell,” he emits breathily. “Leave her alone. If Pope trusts her, she’s got to be good.”

“Not saying she’s not good,” Will intones, shooting you a quick wink that, oddly, really does manage to set you at ease. “Just wondering how much experience she has with ops like this.” His eyes start to sparkle as they lock onto yours once again. “So, sweetheart, you ever pull a recon mission deep in the jungle?”

You offer an evasive shrug and release a tightly held breath. “I got lost in a corn maze once. Had to find my way out on my own. Probably would’ve starved in there if I hadn’t had the presence of mind to bring a funnel cake in with me.”

On your left, Ben snorts out another laugh, and across the table you see Frankie try to maintain that straight, impassive face. But Will’s deadpan expression doesn’t shift in the least. “Well,” he says with a sigh, bringing his nearly empty beer bottle up to his lips. “I guess that is pretty damn close.”

“Ha, ha,” Tom mocks. He waits to go on until you look his way, and once you do he levels you with what can only be described as a fatherly stare – oddly disappointed and imploring, stern and warm all at the same time. “We’re all very glad to hear that you have a sense of humor.”

“Very glad,” Ben interjects with a wide grin.

“But,” he continues, “You’re not gonna go in there and be part of this unless you can convince us that you’re capable.”

Santiago’s voice cuts in then, sounding over the clink of beer bottles as he lays out the next round on the table. “She’s capable,” he states simply before sliding back into his seat next to Frankie. “We’ve been on…” he glances over at you, “how many raids now?”

“At least a dozen,” you answer.

He gives a firm nod and lets his eyes drift between the men at the table. “She’s done good every time. Stays outta the way, does what she’s told.”

Your brow wrinkles and tugs tightly together, deep frown taking over your face. “Jesus, Garcia. I’m not a fucking dog.” He gives a quick laugh, but says nothing, prompting you to defend yourself. “I’ve worked with military advisors for years. Most of my career has been spent working alongside foreign armies and police forces. I’m not just some kind of desk jockey, I promise you that.”

“This is different.” The words flow across the table, the deep rumble sliding just beneath the reverberating bass coming from the jukebox in the corner. You look up and lock onto Frankie’s eyes, note immediately the hesitancy building behind them. He raises his brows as he looks at you, almost into you, and says simply, “This isn’t a raid. This isn’t some amateur hour bullshit put on by the local cops. And you won’t have the military or CNP or the US government at your back if something goes wrong.”

You nod, wanting – for some inexplicable reason – to pull your gaze from him, but finding that you just can’t. “I know. I get that.”

“Do you?”

Santiago gives his friend a little shove, just enough to cause him to look his way, breaking the odd hold he has over you. “She’s a good shot,” he tells him, tells all of them. “And she’s done enough undercover work for me to know that she sure as shit can keep her head.” He looks over at you again – “I still don’t know how you managed to get out of that shit in the comuna last year.” – and then gives a wry little laugh as his head shakes absently.

“Alright,” Tom mutters just as he slams down an empty bottle and reaches over to grab a new one. “She follows orders and keeps her cool… at least we can work with that.”

Benny nudges you with his elbow and when you look up at him you’re met with the widest, sunniest of smiles – never mind the deep split in his lip from the fight that he claims to have won just a few hours prior. “Hear that? That’s just about the best kind of approval you’ll ever get from Redfly.”

“Approval?” Tom shoots across the table. His voice drops an octave as he aims a serious stare over at you. “I’m still not convinced that we can actually trust you.”

“Jesus,” Santi breathes out with an annoyed air. “You really think I’d bring her here… hell, you think I’d have put all this together with her if I didn’t think – know – that she can be trusted?”

He shrugs. “You haven’t really known her that long,” he mutters thickly, his expression slipping back into something wary as he folds his arms across his broad chest and falls into a speculative silence as he mulls over his friend’s words.

You watch him closely, trying to discern what exactly he’s thinking. But long before you’re able to draw any sort of conclusion, Benny bumps you with his shoulder again and says simply, “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. He’s onboard.”

There’s a part of you that balks at the darlin’, just as you had almost called Will out on his use of sweetheart. But the truth is – both times – the names are uttered with a casual, even reassuring, cadence that you’re certain holds no demeaning intent. And you’ve been in enough male-dominated circles over the years to be able to discern at least that much. Even the way Ben’s looking at you now – genuine grin and kind eyes – seems to hold no innuendo. So you let it slide.

“How long did it take him to trust you?” you ask, the tension in your shoulders lifting when a throaty chuckle bubbles out of him.

“Oh, I don’t know that he does. I don’t know if Tom really trusts anyone.”

A snort of a laugh rings from the other end of the table, surprisingly coming from the Doubting Thomas himself. “You’re so full of shit,” he mumbles as he sits back upright and grabs his beer. He takes a giant swig and tacks on for good measure, “Besides, nothing wrong with being… cautious. My being – ”

“A distrustful prick,” Santiago interjects brazenly.

“Whatever you want to call it,” he counters with a faux-saccharine lilt. “It’s saved all your asses more than a time or two. Hasn’t it?”

There’s a quick round of almost wistful snickers from nearly all the men, each seeming to light onto a particular memory, their gazes faltering and ticking briefly off towards nothing. The exception is Frankie, who simply stares down at the battered beer bottle in front of him, sticker half peeled off and clinging to his fingernails as he continues to work at it with a frown. “What about this informant of yours,” he says, low voice slicing into the newfound silence. He shifts nervous eyes over to the man at his right. “You’re sure she can be trusted?”

Without hesitation, Santiago nods. “I’m sure of it. And besides, we’re not basing all of this just on her word. You read the file, right?” He glances over at you and ticks his chin in your direction. “We checked it out. We’ve been out there enough to get a lay of the land. We’ve seen the deliveries of cash coming in… and not going back out.”

Will speaks next, his words soft and slow. “Could all be a setup… a giant, well-planned setup.”

You shake your head. “No. No, it’s legit.” Five sets of eyes turn to you, drilling into you for something more substantial. But the truth is, all that you have is in that file. And, yeah, it could be an elaborate setup. Or – more likely than that – just a really, really bad idea. But your gut says it’s neither. Your gut says that this whole damn thing is the only way to put an end to Lorea’s ever-growing cartel.

Tom’s eyes narrow at you once again, suspicion still lingering in his glare. “How’d this all happen, huh? How’d you even get involved with this… this shit-brain scheme?” he asks before the serious countenance begins to crack and he blows out a harsh chuckle. “How’d Pope sucker you into all this?”

Santiago answers before you get a chance to even open your mouth. “I didn’t sucker anybody into anything. And I don’t use the same callsign down there, so…”

Your eyes flash over to meet his, face splitting into an insolent grin. “Pope…” you mutter, popping the p at the end. “How exactly did you get that name, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to know.”

“He spent his first firefight hailing Mary through the coms,” Will chimes in with a teasing lilt. “All damn night.”

“I was nineteen.” He defends… almost whines. “You wanna tell her how you got Ironhead?”

He shrugs and takes another pull of his beer. “I’m not embarrassed.”

Frankie smirks from the other side of the table as he issues out under his breath, “You should be.”

Your eyes bounce eagerly back and forth between the men, silently pleading for someone to tell you the story of Will’s ridiculous moniker. But it seems that you’ve once again gone invisible.

“Hey, he held that record for a solid decade,” Benny mutters beside you. “And I’m pretty sure that dipshit, MacCovey, cheated to take the title.”

“How can you cheat at that?” Frankie asks with an incredulous laugh.

“He cheated.”

“Cheated at what?” you blurt out, eager to just hear the tale. “Ironhead’s a title? With a record? For what?”

Will pivots in his seat, flashing you a smug grin as he rather haughtily announces, “Record for the most concussions sustained during basic training. And no one can take Ironhead away from me… especially not some hardheaded kid from freaking New York.”

