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marinasdiamand · 6 months

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Marina Found a ‘Magical New Form of Expression’ Through Poetry. Now She’s Releasing a Book

"Poetry has actually made me feel free," she says of Eat the World. "Because it's writing about things that, if I'm quite honest, I would rather people not know"

Marina Diamandis was on shrooms a few years ago, writing what she thought were lyrics for new music. A few days later, she looked at everything she had written and realized she wanted to go beyond just songs.

“I tried, and it just felt so weird,” she tells Rolling Stone. “I suddenly was like, ‘I think these are poems, actually.’ As soon as I accepted that, I started writing poetry every single day. For a whole summer, it was every single morning.”

What came out of those writing sessions was Eat the World, Marina’s debut poetry book, which Rolling Stone can exclusively announce will drop Oct. 29 via Penguin Random House.

The book intertwines Diamandis’ musings with gorgeous artwork as the singer explores her experiences with dating, reflects on some dark moments in her life, and examines her early career and her “Marina and the Diamonds” days with compassion.

Diamandis says the poetry captures a side of her that’s much more vulnerable and less processed. “There’s stuff that still feels slightly embarrassing to me, but it’s because I am exposing a genuine part of myself that maybe isn’t as glam and glitzy as I would like to portray,�� Diamandis admits. “But I think that’s a healthy thing. That’s freedom to me: being able to show up as yourself and being OK with it.”

From her home in Los Angeles, Diamandis spoke about several of her Eat the World‘s poems and gave Rolling Stone an update about her upcoming music:

You’ve been talking about the poetry book for two years now. In October 2022, you tweeted, “I’ve been writing a poetry book this last year. It’s spicy, and brutal, and funny, and sad, and kind of like my lyrics, but way more savage.”

Oh my God. Is it that long ago? It is going to be exactly that. Books just take time to write, especially, with poetry. There is a parallel to an album in that you are encapsulating one chapter of your life, and this definitely felt like that. Sometimes, you can’t decide when it’s done until it feels instinctively like it’s finished. It’s been done for about six months

How are songwriting and poetry writing different for you?

I’ve discovered this magical new form of expression where I can still story-tell like I do with my songs, but I’m able to be way more honest and open about things that is just not possible with songwriting. I love the element of fantasy still with pop and with concepts, and sometimes, you have to forego a little bit of the objectivity of a situation for that. So with poetry, it’s completely different. It’s like I’m able to play with and process the past in a completely different format. It’s like there’s no rules.

What have you learned about yourself through the process?

I really learned about the parts of myself that I wasn’t comfortable with at all. I think, on the subject of relationships, they’re amazing because they are mirrors for us. Even being out of relationship, if something ends or if you’re doing random dating, all of those things just show us different parts of ourselves. The book has allowed me the space to be able to explore thing I wasn’t happy about myself in a way that I just don’t think I could have with music.

“Sex Robot” was very relatable, and touches on your experience dating in your 30s. What’s that been like?

I can’t be totally honest, because we’re doing an interview! I think we all struggle with that no matter what age because I think we are living in a very confusing time. The way that we function on social media has distorted the way that we perceive our lives and other people’s lives. I’m very much focused on how my life feels as opposed to how it looks. I’m just feeling very happy and content in myself now.

One poem, “Proof of Time” seems to be an encapsulation of what you think Los Angeles is: a plastic kingdom, perhaps. What inspired that one?

I’m obsessed with L.A., but sometimes I cannot get over this feeling that nothing is old. It feels so strange coming from Europe, particularly Greece and Wales, where everything is old as fuck. That poem is about longing for something deeper rooted to give me that sense of belonging. I was trying to fuse this feeling of this very modern culture, like lip fillers and butt lifts and plastic keychains on Hollywood Boulevard with this sense of history that comes the earth here: the nature, the canyons, the history of the Tongva tribe that lived here for 7,000 years before they all got wiped out.

What does the “Eat the World” poem reflect about the rest of the book?

It was one of the first poems I wrote. I wanted to encapsulate this feeling I’d had throughout my teens and my twenties that drove a lot of my work at the time. It’s like this insatiable need to be loved, essentially, and no matter what you achieve, there’s nothing that can really fill it permanently. I don’t feel like it’s tapping into negative things. I think it was just a reflection on how things were, and I wrote that when I got out of my record deal with Atlantic. It was a real end of an era where I could look at how I had been. I don’t think I really am looking for validation in the same way at all. I think now, it’s just like, is it fun? Is it going to contribute something positive in the world? Otherwise, why am I doing it?

It seems like you’re going through a transitional time in your life.

Definitely. I don’t even know what’s coming with music. All I know is that I feel different, and I also don’t feel in a mad rush. I feel like this next record’s going to be important, and I think the poetry book is also reflective of that. I’m able to take a left turn and do something that was genuinely just for the joy of doing it. I’m in a separate part of my memory bank. That’s how it feels.

You seem more free. Are you?

Yes. I am. Thanks for noticing.

What’s that like?

Oh my God. It’s amazing. Wait. Let me ask you. Do you feel free?

I don’t think so. I feel so stuck on this idea of where I want to be. I feel so chained to the idea of what I want in the future that I don’t feel like I’m free right now.

That’s so interesting. You’ve sparked something in my head, because when we go through these feelings, we think that we’re the only ones that could possibly be feeling that specific thing. For myself, it’s just related to how I grew up and feeling scared actually to be who I want to be. I think the last few years, I’ve really broken through that. I would always walk around the world thinking that everyone is free except for me, which is so ludicrous. I think a lot of us in creative professions are doing it because it makes us feel free in some way. It’s like a portal to freedom. Poetry has made me feel free, because it’s writing about things that, if I’m quite honest, I would rather people not know.

How has your relationship with the Electra Heart, Family Jewels era changed?

I feel so much more compassion for that version of myself. It feels very far away. It is hard to even watch interviews from that time, because I’m like, “Who is she?” Whenever I hear those records, I love them. I love my past, and it also always helps to listen to them right before I’m doing a new record. Because I want to know where I’ve come from, and what I’d like to bring in, what energy I want to bring in. I think this time, it’s an opportunity to do something really different.

You mentioned you’re working on new music. What’s the update on that?

I’ve been writing for six months. It’s still at the beginning. I haven’t started producing anything yet. Part of me is desperate to get things out, but also, part of me is just saying, “Enjoy this process.” Because this is my favorite thing: to build the record and build the world around it. I don’t have any timeline yet, but sooner rather than later. I know it’s been a while, but I’ve had things going on.

by Rolling Stone (April 2024)

#marina diamandis #2024 #interview #rolling stone #eat the world

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 6 months

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James Acaster stood in for Elis James for another episode in August 2018, and finally answered a burning question about a Mock the Week episode from 2016: What was going to be the third thing in the Winston Churchill joke that you never managed to get to?

youtube

Good to have an answer there about where it was going, and I'm glad John mentioned that the edit messed it up, because I'd thought that before. I of course remember that bit, it was a memorable one for being funny in the episode (funnier in the actual episode than in that YouTube clip, as part of why it's so funny is the context of all the other comedians coming out and doing their bits and then James keeps trying his Churchill thing again and it keeps not working), but also, it seemed a bit off. Like there would be a jump where suddenly all the comics are laughing way harder than they were a few seconds ago, and clearly it's cut out some relevant escalation of that bit.

This is from John Robins' first time on Mock the Week, of the two times he's done Mock the Week, and this was the time when it went basically fine, as opposed to when he went back on several months later and it was the worst car crash I've ever seen on a panel show (that might be literally true, I'm trying to think of a worse one and not coming up with anything, maybe some of the messes on Amstell-era Buzzcocks, but those were still funny and fun to watch, so they basically achieved the show's aim even if they didn't go according to plan). You can tell the difference between the two times just from listening to the radio show: first time, he plugged it for a few weeks beforehand, and then the episode after it aired dedicated several links to debriefing. Second time, he plugged it for several weeks beforehand, and then after it aired, he never brought it up again. This episode from nearly two years later is the first time he's mentioned Mock the Week on the radio, since the car crash.

So to John complaining about falling out of favour with the Mock the Week showrunners, bullshit. You can't do that. John, you can't have a show and have it go that badly and then be annoyed that they never speak to you again. You went on their show and crashed a car - and in fact, you're lucky that James Acaster was there to save you a bit with some tension-breaking jokes and Hugh Dennis had some good stuff about jam. But by rights, you should probably have had to leave the country. You definitely can't try to go back on there. Yes she also crashed a car, but she's the regular, she was always going to win here.

But I am really glad that I finally know the ending to James Acaster's Winston Churchill joke from Mock the Week's Scenes We'd Like to See in mid-2016.

#Youtube

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somnolancee · 2 years

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The Bird and The Snake

Finally I wrote another One-shot about them I can die in peace ! Two other less happy are planned and hmmm can't wait to begin them hehehe~

If you want to fully enjoy this one-shot I highly suggest you to read this one before :

"-That's funny... -What's funny? To watch me painting on my fan's canvas?"

"The Artist" let out a slight amused smile. He was trying to concentrate meticulously on his task but it was proving difficult.

Banoffee didn't particularly like being watched when it came to activities other than dancing in front of the King and his Court. He struggled to concentrate when he was alone, and it was hellish when he was not. However, something was different this time.

Usually he would get angry or mumble how annoying it is to be constantly watched.

His interlocutor played for a moment with his hair, carefully braided by the dancer himself. There was a time when the royal servants did his hair. Not once had Affogato Cookie done his own hair. Since then, every morning, the clan leader carefully tended to his white hair with chocolate streaks. What surprised his guest the most was that he had voluntarily offered.

"-No I was just thinking about something else. -What was it?"

Lying flat on the floor next to his host, Affogato rested his chin on his arm, smiling.

"-I was thinking that I must have been here for more than a month and a half now and not once did you ask me to leave. -And where would you go? -No idea, do you care?"

Banoffee did not take his eyes off his work.

"Don't you like this place?"

He paused, waiting for an answer.

"It's even better than the citadel, and you know why? -I have no idea, Affogato" he said with a sigh.

The exiled got up and teasingly sat down next to Banoffee.

"-Because I see you all day. -Obviously..."

He looked exasperated but paid no further attention. It was Affogato all spit.

He continued to observe Banoffee's work. His brush strokes were soft, yet precise and calculated. One would think he had been painting all his life. As for the painting itself, it was just clouds like the patterns he wore on his dress.

"-I didn't know you were that good..."

The cookie with the long hair could not resolve himself that to nod, so much it was embarrassed by this compliment. Affogato tilted his head to the side and stared at him, not expecting this reaction. Usually his ego would be flattered and he wouldn't be shy about letting it be known.

He continued to think about the past month, trying to put a finger on what had changed in just one short month as opposed to all those years when they hated each other and only wished each other dead. He didn't even realize he was falling asleep on the dancer's arm.

Banoffee, breathless, stopped abruptly and observed him in silence, deeply asleep. He put his brush on the ebony table and did not move, for fear of waking him up. He would be lying to himself if he did not appreciate the current situation. He looked at him more closely and felt his cheeks turn pink. Even when he was asleep, Affogato was still beautiful. Unlike when he was awake, he seemed softer, more at peace with himself.

With a delicate gesture he lifted his "roommate" holding him simultaneously by the hollow of his knees and by the neck. He stopped for a moment, wanting to confirm that he had not awakened him, but Affogato was decidedly in the arms of Morpheus. He laid him down gently on his bed and wrapped him in a warm silky sheet. He sat with his back to him and fidgeted with his hands nervously for several minutes.

He thought back to the dialogue of an hour ago.

"-And where would you go?"

This question had been nagging at him for ages. He knew Affogato and knew that nothing would stop him in his plans. He would leave him some day, but he sincerely hoped that day would not come. Would he survive if he had to leave him?

He got up abruptly and ran to his mirror and stared at himself, on edge. He rubbed his face, trying to compose himself. He did not understand what brought him to think about this kind of thing. To tell the truth it was months, years that he wondered. He didn't understand why having this snake by his side made him happy.

He felt like a fool.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled as slowly as possible. He quickly combed his hair and took his prayer necklaces and incense sticks. He took one of his precious fans with him and strolled out of his apartments.

The night was as true to itself as ever: inky and soft, not a cloud in sight. It was, however, chilly, but that was not unimportant in a land like the Dark Cocoa Kingdom. Banoffee took another deep breath and headed for the Ancestral Altar of his domain.

As he did every night for an hour, he prayed to his ancestors, thanking them for all that they had bestowed upon him. He walked slowly, with light steps and heavy eyes, veiled by a shadow.

When he arrived at the sacred place, he knelt down and intertwined his slender fingers between the small beads that were joined together to form a necklace. He quickly murmured some praises and delicately lit each stick of incense. A light breeze caressed his cheek and he fell silent instantly.

He continued to pray amidst the offerings and the strong but pleasant smell of incense. Just as he was about to end his nightly prayer, he was interrupted by a sweet little voice:

"-Banoffee am I disturbing you...?"

***

Affogato was surprised to wake up in the bed of his host. He held his forehead, ashamed to have fallen asleep in such a ridiculous way. He looked around and was not surprised to find himself alone in the room. He knew that Banoffee was out praying late at night.

He stood up and stretched slightly before standing in front of the exit door. He felt this irresistible urge to go out and indulge in the night and its queen the Moon. He knew he couldn't go out, but at this hour no one in the whole clan would notice his presence. He would only have to hide behind a tree or a bush, after all that was not what was missing in this place!

He carefully opened the door and looked around. A piece of his dress in each of his hands allowed him to move more quietly and thus, easily. He took the opportunity to take a deep breath. How good it was to breathe the fresh air. In truth, he and Banoffee went out in the forest a few times, thank God the secret passages existed. More often than not, Affogato would beg him to go out because he needed to get to his own personal altar. Let's not forget that he was first and foremost a shaman. Banoffee was constantly exasperated waiting for him to go further out, as he took so long to do his little shenanigans and incantations.

This sudden thought made him smile delicately. His wandering thoughts dissipated and he was startled when he heard voices. He cautiously hid behind an old tree and looked around. It was not difficult to see despite the darkness, the moon was shining brightly and some lamps were still lit. In front of him was his roommate and one of his sisters. They seemed to be in the middle of a discussion.

***

His sister put her hand on her brother's arm, smiling. They were sitting by a pond, side by side.

"-Banoffee are you okay these days?"

He grinned at her.

"Why wouldn't I be? -Just a month ago you were so sick and broken down."

She looked worried and covered her mouth with her hand.

"-I assure you I'm better, my dear. Stop worrying. -It's true that you look radiant now, as if something had happened...you know, like a click."

Her brother opened his fan, caught in the act. His sister suspected something. In fact, of the six of them, this sister was one of the sweetest and most understanding. He remembered that she was always the one who reasoned with her twins, especially when it came to the Royal Advisor.

She didn't give him time to answer and continued:

"-Have you heard from the King's right-hand since?"

He braced himself at this sudden question.

"-No, I haven't, why? -I thought he was the reason for your click."

Banoffee didn't answer and braced himself even more. She had hit the nail on the head, but he couldn't possibly tell her that he was hiding this traitor who was wanted by the entire Kingdom. Syrup Cookie had always carefully and silently observed every interaction between Affogato and his brother. Her instinct told her that there was definitely more than hatred between these two and it seemed that she was not mistaken.

His brother shook his head and tried to chase away his nonsensical thoughts. However, from a distance Affogato recognized this particular woman. It hadn't been that long since they had met, but the compassion and understanding she had shown him that day had made an impression. He knew that these six sisters hated him with a passion, almost as much as their beloved older brother -at one time- but he had come to notice that this was not necessarily the case for Syrup.

These six parasites may have been twins, but none of them had a similar personality.

"-In any case, it's good to see you happy. We were all so worried. -Ah...Syrup. -I don't know the reason, but I hope it will last and not leave you. -I hope so too."

His sister quickly readjusted her bun before smiling at him again and standing up, followed by his brother.

"-Excuse me for taking up your time, you must have been busy. -It's nothing."

She covered her mouth again and looked at herself in the reflection that the pond offered her:

"-It's good to see you, it seems like forever ago. No one sees you leave your apartments anymore."

