#i know all these facts about your stupid presidents and yet not ONE of you could tell me what happened in the engadine maccas
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all love and joy to all my darling american internet friends and mutuals etc etc but if I ever have to learn another thing about us news ever again I think I'm going to blow something up
#I am SO MAD that I cannot avoid information about america#and I am SO MAD that it would be politically irresponsible to avoid information about america were it even possible#the us thinks it's soooo important and the worst part is that it kind of is important. so I just have to keep knowing things against my wil#i know all these facts about your stupid presidents and yet not ONE of you could tell me what happened in the engadine maccas#not one of you know the gay marriage crocodiles quote by heart#not one of you could say why scomo is such a dickbag if you even know who he is!!!!#I'm speaking hyperbolically. to an extent. but ugh I'm so sick of it I feel like everything is so oversaturated with america#I see more information about it than any other country and I DON'T EVEN LIVE THERE#sick of it! if anyone ever plans on talking about america again please don't#and also while I'm complaining#can someone please make a vague fantasy continent that is cold in the south and hot in the north. like a normal person.#I don't want to listen to americans or anyone in the northern hemisphere ever again. goodbye#fay.... man idk what this is#fay complains#I suppose
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let's talk about childish jelous varsity!satoru :P !!
pairings: varsity!gojo x reader
synopsis: you help your aunt manage her cafe during your free time because hey, free food and you also get paid! plus, it keeps you entertained during game season when satoru is always training. you made a new friend too! student council president!kento, who frequents at the coffee shop.
it's game season so varsity!satoru is busy again. he's the star player anyways. you didn't mind though, not only you got used to it, you support him big time! of course you'd visit their training from time to time, but it's boring to watch boys playing with balls all day!
you would often help out at your aunt's cafe, it's near the campus, it gives free food, it gives you extra cash, and keeps you entertained. varsity!satoru doesn't mind either, plus his sweet tooth even loved the fact that you work at a cafe and alway smells like sweets!
what he did mind though, was when he decided to surprise you after his practice ended early, but when he came to the cafe, he was flabbergasted! varsity!satoru could only watch as he sees you in a booth, chatting with someone. and it's not just someone, it's the student council president!
varsity!satoru can't seem to tear his eyes from you figure, smiling and chatting with the student council president. he was only snapped out of his state when his best friend, suguru hit the back of his head. “get moving dipshit.” suguru says, walking inside the cafe, passing him.
“no suguru look! she found someone else!��� varsity!satoru would whine, pulling suguru by his shirt. “they're just talking are you dumb?” suguru replies, rolling his eyes at his white haired friend. “but she's smiling stupid and giggling! she only does that with me!” satoru whines, again. “she does that with everyone, dingus.” ieri comments, pulling both guys out of the way, into a booth.
when the baristas got the orders for three people, you retreated back to the kitchen to help out. satoru did not notice it though, he's still whining about how easy you found someone else as he sulk at their booth.
satoru had his head slumped on the table, a huge pout on his lips as he threw tantrums. ieri and suguru was frowning at him. “look, i know i am very busy right now but other than that, what else did i lack!?” satoru asks his friends, earning an eye roll from both and a “maturity, perhaps.” from ieri.
“am i that childish? i know people gush over nanami-san for being so responsible and so mature. i didn't know my girlfriend would be one of them!” satoru says as he hits his head on the table. “yes, you are.” says the two. “...was busy for a sec and found someone else already...” satoru murmurs, slamming his palm on the table.
“whoa, easy there. my aunt will make you pay if you destroy her table.” hearing your voice, satoru immediately perks up, his head turning your direction. he was about to greet you but then remember he's upset. upset that you found someone else! he turns his head the other way, facing the wall.
“dumbass/stupid” suguru and ieri said at the same time. you gave satoru a questioning look as you placed the tray of their orders down. “didn't see you guys come in, by the way, sorry.” you says, trying to make a small talk. “'course you didn't. you were busy.” satoru, whose eyes are still glued on the wall, mutters.
“come again?” you asks, not really hearing what your boyfriend said. he did not reply though and he's still not facing you. you found it very...weird. “hey, 'toru how was practice? i thought you'd be done in at least two more hours.” you try to talk to him, but again, no reply. “suck it up satoru.” ieri says, so done with his tantrums.