“How do you know he was from New York?” Santi asks.

Frankie cocks his head at his friend too. “You met him?”

“Didn’t he die?” Tom interjects, confusion suddenly weaving through the lot of them.

“Did he?” Will asks. “Shit, guess he wasn’t that hardheaded after all.”

Benny leans forward to address them all. “He didn’t die. Just lost a leg. Roadside bomb.”

“Shit,” his brother repeats solemnly.

“Was supposed to be his last tour too. Well, guess it still was.” He looks down for a somber beat before lighting on Frankie. “And I heard that he never actually hit his head when he fell off that tower, so… cheated.”

Throughout all of the back and forth, you just sit, eyes wide, expression both amused and deeply concerned. “Jesus,” you finally breathe out once everyone falls quite. You turn to Will, look a little closer at him as though you might be able to discern some of the damage done so many years ago. “Are you… okay?”

He lets out a hearty laugh and raps his knuckles on his skull. “Nothing to worry about here,” he tells you with a wide smile. “Ironhead, remember?”

Tom snorts and shakes his head skeptically. “Tune’ll change when that CTE shit kicks in… start wandering around the neighborhood, talking to yourself, picking fights with people in grocery stores.” He stops short and flashes a shit-eating grin. “Oh wait…”

The joke – if there even really is one – is lost on you. But Will must get it, because his face flashes in irritation, a mere, “Very funny,” falling from his lips as he brings his beer bottle up to meet them.

You let out a sigh – “I’m confused.” – and choose to ignore Tom in favor of getting more of the story from Ironhead himself. “Did you get concussions on purpose? Why does this seem to be some kind of source of pride?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…”

“What about that full can of soup you tried to crush on your head?” Frankie interjects with a raised brow.

“Yeah, alright, there was that one,” he concedes.

Your forehead furrows deeper. “If you were always getting hurt, why didn’t they call you something like, Falls-a-Lot or Unlucky Charms or just Blockhead?”

He stares at you for a long moment, face hardening into a stoic set. “Wasn’t Tom asking how you got yourself into all this? Wasn’t that what we were talking about?”

You offer a nonchalant shrug. “Don’t think we were really talking about it…”

“She basically started it,” Santiago states simply. “I mean, I was in the minute she brought it up, completely in. But it was her shit-brained scheme from the get-go.”

“Really?” Tom smarts, skeptical look once again riding his face as he takes a pull from his beer.

“Look,” you begin, tone painfully sincere, “I’ve been on the losing end of this battle for years. And the people down there, the families… the kids he recruits…” You stop for a beat and slowly, bitterly shake your head. “Lorea, and all the others like him… It’s their turn to lose.”

Tom nods, his gaze never breaking from yours. “You do realize you sound just like him,” he mutters, ticking his chin towards Santi. “Seriously,” he begins, stare serious, but tone glib. “Did you two hatch this crazy little plan together in bed?”

You glance over at Garcia, quickly taking note of the burning blush creeping up his neck as he hides beneath his baseball cap and tries not to laugh. Then, on their way back to Tom, your eyes light on Frankie. He too is ducking his head. But he doesn’t seem to be laughing like the others. Rather, from what you can make out beneath the shadow of his hat, he looks… embarrassed. No. Dejected.

Your heart skips a beat and you blurt out suddenly, “We’re not sleeping together,” a little too loudly to come across as anything other than agonizingly defensive. The laughter intensifies and you clear your throat before going on to say, “Garcia’s usually too busy fucking his informants to ever even think of giving me the time of day.”

Benny just about loses it, his body pulsating with fits of giggles as he leans back a bit and reaches out to give you a high five. You oblige, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you see Santiago shift across from you. He peers at you from beneath the ballcap, eyes dark and smile wide as he says, voice deep and honeyed, “Oh, bonita, trust me, I’ve thought about it.”

You roll your eyes and tip back the nearly empty bottle to your lips, draining the last dregs of your beer before rising and stating, “I’ll get the next round… as long you guys promise to do nothing but regale me with embarrassing stories about Pope for the rest of the night.”

000

Jetlag. It’s something you’ve experienced countless times over the years, hopping from place to place, office to outpost to field. And yet you’ve never really managed to get used to it, the bone-deep fatigue kicking your ass after each and every trip you’ve ever taken. A full day of travel, and now a full night of drinking, and by the time the lot of you stumble out of the bar, you’re barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

“Lightweight, huh?” Benny jokes as he pushes past you on the way to his car.

You grumble under your breath, something akin to, shut the fuck up, though your words aren’t all that put together right now either. But Ben doesn’t hear any of it anyway, he’s already giving his brother an unforgiving shove in the nearly empty parking lot and laughing maniacally as he dodges the lazy retaliatory punch.

“Don’t mind him,” Frankie mutters from behind you. You stop and turn, squinting through the harsh halogen light piercing your eyes as you look up at him. He notices the pained grimace you give and lets out a light chuckle as he takes your elbow and swings you back around to lead you to the car. “You seem more tired than drunk to me,” he says with a lilt as he easily slips his arm beneath yours for a little extra support.

Without thinking, you let your head tip to the side and rest on his shoulder. “Soooo tired,” you bemoan. A deep rumble of a laugh pulls from Frankie’s chest, reverberates up and through his entire body so that you feel it vibrate into you. It makes you smile. It makes you tuck yourself in a little closer. You stumble a bit, your toe catching on a crack in the pavement, and before you can even think to right yourself, his arm pulls away and reaches around, the warmth of his hand splaying across your hip as he steadies you. “Maybe a little drunk too,” you admit with a sigh.

If he thinks it’s odd that you’ve burrowed so close to him, or if he’s the least bit uncomfortable with your fingers now clinging to the back of his shirt, or if he’s irritated at having to slow to a crawl to help you to Santiago’s car, he doesn’t show it. Instead he easily slows his pace to match yours, giving your hip a little squeeze as he says, “Hey, sorry about earlier.”

Your shuffling stops as you pull back to look up at him with a confused frown. “You mean telling that story about Santiago’s ex? I don’t think I’m the one… to apologize…” Your brow furrows even deeper as you try to sift through what you just said, trying to determine if it makes any sense.

He lets out another low laugh, the sound quickly becoming a new favorite tune. “No. I mean about…” He hesitates for a moment, the smile slowly melting from his face. “When I was… questioning you. Whether or not you’re up for this. And, you know, whether or not you’re getting played.”

“Oh,” you bark out, far louder than intended. “Yeah, no.” You wave it off and waste no time at all – fatigue and alcohol both wiping away any embarrassment you might otherwise feel at plastering yourself up against a near stranger – falling back into him.

He chuckles again as he hikes you a bit higher and leads you over to the tiny blue rental car in the corner of the lot. “It’s just… I know you put a lot of work into gathering the intel. And I know this is… important to you. Or you wouldn’t be here. But still…”

You turn your face into his shoulder, his chest, unabashedly breathing in the musky scent from the collar of his jacket as you mumble into him, “I promise not to fuck it up. At least not too bad.”

“Hey!” Garcia calls out from the car, swinging the back door open as you two approach. “You getting handsy with my girl?”

Frankie snorts out a laugh, incredulous, almost sardonic, and not nearly as endearing as the ones that have been rumbling into you for the last however many glorious minutes it’s been. “Not your girl,” you mutter blandly. “Too risky… too many possible diseases.”

“Hilarious,” he deadpans, standing back as Frankie helps you into the car, his palm pressing gently on the back of your head to make sure you duck inside safely. “She took like five Xanax on the flight in,” he tells his friend with a snicker. “Probably shouldn’t have let her drink so much on top of that.”

“Hate flying,” you breathe out as you settle back, harshly tugging at the seatbelt to your left.

Frankie shakes his head in amusement as he watches you grow increasingly frustrated with the non-cooperative seatbelt. “How can you hate flying?” he asks, crooked smile stretching across his face.