Banoffee patted his head warmly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"-Don't worry, nothing serious, I just have some concerns."

Syrup nodded and greeted him. As she walked back to her chambers, Banoffee placed his fan wide open over his heart.

Affogato let out a surprised sigh before placing his gloved hand against his mouth to cover the sound. This fan movement...He had received it from his host when he was under hypnosis. Since then, this gesture had been nagging him. He had been unable to find a scroll that dealt with the language of fans and he had not dared to tell Banoffee that he had hypnotized him the night of his exile. His thoughts began to intensify as he thought about it.

Banoffee Cookie walked back to his chambers, wondering if Affogato was still asleep. He stopped for a moment, his fan closed and brushing his lips. A light breeze rose and he let it caress his long hair. He shook his head and started walking again. He passed by where his guest was still hidden and then he felt a hand clutching at his robe. He was pulled to his left and had no time to react. Affogato put his long and thin index finger on his lips, a sign for him to keep quiet.

They found themselves one against the other, face to face, so much the hiding place was narrow. The dancer was very uncomfortable in front of the almost non-existent distance which separated them. He opened his fan and placed it between their two faces.

" -May I know what you are doing outside? " Had whispered Banoffee, annoyed.

"-I was taking the air until I overheard your sister and you talking."

The leader's gaze hardened even more as the caffeinated cookie didn't take his eyes off of him, a big smile hanging on his face.

"-I know the risk I took, but I missed you so much, little bird."

Banoffee slammed his fan and grated incomprehensible words while rolling his eyes. The shaman didn't pay any attention to him, too busy looking at him from all angles. It was known that Banoffee cookie was considered to be the rival of Apollo, so much he had been spoiled with a beauty without equal. And the glow of the moon only enhanced it again and again. His eyes were so piercing and of such a luminous yellow, that one could believe that they shone in the dark. In fact, he had looked at him so much that he could paint a portrait of him with his eyes closed. Even when his features were distorted by sadness, anger or disgust, he was still as beautiful as a God.

"Let's go home. -Wait, I want to ask you something."

The dancer arched an eyebrow, surprised. The tone of his interlocutor had lost confidence and seemed rather hesitant. He seemed to have a moment of apprehension. He timidly touched the fan and sighed:

"-This is the second time I've seen you make this gesture with your fan against your heart, does it mean anything special here? -Why do you want to know such a triviality?"

Affogato was beginning to pierce him a little more, so he knew to avoid answering his question. As a precaution, he put his hands on his shoulders and then tackled him against the bushes, switching their places. Banoffee found himself stuck against Affogato, so he could not escape.

"I am curious, that's all" he answered him by moving his fingertips against the chest of his interlocutor.

This last hid again behind his fan, letting appear his eyes of Gold. He was shamefully crimson red, but he let himself be done since it was Affogato after all. He too was beginning to see through him, and he knew oh how touchy he was without any modesty or restraint. He sighed, knowing full well that he always got the last word.

"In the language of fans this movement means to express love. More simply it means 'I love you'."

Affogato stopped abruptly, losing his smile, while Banoffee closed his fan eyes closed and still embarrassed.

"-Are you sure about what you're telling me here, Banoffee? -Well obviously what question, are you kidding me?"

He abruptly reopened his eyes and at that moment, he turned sharply on himself before starting to tremble.

"-Wait, you did say that this was the second time you saw this gesture?"

Affogato looked at him, forbidden. A wave of warmth passed through them even though it was cold -but surmountable- outside.

"When was the first time?"

His interlocutor squinted his eyes and looked away, still displaying that same veiled expression. He sighed and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, before moving closer to the dancer's chest. Banoffee let out a short sigh and sank a little deeper into the bush he was already in.

"-Do you remember that first night you hid me? -How could I forget?" His voice was almost muted and more reserved than usual.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he could only remember part of that night. The rest, black hole.

"-It could be that I have you...well..."

Banoffee began to frown as Affogato sighed loudly.

"-I might have hypnotized you for part of the evening, that's it. -You what!?"

The chief had raised his voice out of turn. The exile quickly put his hand on his mouth.

" -Lower damn, all your clan will hear us! "

He jostled him dryly and could then pull himself out of his embrace. He opened his fan and placed it on his face before moving in speed towards his apartments. He was boiling inside. Affogato followed him at a good pace, not being surprised by his reaction. He continued to speak to him although this last made him the deaf ear.

"-You were boasting about not being receptive and you poked my mind and then I wanted to prove you wrong! -... -I swear I didn't have bad intentions!"

Banoffee stopped abruptly. They were both in front of "their" apartments. He turned to Affogato. Affogato opened his mouth in surprise. It had been so long since he had seen him so angry. The last time was years ago, when he had promised him that he would destroy his clan when he became King.

What was going through his mind?

The dancer stuck the end of his fan on his chest and looked him straight in the eyes facing the latter who did not move an inch.

"You are paved only with bad intentions, Affogato. You always were."

The caffeinated Cookie frowned, eyes closed. He wasn't wrong. But this time it was different. Banoffee instantly regretted his words. He was no longer thinking clearly. He knew all too well how a person under hypnosis works and he knew that he had revealed all his weaknesses and worries to Affogato. And he hated it, he who always showed himself so unconcerned, with his head held high.

He turned again, with his back to him this time, hand resting on one of the beams of the building. He was coming back to enter, titillated.

"-And so, what did you ask me?"

He couldn't see it, but Affogato had moved closer to him, head down.

Banoffee didn't know it, but he found himself more than a little embarrassed by this situation as well. All because of a stupid fan gesture.

"-If I was still the person you hated most in this world."

Banoffee clutched his fan tightly and turned his head sharply in surprise. For a first question, Affogato had hit hard.

"Why did you ask such a question? -I know absolutely nothing, it was the first thing that came to my mind" He lied while massaging his temple.

"I don't take. -During all these months of absence you were worried about me? "

The dancer felt wobbly so he leaned against the beam to avoid falling. He felt trapped in a situation he had been desperately trying to avoid for weeks, months, years.

"-And that's why you got seriously ill? -How do you know!? -You forget that the Royal Advisor knows everything about everything concerning his Kingdom."

He didn't answer, he simply raised his head.

"-Is that all that happened? -Well, at your request and begging, you wanted me to sleep with me."

Ashamed, he held his forehead in an incomprehensible mumble.

"-Aaaah that's not true..."

Affogato stood in front of him and with a smile filled with innuendo.

"I guess I know more than your sisters now. -Are you proud of that? -Let's say that..."

He raised his eyes to the sky and then planted them in Banoffee's, his hands resting lightly on his arms.

"-I'll admit that your concern was shared. -Not with me, Affogato."

He clutched at the dancer's clothing, which made this last one flinch. They were again close, too close.

"-No I tell you sincerely, be flattered, I never am."

Banoffee looked away, embarrassed.

"-Oh you can't imagine how wearing it was to spend my days with the King, not being able to sneak a peek at you in the forest or see you strutting around the citadel. Our confrontations and quarrels that used to brighten up my days were gone and everything seemed so... depressing. -..."

He laughed silently and took a honeyed voice.

"-So when I saw you again like a Sun after those dreary and tasteless months...Oh you can't imagine."

Banoffee ticked. He was used to all his flattery, which he collected with great care. But Affogato's was shot right through his heart and he found himself embarrassed and... touched.

There was an unexplained silence for several minutes until Affogato grumbled

"Oh and then...what does it matter after all...? -What are you saying?"

Affogato smiled slightly.

"-There was something I wanted to do during your hypnosis, but I changed my mind. -You...-" Banoffee frowned again, his emotions beginning to get the better of him.

"-I thought to myself that I would have preferred you to be fully aware of the situation, oh I would have been so sad that you didn't remember. -But what are you... -Please don't be mad, okay?"

Banoffee didn't have time to react to anything, as Affogato pressed his lips against his. This fiery kiss was only comforting in the face of the increasingly cold night. Although they were the same size, Affogato was still clinging to the clothes of his favorite dancer. The blood of these last ones did only one turn, both lost in a situation which they did not control.

Their aroma mingled and formed a delicate and absolutely delicious mixture.

After a few seconds, Affogato Cookie withdrew his lips and cleared his throat, expecting to suffer the wrath of the leader. However, when he looked back at him he let a slight sigh of surprise escape from his mouth.

Banoffee Cookie touched his lips with his fingertips, crying silently. The former Royal Councilor was not prepared for this. He awkwardly reached out his hand to the cheeks of the one he had kissed but the latter gently pushed his hand away. Then he opened his fan, held it with his right hand and opened it under his left eye. Then he rushed into his apartments.

Affogato didn't need a dictionary to understand what he wanted to say, so he followed him.

When he entered, he slowly and silently closed the door behind him. He turned his head to the left and saw him sitting against the wall, still crying silently. Affogato knelt down in front of him and gently took his fan out of his hand. "-I'm a bad kisser, right?" he said in a soft and amused tone.

Banoffee could not help but let a sigh of amusement before laughing nervously.

"-Absolutely not, on the contrary. -What got you into this state then? -I spent these last months in the depression. I couldn't say anything to anyone. Can you imagine? Feeling for someone you're supposed to hate, that everyone else hates and shuns like the plague. -What could you do about it. That's the way it is, that's life. -I would hear my sisters say oh what a monster you had to be to love a snake like you. Thinking that my own sisters would not support me. You can't keep a secret like that to yourself. -Yet we are not so different. Your sisters must have a false sense of who you are. After all you've done for them, it's a shame. -It's true. I'm not appreciated either. -That's why you are mine and mine alone, I have you all to myself."

Affogato chuckled proudly to which Banoffee blushed, flattered again. He paused.

"-From the moment I didn't see you again, there wasn't a single second I didn't think about you. You haunted my nights. I couldn't go out anymore, so I stayed drowning in his thoughts. But that sank me more than anything else. -Well, that makes two of us. There's not a night I've gone without your visit in my dreams. Hmm I must admit, it was a delight."

Banoffee chuckled. He wasn't crying anymore and he was slowly becoming himself again.

"-During these past years I have done nothing but take care of my clan and my family. Even so, I was terribly lonely. I have built up a loathsome and haughty reputation because that is all this Kingdom deserves. But it is true that I never thought about my own life. Let's just say it has always mattered little. -Banoffee..."

He stroked his cheek affectionately.

" -You are not alone my bird, I am here now. You don't have to hide anymore and you can fully be you. That is, if you want me. -I would have kicked you out a long time ago if I didn't want you. -And you're not going to get me off that easy."

As the dancer gently took his hand, to caress it, he was thinking.

"-How did you know about my illness?"

Affogato pretended to think. " -Well to make it simple..."

***

During a particularly icy and snowy winter day. Three female figures loomed in the thick fog that engulfed the entire Kingdom. They had not planned to go out, but the situation was more than urgent.

As they arrived at the citadel hoping to see the King, one of the guards stepped in front of them.

"Oh, Mr. Guard, we need to see someone as soon as possible. -Yes it is our brother, he is very sick, we beg you."

Sabayon Cream, Toffee and Syrup cookies fell silent as they heard the heavy chocolate door open.

"-May I ask what the reason for this untimely commotion is?"

The three young women swallowed in disgust. Affogato Cookie was in front of them and he recognized them immediately. The Royal Councilor signaled to the guard to leave them alone and he left.

The dancers curtsied to him out of politeness. Affogato Cookie waved his scepter with a smile on his face.

"-We would like to see the King urgently." Sabayon Cream began, the most impatient and boorish of the three.

"-He is busy with far more worrying things, he has no time for a courtesy call. -But we need medicine!" Toffee Cookie inquired.

"-That can wait. You don't look so bad."

The triplets looked at each other.

"-Now please leave. -Affogato Cookie, please our big brother is very sick!" Syrup cookie exclaimed, on the verge of tears.

Affogato remained unmoved, but inwardly his concern was growing. He tightened his grip on his staff and squinted, trying to control his tone.

"What's happening to him? -We don't know, he became very ill overnight. -We haven't seen him in days!"

If he had the chance, he would have rushed to the estate and treated Banoffee on his own. But he couldn't. How was he going to justify that? Besides, his plan to take the throne was underway, so it was impossible for him to leave the citadel.

He sighed and delicately took out a purse from his coat, which he handed to Syrup.

"-Here, this will be enough to get him back on his feet."

Toffee and Sabayon Cream looked at him malevolently.

"-How can we be sure it's not poison? We know you hate our brother, so let us find it suspicious. -Take it or leave it ladies."

Syrup cut them off.

"-I know it's not poison."

She nodded her head toward the King's second in command.

"-Thank you very much. -If we find out you played us, you'll regret it, Affogato Cookie."

The latter merely smiled and so Sabayon Cream and Toffee turned back.

"You seemed quite sure of yourself, Syrup. -My sisters didn't notice it, but I saw the worry and sadness in your eyes."

He lost his smile.

"-I don't know everything between the two of you, but I know enough to be convinced that you don't wish him dead anymore. I won't tell him where the medicine came from, don't worry. -I thank you."

So Syrup left, giving a last smile full of understanding towards Affogato.

***

Banoffee rummaged inside his suit to take out a rich cloth purse, a purse that resembled Affogato's appearance in both color and pattern.

"-Without your remedy I don't think I would have made it through the days ahead, so thank you. -You're welcome, it was the least I could do. -When I found out I must admit I was surprised. But I guess you wanted to keep it a secret because you thought I still hated you. -You're a clever one."

As Banoffee was about to give it back to him, Affogato refused and motioned for him to keep it.

"-How do you feel now? -Light. I didn't think you shared my feelings Affogato, strange as it may be. -To go from hatred to love, it is clear that anyone would have found it impossible."

Affogato stuck to him half lying down while the latter was still pinned against the wall.

"-But it's hard not to be attracted to someone like you, little bird. -I could say the same about you."

He cut him off with a passionate kiss and so they lost each other until daybreak.

The Kingdom feared these two cookies separately enough, but now that they were together? Oh, it was better not to think about it...

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #oc #cookie run oc #cookie run kingdom oc #banoffee cookie #affogato cookie

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

dancing on the edge of something new

huge thanks to alice ( @reyeslonestar ) for letting me talk this through with her at midnight when it was causing me huge trouble 🥰

five dances in tk and carlos’s life

ao3 | 2.3k | @911fluffweek day 3: getting together // dancing

TK looks over when Carlos slides off the hood of the Camaro, his hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. Carlos is smiling almost shyly, shifting from one foot to the other, and TK can’t help but smile back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Carlos?” he prompts, confusion growing as no explanation is forthcoming. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just, uh…” He bites his lip, then takes a decisive step forward and holds out a hand, cocking a brow suggestively. “Wanna dance?”

TK laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, but he’s already sitting up and placing his hand in Carlos’s, allowing him to pull him off the car and to his feet.

“Well”—Carlos shrugs, yanking TK close and smiling at the oof he makes when their chests collide—“it’s how we began, isn’t it? I figured, if we’re starting again, then it feels only right, no?”

TK stares, stuck dumb, unable to do anything but follow Carlos’s lead as his arms slip around his waist, guiding them into a gentle sway. He rests his own hands on Carlos’s chest, the realisation that he gets to do this now—gets to touch Carlos and be with him like this—hitting him all over again. To think he almost threw it all away… Well, none of that matters anymore. What matters is that they’re here, dancing in a field with no music save for the shuffle of their feet in the grass and the occasional bird or cricket, like a pair of lovesick idiots in a romcom.

And he’s never been happier.

He slides his hands up until his arms are resting loosely around Carlos’s shoulders, fingers playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck. He stares into those familiar brown eyes, so full of warmth and light, Carlos cast in the beautiful glow of the Northern Lights above them, and TK feels an intense feeling take root in his chest. It’s not love—not yet—but it will be.

He can’t imagine not falling in love with Carlos Reyes.

ii.

The club lights strobe around them, bathing the room alternately in lurid colours and strange shadows. The place is packed, the doors practically straining on their hinges, but the only thing TK is aware of is Carlos’s body moving against his own, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

It’s been a while since they were last about to do this, to come out and just let loose for the night. In fact, TK thinks the last time might have been when they were out with Paul what seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed since, and TK feels like a completely different person to who he was back then.