“...toru?” you called out to your boyfriend but satoru kept his eyes glued on the wall. he wasn't even just looking away, he's literally sat there facing the wall. he looked so fucking stupid. yet you can't figure out why. “is he okay?” you ask, turning to his friends. “when is he ever okay? that guy has some screw loose.” ieri says, playfully rolling her eyes.
suguru sighs, looking at you with his tired eyes. “he's jealous because you wer—” “I AM NOT JEALOUS OF NANAMI-SAN!” oh. oh. you and ieri stifle a laugh and suguru face palmed. everyone in the cafe, including kento, has heard satoru. now everyone's eyes are on him.
satoru realized what he just revealed, although his words said otherwise, everyone in the room understood the situation. he could only stare at you with wide eyes, watching as you fight the urge to burst out laughing.
“i see.” you manage to say in between laughs. “in that case, it's okay for me to leave then? nanami-san and I still have a lot of matters to discuss about the council, i have a lot to learn being the newly elected vice president anyways.” you add, looking directly at satoru with your teasing smile.
oh right. oh shit you're right! satoru had forgotten that you're the new vice president! “don't leave. :c” satoru murmured, embarrassed at his own actions as he scoots over, giving you a place to sit. once you sat down, you let out a laugh.
“i'm not jealous.” he tells you, his voice dramatically low. “mhm, you're not.” you replied, playfully rolling your eyes at him. “dude you're embarrassing.” suguru and ieri said in unison.
𐙚 : short and crappy ik,,, :[ i got bored okay!!
plus i really love the idea of jjk hs!au i'm thinking of what roles the other characs should play :P
#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#jjk fanfic#gojo fluff#satoru fanfic#gojo is stupid
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Masked Martyrs- Finnick Odair
Authors Note: Part seven of the halloween Event! Do enjoy! More hunger games coming soon...
Warnings: talk about prostitution
Word Count: 981
Requests: OPEN
~2024 Halloween Event Masterlist
[Thank you for the gif @down-in-dixie ]
ENJOY!
The lighting in the capitol was always off, and no one seemed to understand you when you said that. In district 7 there was nothing but natural lighting since the electricity often went out and everyone had to work during the day. But it also had some of the best stars, the best view of the stars really, since everyone shared them. But the capitol seemed to hate those stars.
Or maybe Snow was keeping you from them as some form of punishment. You might have done something wrong. Maybe he didn’t like the way you greeted the ‘guest’ he had sent over the other day. Or maybe you hadn’t smiled enough in that last interview.
Really he could find any reason to punish you if he wanted to.
“He’ll see you sulking.” A smooth voice fills the air, and your peace and quiet is immediately shattered by none other than Finnick Odair. “And he’ll-”
“If you don’t mind fish boy,” You begin, not bothering to tear your eyes away from the tech lamps on the wall, wondering how long it had taken to make them. “I’m staring at the stars.”
“Those, lumbergal, are not stars.” He laughs, not seeming to worry about your attitude at all.
“They are the closest thing I could find.”
“THERE YOU TWO ARE!” Someone cheers, a clapping sound pulling your attention. As you turn your head to see whoever was approaching you manager to catch Finnicks gaze for a second before spotting the capital's favorite stylist.
You hadn’t bothered to learn his name, you knew Snow would manage to make him disappear the second he got bored of him. He had gone through 6 since you won your games.
“I spent far too long on the prizes of the Capitol for them to lurking in the corner. Come come. Immediately. Our brave president has requested you make an appearance.” Before you could move to get up the stylist was turning to meet you where you sat, shoving a gold envelope in your hand before his hands were upon you.
They roamed to fix up the stupid dress he had made for you, and though you flared with unease you had learned long ago to ignore it. And though Finnick was in the room you tried to remind yourself that he would know this life as much as you and you shouldn’t have to worry about it.
And yet his hand came to flick the stylists off of you with ease, a glare set in his eye as you stood up.
“We’ll be right out.”
“I was sent to-”
“You gave us the message, we will be out soon.” Finnick snaps before an easy smile breaks out. The stylist wisely chooses not to fight on it, rushing off to find another one of his costumes as you take to fixing it yourself.
He had made a capitol worthy fairy costume for you, and wearing a dress with this much cleavage made you miss celebrating hallows eve in your district even if there was no food or warmth in the beginning of winter.
Finnick had been dressed as…. Well you had no clue.
With blue glittery makeup sitting on his cheekbone and a thin strand of pearls wrapped around his arm. A sheen blue fabric was draped on one shoulder that covered his stomach but not his pecs, and you didn’t even want to keep looking at the pants.
“A siren.” He mumbles, smiling as he watches you watch him.
“Fitting.”
“Because I’m a whore.”
“No.” You snap out, throat tight. “Because you were made for water. And the fact that you think I would….. Would ever call you that….”
You shake your head, moving to walk away quickly with that envelope still in your hand. He follows, fixing the back of your dress before fixing your wing and moving to walk alongside you.
