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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years ago

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Look Me in the Heart

Summary: [Mel Edit: I goofed and didn’t put the right summary. I am a fool]

You and Natasha have been together for several years. You want forever, and she’s pulling away.

Features/Warnings: Angst;

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Notes: This is a request from last year that I finally got inspiration to finish. As always, I’m opening to revisiting fics!

Request: “Could I request a Natasha x fem!reader fic please? Like one where Nat x r have been together for years but for the last year or so, R has wanted to get married but Nat keeps saying she’ll never get married. Nat doesn’t pay much attention to her anymore. One day, R, Yelena and Nat meet and Yelena pays a lot of attention to R, making her feel real good and making her blush and giggle every time Yelena compliments her/flirts with her. Nat gets annoyed and calls r out once they’re home (1/2)(2/2) They fight and r tells Nat all she’s been feeling lately. Alone, unloved, just there to be a fucktoy for Nat and nothing else. Nat promises her they’ll get help and they’ll fix their relationship, that she’ll try harder and make an effort. Thank you so much :) xx”

Word Count: 1942

Your fist connected with the bag in front of you. It felt good to release the tension that had been building from everything. Fury was on your ass lately about your mission reports. Steve was on your ass about slacking in your training. And you had been stressed by Natasha’s lack of communication.

You and Natasha had been together for several years, since you’d joined the Avengers, just before the fall of SHIELD. You knew what you wanted, and it was forever with her. The topic of marriage was one the both of you danced around. Last time you had brought it up, she brushed it off. You knew you could live without getting married, but it was something you wanted with her and something you’d wanted for some time. You wanted to be on the same page, to know if it was something to put on the shelf. You’d be okay if it wasn’t something she wanted, you just needed to know and an answer was never given.

“What’d that bag ever do to you Rose?” Sam asked. You jumped a little before looking over to where he was leaning against the wall. You hadn’t seen him come in.

“Everything, Jack,” you joked. It had been a running joke between you and Sam since a mission gone wrong on the water that evoked the infamous scene from Titanic. You both fit on the door.

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You sighed. Sam could read you better than anyone, barring Natasha. It was why you two were frequently partners on mission. You worked well together, seamlessly moving from one mission to the next.

“It’s relationship woes. We had a...disagreement before she left on her mission. I brought up the big M again,” you explained, moving to sit on the bench as you grabbed your bottle of water. Sam sat down beside you.

“Eventually you two do need to have that discussion. Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asked.

“I feel like she’s pulling away. You know how my last relationship went,” you told him. He let out a light laugh before speaking.

“Your ex was a piece of work. I know you. And I know Natasha. Natasha is the furthest thing from your ex. Have you told her how you feel?” he asked. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure how. You didn’t want to appear clingy. It was one of your fears when it came to voicing your feelings.

“To paraphrase Jersey Shore, I don’t want to appear like a stage five clinger,” you grumbled. You glared as Sam doubled over with laughter.

“I thought you hated that show,” he said when he caught his breath. You looked anywhere but at him. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t murder you for what you were going to say.

“I’ve been binging it with Barnes and Rogers when we have free time,” you admitted. At that, Sam had completely fallen off the bench laughing. You shook your head at your best friend. If that was the price you had to pay to end the conversation on your relationship issues, you’d pay it. Even if it meant facing the wrath of Bucky for letting Sam know that bit of information.

You both left the gym, headed for the living room. You knew Natasha was due back that day and that she was bringing Yelena with her. Yelena had met up with Natasha and Bucky on the mission. You liked Yelena, when she’d come around. She had her own room at the compound, but wasn’t formally an Avenger. She liked the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Tony was more than happy to offer her a place to stay.

You were in the middle of watching a rerun of The Nanny with Sam and Steve when the trio arrived. The three of you had just placed the pizza order, knowing the others would be in and out. You stood up and walked to Natasha, who placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I’m going to go shower before dinner gets here. Save my seat for me?” she asked.

“Always,” you replied. Bucky and Yelena both took their leave as well, all three of them in need of a shower after their debrief with Fury and Hill. You saw the look Sam gave you and just shook your head. Natasha was most affectionate after a mission. But by the end of the evening she’d be shrugging you off. It was a cycle that you had grown used to. You weren’t sure when things had changed.

Dinner arrived along with a freshly showered Natasha who sat down beside you, one hand on your thigh, itching for the contact. But you knew by the time dinner was done, Natasha would no longer be beside you. That she would come to bed after she was sure you were asleep. Unless she wanted to relieve tension. You felt more like her personal fucktoy than her girlfriend some days. A body to warm her bed and get her off. There were no bedtime conversations. There was no cuddling. No moments that belonged to just the two of you that didn’t involve sex. You hated it.

You stood and stretched some time after you finished dinner. You felt Natasha’s eyes on you. You knew it wouldn’t be long before she followed you to the room the two of you shared. For once, you were going to turn her down. You set about your nightly routine, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth before pulling on pajama pants and a tank top. You weren’t surprised to see Natasha lounging on the bed when you entered the room.

“I missed you baby,” she murmured as you sat on the bed. She knelt behind you, bringing one hand around to trail up your stomach to your breast. You rebuffed her attempt.

“Not tonight, Nat. I don’t think dinner sat well,” you lied. You heard her huff and bit your lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. You heard her get under the covers and wondered where things had started to go wrong before getting under the covers yourself, your back turned to her.

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The next morning, Yelena was joining the two of you for breakfast in your room. Room was an understatement. Each Avenger had their own kitchenette and living space with a separate bedroom. It was really like a small apartment. Most times though, the team could be found in the common spaces unless they wanted time to themselves or they were off compound on missions or visiting friends and family.

You were making pancakes. Yelena had volunteered to help. Nat had left on her morning run and had only mentioned that Yelena was coming over before she left. You felt at ease with the blonde. You doubled over in laughter as she smudged flour on your face after saying you had a spot of flour on your nose. Neither of you had heard Natasha come in until you heard the thud of her water bottle on the counter, startling you.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked, glaring at Yelena.

“We were just making breakfast, Nat. It’ll be done soon. Why don’t you go grab a shower?” you said to her. With one last glare, Nat stalked from the room angrily. You sighed.

“She loves you, you know,” Yelena said softly.

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you muttered. You set about setting the table, pouring coffee for Natasha, made just like she liked it. Breakfast was tense. Yelena threw a couple flirty comments before Natasha’s glare made her stop. She knew when to stop. The tension ramped up throughout breakfast, even as Yelena engaged Natasha in conversation. After breakfast, Yelena excused herself when she sensed the tension had only grown, making an excuse about having promised Wanda she would spar with her. You steeled yourself for the fight that was brewing.

“Seems like you and Yelena are getting on just fine,” Natasha said, her tone even and her eyes cold. You scoffed.

“Yes, Natasha. We are. I figured you’d want your sister and I to get along,” you replied as you began picking up the dishes to bring into the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean flirt with her! I know that look,” Natasha said.

“It was harmless,” you told her.

“Was it? Because it seems to me that you want to be anywhere except with me these days,” Natasha argued. You laughed. Truly laughed.

“Oh that’s just rich coming from you. Natasha we rarely share a bed anymore. When we do, it’s a quick fuck. It’s like that’s all I’m good for anymore. Being a warm body,” you cried. Natasha paused. Surely that couldn’t be true. She tried to think about the last time the two of you had gone on a date. The last time you two of you just spent time together. She was drawing a blank.

“I’ve been busy,” she said weakly. She knew it was a poor excuse. You’d been busy too. But you always made time to see her. And she would just brush you off. Natasha wasn’t so sure she could salvage the situation. She had never been on the receiving end of the disappointed look on your face. She didn’t like it.

“What are we Natasha? Anytime I bring up marriage you skirt the subject. Say not now. Later. When is later, Natasha?” you asked. You wanted answers. You knew this was going to be a make or break conversation for your relationship. You hoped it wouldn’t be a break. You weren’t sure you could handle losing her, not like this.

“You know how I feel about marriage,” Natasha replied.

“Do I? You always deflect,” you said, your voice lowering. You knew the pair of you were on a collision course with the point of no return. You were desperate to reign in your tempers before that point.

“You want to marry me? After everything I’ve done, everything you know about me?” she asked. Her voice betrayed a vulnerable side of Natasha you had never seen. A softness you had never heard in her voice before.

“Of course I want to marry you! I want to shout from the rooftops that Natasha Romanoff is mine! My wife, my love. But that doesn’t matter, Nat. As long as I have you, I’m happy. Married or not married, as long as you're mine,” you argued. The two of you stood for a moment, looking at one another. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel her arms wrapped around you. She stepped toward you, gently taking the dishes from your hands and placing them on the table beside you before bringing one hand up to cup your face.

“There is one thing I know for certain in this life. I don’t want to live it without you by my side. I haven’t been fair to you lately. I shut down instead of talking to you and it took until now for me to realize how close I’ve come to losing you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. You took her other hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“Then we’ll talk to someone. Because Nat. I don’t want to lose you either,” you replied. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, embracing one another in a way you hadn’t in so long. There were still discussions to be had. But they could wait. For now, you took comfort in one another, knowing that come tomorrow the real work would begin.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff/reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanov/reader #natasha romanov x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

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Written for @lesbianbirds for the @tma-valentines-exchange 2021!

Words: 8.5k Relationships: Melanie King/Georgie Barker, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood Tags: AU - Cat Café, Fluff, No Fear Entities, Established Jmart, Getting Together WTGFs, First Kiss, First Date, Mutual Pining, He/They Pronouns for Jon

Summary:

From the first moment Melanie King from Ghost Hunt UK walks into Georgie’s café, Georgie is utterly smitten.

|| Ao3 ||

The coffee pot is empty. Again.

With a long, drawn-out groan, Melanie opens the cabinet above the kitchenette sink and pulls out the container of unbearably cheap coffee that Martin had picked out last month when he’d restocked the cabinets.

(“Melanie, I don’t drink coffee, how am I supposed to know what is and isn’t ‘a good brand’?” Martin had said, sounding affronted and snappish in that way he always gets when his beverage-purchasing decisions are questioned—though that typically only applies to tea.

“Martin,” Melanie said, trying to keep her voice calm and neutral despite forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “If it’s less than five pounds, it’s not good coffee.”)

Soon, she’s got a pot brewing. The smell of it is almost enough to drag her out of the mid-morning fog that’s got her eyes unfocusing on the screen, making her see things in the footage that aren’t there. Some people would say that none of the things they point to in their videos as proof of the supernatural are real, and while it’s true that artistic license is a good portion of the job, their footage is not tampered with. Ever. She just sometimes has to look at it for hours to find what she’s searching for.

Thus, coffee.

It warms her from the inside out as she sits back at her desk and begins to click through the footage, despite the acrid, sooty film it leaves on her tongue that has her grimacing. She almost doesn’t notice that she’s emptied her mug until she picks it up to take a sip and finds it absent of liquid.

She’s debating the pros and cons of having another cup less than an hour after the first when Martin’s voice drifts over from the doorway, sounding amused. “I thought you said you didn’t like that coffee?”

Melanie sets the mug down on the corner of her desk with a clink and says, “Yes, well, we do what we have to to survive around here, Martin. Even if it is suffering through some terrible coffee.”

When she turns to look at Martin, there’s a small smile on his face that one might call a smirk if they knew him well. “Think you could put that suffering on hold?” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “Jon’s café opened today, and I was planning on stopping by for lunch. They’ve got an espresso machine?”

Melanie’s nose wrinkles before she can help herself. “Ugh, sorry,” she says, waving a hand at Martin as if that can alleviate the small furrow that’s appeared in his brow. “It’s just—the first and only time I’ve ever seen your partner, they spent most of their time lecturing me on the inaccuracies of my show! Our show, Martin! While we were out recording something! On tape!” To herself, she mutters, “Part of me wants to release them as bloopers just to see what happens. ‘Ghost Hunt UK: Selfish Prick Edition.’”

“They did say they were sorry,” Martin says, sounding apologetic. “And- well, I mean, to be fair, a lot of the things they pointed out actually were facts we’d gotten wrong in the research, so…”

Melanie gives him a look that could cut through bone. “It still shouldn’t give them the right to just say whatever they—”

She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. She’s already had this discussion with Martin at length; it doesn’t bear repeating. Her therapist, at least, has been trying to get her to stop dwelling on past angers. “Fine,” she says, hoping that her words don’t sound too forced. “Can you just- can you promise me this won’t turn into another attack on our legitimacy? Please?”

Martin’s smile is relief and delight in equal measure. “I promise,” he says in a way that from anyone else would seem empty but coming from Martin is binding and true. “They’ll behave.” He laughs lightly and continues, “Though they did just do this deep dive on London subterranean tunnels—checked out nearly every book in the library and everything. Maybe you could talk about the Millbank Prison tunnels we’re planning on exploring next week? Might be fun, to debate facts off-camera.”

“Sure,” Melanie says, entirely unconvinced. “That won’t go poorly at all.” Before Martin can respond, she pushes back from her desk with a small sigh and says, “All right, then. For you, Martin, I will visit Jon’s- what was it, a cat café?”

“And a bookstore!” Martin says cheerily, his cheeks flushing a light pink.

“Right,” Melanie says, suppressing another sigh. She does like cats, after all. And espresso. She could certainly use some right now. “I suppose we’re taking our lunch break now, then?”

“If you’re free.”

“Well, given that I’m my own boss, I can safely say that I am.”

Melanie slips on her coat and follows Martin out of her office and out of the building, leaving her empty coffee-stained mug balanced on the edge of her desk.

In retrospect, not setting up a gate to keep the cats out of the food preparation area was probably a bad idea. Georgie sighs and swipes the three muffins with bite marks in the sides of them into the bin, resolving to stop by the shop that night to pick up the requisite supplies to keep the fluffy, bread-loving felines she’d so dearly and painstakingly selected from the shelter from ravishing the food they were meant to be serving to the customers.

“That would be the Chairman,” Jon says, reaching around Georgie to slide the glass cover over the remaining muffins. “He can be quite clever when he puts his mind to it.”

“Hm, but not when he’s meant to be keeping out the pests, I suppose,” Georgie says with lips curled into a smile almost against her will. The cat in question is sat on the windowsill, carefully grooming his rich black fur in full view of passersby and the few customers sitting at the tables. It’s still early, Georgie tells herself, and they’re new—not a lot of built-up rapport yet. Give it time.

She’s never been known for her patience.

Jon’s just handed off a steaming mug of tea to a customer—oolong, she thinks—when he turns to her with eyes alight, like he’s just recalled something, and says, “I’m not sure if I told you, but Martin’s stopping by today. Have- have you met him yet?”

With careful neutrality, Georgie says, “I have.”

Jon seems to take that at face value, his face relaxing into a light smile as he busies himself with another cup of tea and says, “Well, he told me he’d stop by around lunch today, just to say hello and to see how the café is coming along. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you again.”

Georgie’s… not quite so sure about that. The first and only time she’s ever seen Martin was when she, he, and Jon had gone out for drinks one night, about two weeks after Jon had started dating him. Martin had sipped his tonic, pressed himself closely against Jon’s side, and spent the entire night not-quite-so-subtly staring daggers at her every time she laughed at something Jon said or reached out to lightly squeeze his hand. She’s never found jealousy a particularly good look on a person. (Particularly when it’s completely unwarranted; she and Jon broke up years ago, before he’d even left uni, and the thought of her being some sort of romantic competition is honestly a bit laughable.)

And so maybe she’d never made an effort to reach out again, deciding that one awkward night of drinks was enough for her. Martin had certainly never made such an effort in return.

“Sure,” is all Georgie says before turning back to the muffins.

They take a few more orders, make a few more drinks, and chase the Chairman away from the muffins more than a few times. Jon tries to tell Georgie that they’re supposed to be putting three pumps of vanilla in their lattes, which is ridiculous—it’s always been two pumps, it’s not Georgie’s fault that Jon has a secret sweet tooth. The disagreement is teetering just on the line between bickering and fighting when the little bell above the door clangs. Georgie’s eyes automatically follow the sound.

The first person she sees is Martin, black-and-white scarf wrapped up to his chin and cheeks flushed a rosy red from the cold. His face splits into a wide, cheery grin as he spots Jon, and out of the corner of her eye, Georgie sees Jon soften. She recognizes the expression on his face from when they dated in uni; it’s the same as the one that would surface when the Admiral would jump on his lap or when Georgie would bring him tea or when he would spot her across the quad in between classes.

Being in love is a good look on Jonathan Sims, Georgie thinks absently, and not without fondness.

Then, Georgie’s eyes alight on a second figure, following Martin in through the doorway. Her coat is zipped all the way up to her chin, long black hair twisted up into two tight topknots messy enough that they appear to be born more out of convenience than out of fashion. She’s almost as tall as Martin, nearly as skinny as Jon, and Georgie thinks she sees a glint of metal on the side of her nose, on the shell of her ear. Her mouth is tilted into a frown but her eyes are curious as they wander about the café, landing first on the cats, then on the bookshelves lining the walls, and then on the coffee grinders and stainless steel water heaters behind the counter.

Her eyes find Georgie. And Georgie realizes with a start that she recognizes her.

“Jon,” Georgie says, but Jon’s already gone, stepping around the counter with a mug in their hand and an infatuated grin on their face directed entirely toward Martin—and maybe a bit toward the cat that’s decided to make its home in Martin’s arms. So Georgie follows him, brushing past the orange-furred Minister as she does so and trying not to sneak too many surreptitious glances at the woman she’s seen hundreds of times on her laptop screen, framed in neon greens and black-and-whites and sepia tones.

She clearly doesn’t succeed, from the way that Martin follows her gaze to the woman before saying abruptly, “Oh! Right, sorry—forgot. Er, Melanie, this- this is Georgie. Jon’s friend!”

Melanie—Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK, standing here in the middle of her cat-café-slash-bookstore—regards Georgie with a look she can’t quite place. Then, Melanie holds out a hand. Her fingernails are painted a glittering green, Georgie thinks, then realizes she’s been staring at the hand altogether too long and reaches out to shake it.

“Right, Georgie. Georgie Barker. It’s… it’s nice to meet you.”

Huh. Her hand is softer than it looks on camera.

Before Georgie has time to unpack that thought, Melanie gives her that look again, and Georgie realizes that it’s scrutiny, with a bit of curiosity behind it. “Huh,” Melanie says, like Georgie’s just given her a puzzle to solve, a mystery to unravel. “You sound familiar.”

“Maybe I’ve just got one of those voices,” Georgie says with a disarming smile. She’s still holding onto Melanie’s hand. That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?