You stop the infernal struggle and collapse back into the seat, “Fucking hate it,” coming out of you in a petulant whine.

“Alright,” he murmurs amid a snicker as he leans into the car, easily tugging the seatbelt out and reaching around to buckle you in. Your eyes droop further, slipping closed as he pulls back out of the car, fading into the night. “You guys good?” you hear him ask, the deep tenor of his voice sounding even more melodic when penetrating the dark.

“Yeah,” Santiago tells him, fatigue drowning just that single word. “We’re over at the Motor Inn. Just a few miles up. Listen, Frankie… thanks for this. Really. This…” You almost open your eyes again, want to just to see if the expression on Garcia’s face matches the earnestness in his tone. “This isn’t just a standard op, you know. To me. To her. This is… just… thanks.”

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “Well, uh… I’ll see you Thursday.”

The only other sounds you hear before slipping away entirely are the door gently closing beside you, the engine starting up in a soft roar, and Santiago muttering, seemingly to himself from the front seat, “I am not carrying your ass to bed.”

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #will ironhead miller #benny miller

74 notes · View notes

yet-another-saberface · 4 years ago

Text

Fate/ & My Anxiety

Okay, so, I kinda had a rough day today, but that rough day really made me want to write this. I’d been thinking about it for a bit, but now I’m sure that this is something I should put out there, because I’m sure at least someone out there has had a similar experience. And if I write this correctly, it should be an interesting read anyways. (Post now updated with a cut & pretty gifs and things! I tried to keep the gifs more positive to offset some of the more serious parts of what I’m discussing.) So uh... Enjoy I guess? It’s kinda what it says on the tin.

Warning for serious mentions of anxiety and stuff. But I try to keep it lighter than it could be. For anyone else that might have some anxiety problems like me, it might help you to read this, because it’s really just a discussion of some themes I’ve taken away from the series that really helped me with my own anxiety. But whether you read it or not you should probably take a sec to breathe, that never hurts.

So. I’m going to be upfront about this. I have anxiety. Not just a normal amount of stress, but actual, diagnosed anxiety. I am not medicated, but at the moment that’s mostly because my doctors think that trying medication during this whole pandemic situation wouldn’t actually let them know if it would help me in the long term. I’ve been living with anxiety for pretty much my entire life, but I just thought everyone was stressed out, and that life sucked, and that I was bad at dealing with it. But that wasn’t the case.

But one thing is going to ring true for me regardless of what the state of my anxiety is, be it in the moment or over the course of my life. And that’s that like most things, media helped me with it before I even realized what it was. As I sit around in quarantine and try to manage my fluctuating stress levels, I’ve found myself drifting back to the Fate Series, and FGO, after taking a break from them for few months, arguably even the past year.

At this point, it’s been around 3 years, maybe even 4, since I originally discovered Fate. And I’m not going to lie, I didn’t get the best possible first impression, because I started with the Deen anime from 2005. I’d seen Saber before, had no idea who she was other than some chic I vaguely looked like with a good character design and a sword, and saw her on the cover of an anime. So I watched it. I had no idea what the hell was going on, and was trying to piece everything together as I watched, but I watched to the end. And I liked it. It definitely wasn’t my favorite show. But when I heard that it was “the bad one,” and that there was more, I gladly went to go watch it.

And that might not make sense at first, but I’m emitting a huge detail. I was, and still am, a huge mythology nerd. As I was watching the original Stay Night anime, I was fascinated by the portrayals of these characters that, technically, I already knew. And I was really into the idea that there was more of that.

So later that year, I watched Fate/Zero. And I’m gonna be honest, I was too young to really appreciate everything it had to offer, and I’m planning on going back to it soon, but I loved every second of that show. When I got the chance, I binged through it, and it was heavy stuff, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from it.

And after that, I started looking up what else there was. I watched Carnival Phantasm in maybe 2 days tops and adored it. I procrastinate on watching a lot of stuff, because I found myself having less and less time to myself, but that same summer I watched Zero, I also started playing FGO. I started the game for the characters I already knew. I stayed because I found a story I was genuinely invested in on its own, and a community that was really fun to observe, if not be an active part of. I still remember sitting down on a day when I had nothing to do and finishing Okeanos all in one go. Or laying down after a long day at school and doing the same to a ReRun event. It was a great stress outlet, and I was invested.

But the more I look back on all of that, I start to see details that explain even better why I was so invested. I don’t have a single favorite Fate character, but I will admit that I adore Saber. She’s what drew me in, my friends who know Fate apparently think I look like her, and we all know the Excalibur scene from Zero looks like it should be in an actual movie.

I won’t claim to be a character expert, despite being a writer. I didn’t write Saber, let alone any other Fate character. But the more I think about her, the more I start to realize that yeah, I understand a lot of what she’s gone through. Do I know what it’s like to be a King and run a country and what that entails? No obviously not. But I do know what it’s like to feel that you have a duty to everyone around you to not screw things up. I understand how someone could feel extremely guilty when they do eventually screw things up. There’s a lot of ways to look at any character, but I realize now that from the beginning that that specific idea was the lens through which I understood Saber.

And it holds true for most other characters. With Shirou, did I understand losing your parental figure or an undying desire to be a hero? Not really. But I did understand the fact that he felt like he wasn’t good enough, and that he gained value by putting himself on the line for others. I may not have risked my life for another person, but I’ve definitely put myself through mental stress enough to induce multiple panic attacks a day for other people.

And now we get to the part of this... I don’t want to call it an essay. The part of this post. Where I talk about Gil.

Am I aware that in most (early) depictions of him in Fate, he’s a horrible dick of a person who deserves no respect? Yes, I am.

But I also know that when I think about some of the less horrible aspects of him as a character now, there’s stuff in there I should take away that is good. I just went on an whole rant about how I can understand low self esteem and self sacrifice and crushing responsibility and the pressure to not screw it all up. And these days, I can’t stop thinking about how Saber admitted to a lot of that and (this is obviously a gross oversimplification but you should get by now that this is personal and specific) the response from Gil and Rider was “It sounds like you aren’t living life as happily as you could and are setting a bad example of how to live life for those that look up to you.” And that idea keeps coming back to me in every moment when I’m having an anxiety attack, or cram studying even though I know I’m ready, or finishing something due two weeks from now tonight because I won’t have to do it later. And it only hits me harder because I know I’m not a King or anything lofty like that, but I am a labeled “gifted student” and a support person for many of my friends and a designated “responsible one” and all of these other things. And yet I’m preaching for them to do as I say not as I do when it comes to enjoying life and taking care of yourself.

I don’t know if I fully internalized that message when I first watched that scene. But I must have in some capacity because it still haunts me now, reminding me that maybe I shouldn’t be giving into all of this stress. And I’m trying, I really am, to keep that in mind as I fight against all of it and try to keep things under control.

And then there’s Babylonia. When I really get down to it, I have a pretty strong emotional connection to this part of FGO. I joined the game pretty late, roughly right after Camelot’s release, so I had a lot of catching up to do. But I caught up, and I got to experience this story that I’d heard was one of the best in the game as it came out. If I wanted to I could say a LOT more about Babylonia, and maybe I will in the future.

But I’m not going to deny that CasGil has been a pretty prominent presence in my mind ever since when it comes to stress and responsibility. (Heck I could probably talk about just him specifically for at least a good 5th of what I have so say about Babylonia. Maybe I will someday.) I mean, it’s kind of his thing, you see the fandom joke about it all the time how he’s the Gil that doesn’t sleep because he just keeps on working and working and working. And that’s why there was this one moment when I was watching the Babylonia anime that now stands out to me. When Gil goes with the player out to the observatory, he just leaves. He doesn’t bother apologizing to anyone or explaining his actions, he just goes. And we know, as basically an outsider, that this is him taking a break. He needed a break and so he just took a break without any clarifications or explanations or apologies. Sure he might justify it to the player has needing to do some other work out there, but that actually makes it hit harder for me. Because he’s justifying his breaks as more work.