He and Carlos have officially been together for a few months now, but it’s like the universe has been working to stop them from actually being able to enjoy it. They’ve managed to squeeze in some dates here and there, but between the shooting, the solar storm, TK’s medical leave, and weeks of opposing shifts, getting a moment to themselves has been difficult.

But now, finally, they have one. And TK is going to milk it for all it’s worth.

He turns slightly in Carlos’s grasp, his head tilting up to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Carlos grips TK’s hips tighter, pulling them flush against his own as he deepens the kiss, and TK gasps, a sharp thrill shooting down his spine.

The night stretches out blissfully in front of them, the knowledge that this isn’t just a fling that will end with the cold light of dawn making it all the sweeter. It’s still a little surreal, even now, but it also feels so damn right.

TK’s heart hammers in time with the music and he sinks into Carlos’s hold, losing himself in his heat.

iii.

It’s not that TK never felt at home at the condo. The opposite in fact; Carlos’s place had been home even before he could officially call it his, and he feels the loss of it keenly. The thing is, though, even after he’d fully moved in, it had been a struggle to think of it as theirs.

It had been home, sure, but it had also been Carlos’s place.

Carlos had found it a little funny, and it had taken several slip-ups on TK’s part and just as many gentle corrections on his for TK to get used to our dining room, and our bedroom, and our house.

And then—well. Just as he’d started to get used to it, it was all gone. Ashes. It hurt, deeply, but TK knew that it was his turn to be the one to lean on, to let Carlos be the one to set the pace. Carlos had lived there for years, after all, and what was TK’s month compared to that?

Really, anywhere that Carlos is would be home, but this—holding the keys to a house they’d picked out together, a house they’d signed the lease for together, a house they’d picked the furnishings for together—feels like coming home.

He hates that it was the condo burning down that got them to this stage, but TK can’t stop a grin from emerging on his face as he slips his key into the lock.

He finds Carlos in the kitchen, humming and shimmying to a song playing from the speakers. To his credit, TK really does try to bite back his laughter, but he can’t quite manage it, letting out a loud snort which has Carlos stopping in his tracks, flushing a deep red.

“I see the unpacking’s going well,” he says, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning a hip against it.

“It was, actually,” Carlos defends, still blushing. “I didn’t realise you’d be back this soon.”

TK shakes his head; as adorable as Carlos’s embarrassment is, he needs to let him know he’s not making fun. “You can relax, babe. You know I always love seeing you move those hips.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” Carlos leans in and kisses him, lingering a moment before pulling back, a wide smirk on his face. “How about you help me finish unpacking here and we’ll see about showing you more of that hip action later?”

TK grumbles, but does as he’s told, the two of them falling into a comfortable rhythm as they work to getting their house in order. It’s ended up being the perfect blend of their different styles, which probably shouldn’t work together, but somehow do, and TK loves it here. They both do, he knows—nothing will ever replace what they lost in the fire, but being able to build a home together is beyond special.

He keeps sneaking glances at Carlos as the afternoon goes on—sue him, his boyfriend is built like a Greek god—and TK smiles when he realises Carlos has started dancing again. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, which makes the whole thing so much better.

TK watches for a while, then walks up to Carlos and taps him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden spoons he was twirling around.

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before Carlos’s eyes light up with realisation. He barely wastes a second in tossing the spoons aside (though, it’s more like a careful placement in the correct drawer) and grabs TK by the hand, sending him into a literal spin.

TK laughs, taking a moment to right himself after the sudden movement caused him to stumble inelegantly. Neither of them are in time with the music as they dance around the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boxes still scattered around, but it’s not important.

For the first time in his life, TK feels fully, completely at home. It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of.

iv.

“I think they were expecting something slower,” TK murmurs, burying a laugh in Carlos’s neck. Their guests are all wearing expressions with varying degrees of shock, and he can’t really blame them—he’s pretty sure the last thing anyone expects to hear during a first dance at a wedding is a country song. “I still can’t believe you even remember it.”

Carlos shrugs. “I still can’t believe you don’t. It is our song, after all.”

TK rolls his eyes, remembering their first conversation on this topic months ago, back when they were still sorting out all the wedding minutiae.

“‘Our’ song, babe?” he’d said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, because we danced to it for five minutes before leaving to get off in the bathroom?”

“Exactly,” Carlos had replied, his tone so serious that TK wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not. He’d rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at TK’s shoulder. “No, babe. Because it was the first time we danced together on the night that we met. That’s special, right, even if it did only last five minutes?”

TK hadn’t exactly been able to argue that one, and he has to admit now that it was a pretty good choice. If only to see the way Judd almost choked on his champagne in surprise when the song started.

It’s a little untraditional and, if he’s being honest, TK had never thought that one day he would be getting married in Texas on his new husband’s family ranch, with their first dance being to a ‘cowboy song’, as he’d once called it, much to Carlos’s horror. But he and Carlos have never been ones for tradition, and TK wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s. He stops the dance, not caring that the song is still playing, and steps closer, pressing their bodies together. Everything else fades into the background as he leans up and kisses Carlos, barely moving when they break apart. “I love you, Husband.”

Carlos’s face lights up in a grin that could rival the sun in its brightness. “I love you too, Husband.”

Music is floating through the door when TK gets home, and it’s enough to alleviate the weight he’s been carrying all day. It’s not that it had been a bad shift per se (though, when your standards for a good day are ‘nobody dies’, your view tends to get a bit skewed) but it had been long and tiring, and he’d missed his family desperately.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is really his life. But Ana, now three, has been living with them for a year already, and TK can’t imagine their home without her anymore. She’d been a blessing, coming into their lives after years of fighting to get on adoption registers, right when they were beginning to despair of ever managing it.

They did, though, and now TK gets to come home to scenes like this.

Scenes like Ana standing on Carlos’s toes as he guides her slowly around the room in a basic dance. TK watches for a moment before getting his phone out and hitting record; he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to get this on film.

Carlos, having heard him enter, rolls his eyes when he sees what TK’s doing, but flashes him a quick smile before returning his focus to Ana. She hasn’t noticed TK’s entrance, her face scrunched up in deep concentration as she grips onto Carlos’s hands as tight as she possibly can.

When the music ends, Ana claps her hands and giggles. TK takes the moment to make his presence known, dropping to his knees and holding his arms out. She barrels into him, almost knocking him over, and presses her face into his chest, her tiny hands creating creases in his uniform shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK murmurs, dropping a kiss in her hair. He gently detaches her from him and manoeuvers them until she’s sitting in his lap. “Looks like you guys were having fun while I was at work.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Papa was teaching me to dance! Abuela showed me photos when I was with her and Abuelo and I wanted to be just like her!”

“Abuela got out the photo albums again, huh?”

Ana nods again. “Of her… Her…” She frowns and looks up at Carlos.

“Her china poblana dresses,” Carlos says softly, smiling as Ana grins and points at him.

TK laughs and draws his daughter into a hug, rocking them gently, his gaze going up to Carlos. “Well, from what I saw, you were dancing even better than Papa,” he says, smirking as Carlos gasps in mock offence. He looks back down at Ana, tapping on the back of her hand. “You know,” he starts, smiling, “I think I might need some dancing lessons too. Think you can teach me?”

Ana lights up and immediately gets to her feet, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. She grabs TK’s hand and pulls him up, leading him to where Carlos must have cleared a space for them earlier. The music begins to play again and TK lets his daughter take charge, playfully sticking his tongue out at Carlos when he laughs at TK getting firmly told off for putting his foot in the wrong place.

At some point, Carlos joins the dance, the three of them stepping and bouncing around the front room. Ana’s laughter fills the house, shrieking with delight when Carlos sweeps her from the floor and wraps both her and TK in his arms. TK leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, a hand placed on their daughter’s back, and breathes out slowly, all the exhaustion from earlier forgotten.

At last, he’s home.

#911fluffweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

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blu-joons · 4 years

Text

Your Children Almost Walk In On You Both ~ Kim Seokjin

His arms snaked around your waist as you caught your breath, trailing several kisses of your neck. You squirmed loudly at his touch, feeling his fingers poke gently against your skin, feeling his own heart still pounding in his chest.

“Damn,” he whispered into your ear, “I forgot just how incredible you were. Remind me not to leave it so long next time.”

“Don’t blame me, kids are demanding,” you pointed out to him.

His head nodded instantly back at you, “I’m never going to be tired again though if we do things like that. It took me right back, it felt like when we first met all over again.”

“Instead, now we have two kids who take up all of our time,” you sniggered, “is it bad that I can’t remember the last time we even had sex?”

His shoulders shrugged as you glanced back at him, “if I’m honest, I can’t remember either. I guess being parents really has taken up a lot more of our time than we thought.”

“That’s because we do nothing else,” you sighed, letting go of a groan. “We’re not us anymore.”

His left hand moved around to rest against the side of your cheek, “we’ve always been us, just now we have a couple more additions to us, but we’re still the same as we were all those years ago.”

“I remember when we used to have sex nearly every day, and now we’re lucky if it happens once a month. I didn’t want to be one of those couples, but it really does feel like we are.”

Jin’s grip around you tightened, pressing several kisses again against your shoulder to try and keep you calm. You were right, the two of you had definitely lost who you were from a few years ago.

“Why don’t we try and do more just for us, and not just as parents. Maybe that’s the solution to try and find ourselves again and not just get wrapped up in being mum and dad all of the time.”

“How would we ever do that?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He paused for a few moments, “I’m sure if we thought hard enough, we’d find a solution. My parents always say that they’re happy to babysit for us.”

The two of you were incredibly lucky that so many members of your family offered to help the two of you out, but you were very protective, just a night away from your children was hard on you.

“Let’s give it a thought, it might not be the worst idea in the world.”

Jin’s mouth opened to speak, but just as it opened, so did your bedroom door, revealing two little faces. Jin quickly reached down to pull the duvet up and around your bodies, feeling your body jump against his as the panic was clear in your expression. Your children burst into your room, both leaping up onto your bed.

“We can’t stay in bed forever, even if it is the weekend,” your son groaned from beside you, “you always come and wake us up, what happened?”

You were rendered speechless by the sudden appearance of your children, kicking Jin gently underneath the duvet with your foot to start talking.

“We thought you’d like to sleep a little longer today,” he hummed, “but clearly that’s not the case.”

You could feel your daughter’s eyes staring at your bright red cheeks, praying that she ignored it, which Jin quickly caught onto as well.

“Why are the two of you still in bed too?” She innocently quizzed.

“How about breakfast?” Jin asked, quickly changing the subject.

The two of them both nodded instantly, “we’ve been waiting for breakfast for ages.”

Your daughter was the first to jump back down from the bed, followed quickly by your son, racing out of your bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Once they were out of the way, Jin pushed the duvet back again, peering down the side of the bed for the boxers you’d thrown down there in the heat of the moment. He slid them on quickly before turning onto his side to face you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he rested a hand against your stomach, leaning across to press a kiss against your cheek.

“Don’t,” you hissed, “if they would have seen anything, we’d have never heard the end of it. Don’t even try and do it again.”

“They saw nothing, there isn’t anything worry about.”

Your hand came out from underneath the duvet and struck his arm lightly, as a smug smile made its way onto Jin’s face. While you were terrified of what could have happened, Jin couldn’t help but see the funny side of it all.

“They’re still just as innocent, don’t worry,” he continued to tease you.

“It’s alright to say that now, but they might not have been five minutes ago.”

You struck his arm once again before he had the chance to speak, offering him a stern expression to be wise about what he said next.

“I’ll go and sort the kids out,” he smiled, “you take all the time you need and then come and join us when you’re all sorted.”

You stayed frozen whilst Jin left the room, pressing your head into your hands as you tried to come to terms with what near danger you found yourselves in.

Once you were finally composed, you threw the duvet away from your body and changed into a pair of pyjamas that you found at the top of the drawer. The noise of your children greeted you as soon as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Jin danced around the table as he plated up breakfast, smiling widely in your direction as soon as he noticed you walk into the room. His lips pressed to your cheek as he encouraged you to take a seat and let him take care of you.

Your body was tense throughout the entirety of breakfast, feeling that things hadn’t moved on. You were almost expecting some sort of the question from one of your children, but they were far too interested in their food to pay attention to you.

Jin could tell beside you immediately that you were still feeling unsure, nudging you gently as he noticed you drift off into a daydream.

“Let’s be a bit more careful next time, I know it’s not something we won’t to happen again.”

His head nodded in agreement, encouraging your children to head off and get dressed for the day. “We can’t constantly do everything in fear of the kids.”

“That’s what we signed up for as parents Jin,” you sighed, “we have to be careful, always.”

As much as he loved being a dad, Jin also loved being a husband. At times, finding the balance between the two was hard on him, you’d often have to give him a warning to put the kids first or be careful with his actions.

“I can’t help myself teasing you sometimes, but I agree that the kids have to come first,” he acknowledged, “one day when they understand sex, life will definitely be a lot easier.”

“Jin!” You cried out, placing your head into your hands. “If anything, it will just make things worse, no child wants to imagine their mum and dad having sex.”

“At least they’d know that their parents are very much in love with each other, even after so many years together.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you knew that somehow, he had managed to make a good point. “Is this your way of suggesting that you’ll be the one who has the talk with them?”

“They’re too young just yet, but if giving them the talk means I can have sex more often, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“You really are impossible sometimes.”

---

Masterlist

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egcdeath · 4 years

Text

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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lilacsandwhiskey · 3 years

Text

Happy

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song inspo: CWJBHN / Jake Scott

Warnings: alcohol usage, fluff

“It’s raining.”

A smile tugged on your lips as the boy on the other end of the phone spoke.

Tom’s thumb tapped the lip of the bottle as he stared at you, wanting to know anything and everything about you. “What’s your favorite kind of weather?” He asked. You let out a small laugh at the question, thinking if you’d ever been asked that. “I love a rainy day.”

You peaked out the window, taking in the gray sky surrounding you, fog rising from the pavement. The rain fell slow and steady. You felt your mood shift, a happiness erupting through your body. “You’re right.” “I’ll be there in 15.” Tom said before hanging up.

Months ago when you’d answered that question, you had no idea how Tom would use that to get closer to you. When you’d met him after a break up at a bar, sulking on your own, he walked up to you, confident, kind, but not over the top. Other guys had walked up, practically demanding a good time, but Tom walked asking for friendship (fishy, right?). He made you more comfortable when he invited you to sit among his friends, after you’d told him you were new to the city. There was no doubt you’d all hit it off quickly and hanging out became more normal as time passed by.

Your friendship was instantaneous. You found yourself fond of the brown-headed boy. He took his time to get to know you, but there was no doubt you’d found him so easy to open up to. He’d watch you, listen to every word you had to say, and then - he’d remember.

The first time you noticed he remembered small parts of your conversations is when you had briefly mentioned that you were so obsessed with dachshunds. He just so happened to see one on the sidewalk while going for a morning jog and snapped a quick picture, sending it and mentioning that he’d thought of you.

Then he was back in London, and though you hadn’t seen much rain in LA, it was raining there. He called you just to tell you it was raining. You felt your cheeks heat up at someone taking the time to know you, study you, and memorize you.

Tom was patient with you above all. He knew how ruined your ex had left you several months ago, and how sudden movements and words could send your mind to places. You’d opened up to him about it one late night over a bottle of red wine in your scarce apartment that you were still trying to make your own.

——————

When he pulled up outside of your complex, you tugged the rain jacket that you hardly got to use over your chest before running out. The boy was out and opening your door before you reached the car. Head down but laughing, Tom ushered you in his car before trudging through the new puddles to get into the driver side.

“What’s the occasion?” You asked as he plopped down in his seat, slightly breathless from the quick movements. “It’s your favorite weather and we’re in the same place for once. Gotta take advantage of that.” He responded, giving you a smile before turning the radio up just a tad that it covered the comfortable silence between the two of you.

Your conversation built up further into the drive as you whisked through traffic. Tom heard you mention that you’d end up finding a chill Thai restaurant a few weeks ago, but he wasn’t in town to experience it. “Why not now?” He said, handing over his phone for you to type in the address.