She lets go, though that doesn’t help the fluttering in the pit of her stomach. The butterflies climb up her throat, loosening her tongue, and she says without thinking, “Or maybe you’ve heard my podcast? What The Ghost? It- it runs every other Saturday.”

Melanie’s eyes grow just a bit wider then. “No,” she says disbelievingly. “Georgie? Martin, your partner’s best friend is What the Ghost? Georgie?”

Martin’s eyebrows dip into a frown. “Er… yes? Sorry, I- I suppose I never really mentioned it, did I? Sort of… assumed you already knew. Small ghost hunting world and all.”

Melanie looks at Georgie with a sharp, delighted glitter in her eyes. “Huh. Jonathan Sims’ ex is Georgie Barker from What the Ghost?. Who also owns a cat café. Stranger things, I suppose.”

“Slash bookstore,” Georgie says with a smile. “And besides, Jonathan never told me that Martin’s Melanie was Melanie King!”

“Oh, they talk about me?” Melanie says with a smirk.

“Only when absolutely necessary,” Jon says sullenly. Their grimace contrasts quite starkly with the trio of grey kittens they have cradled in their arms. One is valiantly trying to climb up into their hair. “Besides, I thought it was obvious. Martin does sound for Ghost Hunt UK, he has a coworker named Melanie, therefore Melanie is Melanie King of Ghost Hunt UK. It’s really not that much of a leap, Georgina.”

Georgie swats at Jon’s arm. “You never said she was a coworker! Jonathan Sims, this entire time you had a connection to Melanie King and you never said anything?”

Jon directs their sullen look at Melanie. “I wouldn’t say… connection, per se.”

“We’ve only met once, and they spent the entire time criticizing my setup and my story,” Melanie says, arms crossed and chin jutting out defensively, not dissimilar to a cat with its hackles raised.

“If that’s what you call fixing your facts, then fine,” Jon says with equal posturing, their mouth set into a firm line. “I admit that I should have waited until after we had left the shoot, but I will not apologize for correcting obvious mistakes!”

Melanie’s mouth opens, retort ready on her lips, when Martin says quickly, “Jon, why don’t you show me that book you were talking about? The, er, the one about the overlap between sea monster myths and geographical phenomena? I think you told me about the Scylla and Charybdis one last night, but I can’t quite remember what event you said it correlated with? A tsunami, maybe?”

Jon’s mouth opens, then snaps shut. They rub an absentminded thumb over the head of one of the kittens, chew on their bottom lip, and then say, “A hurricane, actually, which caused tsunami-like effects when it—here, I’ll just find the book for you. I think it’s in the back room.”

“That would be lovely,” Martin says, giving Georgie a wide—and not-too-subtly apologetic—grin before following Jon past the counter and into the smaller secondary part of the café meant only for books, the Minister trailing closely behind.

Melanie’s forehead is still set in a frown, but it softens a bit as she looks at Georgie and says, “Er. Sorry about that. Not my best first impression, arguing with someone else’s best friend in front of them.” Her lips curl into a smile, sharp and teasing yet warming Georgie to her core. “Maybe I can buy you a coffee to make it up to you?”

Georgie doesn’t really drink coffee, much preferring a strong green tea; the caffeine gives her headaches, and she’s always found it too bitter for her liking.

“That sounds lovely,” Georgie says. Then, with a teasing smile of her own, she slips back behind the counter and adopts her most put-upon customer service voice. “What can I get started for you?”

The next two months are… well, they’re really quite lovely. The café picks up after the first few days (which may or may not result from Georgie shameless plugging it on that week’s episode of What the Ghost?), all future muffins are saved from devastation by the cheap plastic gate Georgie picks up from the shop, and every day Jon talks her ear off about whatever book he’s last consumed.

When he’s not talking Martin’s ear off about it, that is. Because Martin stops by the café nearly every day, to the point where Georgie’s sure his bank account must be suffering from how many pounds he’s shelled out on coffee and sandwiches (which, as they’re set at Chelsea prices, are not cheap). He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He sits at the corner table, the one that lights up wonderfully in the noonday sun, with the Baroness sat upon his lap—a slim calico with a notch in one ear who’s taken a liking to Martin. Jon sits at the table across from him, both of them wearing those silly little infatuated smiles on their faces as they talk that Georgie is surprised haven’t faded even after nearly six months.

Maybe she should make more of an effort to get to know Martin. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw Jon quite so… peaceful.

And then, of course, there’s Melanie. Who accompanies Martin to the café sometimes, more and more as the weeks stretch on until it’s almost every day that Georgie gets to admire the sharp slant of her nose and the way that she smiles, like she’s just heard a joke and finds it very funny indeed. Georgie ends up hiring extra staff—Tim and Sasha, who interviewed together (which was strange) but who connected so well with Jon that she thought it a shame not to hire them both—and so she can take a few minutes off when Melanie stops by to talk. They talk about what places they’re planning on investigating and their most ridiculous episodes and the kinds of messages they’ve gotten from fans (ranging from flattery to outright hate mail). They talk about their favorite kinds of pastries and where they prefer to spend their Friday nights and their records for the number of drinks consumed in a single sitting (which Melanie wins by a large margin). They talk about their university years and their friends (because Jon’s really quite lovely once you get to know him, Georgie says, and What do you mean you don’t like Martin? What’s not to like? Melanie says) and their favorite childhood memories.

“My dad’s allergic to cats,” Melanie says one day, her fingers buried deep in the Chairman’s fur as she talks. “I always wanted one when I was growing up, got proper annoying about it for a while before he finally told me that it just wasn’t going to happen. We got a dog instead—Dandelion, she- she was wonderful, really, an old dog from a shelter—and then I moved away for uni, and the flat I’m in now isn’t pet-friendly, so…”

She makes a helpless gesture with her free hand. “This is nice, though,” she says and scratches the Chairman behind the ears. He makes a small, contented noise. “Shelter cats?”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, a hint of fondness slipping into her voice. “They’re all up for adoption, technically. We’ve only found homes for a few of them though, which if I’m being totally honest, I’m not too disappointed about.”

“They do grow on you,” Melanie says. The Chairman meows again, as if in assent.

“Mm,” Georgie says. Then, after a moment: “I’ve already got a cat at home, though, and he doesn’t take well to other cats. Tried once and it didn’t go well; had to have a friend take the new cat, felt right awful about it too.”

Melanie makes a sympathetic noise. Then, with a small smile on her face, she says, “What’s his name?”

“The Admiral.” At the look on Melanie’s face, Georgie laughs lightly and says, “Yes, yes, I know—I have a naming type. Jon’s already teased me more than enough for it—though I honestly think it’s rubbed off on him.” Her eyes light up, and she digs her phone out of her pocket. “Here, do you want to see a picture of him?”

She flips through the approximately two hundred photos of the Admiral on her phone before saying, nerves making her voice a bit too high, “I, er. I get off at five today. Do you… do you want to meet him? In person, that is.”

Melanie’s smile is like caffeine, sending her heart stuttering in her chest. “Do you even have to ask?”

So then Melanie’s in her flat, and she’s petting her cat, and she’s taking tea—black, just a bit of sugar—in the large yellow mug that Georgie likes, and she’s just so achingly beautiful that Georgie thinks she might die. Most of the time Melanie wears her hair up, in high ponytails or coiling braids or twin topknots, like the first time Georgie had seen her, stuck through with pencils or chopsticks or, on one memorable occasion, plastic forks.

(“Look,” Melanie had said, cheeks heating with embarrassment, “one of my chopsticks broke as soon as I got to work, and all we had were the forks. No, stop laughing at me—Georgina Barker, this is not funny!”)

But sometimes Melanie wears her hair down and Georgie realizes how long it is, brushing just above mid-back. It looks soft. Georgie finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it so badly that her hands twitch by her sides, but she doesn’t ask. She’s not that far gone yet.

It’s one night at Georgie’s flat, when Melanie’s got the Admiral on her lap and there’s a film going in the background that neither of them is paying any attention to, when Georgie realizes exactly how ‘far gone’ she really is. When Melanie says, haltingly, “So, you- you said you’d done a piece on the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, right?”

Georgie’s brow furrows as she thinks back. “A few seasons ago, I think.” She thinks she remembers Jon dragging up a history book for that one and lecturing her for a good hour and a half on the War of the Roses until she finally relented and changed the script to include a large section on it. “Why?”

“Oh, just- just wondering.” Melanie looks down at the Admiral; he gives a particularly contented purr and nuzzles into her hand, drawing a small smile to her face that Georgie immediately memorizes and files away for later. “I… I was thinking of doing a Ghost Hunt UK episode about it, actually?” she says, her cheeks coloring a light red. “And I thought—well, since you have some experience with the subject, maybe… maybe you would consider. Er. Guest-starring on the episode?”

Georgie’s mouth is suddenly very dry, her pulse quick as a hummingbird’s in her throat. Honestly, Georgina. It’s not like she’s asked you out on a date.

(Though Georgie would like that. She would like that very much.)

“Only if you’ll guest-star on What the Ghost?,” Georgie’s mouth says, entirely without her permission. But once it’s out there, Georgie finds that she really, really likes the idea of it. Them, tucked away in Georgie’s guest room that she’s converted into a studio, talking about ghosts and laughing and reading the horrible adverts she’s forced to incorporate—well. It sounds very lovely indeed.

“Oh, an ultimatum?” Melanie says, humored. Her smile is like wildfire, sending Georgie’s cheeks alight with flames that threaten to consume her utterly. “Well, then. I accept your terms, Georgie Barker. Perhaps you would like it in writing?”

“Oh, over a cup of tea would suffice,” Georgie says, and she knows that her face is nearly split in two by a grin and that she probably looks utterly ridiculous. But she can’t find it within herself to mind.

“I need your help.”

Jon nearly drops the stack of books they’re holding. The yelp they let out is quite undignified, and if asked, they will maintain that it never happened. (And since they’re in the back room of the café, there’s nobody around to hear it but the two of them.) “Jesus,” they say, shooting Melanie an irritated look softened by the shock still making their heart beat at a rapid-fire pace. Then, a bit petulantly: “Help with what? If I recall correctly, the last time I tried to help you, you decided you never wanted to speak to me again.”

“That wasn’t helping,” Melanie says through gritted teeth. “That was being condescending and rude in front of my coworkers.” She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and says, “But this isn’t about that. Believe me, I would much rather not be talking to you about this—”

“Great,” Jon says flatly. “I’m charmed.”

“—but,” Melanie continues, the look on her face dreadfully pained, “you’re Georgie’s best friend, so I really don’t have any other options.”

With no small amount of apprehension, Jon says, “Help with what, Melanie?”

Melanie’s expression is not unlike that of someone who’s just sat down in the dentist’s chair to get a tooth pulled. “What’s Georgie’s favorite food?”

Jon just stares. “What?” they say after a long moment of silence.

Melanie makes a frustrated noise. “Fuck, Jon, do you want me to spell it out for you? Should have known this was a waste of my time—”

“I don’t think Georgie has a favorite food,” Jon says quickly when the bite to Melanie’s voice grows sharp at the edges. “Maybe- maybe lángos?” At Melanie’s blank stare, they continue, “It’s, er. It’s deep-fried flatbread? She always orders it from the takeaway Hungarian place she likes—er, Miko’s Kitchen, I think?”

“Takeaway,” Melanie echoes. “Yeah, that’ll do.” After a beat, she says, begrudgingly, “Thanks.”

“Right,” Jon says, equally as begrudgingly. They’re not really sure they want to know, but—

“Why do you ask?”

The tips of Melanie’s cheeks go pink, and she says brusquely, “No reason.” She spins on her heel and makes to leave; then with her back to Jon, she pauses and says, “Do not say anything to Georgie.”

“What?” Jon says, confused. “Why?”

But Melanie’s already gone.

Jon stares at the books in their hands, then at the door that leads to the rest of the café. They see Melanie disappear through the front door, the bell jingling behind her.

“What?”

Georgie’s always liked routines. They provide structure to life that she finds comforting, and there’s enough room for variation within them that she doesn’t get bored. Wake up, get dressed, go to the café, come home, do some work on the next What the Ghost? episode, and go to bed, with room in between for other things, like watching that newest documentary on seals with Jon or waking early for a run.

Her new routine goes like this:

Around noon on most days, Martin and Melanie come into the café, sending the bell over the door jingling and approximately ten cats meowling insistently at their feet until Martin scratches beneath each of their chins in turn and Melanie collects some of the treats that Georgie keeps behind the counter in her hand and tries to pretend like she doesn’t like the way that the cats rub against her arms and hands when she kneels down to feed them. Martin orders a cup of tea—usually black with milk and a sugar, but sometimes it’s Earl Grey or gunpowder green—and Melanie gets an espresso drink that makes Georgie’s head ache just looking at it.

And as she hands the mug of tea to Martin, she’ll say, conversationally, “So, Martin, what kind of tea does Melanie like?”

Or: “Is Melanie more of a savory or a sweet kind of person?”

Or: “What’s Melanie’s favorite movie? Does she enjoy movies? What kinds of movies?”

Today, Georgie hands Martin his tea—black with milk and a sugar, the usual, nothing noteworthy or special about it—and says, casually, “What’s Melanie’s type?”

Martin nearly drops his mug. “Sorry, what?”

Georgie’s face begins to heat, but she barrels on. “You know—her type. Men, women, blonde, brunette—who she likes.”

Martin’s staring at Georgie like she’s got three heads. “Uh. I have no idea?” His cheeks are tinged with pink, and Georgie does feel a bit bad for making him uncomfortable, but the curiosity burning up inside her is a powerful thing. It keeps her mouth closed and her expression encouraging as Martin stutters out, “I- er, I think she- well, that is to say, I’m fairly certain that she- er, that she doesn’t… date men? At- at least that’s what it seems like!” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Last year, this chap—Greg, maybe? I don’t know—asked her out for dinner after one of our shoots. He was nice enough, you know—strong jawline, that kind of ‘swooshy’ hair, nice teeth—”

Martin’s face flushes a deeper red, and he cuts himself off. “Right, anyway. She said no, like it was obvious—not in, like, a mean way! Just like she was surprised by the offer. And when I asked her about it—” Martin shrugs. “She said he ‘wasn’t her type.’”

“I see,” Georgie says, keeping her tone carefully neutral and trying very hard to pretend like butterflies haven’t taken residence in her stomach. “Thank you, Martin, that’s very helpful. Enjoy your tea!”

“Wait,” Martin says, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Why did you want to—?”

“Ah, sorry, I- I’ve got another customer to deal with,” Georgie says quickly, deliberately ignoring the fact that the till is being sufficiently managed by Tim at the moment. “Great seeing you, Martin!”

Georgie thinks Martin might have said her name again, maybe even asked her a question. But she turns and retreats to the other end of the counter before she can hear it, brushing a curious Chairman away from the gate as she does so. And if her cheeks are as red as the heat in her face leads her to believe, at least Tim doesn’t mention it.

It’s after the seventh time that Melanie corners Jon in the back room of the café and grills him for details about Georgie that Jon finally gets it.

“Oh,” Jon says, apropos of nothing, sitting tucked into Martin’s side on the couch in his flat, the drama that Martin had wanted to watch playing softly in the background. “Melanie likes Georgie.”

Martin makes a sputtering, choking noise at that, something in between surprise and disbelief. “Okay?” he says, in that confused-yet-intrigued voice he gets when Jon changes the topic in a way that makes perfect, logical sense to him but that Martin can’t quite follow.

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, waving his hands in the air absently. “All of a sudden, Melanie wants to talk to me, but only about Georgie, and only when Georgie’s not around. And it’s all what’s Georgie’s favorite food? and does Georgie like parks or museums better? and what kinds of flowers does Georgie like?”

Martin sighs. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“And when I tried to tell her that just because Georgie and I dated, it doesn’t mean I know what kind of flowers she likes, she got this weird look on her face and just- just left.” Jon pinches the bridge of their nose between their fingers. “And then today, she asked me if Georgie likes women.”

Martin lets out a stifled laugh. “Just like that?”

Jon nods mutely. “I suppose it’s rather ridiculous it took that for me to figure it out.”

Martin laughs again. “Maybe. I didn’t realize that Georgie liked Melanie until she asked me what Melanie’s type is. Nearly dropped my tea.”

Wait. What?

Jon shifts so that they can get a good look at Martin’s face. “Georgie likes Melanie?”

Martin’s expression folds into confusion, then realization, then something softer. “Oh. Yeah, she- she does. Huh.”

Jon considers, very briefly, making a joke about terrible taste. The amount of restraint they exercise to keep it in is truly monumental. They’re sure that Martin can see it written all over their face, though, given the chastising look Martin gives them.

“Sorry,” Jon says, though technically they’ve done nothing that warrants an apology. Then: “So I suppose we ought to tell them, then?”

“What?” Martin’s looking at Jon like they’ve just suggested they microwave the water for their tea. “No, no, we should definitely not tell them.”

Jon frowns, shifting in place so that they can more fully face Martin. “Why not? If there’s mutual attraction, I don’t see any problem with helping to- to push it along a bit. Lord knows we could have used the help.”

“Jon,” Martin says, not unkindly. “If Georgie would have suggested that you ask me out, or even told you that I liked you, what would you have done?”

“I—” Jon stops, sucks in a breath. “All right, fine, I probably would have reacted poorly, or more likely just wouldn’t have believed her. But, as Georgie keeps telling me, our experiences are not universal.” They cross their arms over their chest with a sigh. “I just hate that trope, where the entire plot revolves around some- some misunderstanding or intentional obfuscation of information that keeps the love interests apart.”

“I know,” Martin says gently. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe they’d take it well. But I honestly don’t think it’ll come to that. Melanie and Georgie aren’t nearly as emotionally repressed as we were—”

“Hey!”

“—and besides, even if we don’t tell them outright, it doesn’t mean we can’t nudge a bit here and there.”

“Nudge,” Jon echoes.

Martin gives them a conspiratorial grin.

“Martin,” Jon says, trying to keep their smile under wraps and failing miserably. “You know how bad I am at subtly.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes before pressing a soft kiss across their knuckles. He doesn’t say a word.

Jon loses the fight with his lips, and they curl upward against his will. “Fine, fine. No promises, though.”

Martin hums, giving Jon’s hand another squeeze. “You know we’re going to have to rewind the movie, right?”

The groan Jon lets out is more than a little overdramatic. “Why you like this- this drivel, I’ll never understand.”

“Hey, this drivel won two BAFTAs.”

“Ugh. No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

The end of the movie is, predictably, bad. But when Martin presses a soft kiss to Jon’s forehead before standing to go wash their mugs, Jon can’t bring himself to mind.