I used to be lucky enough to have a clear cut line between what was my time and what was other people’s time (that I was giving them out of my time) and what time belonged to school/work. And now all of that has been thrown out the window and I’ve been having to teach myself how to do what I just described.

Take a goddamn break without having to tell everyone else how sorry I am for taking a day to actually rest and breathe and all those other important things. And yet I still have to justify those breaks to myself as time to take care of other things. 90% of the time, those breaks aren’t breaks to me, they’re time to work on my novel instead of my essay, or something like that.

And then I glance down at my phone and I’m hit with most of what I just wrote flooding into my head. And I try to tell myself that no, it’s okay to just take a break. And that I should be allowing myself to enjoy being alive instead of being a slave to expectations and responsibilities. And that as a person I know other people look up to I should be setting a better example of how to take care of yourself. And sometimes it works. Other times there’s more things at play and it doesn’t get through to me the same way, but it’s something that works. All of the hours I’ve spent with those character remind me that what I’m doing isn’t okay on a pretty regular basis at this point. And I’m really glad for that. And I hope that all of this stuff will continue to help me as it’s helping me right now.

At least I know that when I feel like I’m freaking out, I can open FGO and play through a quest and I’ll usually feel better. So I’m just gonna keep trying, keep managing, until I find a place where it’s finally all okay again, as much as it can be.

(P.S: More reasons that CasGil is my grailing target right now? Yeah that’s true but these reasons are deeper than “I got a Merlin look at that” or “Grailing Jalter is useful.” He’s a character that’s genuinely important to me and I think that finally investing in him is going to be really satisfying for me.)

#fgo #fate go #fate/go #fate grand order #fate/grand order #my writing #life update #i guess #serious stuff #if you read this thank you so much #anxiety #i don't know if stuff like this will become regular content #it might i dunno #but if it does it'll be more analysis and less personal #but seriously y'all take a break #breathe #take care of yourself #and if characters help you do that that's great

20 notes · View notes

fuck-miniladd · 5 years ago

Text

This post is a few days late since I already wrote it out but then lost all of it and I didn’t really feel like writing the entire essay again, but I feel obligated as someone who has a “Mini Ladd” hate blog, so here it is.

Three days ago, some drama went down in the BBS fandom, primaliry between MiniLadd AKA Craig and TheGamingTerroriser AKA Brian. What I’m going to do in the post is present all the posts and explain in depth why Craig is the worst.

It all started when Craig tweeted this:

Before I start saying anything, let’s just make it clear that there was no reason to “clear” any air at all. The rumor Craig mentioned hasn’t been something that people were spreading a lot or even mentioning to be honest. As someone who went out of their way to try to find information about why Craig left, I feel it’s safe to say that not many people blamed anyone for anything and that it wasn’t even on anyones mind. It’s old news. No one really even cared about it anymore. He randomly brought up old drama for seemingly no reason at all. Moving on, there’s a lot to unpack in this tweet so I’ll be dividing the note he sent into bits and explain my point of view of things with the help of Brian’s side (which he tweeted later). You can find Brian’s full response here. It’s important you read this before coming to any conclusions, I will be using information from it (but I will also explain it so no need to read it before reading this).

So let’s take a look at Craig’s firs tweet, here is how it starts off:

This first line alone already sits uncomfortably and seems to have an ulterior motive. As I said before, it’s something really random to even bring up. Other than that, the way he phrased the rumor, “I hate everyone I used to play with”, frames it in a way where this story only has one side. If the rumor is only that Craig hates other people, all he has to do is explain/prove that he doesn’t hate them. This leaves no place for any other point of views. This would be fine if that’s all there was to this, and if he didn’t blame Brian for everything. The rumor is more “MiniLadd isn’t friends with some of the members of the group anymore” and less “MiniLadd hates them”, which seems like a minor difference, but in reality, it both manages to eliminate other peoples’ point of view and paint himself as the victim. Also notice how he says “everyone I used to play with” and not “the old group” or something along those lines, which if you know Craig well, you know he’s always had an issue with calling the group “a group”, mostly because he felt like he was under Vanoss AKA Evan’s shadow (you can search MiniLadd’s twitter for key words “Vanoss” or “group” and you’ll see tweets regarding this point) which is just another shitty personality trait he has.

Now Craig begins explaining himself, and holy shit do I have things to say about this:

Craig claims that the main clash is between himself and Brian (true) and that it happened over a year ago at E3 when Brian made fun of Craig by saying, and here’s a “near quote”: “it’s so sad you’re too fucked up to take a joke anymore”. Of course that if this was true, then Craig has every right to not want to talk to Brian anymore, but since I’ve been following both of them for a while now, I can say that this doesn’t sound accurate or like Brian at all. Brian also retweeted Craig’s tweet and said that the quote he put is “pure slander” and that he’d never make fun of anyone’s mental health.

Of course, up to here we have no way of really knowing the truth, but if you read Brian’s point of view, things start to make more sense. Let’s start with the fact that this is exactly around the time Brian’s dad passed away. This information isn’t hidden and you can see the dates add up by checking when E3 was and by checking Brian’s old twitter posts where he talks about it. Now I find it extremley hard to believe Brian said what Craig claims he said in the first place, but if you add the fact that Brian himself wasn’t in his best mental state, it makes even less sense for him to make a comment like that. Why would someone who he himself is having a hard time mentally and knows how it feels make fun of someone else at the same time? Brian also explains the whole story (from his point of view) which seems to make sense and explain a lot. I will try to present Brian’s story shortly right now.