When you’d both pulled up to the small restaurant, there were hardly anyone in the parking lot. The weather had cleared out some traffic, making it easier to maneuver through the city. As you walked in, Tom slipped his hand into your own, pulling you towards a small booth towards the back of the restaurant. The feeling of Tom’s hand in yours made your heart skip a beat, recognizing the soft grip of his calloused hand in yours. A blush crept to your cheeks as you sat down across from him.

After ordering, Tom sat back in the booth, twirling the straw wrapper in between his fingers. “Missed you so much these last few weeks.” He said with a grin. “I missed you too. It was hard not giggling over a bottle of red with you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. “Hm, maybe we should buy a bottle and do that tonight, whatdya say?” “Let me check my calendar.” You replied with a small laugh.

The conversations were easy. Tom told you about his time visiting with his family, how he’d gotten to go golfing with his brothers and dad, the walks he’d take Tessa on, the new cafe that opened minutes down the road from his childhood home that him and Harrison went to everyday to try a new flavor of pastry each time. You talked about your new job, the new friend you’d made in your complex, the time you thought you ran into Adam Sandler at a restaurant last week but it definitely wasn’t him.

Tom always listened with intent, asking questions to make sure that you knew he was listening. The food had arrived and you’d both been shoveling the food down, talking between bites. Laughter erupted one too many times, receiving odd looks from others in the restaurant, but neither of you minded.

It was hard not to fall for Tom. He was beautiful, really. His curls were always perfectly placed, no matter how messy, his eyes always bright with admiration. He was patient with you, understood why you could be stand-offish in certain situations because of your past. He never failed to remind you that you were important to him. He was smooth, no doubt, come backs and flirting was simple with him.

Tom had so easily fallen for you fast. From the moment he watched your chemistry with his friends, to the talks, the calls, everything, he found himself so intrigued. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met - so gentle and kind, so honest but never rude. But he knew you were still healing, and he was more than understanding of that.

As you walked out of the restaurant, Tom grabbed your hand, running through the pelting rain. Laughter erupted from the two of you as he quickly opened your door, with “love, get in, I’m soaked!”

When he jumped in the driver seat, he let out a breath, taking a look over at you. Giggles continued as you noticed his curls matted to his forehead, droplets of water littered over his freckles. If you weren’t so unsure of what this moment could’ve held, you would’ve kissed him. But you didn’t.

He seemed to hold your gaze a little longer than usual. “So about that wine…” He half-whispered, breaking the trance he’d held with you. “Oh yeah.” You say, recognizing you’d have to stop once more at the store.

One stop later, you were both on the way to his LA apartment where he’d stay in town. You wanted to curse yourself for not asking him to stop by your place so that you’d be able to grab a change of clothes, but the boy must have read your mind.

When you’d made it up the stairwell into his place, he’d set the brown paper bags on the counter, saying “wait here.” He walked back with a towel, a t-shirt and joggers. “You can change in my room, I’ll take the bathroom.” He said with a smile.

You felt your heart do flips as you pulled the shirt over your head, noticing the familiar scent of the boy lingering all over you. It was intoxicating in the best ways. You’d never wore any of his clothes before besides a hoodie here and there when you were out, which you always made sure to return even when he opposed.

When you walked out, your breath hitched seeing his loose gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips with a white t-shirt hugging his fit body. He had a speaker in his hand as he scrolled through his phone, music lightly playing in the background. He hadn’t noticed you enter from out of his room yet so when you walked over, his head snapped up but instantly his jaw dropped.

“You, uh, look better in my clothes than me.” Tom said, a smile covering his face. “That’s a bold statement, Holland”.

Music playing softly in the background, the television on playing some cooking show, and the two of you sat in the kitchen at the small table where matching win glasses were across from each other, never going empty.

A few glasses in and there the two of you were, giggling through the alcohol high that was produced. You weren’t entirely sure it was just the alcohol. That’s when Tom’s hand covered your own on the table, eyes beginning to gloss over.

“You know, it’s funny how the world works?” He said, staring across the table at you. “Yeah?” “Yeah. Like I just meet you one day and suddenly you’ve become my favorite person.”He hiccups, causing the both of you to let out laughter.

Your face felt warm as he pulled you over to the couch another glass later. “Cuddle me.” Tom begged, giving grabby hands as you sat on the other side of the couch. You couldn’t help but laugh, and though you’d cuddled before, platonically, you felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach and throat and everywhere else on your body.

You struggled allowing yourself to feel like this. It was Tom Holland for crying outloud, and you were just some regular girl with a regular job. You’d been hurt, and you let that creep into all your thoughts everytime Tom would attempt to get closer to you.

So as you fell into his side, his arm coming across your back and twirling tiny circles on you hip and side, you felt yourself get nervous. Tom must have noticed because he looked over with another hiccup and frowned. “I’m sorry, am I being too much?” “No, never, I just…”

He interrupted with another hiccup and blurted, “I like you.” His glossy eyes widened recognizing the words that left his lips. You played it off with responding, “I like you too.” “No, uh, oh what the hell, no like I like like you.” Tom said, giggling as he pressed his head into your shoulder.

Your heart was swelling with each interaction but perhaps how much was this true? He was a little drunk. As if the boy could actually read minds, he pulled back with a worried look on his face. “I’m not drunk enough to not know what I’m saying. I will remember this in the morning.”

You let a laugh slip your lips at the boys abruptness, and you couldn’t find it in you to want to argue. You had for sure fallen for him, but you were so scared of this too. You didn’t want him to realize that you were broken, that you weren’t worth it in the end. Tom had never made you feel like that though. He was always patient and kind and made sure you were comfortable. He checked in on you, even on his busiest days. He showed you he cared.

His forefinger came to the side of your head and poked. “I see those wheels turning up there. Did I say something wrong?” His voice wavered, the once confident voice was now weaker than before.

“No, no, I just. I really like you too, Tom. I just don’t want you to be burdened by me.” “Burdened? Are you insane?! Woah, no, didn’t mean it like that. But you could never. If anything, I’d burden you with my constant need of affection from the prettiest girl. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

With a laugh, the boy pulls you closer. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful mind up there, but I do know this. You deserve to be happy, we both do. Can we just… be? Be happy? Let me show you how special and important you are.” “Maybe we should talk more about this sober, but I will say this - you do make me happy and I’d be happy to explore this with you. Just not drunk.”

Tom giggled with another hiccup. “I think you’re right, but I’ll definitely remember this. I couldn’t forget the prettiest girl in the world telling me she likes me back.” His tousled curls tickled your cheek as he nuzzled deeper into your neck. “You think I’m pretty huh?” You retort, shaking your head at the affections. “Mhm, the prettiest.” He replies, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. “The prettiest, darling.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland and co #thomas stanley holland

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pocketfulofrogers · 3 years

Text

Fallen

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: After Steve drops the shield, he begins down a path he may have no hope of returning from.

Notes: I would not be opposed to turning this into a series, but it would be a lil dark and hella angsty.

It's for the best. He tells himself. They’ll forgive me when I’m done. They’ll understand.

Steve repeats this on a loop, a desperate track that tries to soothe the bile that builds in his throat as he types. His heart beats rapidly, each thump against his chest echoing one unified truth: these are lies.

But he needs them to keep moving forward, so that he may forget the look in Natasha’s eyes when he left her in stunned silence on the runway. Her hand gripping her duffle, the humid air thick and sticking her bright hair to her forehead- eyes glistening. Forget the things he said to Tony, full of rage and hurt and everything he hates. Forget Sam and all his pleas, asking for the chance to keep his friend safe.

“Just give it some more time, man.” Sam had begged.

He had given it time, seventy years of it. Add a few more for doing things the ‘right way’ and all he had to show for it was a demolished building, several civilian casualties, and a smear to his name.

Lost and fresh out of hope, Steve had tossed the shield. Not that it mattered all that much to him anyways, all he saw in the center of that star was a replay of every failure he had ever had. Funny enough, they started and ended with the same person.

Bucky.

See, the general consensus on had been that if the Winter Soldier were to take Steve Rogers, hold him for days and beat him until he broke more than his bones, he would cease this rescue mission he had been hellbent on since the fall of SHIELD.

They were only partially right.

Tony had been the one to find him strung up in an abandoned warehouse barely conscious, his eyes sunken and hollow. His body was a mess of blues and purples. Too terrified to touch him, Steve hung there for an additional twenty minutes before the medical team arrived to pull him down.

It was the first time they’d ever seen Natasha cry.

His heart stopped twice in the time it took them to reach the compound and Banner didn’t upgrade him from critical condition until three weeks later. He didn’t open his eyes for another two.

When he eventually emerged from the critical care wing, he was different. “It’s to be expected.” They drone out. Sure, but not like this. He was dark. Twisted and bent and no longer the captain they remembered.

Three cadets had filed complaints by the end of the month, citing a range of problematic offenses. It didn’t take Natasha very long to convince Fury to let them slip through the cracks if Steve would agree to move to another area.

Despite it all, he seemed more focused than before. He swears up and down that if there’s only one good thing he does with his life on this god forsaken planet, it will be saving his friend.

With that thought, Steve presses send and seals a deal with the devil.

You’re leaned back in the metal of a chair, appreciating the cool contrast to the hot sun filtering down. A single, freshly manicured nail traces the lattice pattern of the tabletop absentmindedly while you glance over the café menu.

“A little warm today, isn’t it?” A man asks from behind you.

You turn your head to the side, unable to see him still. “I quite like the warm.” You answer back.

He slips his way behind you and into the chair before you. Something about him feels familiar and it sets you on edge enough that the pistol on your thigh beneath your black dress feels a little heavier.

The stranger has a ballcap worn low, obnoxiously covered in anything that could possibly scream ‘I’m a tourist’.

You lean forward. “I said you needed to blend in not announce yourself as an easy target for every pick pocket in the state.”

“I can’t risk being made, and it’s worked before.”

Sliding your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, you eye him. Not a single discernable feature about him yet something felt very off. “Who are you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

You smile coly as you nudge his knee with the muzzle of your gun, and he tenses. “Not an optional question.” It isn’t until he’s raised the bill of the cap up just enough for you to see the bright, clear blue of his eyes that it finally clicks. “Absolutely not.” You announce as you stand.

His hand darts out to grab your arm. “Please, just hear me out.”

You stare daggers at his hand until he pulls it away. “Captain, have you suddenly forgotten what side you’re on?”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s on my side.”

You purse your lips. “Do you know who I am?” His eyes fall flat and you shake your head. “My answer still stands. I’ve been at this too long to bring in a maybe ex Avenger that could blow the whole plan.”

“I need the money.”

“Ask Stark, he’s got plenty of it.” Steve averts his eyes at the comment and shoves his hands into his pockets. Maybe he wasn’t kidding. “What do you need it for?”

“A friend.”

Your laugh drips sarcasm. “Are you going to offer up any useful information or am I going to have to blow your poor attempt at a cover and slip out? There’re some big names looking for you, Steve, especially if you’re all on your lonesome now. Watching the mercs and the US government fight for first dibs sounds fairly intriguing.”

His eyes snap back to meet yours. “And then I bring you down with me.”

You lean forward again. “I wonder if you’d live long enough?” You ponder for a moment with a sinister smirk. “I am not an enemy you want to add to your growing list.” You grab your bag and stand up. “Good luck in whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m trying to buy the freedom of a friend.” He says quickly just as you’ve turned your back and you pause. “Hydra set a high price.”

With that, you sit back down. “You’ve piqued my interest, go on.”

He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth and leans forward. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he barely even knows who he is.”

“The Winter Soldier?” You ask and he nods.

“I knew him a long time ago, thought he died. He saved my life more times than I can count, so I’m trying to do the same.”

You dart your tongue out to wet your lips. “Very noble, but this is not the place for you.” Steve moves to interrupt, but you hold out a finger. “We are not noble, we’re barely even reasonable. If it’s money you need, go rob a bank. There’d be less blood on your hands.”

“It wouldn’t be enough. I don’t care what I need to do, I’ll do it.”

“Story checks out, boss.” You pause to listen to the man who’d been feeding you tidbits of information on the other side of your earpiece. “Chatter says he’s cut ties with the Avengers permanently. There was some kind of falling out with Stark.”

Looking back to Steve, you watch him for a few moments. “You’re about to cross a line you can’t come back from.”

“I’ve already crossed it.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #Avengers

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rosyk · 3 years

Text

Clichè

pairing: lee minho x reader

genre: heavy or light angst, fluff, marriage, misunderstandings

warnings: light curses, situations that involves deep anger or sadness, mentions of disease, death(?)

word count: 5.2k

a/n: Hi it’s your gal, rosyk. I’m back with writing fanfictions and it’s like 4 in the morning. I haven’t slept yet so there are many grammatically incorrect sentences or spelling errors. Hope you enjoy this one though! (Inspired by Dear John- Taylor Swift)

I sat by the car, the same old one he and I used to drive in. This was a simple car but we swore to use this for our wedding since memories are still stuck. It made me wonder what could’ve happened if everything went right? What would’ve happened to us if there were no obstacles in life? It then made me realize that indeed there were no obstacles, none other than you.

I drove the car to meet your sister who desperately needed to talk to me. She said there were secrets I needed to know but I get the gist of what she’s trying to do. Set me up? Trap me? Convince me? So I could be tempted to get back into your cage? I don’t want that to happen, never again. I’m sick and tired of this one-sided relationship I never noticed because I was blinded. Aced all my tests, I am smart. But when it comes to you, I look like a whole fool trying to fall in love with a guy who gave up. This is why I wanted to show her that I’ve moved on, at least based on my view. Wearing both of my earphones and played our song, I sighed deeply and continued to drive along Cornelia street. My days only revolved around you but what exactly went wrong in between us? Scratch that, what happened to you?

Back then, all I could do was love you. Not less but everything more. I could never stand loving you lesser each day. It’s not on obsessing but to the point that I recognize your feelings though still, I try to force myself. You know how I do grow tired from time to time, but that’s all because I care for you. There’s not much positivity from that though. The downfall happens when I love you much more than you feel for me. It was never equal no matter how I try to persuade myself, desperately needing your affection.

My mother used to tell me how crazy I was to fall for a guy like you. How was I supposed to tell her you were fine since then? Yesterday, you rained me with care. On Friday, you sucked it all up and acted as if nothing happened. All I could do was pray that the guy I used to know, is the one I’ll meet today and greet me in front of the door with wide gentle hugs.

You give me hope, then take it back all at once. I remembered a sunny sky in blue that suddenly turned grey after you decided to shrug me off several times. I was in your tiny piece of chess game. Though you change the rules every day, hoping I would give up until the end. What’s funny is that typically families opposing would be the ones who would give tests to both of the couples to prove their love. And yet, you were the one who was trying to give me a hard time and when I was lost in the thought of giving you up, you decided to save me at the end of the day.

You were a puzzle I couldn’t solve. Little did I know, there was a missing piece I could never find until then. Just like a whole puzzle, you were complicated but due to my drive and need, I had to hang on to my aim. I had to do it because I was convinced by all your “sorry“. Or maybe it’s just me trying to change my mindset to find a reason to stay because I knew there was no difference between all your other sorrys before.

“Which Minho would I be able to talk to on the phone?” It runs through my mind each Sunday of my life and gives me anxiety. But every time I hear the phone ring? I never hesitated to pick it up. No matter what kind of guy I am faced with, I wanted to know deeper why you were acting so confusing. But on that single day, I didn’t pick up the phone. I cried and had sleepless nights. My worst nightmare just came and here’s why:

“Don’t you think this is a good improvement? We’ll sit by the couch and place a big screen tv.” You placed your arm above my shoulder and I continued your lovely story.

“Then we’ll watch your performances?” I looked at you in the eye, grinning as you smirked at my idea. You hummed in question and tilted your head. “Lee Minho, the most famous kpop idol who reached internationally and was supported by his lovely fans” I placed both of my hands above, imaging a billboard banner with your name and face on it. Thousands of people watching and idolizing you.

“Really?” You shifted your position into a more comfortable one as I leaned on your chest. Nodding at my suggestion, you pressed your lips together and listened to me, getting all happy after trying to predict and set goals in our lives.