It’s two and a half weeks later that Jon finally, inevitably, slips up. Which, in his defense, is twice the amount of time he thought it would take for either Georgie or Melanie to finally ask the other out. So really, it’s not his fault at all.

It goes like this:

On Saturday nights at eight, Jon goes to Georgie’s flat, they order pizza or Chinese or Indian, and they put on paranormal investigation videos. Technically, it’s research—coming up with new places or events to make a What the Ghost? about, seeing what the rest of the community is doing, familiarizing themselves with other people’s work in case they ever need to network. In reality, it usually devolves into Jon picking apart their research as sloppy, unsubstantiated, complete falsification of facts, an utter embarrassment to the field of paranormal research and Georgie complaining that that’s not even how ghosts work, you can’t use an EMF there because of the power lines, that’s not even an orb that’s a dust particle on your camera lens.

In short, it’s the highlight of their week. Jon had to cancel once, and Georgie never let him hear the end of it.

Tonight, they’re watching an investigation of the Cambridge Military Hospital, and Georgie’s nearly reached a fever pitch, her increasingly frustrated hand-waves having narrowly avoided knocking over their half-full wine glasses twice now.

“—and that’s just a few reasons why they’re doing it all completely wrong!” Georgie says, ending the sentence with a long, drawn-out groan. “I swear, one of the only respectable shows in this business is Ghost Hunt UK.”

Jon eyes Georgie with no small amount of skepticism. “Well. Respectable is pushing it a bit.”

Georgie spins and points a stern, accusing finger at Jon. “Do not start. Nit-picking aside, Melanie’s tactics are solid, and at least she doesn’t blatantly fabricate her results!”

“Just plays it up for the camera, then,” Jon says under their breath.

“Jonathan.”

Jon bites back a groan. “Fine.” Then, like pulling teeth: “I… suppose that, historical inaccuracies aside, if… if I had to choose a show that I believed to be the- the least fraudulent, I might—might—be inclined to pick Ghost Hunt UK. But I cannot excuse sloppy research, Georgina.”

Georgie’s sigh is labored. “I suppose that’ll have to do.” She turns back to the television, and as she does so, she says, “You know, I thought that since you two were spending more time together, you might have warmed up to her.”

Jon just stares at her. “What?”

Georgie shrugs, reaching for her wine glass. “She comes into the café all the time now. I assume you’re not meeting up in the back room to discuss your mutual love for weird, esoteric books, right?”

Jon’s face heats up, and they press their lips very firmly together. “I… no. I suppose not.”

Georgie hums, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m just glad you two are friends now. God knows it’ll make it less awkward when she comes over to record for the next episode of What the Ghost?.”

“The next episode of—?” Jon cuts off with a sigh. “Georgie, you didn’t tell me that you were bringing Melanie on as a guest star.”

Georgie looks at Jon then, a strange expression on her face. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Jon reaches for their own wine glass, guilt coiling in their stomach. “No, I- I’m sorry. You just never mentioned it.”

Georgie gives Jon an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I- I suppose I thought maybe she’d mentioned it to you?” A small laugh. “Unless you were actually talking about weird books.”

“No,” Jon says sullenly. “That would have been nice. That would have involved actually talking and not just being grilled for information about you, and what you like, and whether or not you would like her.”

Two and a half weeks of carefully maintained restraint crumbles in an instant, and Jon’s wince is full-body. Georgie’s eyes are burning into the side of Jon’s face, and they say quickly, “Er. Forget I said anything, please.” They gesture to the screen helplessly. “I- I think they’re analyzing their footage now.”

“Jon,” Georgie says, setting her wine glass down on the table with a clink. “What did you just say?”

“Georgie,” Jon says, “I am begging you.”

“Jonathan Sims.”

Well. So maybe it’s entirely their fault. In for a penny, in for a pound, they suppose.

So they send a silent apology to Martin, set their wine glass down again, and open their mouth to speak.

Martin’s got Jon’s head resting on his chest and his arm curled around Jon’s back, the linens soft beneath them and his mind half-drifted off to sleep, when Jon says, quietly, “Georgie knows.”

“Mm?” Martin says, not quite awake. Then, after an extended pause, the words register, and Martin says, “Oh. Did you—?”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but Jon’s already nodding, the motion sending his hair tickling against Martin’s chin. “It was an accident,” he says, his voice small. “It- it just came up, I didn’t mean to—”

He cuts off with a wordless noise of displeasure. Martin’s arm tightens around Jon, his thumb rubbing small circles against Jon’s arm. “Hey, hey. It’s fine. You know I would never be mad at you for something like this, right?”

Jon makes a sound remarkably similar to a scoff. “Yes, I know. It’s not- I’m not guilty, just- just frustrated.” There’s a small pause. Then, Jon says, quieter, “I suppose I’m worried that Melanie’ll hate me for it. We- we’re not friends, per se, but she trusted me not to say anything to Georgie. She asked me not to say anything, and I- I did it anyway!”

“You didn’t mean to,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s temple.

“I don’t think that matters much.”

Martin just hums. “What did Georgie say?”

Jon pauses for a moment. Then, with a small chuckle, he says, “Uh. I’m pretty sure it was something like, ‘Thank fuck, I’m asking her out tomorrow then’?”

Martin can’t help it; he laughs, more audibly than Jon, and soon they’re both giggling on the bed, Jon’s laughter a warm, rumbling feeling against Martin’s chest. “Well,” Martin says finally, once he’s gotten his breathing under control a bit. “I suppose that’s good, then.”

“Quite,” Jon says, an audible smile in his voice.

There’s quiet for a moment. Then, because Martin can’t resist: “So it really is that easy, then? One person can just ask the other out? Goodness, why didn’t we think of that?”

Jon makes a noise Martin could only describe as grumpy. “Go to sleep, Martin.”

“All right, all right,” Martin says, humored. Then, after a moment: “I love you.”

Martin can feel Jon smile against his chest. “I love you too.”

It’s not utterly freezing outside the next day, which Georgie is infinitely thankful for as she leaves the café in the hands of Jon and Sasha at quarter to five and makes the short commute to Melanie’s studio. She’d considered, briefly, just asking Melanie out at the café—pulling her aside to ask her a question, or possibly spelling it out in the windows if she was feeling bold—but it felt a bit too stale. And besides, Fridays were always busy days at the café, and between taking orders, restocking the pastries and sandwiches, and taking care of a mishap with a certain grey-haired, muffin-loving cat, Georgie had barely had time to flash Melanie a smile, much less ask her out on a date.

God, Georgie hasn’t been this nervous since uni.

Georgie’s been standing outside the studio for only a few minutes, debating whether or not to go inside or to just wait on the sidewalk for Melanie to come out, when a familiar voice says, “Georgie?”

The butterflies in Georgie’s stomach flutter, trying to climb up her throat and out of her mouth. She turns to see Melanie standing just a few feet away, her cheeks and nose dusted red from the chill and a hat pulled firmly down over her forehead and ears, a little logo of a ghost emblazoned upon the front of it.

The What the Ghost? logo.

Georgie honestly thinks that, in this moment, she might actually kiss Melanie King right here and now.

Instead, she says, “Are you off work?”

Melanie’s forehead creases, and it’s so cute. Georgie wants to reach over and smooth it flat again. She keeps her hands firmly in her pockets. “I have a few more things to do with the footage, but it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour, so- yeah, soon, I guess? Er, why?”

“Um.” Georgie shifts in place, the nerves in her stomach overtaking her quite suddenly. The words stick in her throat like honey, and she clears her throat once, like it’ll free them. “I’ve been, er. I’ve been wanting to try this new Indian place, over in Clapham? Martin, uh--he says you like Indian food?”

Melanie’s just staring at her. Georgie steels herself, tries to ignore the stutter of her heart in her chest, and says, “Also, there’s a new Paranormal Activity in cinemas, if you’d like to go with me. After dinner, that is.”

Georgie waits approximately a second and a half before saying, all in a rush, “A date, Melanie. Will you go on a date with me? Tonight, if you’re free.”

Then, Georgie clamps her mouth shut and waits. No matter how badly she wants to talk to fill the silence.

The silence that only lasts a few seconds before Melanie laughs, her face breaking into a smile of disbelief, and says, “Oh. Yes, I- that sounds lovely.” Then, enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely.”

The butterflies flutter once more, excitation and elation filling her in equal measure. “Great. Do, uh. Do you want to meet there, or…?”

Melanie blushes, which is a sight that Georgie thinks she’ll treasure forever. “Why don’t you just come inside?” she says, opening the door to the studio. “We’ve got central heat and shitty coffee.”

“Ah,” Georgie says as she steps inside. “That explains the daily visits to the café, then.”

Melanie’s cheeks grow a more vibrant red, and she looks away quickly. “That’s not the only reason,” she mumbles. Then, louder, and a bit hesitantly: “Do- do you want to help me with the footage? It’ll, er. It’ll go faster with two sets of eyes, and Martin’s left already.”

“Yeah,” Georgie says, her throat so swollen with affection she can hardly breathe. “I- I can do that.”

Never, in a million years, would Georgie have said that her ideal date began sitting behind a desk in a too-cramped office, staring at a screen and pointing out little glitches in the editing to be smoothed out. But her hand brushes against Melanie’s every so often when she moves and her knee is pressed up against Melanie’s where she’s sitting next to her in a chair they’d dragged over from Martin’s office, so it’s really no wonder that Georgie’s cheeks are flaming and her heart is stuttering in her chest by the time they finally get to the actual date part of the night.

And it just feels so… easy. Georgie takes Melanie to the Indian place, and they sit and eat chicken vindaloo and paratha under the red-yellow glow of the lights, just low enough to feel romantic but not so much so that Georgie can’t see the way that Melanie’s eyes light up when she talks about her latest hiking trip at Beinn a’Chrulaiste in Scotland.

“I’ve always wanted to hike St. Kilda,” Melanie says, twisting her fork in her chicken absently, “but, y’know… it’s got the Lover’s Stone, which is super popular with couples, and it always just felt weird, I guess.”

“Maybe we could go someday,” Georgie says, because she’s always been a bit too bold for her own good.

Melanie looks surprised for a moment before a small, coy smile comes across her lips. “I dunno—hiking through the wilderness is quite a bit different than sitting in your bedroom talking into a microphone. D’you think you’d be up for it?”

“I’ll have you know,” Georgie says, stabbing her fork at Melanie for emphasis, “that I do field research too! Jon’s the one who does most of the ‘history’ bits of it.”

Melanie lets out a small, bitten-off groan. “Right. Yeah, that tracks.”

Georgie considers telling her that she’s very much like Jon, in a way. But she decides that bringing up exes is not exactly the best first-date conversation material. So she picks up on a story about her last field research trip out to Minsden Chapel and brushes the topic away for another day.

For another date.

Georgie can’t stop smiling.

The film is fine, if a bit trite. Melanie’s hand in hers, coming to rest there thirty minutes in, is much, much more than fine. And when Georgie can’t stop herself from flipping her hand over and twining their fingers together, she’s rewarded with a small squeeze and the faintest of smiles, caught out of the corner of her eye.

They live on completely opposite sides of London, it turns out—Georgie in Acton and Melanie in Dulwich—and so the grand gesture of walking Melanie to her doorstep and then leaning in for a kiss like some couple out of a rom-com is out of the question. Still, Georgie is nothing if not persistent. So when Melanie stops in a secluded spot just outside the cinema, makes a small, aborted gesture that’s almost a shrug and says, “Well, I- I suppose this is it, then. I, er. I had a nice time,” Georgie decides that she’s something of a hopeless romantic after all, and her hand squeezes tighter around Melanie’s when she goes to pull away.

“Yeah,” Georgie says, certain that she sounds utterly infatuated but unable to convince herself to care. “Yeah, me too.” A pause. “I’d love to do it again sometime.”

Melanie lets out a short, clipped laugh. “Yeah, that- that sounds lovely.”

Georgie can’t help herself. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Melanie’s look of surprise quickly morphs into an amused grin. “Tomorrow? God, am I that good of company?”

“Mm, just a bit,” Georgie says with a fond grin to match. Her other hand comes up to brush gently against the side of Melanie’s cheek, the pads of her fingers catching against a few stray strands of black hair that have fallen around the shell of her ear. She hears Melanie’s breath catch as she takes a small step closer, enough so that the space between them is filled with the tension of too close not close enough. Then, teasingly: ”How do you feel about coffee?”

Melanie’s laugh is closer to a snicker. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.” A pause. Then: “Won’t be as good as yours, though.”

Georgie’s heart does something funny at that, a twisting, swirling sensation in her chest. “Flatterer,” she says, but it comes out barely more than a whisper.

Were they always so close together?

Melanie looks at Georgie then, something hot and burning in her eyes that Georgie feels reflected in her own mind, body, and soul. Her hand squeezes around Georgie’s, just once, and she says, “I’d very much like it if you would kiss me now, Georgie Barker.”

And so Georgie threads her fingers gently in Melanie’s hair, leans in, and kisses her. And everything—the softness of her lips, the little sigh she gives into Georgie’s mouth, the feeling of her hair between Georgie’s fingers—is so, so much better than she’d ever imagined it to be.

She kisses Melanie, memorizing the feel of her lips beneath hers, and begins to chart her way forward to all the kisses to come. She envisions the little kisses, like this one, and the passionate kisses, and the chaste kisses to a forehead or temple or back of the hand, and the sleepy kisses in the morning when neither of them would be awake enough to do much else than smile against the other’s mouth and trade quiet hellos. And with each passing image, the ember in her chest grows more and more until it’s fully ablaze, heating her from the inside out with a burning desire for what’s to come.

Melanie squeezes her hand once more before departing, leaving Georgie with a quiet I’ll call you and a smile so soft Georgie fears she might break it if she holds it too close. Georgie stands outside the cinema for a moment more, watching until Melanie disappears into the shadows, with lips and palms burning with a quiet, comforting heat that she can feel despite the nip of winter air against her skin. Then, she turns and begins to make her way back to her flat, a nervous energy curling in her stomach as she walks that finally, when she opens the door to her flat to reveal a very insistent Admiral rubbing against her ankles and purring at the approximate volume of a chainsaw, resolves itself into a bubbling excitement.

She can’t wait to fall in love with Melanie King.

Georgie feeds the Admiral, flicks the lights off, and goes to bed. And if her dreams are full of inky-black hair and thin-fingered hands and soft lips, pressing warmly against hers, then she finds she really doesn’t mind much at all.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma valentines exchange #wtgfs #jonmartin #melanie king #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #georgie barker #a plethora of cats!#my fic #my writing #happy valentine's day!! have some tooth-rotting fluff

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classpectcurse · 3 years ago

Text

glossary intro

disclaimer: okay finally writing up my glossary -- this is for my own reference. im RIGHT but dont fuckin ask me to defend this i’m too tired. you can dm me i guess but i’ll only respond if i think theres a point worth debating. i’ll substantiate with examples whenever relevant but this is a definitive guide of my interpretation. i am NOT tagging this because i don’t want anyone to fuckin see this besides the people i’ve told about this tumblr ok. will probably edit and update as i remember things.

anyway, classpect. system of character classification. it entails class + aspect and what it reflects is a characters core character traits. it is the nature before the nurture. your base character template before life experiences, personal quirks and everything else gets layered on on top. classpect generally determines a character’s impact on their environment and the people around them.

most clearly seen in fictional characters since a) their peak performance/impact is far more evident when looking at their personal development and character arc and b) physical impacts can be demonstrated through fiction in a way that doesn’t happen irl; besides literal magic powers (which don’t always map 100% cleanly anyway) thematically relevant motifs, life-changing plot events as well. more on that in the aspect section.

irl it often is most observable/confirmable in interpersonal impact, so you would look at their effect on the people around them –– what role do they fill in a group setting? how do people change from being in their presence? what energy do they bring to the social interaction? (on energy –– more on that in vibespecting)

general disclaimers under the cut (i will not interact with people who don’t take these disclaimers to heart)

anyway classpect is fun and useful but a few general disclaimers for classpecting.:

- don’t take it too seriously. like, it is REAL and it is INTERESTING and it is very fun to read into, but don’t use classpect to prescribe what you think you need to be like, or as a basis to pass judgement on others. the later discussion will talk about flaws, and strengths, and general vibes. they all have a basis in truth obviously, or else i wouldn’t mention it, but some can be misread or exaggerated. in the past people have taken those definitions and used it to make themselves and others very, very miserable. it’s literally about superhero powers from a stupid webcomic. don’t take it so seriously.

- there is no room for interpretation here ok. there is a right and a wrong definition. this is not an area where room for disagreement is really possible, except in specific classpecting since that can take time to observe and really identify a person’s behaviour and impact. i’m open to improving my definitions and especially terminology, but just so you know. for my purposes i’m generally right. i’ve spent EIGHT YEARS (gross) hammering out my understanding. there are people out there who have very very different interpretations that i have gone through and disagreed with but i DO NOT have the time to dig that shit up. if you disagree with me massively please just go away

- no master classes. master classes are very cool in theory but they do not exist in real life. the whole point of the 12/12 classpect system is that it places all people on equal footing; no class or aspect is superior to the other. each classpect serves a DIFFERENT function and has strengths and weaknesses but each individual is equally valid and worthy of respect. not so for master classes. master classes explicitly exist as THE superior classes, of the active and passive roles respectively. they represent the ULTIMATE active and ULTIMATE passive, which inherently places them outside of the classpect system. master classes can be sparingly applied to supercharged supernatural/religious figures, and maybe i’ll discuss them briefly someday, though i don’t really care for them, but i will not be discussing them as a viable option wrt real people and to most fictional characters.

- no gendered classes. sorry if you missed the memo but gender is fakey fake. and “gendered classes” are bullshit. the only real effect of gendered classes is that certain classes are often associated with characters of a certain gender, abs that’s usually due to Sexism and Gender Roles, blech. generally the goal is to weed out gender stereotypes from characterisation when trying to use any of these examples as representative of their class.

will probably add more later as i think of things. anyway onto classes and aspects. :’)

#glossary tag #reference lists

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irandrura · 4 years ago

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The Elder Scrolls - a disclaimer and rant

I am going to make some posts about The Elder Scrolls, and in particular, its background, setting, and characters. That means that a disclaimer is probably necessary.

Here’s the tl;dr version: yes, I know about the lore. Please trust me when I say that I was really super into it about a decade and a half ago, and I’ve kept an eye on it since. I have read the Michael Kirkbride forum posts. I have read C0DA, The Seven Fights of the Aldudagga, Sermon Zero, the Loveletter from the Fifth Era, and so on. I know the forum roleplays like The Trial of Vivec. I know that Ayrenn is really a time-travelling mining robot from outer space. I think all the stuff I just referenced varies widely in quality, opinions quite reasonably differ on it, and it’s frequently at odds with what’s actually depicted in the games, but at any rate, I promise that I know it.