According to Brian, he bumped into Craig at at the E3 Monstercat party. After the party, he took an Uber with Craig and Wildcat AKA Tyler to someone’s house. In the Uber, Tyler made some joke about Craig’s ferrari (yes he owns a ferrari... and you want it say he isn’t a dick?) to which Brian joined, because you know, friends make fun of each other all the time. Fast forward, they reach their destination. Brian says that a lot of people needed to use the bathroom, so he made a joke saying he’ll pee in the pool and pulled down his pants and pretended to pee in it. So far sounds a lot like how I’d expect an after party of a bunch of 20 somethings to go. Brian says that later, Craig went up to his girlfriend who was alone in her room, and when he came back down he made it seem that Brian and his girlfriend (Lanai) were unwelcome, so they left. Brian claims that he believed everything was fine and maybe he just misinterpeted what was going on. Moving on to the next day, apparently the group wanted to have a dinner together becuase they rarely all meet up together. Craig took it upon himself to make the reservation, where he invited everyone but Brian and his girlfriend. Brian only found out about the dinner three hours before when BasicallyIDoWrk AKA Marcel found out that he wasn’t invited and brought it to his attention. When Marcel asked Craig why he left Brian out, Craig said he’d tell him over dinner (which confirms that he did it on purpose and didn’t have any intent on adding him). During dinner, Craig explained that the night before Brian was making everything awkward for everyone else with the Ferrai joke and pool joke specifically. After dinner, Brian and his girlfriend went to a party that all his friends attended, including Mini. In the party, Mini approached him with a half-hearted “Hi”, which upset Brian because it made it clear to him Craig wasn’t aware of how upset Brian was over the way Mini handled things up to this point. Brian explained to Mini that if he did anything that upset him, he should’ve just told him and he would’ve stopped and even apologized. Brian had no way of really knowing that his jokes made Craig feel awkward or uncomfortable, and since they’re friends, he’d expect Craig to tell him that. Since they’re friends, again, not inviting him to a dinner with all his friends that happens maybe every 4 years instead of just talking about it normally was just extremely immature, selfish and straight up cruel (my words, not Brian’s). Craig interjected with “I have so much in my mind right now” to which Brian replied with “We all have things going on in our life”. (Get ready for this next part because it literally shook me) then, Craig said “but Brian, my dog just died” to which Brian replied with “Craig, my dad just died but that doesn’t give me the right to take my frustrations out on everyone else because of my own personal grievances and use that as a reasonable excuse for my actions. I can’t tell what’s going on in your brain, no one can. Unless you tell me about your personal issues, how can I tell that you’re sensitive to jokes we are making that we think are all in good fun but unaware to me, it’s upsetting you? You can’t hold that against me as if I am attacking you and being a dick on purpose because I don’t lnow what’s going on inside your brain.” Let’s make it clear that I don’t believe this is exactly what was said, but I do believe this is much closer to the truth than “it’s so sad you’re too fucked up to take a joke anymore”. It’s a realisitic response to a realistic story that’s backed up by facts we can easily check. I would also like to add the fact Brian mentioned specifically Tyler and especially Marcel in the story. Marcel’s role in Brian’s story is crucial, and I doubt Brian would lie that he was part of it. If that part of the story didn’t happen, Marcel can just call Brian out for it (I don’t expect him to join in on the drama, but if something like that didn’t really happen I’d expect at least Mini to call it out and ask Marcel for back up). It’s also important to note that Marcel is still playing a lot with Brian and seems to still be good friends with him, while he doesn’t seem to really be in contact with Mini and Mini also didn’t mention him in his dumb rant about how he still has friends (more on that later), which leads me to the solid conclusion that if he were to take a side, it would be Brian’s, and that what Brian said was true. Moving on, Brian said he ended the conversation and not Mini like he claimed he did. This one point is something that I won’t say much about because it doesn’t really have much importance to the story overall, but I would like to say that Craig saying he is the one who stopped the conversation because he “couldn’t take this”, wether it’s true or not (it’s not), is another way he paints himself as the victim and righteous one. Craig then says he told Brian if he wants to apologize to him he can come to him. Brian says that Craig passed this message onto him through Marcel, which again adding Marcel into the mix makes Brian’s story more believable. That last line was also used by Craig to make himself seem like a good guy. Then Craig says he reached out to Brian when he was at Tyler’s house to which Brian didn’t reply. Brian explained he chose to ignore it because it didn’t feel sincere, which it probably wasn’t: Tyler and everyone else who was at Tyler’s probably encouraged Craig to send Brian a message because they obviously don’t want their friends in a feud. After reading Brian’s post, things seem to make more sense. Brian’s side is more believable in every single possible way, so by now I’m convinced that that’s almost exactly what happened.

Finally I can move on to the next paragraph Craig wrote:

He says Brian has made it seem like Craig hates everyone on his streams. Are you serious Craig? Brian replied to this claim with video proof (notice it’s not in chronological order. If anyone has any questions about this point DM me) of what really happened. I already made a seperate post (linked later) about this, but to summarise it shortly, Craig brought the subject up in one of his streams first in a rude way that was pretty insulting to the group (he also made it seem himself that he wasn’t really their friend anymore by saying “they still play Gmod?”. A friend would know something like that...). There’s a lot more to say about that video but as I already said I already made a post about that so you can go check that out. Anyways, after this happend, Brian commented on the feud in one of his livestreams because the chat kept spamming about it. Brian only mentioned the things Craig mentioned, so it’s obvious he didn’t even want to talk about it and he only did because Craig already “revealed” some information about it. Now Craig talks about how he still meets up with some of the guys which is boring and dumb. He also mentions Evan and says they’re good friends which is funny considering this post and how he was always, and probably still is, extremley jealous of Evan (check Craig’s twitter for “Vanoss” or “group”).

The next paragraph is the continuation of the previous one:

Ok ya you still have friends whatever. Then he blames Brian again that he spread the rumor by saying Mini “ditched everyone”. If you look at the streams Brian (and I) linked you can see exactly what was said, and that if anyone started a rumor it was Mini himself. Then he once again pretends to be the good guy in this whole scenario by wishing Brian all the best and what not.

Now comes my favorite part:

Craig says he wanted to let the world know, which is just hilarious because he later claims he wanted it to be private but couldn’t because Brian wasn’t answering, so he completly contardicted himself in the span of an hour or two (also known as lying, in this case, to look good). To make this even better, he only said he wanted it to be private when Nogla AKA David mentioned it here:

For context, this is what Craig commented on Brian’s post (as in Brian’s retweet of Craig’s first tweet. It’s the fourth screenshot I shared). Also here’s Brian’s reply to it because it’s solid:

Going back to David’s reply, Craig replied to him by saying that Brian’s side of the story is on Youtube while his isn’t anywhere. David then asked Craig to send a link as proof. I personally tried to look for any video presenting Brian’s side and surprise surprise, found nothing at all, which is really funny considering the fact Craig claims there are “a lot of vidoes floating around of his (Brian’s) side of the story”:

Later, Craig tweeted another dumb tweet that paints himself as the victim, to which David replied with: "Why didn’t you reply to my tweet to you?” (I can’t add anymore images. If anyone is interested of seeing screenshots of the rest, DM me)

(Regarding the tweet where he asked for video proof). Craig hasn’t answered yet, and doesn’t seem like he’s planning on answering him, which I get because he straight up lied and doesn’t have any proof to back up what he said.

We finally reached Craig’s last tweet: “The last thing i’m going to tweet on this. Dont pick sides. Dont sent hate anyones way, this is not the intent. The intent was to clear the air after a lot of peoples suspicions and after things were said about me. Let’s all move on together. Much love <3″

At least the first sentence here isn’t a lie! That’s a first for Mini! Other than that, it’s very interesting how he tells people not to pick sides after what he said about Brian. If you only read Mini’s side, it really seems like Brian is a complete ass who honestly doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt. He just knows Brian will reply to him, so he’s already defending himself and ending the discussion before Brian gets a chance. He once again manages to erase Brian’s point of view before he even gets a chance to say it by telling people not to pick sides. If there are no sides to be picked, there is no reason to read the other side. He then once again pretends to be an angel by saying there’s no need to send hate, explaining this was just to put a rumor to rest (even though there was really no need to do that Craig) and asking everyone to move on... from something that no one really even cared about until he brought it up. A final point to conclude all of Mini’s tweets is how much his version of the story victimizes himself and makes Brian seem really evil. It’s true that if you only read Brian’s side you’re more likely to be on Brian’s side, but Brian’s is much more objective than Mini’s. Brian truly tells it how it is, and honeslty, until Craig doesn’t invite him to the dinner, you also feel for Craig in Brian’s story.

A couple hours later, Brian tweets this: Sorry for the drama today guys. This isn’t fair on you and that’s why I wanted this to stay private <3″

To me this seems pretty genuine since all he says is that he wanted this “feud” to stay private, which is backed up by the fact that, ya know, he never mentioned it until Mini did (even before with the streams). Also notice how Brian spells correctly and Mini doesn’t lol. The next day, Brian finally tweets his reply which in comparison to Craig’s is detailed, realisitic, has proof, is well worded, didn’t come out of nowhere just to start drama, and is just genuine in every single way (link in the beginning).

So in conclusion, I think the entire twitter thread was made for me because it just showed all of Craig’s ugly sides: selfish, immature, idiot, heartless, shit friend, shit person, irrational, crybaby and self-centered. If you weren’t sure if you like Craig or not, this thread should easily sway you to the “fuck MiniLadd” side. I hope no one sends Brian any sort of hate because of the lies Craig wrote. I’m happy for him he ended his relationship with such a toxic friend and hope the rest of the crew see it soon too.