“Of course! Why not?” I turned my head to face you and gave you a slight hit. “I could feel the energy of the universe as if it's trying to tell me that was our fate” You playfully laughed at the girl in front of you who is telling such an exaggerating fairytale. “Besides, ” I went back to my position and grabbed your arms around my waist. “Your number one fan is just a surgeon anyway” You responded with an oh? as you began to get amused with my statements. “A surgeon who never failed to help people even in a situation full of pressure. The best surgeon in the district” I smiled in a bragging manner, lifting my hand to flip my hair.

“I like that” you nodded in approval. “But don’t you think it’s much better with the title, the best surgeon found around the world?” My eyes lit up with stars because indeed that was a better match. I grinned and raised my eyebrow.

“That’s better” an idea popped up and so I turned back once again. You looked at me in confusion and waited until I would continue what I wanted to say. “But how about the dating ban? Does that mean we have to keep it low?” You looked at me concerningly and so I did. Panic arose in my mind. “Or maybe we-“

You placed your hand up my lip and shushed me. Everything is going to be fine, you tried to assure me. Lifting up your hand and caressed my face, you continued and stared at my pouty lips. “Of course not. It’s you,” with a silent pause, you pointed directly at me with a lovingly stare “and I” you did the same back at yourself and held my hand, enclosing it together. “against the whole world”. You chuckled whilst you tipped your forehead on mines.

“Too cliché” I laughed at you but no doubt that made my heart flutter. Oh, how I wish he knew how much I love him.

[MONTHS LATER]

“Do you have everything packed?” I sighed deeply the minute I rummaged through the closet. I stopped as soon as I saw the yellow hoodie hung inside. “You forgot the hoodie!” I chuckled though scared, deeply hoping this isn’t what I think it is.

“That’s your favorite. Keep it” he smiled but those words pierced straight through me. I felt what he meant. My last token for our relationship, isn’t it? What happened to all those you and I against the world? Were all those just things to make me feel relieved?

“Oh” I responded dryly and gulped, pressing my lips together to stop these drops from falling. “Mhm, ’kay” I closed the closet and faced the guy who’ll soon be leaving. “Go” You looked at me with pity and everything I didn’t want to see in your eyes. I’m okay, at least that’s what I like to believe. As I was busy trying to act tough because I don’t want you to see me being vulnerable once again, you gave me the warmth I needed. A necessity in my dark days.

“I’m sorry. I won’t leave you alone, maybe quite busy but I’d never wanted to split up with you” I finally cried after everything. It was a big wash down of emotions and you felt sorry again. It was a painful sight for you, I know.

“But those hoodies..” sniffs went in between those sobs. As usual, you tried to assure me by caressing my face. It was an act to show that we’ll still stay the same.

“I want you to return this to me after I become an idol. I want you to promise you’ll hold on to us. Wait for me okay?” That was the first and last time I’ve ever seen you cry. It hurts deep bad, but I didn’t want to be an obstacle to your goal as well. I’ll wait no matter how many years it may take.

[DECEMBER OF 2018]

Hey, I’m not sure if you still received my letters. It’s been long, don’t you think? I feel like you don’t remember me anymore but I was your first love haha. Would you still be able to know me after I come back there? I’ve heard you all over the news. Minho, the guy who brought K-pop internationally and broke the Billboard charts. I told you that you’d make it. Me? I’m now a surgeon. Not internationally, but definitely in the district. I’ll get there soon, right? One more question, can I return the hoodie? I did wait for you, hoping you did as well.

I sighed for only God knows how many times for this day. The more I’ve been sending letters, the less I’ve been receiving.

I held on to the letter and got up from my bed after hearing a call once again. The last time I was able to sleep was decades ago and so I had to go back to work. Luckily, it wasn’t a heavy operation but I just had to check-in by the hospital to get the patient’s results.

“Good afternoon, Mrs!.” My patient joked and I could clearly see my best friend smirking.

“Maddie! Stay safe when you get home alright?” I smiled greeting the patient who joked before getting ready to leave

“Hey, hey it’s not too safe to go outside yet. Call someone to assist you. Take care!” Another response of mine was said after a boy who was operated on and took rest for three weeks passed by me.

Beaming from ear to ear, I squealed and hugged my best friend tight. “ALICEEE!” It’s been years since I’ve seen her. She accompanied Min on his way to Korea. And before any of the readers misunderstand, they are siblings. Quite awkward at first if I must say but it’s great to know lots of information about him.

“Hush, we’re in your workplace. You told me that, right? Alice, don’t scream or get hyper whenever you’d come back here.” She mimicked the way I talked in an insulting manner, not that I’m offended by it. We just like to mimic one’s tone as a sign of sarcasm. “Well, look who’s talking?” She furrowed both of her eyebrows as I laughed and took my hands off her.

“So how was Korea, Lisa? Did you find someone? Maybe that guy who you friend-zoned at?” I started chuckling after seeing her blank face. It was honestly funnier to see her reaction. Her stop-it-kind-of-face made my laugh gradually get lower but never failed to make a remark soon after. I thought of someone and so I tried to casually ask her about it. “How are you and Min? Was Korea that good? Just wanted to ask because I’m scared to get into their hospital” I shrugged it off but saw her eyebrow raise. Of course, she always knows what’s up.

“So is this why you’re called Mrs.? Mrs. Lee?” Now it was her turn to laugh. I playfully pouted and narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?” I acted all offended, placing my hand to my chest as if I took it to heart “It’s miss for you, Mrs. friend-zoned” Rolling my eyes and entered my room, her never-ending saga of teasing me continued.

An hour came by after packing all my things left in the hospital room and we talked about our lives. She still never told me a single thing about Min because of her chattiness. We got in the car and went to the airport. My flight has been called and so I had to leave.

“Wish we could’ve spent more time. I’ll come back soon anyways after visiting the hospital” she hugged me so tight causing me to be so confused.

“Min.. I tried to talk to him” I looked at her in the eye asking for some problems that happened years before. Though no words that came out of her were expected.

“But he didn’t want to hear anything about you”

Hours came by like a flash but my thoughts filling out my mind went by for years. I arrived at my destination but is this truly where I am destined to be in? I knew there was something much more than her words because her voice was shaky.

I didn’t leave a single minute to go by my hospital though. Work always comes by my mind. But usually, I would hang by the café in your building hoping to see you pass by. There were no people because I was busy studying late at night after the closing time. It was scary, but I was too busy to notice.

“I miss you! I’ll come by soon, okay? You better wait for me, sweetie. Love you, take care!” I smiled after hearing my patient’s voice. She was a lovely kid and it seems like I wasn’t the only one missing her as well. It had just been a day yet Yeina has been panicking through the whole call.

“Got a boyfriend now?” The one who talked suddenly came up near my seat and giggled. It was cute but I was busy closing all my documents. Besides, it was not that important. I responded unknowingly but was cut after hearing the voice.

“No, it was my patient. She’s a cute kid” I looked up and God-, was that the biggest thing I regretted but enjoyed at the same time. The guy I waited for years was the same guy who didn’t want to hear anything that involves me. The guy who didn’t want to talk, approached me first with the same smile as if nothing happened. I don’t know what to feel nor what to say. It took whole 5 minutes of me trying to smile awkwardly.

“So, no hugs, internationally known surgeon who cured people around the world for the guy who is loved by his lovely fans?” You looked at me shocked but smiled as soon as I got back to my senses. Everything still remained vivid in your head when I thought it wouldn’t be.

I went up to you and cried in your embrace. The same warmth, it never changed even after all those years. “I thought you had forgotten” I tried to explain though it came out as short phrases because of my sobs. You held my head to nuzzle near your neck and caressed my hair, patting in between.

“Thank you for waiting even in tough times. You did good, doctor”

[WEEKS LATER]

Yes, it just had been weeks. Everything was good but turned downhill soon after. I don’t know what’s hitting on you because you just turned.. off.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?” I yelled after you constantly trying to ignore me. “Wow, so now you’re deaf?” I exclaimed as I held on to your arm and making you turn around and face me.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway!” Loud shoutings were just everything that was heard in the room. I am patient but was frustrated that moment you took on that dumb decision.

“So now I was wrong here? YOU QUITTED THAT FKING JOB OF YOURS BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE IT? YOU FELT BORED? The world doesn’t adjust for you! It’s not like you are the reason why the Earth revolves! It’s not easy to find a new goal and get it as soon as possible!” I expressed all my thoughts because things weren’t matching up. Who the hell leaves something just because he or she was bored? I felt like there was something more to it but why do you seem so nonchalant about it? It was that easy of a decision to make?

“SHIT!” You grabbed the vase and smashed it on the floor. That shocked me. I was clearly shaking yet I tried to stand by my point.

“Why did you come back here anyway?” I felt the world stopped. No, because he was actually true. Why did I come back here? Expecting that the love of my life would be the same even when it had been years he didn’t bother to call? Even after all these years, the guy I waited for would remain the same? After all the dating issues, he would stay irrelevant and think of me every day? I was just a surgeon not even known worldwide. Who am I to him?

“You’re right. I’m nothing to you anyway.” I packed up quickly placing all of my clothes unorganized. It was easy to get into someone but how is leaving not the same?

You tried calling me out but I left due to my blind optimism over the week. I came back to Korea but you soon got me with all those sorry. That was just a single moment that left a scar on me deeply. But now that I think of it, I was used to it because you were an on and off switch

The first day of a week you asked me out on a date then suddenly you claimed to have forgotten about it. You’d tell me how much you loved me, yet add me to the list of traitors who wouldn’t understand a single thing. It was basically just a love or leave me game of yours. It went on for months that I was tired of it. Sick of everything else but you suddenly turned nice again. I waited for the moment you would hate me as usual but it never came by. Was it because you finally realized how much you had hurt me or were you trying to be nice because you were planning a sudden break-up. Maybe a Dear Jane letter? I was scared because I feel like it was more of the latter.

But after all the overthinking, another unexpected thing came by. You spoke the words:

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through after everything I’ve done. It hurts so bad and I don’t want to see you taking all that pain anymore. I never had forgotten about you not even a single bit of my life. I made decisions that could lessen your pride and was also close-minded with all your opinions. But my love for you stays true which is why I wanted to stop seeing you cry. The only tears I’ll ever allow you to shed is the one I needed all my life. The words I wanted to wait for you on. This might be the most clichè thing you’ll ever see, but will you marry me?”

I could never get over that preparation of yours. Because who’d knew you were actually into those surprises? I looked at the ring and smiled at it. How precious this is to me. But time surely passes by fast.

Looking at myself in a white gown, we passed by on lots of obstacles but it felt like yesterday even though it took even years to convince my mother and bless the marriage. She allowed but was forced to.

I still remembered how my mom used to hit me several times every day just to understand if there was something wrong with my head, but apologized soon after because she believed my father was watching from heaven. Mom had many beliefs and one of them was to ask my father whether to accept me. She used to tell me with not a missing day left aside, “run as fast as you can”. Up until now, I find it too hilarious.

“Aren’t you rushing too much? You’re still nineteen” the one who placed my natural makeup on, whispered in my ear.

That was what I was scared of. I was anxious about getting hurt at 19 what more if I was getting married then it went downhill when I was 19? But you were a risk I was willing to take every day, so why not? I know you’ll stay true to your words, I just know so.

“No” I responded short and smiled at myself for acting so brave with my thoughts. I went out of the hall and looked up to my mother who was dressed up so nicely. Sure, the girl who took time dressing me up, definitely did not say she wouldn’t attend if I marry Minho. I sarcastically remarked at her logic.

“So where’s that guy? It’s been 15 minutes since the guests have arrived!” She placed her hand on her hip and tapped her feet on the floor impatiently.

“Ma, he will arrive” I assured my mother and hugged her after I saw a glimpse of tears on her face. Of course, she raised me, and to finally see me with a guy who will take care of me then, she would be brought into tears. She told me once, before the wedding starts, all her thoughts including how she was sad about me leaving but happy about me finding and receiving the love I am willing to fight for. She doesn’t show it as much but she knows how much of a good guy Min is.

“You’ll be Mrs. Lee minutes later!” I found Lisa near the entrance and hugged her. “I told you we would have the same last name years ago!” she continued

Minutes came by and indeed you look handsome in a tux. Everything was worth the wait. You were worth waiting for. We’ve said our vows that express our love would remain until forever runs out, and it was truly you and I together against the world.

[PRESENT]

At least that is what was supposed to happen.

Your dumb-ass mind left me hanging and crying on the white dress. Everything was prepared and you suddenly decided not to show up? You were claiming you had forgotten? What kind of excuse is that? You were no doubt an expert on saying sorry. Just because, you were an exception when it comes to me not being forgiving. Just because, you’d know how to get me back. With a single smile, sorry, that’s it! My mind would start to revolve once around you, playing hide and seek or chase. I was always the one chasing and I’m tired of having to run a hundred miles just to get that love I wanted, which you never wanted to give anyway. It’s all you and your sick need of giving love and taking it away.

Don’t you think I was too young to be messed with? The girl in a white dress who was supposedly having fun on her grand day, went away and started crying? I should’ve followed what my mom said. You should’ve known and I should’ve seen. I was played, you were the one who controlled the game.

“Where will you take me, Alice?” Truly, it’s hard to have feelings for a guy who is the brother of your best friend. If things go wrong, then clearly your friendship is over.

“To him” you responded shortly, tightening your grip on my wrist.

“Stop. I don’t want to go.” I forced her hand off me and whined in a frustrated manner because clearly, you screwed up Alice.

“Could you please stop?! I’m sick of this! He doesn’t have to hide it forever!” You looked away and continued dragging me as soon as I stopped. Hiding what now?

I don’t know what to say when I meet you. Scratch that, I didn’t even want to meet you anymore. Because what if this habit of mine comes up and actually accepts you? I’m tired of it but there’s just something that makes me want to hold onto the love or something that isn’t in you anymore.

You took me in a place so questionable as you stopped and cried. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and yet you say it was the right place. That can’t be, right? How did this happen? Shaky hands, dry throat, words don’t come out my lips. “I’m sorry” I didn’t know why that was the only thing that escaped from my tongue. I did not accept it yet because I belived that wasn’t reality.

Lisa took me to a hospital in which I saw you laying down, unconscious.

I could do nothing but curl down. I was hurt but I never did ask for this. “Alicia, since when?”

“The doctor told me he had cancer way before you went back to Korea. This is why he didn’t want me to talk about you because he gets hurt and couldn’t even imagine what you would do in lengths just to cure him. He used to joke about how you loved him the same way he did. Side effects? Memory loss, sudden mood swings. You know, he was the same guy you knew in the past. Except, he had gotten braver of leaving you behind just so you wouldn’t get into more pain as to seeing his condition. He was very open but he thought of decisions way better when it comes to you than of himself. He loved you every single day of his life and I do know how he misses your touch, crying himself to sleep. He faced a much harder life, missy. As to the wedding, he said he had forgotten about it but it was more due to the reason of having a husband that wasn’t able to take care of until the end of the world, when he promised you to. It was because of a guy not being able to see you getting known worldwide nor exposing you in all medias, when he wanted you to. It was because of a man who simply wanted you to be happy, because he needed that too.”

This is the point where my world started to crash. It wasn’t you who should’ve known. It was me. I should’ve been there at times you need someone to rely on. I based on my selfishness and need for love, not knowing that what I need was the thing that kept me from hurting. I’m sorry for misunderstanding. I’m sorry for making things harder for you. I’m sorry for not opening up all my thoughts about you. I’m sorry because I left you fighting against the world, and I stood by just watching. I felt as if I was the person who was miserable and yet it was you who was trying to act tough.

Lisa continued to tell all those hidden words of yours “I even remembered the time he continued blaming himself for hurting you but concluded that it was everything that he could do. His situation isn’t something that can be fixed and he knows about that even if he wasn’t told about the months he have left. He told me that once you come back and see how bad of a person he is for leaving you all alone and asking you to wait, I am allowed to tell you everything once you’ve moved on.” The girl I’m talking with continued crying filling out the silence I make.

It was a shock and seeing you were the only thing that made me cry deeply. I couldn’t breathe as my chest weighed heavily. I grasped my shirt as I was desperately needing to calm down. But none of this sight made me calm down. I understood the situation I did, but it was too far, in reality, to keep it in check. You were unconscious and Lisa wanted to let me see you before your last breath. Standing up, I cried up to you.