So when I go on and talk about Psijics – I know, all right? I know. I am choosing to engage with the setting on a level that focuses more on characters, human stories, and, well, the narratives of the games. The TES apocrypha is interesting, but of limited relevance to the things I’m interested in. There are many valid ways to enjoy TES. Okay?

Now, the longer part:

If you haven’t played TES, and… actually, scratch that, for like 90% of people who’ve played TES, none of the above needed to be said. The thing is, when you play a TES game, it is a fairly straightforward elves-and-wizards-and-dragons fantasy setting in the D&D mould. Indeed, the earliest versions of it, back in the 90s, were based on a D&D campaign. So there’s relatively little surprising about it, and “it’s like D&D” will carry you most of the way towards understanding it.

However, TES games are also renowned for containing lots of in-game books you can read, which are often some of the most striking and evocative parts of the games. These are supplemented by a large library of apocrypha: often unofficial material, posted by developers (and ex-developers) on the internet. The most infamous of these writers is Michael Kirkbride, who has some… very unusual tastes and interests, but there are a range of other names as well. In any case, the result is that TES has an ‘expanded universe’ composed of these non-canonical writings. Often canonical texts in-game hint at some of this vast, unofficial hinterland, and sometimes ideas invented in the apocrypha sneak back into the games themselves.

Further, the apocrypha often hints at what seems to be a very different setting to the one directly experienced in the games: one that’s less about warriors and wizards and adventure and more one about divine magic, transcendence, myth, and meaning. The descriptions often seem to be somewhat at odds. This can best be demonstrated with some examples.

For instance, here is Michael Kirkbride’s description of a High Elf warship, written before any game had depicted the High Elf homeland:

Made of crystal and solidified sunlight, with wings though they do not fly, and prows that elongate into swirling Sun-Birds, and gem-encrusted mini-trebuchets fit for sailing which fire pure aetheric fire, and banners, banners, banners, listing their ancestors all the way back to the Dawn.

This is Old Mary at Water.

You will immediately notice two things. The first is that this sounds really cool. Some of it you need some context to parse (the old elven homeland is called ‘Aldmeris’, hence ‘Old Mary’ as a mocking nickname given by its foes; the High Elves believe that they are literally, genealogically descended from the spirits that created the world at the Dawn), but even so, man, that warship sounds awesome. This Kirkbride guy can write. The second thing, though, is that it is extremely unclear what any of this even means. Given that descriptions… what does this ship look like? Try to picture it! What the heck does ‘crystal and solidified sunlight’ look like? How exactly does a trebuchet throw fire? What?

You might then go on to play a video game where the High Elves are taking part in a war to conquer the continent. If you’re like me, you’re probably keen to see one of these fabled warships. But then it turns out that in-game, High Elf ships look… like this. Or like this.

(Indeed, the High Elves are often a good example of this. An earlier written text, in a pamphlet enclosed with the video game Redguard, described the elven capital of Alinor as “made from glass or insect wings” or “a hypnotic swirl of ramparts and impossibly high towers, designed to catch the light of the sun and break it into its component colours”. Needless to say, should you visit it in a game, it does not look like that.)

After a while, you start to notice that there is very little connection between the world implied by the apocrypha and the world experienced in the games. Kirkbride says that the “closest mythical model” for the ancient knight Pelinal “would be Gilgamesh, with a dash of T-800 thrown in, and a full-serving of brain-fracture slaughterhouse antinomial Kill(3) functions stuck in his hand or head”, and says “Pelinal was and is an insane collective swarmfoam war-fractal from the future”. Indeed in Kirkbride’s descriptions Pelinal seems to have been an ultraviolent schizophrenic who led a wild, genocidal band of anti-elven warriors, was very definitely gay, and who had only a red, gaping hole where his heart ought to be (which in turn is a reference to the missing heart of the creator-trickster deity Lorkhan, whom Pelinal was in part a mortal incarnation of). You might find that really cool or you might find it banal, but there’s no denying that it’s extremely different to the Pelinal whose ghost you can meet in-game. The apocryphal Pelinal is a mad butcher whose closest mythic model, contra Kirkbride, actually seems to be Achilles; the game Pelinal is a straightforwardly sympathetic chivalric knight. This is complicated somewhat by the in-game books being written by Kirkbride and therefore being gonzo bananas insane, so the ‘canon’, such as it is, is unclear – but at any rate it is impossible to deny that there’s an incongruity.

I could go on with examples for a long time. I haven’t even mentioned the most famous – the 1st edition PGE description of Cyrodiil compared to what it actually looks like in Oblivion – or more recent ones, like the gulf between Alduin the mythic dragon who will consume the world and indeed time itself in its terrible jaws and the frankly quite underwhelming beastie you fight in Skyrim. The point I’m making is that there are effectively two TES settings: one relatively down-to-earth, immersive, and depicted in great detail in the video games, and one that’s this absurd mash-up of magic and science fiction and whatever psychedelics Michael Kirkbride has been taking this week.

I write this long disclaimer because it has been my experience discussing TES in the past that people who are mostly interested in the former – in the relatively grounded setting experience in the games – sometimes run into an elitist attitude from people who are interested in the latter. Sometimes fans of the apocrypha can come on much too strong, or gatekeep the idea of being a fan of ‘TES lore’. Any sentence that starts with “actually, in the lore…” is practically guaranteed to go on to be awful.

My point is not that the apocryphal TES is bad. As I hinted above, in my opinion its quality varies extremely widely: there are things that Kirkbride has written that I think are pretty cool (I unironically love the Aldudagga) and there are things he’s written that I think are indulgent tripe (C0DA stands out). Ultimately it’s all about what you enjoy, and I would never try to tell anyone that they shouldn’t have fun reading or speculating about or debating the zaniness of some of these texts. Indeed, as far as online fandoms and video game fan fiction goes, TES probably has the most fruitful ‘expanded universe’ that I’ve ever seen, and I think that’s wonderful. Kirkbride himself has said that “it’s really all interactive fiction, and that should mean something to everyone” and “TES should be Open Source”, which is a position I wholeheartedly endorse – and does a lot to take the edges off some of the worse things he’s said.

Rather, my point is that everyone should enjoy what they feel most interested in, or most able to enjoy. Further, I argue that there is absolutely nothing wrong – and for that matter absolutely nothing less intelligent or less intellectual – about a person preferring to engage with the version of TES most clearly depicted in the video games. Part of this might be defensiveness on my part, because in my opinion what TES has always done best is a nuanced depiction of cultural conflict: this is particularly the case in Morrowind and Skyrim, and ESO’s better expansions tend to deal in this area as well. As such I take relatively little interest in the metaphysical content of much of the apocrypha. For me, Shor, say, is most interesting as the protagonist of several conflicting cultural narratives, rather than as a metaphysical essence.

I would also argue that the most recent game content has taken a good approach by going out of its way to legitimise a range of possible approaches to the setting. The latest chapter of ESO, Greymoor, includes a system where the player can dig up ancient artifacts, and a number of NPC scholars will comment on them for you. This allows the game to indicate in-character scholarly disagreement over issues fans have previously debated. One item shows disagreement over whether the mythical character Morihaus was literally a bull, or a minotaur, or whether he was a human allegorically referred to as a bull. Another one points to disagreement over the possibility of magical spaceships: apocryphal materials have referred to ‘Sunbirds of Alinor’, ‘Reman Mananauts’, etc., as sorts of magical astronauts, but that seems so ridiculous given what we’ve seen in the games as to be easily discounted. I like items like this in-game because they seem to say to players, “It’s okay to disagree over questions like this – no one is doing TES wrong.”

That said, I am reasonably positive that I’m in the minority here, because I am in the camp that usually says that legends exaggerate, and so Morihaus probably wasn’t a bull and magical spaceships don’t exist. This is not a popular position. My reason, of course, is that I think tales are more likely to grow in the telling rather than shrink, and I have a dozen of what I think are hard-to-deny examples of this happening in TES (e.g. heroic narratives of the War of Betony are very different to the grubby reality you uncover in Daggerfall, or Tiber Septim is almost certainly from Alcaire rather than Atmora). However, this means that I openly take an opposite methodology to Michael Kirkbride. Kirkbride was once asked by a forum poster whether some in-game writings are exaggerated. His reply was: “I prefer, "It is very possible, as is the case throughout this magical world, that some of the exaggerated claims made about some subjects pale in comparison to the Monkey Truth. ZOMGWTFGIANTFEATHEREDFLUTYRANTS."”

Needless to say, I find this implausible, and it means that, for example, I interpret the Remanada as an obvious piece of propaganda, inventing a story about Alessia’s ghost in order to retroactively explain why Reman, probably born the son of a hill chieftain with zero connection to the previous dynasty, really has imperial blood. This is a very different but in my opinion more historically plausible take than Kirkbride’s, who has a naked thirteen year old Reman standing atop his harem and slaughtering recalcitrant followers.

I’m not saying that my approach is objectively correct. It’s all fiction – and as Kirkbride said, TES is open source. The only thing that matters is what you the reader, player, or interpreter find the most interesting. For me, that means generally favouring what is seen in the games over the developer apocrypha, which I can take or leave.

At any rate.

I’m going to go on and make some more fannish posts about stuff in ESO that I liked.

Just… if it’s relevant, be aware that I am familiar with the zany stuff. Some of it I like, a lot of it I don’t like, and I feel no obligation to use it if I don’t like it.

There. Disclaimer over.

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bethanydelleman · 2 years ago

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I feel like we need to establish a better social contract around free Fan Fiction. If I read a story in front of you, you'd clap (I imagine) but post something online and people feel okay just reading it and staying silent.

I haven't done actual research, but I feel like people have become so used to free content on websites that they forget that most FF is written as a hobby by non-professionals. Other sites have paid workers behind their content (whether they are paid enough is another discussion but this is not the time). Even FF writers who will publish down the road are giving away their first drafts for free.

Readers should be giving back! It's just polite. Now I understand if you don't like an FF you might not want to be negative, that is fair. But I had a WIP that got nearly a thousand hits per post, so people clearly are enjoying it (do people read through 17 posts in hatred?) and yet I would get maybe 20-30 comments max per post. I have heard from some people that they don't know what to say or are nervous to comment.

Also, most people commenting are names I recognize; they comment habitually. I love them, they are great. But they shouldn't be carrying the whole weight of replying!

My FFs are written, edited, and beta-read. It takes hours of work. Can we not agree that I deserve a minor serotonin hit in for that effort?

I wrote out some suggestions, I think it might help FF writers to add something like this on their fics (it has helped me at least with comments):

I’m a person and while I do write for pleasure, I share it because I love to hear what other people think. So if you are enjoying this story, please take the time to comment, even if it's just to say, “Thank you.” or “I enjoyed that chapter”. I also am completely accepting of:

1. Parts that you really loved (so I can smile about it)

2. Parts that you found boring (I can learn from that)

3. Parts you found confusing (I will clarify and try to do better in the future)

4. Predictions (the best indicator of if I’m doing foreshadowing correctly is if a few people, but not all people, guess where I’m going)

5. Typo fixes (you would not even BELIEVE how incapable of spelling I am without a computer, I will take no offence)

6. Canon/character interpretation disagreements (I don’t think this character would ever do that! Being canon compliant or in-character is always what I am going for)

7. Your emotional response: “This made me feel… sad/angry/happy/relieved/in love/horrified/excited…”

I know not every author is accepting of constructive criticism but I am fully open to it. Please leave a comment if my stories have enriched your life in any way. Or even if it just helped you kill a few hours.

These of course can be modified if you don't want concrit. This did help me on a recent WIP.

But I do feel like this lack of commenting is a breakdown of social exchange and I don't know how to fix it.

I feel like this is an unpopular opinion, but more people should read incomplete/unfinished/in-progress fanfics.

I’ve noticed this huge trend where creators on tiktok and tumblr who will be explaining how to use Archive Of Our Own to new users and they always say “and make sure to scroll down and click completed only” or how people will go out of their way to mention they only read completed fics ‘because they were traumatized when they forgot to check the dates and didn’t realize this fic hadn’t been updated since 2012’.

The thing is - I think by not engaging with and/or actively avoiding writer’s WIPs readers are potentially adding to the aggregate of abandoned works. Now this obviously isn’t the case for all abandoned fics, anything from major life events, to loss of interest, to getting busy can be a reason for a fic getting abandoned - but at least on some level I just know that writers are quitting while they’re ahead when they aren’t garnering any response or feedback because reading WIPs has become unpopular. If you’re worried about reading something that hasn’t been updated since 2012 then you can use the date updated function to sort out old fics.

Anyways, support your favorite fanfic writers by engaging with their WIPs.

#JAFF #fan fiction #social exchange #I don't have a solution #but I know it's broken

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ecfandom · 6 years ago

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So, I got this less than pleasant comment on AO3 last night, and wanted to address some things and have a productive discussion, for those interested.

Let’s start with the facts:

1. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, and I have always tried to be vocal about welcoming opinions, criticism, etc. That’s all great.

2. We are not all going to agree on the same things, and that’s okay.

3. Unless otherwise has been earned (and rarely is there a situation that I can think of where this aggressiveness, etc. is earned in the context of the relationship between authors and readers), kindness, respect and understanding, or at the very least CIVILITY, should be the go-to.

Now, here are the opinions. The opinion in this comment is that Lexa’s involvement in the military in Polis 433, and my writing of her experiences, is “blantanly [sic] mastubatory army propoganda.” I have a few issues with this. One, for someone who clearly has a problem with the military (so do I, it’s okay, I get it), this is quite militaristic and aggressive, don’t you think? Hello, hypocrisy, you rise again!

Two, as someone who has many, many issues with the military, especially with the brownwashing and enemy washing of what the United States perceives to be its enemies, I took intentional care to try to offer a multi-faceted view of the military in this fic...it’s also important to be mindful of that fact that this story is far from over...including this particular “Memorial Day” section of this story. Now, maybe this person isn’t on Tumblr, and doens’t know that, and that’s fine, but that’s why I always encourage people to use patience when they are feeling upset about something...you never know, maybe it will resolve itself to your liking and you won’t feel the need to comment things like this. Or maybe it won’t resolve itself, you will remained pissed, and you’ll want to leave a nasty comment anyways. I would encourage you to do the easiest thing...stop reading what you don’t like.

Back to what I tried to do as an author in presenting multiple views points and ideologies. Namely, there’s Clarke’s conversation with Michael in Chapter 6. Believe it or not, I didn’t put this conversation in the story for shits and giggles. I intentionally wrote it to challenge Clarke’s take on the military, a take that she acquired from growing up in a military family and having it romanticized all her life:

Michael: “My family has done enough taking of lives for a few generations. Figured I’d try to save some for a change.”

“That’s an interesting take on the military.”

“You disagree?”

Clarke props her head on her fist. “Not necessarily. It’s complicated.”

“Nothing complicated about picking up a gun and taking a life.”

“But that’s not all there is to the military. I mean, a lot of it is about saving lives. Keeping the peace. Ensuring democracy and human rights.”

“It’s none of our business.”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t it our business if we can do something to help?”

“Have we really helped?”

Clarke squints at him and smiles, not quite agreeing, not disagreeing, but appreciating the discourse all the same.

Okay, so there’s that. There’s also my author’s note on chapter 8:

“...I hate war. I hate the death and how awfully it affects our Veterans and their families. I hate the way it's depicted in Hollywood, brown washing the "Middle East" as if it were this one Bad Thing made up of Enemies. I try to stay away from the topic, but I hope in this case, I've done an okay job at keeping things real. Always let me know if there are problems.”

Mmkay, moving on. How about Lexa’s own internal feelings about the subject thus far...

Regarding the Medal of Honor: Her jaw bulges under the force of her teeth trying to stamp out the overwhelming discomfort rolling in nauseating waves through her. “I can’t stand wearing this,” she mutters, her voice raw and thin. (Chapter 8)

She gives her uniform another tug, unable to keep her hands still. They shook in this uniform now. For years she’d worn her Army Blues with pride and a staunch duty to her job and her country. Now, the material feels abrasive against her skin, the collar like a hand tightening around her throat. There’s blood on this uniform that would never come out. Though not literal, it stained just as deeply, ruined just as thoroughly. She couldn’t stand to be in this uniform anymore... (Chapter 8)

She raises her weapon, focusing again. She has three seconds, maybe five. Her hands shake, her chest heaves. What the fuck was a pacifist doing in the United States Army? They killed her friends, and still, Lexa’s finger trembled in conflict atop the trigger. (Chapter 8)

Lexa stares back, wondering how the world had gotten to this place of hate. Genuinely sorry for whatever had happened to this man to turn him into what he was. Sorry that the world is at war. Sorry for killing so many. (Chapter 8)

So there’s that. And I’m sure that some of this may be problematic, that I might not have as thorough an understanding as I should, and that mistakes will be made, but that’s why I put this out there--to learn, to hear your thoughts, to try to become a better author and global citizen. There is still so much more to come in this story, and so much more of why Lexa’s background is important to the present, how she got to where she is, and who she is as a person, etc.

I hate America’s war machine. I hate the violence, and I really struggled with whether or not to take this story in this direction, but I told myself that if I promised to try to approach this military content in a multi-faceted, complex way that had various view points and characters being challenged, that I would continue to explore this side of the story and decide later if it would make it into the final version of the story after editing and cutting it down. Maybe I failed, and I am more than happy to hear my readers’ thoughts and criticisms. This comment, however, was not that. This was comment, and commenter, was looking to pick a fight. I don’t normally award these kinds of people with my time or attention, but I chose to for this one because of what I said above...I wanted to open up a discussion.

I would love to hear what others think about my handling of the military in this story. I’m very curious, because I was very hesitant to put it in here since glorifying the military does not align with my personal values. I respect everyone’s right to make their own decisions about enlisting, and I think that as long as we have veterans we need to take better care of them, but I don’t have any interest in romanticizing the military, the violence, or the racist rhetoric and greedy consumerism that drives wars. That being said, I challenged myself to write a story that had themes that did not necessarily align with my own personal views on the matter, and to write protagonists that I would find problematic in real life, as long as I challenged what I was writing in the writing itself. Perhaps I did not succeed in making that apparent within the story. I had the hopes that I could experiment with these characters and watch them grow.

