#anyway yes we all agree. correct???
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nonbinary-kaz · 3 days ago
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Okay we all agree that in the "good" universe Jayce goes on his house arrest but still meets Viktor and they go out and date and eventually end up together. and then Viktor goes on to become a professor and Jayce takes over the hammer business and also takes up making mobility aids and medical devices to help better lives (because magic is not the only way to do so.)
and they're doing pretty okay for themselves.
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lunar-years · 2 months ago
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Chappell’s thoughts on the election sound a heck of lot like many of the takes I see daily on social media in fandom spaces and leftist spaces and on my personal accounts from people I went to high school/college with etc. etc. and I actually think it’s helpful that she’s giving voice to the thoughts a lot of people are clearly having and acknowledging a fairly prominent point of view amongst a portion of young voters whilst STILL ultimately saying she’s going to vote (for Kamala!) and emphasizing the importance of local elections. Like, I personally don’t agree with her stance but many people do and many in that group are the ones going around saying they’re not voting entirely or trying to get us all to vote Jill fucking Stein. Maybe what Chappell is saying will register with some of that group? Maybe they will get out and vote for Kamala despite not agreeing with all of her policies and viewpoints? Which is…a positive thing? What am I missing here 😭
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mazojo · 1 year ago
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Maybe we consume media differently because I do it in a slay girlboss gaslight gatekeep way and you do it as a a hater
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slovo-theshattered-onion · 2 months ago
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people should start inventing their own numerologies and comparing notes. slash s r s
#slovo talks#otherwise i will not tag this because frankly what do i say#numerology#? im not insane /lie#yes yes im not insane. im just autistic which is Normal. anyway the number 4 is our lucky one atm because its everywhere and it means death#in japan or somewhere#i like death. i want to court it so when it comes for my ass again i can bat my lash all gross like and it freaks out and leaves#or fucks me. and leaves. like a bad husband#this because im deranged. i like it this way#did u know im ukrainian btw ? did u know ukraine is a meltin pot of Yikes. did u know i love this land and its people#did u know i wont stay here under threat of death. anyway even numbers are the only correct numbers an 5 is the only one that passes#the vibe check#otherwise#i like the number five. number seventeen is a funny one because it is TWO uneven numbers. the most problematic uneven numbers at that#but seven adds up to 14 which makes it kinda sexy#OH did u know imagination an creativity are muscles u can train ? thank u professor vujadinovic#i love u mr old man who is old enough to be my granfather. why are u montenegrin. u should stop#im fairly sure he doesnt have tumblr. hes Old. but hes hip with the kids on account of hes a teacher so ig we never know ! hi professor#im sorry i was Weird and Unwell and Scary. and very worrying indeed. this is because i am multiple and the multiple never fuckin agree on#NOTHING.#for fun#also im just a baby so its okay for me to be worryin actually cause im young an adaptable an will figure it out. bats lashes in Irradiated#that one is for our first ex instead of our montenegro-based prof. i think i need to sleep cause this is not numerology anymore#oh well !#bye bye#im gon be busy reviving old gods- OH MY GOD I FORGOT- yeah bye we have Business to attend to suddenly
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vaspider · 1 year ago
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While I'm writing things that I've been intending to write for a while... one of the things that I think that a lot of people who haven't been involved in like... banking or corporate shenaniganry miss about why our economy is its current flavor of total fuckery is the concept of "fiduciary duty to shareholders."
"Why does every corporation pursue endless growth?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.
"Why do corporations treat workers the way they do?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.
"Why do corporations make such bass-ackwards decisions about what's 'good for' the company?" Fiduciary duty to shareholders.
The legal purpose of a corporation with shareholders -- its only true purpose -- is the generation of revenue/returns for shareholders. Period. That's it. Anything else it does is secondary to that. Sustainability of business, treatment of workers, sustainability and quality of product, those things are functionally and legally second to generating revenue for shareholders. Again, period, end of story. There is no other function of a corporation, and all of its extensive legal privileges exist to allow it to do that.
"But Spider," you might say, "that sounds like corporations only exist in current business in order to extract as much money and value as possible from the people actually doing the work and transfer it up to the people who aren't actually doing the work!"
Yes. You are correct. Thank you for coming with me to that realization. You are incredibly smart and also attractive.
You might also say, "but Spider, is this a legal obligation? Could those running a company be held legally responsible for failing their obligations if they prioritize sustainability or quality of product or care of workers above returns for shareholders?"
Yes! They absolutely can! Isn't that terrifying? Also you look great today, you're terribly clever for thinking about these things. The board and officers of a corporation can be held legally responsible to varying degrees for failing to maximize shareholder value.
And that, my friends, is why corporations do things that don't seem to make any fucking sense, and why 'continuous growth' is valued above literally anything else: because it fucking has to be.
If you're thinking that this doesn't sound like a sustainable economic model, you're not alone. People who are much smarter than both of us, and probably nearly as attractive, have written a proposal for how to change corporate law in order to create a more sensible and sustainable economy. This is one of several proposals, and while I don't agree with all of this stuff, I think that reading it will really help people as a springboard to understanding exactly why our economy is as fucked up as it is, and why just saying 'well then don't pursue eternal growth' isn't going to work -- because right now it legally can't. We'd need to change -- and we can change -- the laws around corporate governance.
This concept of 'shareholder primacy' and the fiduciary duty to shareholders is one I had to learn when I was getting my securities licenses, and every time I see people confusedly asking why corporations try to grow grow grow in a way that only makes sense if you're a tumor, I sigh and think, 'yeah, fiduciary duty to shareholders.'
(And this is why Emet and I have refused to seek investors for NK -- we might become beholden to make decisions which maximize investor return, and that would get in the way of being able to fully support our people and our values and say the things we started this company to say.)
Anyway, you should read up on these concepts if you're not familiar. It's pretty eye-opening.
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oysterie · 9 months ago
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putting everything abt Logan Paul Ksi whoever out of the way. Blue raspberry prime is so good wow
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months ago
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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
A bread roll thwacked him in the face.
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mikkouille · 2 years ago
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like yeah I guess it's not easy for a network to keep track of 98 boys at once but maybe that's why they should reduce the contestant numbers no one cares about that many mfs + half will disappear without their names being even uttered once
#like no time to put all stages in the episodes is already one thing- represent all your candidates equally. if u cant u got too many#but to straight up not post one the stages#id like to stand corrected that the stage IS out there. please.#ill do my individual rankings tonight also the essay will be a bit late cuz the train situation hasnt bee' favourable to my intellectualism.#i saw the board with all the rankings vs star assesments know that my fave is in the bottommost tier popularity with full stars jury rate#i will say the jury is worthless unless they agree with me yes#so what im saying is either we still got the jury saving bonus girls season had and he stays another round or we lose the best guy from ep3#either way. hell on earth.#havent seen ep2 yet btw. just the full cam stages#i like watching them first to know the truth#cuz mnet rly wanted me to think the tiger inside perf was anything but a mess lmao‼️‼️‼️#they skipped haruto (is that his name's) amazing voice crack cmon. cant be trusted to truly represent stages' worth#anyway actually i cant wait to see how my ranking evolves#the rollercoaster of lyd's ranking....me seeing his fancam 'pretty good' me seing his pr vid 'one more wrong step n i kill him'#me seeing his perf yesterday barfing cuz he dances..... ah.....awful truly#well ppl can learn from their mistakes cant they....#still on thin ice but ah....he knows the underrated art of using ur core when dancing that 80% of debuted 'main dancers' seem to forget abt.
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livinginshambles · 1 year ago
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You're unbelievable (derogatory) | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: You're best friends with James, but since his new relationship with Lily, you find yourself standing on the side more often than not.
Your friendship with James breaks when he has to choose between you or Lily, and it's only after the damage is done that he realizes the consequences of his actions.
Note: Lily's kind of a not cool in this fic. Not proofread, mistakes (grammar and maybe continuity because I rewrote the middle from memory) Time lines are wrong, howarts is endless.
_______________________
“James Potter, you’re unbelievable!” You exclaimed, and if not for the widest grin ever plastered on you face, those words could hold an entirely different meaning. You gave James a tight side hug while you clutched your precious gift to your chest.
“Well, you better believe it darling,” Sirius appeared on your left. “Prongs made us stand in line for that signed copy for eight hours. EIGHT HOURS,” he complained and shook James back and forth by his shirt collar.
“And not to mention, he woke us up at 2 o’clock in the morning for that,” Peter happily reminded him, and Sirius wailed at the memory and dramatically dropped to his knees. You stumbled back and James was quick to hold you steadily.
“Oh, quit it with the theatrics,” Remus mused, and he pulled Sirius up from the floor where he had slouched his entire weight against your legs. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Sirius huffed. “For you maybe. Because you secretly wanted to get your book signed too,” he accused Remus. Remus sheepishly shrugged.
James pressed a kiss to your temple, and you melted inside. “Happy birthday, love,” he whispered with a fond smile, and you bashfully looked away.
“Thanks,” you muttered awkwardly. Godric, you despised the attention that birthdays bring along.
“On that note, I’m heading towards the library,” you excused yourself. “But thank you guys so much for getting that book for me, I love you guys so much,” you said and blew them a kiss as you stepped backwards to the door.
“Hold on,” James frowned. “We’re not celebrating?”
“Uh, no I have to work on our Potions assignment.”
“Oh. Well, let me walk you to the library, yeah?” James offered, but you had an inkling feeling that it wasn’t really a question.
You laughed and pulled a face at him. “I can’t stop you anyways, can I? You’re an absolute menace, Potter.”
“I’m just trying to spend the day together.” James wrapped an arm around you and guided you towards the door. 
“You know, the day on which the world has been blessed with your birth. And just as it was always meant to be, might I add, because look at where this led, such a perfectly beautiful day to celebrate.” He winked.
“Today is a wonderful day,” you hummed in agreement. “But you know I was supposed to be born late April, not March. So not really ‘as it was always meant to be’ at all,” you pointed out.
James rolled his eyes. “Uh, yes it was. Otherwise, we would’ve never met at the hospital and become bestest friends.”
“That’s not even correct gramm-”
“Besides, didn’t see you much today,” James unbotherdly continued.
You shook your head in amusement. “Come along then,” you pretended to relent in a joking manner. James was already pulling you along anyway.
You looked back at the rest of the marauders. “You guys also coming?”