#MiniLadd #terroriser #the gaming terroriser #craig thompson #bbs #vanoss #vanossgaming #wildcat #iamwildcat #basicallyidowrk #nogla #daithi de nogla #fuck mini aye

68 notes · View notes

rogerisakindofmagic · 6 years ago

Text

It’s so easy, all you have to do is (not to) fall in love and play the game Roger Taylor x Famous!Reader

SUMMARY: You are a famous actress that casually meets Queen on a night out, ever since then you are inseparable, especially with the handsome drummer Roger.

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, also a little of Brian x reader but not much.

A/N: This is the first time I post one of these here, I hope you like it and do tell me if you want me to write more! I am open for requests. Thanks for reading!

You’ve met the boys at a bar.

It was their last day London before they went touring in America. You decided to go by yourself because work was stressing you out and you wanted to relax a little.

You were a famous actress, recognized for being pretty much extravagant and weird as the critics would call you, but really talented too, you were a singer her too, but sang mostly in movies and sometimes in musicals. Famous singers like David Bowie would often invite you to their tours and maybe sing with them at their shows.

Freddie found you sitting alone and immediately recognized you, so he quickly made his way towards you.

“Are you by any chance Y/N?” a familiar voice asked you, you turned around only to find the one and only Freddie Mercury standing next to you. you smiled excitedly.

“Yes, that’s me” you answered, the smile never leaving your face “And you must be Freddie Mercury”

“The one and only” he answered with a bow and you smiled, excitement filling your senses.

“I’m a huge fan, really” you started “I’ve followed you since the beginning and you guys are the best”

“I’m honored to heard that darling! I’ve heard so much about you, I always wanted to chat with you”

“I hope good things, though” you said, your happy mood suddenly changed and Freddie noticed “The media comes up with many lies” you took a sip of your drink and Freddie smiled.

“Yeah, they do, I’m familiarized” he said and you smiled.

“Why don’t you join me and the others?” he suddenly asked taking you by surprise

“Really?”

“Of course! The other die to meet you too” you agreed and took your glass, Freddie turned back to the bartender and asked for drinks before taking you towards their table.

Brian and John were laughing at something Roger said and as soon as Freddie came back the three turned to look at you.

“You won’t believe who I found while I asked for drinks” Freddie said

“Is that Y/N?” Brian said, standing up from his seat to greet you properly

“In the flesh” you said and the others stood up as well.

“I am a huge fan” John said, shaking your hand timidly “All your work is truly amazing and honestly your an icon for our era” you smiled.

“Thank you John”

“Wait a second, you know us?” Brian asked

“Of course! I am a huge fan” you admitted and the whole band smiled widely

“It is an honor to finally meet you, love” your eyes finally turned to Roger, e/c eyes meeting a beautiful pair of blues. You have seen Roger in pictures before and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t hot.

“I can say the same about you” as she shacked his hand a warm feeling traveled from his touch towards her, making her cheeks a faint pink.

Your drinks arrive after the greetings and you all took your seats, you sitting next to Roger

“Y/N is having problems with the media” Freddie said

“Oh really? We haven’t heard” Roger sarcastically said and you laughed

“Yeah, they are full of shit” you took a sip of your drink.

“Don’t listen to them, you really are an inspiration for a lot of people, pretty badass too” Brian added

“Thank you Brian” you said “But don’t worry, I told them that myself”

Roger chuckled and Freddie smirked amused while John and Brian said “Cheers to that” and drank the rest of their drinks.

You were also famous for not taking everyone’s shit, you were nice and kind and always managed to say what you thought freely in a nice way. And though you had a lot of fans and a lot of countries loved you, some magazines talked shit about you, like how you are so rude to people and also kind of a slut, which you are the complete opposite and everyone knew, but there were still stupid people that believed that.

“The second round is on me” you said and the boys cheered.

Once the drinks were refilled Freddie asked for your attention.

“I propose a toast” he raised his glass “For the upcoming tour and new friendships”

“For the upcoming tour and the friendships!” the rest of you cheered and sipped your drinks. Your gaze meeting Roger’s with a smirk as he placed his hand on your thigh.

•••

You groaned opening your eyes “What the hell?” You said as you looked around the strange room.

“You’re finally up”

You were fully awake now, rapidly looking at yourself realizing you were pretty much naked.

Roger appeared with two glasses of water and handed you one, you thanked him and the memories from last night came back like a splash of cold water. You remembered the band, you singing, the drinks, the plane, Roger’s lips as he kissed down towards your… Wait a minute THE PLANE!?

You quickly stood up, ignoring the fact that you were completely naked before the ages of an Stranger an looked out the window

Roger smiled “I didn’t know you liked to be seen” he joked and you’d have laughed if the shock of being on a foreign country wasn’t overtaking your body. Roger thought you were going to faint, and his smile turned into utter shock as he heard you laughing.

“Well, I didn’t expect that reaction”

“Oh my god” you said “I took it really far this time” you continued laughing and Roger joined you.

“You really are a sight right now” He was walking towards you, closing the distance.

You smirked at him “Oh really?” You turned to him crossing your arms across your bare chest “How so?”

He smirked devilishly at you as he grabbed your wrist exposing your chest. “You know…” he started, pulling you closer “Naked with not a care in the world, laughing your ass off in a foreign country not caring about what you left in London”

His hands were starting to caress your skin, his rough hands against your soft skin felt incredibly good and your breath started shaking a little

“That really turns me on” you closed the distance kissing him hungrily He returned the kiss and quickly discarded his boxers, taking you towards the bed.

•••

“Look who decided to show up” Freddie said as you and Roger walked inside the restaurant.

“Had fun last night darling?” Freddie asked you and you smiled

“Yes I did” you smirked at Roger

You toured around America with them and became really close with them afterwards.

You occasionally slept with Roger and with Brian too, not really looking for anything serious until you started having feelings for the blonde. You hates to admit it, knowing Roger. But you couldn’t help but feel jealously every time he found someone new at a bar or at a party.

Or every time he’d bring some other girl to the studio. Freddie obviously noticed before everyone else, Brian and John catching your feelings towards Roger after a few death glances you gave to his last hook up.

Freddie, John and even Brian would try to encourage you to tell him but you’d always ignore them.

You’d usually take your frustration out with Brian, though you knew it wasn’t the best, you still did it.

Roger cheated his last girlfriend with you, and deep down you wanted to feel bad but you didn’t.

Roger was completely aware that you slept with Brian too. He tried to push the anger as far away as he could.

But every time he’d take your blouse off and find dark spots that he was certain he didn’t give you, he’d let the anger take him and fuck you merciless. Sometimes he’d be sweet and slow and other times it’d be hard and sensual.

You obviously noticed his change in behavior and sometimes you’d still think about it as you lay alone on your bed.

It was getting harder each time because he would ask you to do things he normally doesn’t.

Once, he asked you to stay afterwards to cuddle and you declined, saying you had to see Brian. You visibly saw his jaw clench as you mentioned his band mate and your heart raced. You gave him a passionate kiss as a goodbye, one that was obvious he didn’t want to finish but you pulled away and just like that walked out of his apartment.

He was left alone with his blood boiling as he thought of you with Brian. He’d remember you losing yourself beneath him, hands gripping the sheets tightly and chest heaving up and down as you came down from your high. Swallowing the words he meant to say, resisting the desperate need to tell you that Brian would never make you feel like he did, and that he would never love you as he did.

He groaned and decided to call someone else.

•••

“You know, you really have to tell Roger” Brian said as he lit his cigarette

“I can’t” you sighed

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid he’ll break me” you admitted

“You know Y/N, you are the strongest woman I know” he sat next to you, pulling you into a hug, his bare chest against your bare back.

“Not when it’s about him” you said “I’m sorry Brian, I feel really shitty doing this with you”

“Don’t feel like that Y/N” he said “You are really amazing”

You smiled and kissed him lightly

“Let’s sleep” he said and you nodded, letting him hold you as guilt flooded your body.

The next day, you arrived with Brian at the studio and as you greeted everyone you obviously noticed the blonde girl sitting next to Roger, anger going through your veins.