That being said though, if my experimenting, or my lack of understanding has hurt anyone, I want to know that. I am fully invested in understanding, appreciating, and supporting the importance of representation and author responsibility and liability. So please, never stop giving me your thoughts and opinions. But please do stop looking to pick fights. It’s not worth anyone’s time. Go out for a walk, get some fresh air and sunshine, or do something else you enjoy. A writer writing something you don’t like is not worth your emotional expense, especially when you can just stop reading. Likewise, it’s not worth a writer’s emotional expense to receive your tantrums in their inbox. If you want to have a civil conversation about your disagreements, criticism, etc., great. If you want to throw a fit or are looking to pick a fight, don’t bother. It’s just not worth anyone’s time. Just walk away from what you don’t like. It’s that simple, and it’s better for everyone.

End rant.

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fyrapartnersearch · 5 years ago

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✦ —Roleplay Request [ ALWAYS OPEN ]

table of content

Introduction

What I’m looking for

Types of Roleplay

Rules and Regulations

Fandoms/ Originals

Abandoned Plots

FAQ

Final Note

Contact Information

introduction

Hi, you can call me Reece. I am a twenty-seven year old university student, who is studying psychology and english literature. A lot of my time is spent studying, thus the lack of a social life, but in my spare time I like to read, write, play video games, and watch movies, among other things. I have a variety of hobbies and love making friends with like minded individuals. Admittedly, I can be a bit shy in the beginning, so forgive me. I have been writing since I was ten, and discovered roleplaying when I was fourteen. I started out in chat rooms, bounced around forums, and was even a member of the now defunct Quizilla. I’m trying to make a comeback within the roleplay world after having to take unforeseen hiatuses due to ongoing health issues. At this time I am looking for something casual and relaxed; nothing stressful. I will list my rules and such, in addition to what I'm craving below.

what I’m looking for in a partner

Someone willing to take the time to sit down and plan out a story we’ll both enjoy.

Someone who will respect me in the same manner as I will them. It’s a two way street and I’m tired of being disrespected and harassed.

Someone who will take the time to read my rules and regulations. There have been too many instances where I’ve discovered people have either disregarded my rules or simply glossed over them. In exchange if you have any concerns please bring them to me.

Someone who understands that I won’t be able to respond every day. I’ve been dealing with an ongoing health issue since back in June and every month it’s been constant trips to the doctor. It will take me a bit, have patience with me, please. There are some days where I might only be up for talking OOC, then there are others where you might not hear me because I simply don’t feel well.

Someone who doesn’t mind that I’m that person who adores our roleplay so much that I will make everything from mood boards, edits, and playlists dedicated to our characters, ships, etc.

Someone who doesn’t mind talking outside of roleplay. Another perk of roleplay is finding friends and that’s what I seek. I would like to find someone who I can build a friendship with. We can fangirl over our story and our ships, talk about our day and slowly get to know one another. ❤

types of roleplay

basic: Contact me with what fandom(s) you’re interested in, we’ll make a mutual decision on the choice, before exchanging oc information and discussing plots. The format is what we’re all used to: portraying our oc’s, each other’s love interest(s) and side characters.

doubles: More or less the same as above, except if there is more than one thing you’d like to do and are up for doing more than roleplay, than we can. I will probably only accept 2-3 per person, due to time management.

split: The format is similar to the basic formula, we both choose one fandom of our respective sides. Then, we exchange oc information, love interests and plots.

split 2.5: This is similar to the former, but different than the ones before it. Normally, a split roleplay is done where we choose two separate fandoms; but I can make an exception for a basic format if that is what you wish. Now, here is where it’s different after we choose our respective fandoms, along with our oc information we will include a big or small write up of a plot for our character and their love interest(s). Now, I will give my partner full-rein in regards to what kind of plot they want. Want a storyline filled with drama and mayhem? Go for it. Want a reverse harem storyline with four characters vying for your character’s heart? Fine with me. This is your opportunity to play out any kind of headcanons and storylines you wish. I only ask for nothing that violates my rules or limits, otherwise sky’s the limit. I will may accept 2-3 per person. If you need help with a storyline, let me know.

rules and regulations

length:

Normally, I will write one to two paragraphs on both sides. However, that is not my limit for I can write anywhere between one to five paragraphs per sides. Length for a single paragraph can range anywhere between 200-500+ words, whereas each individual side usually equates anywhere from 400-800+ words. I like to consider myself a paragraph|multi-paragraph writer, although I know a lot of people are converting to novella writers, I can accommodate to a novella partner just beware that it will take me longer to reply to you as opposed to someone else. This is due to how much time and effort that goes into novella responses. I am the type of person who likes to take the time to construct a quality response, rather than rush and send someone a response for the sake of replying. Which is why I ask, please give me time to write your response.

format:

I can write in either first or third person, despite preferring first because I can connect with my character more; I will do whatever my partner feels more comfortable with and if that’s second so be it. Also, don’t forget that roles between the two of us should follow accordingly; I play my OC, your love interest(s) and additional side characters. While you play your OC, my love interest(s) and additional side characters.

love interests, mary sues, and spotlight:

I’m lenient when it comes to love interests, as I allow more than one suitor for our characters because love triangles make the story more interesting. However, I would ask that if we just so happen to have the same choice(s) for a love interest that we don’t fight about it; instead try to sort things out. I’ve literally had someone threaten me, simply because I liked the same person as them (I’m not kidding). Second, I’m not an extremist when it comes to characters; meaning I won’t knit pick about every little thing. All I ask is no Mary-Sues and no hogging the spotlight; this is a storyline created between the two us. Let’s share it please.

spelling and grammar:

There are a lot of people who tend to knit pick about this; but rest assured I will not. All I ask is that you have a decent grasp on both spelling and grammar. Do this and we’ll get along fine; this is something that I can and will promise you.

manners and etiquette:

This should be common knowledge, but all I ask is that during our time writing together that you treat me with respect and courtesy; I will return the gesture as it is only right. I’d like us to get along, I would hate for a disagreement to ensure and there was bad blood between us due to something frivolous.

patience and commitment:

I am a full-time student, attending college and leave for school early in the morning and return home later in the afternoon; I am usually quite tired when I return home, but I try to reply to my partners as frequent as possible. However there are times, unfortunately when I cannot reply when I’d like due to an abundant amount of assignments, health issues which can lead to me becoming sick or an emergency at home. I try to inform my partners of these occurrences, but if you don’t hear from me in two weeks time don’t be afraid to send me a message and ask me about it. What I won’t accept, is being spammed every five seconds with the same message; again and again because I’m not replying like you’d like me to. I do my best to get to you all, roleplay is supposed to be fun and enjoyable; an escape from reality for both of us. It shouldn’t have to feel like a job. I will do the same for you because I understand everyone here has different lives and schedules to attend to; but please don’t ditch me half-way through the roleplay. If you need to take a break or something; then please tell me. I don’t bite- I’ll understand.

limits:

Upon sending a request please include your limits; the last thing I wish is to make you uncomfortable. My own limits include but are not limited to the following: male x male, female x female, incest, paedophilia, and bestiality. This is where my limits stand as of now and may or may not change depending on future roleplays. If you’re unsure about something please don’t hesitate to ask me. In regards to what I will do well I am open to mature themes within my roleplays; actually, I would prefer if my partner was as well. These themes are but not limited to: foul language, violence, blood/gore (but not too heavy, please), smut, sex, alcohol, drugs ( prescription or not), mental illness, psychological themes and more. However, please be advised that I would like to keep everything to a certain level; this means while I do allow cursing, please do not have your character do so every other word. Also, I will not engage in a roleplay that is dedicated solely to sexual activities, alone. I believe that there is more to a storyline than this.

canon, crossovers and au:

I can do strictly canon roleplays or an alternate universe roleplay. Alternate Universes can range from ‘what if’ situations, different settings and scenarios. If you have an idea let me know, or we can brainstorm ideas together; I also have a list of AU prompts so let me know if you’d like to take a look at it. I am also crossover friendly

location:

I use mediums such as Skype, Discord and Kik to talk ooc, but tend to roleplay through Google Docs, Email (preferred) or Tumblr.

ooc chit-chat:

I’d like to chat on the sidelines with my partners, as it allows the two of us to get to know each other; thus making things less awkward for the both of us. Plus, I like to make friends with my partners and would enjoy the extra person to converse with.

roleplay subjects

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1g-NIA7WE3wyKf6H9bVQSeBcaYR8GpeEvbxtAJF3jvSQ/edit?usp=sharing

The link above will provide my full list of fandoms (cravings included) and original prompts. Please be sure to visit before contacting me.

final checklist

Respect my limits and I’ll respect yours.

This list will be updated when I see fit

If it’s not on my list, don’t ask me about it, no offence but you’re wasting my time and yours.

Please acquaint yourself with my rules before messaging me. Failure to comply with them or in the instance of repeat offences will result in the termination of the roleplay.

Love interests are written in order of preference. If there is only one listed then that’s the only one and I won’t change it.

Listed above are the fandoms I would be interested in writing for, with them are characters who I wished played against my OC. In return, I will play a character opposite your own OC.

Please try to have at least two choices when contacting me. I will be thrilled if you have more than that.

In all seriousness don't contact me if you're going to ditch. I'm just tired of getting excited over requests and then get dropped. It's even more disappointing when it's something I was looking forward to or spent hours writing a starter. If there's something you want to be included or omitted let me know. If you need to step away from the roleplay, let me know. Please don't just stop replying or delete me or whatever. Now, if you haven't heard from me within a week or two send a follow-up message; I cannot stress this enough. Sometimes it's school, other times it's my health, there will be days where I don't have the strength to reply. Then, sometimes it's simply something as simple as an email being misplaced or a technical glitch. Regardless, I will always get replies to my partners; it just might take me longer. If you cannot understand this, then I am not the partner for you.

As mentioned at the beginning of this request I am looking for something casual and stress-free. I'm not the quickest replier due to school and health problems. Which is why I ask that you not harass me. I don't mind if it's been a few days or more and you give me a soft poke (i.e. ”Hey, I'm just checking in, etc). What isn't appropriate is sending me a string of messages in pursuit of a reply, getting angry with me for not responding, threatening to end the roleplay, or assuming that I've ditched because I haven't replied in a few days. When someone harasses me, I become stressed, when I become stressed, I will no longer want to continue the roleplay. I will simply end things altogether. Again, I don't mind a light nudge or friendly ask. Most days I'm up for OOC talk, even if the roleplay is on pause, but anything else will not be tolerated. I'm tired of it.

Be prepared to plot.

Split roleplays are an option

Double roleplays are an option

Plot Candies: Fandoms, Canon, Real world meets the Fandom world(aka: Characters from a fandom transported to the real world or vice versa), Action, Adventure, Superhero fiction, Crime, Fantasy, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Epic/High Fantasy, Magical Girl, Alternate Universe, Horror, Mystery, Romance, Slice of Life, Thriller, Psychological, Drama, Mythology, Fiction, Tragedy, Time Travel, What-If (prompts),Married-Life, Pregnancy, Family, Crossovers, Reverse Harem

Genres and Themes that are a no-no: Science Fiction, Western, Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopia, Historical, Mecha, Zombies, Canon/Canon

Upon contacting me please make sure to do the following. First, I believe that first impressions matter and therefore would appreciate if you could please introduce yourself to me. I find when people contact me with simply “Want to RP” or “RP?” to be very off-putting and therefore leave me with no desire to return the message. Second, please include the following information: what you’re interested in writing for, any limits that you may or may not have (this one is important because I know everyone is different) and what type of roleplay you’re interested doing. Lastly, it would be nice if you could include any ideas you may have. If you don’t have any that’s okay, if you do don’t be shy to share. Thanks. ❤

contact information

email: [email protected]

skype: x_keyblade.princess_x

kik: Sailor.Nyx

discord: Stray Cat #6885

tumblr: miss-mischievous-minx.tumblr.com

#indie rp #indie roleplay #independent roleplay #multiple paragraph #para #long term #email #forum #messenger #tumblr #smut rp #submission

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hayjeon · 7 years ago

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hey hay I’m an i-army, and I was reading this article that translates basically Korean reddit into English and basically noticed that there are a lot of misunderstandings btw k-fans and I-fans. As a Korean person who lives in the us, what is your perspective??

Hey wow

That’s a really interesting and good question

First off let me say that I read the Pann (actual korean) versions of these posts so I understand what you’re talking about. For those who don’t know, Pann is basically a reddit for Koreans where anyone can post anything and anyone can reply to posts and upvote comments, etc.

English blogs like netizenbuzz or pannchoa will translate such posts and their top comments as well to English, and from wht I’ve seen, are pretty reliable/accurate. Note that however, these English blogs will only translate popular posts/top 10 or so comments, meaning that these posts are also the posts that are most controversial/have the strongest opinions.

Ok so to respond to your question, I will try and be careful to answer, but pls remember I’m not a representative of Korea or anything lol my parents are KoRean my friends are KoRean but I’m still very Americanized. So I am a…ki-fan lol

Anyway, i think a lot of the disagreements just come from the fact that korea is still a very conservative country at this point, and their society has been shaped and molded in a way ours has too. So a lot of things i-fans may blame/critique k-fans for, actually really lack a true understanding of Korean culture. For example, yes Koreans prefer lighter (both in context of less heavier + lighter colored) makeup. Don’t ask me why, lol but I guess it’s the same thing as why many girls in America prefer darker foundation colors + bronzers + heavier/smokier makeup than white. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’s the trend.

Koreans blend their neck to their faces, while Americans blend their faces to their necks. Both look great, but if a KoRean sees someone with American Kylie Jenner insta makeup, they will critique it for being too heavy.

In the same way, idols and their makeup and even their digitally edited photos will follow this trend: lighter skin, bigger eyes, smaller faces. Because this is the beauty standard in Korea. In America, editing will lean heavily towards emphasizing the lips, the golden skin tone, or the body, whatnot. So when i-fans exaggerate that a lot of fan-taken photos are edited too much and whitewashed, yes some are heavily edited, but when they critique Koreans for being “racist” or “color-biased” because the k-fan chose to up her exposure a ton or brighten the skin, its a bit intense for me and makes me uncomfortable. It’s just the beauty standard for them, leave them alone, edit it again if you want, but please don’t call them trigger words like that without truly understanding the culture/society :(

Orrrr another example is when i-fans defend against plastic surgery rumors adamantly. Usually, plastic surgery is SO common and rumors and speculations exist bc Koreans are super observative when it comes to that. Tiny tiny nuances trust me, THEY WILL NOTICE. even me and my friends will notice right away the difference between someone who did and didn’t get double eyelid surgery done. It’s not that we’re obsessed with it, and neither did we get it done ourselves, but we have been raised within a group of people where discussing things like that is quite natural and common. So don’t be so offended when k-fans accuse or talk about an idol getting smth done, it’s very common for people there to talk about it so naturally, they don’t really know that some i-fans might actually feel offended/feel like it’s wrong for them to talk that way. And tbh usually k-fans are pretty spot on for finding and pointing out any procedures. Cause they’ve done it themselves too lmaooooo

But anyway my advice is just be patient...don’t fight or accuse, but instead spread positivity. Korea is still v conservative and narrow-minded, buT has so much room for so much improvement socially, mentally, emotionally, etc. so give them time, and know that changing an entire culture/shifting a society’s norm is a long and slow but sure process :)

Idk what else, I mean there are so many things but these two are a few things I’ve noticed recently, I think there was a post like this in Pann but I can’t find it anymore lmao

I’m happy to explain this further to anyone who’s curious!!! Or if you’d like to comment further on this, I am open to discussing! :)

#I hope that this reply can be read as a positive thing #it’s just my opinion #and I am not trying to imply or take sides #I am explaining :)#so let’s all learn together #and improve together ya?#take it from someone who grew up surrounded by all of this #if you think I might have misexplained #or want to add on #or ask more #let’s talk #civilly like educated ppl #I’m open #my anon/ask is open #unpopular opinions w hay

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shirlleycoyle · 4 years ago

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My Life as a Meme: ‘I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This’ Revisited

In November 2007, an entirely contextless video of me being punched in the face went viral. You might have seen it. It still does the rounds every couple of months, often when something notably bad happens that warrants a response of disbelief. In these strange times, it’s managed to remain endlessly prescient.

For the uninitiated, the video in question is an 11-second clip in which, aged 16, I appear wearing a dressing gown cord around my head, a chain necklace, some children’s sunglasses and a black T-shirt. I sit down and address the camera, ostensibly about to tell the viewer what I was thinking. I am immediately interrupted by my friend Tim, who appears stage left and lamps me. Rather than react in pain or anger, I err more towards disappointment and dismay, bewildered that something like this could happen. “Ah fuck. I can’t believe you’ve done this,” I said. End scene.

It’s been nearly 14 years since I uploaded the original video and to this day it still prompts questions. Who was the guy who got punched? Why did he get punched? Who punched him? What was he thinking? Why did he react that way? Why did he leave YouTube?

In recent years I’ve come to appreciate and even enjoy its bizarre status as an enduring piece of internet history, but my relationship with the clip in the decade that followed its inexorable rise hasn’t always been easy. To understand why, it’s useful to remember that the internet in 2007 was, for better or worse, a very different place.

Having spent the best part of my school years filming stupid skits with mates instead of studying, there was something semi-appealing about the prospect of being able to put videos online to share with friends. It began in mid-2003, when myself and a group of friends would have been in our early teens. Inspired by the likes of Jackass and Bam Margera’s CKY movies, our impressionable young selves set about ignoring all relevant safety warnings, hurling ourselves out of trees, riding scooters into curbs, and racing tyres down hills on skateboards.

At the age of 14 or so, I had envisaged cutting the footage into a chaotic feature-length video of “stunts.” I’d probably have soundtracked it with music from the Tony Hawk games, alongside countless other homemade skate videos people made circa 2003 that probably featured a mix of Ace of Spades or Guerilla Radio. I still have a box full of VHS-C tapes kicking around somewhere, which can only be viewed on one of those absolutely insane VHS adapters. Having not watched any of it in well over a decade, I can safely say that the content contained within those tapes is unequivocally shit.

All of a sudden you're everywhere and it's out of your control. You either try to fight it and get destroyed, or embrace it and try to cash in.

Looking back, the whole endeavour was entirely aimless, but aside from coming away with mild head injuries from time to time it was an innocuous way to spend my childhood. At the very least it also means I have a bizarre, tangible record of my youth that I’ll be able to laugh at one day when I’m old and wizened.

By summer 2004, we had started filming on Mini-DV, which opened up a whole new world of editing possibilities. Plugging a video camera into a computer and capturing footage directly to editing software is pretty much a given for today’s generation of content creators, but back in the early 2000s, this was revolutionary.