You got an unenthusiastic hum from Peter and nothing from Remus, who was too deep in his book to have heard you. You looked at Sirius.
“Darling, I love you, but that’s six flights of stairs,” Sirius laughed, and he settled in on the sofa.
You gasped in fake horror. “So, is that the limit of your love for me?” You sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear. “I guess-, I guess that’s it then. We’re just not meant to be,” you sighed.
“I know, darling. And I’m sorry. Just know, it’s not you, it’s me,” Sirius solemnly agreed.
You opened your mouth to continue your devastating-sad-ending-love-story when James, who had felt strangely annoyed at Sirius, impatiently grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.
You enjoyed the feeling of walking hand in hand with James, even though it was short-lived. He let go of your hand as soon as he realized he was still holding it, and you two walked next to each other in a comfortable silence. Again, short-lived.
“I swear, one of these days, Lily might give me a chance. She smiled at me yesterday after supper, you know.” James happily bragged, eyes in a dreamy haze, no doubt imagining Lily.
You peered up at him and quietly admired his blissed look. It may never be directed towards you but seeing him so happy really made you glad and all warm inside.
Not that you’d ever let him know that.
Instead, you snorted at his words, tiptoed, and slung an arm across his broad shoulders. “In your dreams, maybe,” you sassed at him. James wanted to huff at your reply, but at your struggle to reach his other shoulder, he couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder instead.
“You’ve got to stop growing, James,” you protested and ducked out from under his arm.
“Quite the opposite actually, perhaps you should start,” he mocked you and you reached out to shove him but he put a step back out of the way fluently and then smoothly pulled back his shoulder just in time when you tried to shove him again. “So predictable,” he tsked. You opted to stick out your tongue instead.
“So,” James started. You hummed in reply. “Mum’s asking if you’re spending Easter with us again,” he casually mentioned.
“Oh really, Euphemia is asking me huh,” you teased him.
James looked away embarrassedly.
“Hm, not sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “Think I’m gonna be sort of preoccupied with my cousins from Ireland,” you looked at him through the corner of your eyes and caught his disappointed expression. A grin grew on your face like that of a Cheshire cat and you nudged him again.
“Oh, come on James, I’m kidding, you know. I’ve literally never not spent Easter with you. Besides, I live right across the street, James. I can literally come over any time, even if my cousins visit.”
“Yeah, but I meant like stay over at my house for the whole holiday,” James pouted. You glanced at him and smiled fondly. “Well, again; I live right across the street. So I guess I can also just go and visit my cousins at my house any time.”
You finally reached the bottom of the staircases and stopped mid-step. “Bloody hell, I forgot my books.”
You shot James a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just have to go back up real quick, but it won’t be long at all-.”
“I’m right behind you, love.”
“You can’t be serious,” you gaped at him.
James was beaming. Sirius and Remus’ jaws were slacked on the floor and Peter frowned as if he was trying to comprehend James’ statement.
“She agreed to a date!?” Sirius shrieked out. “But-,” Sirius stammered and he let his eyes fall onto you for a split second. It was very quiet for a moment while all of you processed this news.
“Well, I’ll be damned, Prongs,” you grinned up at him. “Not such a far-fetched idea after all.” You smiled encouragingly at him and he shot you a grateful look.
“Congrats,” you nudged him, and that seemed to break the rest of the marauders out of it, all congratulating and offering date ideas.
You zoned out for a moment. A bitter-sweet taste in your mouth. You we’re thrilled for James. You knew how much she meant to him. But that little piece of hope that you had unconsciously clung onto, made the news tough to take.
Regardless, you were just happy to have James in your life. He was your best friend, and you would support him, no matter what. Because you knew he’d do the same for you.
“When’s the date?” you curiously asked.
James scratched his head. “Uh, next week, Friday night.”
“Wait, Friday when you were going to take me to see the blue crescent moon?” you deadpanned.
“I’ll take you to the next one, I promise,” James solemnly swore and he put his hand on his heart.
You huffed in disappointment but quickly turned around to face Remus with a sweet smile. “Remus, my best friend,” you started, and instantly got pulled back by James who wore a pout on his face.
“Wait, it was supposed to be a you and me thing,” he whined while he tugged you back into his side. You stuck your tongue out and ruffled his hair.
“You’re busy, and the next blue moon is going to be a full moon, so we’ll be with Remus,” you pointed out. “And after that, it’ll be another two years until the next.” Then you skipped back over to Remus.
James hummed in thought. He knew you were right. “Fine,” he reluctantly said. “But I’m taking you to watch the passing comet next month,” he bargained.
You stuck out your hand with a laugh. “Deal,” you grinned.
“It’s a promise,” James confirmed.
It became clear to you that you might have overestimated your own importance to James after he and Lily officially started dating.
Your eyes were searching for James, and you decided to confront him when you spotted him.
“James!” You ran to catch up to him. You smiled at Lily with a small wave. “Lily,” you acknowledged her. “Can I borrow him for a moment?” You asked her. She shrugged and waved her hand in a discarding manner, “of course.”
“Hey uh, you didn’t show up yesterday, just checking in?” you asked James in concern when Lily was out of reach.
James mind blanked for a moment. He was racking his brain about ‘yesterday’ and his eyes grew wide when realization hit him. “Bloody hell, I completely forgot!” He exclaimed.
“Yeah,” you laughed, relieved that he was alright and had just forgotten about it.
“Well you didn’t show up in the astronomy tower so I tried looking for you, but I couldn’t find you. I asked Sirius for the map, but can you believe it? He said he’d lost it.”
You chuckled when you recalled his apologetic expression and completely missed the way James shut his eyes and pinched his nose in guilt.
“I’m so sorry,” James said. He pulled you into a hug.
“Eh, don’t worry about it, Sirius joined me to watch the comet pass by. Wasn’t that impressive, but it did look like a falling star so I guess I made a wish, and-”
“Can have him back now?” Lily’s voice came from behind him, and he quickly released you. “Yeah, of course,” you rushed to say, but she had already grabbed him by the arm and led him away.
James looked back at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’ at you. You shook your head dismissively and raised your thumbs up.
It was only during the next missed hangout, two weeks later, that you found out he forgot because he’d been with Lily instead.
Peter had seen you off to find James, and had watched you return three hours later, a sad look on your face.
“Not again,” he’d groaned and slipped up. You couldn’t be angry at James because you realized that he was just putting effort into his new relationship. Peter had hugged you and you two had spent the evening sneaking into the art room to paint each other.
Peter was surprisingly a splendid artist and you had put the painting that he painted of yourself against the wall on the floor next to your bed, and gave Peter the one you painted of him.
“Damn, Peter,” James nodded at the canvas. “You painted that?”
“Huh? Oh,” Peter was getting dressed and pulled his sweater over his head. He looked from the painting to James. “Uh, Y/N did,” he beamed. “It looks good right?”
“You guys painted..?”
“Yeah, cause you didn’t show up again yesterday,” Peter casually mentioned. “You know, she was-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because James had already sprinted out of the room to find you to apologize.
But as usual, James thought it had to be a grand gesture.
Flowers! Lily liked flowers. Girls like flowers, perfect. The idea popped up in his head, and he went to work to cover your entire dorm and bed with flowers.
It seemed like a perfect idea.
Until it evidently wasn’t. 
“Shit, I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind,” James apologized for the thousandth time as he sat by at the side of the hospital bed with the rest of the marauders. They shared a look with each other.
“Well, I bet you’ll never forget about my severe flower allergy ever again now,” you joked in attempt to console him. Your face was swollen and your eyes were bloodshot.
You smiled at James and tried to push back the hurt you felt at the fact that he forgot about something as important as that.
“I’ll make it up to you,” James quickly promised with a grimace.
“Do you get that same sense of déjà vu or is it just me,” Sirius remarked from the other side of the bed.
“No, I get it too,” Peter agreed almost too quickly.
James frowned at his friends for the little jab. They knew he didn’t do it on purpose right? He looked at Remus for support.
“Better be one hell of an idea,” was all he said.
“Oh come on,” you attempted to kick Sirius weakly with your leg but failed because your legs were still half paralyzed.
“Stop giving him such a hard time,” you started. James shot you a relieved look.
“He’s already feeling shit for almost killing me,” you grinned and James groaned and dropped his head on the side of your bed. You moved your arm with some effort and let your fingers stroke through his hair.
“I’ll be the best best-friend there is, starting from right now. I’ve got so many ideas for Easter holiday and it includes your favorite chocolate,” he promised in a muffled voice.
 
Whatever you imagined his ideas for activities during the Easter holiday included, it wasn’t with Lily in the picture. Yet here you were, sitting across of her at the dinner table.
They were both deeply engrossed in each other and you and Fleamont shared a look.
“How’s your year been, sweetheart?” Fleamont asked and he looked at you over his glasses. You smiled at him, relieved.
“It was great so far, I mean, despite being bedridden for two weeks, but the guys have been great,” you jumped to talk about your adventures.
“I went to watch the blue crescent moon with Remus, and the comet with Sirius. And I’ve painted with Peter! I’ve got to say, he’s painted me in a flattering light,” you rambled on passionately.
“Oh, and we’ve started a study group thing together, it’s basically just Remus and I trying to help Sirius and Peter though,” you lightheartedly joked.
“We’ve played some harmless pranks too, like turning every toad into a cat and every cat into a toad, it was utter chaos!” You shared and at his disapproving look and focus on James, you quickly intervened. “Don’t worry, James didn’t do anything, he’s been good,” you joked.
You missed Fleamont’s raised eyebrows.
“I’ve been swimming in the lake with the boys and pranked Remus and Peter with Sirius and pretended to be merpeople, you should’ve heard their screams!”
Your eyes were gleaming at this point as you relived your happiest moments so far. “Well, until Remus cast a spell on Sirius that turned him into a slug of course.”
“So when the four of us went to Hogsmeade…” You continued to ramble on and failed to notice how James’ eyes subconsciously trailed over to you every now and then, listening in on the conversation and realizing his name never fell once.
Lily noticed his divided attention and was unsurprisingly and rather justifiably annoyed at James.
She voiced out her concerns to James that very night during which you had excused yourself and gone home across the street.
You didn’t want to third wheel and Godric forbid should you share a room with Lily.  She hated your guts as it was and you didn’t feel like being smothered in your sleep.
When you had offered to go back home, you had sort of hoped he would say something along the lines of “No, please stay” and instead were met with a “Yeah, that’s probably for the best”.