“The envelope if you will. I’d like to get our dear presidents message before you destroy it.” He quickly swipes the envelope from you and tears it open, reading the words. You watch as he tries to smile, as if what he was reading wasn’t bothering him, but you could also see the way his jaw tightens.
“What does it say?”
“He wants us to meet a client-”
“Together?” You blurt, stopping in your tracks.
“Yes.”
“But-”
“Do you want to see lanterns?”
“I’m sorry?” You laugh before he reaches for your hand and drags you with him. He leads you through the back tunnels of the capitol building and if you were a better person you might have thought about ways to escape.
But you were broken and you knew it was a useless plan.
Not that any of that mattered anyways, because as you followed the ‘siren’ through the halls you could only get excited. For the first time in months you were excited.
He pushes a thick door open with ease and leads you out for you to realize you had managed to sneak into the gardens where they had lit the pumpkin lanterns.
“Oh… my…”
They had been decorated with glitter, the same gold glitter that you had been decorated with, and the fires were different colors.
The warmth of the fires was perfect, like an invisible blanket, and the colors mixed with the gold glitter made it almost magical.
“How did you know about these?”
“I saw them setting up earlier, which is why I came to find you.” He hums, leaning against the wall as you trace a finger through glitter.
“And you came to find me?”
“You’re the only person I knew would like it as much as I did.” He smiles and you can’t fight the smile that crosses your own lips.
“Happy Hallowed Eve, Siren.”
“Happy Hallowed Eve, Fairy.” And for a second, as you peered into his eyes, you could see stars again.
-
[thank you for the gif @starefantasisedroolrepeat ]
#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick odair angst#finnick odar fluff#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair fluff#hunger games#hunger games imagine#hunger games fanfiction#hunger games fluff#hunger games smut#hunger games angst#hunger games fanfic
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What I like about Charles Coven is the “there’s only one thing I value more than treasure, my own life”- line. Because this is telling us that he’s not your typical greedy money hungry man who gets off to the thrills and will say “fuck all” just cause he’s in power, he’s actually smart and won’t make a dumb decision that’ll threaten his life. I know we haven’t seen much of him yet, but I can’t help but like that about him since most mean powerful greedy character archetypes in media are so reckless. And here’s the thing, Charles should honestly be a boring character since the spooky rich man trope isn’t anything special, (I mean come on, his motivation is wanting all the money in the world), but that one line of dialogue adds something interesting to him. He seems like the kind of guy to play his cards right and not do anything stupid. If he has to accept defeat and step down, he will, as seen at the end of Yellow Jacket, where he could have easily told one of his men to fire at Ethan, but chose not to, like…even if it’s just for the plot, it’s a character decision that makes sense.
On top of that, Charles is just so fucking intimidating man, because he’s well acted and well written. What makes him terrifying is his calm demeanor. He never yells or overreacts and that’s why he’s scary, cause instead of yelling at you, he’ll calmly threaten you with a wide smile. He mostly talks in this friendly manor, but in a passive aggressive way, and he’ll only appear as nice to lure you in and get what he wants from you. Literally the “welp! You’ll never see him again! :P” is the best scene. And I absolutely love it when villains are written like this. They aren’t shying away that he’s a bad guy, but they’re also not hitting you on the head with him. He’s not like Hidgens or Linda where he’s this unhinged and loud person, he’s not even like Wilbur Cross despite people comparing them. He’s just….Charles, a man you should fear and not trust at all, cause he is only using your for his own personal gain. I mean this guy literally has the power to THREATEN the president of the United States and get away with it. And the fact that he flat out told Bill that he wants everyone under his foot, how outward he is about his power hungry ways but can keep his job as head of CCRP is terrifying. And the fact that he’s after Lex and Hannah is terrifying. HE’S JUST TERRIFYING BUT ALSO A SILLY BEAN AND I LOVE HIM.
#charles coven#starkid#team starkid#hatchetfield#hatchetverse#nightmare time#nightmare time starkid#nightmare time yellow jacket#james tolbert
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eat that girl for lunch - college!au giselle x reader
synopsis: your dancing on her tongue, your might be the one
pairing: aeri uchinaga x reader (use of her real name, non-idol au)
genre: wlw, 18+ (pairing is over 18), studentxstudent, delinquentxnerd
word count: 2.4k+
You were the Student Council President at School of Performing Arts in Seoul. You are loved for your kind attitude and your need to do right by others. You were in the Practical Music Department and are the top of your class, leaving many both envious and in awe by you. On the surface, you don’t seem to dislike anyone, in truth you didn’t hate anyone but one girl.