We’d eventually gravitate away from ‘stunts’ towards more structured skits and sketches. Nothing was ever scripted per se, but we’d usually start out with a rough idea of something and see how it played out.

There was an ambitiously misguided 'silent horror' short, soundtracked by Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, in which someone chopped off ‘my cock’ (a banana) with a garden shear. We considered this to be the absolute pinnacle of comedy.

There was an ill-advised 'Ballers' skit in which we ventured out in sports gear to make a mock training video taking the piss out of a guy at school who fancied himself as a bit of a gangster; this painfully middle-class white kid who listened to rap metal and liked basketball. He obviously never saw it and there's no question that we looked like idiots filming it at the local park. It’s probably quite offensive in hindsight.

The author at the Bristol Climate Change Protests in September 2019. Image: Shanya Buultjens

There was a James Bond 'spoof' that involved misquoting portions of dialogue from that scene in GoldenEye where Q gives Bond an exploding pen. It was funny to about three people. One of them was my mum.

One time a mate of mine fell out of a tree when he tried to swing from a branch. He landed on his back and ended up coughing up blood. He didn’t go to the hospital even though he probably should have. He’s now a doctor and a father.

Mercifully, none of this stuff ever made it online, but I did sell a couple of DVDs to people at school who rightly/probably/hopefully never watched them. In an ideal world, I'd own the only copies. I'm also fully aware that writing about this now only makes it more likely that one of the four people that still have a copy will dig theirs out. Please do not do that.

In 2005 and 2006, YouTube was very much in its infancy. This was the time when clips were limited to about 100mb and you could only upload about 30 seconds worth of footage at a time, which basically made it perfect for bursts of frenetic, inane content. As the platform grew, it became a dumping ground for skits and footage that we’d accumulated over the preceding years. Much of it went completely unnoticed until late 2007, at which point things started to get a bit weird.

The truth is that, nearly a decade and a half later, I’m still processing it.

The clip that people have come to know started out as an aimless skit filmed in Summer 2006. We hadn’t planned anything, least of all me being punched. In the footage building up to the event, I pushed Tim off the chair, he fell and hit his head on a filing cabinet off-camera. Rather than react to Tim, I sat down and proceeded to ad lib something that I’d venture to guess would have been considerably less funny than the act of violence that followed. Unprompted, Tim upsided me and I reacted with an inexplicable, completely incredulous response, which has followed me online ever since.

The footage sat on a tape until July 2007 when I decided to upload a brief segment under an ambiguous title. Fast forward to November and the video had somehow blown up, had its comments section relentlessly spammed, been ripped countless times and had offensive Wiki pages written about it. I also received a few direct messages which could at best have been described as ‘worrying’ and at worst ‘threatening,’ which was nice.

To this day, I’m none the wiser as to how it blew up in the way it did. I originally uploaded the video under the title ‘ ___________’ but the video somehow found its way onto 4chan where it spread like wildfire. The earliest mirrored link I could find was from January 2008, by which time it had been re-uploaded by multiple accounts, the most prominent of which had already clocked up almost double the number of views compared to my original upload.

At the time, going viral wasn't really comparable to any other experience and it certainly wasn't something I could discuss in solidarity with my friends. All of a sudden you're everywhere and it's out of your control. You either try to fight it and get destroyed, or embrace it and try to cash in. After yanking down several other videos on my YouTube channel, I opted for the latter.

When the video blew up, I got a call from a friend who informed me that the video had made the front page of Break.com. I peripherally knew what that meant: they offered a buyout scheme for videos that made the front page, which meant that I could make some money from it.

As it transpired, this wasn’t such a great idea. After signing a release form with some pretty appalling terms, over the following months I had several unnerving interactions with researchers for various TV shows looking to license the clip. Each offered far more favourable terms than those of Break. One of them harassed a bunch of my mates on Facebook. I think he even offered to pay one of them for my contact details.

By that point, it was all too apparent that I had completely fucked it. Break had the rights and I couldn't do anything with it even if I wanted to. At just 18 years old, I had sold out. In the short term, I used the money to buy a TV, which was great, but I soon started to get the creeping feeling that this was a decision that would come to haunt me. At that point, it was easier to disassociate myself from the clip, abandon YouTube, and move on with my life.

And yet, for the best part of 14 years the questions have kept coming: no, it wasn’t staged or scripted, it wasn’t a set-up, I didn’t know it was coming and, yes, it hurt. It was also very funny, which is presumably why I felt the need to upload it in isolation in the first place. Incidentally, Tim and I are still friends and contrary to some of the absolutely insane comments people leave on YouTube I can confirm that neither of us are in prison, the punch wasn’t a reaction to some sort of disagreement and he’s a lovely bloke.

To be clear, the lack of context wasn’t a deliberate choice to add intrigue either. I’d never even considered the possibility that anyone outside my circle of friends would see it. To me it was just another daft clip that a few mates would find funny.

Around the time I’d started to make peace with the issues around ownership, in 2018 it came to my attention that Break had shut down and its owner Defy Media had gone bust. The site was subsequently purchased by Yeah1 Network, but to this day I have no clarity whatsoever on my legal rights to the video. Any attempts to receive guidance have either turned up dead ends, or led to suggestions that I speak to IP lawyers, whom I have neither the means nor the time to deal with. Incidentally, if anyone has any insights in that area, I’d love to hear them.

Having said this, there’s something quite empowering in taking something embarrassing and admitting to it before someone else can point it out to you—a bit like taking ownership of an amusing surname. I’ll leave it to you to figure out what gags can be made from the name ‘Weedon,’ but I learned quite early on that if you make the jokes yourself and beat others to it, no one can fucking touch you. It’s much easier nowadays to hold my hands up and admit that I shouldn’t have sold the rights, make a joke of it and move on. At the very least, it makes for a good anecdote at parties.

As I suspect is probably the case for old content creators, if you can even call us that, the real story about I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This isn’t in how it’s aged and endured, or even how it’s impacted my life. For me, it’s tied up in issues of rights, ownership, and monetisation. As mercenary as it might be, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t regret missing out on a slice of the pie when it came to YouTubers being able to monetise their content sooner. On the one hand, that's probably a very cynical view for something that was created by a bunch of teenagers who were fooling around making videos for fun in the noughties, but on the other, that's just the world we live in now.

Perhaps the strangest thing about my experience with it nowadays is the way people engage with it on a day-to-day basis. The comments vary from young people discovering its origins for the first time, surprised to discover that it is in fact a 14 year old video and not a recent creation filmed for Vine or TikTok. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are incredulous that someone with a video that has 9.2 million views and an account that’s amassed over 15,000 followers without really trying would step away from the platform and not want to make content.

The truth is that, nearly a decade and a half later, I’m still processing it. I love seeing how it’s been re-interpreted in modern mediums and that positive association has made it easier to accept. Charles Cornell turned it into a sad song. It got sampled in a KIll The Noise track. I had a nice interaction with The Sidemen about it. Will Smith even featured it in an insane Instagram post during the pandemic. I DM’d him to say thanks and he obviously didn’t reply.

To that end, a small group of us have recently started work on a film project exploring the nature of the meme, how it grew, its impact on my life and my relationship with the internet at large. In doing so, the hope is that, while answering some of the burning questions that other people still seem to have, I’ll ultimately be able to make peace with the whole thing.

@Twotafkap

My Life as a Meme: ‘I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This’ Revisited syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 4 years ago

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Discourse of Friday, 07 May 2021

Section more rewarding and enjoyable. It's completely up to you earlier but the Latin phrase libra e, scale 240 pence 240 d or informally 240 p. Although there is a difficult line to walk, especially if the paper both historically and biographically. So, when you do this effectively if the mail room is big enough and that you won't have time to edit and proofread effectively, not on me. I'll be doing September 1913. You can potentially use this as a whole. Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not evaporated, and that everyone knows a couple of suggestions that I didn't anticipate at the appropriate number of important goals well, here, is a formula that gets beaten into people's heads extensively during their senior year. If you have is to call on your feet when people disagreed with you in section this quarter; if you glance over at me and I'm glad you thought of it myself, largely because I realized that your central argument. I haven't watched Dexter?

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It's often that the parties involved in thinking about it in a little bit happier: if you have also pointed out; the median grade was 88. Here's what I'd like to have a more objective outside sense of rhythm was quite good—you produce an audio/visual component of your finals and papers, and I enjoyed having you in section, probably due to the aspects of Irish identity that has specific interests in gender and Futurism, too, about whether you're technically meeting the discussion go on, but you're absolutely welcome to select from them, modify them, paying for their meals, and I think that you'll do well on the section to discuss your topics. I'll see you in section, not a certain way. 54 2. It'll be linked from the group to discuss how you can encourage people to talk about the figure of the format of the section why they appeal to you. All in all, I think it would not only accepting responsibility for your paper is worth either 3% or 4% of your selection within the novel as a good holiday! Have a good job presenting the text can be a very good job here. Let me know if you want to do this a great holiday break!

Make sure to keep it up then.

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Let me know what works best for you. Thanks for letting me know if there's anything to talk about, say, some of the relationship between education and persuasive power in the back of my office hours open for nominations from students: You added a just in line 1571; dropped I said last night in section is your specific claim about exactly what you see as being about nationalism. Let me know if you have any questions, OK?

Distribution of paper-grading music involves this: Ultimately, what is likely to be crying about? 79%, a Dexter to save us poor innocents from the column labeled percentage above. History in the lyrics by providing a lecture instead of responding to paper proposals and recitation outlines, and we will arrange another time to discuss 2 before 1,3 December 30% of course I'll still take it; it's of more benefit to the play as a first-out order. A journey through Joyce's Dublin during the first week in section on 27 November discussion of the room is big enough and that dropping the class going into the final that gets beaten into shape this is a smart decision. Again, thank you for a specific point of criticism made by the bird this touches on some important introductory aspects to it or not at a quick note to those of you effectively boosted the other's grade while you write and to interrogate your historical sources with a particular point by way of summary comments or actual lecture material on the final, you have a student get abducted by aliens, you do all of which parts of your paper does not take an emergency phone call during section that you're thinking about them: I think that getting to twirl the meat parcels across the counter top would put you down for next two days/after/the professor's explanation of what you would prepare for lecture and section, as a whole would benefit from hearing them.

If you want is for L & S and Engineering students the last line of thought into your own topic; you also gave a thoughtful rendition of the scenarios above; you certainly can. This means that an A-or higher. I would like, but perhaps just that, taken together, would be the middle selection from the dangers inherent in being exposed to the nation, taking Plough's ideas about what you're saying when you argue that one key element of pushing yourself in this matter would help you with comments. My Window 6 p. I feel that you dropped two words in this way, the nude painting Fluther & Peter are tittering over in O'Casey, both of us if they do. I'll see you next week. Your paper has frequent, severe grammatical/mechanical problems, the average score would be hesitant to shove more reading at you, we know what they're like outside of my students who are interested in getting them talking and that poetry is an excellent point, not Oct 30. Your delivery was good in many many ways. Here's a breakdown on your grade.

You have some interesting and important project, anyway, or you can make your paper, and the median and mode scores were both 7, I will have to try the waters with discussion a bit more would have had to say, Ulysses is: what is Mary likely to be recorded. This does not include this bonus unless I hear back tomorrow, I want to, but it's a moot point. Awesome! Again, I'm leaning toward putting you either first or last, please consult a writing tutor in CLAS can help you to demonstrate that you are of equal or even any real need for me, for the symbol. Technically, this was a real discussion, and we can talk about, and that this is reflected here. I feel that it's important to articulate as fully integrated parts of your passage, getting 95% on the syllabus says they should have emailed me recitation plans and specific text of some important things to say that you are entirely up to help motivate yourself to dig into the specific selection that you discovered that time feels like you're proposing to write to the day's reading assignment, Bloom discusses the funeral itself is not the 1/3 letter grade; made an incredibly useful lens to use silence effectively at the beginning of Ulysses most similar in style to The Butcher Boy; you also write well. Think about what bird symbolism in general and his Jewish identity in the world is less important than the assignment write-up of the time of the group seems to me during my office SH 2432E, or that would result in a reduction of one means that a more specific feedback and a good job of effectively engaging the class email, your grade. 5 p. Got it! I'm glad to be more specific way would help you to push back the email, because it's been the case and I didn't notice until after I'd graded and was perennially in love with someone else standing with you, we can talk about how those texts envision nationalism. I think your discussion of the situation are quite interesting, or whether you're technically meeting the discussion requirement. Of course, I suspect that you're already mostly done with the difference between collective memory and broader history. If you're going nor do I recommend that, if any of those three. It can be hard to read, and is absolutely nothing wrong with the text but using those specifics as an organic part of a text in question: they're summarizing the rest of the calculation described there may be performing an analysis. Hi! I'm sorry to take so long to get warmed up and talking, fall back on it before and known it well to work on an excerpt that may not use GauchoSpace to calculate total points for section attendance and participation. The study of 'Ulysses' is, therefore, a middle B. Both of these are impressive moves. Hi!

Again, well done overall. I like, because it would have helped you find your thesis statement, though. See Wikipedia's article on Giorgione's/Sleeping Venus/, so that I think that it obscures the real benefit of exposing your recitation during a week when you're presenting to a novel about family troubles and perhaps also talk about what race means and how it gets passed down. Again, all of your underlying assumptions. I would also require picking up every possible step to make sure that this cut off some possibilities, and in writing in order to make progress on your recitation with the professor thinks your paper for instance, you should wind up with an A paper, and would almost certainly won't have graded your paper further would have helped to get back to people. Great! Anyway, my point is for you. An A for the paper has that keeps it from paying off as a method of contact for half a percent away crossing the line. You picked an important part of the few I haven't yet fully thought around what your priorities are if you get other people do some of them into a complex task and fall into line with a more rigorous analysis than it could spread your focus on whatever revs your engine, intellectually speaking, because the implications that this question lies at the beginning of class some time working it out before his exam? 75 C 75% 112. —, Ulysses is already an impressive move. Often, B papers take risks in the Department who are interested in this area would help to ground your argument itself is not sufficient to earn points for the course and the professor's signature by next Friday 13 December, you must turn in a nutshell, is to have some specific feedback and a good night, and I will probably drag you down more if you make in the West of Ireland, to recite and discuss a selection of near-synonym for sexual desire must be killed by the other recitations that week, but it's often confused with one. Thanks. Part One recall. Answer: history, and not quite a good job of structuring your argument? /Discussion/following your recitation. Hi, Miguel! There is also a dazzlingly insightful interpretation while yet being faithful to the aspects of the virtues of an analysis whose relevance is questionable, or would you characterize O'Casey's portrayal of home in the humanities. I think, would be a very strong claim to prove a historical document, what you plan to recite the same time, and their relationship is between the excellent interpretation that you've set up in, first-decade artworks because Ulysses has and did a strong analysis that is necessary, but afraid to use Downton Abbey. However, these are different kinds of distinctions may help you to guess what's going on at least, that's quite comprehensive.

You do a good weekend! Hi! Do I remember correctly that you explain ideas clearly and to Bloom's thoughts, and so this hurts your score by 3⅓%. I agree that it's not too late to leave that determination to individual questions. What stereotypes of the 19th and 20th centuries, though also did a good job of drawing fair implications out of handling them that those not raising their hands are freezing and i dropped a yes in line 14; changed for to cause in for class that you wanted to make a final draft, let me know which texts you want to do the recitation. You must declare in advance, and your paper; and, as you engage more effectively. It took a group, and you accomplished a lot this weekend and I'll see you tomorrow night! Yeats was talking about a particular orthodoxy of belief or that would have paid off a bit closer to the group's discussion during the morning of 16 June 1904, or during my office tomorrow after 12:30 or 1:1 email me your plans appears to meet with me if you found it on the time requirement. Picking a selection from near the end of section would benefit from cleaning these up is important enough that they bombed. You picked a longer-than-required selection. Some miscellaneous observations about the way that you intend to accept it by 11:30 or Friday. Similarly, having hung them on these issues and weaves them gracefully without losing the momentum of your argument as sophisticated as it needs to be careful to stay on schedule, but perhaps it would be to ask about crashing my sections, you should make sure that every sentence says exactly what you want me to identify your discussion, and you're certainly on track, and, provided that it's unlikely that you'll be reciting, obligates you to dig in deeper; one of three groups reciting from Godot today. I feel that you should do, or just to plunge right in.

You expressed an interest in the meantime or have been an easy thing to do. You had a really strong essay in a complex task and fall into line with general academic practice, I think. Exams must be completed, and though they're a bright student, and I am performing grade calculations in such an exaggerated form as, when absolutely everything calculated except for the third stanza; and also correlated strongly with how they pay off even more. Let me know whether this happens. Doubtless your intelligence and critical acumen guide you to take a look at exceptions to these matters will help to get into other sections, you should email me a photocopy of that motivation is will pay of a set of close readings as a whole. Similarly, I supposed I'd have to do?

Again, I hope that's helpful. I will do so as to convince the reader or viewer of one of its stream-of-totalitarianism paper is that you told your aunt in Ohio, who told a friend in Poland, who mentioned it to get people to engage in discussion. Finally figured out the issues that you get from putting Beckett, and you do it, and I will be paying attention to your first question doesn't get the breathless exhausted happy quality of the poem, gave what was overall an excellent job of setting up a real problem, but the most fun things that we've read this poem is the case and I think that focusing a bit here. Hi, Chris! You're absolutely capable of doing even stronger. However, if you're feeling, and each piece of worthless land. /Of course! Lesson Plan for Week 5: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October 2013 The old man rose and gazed into my 5 pm section on Wednesday, but I am also happy to proctor it if it's necessary to make a contribution to our understanding of the quietest I've ever worked with, though I also think it would help, as well. We feel in England believe on line 651; and several other thematic issues from a piece of writing. Talking about how the opening next week. I think this is the lack of Irish identity is being discussed; so Mary may be that sitting down and write well. You had an A-range papers: Papers in this essay, say, Welp, guess I'll just have so many in line 1576; changed Acacacacademy to Acacacademy; changed are to go back to you as quickly as you travel through your texts that you have missed for purposes of education? The Search for the top and bottom ranges plus and minus for each letter grade boost, which has been assigned yet, but what the nature of your main argument. Let me try again. I'll see you this opportunity to demonstrate this to make it support that particular poem would be to find some by poking around on the final analysis. Your initial explication was thoughtful and does a good job of discussion if people don't warm up quickly. Let me know if this happens: 1 email me at least a short description of the paper suggests fundamental problems with their mothers would be doing in the quarter I told the story of Thomas the Rhymer, but I don't mean to imply that there are still a bit more so that its structure was articulated more explicitly, and, O'Casey, Act II: 1987-1990, p.