And now, all he could wish for was chilling on his bed with you next to him while he was being chastised by Lily. His eyes glanced up and he stared at the enchanted bedroom ceiling full of stars, Lily’s voice long gone from his mind.
“Are you even listening to me?” She waved her hand in front of his face and he fought the urge to pull an annoyed face at her.
At his lack of response though, she repeated herself. “I’m your girlfriend. I thought you wanted this?”
James let her words sink in for a moment. She was all he ever wanted. And it was so so different from what he’d imagined it would be like.
Of course, he wasn’t planning on breaking up or anything, he didn’t want to be that douchebag that was only in it for the chase after all. And he hoped somehow that those feelings would return sometime.
She was everything he wanted. He just wished she’d be more interested in his friends, less disapproving of his pranks, or more proud of his achievements at Quidditch.
He would appreciate it if she were just a little bit more patient with him, and shared a little bit of his humour.
He just wanted her to be more open and enthusiastic about their relationship and himself.
He wanted her to be a little more like you-
He reeled back from that revelation. Oh.
Oh no. That would ruin his friendship.
“-and you know what, you can’t have both, James,” Lily continued and he snapped out of his thoughts.
“I can’t be your girlfriend if she’s in the picture. So choose. It’s me or her.”
James stared at her in surprise and then walked out of his room without another word to her.
He looked out the window at the real starry night sky. It seemed to him that he’d lose you regardless. But maybe, he’d be happy with Lily. She was all that matters, he convinced himself.
“Don’t you see how wrong it is that she’s making you choose,” you asked him incredulously, but your eyes looked at him pleadingly. James forced himself to look back at you and shook his head.
“No, she’s-, she’s right,” he mumbled, and you staggered back at that. “I mean, you’re a girl, you know?” You raised your eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. “Astute observation.” You dryly remarked.
“And everyone assumes things about us, so please, you have to understand that this isn’t fun for Lily either,” James tried. “I just can’t be friends with you and be in a relationship with Lily at the same time.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.
“I can’t,” he urged. “And between you or her, I choose her. She’s my girlfriend,” he reasoned.
“And I’m your best friend since we were born,” you stubbornly retorted.
James looked at you beggingly, hoping that you’ll understand his predicament and that you’d make it easy on him. At the squint of your eyes and the deepening frown on your face, he gulped. “Please. I’m really sorry, but I have to choose her,” he finished weakly, doubling down on his decision.
Realizing that he wasn’t joking, it felt like he might as well have punched you in the gut. Your stubborn look flickered to hurt and then morphed into an ice-cold front of indifference.
You took a deep breath and collected yourself. You stared at him up and down, not recognizing your best friend in him anymore.
“You’re unbelievable,” you shook your head at him, and your voice was devoid of any emotion. With no other words to address the situation, you pushed past him roughly.
Months passed by and the summer vacation started. Then it ended and Hogwarts began again. All without a word from James. He had stopped spending much time with the marauders, mostly busy with walking after Lily.
Sometimes he would glance at you when she wasn’t watching, and he’d feel so lonely.
He waited for you during the vacation, but you never went to yourr house across his. Instead you spent your time with your cousins in Ireland.
When he made his way towards the platform on September 1st,  he felt weird. First of all, he was slightly reluctant to go. He realized that he had thoroughly enjoyed his holiday without Lily.
But secondly, and perhaps most importantly; This was the first time ever that he went to the Hogwarts Express by himself, without you by his side, and an epiphany cleared his mind. Everything was so wrong.
 
You eyed him up and down. With lack of better words, he looked terrible. So terrible, that you might’ve pitied him any other time, because how could you ever be angry at James, when he looked so sad.
When his eyes are glassy and red. When his hair is disheveled as a result of an undoubtedly rough night. When his voice cracked at his sloppy apology. Or when his lips trembled almost unnoticeably when you said no.
But all of that wouldn’t magically clear away your own misery of the past months.
“I was supposed to be your best friend,” you enunciated slowly. “It’s always been you and me. Merlin, we’ve known each other since we were born and they ran out of baby cribs at St. Mungo’s, so they put us together in one!” you exclaimed.
You bitterly scoffed to yourself at the reminder of your literal lifelong friendship.
“But you cut me off for a relationship with Lily? Lily who rejected you for years and when she finally did agree to date you, never even gave you the time of the day?”
You stared at him incredulously and had to remind yourself to tone down your voice a little. You had unconsciously been raising it and didn’t want to attract unwanted attention.
“You followed her around like a lost puppy and cast me aside because she didn’t trust you for being friends with a girl and you were so easy to discard me,” you laughed humorlessly, trying to mask your hurt feelings. “I guess I must’ve really not meant all that much to you.”
To James’ credit, he at least had the decency of looking remorseful. His own words were replaying on a loop in his head. Of course he regretted it all.
“You can’t come back after that and expect me to just open my arms for you,” you firmly stated.
James looked at you helplessly, and you let out another laugh in disbelief. “Oh, Godric, you did,” you stared at him with wide eyes in surprise.
James could feel himself getting flustered and spoke up again. “I just thought that maybe-,”
“No, no, no. Like I said, I’m not doing this again.”
“Please, lov-, Y/N please, if you would just let me prove to you that you do mean so much to me,” His voice was getting increasingly more desperate. “I just want-, I need you to give me a second chanc-”
“A second chance? James, you are way past that. You’ve already had a second chance,” you bitterly told him. “Merlin, I’ve given you a second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth chance. I would’ve given you a thousand chances, but even that, you threw away.”
You tiredly rubbed your face. “I have nothing left to give you.”
Your words hit him in the face and his chest tightened.
“Oh… No, I-, I definitely understand.” His voice came out quietly.
James wanted to hide away. He felt utterly pathetic and ashamed at his own actions.
“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone, then.” He turned around but stopped mid step.
“But Y/N? If you ever change your mind, or if you ever need me, I’ll be there for you this time. Always right behind you.” James let his eyes linger on your face for a moment, taking you in. Merlin, he really missed you.
Your mind struggled to find the words to properly articulate all that you’ve felt these past months.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For not trying to fight for you more,” you sympathetically offered.
“Oh, what? No, that’s-, it really was all my own fault. I chose her over you, and it was stupid. I was stupid, not you.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I should’ve tried harder to find a solution. I regret it too, you know, that we lost us.”
James frowned at your words.
“You-, I don’t even-,” you sighed. “I thought we would be in it for life, you know,” you eventually confessed, and James eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if he understood that completely, but his heart had made a small jump at your confession. Surely you didn’t actually mean…?
“Maybe not side by side as lovers or anything,” you quickly tried to cover yourself, but instead confirmed James’ thoughts. “But I was so sure we’d be partners nonetheless.” James watched you smile fondly, but sadly at the thought.
“I tried so hard not to be jealous of the fact that I was no longer the first person you’d go to for everything.” You chewed on your lower lip and James forced himself to pry his eyes away from it.
“You could be again,” James whispered to himself. But it was loud enough for you to hear it. You chose to ignore it and the way your heart tugged.
“But it was never an issue of jealousy when you actively forgot me on so many different occasions and then just kicked me out for her.”
“I'm sorry, I don’t know why I… how I even…”
“Look, I have to go,” you settled on, and nodded awkwardly at him. “But thanks for apologizing,” you added before you left.
You’d gone about your life according to the same routine of the past few months and paid James little to no mind. Though he was spending all of his time with the marauders again, you somehow found a way of disappearing right when he would arrive.
Days passed and James watched you laugh at the punchline of the joke that a ghost had told you. So close and yet so far.
James knew that you told him no when he had asked if things could go back to the way they were, but he couldn’t give up on you. It was as if something was physically stopping him from doing so.
He wanted you to see him again, but would never cross your boundaries, which left him in a difficult position.
The first opportunity presented itself when he overheard some guy talk shit about you. Except he only saw red instead of an opportunity. Because how dare they.
“She’ll give in someday. I’ll show her how to have a good time. Godric knows she’s too prudish, wouldn’t even let me-“
James surged forward before he could even think and grabbed the guy by the collar, his wand was pointed at the boy’s throat in a matter of seconds, a piercing glare on his face as he gritted through his teeth.
“Don’t.” It was a warning and the boy heeded it and scrambled away when James released him.
“What are you looking at,” he called out to the students that had stopped to watch what was happening. They too, quickly scrambled away, pretending they hadn’t seen a thing.
But by supper, everyone had heard about it, including you. You looked at him from further down the table and nodded at him with a appreciated smile.
James heart skipped a beat and he dreamed of you that night.
So what else could he do for you that would make you happy, he wondered while he wandered around the castle. The marauders were hanging out with you right now, leaving James to his own devices.
“Books!” He yelled out loud and it startled a cat. “Signed books had been successful, right? But what books, and how to…” He muttered to himself.
You stared at the pile of books that started to form next to you while owls flew in and back out again, only to return with more books. When you opened the one on the pile to your left, you saw that it was signed by one of your favorite authors.
Your eyes grew wide and you quickly inspected the signature from up close. Your hands stroked the beautiful hard back cover of the book. First copy.
People all over the great hall were looking at the spectacle  but you just laughed and blew a kiss at the last owl.
You glanced at James because you knew it was him who orchestrated all of this. Only he would know all your favorite authors and books.
James simply offered you a smile and continued eating his food, but he was absolutely beaming inside at the gleeful look on your face.
You visited him in his dorms that night. “James,” you whispered. You held your finger to your lips as a sign not to wake the others.
“James, thank you for the books, they’re amazing,” you told him. “But James, you’ve got to stop. Don’t fight on my behalf. Don’t spend so much money on me. Please “ you begged him.
James’ smile fell. “I made you uncomfortable,“ he noted. You sighed and sat down on his bed. “I used to give you gifts all the time,” he weakly defended himself.
“I don’t want to forgive you,” you started. James looked down.
“You hurt me. Do you get that? You hurt me and broke our friendship and I don’t know when I’ll want to be friends again, but it’ll never the same when I do. So you have to stop doing all of this. You can’t try to buy it with gifts and heroic deeds.”
“I don’t want it to be the same either,” James sighed out in a defeated tone. “I just need you with me. One way or another. I’m not trying to buy anything, I just want to make you happy.”
You understood his words and the implied confession behind them. After all, you had felt the exact same way months ago.
You sadly smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. James closed his eyes at the contact and tried to savor the moment. You really were his greatest regret.