Aeri Uchinaga was also a student at the School of Performing Arts but she was very different to you in many ways. She may have also been in the same department but she was not known of her stellar grades or good attitude. She was known to be a bit of a ...player. She was known to mess around with both genders and many have started rumors that she pays girls to sleep with her and that she hurts girls for her own pleasure. Some go as far to say she even works as a sex worker on the side despite her family being loaded.
You hated everything about Aeri. You wholeheartedly believed her to be a slut and that she would fuck anything with a pulse. Aeri disliked you for acting all stuck-up and your stupid high-pitched voice. You would sit at the main table at the centre of the gardens under the sun, next to the water fountain as you would turn and see Aeri sitting alone under a tree. Due to these rumors, Aeri didn’t have many friends and she would never speak more than 5 words in class. In truth, none of the rumors were even true, she was just very introverted and didn’t like talking to people as she didn’t know what to do or how to keep the conversation going.
It’s a normal school day and it is second break as Aeri sits under a tree with her head phones in and her eyes closed. You look over at Aeri and your usual hatred bubbles up. You can’t stand the fact a girl like her could just walk around freely without any consequences. A idea then forms inside your head and you storm over. You call out Aeri’s name a few times which get no response as the other girl’s music is on full volume. She then stomps on Aeri’s foot which makes the ravenette’s eyes shoot open and take her head phones out. “Can I help you?” she says, clearly tired.
“Why do you do the things you do? Random but I can’t help but ask” You say in your fakest tone possible. Aeri feels the uneasy air around her and she knows her answer to this question will determine the course of their conversation. “I’m sorry.. I don’t understand what you mean?” she says, clearly confused. “You don’t have to air out your sex life for all the school to hear.. that’s what I mean!” You say in the same fake tone yet your intention was clear from the start. “I don’t know what your talking about, I don’t do that in the first place.” Aeri was confused at first but now she was a bit offended. “Oh now you want to act dumb? The entire school knows that your a whore, stop lying!” You think the other girl is just playing dumb to get out of it. You knew you needed to confront her, you won the council elections so you could do whatever you wantl. Right?
Aeri knew to a certain degree about all the rumors but nobody said anything to her. It’s not as if they had the right, so who does this girl think she is talking to her this way? “Who the fuck even are you? What makes you think you have the right to talk to me like this?” She says trying to keep her cool yet clearly irritated. “_____, student council president, school’s top student” You confidently say, as if she was waiting for the question. She says the last part specifically to get on Aeri’s nerves, assuming her grades to be slipping, as everytime you saw her, she had her headphones in and was off daydreaming. “More like School’s Pain in the Ass” Aeri mutters off as she gets up, finally now noticing how short the other girl is compared to her. Your ears perked up at the jab “Pardon? Do you want to repeat that?” You said annoyed, yet knowing your position gave you the upper hand. “I said.. your a pain in the ass.. now piss off” Aeri storms off, she did not have the time for this.
You were not done, you grabbed Aeri’s arm. “You shouldn’t even be here! You should be in a whorehouse, and I’ll make sure you go right there!” you said, raising your voice a bit. Aeri wanted to lose her shit, but she acted surprisingly calm when a idea popped into her head now “Fine” she said coldly. Your face was filled with confusion as you didn’t expect it to be THAT easy “Fine? What?” she inquired. “Fine. I’ll go to a whorehouse…” the black-haired girl said. You looked at her visibly confused yet waiting for something more, there had to be something more. “…if you win a bet.” Aeri finished with a smile. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes “What are the terms?”
You said, annoyed by how unserious the other girl was to the claims yet intrigued by what she was going to propose. “I’ll drop out and go to the red light district.. if you come first during the next exam” You genuinely thought she was joking until you saw on her face how serious she was. Aeri’s face then turned sinister “But.. if I come first, you have to open your legs for me” Your face went pale at this and considered forgetting it all together. But no.. she needed to come first and keep everyone else safe from Aeri. You nodded and quietly said “Deal” before walking away.
Days went by and whispers about such a bet swirling around the school, many wanting to make their own assumptions about such a deal. Of course as people do, they exaggerate the story or add their own silver lining that would make more people interested. A week in and when it reached your ears, the story sounded absurd and almost convinced you that you never even talked to Aeri. Obviously, it was not true but this further convinced you that you could not lose this bet. You were convinced you did not even need to study and that you would do perfectly fine, telling yourself that you were just pure talent and you did not need to overwork yourself. Instead of studying, you partied and only worked to fufill your Student President duties. Many remained excited for the next evaluation, excited to see you crumble and for Aeri to live up to her infamous reputation.