“Idiot” I sniffed, Trying to act strong and let it all out but that’s everything I could only say. “You said our story was cliché. What happened to the true love’s kiss that wakes one up?” I kneeled down and held your hand with the ring that was encircling your fingers. I felt the cold air as tears continued flowing. I kissed your hand and gulped, crying helplessly. Is there really nothing I could do?

“The last time he saw you were way back you were able to smile again. He said it was a blissful sight to see and he would be happy even if that were to be the last time.” Lisa explained and cried her heart out as well after seeing such a painful sight.

“You do know you can see me every day right? Wouldn’t that be nice?” I tried to persuade an unconscious body who can’t hear my words. “Hey, wake up” I clasped our hands together and entwined both. “I’m here, so wake up. I’ll be with you until the end okay?” The volume of my talks gradually decreases but I still believe you can open your eyes up. I know so. I know that at this very time you could still see me and hug me, letting me feel the same warmth I needed once again. “I’ll be with you and it’s still going to be you and I against the world. Cliché right? I know you’ll never miss a chance to tease me when I take that cheesy statement. So please do. Please wake up and talk to me once again. I am here for you.. always and forevermore”

I closed my eyes and heard the beeping of the machine. I looked at you and the monitor that showed a single, straight line. I sighed deeply and my heartbeat is everything I could hear. Repeating your name, demanding you to wake up but all I could do at the end of the day is being so helpless. Even my optimism couldn’t change my mindset yet I was hopelessly begging to see your loving eyes as Lisa and the other staff held me out of the ward for the doctors to take care and clean up everything.

I wished to see those eyes I never noticed years ago. I didn’t know whether it was my selfish act or optimism that kept me not noticing all those details but if only I could see those once again, I could’ve lessened your pain before you disappeared. I was wrong but even up to this end, I hope you know that I love you and forever will do, Min.

I see it all now that you’re gone, don’t you think I was too young to be messed with? The girl in the dress cried the whole way home

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huntertales · 4 years

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Part Two: Watch Your Tone With Me, Boy. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,533.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You slipped the knife back into the waistband of your jeans and adjusted your jacket when you saw Ruth visibly relax a little bit to see that it was just you. And not some ghost that was supposedly haunting this place. You were an avid believer in the fact that every home had its own set of spirits and secrets. Eventually they struck without warning, but never without reason. It was your job to find out and put a stop to it before someone else could get hurt. Lucky for you, Ruth was more than a local. She knew the ins and outs of this farm since she was little. And even better, the tragic history from the previous owners and how Jack was tangled up in all of this mess.

"I grew up in this town. I used to come up here as a little girl. The Wasserlaufs—Howard and Doreen—they used to own this farm back then. My co-worker, Jack, may he rest in peace," Ruth began to give you a bit of backstory to help explain things a little better. Ever the religious woman, she made a swift quick sign of the cross in hope he might be at peace after suffering his time on earth. "He worked here as a farmhand. Howard was a nice man, but…”

Ruth never liked to talk ill of the dead. You could tell from the hesitation in her voice and how she trailed off for a second before going back to the story. “Well, he’d get into that corn liquor. And one night he got it into this thick skull that Jack and his wife, Doreen, were rolling around in the hay. It wasn’t true—but Howard’s paranoia got the best of him. He tried to kill the both of them. Jack got away, but Doreen…”

“He killed her?” You asked, taking a guess of how this story ended.

“With a meat cleaver.” Ruth whispered, nodding her head. You psychically winced at the gruesome details of a life cut short. “Which for Howard ended a year ago. He always swore he’d get his revenge on poor, old Jack, and...it looks like he finally got it.”

A year was plenty of time for a spirit to grow powerful enough to seek his revenge that he wasn't able to get while still alive. The pieces were starting to come together. You thought there was no one else to blame, there was no need to. Ruth had been nothing but helpful to you. Still, there was one more question you wanted to ask her. An odd one that made her look at you with a confused expression. "Is Howard buried in town?"

+ + +

You and the boys headed to the cemetery during the usual time when the sky was pitch black and everyone was asleep in this little town. Easy access with no chance of anyone disrupting you form the several laws you were about to break. While you stood over the grave with sore arms from doing your share of digging, the brothers continued with the rest of the work under the light from the small lamp you brought out here. Most of the digging had been in complete silence with the occasional sigh and grunt from shoveling down six feet beneath the earth. You found yourself leaning against your own shovel and drifting to your own thoughts.

Ever since you left Sonny's home, you kept wondering why Dean kept this place a secret for so many years. He wasn't much of a talkative person about his past unless it was for a funny story or if he was feeling particularly vulnerable, which happened rarely for you. Sam was finding himself caught up with his own personal questions. He had been lied to for years about a story that didn't seem like such a big deal just to tell the truth. He wanted to know why his brother kept up this lie for so long. You had a sneaking suspicion there was more to this story than Dean was admitting to, or wanted.

"So...Dad didn't want you to tell me." Sam decided to strike up a conversation when he threw another pile of dirt into the growing one just a few feet from where you stood. His growing curiosity was hard to ignore anymore. Sam decided it was the best time to strike now before all of you headed back home. He needed to know the truth. "How come? was this place really so bad?"

"I don't really remember." Dean said. At first it sounded like another little lie to get himself out from talking about this any further. He felt the need to give you and his brother a peace of mind to keep from dragging this out more than it needed to. "I mean, look, nobody bad touched me. Nobody burned me with their smokes, or beat me with a metal hanger. I call that a win."

You furrowed your brows slightly from his examples. You peered down into the grave where Dean caught your concerned expression when the both of you made eye contact for a second when he threw another shovel of dirt into the pile. "I'm afraid to ask if anyone actually ever did that to you."

"No." Dean mumbled without much of a thought, hoping you'd drop it. Only the same expression remained on your face as you wondered if he was telling the truth. "No! No, Y/N. No one beat me. I was kidding. Besides, if anyone tried to lay a hand on me back in the day, it'd be the last thing they ever did."

Sam chuckled when he caught your eye roll at his brother's attitude that hadn't changed much since his teenage years. Dean felt his shovel hit something hard from the thunking sound he heard when trying to dig up another pile of dirt. You leaned over the grave a little more to see the boys had finally found the coffin. Sam did the honors of lifting open the lid to reveal a corpse that was well past the decomposition stage. You grabbed the supplies you needed while the boys made their way out of the grave for you to complete the final step.

Your favorite part of burning a body was pouring the lighter fluid and salt over the body, a strange cocktail mix you had grown accustomed to doing as your part of the hunt when spirits were involved. The easiest part of a salt and burn while the boys were stuck with the manual labor. You mumbled a thanks to Dean when he handed you a book of matches and his lighter, the last thing you needed to wrap up this hunt.

"All right." Dean said. "Let's barbecue old McDonland here, get the hell out of Dodge."

You flicked the lighter and watched as a small flame ignited from doing such, allowing you to catch fire to the book of matches. You threw them into the grave when you saw the orange hues grow enough for you to be confident the body would catch fire as well. Like the dozens of times you had done this before, you watched from a safe distance as the corpse quickly burst into flames from the fluid. If you ignored the several laws you were breaking and the smell of human flesh, the fire during a cold night like this was refreshing. You placed your hands over the fire and rubbed your hands together, smiling in amusement when Dean rolled his eyes at your behavior.

+ + +

The next morning you hoped to be back on the road and halfway to the bunker already, instead Dean wanted to stick around for breakfast at some local diner. You were a little bit annoyed at the change of plans he made without telling you or Sam. His brother didn't oppose the idea of having a warm meal for a change. You were tired from being up all night burning the damn corpse, Dean seemed a bit too cheerful. It wasn’t like him. Normally the trick took a few cups of coffee and an hour of being up for him to stop using grunts as forms of words.

You scanned the menu to see if there was anything decent here you might want. To you, it seemed like every family run diner you’ve been to, and you’ve been to a lot from the years you spent on the road. Dean had a deeper connection to this place, it was the spot where Sonny took him after a month of staying at the farm. A tradition for every boy. For some reason it felt more special to the older Winchester than he realized until coming back here.

He remembered the conversation shared with the older man over the best pancakes he ever tasted. Both of them discussed things that felt like something Dean should've been able to do with his own father. The littlest of things that were normal for most people, but to Dean, the topic of conversations like how he was doing in school and how he was overall, were strange and new territory. They were the stupidest things that made Dean feel like a teenager for the first time in his life—and not some kid who was forced to watch his brother for weeks at a time. Who spent days worrying if his parental figure was going to make it back alive. Sonny even opened up a bit about himself and the life he had back in the day.

"Dean, you know I'm fine just grabbing a burger to go somewhere, right?" You turned the menu around to see if there was anything that you wanted, but for some reason you just weren't in the mood for anything offered. "Besides, I wanted to get home sooner than later. I'm tired. I miss my own bed.”

"What, and miss out on the best banana pancakes you ever had? Come on, sweetheart. Live a little." Dean's infectious behavior didn't seem to rub off on you like he'd hoped. You glanced up from the menu to see his eyes weren't focused on you like you thought, instead they were wandering over to the busy counter. A frown stretched across your lips when you saw him eyeing one of the waitresses. "You can take a nap in the car."

"Mmhm. I'm sure that's the reason." You muttered to yourself.

The waitress seemed to be more than just a pretty face that caught Dean’s eye, on the rare occasion that it happened. She appeared to be about your age and overly friendly among her customers, as if she’d been doing this her whole life. After passing by a few tables and checking up on things to make sure everything was all right, she headed her way over to your direction, greeting the three of you with a welcoming smile, pen and pad ready to take your breakfast order. It took you a second to realize Dean must’ve known her from back in the day before he could say something.

"Hi. Welcome to Cus's.” She greeted all of you. “What can I get you three?"

"Bet you've never thought you'd see me here, huh?" Dean offered the woman a little too friendly of a smile he’d flashed her plenty of times during their teenage years. You remained quiet as you watched the interaction unfold, curious as to how this was going to play out.

Robin, from what gold name tag pinned to her shirt read, didn't return the overly friendly smile. She merely stared at him, wondering if she was supposed to remember him. "Uh, look, I'm a little bit slammed right now." She said. "Do you guys want to hear the specials?"

"Robin...Dean Winchester." He introduced himself to the woman, hoping it might spark a memory in her. You and Sam looked over at one another for a brief moment from the awkward interaction before focusing your attention back to the unraveling conversation that wasn’t heading in the direction Dean hoped for. "I used to live up at Sonny's farm."

"Oh, oh. Uh, look, sorry. There's just so many boys that pass through there, it's hard to remember every name and face." Robin apologized for failing to remember someone from well over a decade ago. You bit the inside of your cheek from the way Dean's face immediately dropped in embarrassment from the way he was acting.

"Yeah. Uh, no. Sorry, I just—I remember you coming up there with your mom. She'd give us guitar lessons. It's uh," Dean shifted around in his seat as he told of a memory that you'd never heard of before. You perked up at hearing how Dean learned guitar. He never told you that. You were suddenly intrigued to hear more, curious even more now of how Robin played into all of this. And how well he knew her from the way he was suddenly acting. "It was a long time ago."

"Yeah. Mom—she loved helping out the boys." Robin said, a small smile crossing her lips at the mention of the woman. You offered one yourself when she looked around at the table, retelling of a fond memory at least shared between the both of them. "I guess that's why I kept giving lessons after she passed."

The conversation slowly veered into another pause of awkward silence as Robin and Dean's eyes darted back and forth between one another, not sure if full eye contact was appropriate. You bit the inside of your cheek from how the atmosphere was changing. Dean felt as if he'd made a fool of himself, Robin was embarrassed at the fact she didn't remember him. Luckily before things could get worse, Robin heard her name being called by another person on staff, needing help somewhere else. The woman excused herself with a polite smile before dashing off elsewhere.

“Dude…”

“Let’s go.”

Dean didn’t want to waste another second here after a simple conversation nosedived into something mortifying. He didn’t know why he felt like such an idiot. You and Sam followed after the man when he snatched his jacket from the back of his chair and beelined for the door without saying anything else. So much for having those pancakes.

You slipped on your jacket as you picked up the pace to try and catch up with Dean, wanting to know why he was suddenly acting so upset. You could put the pieces together on your own, but you wanted to be sure what you were about to say was the right thing. And you always liked to dig a little deeper into things that never quite concerned you. It was in your nature.

"What was that all about?" You asked. Dean rolled his eyes from your pestering, shooting it down with a one worded answer that he hoped would make you drop the conversation once and for all. Of course it didn’t, for it only fueled your curiosity even more. “And don’t tell me it's ‘nothing.’ Because it was obviously something.”

“Who was that waitress?” Sam questioned his brother, deciding to join in for himself.

“Is she an ex-girlfriend of yours or something?” You pressed for more when a teasing smile crept on the ends lips at the way Dean stiffened at the mention. “Come on. I’m not jealous.”

"I said it was nothing, Y/N, all right? Drop it."You could tell by the tone of Dean's voice he wasn't in the mood to play this childish game anymore with you. It was your turn to roll your eyes from the way he was acting. You reached out to open up the backseat door as Dean's phone continued ringing. Finally answering it, you heard the familiar name of Sonny come out of the older Winchester's mouth, followed by a reaction from a call that wasn’t to congratulate you on a job well done. "What?!"

+ + +

You and the boys headed back to the farm after hearing the disheartening news of Ruth's strange passing. You thought the case was wrapped up for good, but it seemed the person whom you thought was to blame for all of this was the wrong target. Someone else was to blame. You watched as the coroner's van pulled away with Ruth's body after they took a look around the scene for themselves to figure out what happened. You overheard the hushed conversation among the officers who suspected it was most likely an accidental drowning. She probably fell asleep in the bathtub. While the cause of death might have been correct, their hypothesis of how it happened was wrong. There was nothing accidental about this.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest in frustration. Whenever someone else fell victim to the creature you were trying to hunt, it was the worst feeling of all. You let another innocent person die. You had been so sure. Ruth told you herself. She was set on the fact that Howard would get his revenge. And if he was to blame for this, it didn’t make sense of how she died this morning when you burned the man’s bones last night. Someone else was to blame for this. And you needed to find out quickly before another person suffered a terrible fate.

“I tried to get in to save her, but the damn door wouldn’t open.” Sonny told you the story himself about what happened this morning, finding it all a bit strange from an invisible force that wouldn’t let him in. Sam wondered if it was because the door happened to be locked. A woman must’ve wanted privacy while she took a bath, but locks weren't a privacy the boys on his farm were allowed to have. Which made things even stranger. “There’s no locks on the farm.”

Dean let out a sigh from the situation that was only growing crappier. “That means our little field trip to the cemetery was a bust.” He muttered. Sonny gave a slightly confused look as to what the hell you were doing there in the first place. He decided it was best not to ask. “Sonny, is there anything else weird you can remember?”

“What, ‘cause we’re not already chest-deep in weird already, kids?” Sonny asked.

“I know, I know.” Dean said. “I mean anything—really.”

“There was one thing.” Sonny suddenly remembered now, feeling it might be important for you to know, and hoping it might help. “Ruth always had her rosary beads with her, but now I can’t find them anywhere.”

"All right. Let's start with the vics, okay? I mean, both lived in the house. They both worked closely with the boys." Sam listed off a few similarities between Ruth and Jack that might tie in the reason why they were targeted in the first place. It wasn’t much of a solid thread, but you had to admit a small lead was better than nothing.

“Why don’t Y/N and I go have a chat with the rugrats, see what’s up?” Dean suggested. You nodded your head in agreement. “Play bad cop, worse cop.”

The both of you headed off to go search around the grounds to see if you might be able to find any of the boys to ask them a few questions. You figured most of them weren't doing their daily responsibilities Sonny gave them from all the commotion that went down earlier. It wasn't hard to find a few boys when you heard a set of voices echoing not too far from where you and Dean were standing, and from how the conversation was unfolding, it was anything but playful banter between friends.

“Come on, whatcha gonna do about it? You gonna cry?”

“Timmy, you’re such a little weirdo.”

Dean picked up the pace when he heard a familiar name dropped, making him realize who the two older kids were tormenting. You followed right behind to see the older man come to the rescue of a young boy who was cornered by two older and larger ones, making for an unfair fight to protect himself. Dean shoved the two boys away from who you guessed was Timmy before they could try and inflict anymore harm.