“I don’t want to forgive you,” you stubbornly repeated.
“You don’t have to. I just want to be there.”
“Right behind me, right? No matter what pace?”
“Of course,” he replied.
It took time. Months and months actually, where he respected your boundaries and slowly inserted himself back into your life, with your permission of course.
At first simply joining you with the marauders again. Then thoughtful actions such as giving you his spare quill. Later on even sitting next to you during Transfiguration and building up to study nights and eventually back to star gazing.
However slow it was, everything was worth it, James thought to himself as he opened the door to invite you in for the Easter holiday.
“Hi, thank you for coming over,” he widely smiled.
“Ah you know, I live right across the street, love.”
 
Taglist: Only 50 first people, rest in comments.
@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @loudflowerss @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @laraoverthinks @starsanddream @btsw1fe @larahatesbeinghere @kquil @moonys-luvr @consumingwaters @mindflay3r @magpiesworld
@my-beloved-fandoms @dreamsygirl @papichulo120627 @nokkoongie @sbrewer21 @helloitsmeeeeeee @magical-spit @clumsyassbitch
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so-much-for-the-seashells · 4 months ago
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The Fun Kind of Sparring
Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader
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Minors do ¡NOT! interact. This is not for you.
A/N: I haven’t seen the Boys and won’t BUTT that finale, amirite??? So in honor of the glorious return of Jensen Ackles, maybe the finest man who’s ever existed- seriously, when the aliens invade, show them him and they’ll be besotted by his beauty- I wrote this for all y’all SB lovers. Just note that I do not endorse any of this man’s actions, and if you do… the fuck?
I think it goes without saying but this is not my picture, it belongs to EW. (Too tired to make icons 💪)
Anyways, icons by me and all interaction-especially commentary- is appreciated!
Content/Content Warning: straight filth. The mouth on this man is crazy. Diddle that skittle.
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It really had just been sparring. A little one on one, if you will. Me and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy and me.
If it were anyone else, being pinned down to the ground would be the opposite of erotic. It would be annoying, and I’d be flailing around, trying to hit my partner in the balls.
But with Soldier Boy? We’d been skirting around each other since The Boys broke him out. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been skirting around him, he’s made it more than a little obvious that he’s into me. I don’t know if it’s that he just wants a quick lay or what, but because I’m unfortunately attracted to him, I don’t really care.
Especially right now, when I’m pinned under him on the gym mat.
“Y’know, we shouldn’t do this,” I stall, no meaning behind my words.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he humors me. His lips are mere inches away from mine, his hair falling against my forehead. And I think I’m drunk on the scent of his pungent aftershave.
“I mean, you’re like, what, 103?” I ponder aloud, trying to distract myself from the fact that the Soldier Boy is rested over me in a plank, shirtless. That I can feel his warm breath on my face. That it smells like peppermints.
“104, actually, sweets,” he corrects. He’s had this shot-eating grin plastered on his face since he managed to wrestle me down, because like me, he knows exactly how this is going to end. But unlike me, he’s not remotely hesitant about showing it. And because he’s a jerk, he’s making me make the first move. But I’m not ready quite yet.
“104, right,” I mutter. “Older than my grandpa.”
“Smart girl,” he just goes along with everything I’m saying, letting me stall. The mischievous glint in his emerald colored eyes never ceases.
I nod slowly. “You are a very attractive grandpa,” I state, my tone far away as if I’m talking about him while he isn’t on top of me. Ohhh do I want him on top. You know what I mean.
“Thanks, sugar. But I think I’d prefer ‘Daddy’ if we’re going for the titles,” he says cheekily, still making no moves. I on the other hand am blushing the brightest red. Between the nicknames and Daddy, it’s too much to handle.
“O-oh,” I stutter, swallowing thickly. “Noted. But, uh, aren’t you more into… more mature women?”
“I believe all women are mature. I don’t discriminate, sweets,” he says, his shit-eating grin somehow eating more shit.
“Very feminist of you,” I say sarcastically.
“Damn straight,” he agrees.
I bite my lower lip. “You’re very experienced, right?”
“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but yes, I’d say so,” I can tell that he can tell that I can tell that this is volatile, just moments from going somewhere.
“Okay, so I guess my last question is this: how would you go about it. Y’know? With someone that you hypothetically wouldn’t treat as someone you paid for? That you’re sort of friends with?” I have to know. I’m too nervous for him not to lay it out plain and simple for me, I need to mentally prepare myself.
“Well, firstly, I think I’d have to know my girl likes it,” he gives me a pointed look.
“Your hypothetical girl,” I correct.
“Sure, my hypothetical girl,” he agrees. How has he not broken a single sweat this entire time? He’s been in a plank over me for the last however long it’s been and it doesn’t even affect him??
Quit getting distracted.
“Maybe she likes it rough. She wants to feel it for a few days,” I suggest, feeling my stomach knot at the notion. I’d been consistently growing wetter since he put me under him, and my arousal shows no signs of stopping.
“Okay, so I’d give it to her rough. Work her up until she’s begging for it… maybe I’ll- I mean, I’d- use my mouth first, taste her pretty pussy before I get my dick wet.” It’s all I can do not to moan at the dirty words falling out of his plush lips. Not to mention his honeyed transatlantic 50s accent… I’m so fucked. In so many ways. “Probably get her to come at least once, cause I’m sure she tastes as sweet as she looks.”
“Uh huh,” I mumble, the sound coming out higher than it should as I look at him with wide, attentive eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, even before then I’d be marking her up and down. So that way everyone can see who made her feel so good, who got her walking so funny,” he backtracks. And again, the notion is far too good to be true. But the promise in his voice? It’s real. “I’d have to get her ready for my cock, stretch her out with my fingers. Start with one, but she’d be so wet that that wouldn’t even do anything. She’d be begging for more if I just did two, so I’ll give her three, make that needy cunt happy,” he muses. And it’s so, so erotic. And I’m ready to just lean up and kiss him, make him do all the things he says. But I’m captivated by his words, his narration- I think I could come from it alone. “I don’t know if I’d let her come again then. Because I think she’d be begging for my dick with how good my fingers feel stuffed in her tight pussy.”
Mother. Fucking. Hell. Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t be real. These words should be banned from his vocabulary, because I am on fire right now.
“Where do you think this hypothetical girl would want me to come?” he asks out of curiosity, smirking. Probably at the way I’m looking at him like a bitch in heat.
“In her,” I mumble.
“In her where?” he asks smugly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it.
“Ben,” I whine in protest.
“Oh, c’mon, tell me,” he chides. “For the sake of the story.”
“In my-her-pussy,” I answer in a breathy whisper.
“Good girl,” he praises, and it’s all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there’s no way. “Well, what I’d do next… that’s simple. I’d fuck her until she cried, and then I’d keep going. And I’d keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she’s gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me,” he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. And yet- he’s still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.
“O-okay,” I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. “And if that hypothetical girl was me?” We both know it’s me, I just need to hear it.
“Well in that case I think I’d be the luckiest bastard who ever lived,” he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That’s it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.
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In the meantime… want more Soldier Boy?? Try Taming The Supe <3
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tanadrin · 29 days ago
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Ok this might be a strange ask, but. do you have any opinions on the marxist/leninist/whatever idea that, western capitalist states supply a welfare state and higher wages (and so on) for western workers through imperialism, in order to subdue class struggle in western states, so that the western proletariat basically has a hand in imperialism (that anti-imperialism in practice would materially harm the western proletariat)
i think that's wrong. i think it sounds like a way you can rationalize political disengagement in a both-sidesist kinda way and also accelerationism if you're into that; i think that kind of nebulously conspiratorial belief is also a way to sort of rationalize the red-brown alliance, the need to punish the bad sheep people who don't agree with you, and a way to discount anybody who uses actual substantive policy achievements as a way to point out that actually, yes, engaging with politics can produce positive outcomes.
it is factually incorrect, of course. there's no causal connection between the welfare state and capitalist imperialism. capitalist imperialism in the form that hardcore marxists are thinking of is kind of an anachronism anyway. much like "liberalism," they're using a lens of analysis which basically thinks history ended in 1917, that the systems and politics of the long 19th century have continued forever, and we have to sort everything into categories that are a century old even though the world has changed radically since then.
it is also, annoyingly, a rejection of the wins of leftism. leftism has done a lot of good in the world! i think leftism is directionally correct. many of the things we take for granted now in many wealthy countries--the 40-hour workweek, legal protection for unions and labor organizing, universal healthcare (outside the US of course), the existence of welfare programs in various forms, employee protections (weak in the US except for Montana; strong in many other countries), and, you know, the decolonization of most of the planet--these are all things leftists of various stripes fought and died for, and for good reason!
the reason "leftism" is weak--and of course by "leftism" people taking this position usually only mean their own particular flavor of revolutionary leftism, with everybody else being a scumbag liberal or a revisionist or a trotskyist sabateur or w/e--is because leftism keeps winning when it allies with aligned interests in an electoral context. that is to say, pragmatic progressive politics is historically quite effective (the thing Americans have historically called "liberalism" but which in international political language is closer to "social democracy," and is not Reaganism/Thatcherism), is quite willing to ally with people who share its goals including less self-defeating leftists, and continues to make new gains. see this page. there is no telos to history of course, and it's a constant struggle. but the revolution-only remnant needs to come up with a narrative to rationalize being left out in the cold, because without that rationalization their whole approach starts to come under indictment. so it can't be that their politics is ineffective--it's the sheeple bribed into shutting up by welfare!
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ivoovu · 9 months ago
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*cough*
Mic Tap
A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:
Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.
And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course
🤍🍪
1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"
We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:
"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)
or:
"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.
(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")
I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.
If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.
🍙⌛️
2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:
English: "My perfect Partner."
-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever
If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."
-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.
The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."
-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.
There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.
Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:
English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."
German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."
This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.
🐰🧳
My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.
We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.
I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/
But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.
🐚🪵
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stevieschrodinger · 4 days ago
Text
Part One Thirty
Couple of things - I've been going through it lately and just wanted to get this bit out. I do have more planned but I need a break after this. The Carpenters song referenced is 'all you get from love is a love song' and if you don't know it you can give it a listen and then you'll get the 'broken arm' joke.
They squish together into the phone booth, Steve hitting the numbers almost on reflex now, going through the motions of briefly speaking to Robin’s mom.