The end of year came and all dashed over to the ranking board. Your heart dropped when Aeri ended up on top and you came second. You could feel everyone staring at you, whispering in satisfaction about you not ending up on top once. You are trying to get out the crowd of girls but it’s almost suffocating. You turn your head to see Aeri with a surprised expression on her face
You and Aeri walked into the hotel room together, tension in the air. You lost the bet by 2 points, you didn’t even realise how intelligent Aeri was until she saw the board. This pissed you off as not only were you ranked down to number two, but also because it showed how sneaky the other girl was. You was convinced Aeri started the rumors about herself for attention and only hated her more for it. She certainly seemed quite pleased with herself when she shut the door and pinned you to the wall with a smirk. The taller girl had a height advantage over you and looked down at you , hands to each side of your head. You looked up with a annoyed stare, internally beating yourself up over losing. You were snapped out your thoughts when Aeri kissed you and couldn’t help but melt into the kiss.
They kissed there for about a minute or so before you were picked up, automatically wrapping your legs around Aeri’s waist as you were carried to the bed. You were placed gently on the bed surprisingly and you two kept kissing, fighting for dominance. Clashes of teeth and tongue ensued and Aeri got the upper hand due to your inexperience. Aeri takes off the other girl’s sweater and unbuttons her shirt. She was about to go for the your skirt before her hand was grabbed “You first” you said bluntly, mainly out of embarrassment of being half naked. Aeri sighs as she shrugs off her jacket and unbutton her own shirt, not fully taking it off but unbuttoning most of the buttons. You looked up at the pretty sight and really tried not your best to look down but you eventually did which made Aeri laugh quietly.
“Enjoying the view?” She said softly teasing. Your face went red with annoyance and strangely.. also arousal. You turn your head away which makes Aeri hold back her laughter again. She decides to get attention someway so she takes off the brunette’s shoes and stockings. She takes off your skirt and protection shorts, revealing your underwear. Jimin starts to kiss up the exposed side of your neck and whispering “Babe.. look at me..” she initially whispers softly but got no reaction from you. She then decides to start lazily rubbing her finger your clothed clit.
Aeri watches your face any sign of pleasure and laughs quietly at the sight in front of her. You shut your eyes and clamped a hand over your own mouth, remaining the same even when Aeri was feeling the wet patch in your underwear. “Look at me” she whispered quietly that gained no response. With this, she knew she had to try harder which made her act on impulse and slap your ass, which finally gained a reaction. “Ah!-” a startled moan finally escaped your mouth despite her action in protest to the pleasure. Aeri at this point was hot and bothered by how long one fucking moan took, making her urges take control of her for a minute and grasp the smaller girl’s throat by force. Your face clearly distressed, tried to gasp for air but the noises that did escape almost emulated a bird’s chirp. You squirmed in the older’s girls grasp yet felt.. hot for some reason. “Your really fucking bipolar you know that? You want to agree to a bet with me yet you want to be stubborn and not take your punishment well?” Your eyes were still adverted due to embarrassment at this, she did start all of this yet she does not want to just take it as she was so sure she would be on top, she never messes up. “S-sorry.. keep going..” she hesitantly opens her legs. She’s never been with anyone, let alone a girl so she was pretty nervous. At this, a idea popped into Aeri’s head as a form of punishment.
She took your bra and underwear off, making you completely bare under her. She took a minute to admire your body — she wanted to do this for a few months now and the opportunity just presented itself without her asking for it. She saw how shy you got at the intimacy and she enjoyed the pouty expression on your face — it just made Aeri want to fuck you more. She played with your breasts and teased your nipples, enjoying the whines and occasional whimpers that escaped you. She took it a step further and started licking and sucking hickeys on your breasts. Aeri loved marking girls in general, especially the pale ones as the marks were more evident.
She looked down with a smirk to see how wet you were getting and how you thrusted up for some friction which was unsuccessful. You tried to form words which you could start then would turn into a whine. Your legs shaked which indicated you were about to cum which is when Jimin removed her hand and mouth off her tits. You let out a noise and said confused “Aeri.. what..” Aeri stroked your hair and said “You weren’t supposed to, that was a punishment.” You kept a pouty expression and crossed arms which made the other girl melt “Fine.. do you want your reward?”. Your eyes lighted up at this as you nodded frantically “Please unnie.. I’ll be good..”