“Timmy, what’s going on?” Dean asked the young boy, hoping for some kind of answer. The kid remained where he stood, cowering in his spot against the house, as if he was too afraid to speak in front of the bullies. The older man decided he’d get back to the kid in a minute, for now he focused his attention on the others. “All right, you two. Where were you this morning when Ruth had her accident?”

“Unless you’re a cop, we don’t need to tell you anything.” The taller one of the two bullies thought he was funny when he replied with a sarcastic comeback. You chuckled in amusement from how tough the kid thought he was. He was about to be in for a rude awakening.

“Rude and smart. Well, guess what.” You took it upon yourself to pull out your fake badge from your pocket and flashed it to them, Dean doing the same in a more aggressive fashion when he got dangerously close. As if he was proving a point that he wasn’t fooling around. He was the worst cop in this situation. “Now, since you two obviously love running your mouths, why don't you answer our questions?"

“We weren’t even here this morning. Sonny sent us into town to get some chicken feed—we swear.” The kid said, making sure to add the last part when you gave them both a glaring expression their parents lacked to give from their foul behavior.

“What about Ruth?” You asked them. “What can you tell us about her?”

“We used to call her the warden.” The shorter, skinner bully answered. “She was a real bible thumping hard-ass.”

“Obviously. What else?” Dean pressed for more information that might be useful. “Anything different or weird you can think of?”

“You mean besides Timmy?” You rolled your eyes when one of the bullies thought it was funny to try and go for a jab when you and Dean were standing right here, you had enough of their juvenile behavior. So did Dean from the reaction they were able to get out of him.

“Hey. Either one of you touch him again, I’m gonna go all Guantanamo on you. Understand me? Now get the hell out of here.” Dean’s threat made the smile on the bullie’s face quickly drop from how serious he sounded. “Go on! Get!” It didn't take much else for the two boys to go running off somewhere else where they'd be useful. You let out a sigh before turning your attention over to Timmy. The poor kid was able to finally step out from the corner he was backed into and pick up his action figure. Dean made his way over to the kid, wanting to make sure he was all right. "Hey. You and Bruce okay?"

“Yeah.” Timmy was soft spoken, obviously still shaken up about what just unfolded.

"I want you and Bruce to meet someone." Dean said. You realized this Burce was the action figure Timmy was holding. You felt a smile grow on your lips at how natural Dean was around Timmy, they must've shared a moment together when you were here last. "This is Y/N. She's helping me find out what's going on around here."

“Very nice to meet you both.” You greeted the kid with a warm smile. You stretched out your hand for Timmy to take it, not expecting much. Most his age either would ignore you or give a limp shake. But the kid did it properly, even better than most. Firm and exactly like how Dean taught him. The older man smiled to himself at how the lesson paid off.

“Listen to me. I wanna tell you something important.” Dean crouched down so he was at eye level with the kid, wanting to make sure he felt like he was being treated like an equal. Not looked down upon. “Guys like that—they’re cowards, okay? All you got to do is stand up to them one time and they’ll stop, I promise.”

"You can trust this guy." You reassured Timmy, softly nudging Dean to help further prove his point. "You don't have to be big and strong to defend yourself, kid. All it takes is guts. And I bet you have lots of them."

Timmy seemed to have started feeling better from the smallest of smiles that crept across his lips at your kind words. You were happy to see the kid was able to brush off the situation and go back to his daily chores. While Dean went to find the rest of the kids, what few of them were left, you decided to head back to the house to help Sam with the files to cut down on time. You needed to find out who was behind this before someone else got hurt.

As you made your way back to the house, the layout of the farm started to grow a little bit familiar to you, you looked around to see the chaos of this morning was starting to slowly drift away. The boys were getting back to their chores and life picked back up again. You found yourself slowing down to take in more of the sights around this place, how many things that needed to be done in order to keep this place properly running. Not to mention little things around the house that made it personal. For some reason you must've overlooked the wall of awards and trophies hanging by the stairs.

“Looks like you found our hall of fame.” You turned your head away from examining all the different sorts of awards that ranged from academic achievements to sports trophies from countless boys over the years to see Sonny had spotted you. He came up and stood next to you, looking over the achievements the kids he looked after got. “We had some pretty great athletes come through here, including Dean.”

“Wait, really?” You followed the direction Sonny’s finger was pointing to find out what Dean had won an award for. You broke out into a smile at learning something else about the man you never would’ve guessed might have been an interest of his.

“He was Sullivan County hundred and thirty-five pound wresting champion.” Sonny said.

Hearing the accomplishment Dean was able to make on his own during his stay here made you happy, but at the same time, overwhelmed with sadness. Sonny sounded so proud of the kid for what he was able to do. But all you could think about was how John handled the news. Did Dean ever tell all of his adventures to his father, only to be brushed off as things that were nice—but not logical. It didn't fit the narrative of what John wanted for his boys. The reality of how he thought things needed to be. You were starting to slowly understand why Dean wanted to keep this place a secret, and not his father.

[Next Part]

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sunset-telepath · 4 years

Text

Why I hate Ro

So, I was asked to explain why I hate Ro. And I’ve been compilating several arguments that I’ve heard and written myself. And I’d like to put a disclaimer here - it’s not because she’s this “sokeefe idol.” It’ just... her character and what she does in support of sokeefe.

Disclaimer: I’m condensing several conversations that I, JaxTheShade, and [Redacted due to them not wanting to be credited] had on the wiki about a month ago. Around 40% of these ideas are mine, 40% are Jax’s, and 20% are [Redacted]’s.

Right off the bat, she’s a misandrist. She quite literally calls boys as stupid as amoeba in Legacy. You can say that that was a joke, but it’s not funny. It’s not okay to blatantly call anyone or generalize any group stupid. It’s not ok. It’s the exact same thing as saying that women belong in the kitchen or that blacks are criminals. It’s not ok. It’s disgusting, despicable, and repugnant behavior.

In the Flashback Short Story, she objectifies Sophie as a prize for Fitz and Keefe to fight over. What the actual f***. That is not acceptable behavior under any circumstances. It’s repugnant, disgusting, detestable, and f****** evil. Treating any person as a prize to fight over is textbook objectification and it is blatantly evil. It is not ok. And it’s disgusting that this narrative has leaked into some of the fanfics that I’ve read. THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS NOT EXCUSABLE. IT IS EVIL.

She flat out bullies Fitz. She alludes to him being a nasty microbe in Legacy. She ridicules his desire to perfect himself. There is nothing wrong with being or trying to be perfect. Don’t push yourself too hard trying to be perfect, but if you should always strive to be better (and if you’re naturally talented like Fitz is, achieve your dreams. Fulfill your potential. Ignore the haters). She mocks and bullies him, calling him names and ridiculing his desire to be perfect. Newsflash: There’s nothing wrong with trying to be perfect. Who the hell is Ro to decide how perfect someone can be? Who the hell does Ro think she is? As a perfectionist myself, I despise Ro and her adversity to perfection. It’s not her place to decide how perfect a person can be. I admire Fitz simply shrugging her off and not letting her flat-out abuse get to him. It’s the proper way to deal with people like her.

Her entire character can be summed up as a chronic-complainer who ships Sokeefe. Shannon basically turned the Instagram Fandom into a character and made it Keefe’s Bodyguard. She never confesses to making mistakes and she’s never humbled or knocked down a peg. 30% of her dialogue can be attributed to complaining about sparkles or “elf-land,” 20% of it can be attributed to her flat-out bulling Fitz, and 50% of it can be attributed to her pushing Sophie and Keefe together. None of the characters like her. The other bodyguards detest her, Bo wants to kill her, Fitz thinks that she’s awful, Sophie is embarrassed by her, and Keefe wants her to shut her mouth.

She’s blunt, she’s rude, and she’s just awful. She interferes with a relationship that is none of her business. She has no regard for the emotional abuse that she inflicts. Ro and Keefe are very similar, and clash often. Ro always wins, however, either because she’s stronger than him or because she can emotionally manipulate him. (These sound like big claims now, but they’re backed up later)

Ro dismisses Sophie by saying that “blondie doesn’t know what she feels.” And it’s disgusting. She’s objectified by “blondie” - a term focused on Sophie’s appearance rather than by her personality. She’s Sophie Elizabeth Foster, not “blondie.” She dismisses Sophie as naïve and disregards her feelings by saying that Sophie’s doesn’t know what Sophie feels.

~The Following Section was directly quoted from JaxTheShade because he summarized it so well~

Well...no, Ro. She does have an idea of what she feels. In fact, she was ecstatic and perfectly fine with dating and eventually sorting out her issues with Fitz until you started "hinting" about Keefe. Sophie does understand her feelings - and those feelings led her to Fitz. And even if she does have some underlying issue about who she likes (which has admittedly been hinted at), it's up to her to figure it out. Not a brash ogre bodyguard who scoffs at the notion of the Elvin culture and thinks she has a right to intrude in a teenage relationship she isn't apart of.

And Fitz...well, I'm sure Ro doesn't hate him. But she's pretty close to--that's not hard to deduce. Because Ro has ever bothered to pay attention to and sympathize with Keefe ( and yet she still finds a way to neglect his feelings ), she hasn't the slightest inclination of who Fitz is. So, like most people, she decides to consider him "the opposing candidate" in the love triangle and never look past the surface of Fitz, just calling him "Captain Perfect" and thinking that he could never be right for Sophie because he's competing against Keefe.

Sometimes I wish someone, anyone, would call Ro out for amount of sheer insults she layers on Fitz, whether he's there or not. Although most of the time it's done behind his back--what a surprise.

I mean, look at this:

She slyly calls him a 'nasty microbe'. And while some have argued that she wasn't calling Fitz this, she was very clearly expressing her disdain for Sophie's favourite colour being teal--and, by proxy, calls teal things 'nasty'.

“[...] But I thought it was only right to save your imp from being sparkle-fied—and I was going to be nice and turn him your favorite color. But apparently your favorite color is teal—and yeah, yeah, we all know why. But, um, do you realize how many of the nastiest little microbes are that color?” She shuddered. “I couldn’t do that to you—or the little dude. [...]”

Ro also calls him "Captain Perfectpants" and openly admits that Fitz would have problems with all the time Sophie is spending with Keefe. Essentially admitted but disregarding how upset Fitz would be--because who cares about Fitz's feelings when Keefe is having emotional turmoil? And as a little bonus, she also pulls her classic, "I can't take this anymore! I simply have to intervene in this situation of which I'm not apart of!

"Ro snorted. “Of course he would! He’d be super, super jealous!”

“Don’t,” Keefe told her.

“No—I can’t take it anymore!” Ro stalked toward Sophie and tapped her on the nose with a calloused fingertip. “I repeat: Yes, your Captain Perfectpants would be jealous! He scraped together the courage to get all share-y about his feelings, and now you’re ignoring him, and being all mysterious about why, and telling everyone who asks that you’re not dating him. And I’m not saying that’s a bad call. Trust your instincts! Hopefully they’ll lead you out of the oblivion. But in the meantime, count on your teal-eyed Wonderboy feeling a little insecure, particularly if he finds out you’re spending lots of quality time with other dudes. And you know what? That’s good for him. We all know that boy could use a little help in the humility department. So make him sweat a little. And you”—she spun back toward Keefe—“need to stop being so afraid.”

And those are just two instances, of which I can search for plenty more.

Ro is not a good person. She's a rebellious princess who ultimately works for her own gain. She thinks she's got it all figured out with Keefe, and decides that, since he shared his story of liking Sophie, she'll take it upon herself to get them together no matter what.

And I mean 'no matter what'. She has put down Sophie for liking Fitz, interrupted conversations so she can drop hints about Keefe's feelings against his will, and made fun of Sophie for being oblivious--even going to the extent of getting fed up with and blaming Sophie for her oblivion "becoming less and less cute".

She's also tried to actively break up Sophitz and push together Sophie and Keefe. She's insulted Fitz and holds a very hostile disposition towards him simply because he's "perfect boy" who's against the Saint Also Known As Keefe. Ro tries to subtly force Sophie's feelings for Fitz out of her while dropping in some "isn't Hunkyhair so great?". I wouldn't for a second put it past her to succeed in shutting down as many Sophitz moments as possible all so she can continue to ignore the pleas to stop and the embarrassed faces surrounding her.

And her excuse?

"It's the only fun she gets to have here in Elf Land".

She isn't apart of this relationship. She isn't affected by this relationship. She's only seen one side of this relationship, and uses that to base her opinions of the other two. Which is a terrible idea considering that leads to opinions like "Okay, well that other boy is awful because he's the competitor, and that girl must like the boy because the boy likes her, and sometimes she acts shy around him, and that's totally how relationships work".

Ro has absolutely no excuse for the amount of hurt she's inflicted on all three of these teenagers.

And yet she's regarded as a saint amongst all, while people like...say, Alden ( who made mistakes, but ultimately went about it in a calmer, gentler, and more well meaning way--as well as having much more justification and reasoning behind his actions ) are seen as evil and deserving of death. So what's the difference? Is it just because Ro is all for Sokeefe and Alden is really pushing for Sophitz? Have we really sunk low enough to the point where we can adore one character and hate another--despite performing the same actions--simply because of shipping preferences?

Everyone has decided to hate Alden because he showed up to speak with Keefe, ended up getting sidetracked and talking about relationships ( because of Ro, go figure ), sympathized with Keefe and shared meaningful advice from personal identical experiences, and then making sure Keefe knew that he considered him apart of the family.

That was what Alden did. And we have absolutely no reason to believe that Alden was anything but genuine when he stated that he "long considered him part of the family".

And yet Ro is the one who starts ranting about how "he didn't mean it" ( and saying something like that to a teenage boy who never felt loved by his father means a lot--but Ro has to ruin it and say that Alden's words were "a stinking load of garbage" ). Ro is the one whose objectification of the triangle by saying that Keefe being there for his friends is "sabotage" is what sparks Keefe to tell her that Sophie's feelings do matter. Ro is the one who interrupts every conversation by either stating her obnoxious opinion that nobody asked for, or calling a time out so she can bash on Fitz again. Ro is the one who has spent every waking moment since she arrived in the series either making Keefe's desire to be happy for his friends feel invalid, insulting Sophie because she's her own person with her own feelings for someone else, and coming up with every insult under the sun to throw at Fitz. Ro is the one who has no justification for her actions, seeing as she a) is not apart of this triangle, and b) has minimal relationship experience considering both her boyfriends hate her, and one was an arranged marriage.

But...Ro is also the loved and appreciated one.” - JaxTheShade (I’ve been paraphrasing some of the things that he’s said all ready, but I’m directly quoting him for this. His statement is direct and gets to the point)

~End of direct Quote~

I'd like to make one thing clear though - the point of selfishness. There's a stigma to the word that I'd like to clear up, because there are two types of selfishness, rational self-interest, and sacrificing others for yourself.

Fitz is the first type - he has a rational self-interest, he's looking out for himself and his own long-term happiness first. There is nothing wrong with that, if you won't look out for yourself, who will? It's why I completely supported Fitz yelling and breaking up with Sophie - if a relationship is making you unhappy long-term, it is in your best interest to break up with them. It's why Fitz was so adamant about finding Sophie's biological parents, he wanted to avoid future stigma, gossiping, and heckling. Fitz knows how horrible these things are to experience, and so sought to avoid them in the future. This is why Fitz is my favorite character - the others are reactive, Fitz seems to be the only proactive one. (One of the few characters in any literature to be proactive, in fact). While Sophie and the others look at the now and the immediate future, Fitz is concerned with the long-term future, a trait I share with him and one that I rarely see in literature whatsoever, to my vast disappointment.

Ro isn't selfish at all. She's much, much worse - she doesn't meddle in other's affairs for her own happiness, she just does because she can. She has no respect for other's privacy, and throws out insults towards Fitz and Sophie because she just does. She has no motive, impetus, or drive, she just does, and it sickens me.

The second type of selfishness is similar to a bully bullying others because they're miserable and it makes them feel good about themselves. It's horrible and malicious, and I'm not condoning it in any way, but its far more innocent (if bullying can be called innocent) then what Ro does.