He angles the receiver so that Eddie can hear too, their cheeks practically touching, “Steve! Chrissy’s here-”
“Why?” Eddie cuts her off immediately, “not time to close the shop,” he almost sounds a little critical when he says it, making Steve smile.
“I know I know,” Chrissy says, “but he came back!”
“So we waited for him to leave, and we followed him,” Robin adds enthusiastically.
If Steve couldn’t hear for himself that they’re both at Robin’s place, and they’re both absolutely fine, he’d be panicking now, maybe he kind of is, because he’s sort of snippy when he says, “Robin what the fuck, it’s not safe, you two aren’t- you’re not Cagney and Lacy for fucks sake.”
“Steve it’s fine,” Chrissy tells him, “he went to Starcourt, so we went home and called Hopper right away.”
“Good,” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, “okay, so what now?”
“We don’t know,” Robin admits, “we’re just waiting to hear now. See what happens?”
“Okay we could...Eddie, you want to kill some time in town, and we can call again later?”
“Yeah” Eddie pulls back his sleeve to check his princess watch, “...lunch. And shopping?”
“Sure thing baby.”
Chrissy squeaks down the phone, “oh you’re both just too cute together.”
“Oh my god don’t encourage them.”
“Oh!” Chissy starts, “I met El and all the rest of the kids, isn’t she just, so cool? She made some pens float around!”
“El is the fewest bad kid. She’s quiet,” Eddie agrees, but Steve is absolutely certain Eddie’s warmed to the kids a lot over the last couple of months, so he knows Eddie doesn’t really mean it like that.
“Least,” Steve corrects softly, “she’s the least bad. Probably.”
“Best of a bad bunch?” Robin hazards.
“Maybe,” Eddie tells her, “we can come home soon?”
“Errrr…I mean, see what Hopper says, I guess? We might know later, but you guys shouldn’t come back today anyway, it’s a few hours drive, and you’ll need to pack up and everything, right?”
Steve frowns, as Eddie, very briefly, looks sad, “maybe tomorrow,” he says to Eddie more than the girls, “is that okay?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I...like the flower shop?”
“You miss it?”
“Yes, and Chrissy. Miss them. I know they’re not gone but...they’re not here.”
“Oh Eddie honey, I miss you too, okay? And when you get back you can come into work, there’s stuff to catch up on,” she whispers then, “Robin isn’t good with the flowers like you.”
“Hey! I’m trying my best here-” but she gives up, everyone else laughing over her.
The payphone starts to beep, “we’ll call later okay!”
Steve’s pretty sure Eddie’s jar will be empty again after today. He’s bought four more records, more Led Zeppelin, plus a Dio record because ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was playing when they walked in and Eddie really liked it. Steve absolutely certain that the girl with a green Mohawk wearing a Dio shirt sealed the deal, but he's not going to tease Eddie about it.
Eddie comes out of the changing room of the second hand clothes store, showing Steve the jeans he’s trying on. He’s been making do all this time with Steve’s draw string sweats and jeans with a very cinched in belt, so it’s definitely time for Eddie to choose his own things but...Steve wasn’t expecting Eddie to choose anything quite so tight.
“Stevie? What do you think?”
Steve swallows thickly before he answers, he swears Eddie’s only getting away with wearing them because his dicks on the inside, the thing would get strangled otherwise, “you look really good Eds. You like those ones?”
“Yes. Black, like my tail. And look,” Eddie scratches at the ripped fabric, his knees on display, “see my knees. I like to see them, they’re new.”
Steve bites his lips briefly to suppress the chuckle, “you should definitely be proud of those knees, you did grow them yourself.”
Steve frowns at the sight of Eddie in a leather jacket; it’s so very far removed from everything he’s been wearing. It’s so different from all of Steve’s clothes, but Steve can’t deny he’s making it work. It definitely suits the look Eddie’s starting to cultivate. He’s very much leaning towards darker colors, and he was really pleased when he turned up a Led Zeppelin tee shirt out of a pile.
The difference between the Eddie that comes out of the dressing room and the Eddie that went in is startling, Steve’s pullovers and polos all tend to be lighter colors, so all the black is very different.
“You like it?”
“I mean, as long as you like it, sure, you’re the one who has to wear it. But yeah, yeah I do like it. You look good.”
Steve has to stand by while Eddie rummages across a tray of cheap jewellery, “they’ll turn your fingers green,” he warns vaguely. Eddie shrugs, probably not understanding what Steve means as he tries things on, he likes the shiny silver ones that definitely are not silver, “you’re such a magpie.”
Eddie chooses two chunky rings that are so cheap he will get change from his last five dollars, but he clearly likes how they look on his fingers; he doesn’t even take them off to pay for them. Steve knows he’s just here to hold the bags, but he doesn’t mind. Eddie’s worked hard for this money, he should spend it on the things he wants.
Steve meanders through the store, it’s mostly second hand furniture and ‘antiques’, but Steve figures that term is being used very, very loosely. As near as Steve can tell it mostly looks like house clearances and that sort of thing. He spends a little while at the glass cabinets, staring at all the little figurines. 'Dust gatherers,' his dad calls them. There’s some tiny little jade ones, big tall porcelain ones and everything in between.
He’s distracted away from them by the sound of twanging. Bad, uneven twanging on an acoustic guitar. Steve follows the sound, finding Eddie just fiddling with the strings, the guitar still lying on it’s back. It doesn’t have a case, and looks pretty beat to hell to Steve, covered in stickers and all scratched up, but Eddie is entertained by the noises, and he looks up, smiling, “you going to buy it?”
Eddie shakes his head, “not enough left.”
“How much are you short?”
Eddie checks his pocket, and then the little label hanging from the neck, “six dollars?” he hazards.
“Okay, well, I’ve got four left on me, so maybe you can haggle the guy down.”
“I’ll try,” Eddie grins big, taking the change from Steve.
They’ve dropped everything off at the car and, with nothing left to do to kill any more time, they head back to the phone and smush into the booth together.
“He wasn’t there when Hopper got there,” Robin tells them, and Steve sighs, disappointed, “but! El looked into my head real quick, and she says he’s called Doctor Owens. She knew who he was, and she says he’s...nice.”
“Nice,” Steve repeats, deadpan, “a man who facilitated experiments on little kids. Nice.”
“Well...I mean maybe as nice as he could be given the circumstances. I got the impression he never...he wasn’t cruel about it. If you know what I mean.”
“I guess,” Steve hazards, “Eddie?”
Next to him, Eddie’s kind of staring into space, frowning, “Owens. Yes. Remember that word, maybe?”
“Okay. Okay, so what are they doing now Robs?”
“Well, Hoppers keeping an eye out and he’s going to try the Motel right now, but if he’s not there he’s going to start doing drive bys of Starcourt and stuff, and hopefully he turns up,” Steve can hear in her voice that she's shrugging, “but Hopper says since no one else is asking any questions, he’s hopeful that it’s just this guy working alone, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah okay.”
Eddie listens to his new record while Steve makes dinner. He has his guitar over his lap, and occasionally plays a note or two. He understood the mechanics of it already, but Steve figures he must have seen someone with a guitar on TV at some point.
Steve’s absorbed in what he’s doing, and doesn’t notice at first that the twanging noises have stopped. The record ends, but it feels like it’s been a long time of quiet, and Steve looks over to find Eddie, expecting him to be flipping it.
He isn’t.
Steve turns off the stove, covering the two pots he’s been carefully nursing. Eddie isn’t in the cabin; Steve finds him on the dock. He’s just...standing there, in the near dark. Just...staring out across the lake.
“Eddie? You okay?”
Eddie looks around again, “heard something. Had to check it’s safe.”
“You could have said,” Steve comes up close, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turns in reflexively, looking for a quick, soft kiss, which Steve is happy to give.
“Think the trees look like The Upside Down.”
“Do you?” Steve looks around; all the trees have leaves on, they’re dense and alive and nothing like the dead twisted things that litter The Upside Down, “I don’t think they do.”
Wind moves through the trees, the susurration of leaves is kind of loud, “sounds like bats. Many many bats,” Eddie shifts closer, pressing himself against Steve.
“You okay?”
“I don’t...I think I don’t like it here.”
“Oh...well,” Steve makes a decision, “since they’re pretty sure it’s just the Owens guy, how about we go home tomorrow? I mean, you might not be able to go to work and stuff until they find him-”
“Yes. Home tomorrow.”
Steve looks around again, tries to see it through Eddie’s eyes. Tries to see what reminds him so much of The Upside Down. Maybe the panic attack in the shower knocked some stuff loose; Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s been making do with strip washing from the bathroom sink the last couple of nights, and that’s been fine but not ideal. Eddie’s hair needs a wash.
“Okay, we’ll call when we go through town, okay, let them know?”
“Yes...take my book back.”
“You finished it?”
“Almost.”
“Lets go inside, I can finish dinner and you can tell me what it’s about?”
“So they’re...stealing treasure from a dragon?” Eddie nods, his mouth full of dinner. “Okay, fair enough.”
Eddie swallows, “I want to read The Lord of The Rings.”
“Okay, I’m sure we can get it at the library.”
“You promise dragons aren’t real?”
“Yup. Definitely not real, and there’s no hobbits or wizards or- or elves or any of that stuff. And magic isn’t real- well. That kind of magic isn’t real, at least,” Eddie frowns like the book committed a crime.
“But...dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were definitely real, you have those in your book?”
“Yes...dragons can fly though. And breathe fire.”
“Well...some dinosaurs could fly, and they were big like a dragon, some of them.”
“Really?” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I thought from my book like...cow sized?”
“Hu uh,” Eddie excitement is actually palpable, “definitely a dinosaur book next, some of them were like...as tall as trees,” Steve doesn’t actually know, he was most definitely not a dinosaur kid, but he’s pretty sure at least some of them were tall like that.
“All the time, used to do this. When I had a tail,” Eddie’s voice is muffled where he’s bent over the kitchen sink.
“Yeah...I guess I did,” and it’s true, Steve was washing Eddie’s hair pretty much every other day when Eddie still had a tail. He feels the back of Eddie’s head almost reflexively at the memory, following the ghostly, barely there ridges with his fingers through the suds, “it’s getting so long again already.”
“Good. El said Max makes nice braids when it’s long enough.”
Steve snorts a laugh, “oh yeah? That’s going to look great, now eyes and mouth closed, I’m gonna’ rinse.”
Eddie has his head resting on Steve’s tummy while Steve plays with his hair, hand buried in his curls, massaging his scalp, “what you doing baby?”