The room is filled with your high-pitched moans as Aeri slips her tongue you. She keeps a tight grip on your ass, one hand on each side, tight enough to leave bruises. Aeri;s tongue plays with the other girl’s g-spot as you thrust upwards into the other girl’s mouth. Aeri starts sucking and you manage to grab a handful of the other girl’s hair as you hold Aeri’s mouth in one spot, right on the place you like it most. Her tongue goes even faster which makes your hips buckle and your moans get louder. You finally cum in Aeri’s mouth and fall onto the bed. The ravenette finally looks up at the brunette after swallowing it all, wiping her mouth and laying next to her.
There is about 30 seconds of blissful silence before Aeri finally says “Did I live up to all your fantasies?” she says with a smirk. Your face goes red and get embarrassed “Shut up!” which makes you flip on your side, forgetting for a second you were bare naked. You peaks your head back around to see Aeri checking her out, making you let out a cute yet annoyed noise “Turn around you perv!”. The taller girl grabs a blanket and drapes it over them both up to their waists. Aeri then moves over and spoons you , one hand on your waist and the other travelling up to your marked breasts. You shake your head and says “No! Not again!”. Aeri puts her head into the pillow and buries her face in your hair as she inhales the flower-scented shampoo you use. She finally says “Fine.. let’s sleep now”. You would be embarrassed to admit how easily you fell asleep after that but you did sleep very well.. in Aeri’s arms.
note . . .
i originally wrote this as a jimin x reader fic and I was choosing between which one was better. discreet was definitely better written and this sat unfinished in my google docs for a few weeks. i reread it, tweaked it a bit (it's still cringe) and finished the fic for giselle. so if the fic happens to say Jimin anywhere, just lmk so I can change it
navigation: kpop masterlist , aespa masterlist
#kpop#aespa#aespa giselle#aespa x reader#winabella#kpop messy moodboard#kpop moodboard#kpop messy bios#kpop messy headers#aespa karina#aespa winter#aespa moodboard#aeri uchinaga#aespa icons#aespa ningning#wlw#wlw post
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之間的距離 / thebeautyliesinitsbriefness (bakugou x reader)
Summary: like many, Bakugou can only say "I love you" when you're no longer there.
Warnings: angst, yeah, originally wrote this for sanemi but ... oh well! pretend you dont see any plot holes
wc: 1.9k
Katsuki values strength, independence. He has never given crying a mere chance of coexisting in his headspace along with other less trivial affairs because tears don’t bring people back from the Earth. He won’t admit but he values optimism: to see the bright in the dark. Even he himself knew just how bleak of a person he was, a buzzkill and a party-pooper, in Ochako’s words. He wanted his crowd to be vehemently bright, he wanted them to have the ability to force him to see, and recognize the remaining half cup of water.
You wince again, wound sterilisation was definitely your least favourite part about being a hero, nobody cared to warn you about this side of the job. The dabs on the open cut were quite aggressive, but you paid them no mind, not expecting any less from the second hero of Japan.
Katsuki’s least favourite part to being a hero was needing to aid his comrades in wound irrigation. Nobody mentioned anything about going on missions together, much less taking care of each other.
‘Tch, shut up, you can behead villains while looking into their eyes but not withstand ten seconds of stinging?’
You laughed, once again not taking offence to his rather belligerent diction— one of the reasons why you were sent to accompany Bakugou on this mission. Madam President, in good faith, believed in your potential, who also trusted Bakugou in bringing it out. She had also heard enough people talk about the way you were able to work well, or at least, better than others, with the fellow hero, so you were quite literally the only suitable option.
With the cotton pad holding the gauze in place, your meticulous torture finally wrapped up, your ebullient Thank you! was met with dead air, as Bakugou had long left the room since the second he was done.
With his back towards you, you can only presume the slight shake of his head to just be collateral of some things along the grumbled lines of ‘Stupid idiot..’
And you weren’t far off either. But, in lieu of cursing you with true malicious intention, he was in fact cursing at himself, for letting you, 'Stupid Idiot', crack his seamless façade of abrasivity:
His eyes widened with panic, what kind of reckless bastard would do that?! You had egregiously jumped in front of a few civilians that were shaken up by the villain you two were facing off. Stuck with fear, they stayed, and caused even more blood to be shredded.
The sharp talons of the villain cut through your flesh like knives to tofu. The pain was evident on your face, brows crinkled, tears from your eyes threatening to spill. Your hand still gripped the handle of your weapon, making possibly the wisest decision you have made yet, you sliced the villain’s hand right off to prevent it from corroding your bones.
Collapsing onto the dirt ground with a harsh thud, the civilians wept even harder out of guilt at the sight of your weak and damaged body, but you did so without a breath of complaint, for protecting the lives of idiots was your job.
The villain, who regrew his hand with the help of his quirk, sat with an arrogant smirk in front of you, shamelessly meandering over your body, practically undressing you with his eyes. He would not know the absolute terror that was about to rain down on him until it was far too late.