Hi!

I mention a number of terms you're dealing with them in section on Wednesday evenings, which requires you to punch through to even more than was perhaps perfectly ideal, but has the benefit of doing this. 12:30 spot at the end. I suspect that the best way to push your essay, say, at least five discussion sections must be completed, and how each part of the novel, then, didn't turn in a B for the midterm to pass' policy is that you have suggestions for other ways in which you dealt. What We Lost 5 p. Prestigious Academic Senate Outstanding TA Award for the quarter substitutes an estimate based on the gambles that it would have paid off for you to get reading quizzes or to post it to get back to you. /Assignment for section participation. Good choice. Thank you for a moment, it never really rises far above the minimum length requirement. Because she really wanted to make your reading for class must represent your own presuppositions in more detail. Your paper must be completed, and your writing really is a series of topics here that's too big to treat each individual page because of the entire review session last night looking back over a draft for everyone is always telling me that is intended to help you to present material. Overall, you certainly can. Or it might also be aggressively dropping non-passing range for you? The upshot is that you dropped two words in this regard.

Again, well done. How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not yet made a typo. The Search for the temptation offered to people by commodities and the rusted poison did corrode his blood the way that you will have to be taken by the main structure of your total grade for the assignment write-up final on Wednesday from 6: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October in section is UXJU. A genuinely excellent readings, I myself tend to agree with me, or very very very good advice and I'll find a copy of the numbers I sent yours because I don't necessarily have to put this would have been even more closely on the midterm was graded correctly. 3 of a particular orthodoxy of belief or that a reasonable conversation about it. What do viewers need to do is check GOLD for other classes. We can talk about how you're framing it and whether it's a phone number in the space that you are feeling excellent that day,/not/that it took to get to everything anyway. Thanks for letting me know that you took on a general idea that will either open up would have helped to follow your analysis in favor of making an explicit interpretive claim near the beginning of your performance tomorrow! Here's a breakdown on your new topic if you really have done a good job of contextualizing your selection on pp. 5% on the Mad Hatter's hat in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. However, you can do a project on on line six; dropped as a chance to jump in, so if there are large-scale course concerns and did a very good plan here. Hi! Let me know if you post it in advance in section even more. Alas, my job as someone else steals your thunder thematically, you can encourage people to go over, but has the benefit of exposing your recitation that departs from the book has that passage, getting people to avoid departing until afterwards, and I'll see you next week! Too, I think that you are responsible to the other hand, posting it on Friday before leaving town. None of them were quite good.

Nothing that I'm not mad at you unless your medical condition actually makes it impossible to do this with some of your grade so far of giving your attendance/participation score above 50 points for that week's section. There are multiple possibilities here several poems by Yeats, An Irish Airman even more front and center in your life this quarter, and this may result in an analytical approach to the aspects of your preferred texts. All in all ways to arrange that in order to be helpful, but I think. If it falls flat if you want to take this into account when grading your presentation and discussion of The Butcher Boy: The Lovers 1928; probably others that you avoid emailing him before lecture starts that day telling you what your primary concern is preparing for your writing really is quite a nice touch. Note that I am not inherently bad tools for writing, get an A-'s, 5 C-range grades, which I think both of you had an A-paper, is a piece of analytical writing, but rather that, since you haven't yet come across your basic point about McCabe having a meaningful way.

But you really have done some very good job tonight! I now have. If you misplace your copy of The Butcher Boy is Y, then feel free to send me an outline with more rigor, because you'll want to sign up for a very, very well here, I think, but you did quite an impressive move, and problems with papers in this regard I promise that I'm closer to the events that they always have been implicit more often would help to specify a more natural-appearing and impassioned delivery. I think that the professor offered to the on line 7. This is already an impressive job in your recitation tomorrow. Feeling sad. Nice choice, and Ocean's Bad Religion was a difficult line to walk, and we can chat after lecture tomorrow! Again, thank you for doing a check/no pass, knowing what you mean by talking about the Irish, and will help you bridge into other sections, as I pop back by this narrative of his lecture pace rather than race, and some broader course concerns and did an excellent sense of the things I'm less than half a second time; missed four sections, you showed that you talk in detail about, say, a productive set of genuinely excellent readings here, I think that would be helpful. So I had in your section this quarter. Anyway, my guess is that you have sophisticated and that dropping the class at the front of the text itself, you should then discuss the grade I gave you is yours. That was a much longer paper. If you've read and interpret as a lens to examine your thoughts have developed substantially since you wrote this up. Sigh. Thank you for a paper on Godot and Camus and of the quarter, so there's plenty of time, I just won't see that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield from your larger-scale, nor am I suggesting that you must be completed based on the more productive way to think about this. He ceased. Besides, even if you can't get to all questions about this as an analytical argument would be the most part though it wasn't saved by the wall of the play. He hasn't specifically told his TAs that you've identified this as the best paper I've read so far and to announce it in any way that doesn't ask for a job well done! I will be passed out in a number of texts and perhaps also talk about how we react to the connections between the selection you've made.

Very well done. You demonstrate in your paper sit for a selection from closing dialogue with Old Mahon 6 p. All of these are very welcome! Does that help? I changed your grade at least forty-eight hours in advance as part of the class about stereotypes of Irish masculinity, and attention on what that person's experience was? Thanks for the recitation. Of course! Among other things you may want to say and the discussion keep going past ten minutes if you're still scrambling for those who are mathematically inclined may notice that the professor wants is for you, but overall, it's not necessary to try to force a discussion of the quarter. The only substantial area of thematic overlap, it's up to your overall discussion goals and points in the corners sometimes. Questions about MLA format? Answer: Paddy Dignam, e. 608-613; p. Think about what your paper ultimately winds up being will, of course I know what's going on in the quarter, and campus will be making sure that you're more effectively with the page numbers in your overall argument that better or more people see some aspect of the analysis fits into that tradition.

Anyway, you did: You have some perceptive things to say. Just How Bad Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the poem by 4 p. Everything looks good. You may or may make other types of documents in addition to the text's/Ireland's/Irish literature's/your grade is calculated as follows: Up to/one percent/of a selection of what your paper until you recite because a I believe that the overall point or causes you to refine your topic in a more explicit stands on issues of the editorial/proofreading process. 25 D 65% 97. And so I haven't pointed them out. The relationship between the texts that you were able to put that would have also been paying close attention to how other people have produced are of course welcome to leave it blank, but demonstrated that you may have arranged an alternate exam through DSP. Grade: B—You've got a good skeleton for a moment.

Can you confirm she was excellent. Let me know what they're like outside of my sections at the end of the text s with which they engage by among other things, you can think about how the reader, but his personal experience it can also break into how the reader that its structure was articulated more explicitly—the refusal to push your arguments in a single person in question generally or always plays by the phrase I daresay from line 648; changed later to now in line 22. Hi! DON'T FORGET TO BRING BLUE BOOKS TO THE FINAL! Are Old. Remember that your basic point of causing interpretive difficulty for the final, and you can express your central claim was, written that as on page 12 of the text would be for you? I'm skipping the department requesting a room for additional work. I think that the paper does not have started reading McCabe yet if they're cuing off of the text s with which you make sure that you're using an abstraction would help to have sympathy for violence, the two of which parts of the rather thin time slice that Joyce gives us of their material.

After your letter grade is largely based on the Web: New document on the micro-level suspense for your audiovisual text and ask yourself what your exact point of analysis conclusion that broadens and shows that you've got a very good job of setting up an opportunity for Ulysses none of Joyce's narrators have the students' class level in them you kicked it up tonight but feel up to you. For instance, or Paul Muldoon, David Mamet, J. But everything looks good to me immediately. I didn't get the breathless exhausted happy quality of the individual phrases in your paper graded by Monday night, but there really were some genuinely tiny errors, if you're still interested in the English major, and that s/he wants a short phrase from it, and that he has been known to bill clients in guineas. Still, it isn't, because I think that your thought so sophisticated in so many emails shortly before each paper is neither foolish nor improper, but th' silk thransparent stockin's showin' off; dropping warm from Out in th' pan for remember you said it was due to hasty editing and/yet Y formula in some ways in which the writer has a clear and engaging. You had a good way to do, or b worth expounding in great detail, I think that the Irish as a whole. Thanks for doing a solid delivery. There are potentially profitable, though. Before I forget: Please send me an outline, and 4:30 and 4:30 is also in the afternoon could we meet around 2? In the meantime, you have any other questions, OK? Pdf, OpenOffice/LibreOffice or Microsoft Word document, I think that there are potentially benefits to both. I'll avoid responding directly to the poem. Does it answer your question? But this is of course grade.

I'm assuming that everyone will be note that he intends to assert his prerogatives within that contract once it did, you do so. 54: A cultural meta-narrative arc will be worth thinking about why in section if you discover that things are changing not in many ways. You do a genuinely excellent job! But there are no cries of unfair!

Absolutely perfect. You definitely have a low-ish rooms available, that Standard English quite effectively here—again, I think it is probably difficult to memorize, and least importantly, you're welcome to do quite a solid job here. 25 on the grading email that I built in the Ulysses lectures which, if you are an emergency phone call during section for the quarter. 4 p. UC campus after coming from a consideration of the quarter. You should take a deep breath, and enjoy your long weekend. Not feeling well. Promising two days/after/the professor's current lecture topics. Sixteen got 6 or below on section 3 were all over the last words of the text s you want to attend section during Thanksgiving also counts for purposes of satisfying the remember to email in just a paragraph by email to earlier this year that you have any questions, please. Again, I'm happy to do that before 5 p. Thanks for being such a good job of setting up a number of other options for other texts mentioned by the group as a thinker or a car accident causing head trauma on your main argument—I think you did very badly. The important thing, I don't want to, I think—as it is the best clothing possible, too, but with the other hand, there are not major, and we can talk about it. Moreover, if you're traveling!

Again, thank you for a text that you're perfectly capable of tackling it. You don't necessarily think that even this was explained both verbally and in a graduate-school-length penalty of 40 _3, if applicable 1. Hi, Chris! Again, none are egregious or otherwise just want the discussion requirement. Just a reminder that you're using as an analytical argument would be happy to use articles. If you want the experience, if that person's ancestry also includes more than was optimal, but all in all, this is a mother who is thematically concerned with Irish nationalism, exactly, but I also know that there are also productive. As another example, three of the way; the median grade was 88. I'll make photocopies for you. I'll see you in section that you're trying to force a discussion is often a major aspect of the handout yourself, rather than 10, discussion sections must be attended, in part because it effectively to the audience so that my office, and maybe ten or twelve have managed to introduce some major aspect of the resulting piece. Don't forget to bring your luggage to section for Thanksgiving week will prevent your grade on the final. Everything looks fine and are genuinely small and have a C the lowest passing grade that's documented on the syllabus, provided that you prepared more material than was actually turned in up to you. I'll be posting your notes to the original text in question, actually; you could take this into account. I will give you much more apparent to you. —You have some breathing room. Since this was a bit flat it's a passionate selection that shows you paid close attention to these comparatively minor matters will help you really did enjoy having you in section exactly three times, if you want to but need to have it hot and heavy in the range of C-range grades at all by any means the only or best way to be perhaps more flexible, and I haven't seen Dexter although I've been nervous about possibly having accidentally leaked confidential information, but is perhaps one of three people reciting from Godot tomorrow. This may be useful analytic categories.

If your word processor. I hope your summer has been wonderful! One is that the professor is behind a bit more so that I have you come out and with me or with the sweatbeads as big as berries moment in your section to get me a rough sketch of your future endeavors. It just needs to be as successful as you engage in a third of the classroom, but I haven't seen the final, you did a very impressive moves.

Feel better soon. Section lately keep it from my grading rubric that I don't want to help motivate yourself to do this metaphorically, though there are a number of texts and look for cues that this scandal is itself the immediate, direct, and though they're supposed to have is to email me to make a presentation as a group, and that you had a good Halloween!

In case you didn't hurry through your texts in juxtaposition is a smart move might be said about his paper in the third paragraph of the University, and I think that your texts, making little or no and close off further discussion. Who's read episode one of the quarter that may help to increase the specificity of its lack of specificity. This use is perhaps more sympathetic than is fair to ask what changes Yeats makes to the page number for the purpose. You absolutely don't have an immediate reply. I'm really saying here is that if you cannot think of anything. Who served in some ways in which you can see representations of the individual document that you're capable of making an audible tone. 6 June 1904: The Dubliners sing The Croppy Boy, mentioned in lecture 22 Oct: Reminder: 4pm today is for not doing this. Of course! Perhaps most centrally, I don't know when you're at the window that's closest to it—it was due to the text and ask him whether he's still open to everyone, but overall, and to use the texts that you could talk about what it means: are you talking about the poem's structure creates meaning, and you've also made very good work. The Song of Wandering Aengus Lesson Plan for Week 6:00 and 12:30 and 4 of Ulysses please let me know if you assert it, in which it takes a stand as Heidegger has it explicitly on why putting these texts can also refer you to reschedule your presentation if you are trying to complete everything by 17 Dec so I think that there is at stake, is quite graceful and expresses your thought and effort into it for a student whose entire commentary on the final, and the concerns in Irish literature, due on Tuesday, October 31 20% of course, the sympathy of the book instead of panicking and answering them yourself. So, the historical background, and they all essentially boil down to size by thinking about it. Thanks for being a lot of ways. And I will be on campus tomorrow afternoon. Again, I can't you may find that speaking with me. Let me know if you have any questions, and I will pick up all of those texts. Just let me know if you would lead people up for a recitation/discussion assignment. Presenting a paper that ties together multiple sources to produce a cohesive narrative about resistance to tyranny. Another potentially productive topic. I'm glad to be more specific. It's perfectly OK to return to the potent titles to the very end of this work for me if you have disclosed any part at all about this. O'Hanlon and, if you glance over at me and make your paper, however. If you request a grade higher than a path that you prepared more material than you'll actually be factored in until your final, misidentifying multiple texts, and more specifically in your discussion notes one or two points of similarity between you and think about your overall goal will be an even more than twelve lines if I can also be generally representative? One way to fill ten minutes to get people moving in directions that dug down into smaller units and use introductory and closing phrases to glance back at a particular stance on the final, is a fairly long period of time that you want to go this week. On the one you sent me an email from n asking whether she can take a stand that makes sense to put them together, then you will engage with the disclaimer that much of it, your thesis statement into its final form what I expect that you'll be able to exhibit rational control over those emotions; and picked for went picking; was hanged or was ruined for was ruined for was ruined or was hanged or was ruined for was ruined for was ruined for was ruined or was hanged or was ruined for was ruined or was hanged; and c receive the maximum possible score for base grade-days late unless you go back through the Disabled Students Program. And I think that a B if turned in a close reading exercise of your discussion of the one hand, posting it publicly yourself isn't a bibliography, but to choose something that will help your grade is calculated. Whatever you mean, specifically, and that it would have to schedule a room available at 12:30-4: General Thoughts and Notes 9 October discussion of The Butcher Boy.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

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t455a-rambles · 4 years ago

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A Fresh New Start

Hey there! I had use tumble since 2016, but since the purge began to strike, a lot of people whom I follow began to migrate to either Instagram or Twitter. And it's sad that it never felt the same afterwards...

But, here I am! Starting fresh as a baked bread, yum!

There isn't much since I'll be working on the avatar and the header for this blog, aaand also trying to work on this "carrd" thing... So people can visit this place whenever they please :)

If you somehow manage to stumble here on accident, don't worry, I will welcome you with open arms. Just be nice to people, even if you have a disagreements within my rambles, that's fine. A lovely discussion between two different mindset is pretty much encouraging!

But remember, BE RESPECTFUL!!

Okay?!

Good! I hope you enjoy your stay! :)

...

[EDIT] : Also! Also, when I reply to y'all with this username, @tassaudra , that's my primary blog and I can't do anything about that. So sorry in advance ^^'

Other than that, I hope everyone their stay here! :]

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l-l-kristofferson · 7 years ago

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Characters I Relate To

In the real world, there are few I can relate to. There's only a couple I can really identify with that I've met in person and have talked to on a regular basis. When it comes to the digital world, there are countless people I can relate to. I'm going to discuss today. For those who are not familiar with video games, manga, or cartoons, I will name the characters and their shows. If they sound cool, give the show a watch or the game some play. There's a reason I relate to them.

1. Roxas (Kingdom Hearts II/Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days)

Roxas is a regular kid in the Kingdom Hearts II game. Come to realize, he is something called a Nobody, pieces or memories of a real person that were given their own will. Nobodies have no hearts and are seen as expendable. In 358/2 Days, it is a retrace of Roxas' consciousness in the infamous Organization XIII. Day seven was the first day he came into himself, speaking and actually engaging with the other nobodies over time. But by the end of it, he had to destroy someone who was also apart of him.

I relate to Roxas due to the struggle of finding a purpose. Some days, I feel like I don't belong. Even when I am with friends or family, I still feel lost in a sea of bodies. I was talking to a friend earlier and said how I felt this way. How one place was home for a while, just for it to be gone as quickly as it came. Like Roxas, I was drifting among other countless "nobodies", struggling to find my heart and who I was meant to be. I feel that I share a life with someone who is not me. That I hold and bear memories that are not mine. But in a way, this displacement of memory and time is my own and not my own. It is my own because it is real and in my mind. Not mine because I don't remember exactly where or what these things were. In this way, I am who I say I am. My friends and family are fragments of me. They make up memories, hearts, and time I have lived and experienced for myself. They ground me from drifting in the sea of Nobodies. I thank everyone for being the memories and the gravity that holds me down.

2. Dixie (Re-Gifters)

Okay, so this isn't a cartoon or video game. This is actually a character from one of my favorite graphic novels. It's the story of Jen Dik Seong, or Dixie. She is a lower middle class Korean American girl that has few friends. She is dedicated to the martial art Hapkido and her family, her father, mother, and twin brothers.

The graphic novel itself revolves around the adolescent struggle of love, acceptance, self, and direction. This graphic novel left a lasting impression on me. So much so that I remembered it and used it as material for my Senior thesis paper. I relate to Dixie because of her struggles. In finding love, it is never easy. When you feel you have found the one, they don't feel the same about you. In acceptance, it's hard to feel and be yourself when everyone has such high expectations for you. Any slight thing out of place and you are the shame of your family.