“Hear.”
“Hear? Oh what, you’re listening?”
“Listening to Stevie’s inside.”
“Anything interesting?”
Eddie nods, his cheek dragging against Steve’s skin, “funny tummy noises. And bumping.”
“Bumping? Oh, beating, my heart right?”
“Yeah. Stevie, we can definitely go home tomorrow?”
“Sure thing babe, we can get packed up in the morning,” Steve yawns, “you want to go to sleep?”
“Maybe. There’s bad dreams here.”
Steve blinks his eyes open to look down, a weird shiver raising goosebumps on his arms, all the way down to where his hand is still buried in Eddie’s hair. Eddie didn’t have to put that quite so creepily. “I think it’s just...maybe it reminds you of things here, so your mind is kind playing tricks on you a little? There’s nothing bad here baby, I promise. What do you think?”
“The water reminds me of Barb.”
Steve frowns, “Barb? How do you know about Barb?” Under Steve’s hand, something crawls unpleasantly beneath Eddie’s skin.
Eddie shrugs, “Nancy told me you killed her.”
“Stevie!” Steve fights, briefly, confused. “Stevie love, it’s okay. Bad dream.”
Steve’s kind of sweaty and panting, but he quickly realizes that it’s Eddie whose holding him, so he quits moving, “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down, “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“You want to tell me? Here, water.” Steve takes the glass, sipping it carefully. He can feel the cool water go down, grounding him.
Steve has no desire whatsoever to talk about it, so he deflects, “what time is it?”
“Five?” Eddie leans over, checking his watch before putting it back, “half five.”
“I miss you saying five and a half, it was cute.”
“I can say five and a half,” Eddie takes the glass again before snuggling in.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. Already awake...bad dreams.”
“Fucking hell. We need to go home just so we can get a good nights sleep. What did you dream about?”
“You. Lost you, in the trees...we were here but...Upside Down trees? I tried and tried to find you. Could hear you, ‘help help,’ really scared.”
“Maybe it is this place,” Steve settles down again, pulling Eddie close, “weird that we’re both having bad dreams right?”
“I don’t like it.”
“No but...lets just rest a little, and then breakfast and we can get packed up, okay?”
“Okay, Stevie love.”
Eddie waits outside the phone booth, leaning against the car where it sits parked by the curb. Steve calls Family Video today, knowing that Robs should be at work, “hey Bird-”
“He got him! Hopper! He got the Owens guy!”
Steve feels himself relax, one less thing to worry about, “good. Good, we’re coming home.”
“Okay, Hopper does think it was just this guy. He was staying at the Motel, Hop had to wait around a bit, like proper stake out!! But he did get him. Said he couldn’t find any evidence of him like, working with other people, and El’s going to talk to him or something. Make sure. I’m not sure about that bit but-”
“Okay, okay, so where is he?”
“Hopper’s got him at the Motel. Probably like, tied up, do you think? Steve what if he’s like, working for the government though. Or or the Russians-”
Steve rubs his forehead, “Birdie, I know you do love some empty speculation-”
“I do!”
“But how about we wait until we actually like, know?”
“Spoil sport.”
They say goodbye and end the call, Steve offering the keys to Eddie, “want to do a little of the driving?”
Eddie grins big, clearly surprised and pleased by the offer, “yes I do!”
“Okay, careful though, you don’t know the roads like at home. And no getting distracted by the cows.”
Eddie ‘moos’ really loudly in response, once in the drivers seat, he pauses for a second, “should have bought tapes,” he laments.
“Well, unlucky, I’m thinking some Carpenters.”
“Nooooo,” Eddie laughs.
“Shut up, I know you love it. Now sing to me about how the best love songs are written with a broken arm.”
“I think that’s what she said! Broken heart makes no sense,” Eddie grumbles, Steve still laughing.
Eddie had caved after two hours of driving, but still, considering all Eddie had done before today is short journeys around Hawkins, Steve figures he did really well in an unfamiliar place, and he told Eddie so. Eddie has turned into a surprisingly careful driver, Steve doesn’t know if it’s his consideration for Steve’s beloved car, or if it’s Steve’s constant reminders that Eddie cannot afford to draw any attention to himself. Either way, Steve feels safe in the passenger seat.
“Okay, I think I should take you home to unpack, then I can figure out how to call Hop and see if I can go over.”
Steve’s not even surprised by Eddie’s response, “both go, you mean.”
“Eddie...I’m not sure it’s-”
“Stevie,” Eddie manages to make it a complete sentence.
“Look...I’m not going to take your choice away, okay, if you want to come, then that’s fine. But...you get I just want you to be safe, right? And I feel like the less this guy knows, the better?”
“I know...I know,” Eddie has his thinking face on, when he’s wrestling with how to say something. It’s been happening a lot less lately, but this concept must be more complicated. “The people had me in a tank. They...hurt me. I was scared. Now...Owens is in the tank? He has to...he has to say why. To me. And sorry.”
“I...is that what you want? For him to apologize? To...explain?”
“Apologize and explain. Yes. And...I will not hurt him. I’m Eddie. I’m not people.”
Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really. He feels like he knows Eddie inside and out, but his natural compassion, his...kind of innate goodness still blind sides Steve sometimes. Steve had vaguely considered that a realistic outcome of this may be that he’s helping Hopper hide a body. Maybe. It was kind of an abstract thought he hadn’t wanted to poke too hard but, realistically, they’re talking about a man who experimented on children, on Eddie.
Steve is clearly no where near as forgiving.
Hopper meets them both outside the room. Steve has no idea what to expect, really. The rasp of Hopper stubble is loud when he scrubs at his face, “El thinks this Owens guy is legit. He already knows Eddie has,” Hopper gestures vaguely, “human parts.”
“How?”
“After Starcourt happened, he went back to poke about, and he saw you both. More importantly Eddie, driving a car,” Hopper’s words are full of accusation, like ‘see I knew him driving would be trouble.’
Eddie waves a hand dismissively, “I can go in?”
Hopper sighs, but Steve isn’t going to fight Eddie on this. He knows what he wants, and he’s so fucking smart. Steve’s sure Eddie doesn’t fully appreciate the risks, not since he doesn’t get fully grasp how stuff like actual governments work but...yeah. It’s Eddie’s life, but Steve still takes his hand. If they’re doing it, they’re doing it together.
Hopper just sighs and rolls his eyes.
Steve figured that, somehow, this guy would just...look evil. He doesn’t. He looks like a harmless old dude, sitting on the edge of a sagging motel mattress, looking over some papers. He cannot disguise his interest when Eddie walks in.
He’s not restrained or anything, he’s just...there. There are books and pens and folders and shit spread out on the opposite bed, like he’s been working.
“Owens?” Eddie checks.
“Yes. Yes hello it is...so wonderful to see you again. And to hear you speak! How good is your understanding-”
“I think we have questions, first,” Steve cuts him off sharply. He doesn’t seem threatening, just...genuinely pleased to see Eddie. The guy has to be up to something, Steve can’t shake the suspicious thought that the guy must be one hell of an actor.
“Yes. Of course. I have everything, all of my notes, from Starcourt, so any questions you have I will do my best to answer.”
“Okay, where the fuck do you get off experimenting on people?” Steve’s pretty sure his voice is reasonably calm. He’s vaguely aware of Hopper coming in behind them, pulling up a folding chair he must have gotten from his truck.
Owens closes his eyes briefly, before addressing Eddie,“yes. Of course. I am so so sorry for what you were put through but..the work we were doing. I was not fully aware of just how intelligent you were. Are. I didn’t at first fully comprehend that we were even dealing with a sentient specimen-”
“He’s not a specimen, he’s a person,” Steve snaps.
“I am very smart,” Eddie adds helpfully.
“Yes. Yes you are. And the transformation you have undergone is nothing short of miraculous, if I could take some bloods-”
“Absolutely the fuck not. What were you doing with the Russians?”
“Oh,” Owens seems genuinely confused by the question, like it hadn’t really occurred to him, “when the original labs were closed, the funding ended. Of course we were aware of the mirror dimension-”
Eddie looks at Steve, “he means The Upside Down.”
“-Oh, is that what you call it? Well, it was deemed for too dangerous, and not worth the expense, to continue, not after such a catastrophic failure. The Russians however didn’t seem to have any such issues and were interested in opening a gate; I had to go where I could to continue my work, you understand. And then they brought you back with them. What should I call you?”
“Eddie. I’m Eddie.”
“And you’re working? And you’ve learned to speak and drive a car...your ability to process new information is staggering. The physical changes, did they just happen? What was the-”
“Stop, just stop. What do you want with him? Why have you been asking around?”
“Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, pulling Steve back a little by his shirt. And yeah, okay, Steve may have taken a step forward.
“I just...want to continue my studies. Eddie’s change...the differences in his make up, his body’s ability to rewrite itself – it could lead to...well, significant discoveries. The data I could gather, imagine the effect on modern medicine, what we might achieve – the potential to help people could be immeasurable.”
“We could...help people?” Eddie echoes.
“Yes, well. We could try. Like I said I would have to do some tests to understand-”
“No,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.
Next to him, Eddie asks quietly, “what tests?”
“Just...take some blood, for now. Just try to understand how this happened and...what the changes mean on a genetic level.”
“Look, Eddie, you do not have to do a single thing for this guy, okay? This could be dangerous, they could come and take you away again-”
“I would most certainly like to avoid just that,” Owens interjects.
“Oh yeah, right. Sell me on that then,” Steve snaps at him.
“Look,” Owens spreads his hands, he hasn’t moved from his seat on the bed, “I’m the only one who knows about this. The little contact I’ve had with my previous...employers implies that they’re done with the site, they’ve scrubbed the remains of Starcourt, it’s already being filled in. I only know you even exist because I just happened to see you. No one knows Eddie is alive right now, that he didn’t die in his tank, except for me. If I tell anyone they will take him, potentially back to Russia, and I’ll loose access to him. If I inform the American team, I’ll have to admit that I was working for the Russians, which would cause some obvious fall out for me. This way I can just…continue with my work.”
Steve rubs his eyes. It sounds...legit. He guesses. Logical. “Hopper?”
“El says he’s on the level.”
“Jesus fuck,” Steve huffs, walking in a circle.
“Stevie? I want to help people.”
“I know you do baby.”
“Oh, are you two in a relationship-”
Steve finds himself leaning over to point in Owens face, “do not.”