“Oh Hi!” You faked happiness “You must be Vanessa, I’ve heard so much about you” you said, throwing a smirk towards Roger’s way and e looked back at you angrily

“No, I’m Sophia” the blonde said, anger lacing her words

“I’m so sorry!” You faked an apology as everyone in the room looked at the scene amused.

“Let’s get to work!” John said, trying to break the tension that had suddenly appeared in the room.

The rest of the day you made it he’ll for Roger and that girl, occasionally calling her other names, knowing exactly that her actual name, and also being clingy towards Brian, noticing Roger’s discomfort.

Freddie and John only laughed. Brian was anxiously waited for Roger to snap and let you continue with your plan.

After a few more hours of this, Roger finally said something “Okay” He abruptly walked towards Sophie “Annie its time for you to go” he said, wincing when he noticed he got her name wrong

“It’s Sophie” she angrily said and walked out with Roger.

As the pair disappeared you bursted out laughing and the rest of the band did too.

“I see what you are doing darling” Freddie said “I like it” you continued laughing

“I’ll step out for a bit, I need some fresh air” you walked out of the room and headed outside, only to find Roger at the end of the corridor walking angrily back.

You smirked and acted innocently

He pushed you against the wall, completely trapping you between his arms “I noticed what you did back there” he said

“Oh really? And what are you going to do?” You sarcastically answered him and he growled, almost capturing your lips with his. But Brian came out and asked Roger to come back inside to continue working.

He growled angrily and you walked away, swaying your hips as he walked behind you.

It was already pretty late and you were starting to feel tired so you decided it was best to say goodbye to everyone and go back to you place. As you said goodbye, Roger was the first to offer you a ride home, and you accepted.

“I guess it’s better if we all go to our homes” John said

“He’s not coming back” they all agreed and walked out.

•••

The car ride was full with tension, and you hated it.

“Why did you do that?” Roger finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play the innocent card with me, you know exactly what you did” You stopped breathing, panic taking over your body as you thought of what to do.

“Well?” He looked at you for a moment and then back at the road.

“Because I hate when you bring other girls” you started “And I hate the way you make love to me as if you didn’t have hundreds of girls waiting” you started to feel confident

“I hate that you always make me feel like I’m the only one and I hate more that I’m not” tears were starting to fall down from yours ayes and you angrily whipped them away.

“And what I hate more is that I just can’t hate you” you sobbed “I hate that I can’t stop loving you”

Roger was speechless, looking at you with wide eyes

“I love you asshole” you gasped out, heart racing.

Roger quickly stopped the car, finally arriving at your house.

He grabbed your face and kissed you so slow and sweet that it made you weak. “Thanks for the ride” you said, and the sadness in your voice made Roger wince. You stepped outside and Roger followed you quickly “Y/N wait” he said You turned around, surprised to see him inches away from you.

“I love you too” He managed to let out, the feeling of letting those words out after months making him smile brightly.

You looked at him surprised trying to process everything. The feeling of his lips making you come back to real life and you quickly kissed him back. He opened your door, and as you got inside you quickly made your way towards your bedroom.

As you lay down next to him trying to catch your breath you smiled, looking over at him to make sure this was really happening and as the words “Stay with me” escaped his lips you felt whole and secure, making your way towards his embrace.

He smiled as he felt you relax against him, more relaxed now that he was sure you were his and he was yours.

He fell asleep happily thinking that you’d still be on his arms in the morning.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen #bohemian rhapsody #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #joe mazzello #rami malek #gwilym lee #reader #one shot #reader inser

120 notes · View notes

sagesspagesblog · 4 years ago

Text

Beatin the Rona!

I like to think that maybe we’ve learned a thing or two during this virus, for me, it’s that I have a ton of guilt when I can’t write a blog post about a recent survey in one day (and also I procrastinate more than I should). I hate to think that it’s probably going to be a lot worse than better.

19 people answered questions about Covid, about school and what they think so far. I’m not going to post all the questions I sent, because some might find them too personal/the answers were not as informative.

Q-How long have you stayed in quarantine? (click the months you've stayed in quarantine)

Q-What was the worst part of online school?

“The timing of classes and how everything was laid out.”

“there was not much structure as the teachers just emailed us work to do. also, i had to do everything by myself staying in one place all day, and i didn’t have a teacher right there to help me when i needed it.”

Q-Should masks should be mandatory indoors?

Q-Did you enjoy online school?

Q-What was/is the worst part about quarantine?

“Staying inside with my family for too long.”

“Lack of social contact with people.”

“not seeing my friends. my friends provide me with certain amounts of comfort.”

“Not being able to see all my friends or go to many places.”

“Being locked in a toxic household.”

“Being alone.”

Q-Would you attend school if schools reopened in August?

Q- Would you have online classes until cases slow down and/or a vaccine is found?

Q-Would you start school late (ex, start January) instead of in August?

Q-Do you find wearing a mask for a long period of time uncomfortable?

Q-Are you looking forward to school starting again? If so, why? If not, why not?

“Yes and no, it’ll make me feel like i’m doing something again but it’d be weird to adapt to no school, physically...”

“yes and no because they will most likely be a spike if we return to normal school and if we are doing online school i don’t want to go back.”

“I don’t really know. On one hand I was looking forward to seeing all of my friends again (obviously that isn’t happening now). However I am nervous about the workload.”

“yes and no. i want to get back into my old routine and some normalcy, but i can’t do that bc actions weren’t taken soon enough to ensure that we would. but i’m excited to start a new school year but it sucks that i have to start it online.”

“Yes because I can’t wait to see my friends that live farther away.”

“Yes, I’ve always enjoyed school, and I really want to be able to have a sense of normalcy in my life. I also would love to have normal band practices and to attend football games.”

Q-What has quarantine taught you? (To clarify, what's a lesson you learned from quarantine? Ex- I learned to check on the news everyday, I learned to be more patient.) If you can, give a story how you learned this.

“I learned to open my eyes more, take in information, and have truly seen some people’s true colors.”

“be patient and not worry about the things you cannot control. for example, i have diagnosed anxiety and it got a lot worse during the first part of quarantine but then i found better ways to cope and learned to manage it better.”

“Toilet paper is under appreciated.”

“Quarantine has really helped me learn to distance myself from certain things and people that aren’t healthy for me, and has taught me who I really value.”

“I learned how to keep myself active better when bored.”

“Life is lonely and a lot of friends are fake.”

“quarantine had taught me not to take things for granted. i am so fortunate because i have a place to go during quarantine, and a safe loving family i can turn to. many people don’t have that, and they can’t risk getting the virus because they can’t afford healthcare for it or can’t afford to take off from work.”

“To be grateful for the things I have cause other people have it way worse.”

“I’ve learned to go with the flow and to just accept what you can’t change.”

“I learned that crying is okay and being upset is a natural thing that shouldn’t be apologized for.”

“i learned that it’s important to take time for myself to just relax - quarantine made me realize just how busy my schedule was.”

“Learned that weird sleep patterns are acceptable.”

“I learned that I need to stop being so dependent on my friends to make me happy, I have to find happiness myself. I was deprived of this false sense of happiness because of quarantine, and that showed me just how dependent I was. I needed to learn how to make myself happy rather than expect someone else to do so.”

“learned to be patient and respect the time.”

“It taught me how to find motivation where there is none.”

I’d like to make a note here. Normally I like to leave myself out because these are the people’s voices that I get to share, but these times are taking away lives and jobs. I am grateful to be privileged, but I want to recognize now that Covid-19 isn’t over, and we can’t act like it is, because so many are suffering.

Q-What things did you take for granted before quarantine and the new "normal" we have now? (Ex- I loved hanging inside my best friend's house)

“I actually realized how much I liked [local High School] it wasn’t horrible as much as I thought it was and it actually felt nice to be growing up.”