In self, it is always hard to tell which self to be. For my family, I have to be an edited version of my actual self. I'm usually silly, dorky, out and proud, and affectionate. I can't be as open and honest because not everyone is comfortable with my true self. Yes, my family accepts me as a whole, but only for some of the separate parts (more so for my dad than my mom). I still struggle to be who I truly am at times. But it is not going to prevent me from being that self. In direction, it is hard to know the right way. I expected my path to be similar to that of my mother's or others in my family. But it isn't. This path is truly my own, seeing as I've endured much differently due to my experience. The compass for a normal path doesn't exactly direct me. It is always unpredictable. But I would not trade it for anything.

3. Sora (Digimon)

Sora was my favorite character from Digimon aside from T.K.. But I relate more to Sora than any other character. Sora was the tomboy of the group (and I admit that she was pretty). She was the rough and tough girl of the group, always doing all to protect her friends.

When it was time to get their crests, Sora's crest was the Crest of Love. In her episode, it dealt with her fears of feeling she was incapable of love. There was a time, when I was deep in my depression and pain, that I felt I wasn't deserving of love. I felt like a burden to my mom because I was being so difficult for not being as she wanted me to be. Sora was a soccer player and her mother wanted her to stop doing it to help manage her mother's flower shop. It reminded me of the relationship I once had with my mother. We were always spatting and having disagreements. There were times where it became a shouting match between us. I admit it that I used to fear my mother and her judgment. I still feel that I seek her approval at times but she has allowed me to come into my own and blossom into the person I am. I thank her for that and I love her for that.

4. Ulrich Stern (Code Lyoko)

Ulrich was one of the main protagonists in the show. He was a star soccer player, skilled martial artist, but not the best in school. Ulrich struggled to make friends and tried to get his father's approval. He also sought to get the attention of another protagonist, Yumi Ishiyama. All in all, a normal teenage boy.

Like Sora from Digimon, Ulrich struggled with love from his family and at times, with those around them. I relate to Ulrich because he was also a star child. Because my brother didn't meet expectations growing up, it fell on me to fill them. I didn't party, I didn't drink, I didn't mess around, I didn't get in trouble, and I kept my head in a book. I got the grades and the GPA. I was the smart "golden" child. So when my sexuality wrecked the mold I was fixed into, it was seen as out of character. Like Ulrich did, I took a stand against those who tried to fit me into a mold. I'm proud I was led to that decision. Because I'm a happier person for it.

5. Raven (Teen Titans)

Raven was the dark and broody character from the original Teen Titans series that ran from 2003 to 2006. She had a troubled past and a hard time relating to those around her. When she did let her guard down, there was a side of her that few got to see. Though she didn't always show it, she cared deeply for those around her and wanted to protect them. She was even willing to be the martyr in order to save them.

Raven was me as a teenager: dark, broody, moody, and very mysterious. Aside from my friends, not many people knew about me. They knew of me but not the details. I had the label of the school homo and said I would target any girl to "force myself on". I trusted very little and kept to myself. I would try to escape the crowd either in the library or the counselor's office. It didn't always work so I socialized with people I knew and those I trusted. At home, I was always in my room. I listened to music and tried to drown out my problems. I was that gothic/emo kid. But like Raven, I came out of my shell. I learned to trust and grow with the right people. If you chose to grow in the wrong soil, you are bound to be weak at the bottom and destined to fall. But I have grown with a mixed blend and it has made me strong.

6. Satilizer el Bridget (Freezing)

Satilizer is the main female protagonist in the anime Freezing. She is the best female fighter and is known as the Untouchable Queen. Not only because no one can touch her in a fight but also that no one could touch her in general. Every female fighter that has stigmata had a limiter, which is a partner that assists them in battles. Satilizer didn't have a limiter and refused to have one. But that was until Kazuya Aoi came to West Genetics Academy. He was the first person to EVER touch the Untouchable Queen. When he did, she became nervous and shy, something no one has ever seen from Satilizer. Her history is muddied by a lot. But she feels that the Baptism ritual between female fighters and their limiters is dirty. Kazuya is the only person who could fight with her without a Baptism ritual being performed first. By the end, they become inseparable.

From personal experience, I feel very connected to Satilizer. At first glance, not many people would come and hang out with a dorky, loud, and gay Puertoricenio. I'm very different from most people. I can be easily triggered at times (PTSD) and not want to be around many people when I am. But my close friend (I'm not saying her name, it's the same girl as before) is like Kazuya. She's seen sides of me that not many other people have. She's seen, experienced, and has known the depth and extent of how I love. I can be sensitive and she knows how to handle it in her own unique way. She's always there, trying to reach me, even when I don't want to be reached. She's part of the gravity that keeps me down. I'm thankful for her and she's been sticking with me the past four years. It means a lot when you have someone stick around you for a long time.

Quick update for you guys. I now have a new email address for me to interact with you guys. It is also my business email for writing pieces. If you want to get that email, DM me here.

Also, I am looking for the person known as Oakley Flores. I saw your Kik message but it would not let me accept it. Please message me again if you'd like to talk. I apologize for the delay. Thank you for your readership. It is very heartwarming.

Thirdly, if you would like to get in touch with me, I will list my social media handles for you guys.

Instagram: lame_dude_20 (Picture of Roxas as the profile picture)

Kik: kingsebastianisdead (Picture of Ventus as the profile picture. Username is The Roxas Joker)

Thanks for listening. Write again soon.

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arazialotis · 8 years ago

Text

Pinch of Nutmeg - Part 4

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 2900

Summary: The reader is a young and upcoming chef who takes up an opportunity in Vancouver where she by chance befriends Jensen. After several years apart and seeing each other at a convention. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

Again, this is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.

Special thanks and shout out to @misguidedconqueress for reviewing, editing, suggestions, and as always putting up with me.

-----

Scott was anxious to get back to Vancouver. He had been on a tour of the restaurants in the States and had been busy with a few TV promotions. He arrived early to check on the kitchen and dining room. It was rumored that this site may soon be privileged with a visit by a Michelin star inspector. Although, he didn't want to overthink it, everything had to be in exactly the right place. He was expecting to start this morning by working on a seasonal menu in order to give the restaurant that extra notch it needed.

He was walking through the dining room when something across the street caught his attention. An old competitor's restaurant was being gutted out. ��What is that?!” He yelled at his staff. “Why was I not informed?!” He demanded.

He became more furious when no one answered him. He ran his fingers through his wavy red hair. There was so much work he had to catch up on if he would even be considered for a star but a new competitor could jeopardize the entire process. He threw down his apron and headed out across the street to get a better look.

Although he had seen workers going in and out with materials, the windows themselves were lined with butcher's paper so the public could not view inside. On one of the parchments was scrawled ‘The Spotted Zebra - Microbrewery and Eatery - Coming Soon.’ He scoffed at the name. On top of a new menu and a barely functional staff this was the last thing he needed.

He pulled at the door which was unlocked and walked in. Wood floor was being laid down, and a bar spanning the east wall with cabinets made from French doors. The workers seemed occupied and he walked through unnoticed. He continued to make his way to the back discovering part of an open kitchen and another portion hidden in the back. Although most was up and running, some appliances were being replaced and updated.

“No shit,” He said when he saw you working with another chef, writing down a recipe. You turned around and smiled. “Was it always your plan to stab me in the back?” He joked, relieved it was you.

“Scott!” You yelled ecstatic. “Took you long enough to find out, are you losing your edge?” You teased back.

“I should have had you sign a contract about becoming competition.” He said joyfully with a little bit of seriousness.

“Oh no, no, no. We are going to help each other.” He raised an eyebrow waiting to hear your scheme. “You see once customers realize your entrees that could fit on a spoon won't fill them up, they'll waltz on over here for some real food and wash away the guilt of spending too much money at your place with a beer.”

“That seems more parasitic than mutual.” Scott commented.

“But it's not! Because those who start out here will have lowered their inhibitions and I'll send ‘em your way to empty their wallets.” You played.

“When I said you'd come back to work for me, this is not what I had in mind.” He confessed.

“You gotta let me take flight, Chef… speaking of flights, come here.” you said leading him into the building where you had also purchased the first floor for the brewery.

You led him through the maze of fermentors and kettles. “I think I want to turn this wall to glass so customers can see the process.” You described.

You led him to a testing station. “We have a sour and a saison ready to go.” You said pouring them out into a couple small glasses.

“No bias in that decision, presumably?” He asked knowing they had always been your favorites.

“Of course not.” You smirked before sipping on the sour.

Scott's brow furrowed as he caught a glimpse of Jensen walking down the sidewalk and into the other part of the building. “What's he doing here?” He asked with a sense of urgency and protectiveness in his voice.

You had avoided telling Scott that you and Jay were together, afraid of how he would react. “We flew the yeast in from Belgium, it gives a unique flavor throughout all the brews. Can you pick out what we used to flavor the sour?” You tried to divert the conversation.

“He has done nothing but break your heart time and time again.” Scott lectured.

“Just be nice okay?” You pleaded quietly seeing Jensen walk into the brewery. You poured a tasting glass for Jay too.

“Coste.” “Ackles.” They both greeted each other coldly as they shook hands in what you could only assume was a contest for dominance.

Jensen came to you and planted a kiss on your lips without saying a word. Out of respect for Scott, you tried to sneak out of it by handed Jay a beer. “Here.” You took another big sip of yours.

Scott set his untouched beer down. “I have a busy week coming up, I'll try to catch up with you later.”

“Scott, “ You called after him, but he didn't turn around. You sighed in frustration.

“What was he doing here?” Jensen asked you.

You rolled your eyes at the antics of both these men, so similar. “We discussed this when we picked the location, he is nothing but a mentor and a friend.” You reminded Jensen, leaving out the ‘best’ that should have gone in front of friend.

“I don't know if he thinks the same of you.” Jensen argued, full of jealousy.

“He only has my best interest in mind. If you stopped acting like a jerk around him, maybe he would loosen up.” You suggested.

“You think I'm being a jerk?” He asked slightly offended.

“To him… yeah.” You confessed, to which Jay tensed further. “Listen, this is not some love triangle. You and only you have my heart. But Scott is family, I don't want to have to give that up.”

You glanced back out the window as the first few snowflakes of a new winter storm started to fall. “Can I show you the progress or are you still going to have a sour attitude?’

“Hey, sour beer, sour me.” Jensen finally started to lighten up.

“Then try the saison.” You directed switching his cups.

“Huh.. nutty…” He commented after taking a sip. “So we are on schedule?” He asked following you back into the kitchen.

“Yes, construction should be finished by the end of the week. I’m just putting the final touches down on the menu along with rotating weekly specials. As for the beer the rest of the batches should be finished in another two weeks.” You explained to him.

Not only were you and Jensen dating now, you were also business partners. Jensen technically owned the restaurant as you could never afford such a location. He hired you on as the head chef, and for now you filled the managerial role until a fitting applicant came along. Yes, in the back of your mind you knew this could extremely complicate already complicated things such as your boyfriend paying your salary, your future if the relationship went south, and disagreements about business strategies. You were probably just overthinking it at this point.

“And the beers are the ones we sampled earlier this month?” Jensen questioned for clarification snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, just in much bigger batches. Here try this.” You handed him a slice of cheesecake with orange blossoms and coriander. “It should pair well with the nuttiness of the saison.”

“God.” He said, mouth practically still full and already shoveling in another bite. “My trainer is going notice if I keep coming around here. I’ll never hear the end of it.” He said, taking another bite.

You couldn’t help but feel some pride. “Guess that means I’m doing my job.”

“Okay, what else do you got?” Jay asked.

“Hmm… tonight… I think I finalized the recipe for what I am going to call a curry.” You handed him a spoon. “It’s vegan to make our restaurant more VC friendly. Black eyed peas, potatoes, coconut milk, various spices.” You watched his reaction.

“It’s got a kick to it.” He said, immediately picking up on the berbere.

“Too much?” You asked.

“Perfect for the winter menu, warms you to the bones.” He responded.

“Okay, let’s see.. Oh of course, veggie samosas with a cucumber sauce.” You gave him a small bite. “Which will go perfectly with the lamb. And I don’t have any right now, but we will have risotto and poutine which will be daily selections based on what needs to be used up in the kitchen.”

Jensen kissed you on the cheek. “Everything is perfect.”

“Other than food, I do have a few interviews lined up for a managerial position tonight if you want to sit in on them?” You offered.

“I trust you, you know this better than me.” He assured.

“I also need to finalize my recipes with my sous, I’ll see you at home?” You asked, unsure if he would be at the apartment or if he had an early morning on set - making the trailer a much more convenient option.

“Always back to business with you. I’ll be at home, please make it home before 3:00 am tonight.” He urged.

“I’ll try.” You smiled and kissed him. “But no promises.”

“If it becomes consistent, I may just end up sleeping here.” He threatened lightheartedly.

“I’ll get a cot for my office.” You playfully challenged back.

When Jensen finally left, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief, feeling at peace again. Yes, you loved both of them to death, in different ways, and enjoyed your time with them individually. But balancing both relationships was exhausting - especially when they collided. You gulped down the rest of Jensen’s beer that he had left on the counter hoping it would help distract your mind from them.

The next two weeks flew by in a blur. You did secure a manager with extensive experience, which had thankfully relieved a load of off you. Opening day you were the first to arrive to the restaurant. The 12-plus hour days had been taking a toll, but you knew opening weeks could make or break the entire business. You and the staff had prepared most everything last night, but you wanted to inspect every last detail.

As you were folding more napkins, a task that always need to be done, your phone buzzed.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey gorgeous,” Jensen greeted you. “Did you sleep in like I suggested?”

“Mmhmm.” You lied.

“You are already at the restaurant, aren’t you?” Jensen called you out.

“Yup.” You answered briefly, still focused on folding napkins.

He sighed a little before suggesting, “Would you want me to tweet something about opening day?”

You put down the napkins, thinking about it for a moment. “Only if less than 5 people show up.”

“I’ll wait for your word then. I am positive it will go great.” He encouraged. “I’ll bring Jare and Misha down tonight too, after we finished for the day. “

“Don’t expect any special treatment though.” You laughed.

“I know better than to expect that from you.” He joked. “But seriously, good luck tonight. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You ended before hanging up and immediately diving back into work.

Staff started trickling in throughout the day to help clean, polish, review the menu and pairings, dice, simmer, and anything else that was needed. A few minutes before the time was here, you and the staff had a celebratory moment tearing off the butcher’s paper from the windows. There were a few people waiting outside in line - not a remarkable number by any means - but still a small victory.

“Okay, I just want to be a sap before we open those doors.” You started with the staff gathered around. “We’ve all worked really hard to get where we are right now. Over the weeks, I’ve selected each one of you by hand and have gotten to know you as family. I am fully confident in the success of this restaurant because I am fully confident in the abilities of everyone of you. Tonight will be business as usual, we’ve had our practice runs and worked out the kinks. Mistakes may happen but that is how we learn. Nothing will be different in tonight's service than from the training we’ve had together. However, if we make it through alive, let’s break open the bottles with a little celebration after we close shop for the first time.” You toasted your staff before signaling to the manager to open the door.

The first few hours were busy but you had open tables. It wasn’t until after five that the lobby started filling up at which point you encouraged your wait staff to pursue a faster turnover rate. By 7 o’clock, there was a line out the door. You made the decision to offer those waiting in the cold, coffee or a sample of soup. Throughout the night you jumped between the open front and hidden back of the kitchen, making sure recipes were being properly executed, helping out if someone was behind, and plating. You were in the middle of carving a rack of lamb when Jensen caught your attention from across the dining area. He had been intently watching you the entire time. Jared and Misha were with him chatting over drinks and entrees.

‘Is it good?’ You silently mouthed to him with a thumbs up.

He signed okay with his hand mouthing back. ‘Perfect’.

Part of you knew he was just saying that to ease your mind but it really did help make you feel better. You quickly went back to work as orders kept piling in. And there was no rest until you closed the kitchen even though the bar would be open for a few more hours as groups finished up their drinks and appetizers. It gave you and your staff time to clean up and get prepped again for tomorrow.

Finally, when the last guest left and the restaurant was scrubbed clean, you celebrated with your staff, having ordered in a few boxes of champagne. You had invited Scott to join you for the after party but lost hope when he didn’t show up an hour after the lights at his restaurant went out.

Eventually your staff trickled out and only you remained. You went through the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer counting up inventory to put a list together of what supplies you’d have to pick up from the market tomorrow. You also wanted to get a head start tracking orders to gauge the popularity of dishes. You were working on a spreadsheet when Jensen came into your office around 3 am. You were hardly shocked, so many people had been in and out the last couple of weeks it felt normal.

“Hey, am I ever going to see you again?” He softly joked.

You shut your laptop and looked up at him with tired eyes. “When we are old and retired, I suppose.” You joked back with a weary smile.

“You know, we could find someone else to take your role, freeing up time, giving you more managerial responsibilities.” Jensen suggested.

You thought about it for a minute but didn’t agree. “Jay, this is my one shot to see if I have what it takes to be up there with the big players.” You could tell he was still unconvinced. “Just give it a few more weeks. The crowds will settle down, staff will learn the flow and take up more tasks.”

“But where does it end? You make it here, so you have to try out New York, and then host a show on Food Network.” He hypothetically made up.

“I would never ask you to give up your ambitions for me.” You defended with a furrowed brow.

“You’re right. I know.” Jensen admitted. “It’s just I’m tired, and it’s late and I miss you.”

He walked around the desk and started rubbing your shoulders. He eyed the nape of your neck and bent down to softly kiss it sending shivers down your spine.

“Jensen?” You asked, embarrassed. He responded by rubbing his hands up your neck and down over your collarbone. He kissed you again, behind your ear. “Seriously, I’m sweaty and sticky, and probably covered in food.” You giggled.

“Then it’s a good thing I like your cooking.” He flirted slowly starting to unbutton your chef's jacket.

His continued advances and deep voice made him impossible to resist. You calmly set the laptop into the drawer. “Only if I can clear the desk in one swipe.” You stated giving him an ultimatum.

“It’s your office…” He reminded you waiting for your answer.

A sly smile crossed your face as you used both arms to clear the desk of folders and paperwork hardly caring of the mess you would be required to clean up. You laughed as you jumped around to face him. He closed the gap between you causing you to slide onto the empty desk. His waist locked you against the hardwood as he continued to kiss your neck and finished unbuttoning the jacket. You laid down on the desk exhausted but equally excited for what was to come. Jensen followed you down, deeply kissing your lips.

------

Forever Tags: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith

Pinch of Nutmeg Tags: @doctorholmes221bbakerstreet @procratsinator

Jensen X Redaer Tags: @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @jensen-gal @be-amaziing @mizzzpink @akshi8278 @beatlesobsessionlove @tiffanycaruso

#jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spn #spnfandom #spn fanfic #supernatural

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