“Okay, okay,” Owens spreads his hands, “look, I think you need to see this from the other side too. What if Eddie gets sick? What are you going to do, take him to the doctor? And what about El, and her powers? What if something comes up with her? I’m more than happy to-”
“I’m sure you are,” Steve stops him, “and you agree with that Hop?”
“I mean, he’s got a point. Don’t think we could take Eddie to a regular doctor, and El was fine with letting him look her over. I mean I maybe don’t agree with the shit he’s been involved in but...I don’t currently have a lot of choice with getting my kids brain powers looked at.”
“I don’t like it.”
Hopper shrugs, “nope.”
“This is such a bad plan.”
“Not as bad as-”
“Don’t you dare-” Steve starts.
“Letting some fish guy-”
“Hopper!” Eddie adds, affronted.
“Bite your toes off.”
171 notes · View notes
livbedum · 1 month ago
Text
take care of my girl
thornton!reader x rafe cameron
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summary over the course of two years , you and rafe had been playing this god awful game of cat and mouse. it just so happens one day your boyfriend leaves you in the caring arms of his friend , and the game finally comes to an end.
warnings profanity , illusions to an emotionally distant boyfriend , cheating
18+ minors dni
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you , your brother , and your mother were staying at topper’s house for the summer while she had the entire house’s tiling redone. you stayed in the spare bedroom right across the hall from topper’s room , and made no worry about making yourself comfortable. it was currently a perfect summer weekend , and both your mother and aunt decided to take the couple of days they had off and spent in the city.
when you came downstairs to start your day , rafe and kelce were already over , hanging out in the living room. in between topper and rafe sat your little brother. he was playing games with the older boys on the tv , and you couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight.
you made your way behind the couch , grabbing alex’s head and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “good morning , my little angel,” you started , ruffling his hair without too much fuss from him, “hanging with the big kids today?”
“uh , mom says i can’t go on the boat without her , so she wanted me to tell you that you have to hang back and stay home with me,” alex explained , eyes never leaving the tv screen , where him and rafe were currently fighting against each other on.
you hummed , thinking about the plans you had for the day. rafe invited everyone out on the druthers for the day ; you , his friends , your boyfriend , a few girls. “well , i don’t see mom anywhere , do you?” you plotted , leaning down by his ear before whispering, “i think rafe’ll let ya on the druthers , right?”
at the sound of his name falling from your lips , rafe turned and looked at you. he took in your matching pajamas and the rollers in your hair. even not done up , you looked heaven-sent. you were untouchable , and that just made rafe want you more. “if y/n says it’s okay then i don’t see why not , kid,” rafe agreed , nudging the ten year old with his elbow before going back to the game, “it’s not like you’re a baby.”
“thank you!” alex hugged rafe from the side , kiddish smile on his lips to show off his little gap, “what do you guys do on boats anyway.”
“usually we just hangout , listen to music. same stuff we do here but on a boat,” topper explained , grabbing the controller from rafe and taking his turn on the game while alex passed his to kelce.
you moved to the kitchen , pouring yourself a cup of coffee and adding all of your extras when you felt someone come up behind you and grab your hips. “good morning to you too , rafe,” you grumbled , pushing him off of you.
“you look beautiful,” he sighed , moving to lean against the counter, “andy coming out today?”
“andrew is coming , yes,” you answered , correcting him at the same time.
“he gonna be a douchebag today?” rafe continued , eyeing you up and down from behind.
you turned entirely to give rafe a nasty look. “are you going to harass him? because if you are then most likely , yeah. he’ll be a douchebag,” you huffed , crossing your arms , coffee in hand, “i don’t even know how you two are friends. it’s like you hate each other but won’t say it even though you both know.”
rafe chuckled a little as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “i don’t hate the kid,” he began , cracking the bottle open, “i just don’t like that he has something i want.” his blue eyes met yours , daring you to look away first.
you never did. you knew how rafe liked to play his little games. he liked them easy and fun with whatever girl he was trying to get fighting him just enough for it to add to the overall pride he’d feel when he finally scored.
“damn shame,” you hummed , staring back at him, “i should probably get ready.”
“you’re already perfect,” rafe complimented , hand reaching to feel the hem of your shorts. his touch matched the material : delicate.
you smacked his hand away. “we’re going on a boat. i’m not wearing this , idiot,” you hit his chest gently before moving away from him and going to the stairs , feeling his gaze on you the entire time. “we’re leaving at noon , booger! bring sunscreen!” you called out to your brother who just grunted in response.
a few hours had passed , and it was time for everyone to head out. andrew had facetimed you while you got ready , telling you he’d meet at topper’s first. when he arrived , he dapped all the guys up , including alex , before heading up to your room. of course , it wasn’t without glares from rafe and topper.
rafe didn’t like the guy because of you , and topper didn’t like him because he was often the one you cried to about him. andrew was none the wiser , thinking your friend group was one big , happy family.
“you look nice,” andrew smiled , pressing a kiss into your temple as he opened the front door for you. rafe was driving you , andrew , and alex. topper was driving with kelce and the girls they picked up.
“shoulda seen her this morning!” alex laughed , hopping in the front of rafe’s truck like he always did when rafe was chauffeur, “she had those rollers in her hair again. looked all crazy!”
“and you were drooling this morning when i went in to check on you,” you retorted , pushing at the back of his head, “i didn’t look that bad,” you muttered to andrew , sitting in the back next to him.
the drive wasn’t too far to get to the marina. rafe played eye spy with alex while you and andrew sat quiet in the back. “how much did your boat cost?” alex asked when the druthers came into view.
“alexander , you don’t ask people that,” you scolded him quickly , pinching his ear just a little to make him look at you. he did , rolling his eyes as you glared at him.
rafe’s laugh got you to soften before he answered your brother anyway, “way more than it should have.”
“i think i’d rather have my own plane,” alex decided , unbuckling his seatbelt prematurely. rafe reached over , grabbing the polyester before it retracted entirely and buckled it again. “we’re practically there!” your brother whined , clearly excited to go out on the water with everyone.
“somebody could easily be speeding through here , not seeing us , and then slam into my truck. if you’re not buckled? hate to break it to you , but you’re dead after you fly through my windshield,” rafe explained , pressing on his brakes lightly but enough to jostle you all around, “see? seatbelts.”
you glanced at andrew for a moment , seeing him on his phone. he seemed annoyed , but you couldn’t tell if it was you or work or something else. “hang up , hang out?” you asked , nudging your boyfriend as rafe pulled the truck to a stop.
“let the man work if he wants to , y/n,” rafe smiled from the front , giving you a look you knew all too well.
just when he turned around to get out of the truck , andrew locked his phone and smiled at you. “there. all done,” he assured you , getting out of the truck and letting you follow.
he helped rafe grab the necessities from the bed. alex stayed back with you despite grabbing a couple of fishing poles that rafe offered him. you grabbed your bag and a cooler full of drinks. “can we all agree that fishing is going to be stupid?” you asked aloud , knowing topper would groan behind you and andrew would whine.
“fishing is fun!” they both replied. even though topper wasn’t andrew’s biggest fan anymore , they grew up together. fishing was one of their things , and they’d defend it until they died.
once you had all hauled everything onto the boat , rafe took off. alex was right beside him , watching his every move. you sat next to andrew , pulling out your book of the week and started where you left off. andrew , despite being ‘all done’ , picked his phone up again.
“wait , wait!” he called out to rafe , listening to whoever was on the phone as he put his finger up, “i gotta go,” he rushed out , standing up and grabbing his things.
“are you serious?” you deadpanned , looking up at him like he’s the dumbest person you’d met, “like actually?” you heard rafe chuckle a little bit before covering it with a cough , so you shot him a glare.
“yeah , hon,” andrew grimaced. you did too ; you hated that nickname. “duty calls,” he shrugged kissing the top of your head before getting himself on the dock again. he stopped and turned , pointing at rafe , kelce , and topper. “take care of my girl.”
kelce and topper acknowledged their friend while rafe glanced at you. seriously? he thought. seriously. you rolled your eyes. “okay , then. see you later,” you waved at andrew from your spot on the boat , but he was already on the phone again, “rafe , just—“
“gotcha,” the driver nodded , pulling away from the dock and getting out to the water.
he took you all far enough out to where it wouldn’t be filled with people , anchoring down and telling alex to go grab the playing cards and get comfy. rafe had promised him that he would teach him poker , and alex suggested today.
everyone started setting up for whatever they planned to do for the day. topper cracked open a few beers for the girls , and rafe handed you a glass of wine from the bottle he brought just for you. “you heard your boy tell me to take care of you , right?” he smirked , hand lingering on yours a moment too long before you rolled your eyes.
“i can take care of myself,” you assured him , opening your book back up and starting again, “just make sure my brother doesn’t drown please.”
you knew you didn’t have to tell rafe to watch out for alex. every time he was around the older kids , he was constantly being watched by rafe. he made sure nothing was going to happen to your little brother. you hated that you loved it.
andrew hadn’t let you know that he’d made it home or anything like that so far. it’d been three hours. so , you decided to call him. rafe saw you stand up , grab your phone and move to the bedroom for some privacy. he watched you the whole way and gave you a few minutes by yourself.
“hey , it’s your girlfriend calling to say that it would be nice if you’d fucking let me know when you get home,” you rattled into the phone , having to leave a message because andrew didn’t pick up, “it’s been three hours , so , like , hopefully you’re not dead.”
you ended the call and flopped onto the bed you’d spent several nights in before. “fucking asshole,” you whispered , closing your eyes and trying to relax a little bit. you heard the door open and shut before you felt a dip next to you in the bed. one eye peeked open , confirming the fact that it was just rafe.
“you okay?” he quietly asked , copying you and laying down with his eyes closed.
“who’s with al?” you replied , hoping it was topper and not one of the girls you didn’t know that well. rafe assured you he was in good hands , and you were able to sink just a little bit more into the mattress. “andrew was in fact a douchebag today,” you sighed , rolling onto your side to face rafe completely.
rafe copied you , turning on his opposite side and looking into your eyes. usually , he didn’t maintain eye contact for too long , knowing that sparkle would make him weak in the knees. in moments like this , though , he took his time.
you weren’t bickering at each other , weren’t rolling your eyes , weren’t walking away. you were there ; entirely. he was able to study the colors that mixed in your irises and burn them into his memory. he was able to read your mind a little better when you were calm.