“hugging people.”

“just going out wherever whenever. i’ve only gone to the beach with a max of three other people at a time, on bike rides with my sister, and to my cousin’s house. i’m kinda tired of it.”

“fun memories and jokes with my friends at school & sports practices/staying in shape easily.”

Q-What is the most interesting thing you've done/learned/achieved since quarantine?

“Mostly donated to charities amid the chaos in the world today!”

“learned how to paint and sew.”

“I learned how to knit.”

“...I’ve devoted a lot more time to the piano.”

“i learned how to roller skate and sew.”

“i got a boy to talk to me for simply existing i didn’t do ANYTHING i’m just that good at luring boys in im THAT b*tch.”

“I lost weight.”

“You’re not going to be friends with everyone and that’s okay.”

“started going on a 2-5 mi run every morning.”

“Made a fire bacon egg n cheese”

“Built a guitar.”

“I’m learning to play the guitar!”

“I’ve read at least 20 fanfics”

So yeah. Quarantine has its ups and lows. These surveys are something I’ve learned to do over quarantine.. as well as crop all of my shirts. Thank you all my survey takers! You guys are amazing and your voices are heard!

#survey #politics #COVID19 #covid virus #2020 #corona virüsü #coronapocalypse #corona symptoms #school #quarantine #blog #news

0 notes

knightofbalance-13 · 8 years ago

Text

https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/160448959124/glitteringeva-everytime-someone-on-tumblr

Well, this is going to be interesting.

-I fail to see how adding structure would be “bashing the writers.” and frankly I’m shocked you think these ideas are so worse off.

For reference and context, this is what they said:

Everytime someone on Tumblr writes a post about how they would have fixed RWBY volume 4 or 3 or whatever I just think “Holy shit, thank god we didn’t get that, it’s way worse”.

I mean maybe some of the ideas are better than what the writers decided to do, but I didn’t stumble upon any of these in any of those posts yet.

I really hate how everyone is bashing on the writers and then claiming they could have made up a better plot in five minutes when clearly… no. You can’t.

See the problem here: The OP never mentioned a specific point of criticism so where does this talk about structure come from? Unless, he believes that everything that the rwde tag says is correct which is the only way this makes sense and in that case, I need only point out Sturgen’s Law (AKA 90% of stuff is shit) to disprove him.

As fort the structure argument itself, I have never seen anyone argue about the story structure except that more needs to be done and in that case, it ruins the purpose of Volume 4 being a breather season dedicated to character and the world, not the plot. So it actually would damage the show, especially since RWBy has a very limited amount of time.

-The ideas of those who state that season ½ should have been more focused on character establishment, and interaction then moving on to chracter growth and development. Instead of season one being mostly jaune arc , If could be shortened to 2-3 episodes and focus on more of our cast.

Again, this is out of context and shouldn’t be here on the very basis alone that they are talking about Volumes 3 and 4, not 1 and 2. And even then, there was a lot of character interaction (Ruby and Yang, Ruby and Weiss, Weiss and Blake, Yang and Blake, Ruby and Jaune, Jaune and Pyrrha, Ren and Nora and Ruby and Penny in Volume 1 with Yang and Blake, Team RWBY and Team JNPR overall interactions and Penny and Ruby in Volume 20 and if you couldn’t tell what these characters are despite the show being very direct about showing us then you may need some glasses. (Joke)

Especially since the only arguments I’ve heard around character interaction is basically waste time on more interactions between Ren, Nora and pyrrha considering how little time we get every Volume as well as the fact that Volume 4 had it’s own conflict for Ren and Nora which just causes everything to pile up.

-Nora’s outline popping out episode one.

Not a writing complaint and you people think that a head writer has the time to seek out a minimal complaint around a different department while writing for another show and mentoring someone on writing yet another show. Still not valid anyway,

-A better establishment on dust and semblance.

The suggestions I’ve heard around Sembelnce and Dust is to ask menial and worthless details that normally people let go. Especially since you yourself recommended they use Stands from JoJo when I can ask questions like “How do Stands exist out of spiritual energy? How do they manifest? Why do they manifest? How does an abstract concept like mental or spiritual energy interact with the real world? Why do non Stand users ave no ability to see Stands? ect.” and I know they’ll never be answered because they are nitpicks and unimportant, evident about how you yourself never question this.

-Rather than having a scene were they talk about faunus vaguely mention the war, say racism is bad (obviously) and tell us faunus can see in the dark, maybe the faunus WOR should go in that episode? That way it seems more like a lesson.

You yourself have advocated fro WOR to be scrapped altogether so where would that go again? Also, by getting that out of the way in Volume 1, they can go ahead and go intoi more details in Volume 4. If they didn’t then that video would be bogged down by this stuff. Plus they were in a classroom so that makes sense: they are getting a lesson as well.

-Weiss’s escape could have been much smoother if she just made glyphs and walked out the window.

Semblances cost Aura to use and thus using it like that would leave her with very little to use should she get caught, which is easy considering the fact that her father is filthy rich and has ordered his employees to not let her go. Or would you remove that limit on Semblances and thus make them OP and have the character have no reason to lose?

-Also weiss still need to apologize for her racism, and we need a better establishment of her summoning as she just kinda learns to off screen which is not how you tell a story.

Except for the fact that she was learning how to summon by WInter in Volume 3 and could have just be training to make a complete summon, sort of like how Goku would train to use a full power Kamehameha?

And she does so indirectly by agreeing to bury the hatchet with Blake. And just as well, Blake treated Weiss like she was a mindless schnee as well so shouldn’t Blake apologixe as well? And at that point, it doesn’t do much.

-Making the white fang pure antagonist was a bad idea especiallu since their the minority fighting for racial equality so many irl minorities can relate and when you make them the badguys you alienate that side of the fandom.

Except that a few minorities in the fandom have said that the White Fang aren’t offensive and it has been noted that their radicalism is a very good representation of an oppressed group going too far (like BlackLivesMatter). Also, that promotes the idea that all minority fighting groups are automatically and universally right even though that would isolate the people who have been attacked by people who have been oppressed themselves by these groups and promotes a Black and White morality.

-Ruby/penny/pyhrra’s friendships were never built up on, heck ruby and pyrrha barely spoke so losing them so soon not only makes it seem odd for ruby’s character but the audience whom have/nor weren’t given a real connection to her.

You take that out of context, ignoring the fact that she saw her sister be arrested, Penny die, Roman die, Yang maimed and THEN Pyrrha die. You act as though this doesn’t compound on a person and if you do, well stay away from depressed people.

-The grimm breach: team cfvy/jnrp come and help easily destroy grimm then glynda seals up the hole. Cinder calls this a collasal failure that doesn’t add up with the past scene.

Persuvasive speech: Cinder was sowing distrust and discord, using manipulative launguage to sway people’s hearts. Obviously seeing as she lied several other times as well.

Look rwby’s flawed and there are some genuinly great strucutual fixes to the show, throwing a hissy fit over it isn’t gonna clear the stains from thsi diamond, if you don’t agree with it fine but let’s not pretend not a single post here is worse that what I listed.

Fun Fact: Re:RWBY is still going on and is still an o0bjective failure in comparison to RWBY Volume 1. The one time someone tries to do better and they make 70% of amateur writing mistakes, more than RWBY itself did. And most of your points here either don’t apply to what the OP is saying, ignores certain aspects of the show or outright lies to be there. So yes, most RWDE posts are this way.

-I don’t have to be a master chef to tell you food shouldn’t be burnt.

And an amatuer shouldn’t act like they’re netter than the master chef as they scortch water while the master chief makes award winning meals, complains about the dish in ways that are objectively wrong and ignores all criticism themselves.

All I see here is you trying to silence someone for the apparent crime of not thinking rwde isn’t 100% right.

#rwde bullshit

2 notes · View notes