Diabolical beings.
With an irate grunt, Bakugou switched to an offensive stance. In tandem, the crackling of his palm announced that he was an explosion ticking to blow. He let out a breath, along with all the pent up worry and frustration in him, a new found determination flashes across his countenance, the corners of his lips twitched. The way he held himself was different, filled with courage you had unknowingly given him. Motivation. His smirk was belligerent as always, eyes shining with something that would have made you blush if you were cognitive.
Katsuki was going to make him pay; that villain would not see another sunrise after this, for protecting you, the utterly most insane and idiotic woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting, was his duty.
Looking back, even his young and angry and ignorant self had known, long, that he had fallen in love. A mosaic of everything he had ever hated, you were. Yet somehow, you turned out to be something he liked. Loved. He was too young to know what love is, but not too young to know that it’s blood that’s rushing up his cheeks. Not too young to see the curvature of your smile and your nose and your stubborn brows to feel like summer will be forever. Not too young to know that life would be worse if he hadn’t met you. When he is not with you, he’s stifled and awkward and mean and, unable to tell you all of these things.
Everything about you was intoxicating. Bakugou wasn’t the one for mead; any sort of alcohol or drugs, in his opinion, only hindered how well he could do his job. But you, you were a toxin he could not live without. Sans you, he’d rather die.
He wanted you. He wanted you so badly. Not in a dissolute way, you were too pure of an angel to mar (at least in his eyes).
He wanted you, in the sense that only he would be looked at by you in such a revered manner. And the spot in his heart was reserved for you, and you alone, a throne if you will. He wanted you, to him only. He wanted your eyes, your touch, your stupid rambles, all of it.
He was also a violent person, he knew his rough edges drew blood when people of delicate skin came too close. Skin who has never met slaughter, seen tragedy. Softness that has never come across the unjust of the world, the villainy.
His legs were close to collapsing. He had lost count however many laps he ran. Sweat dripped along his forehead as he continued on his umpteenth round. He ran, and ran, and the sole purpose was to collapse. Maybe fill his body up with utmost dopamine shots, like he was high or something, so the unending doubtful questions in his mind would leave him alone. ‘Fill your body up with endless endorphins’ he kept chanting, like a mantra.
Yet, he never knew he could have such gruesome and macabre thoughts when it concerned you. His hero costume was still stained with your blood, from when you laid dying in his arms, eyes glazed over and lips slightly agape, when All for One had stabbed you in the lung with a tendril. He had just lost All Might, he never thought he’d lose you, too. You were strong, you were persistent, a determined little shit who he had never thought would have to meet her end like this. He didn’t worry for you, and frankly it was why he stuck around you, he need not take care of you. Instead of being another burden on his already filled plate, you helped clear his silver platter; he knew if anyone would survive this, it would have been you, or so he thought.
The tendril that took you from him was the one that was going to take him from you. You selfish minx, was what he grumbled to himself as your breaths got shallower, sounds of ripping fabric growing from soft to more difficult to ignore as your lungs collapsed in on themselves. You were running out of air, and running out of air fast.
His salty tears left his face blotchy when they rained down on you like salvation.
He didn’t know what would have been the proper and appropriate attire to show up in. You were only an equal to him, nothing more and nothing less. Neither of you had such time for nonsense when all of you were dedicated to heroics, when your job was keeping the hearts of thousands of civilians beating, pulse alive.
He looked at the tombstone engraved with your name, your last legacy, until time calls for the moss and fern to come and erode the delicately carved words away. He wanted to grace the piece of rock with his brutally conditioned knuckles until the iron in his dignified blood, dosed with heavy nitroglycerin, left a permanent scar on your rusting heritage, so maybe then he wouldn’t need to question whether he was there or not.
The world is unfair, he has learnt since the ripe age of fourteen. Talented children with potent quirks born within the wealthiest of families will not know the stink of brothels and peril, men are made unequal, some are fed with silver spoons, and some quirkless. He has made peace with that, he thought. But he was wrong.
He forgave the world when it stripped him of his comrades, his friends. He thought maybe it was the consequences of his wrongdoings in a past life, a lesson to be learnt; but when he lost you, Gods will have to kneel before the man if they ever think he’d forgive them for doing such a deed.
He was then, once again, stripped of everything. It didn’t matter whether or not it was a punishment or a piece of Karma he rightfully deserved because he knew for a fact you would never be deserving of anything but love.
Regardless of your past sins, he was sure you would have redeemed yourself with the way you introduced light into his life. You were good. Plainly, simply, and so utterly good.