“he always is , baby,” rafe finally whispered back , hand coming up to fix a hair that was uncharacteristically out of place, “you deserve someone better. someone that knows you and takes care of you and cherishes you , y/n. i don’t know why you’re with that slob,” he added , bringing his hand down to your hip , and it wasn’t sexual at all. he just wanted to touch you however he could.
the pout on your lips deepened at his words. “throw three years of my life away? doesn’t sound too fun,” you shrugged.
“better than throwing the rest of your life away because you were scared,” he easily countered , thumb starting to move back and forth against the mesh of your coverup.
“and what do i do after?” you questioned , not ever actually thinking of leaving your boyfriend.
rafe chuckled and turned on his back again. “y/n , you would have a line all the way to charleston of guys waiting to fill andrew’s place,” he explained, “no doubt.”
“are you in line?”
his eyes flickered to you again , and a smile he only let appear when he was with you formed on his lips. “yeah,” he nodded, “i’m in line.”
your smile matched his , letting his words sink in. you had this game of cat and mouse , and for the first time , you’re thinking you might actually want to stop playing and just surrender. “so are you going to kiss me or not?”
“you gonna let me?” rafe’s voice was lower , daring you to do something. he wasn’t the type of guy to care too much about a girl’s relationship status , but with you , he wasn’t going to push it too far. he knew the line and stopped short of it every time.
but the answer was simple. you shifted closer to rafe , using your hand to turn his face to yours. “i’m letting you cut the line right now , rafe. take advantage of that,” you advised , voice quiet , like if you spoke any louder it would pop the bubble you two were in.
that was the green light for rafe. he quickly grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you deeply , like he had been waiting for the opportunity. and he had. you both waited two years for this exact moment. the moment you decided to stop playing around and let rafe have what he’d been wanting.
you pulled apart , eyes still closed , to catch your breath. rafe opened his eyes , taking a moment to look at you. your lips were slightly red from the kiss ; you looked perfect like always. “we should probably head back out,” rafe sighed , pulling you out of your trance.
“i don’t think i want to yet,” you admitted , a blush rising on your cheeks. you couldn’t remember the last time you were this flustered over one kiss. “i really don’t want to yet , rafe.”
“yeah , me neither,” rafe agreed with a light laugh , leaning in to peck your lips once again, “i was just trying to be… gentlemanly. i guess,” he rolled his eyes jokingly.
you laughed with him , pulling him in for another kiss. this was one softer than the first , slower. “i don’t need you to be a gentleman,” you shook your head, “just need you to stay you.”
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taglist @p0isonb3rry @starkeydolly @edszn @hearts4suri @mylongshaft @fallout-girl219 @hey-itzjustana123
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theinfinitedivides · 22 days ago
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wi papa look a thing there for me. awa.
prefacing this with a PSA that i'm going to try and keep short but basically regardless of anything i say here let me make it known that i do believe he should apologize. whether or not he's still actively saying that word in 2024 it is something he's used in the past even if he isn't performing said play anymore/saying things like that so flippantly. granted if he does apologize there's always going to be a section of fandom that's like 'he only apologized bc he got caught' yes?????????? that's what always happens????????? lbr you're not going to get on IG and announce you killed your ex two decades ago and you'll be turning yourself in when there's an entire true crime community in the depths of the internet who will dig up the cold case + the suspiciously convenient alibi anyway without you lifting a finger. politicians who get called out for blackface in college do not go around telling people they did blackface in college. celebrities who were homophobic on this hellsite in high school back in the early 10s before they realized they were gay are not going to let you know what their handle was. this is how the world works.
that being said i must confess i caught wind of the stirrings of this a bit early bc during the clusterfuck that was the Jam vs Zamasian RPF poll (i did not go in the notes. rancid ass shit) someone had taken a screenshot of a reblog made as a 'gotcha' to Zamasian voters by implying that they were anti-Black for voting for a ship featuring an actor that said the n-word in a play he hasn't performed for several decades since, with a short taped example that the general public was not going to know how to find unless they were on a mission. i poked around, saw a couple hints here and there that implied that the clip actually existed, marked that down for future ref and went about my business. disappointing? sure. run of the mill especially among people his age in the industry from that time period who are perceived to benefit from white privilege? absolutely. the former bird identified app dragging all of this back into the light (including the interview with Chris Rock. which i have not seen though there's no way it was within the last few years for AMC to still hire Eric if they had seen it. correct me if i'm wrong pls) is unexpected but tracks for the fandom on there.
generally i don't believe in cancelling someone for things they said or did more than ten years ago if they are no longer the same person they were back then. i don't believe Jacob or Assad or any one of the staff of color who may have been working behind the scenes would have agreed to continue interacting with Eric if he had the same attitude as he did when he first wrote and performed the play. i don't believe his Black comedian niece would continue to talk about him and share photos with him if he was calling her or the Black side of her family the n-word. i am willing to give the 'Eric Bogosian n-word' reply tweet he reportedly made before deleting it shortly after the brief benefit of the doubt bc it was 1. supposedly under someone else's tweet talking about the play incident and 2. i cannot count how many times i have accidently commented/almost posted something on here or YouTube or Reddit or ao3 bc i was on mobile and once the keyboard's open the app/browser flips the fuck out and puts the search bar and the comment box too close together. now if his ass shows up and shows out and stands ten toes down while he's currently on time-out or doesn't address any of this we're dealing with a different story. if more examples of him acting like this come out i'll drop him faster than you can call the election it will be that serious.
anyway for now i'm choosing to keep an eye on this while acknowledging that us Black folks do have the right to be upset and pissed as fuck. we deal with enough racism/microaggressions in fandom spaces as it is we definitely don't need new ones, and we don't need them from the past career choice of the main cast of a show a lot of us enjoy. amen
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fluentmoviequoter · 21 days ago
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I have a (The rookie) Tim Bradford x shyreader request please?
Tim and shyreader just recently start dating and one time when Tim, shyreader and his cop friends are at a restaurant “Denny’s” (I always order pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages with Coca Cola) and Tim cop friends are meeting shy!reader.
Tim is surprised when Lucy and shy!reader have secret new best friends handshake and everyone finds it cute while Tim is being sad and surprised puppy asking himself when did this happen. https://youtube.com/shorts/WUON5Q4HDuc?si=4cot1jSQiyi5F-zI
Such a cute request; thank you! 0.7k+ words of fluff (I couldn't figure out how to make it longer without it being super boring. I hope this is okay!)
Secret Relationships, Handshakes, and Pancakes
“It’s been a month,” Tim points out.
“Five weeks and two days,” you correct softly, looking at Tim’s hands rather than his face.
“That’s worse.”
You glance up at him, unsurprised to see that he’s looking directly at you. He hides his smile and lifts his brows.
“Breakfast with a few of my friends can’t be that bad,” he assures. “I don’t even like spending time with them, but I’m still going.”
You push your hand against Tim’s chest before you ask, “Will Lucy be there?”
“Yes,” Tim answers, wondering why you’d ask about her. He’s told you stories about all of them, but this is the big day (Angela’s words) when you finally meet them.
Nodding, you agree to go, then wrap your arms tightly around Tim’s waist. He uses your grip on him to get you out of the door and into his truck. It’s not that you don’t like spending time with Tim or don’t want to meet his friends, but it’s hard being around new people when you’re shy, and you don’t want to make a bad impression and lose Tim forever.
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“It’ll be right out,” the waitress says after taking drink orders.
“Thanks,” you whisper to Tim.
“For what?” he replies, lifting his brows innocently like he doesn’t remember ordering for you.
“Tim!” Lucy calls as the door to the restaurant opens behind you.
You smile and turn, then stand and hug Lucy. She pulls back and offers her right hand, which you take in yours. Tim watches as you shake her hand, then flip your fingers to hold her wrist before sliding your palms against one another. Laughing as you hook your fingers with Lucy’s, then snap, you almost forget that other people are around.
“Um, excuse me?” Angela interjects as she stops beside you. “I want a handshake.”
“It’s reserved for best friends,” Lucy argues. She winks at you as she sits beside you.
Angela groans, then smiles and introduces herself and Wesley Evers. You shake their hands before you lower to your seat. Tim’s eyes are on you, but your neck is already warming, so you keep your gaze forward.
“I was under the impression we were all meeting you for the first time today,” Angela tells you, looking pointedly at Lucy.
“We met at the station,” Lucy explains. “I recognized her from one of Tim’s pictures.”
“When did you see my pictures?” Tim interrupts, momentarily distracted from his internal wondering of how you and Lucy hit it off so quickly.
“Anyway,” Lucy deflects, “Nolan is running a few minutes late, but he’ll be here soon.”
“Did you come up with the handshake yourself?” Wesley asks you.
“I did,” you answer softly. “But it was Lucy’s idea.”
“Were you on the clock?” Tim inquires over your head.
“No,” you and Lucy answer together.
Tim pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down to ask, “How long have you been friends?”
“About a month,” Lucy answers.
Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress returning with drinks for the table. After Angela thanks Tim for remembering her favorite, Tim gently taps his elbow against your arm. You turn toward him and interlace your fingers beneath the table.
“So, while I was fighting to get you to talk to me, hold eye contact… you were hanging out with Lucy and making secret handshakes?” he accuses.
“Bet you’re wishing you’d picked up Nolan,” Wesley tells Lucy.
“Wasn’t the goal of breakfast to let us bond?” Lucy defends for you. “We just bonded early.”
“He’s mad that you stole his girlfriend’s limited attention,” Angela explains. She meets your eyes and smiles. “No offense.”
“None taken,” you promise. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, Tim.”
Tim sighs and murmurs, “I suppose there will be even more handshakes now.” As Angela cheers, he reaches across the table for a straw and uses his arm as cover to whisper, “I’m the only one who gets secret kisses, though.”
You nod, fighting the shy smile growing at his words.
“Hey, Nolan,” Wesley calls. “Lucky for you, no one else has to talk once John gets here.”
Tim takes your hand under the table, and as his thumb brushes over your knuckles, you know your relationship is better than all the secret handshakes in the world. But then he orders for you, and the women at the table act like it’s the sweetest thing anyone has done since Fitzwilliam Darcy walked to propose to Elizabeth Bennet. You turn to hide your face against his arm.
“Wait, handshakes?” Nolan exclaims a moment later. “I love handshakes!”
“No you don’t,” Tim warns, his hand warm against your back.
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