Ro is malevolent, she doesn't do it because it makes her feel good, she just does it, with no regard with the relationships and lives she destroys in the process. She's a toxic radioactive waste dump of a person. A toxic waste dump doesn't make people sick and die for their own gain - it just does. That's how Ro is as a person.

Another reason is that she has no regard for what she says or does. She constantly tears Fitz down just because she can (I want Alden to be there next time she tries that. I want Alden to step in and tell her that what she is doing is not okay, because no other character has recognized this so far). I want Alden to be there next time she calls his son a nasty little microbe. I'd like to finally see Ro get some comeuppance for her terrible behavior.

Let's be honest with ourselves - Ro hates Fitz. She hates and complains and whines about how perfect he is. Since when has perfection been a crime? Since when is it up to her to decide the maximum amount of talent a person can have? As a perfectionist myself, I strive for perfection just as Fitz does. There is nothing wrong with striving to perfect yourself - there is if you are actively hurting yourself, but if you're naturally gifted like Fitz is, and you want to be the best you can possibly be, go ahead! Make the most of your innate talent and use it to seek your happiest future. Build & write your own happy ending.

She isn't a part of this relationship. She isn't affected by this relationship. She's actively impeding their ability to seek their own happiness, and not even for her own happiness (which is still horrid), she just does because she's "bored". Her repugnant behavior sickens me.

Ro is a textbook abuser. Let's go over a list of things an abuser does, and see to which characters she applies them to:

Name-Calling: The abuser will blatantly call the abused derogatory adjectives, like stupid or oblivious

We know she does this to Sophie, calling her oblivious. She also twists being perfect into a derogatory adjective, throwing it at Fitz. She also called Fitz a horrible little microbe, along with calling him & Keefe as stupid as amoeba.

Character Assassination: The abuser will use the word "always". You're always oblivious, stupid, late, wrong, etc.

She does this to Sophie, and also somewhat Fitz.

Patronizing: The abuser will be patronizing towards the abused

She does this to Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe.

Belittling: The abuser will belittle the abused

I'm pretty sure she does this to Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe.

Pushing Buttons: Once the abuser finds out what annoys the abused, they will do it nonstop.

Oh boy, does she do this to Keefe and Sophie. (Fitz just gets out of his way to ignore her and avoid her. It's why she's irritated by him, he hasn't opened himself to her and doesn't show flaws allowing her to find ways to sink her nasty manipulating fingers into him)

These are only a few signs of someone being an abuser, and yet Ro manages to hit pretty much all of them.

She gaslights Keefe into believing that Alden is only looking out for himself and his children - something we know to be completely wrong. She's driving a wedge between Keefe and Alden, one of the few other people Keefe respects and thinks looks out for him. The only other parental individual in Keefe's life, in fact, giving Ro total access to Keefe's psyche and making herself the only "true" source of information Keefe can trust. She is a horrible, horrible abuser.

Ro doesn't have benign intentions at heart. She doesn't even have selfish intentions at heart. She just meddles just because she can.

Ro isn’t selfish. She’s just a bad person - for a lack of a better term that would describe her repulsive behavior.

She constantly complains about the elves. Yes, elven culture is a little weird, but you don’t have to complain about it constantly and in-front of the elves.

Ro is also clearly not afraid to gaslight. She forces Keefe to believe that her opinions are the only valid ones. How does she do this? She says that "Blondie doesn't know what she feels," making Keefe think that any emotions he picks up from her are wrong. She says that Fitz is just "Captain Perfect" who doesn't really care about Sophie - that Keefe "deserves" her. She says that Alden's advice is just made up, and that he doesn't really care about him. She’s established herself as the only source of information that Keefe can trust. She’s removed Alden (the one other parental figure Keefe had) and established herself as the only person Keefe can trust. And that is very dangerous and highly abusive.

She even invalidates Keefe's emotions. Every time Keefe stands up to her and says something like "I'm just being a good friend," Ro responds (like any of this is her business) with something snarky. Or, she tells him to "stop being so afraid." And that forces Keefe to believe that his desire to help his friends isn't valid enough. That he isn't valid enough. So he comes crawling back to Ro.

She’s a terrible bodyguard. She threatens to not protect Keefe in Legacy if Sophie doesn’t share her secret with her. THAT IS NOT OK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. SOPHIE DID NOT TRUST KEEFE WITH HER SECRET OF BEING UNMATCHABLE. RO EXTORTED IT OUT OF HER, USING KEEFE AS A LIE DETECTOR. THAT IS NOT OK; IT IS EVIL.

If you re-read the portion in Legacy where she does this, it reveals some truly horrible behavior.

Here’s another direct quote from JaxTheShade explaining why this part is so disgusting:

“Essentially, Ro is blackmailing Sophie.

Sophie just found out that if Keefe goes anywhere near the Neverseen, he will probably die. ( Because at this point, they just thought the legacy thing would kill him ). So she's desperately trying to get Keefe to make a promise and stay away from Gisela. Keefe, in typical fashion, adamantly states that he's not going to be locked up.

This is where Ro steps in.

She says that she will be the one to protect him and make sure he doesn't run off. ( Since she is his bodyguard ). But instead of just...doing her job...she decides that she can exploit the situation. She can get something out of this.

She figured out that Sophie is hiding something. And from the way she hasn't told anyone yet, Ro can assume that she's trying to keep it a secret. But she also knows that Keefe's safety is important to all of them.

So she threatens Keefe's life--yes, threatens--unless Sophie spills her secret. The situation becomes, "I have all the power here, so unless you tell me a confidential secret, I'll let my charge run off into danger, which you can't have. So I know that I've put you into a corner. I know that I've won here."

If this doesn't scream "manipulative abuser", then I don't know what does.

It's disgusting, really. Ro's behaviour is despicable.

And while her blatant blackmail is clearly the worst offense, she also sprinkled in several other "I'm a bad person" actions.

1) She said that the reason Keefe gets away with things is because she "doesn't care enough to fight him" on them. Well, if you don't care, then why don't you just go back to Ravagog? Because Keefe is the second most threatened person their group, and he needs an actual bodyguard, not a manipulative princess who makes him feel even worse about himself. If Keefe gets hurt when he runs off, did he get hurt because you "didn't care enough to bother"?

2) Ro says that she doesn't care that much about him. Well, thanks, Ro. I'm sure that really makes Keefe sleep soundly at night, knowing that you don't really care about him.

3) And why does she not really care about him? Because she only bothers with Keefe as long as he doesn't make her "look bad". She says that the reason she's stopping him this time is because it'll damage her reputation if he dies. You know, instead of being worried about his life.

4) She says "I enjoy meddling". And that's her excuse for blackmailing Sophie into spilling a confidential secret. And yet she has the audacity to accuse Alden of "meddling" while here she sits, admitting it to everyone and acting like it's not a big deal.

5) Her very last line in the quote just further proves that she's just doing this to get Sokeefe to happen. Instead of feeling remorse for Sophie, who is trying not to look at them and clearly uncomfortable, she just brushes off the secret that she just forced out of her by saying that "it should do the trick". The trick being 'getting Fitz to break up with her'.

This is probably Ro's most egregious act yet.

And yet nobody ever seems to call her out for it or even think that...it's a little weird that she would do this.

But I guess it really isn't weird at all, seeing as we've have evidence in the past that proves she would stoop to this level.” - JaxTheShade

That part in Unlocked where Shannon said that (deeeeeeeeeeeep down) Ro cares about Keefe? Well, it’s ooc. Look what Ro says in Legacy: "I may not care that much about what happens to you, but if you get yourself killed on my watch, it makes me look bad—especially if I had advance notice. So, I can’t have that."

Re-read that portion in Legacy. Alarm bells should be going off in your head.

She reminds me of the villain Ellsworth Monkton Toohey from The Fountainhead. Do you know what he did? He turned people into slaves by establishing psychological power over them and making them miserable. By killing their wants, needs, desires, and happiness, he turned people into miserable slaves who would obey his every order. And the scary part? Ro uses the exact. same. tactics. that he does (not going to list them here, that would take far too long) on Fitz, Sophie, and Keefe. And Keefe almost perfectly resembles the characters who fall for his manipulations and tactics, while Sophie and Fitz resemble the characters who ignored him and went about their business. It’s really unnerving.

Everyone is entitled to seek their own happiness - as long as their actions don't impede others from seeking their own happiness.

Ro actively impedes Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe's pursuit of their own happiness, doing it for no other reason than the fact that she's bored. It sickens me.

And the fact that Fitz is basically demonized and hated by the fandom while praising Ro is what sickens me the most.

Ro manipulates, gaslights, and abuses Sophie, Keefe, and Fitz for her own fun. She doesn't have any long term goal, just destroying their psyche and impeding their ability to find their own happiness for short term amusement. She mocks Fitz for being trying to be perfect (since when has that been a crime?), she gaslights and Objectifies Sophie, mocks Keefe and openly abuses him, and interferes with their relationships because she finds it funny. She's also a misandrist. She calls Fitz a nasty little microbe (I want Alden and Della there next time she does that). She objectifies Sophie as a trophy for Fitz and Sophie to fight over. She constantly tears down Fitz and Sophie, and uses a number of tactics abusers use in real life on Fitz, Sophie, and Keefe. She is a radioactive toxic waste-dump of a person, ruining their lives and psyches not even for her own gain, but just for her own amusement. Her further abuse of Keefe is repugnant, her objectification of Sophie is disgusting, and her mocking and bullying of Fitz makes me want to puke. She's a terrible, terrible person.

And that is why I hate Ro.

#kotlc #kotlc ro #ugh I hate Ro #Ro Hate #kotlc discourse

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thedreadvampy · 4 years

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Ok please if you don’t mind saying - who is Stuart semple and what did he do? I’m so confused. Like I recognise the name and I think he might the an artist or something but I have no idea

He is indeed an artist! He’s a English multidisciplinary fine artist best known for his ongoing beef with English sculptor Anish Kapoor over the 2016 exclusive licensing on the process to make Vantablack colour coating, which meant Kapoor was the only artist allowed to use it. Then Stuart Semple made Pinkest Pink pigment and said it was available to everyone but Anish Kapoor, and there was a big blowup which there’s a lot of documentation of - it was very memed.

Since then, Semple has made a bunch more pigments, most of them with the available-to-everyone-but-Anish-Kapoor disclaimer, and the beef periodically flares up, although I will say as time goes on it seems to me to have got increasingly one-sided given that Kapoor has pretty much wandered off.

(I’ve used several of his colours, btw. Pinkest Pink is pretty good. Blackest Black, his attempt to make the blackest possible paint (as opposed to Vantablack which is a nanofibre coating) I was pretty disappointed in, I’ve honestly had better light capture from mid-range art shop paints. His other pigments vary in quality - some I really liked, some I was meh on, but I think Blackest Black is the only one I was actively unimpressed by)

Anyway. Where I come in is much less exciting.

A few months ago I reblogged a post on Tumblr asking about Semple from a discourse tag (my reblog did not tag or @ anyone), and I made a glib comment where I said (very truthfully) that while I thought he was pretty decent at pigments, both his paintings and his online persona came across pretty adolescent to me.

so it turns out Stuart Semple is an inveterate name searcher (hi Stuart if you’re reading this!)

(Side note: I actually should have guessed this from 2019 Twitter when he saw and commented on an untagged thread I wrote about him and Kapoor’s beef (which was because I’d seen an article in which Kapoor, a British-Asian man, said that the racist Prevent strategy was liable to drive young British-Asian men into the arms of terrorist groups by making it clear their country hates them reblogged on Semple’s account with a caption claiming Anish Kapoor was pro-terrorism, which, while tongue-in-cheek, isn’t a neutral statement for a white person to make about an Asian person and was a pretty phenomenally bad-faith reading of Kapoor’s actual words) and in my thread I pretty much said that when the story had broken, I, like everybody else, had found it very funny and been firmly on side with Semple’s bit, but I felt that a) after a couple of years it really wasn’t very relevant any more and it had started to feel less like Fighting The Power and more like bullying the amount of Semple’s web presence was devoted to talking about Anish Kapoor; b) that it was a shame that Anish Kapoor was increasingly only known as The Vantablack Guy given that I really like a lot of his work and c) that continuing to frame a Jewish person of colour as the Face of the Artistic Elite was a bit weird given how overwhelmingly white the high-end art world is. but I digress. Semple responded to that thread, I don’t really remember what he said, it wasn’t an acrimonious response but it was a bit Oh I Didn’t Do Anything To Tag You?)

so anyway he found my reblog and commented saying ehhh I don’t remember, something along the lines of not feeling like I was being very kind and that he was trying his best. also I think he said I had accused him of being racist? which again the actual Tumblr post literally just said I thought his art and persona came across as juvenile and I think in the tags? I mentioned that I thought it was time for him to step off the Kapoor beef.

then he screencapped my post, including my profile picture and username, and posted it on all his socials with a kind of :( people are so mean on Tumblr :( caption and um

idk if you know this about Being A Public Persona With Tens Of Thousands of Followers but. if you post someone’s identity and say ‘I do not like what this person is doing’ it. can get messy fast.

uh I don’t follow Stuart Semple (see the original post I made) but he commented to make sure I knew he’d posted my post on Instagram and “all my followers like your wig :)” which. according to my partner who did go and look at the time, the Instagram comments were largely about how I was an ugly non-passing trans woman aka “man in a wig” which. throw the whole suitcase out. There were a good few days where I got a lot of angry anons, ranging from ‘stop bullying Stuart Semple!!!!!’ to ‘die in a ditch graphically’ to ‘how can you claim to have opinions on art when You Are On Tumblr’ (I have been a freelance illustrator for 7 years and I have a Masters in art and design) to ‘your art sucks and you’re fat and ugly’ and my personal favourite ‘how can u be cis and use she/her pronouns you dumb snowflake’

(within that furore was a whole branch where someone was like ‘sex worker huh bet you’re bad at it’ and I was like ‘yep! that’s why I don’t do it any more! it’s hard work and it involves a lot of self-promotion and customer skills which I don’t like and am not good at!’ and this was a Whole Thing where they kept trying to insult me (much like today’s anon) about my supposed failures as a Slut Who Is Bad At Sex and I kept going like ‘ok but here’s how that just. doesn’t make sense in reference to what sex work actually is so like, ok?’)

and Stuart Semple and I were also having a conversation which, depending on your perspective I would call his attitude either conciliatory or passive-aggressive, there was a lot of ‘me and my followers would never say rude things about you :) keep up the art kiddo :)’ and being charitable I would say he was trying to be nice while being angry, and to avoid escalating (but with the added context I got later about the wig comment, I think that interpretation of his behaviour maybe. has some cracks?) and ultimately he took down the posts, we had a brief conversation about keeping pet reptiles (apparently he has a lizard) and we left it on, if not good terms, at least peaceable ones.

however I still periodically get messages about it from angry Semple stans. and I’m not sure the argument was resolved, in that I still very much think it’s fair to make criticism, including quite harsh criticism (which I’m not sure ‘adolescent’ is), on art which is put out for public display and enjoyment, and that it isn’t a personal attack to post a criticism of someone’s public-facing work and statements on social media unless you actively target it towards them (for example, @ ing them), and Semple still thinks there’s no difference between a random blog with under a thousand followers criticising a public figure’s work and a public figure with 100k followers on most platforms criticising that blog (out of context - he clipped out the post I was reblogging from and my explanatory tags, and looking at my blog you may notice that 90% of my nuance is in the tags) while giving his followers all the information to find said blog.

(also as multiple people have remarked. if you want to say it’s an unfair criticism to call your online presence immature, being a middle-aged artist who as far as I can tell has a net worth over a million who spends your time name searching yourself in order to get mad at untagged mild criticism from strangers on the internet and share it on all your socials for your followers to join you in Being Big Mad is uhhhhhhh. it uh. it’s not like. not super thin-skinned and immature)

(also also I just googled his net worth and unsurprisingly I can’t find a source on it I’d consider reliable, but I did find multiple articles about him getting in trouble for breach of contract and nonpayment for gallery employees, including two accusations of him writing a big defensive blog post then changing it after a few hours to a very short post saying I LOVE YOU so like idk how true that is but it does seem. consistent with the above interactions.)

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