His fingertips grasp onto thin air as he cries, his fist cave on his own calloused palm instead of your tombstone. He finally lets his heart rip as he seemingly, for the first time in two months, recognizes that you are dead.
His wailing won’t bring your battered bones back together from six feet under. His tears of grief will only water your tomb and foster whatever plant that wants to take home on your resting place.
He lets out a few heartless laughs, at himself mostly— he has yet again ignored the wisdom God tried to bestow him with, such a rookie mistake has costed him you. Loving aloud never came easy to him as it did after death. The goodbyes, the ‘I’m sorry’s and the ‘I love you’ that stayed stuck in his pharynx never got to see the light of day before it was too late. Izuku. And now you as well; but what could he do? He’ll hold hands tighter, look at their faces longer, so he doesn't lose yet another person in his life from his stubborn, stubborn decisions.
At first, he wanted to rage at you. At last somebody who had their naivety and innocence stolen and robbed away like he had been was allowed to hold his heart; intricate hands that have seen bloodshed, your breath heavy and warm from maroon responsibility.
But he couldn’t. How could he?
#bakugou headcanons#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugou x you#angst#bakugo katuski#katsukibakugou#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugou#boku no hero acedamia#dynamight#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#hurt/comfort#sy.katsuki
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a (long) comprehensive list of buck related things in 7x04 that have me losing it as i rewatch:
- the stupid starry eyed look he has while getting the tour from tommy
- the terrible “i need mo jo” joke that tommy laughs at purely bc it was endearing
- “you didn’t call me because you wanted to see the toys”
- “you need to raise your bar kid” my GOD the “kid”
- ofc, the “no way!! eddie was in the army!”
- god they are so FLIRTY “really?” “my fees are competitive” “let me buy you a beer no WAY buck is this clueless
- eddie being so excited about the fight, and specifically the idea of buck joining help
- “keeping my options fluid” SIR
- evan?!?!?!????
- the close up shot as the fly off my heart
- the look on bucks face when eddie talks about tommy, boy is devastated
- “i saved a baby in a pipe once!” yes you did were so proud
- not buck related: but i adore ravi so much
- OKAY BUT BUCKS STUTTER !! they way he trips over his words when he’s surprised or nervous or even upset 😭
- “i do. i really do.” MY GOD OH MY GOD FUCK ASHHH AHHH
- and the SIGH after as eddie walks away, the building up the courage to ask more
- THE SAY HIS FACE DROPS WHEN EDDIE ASKS HIM TO WATCH CHRIS OHHH EDMUNDO WHEN I CATCH YOU
- “i keep saying, chris it’s not a video game” “because it’s harder than a video game???” maddie i see you and am so sorry you have to deal with this
- SAME WITH “he’s made an impression in a very short time” “i can see that” LIKE SHE IS SO NOT GONNA BE SURPRISED WHEN BUCK COMES OUT TO HER 😭
- “i don’t think you lie to a child just to ingratiate yourself” bro it’s not that serious i promise
- sorry brb imagining buck asking chris all these questions about tommy and chris going 🤔🤔🤔
- buck being upset that eddie invited tommy to play basketball even though eddie always asks him and he says no bc he doesn’t like it… he’s so me i can’t
- “was there a heart around it?” there might as well been maddie!!!
- peacocking buck we love and hate to see (it’s so embarrassing i have to close my eyes. “maybe we should hoop” sir please stop)
- the pouting OLEASE he’s so
- his smile
- the “evan” throws me off every TIME but also it kindaaaaa
- “what are the odds?” bro chill
- the smile when tommy fists bumps him oh i see you gay boy even if you don’t yet
- “so i’m your basketball beard” brother you don’t even KNOW
- i’m sorry the song that’s playing while they play basketball is “playing with the boys”🤔🤔… the lyrics too “i don’t wanna be obsessed but my desire with the boys” (and YES i am aware it’s a top gun reference, however that movie is also gay is hell and so is this song, moving on)
- tommy cocking his head when buck runs into him like oh my
- poor chim does not deserve to be put in the middle of all of this
- “well you bucked that up didn’t you” :(
- okay this scene between maddie and buck afterwards is actually so important to me, i love their ability to communicate, and how buck openly admits that he doesn’t know if he meant to hurt eddie or not, and that he was angry and lashed out, and maddie’s reaction to it :( “that’s not how you get someone’s attention”
- “i guess i was trying to get his attention” buck is the representative of the “i don’t know why i do the things i do until tons of self reflection after the fact” club, same im the president actually
- i do love that we get to watch him try and figure out why he acts and feels the way he does in real time! even at the end he still doesn’t entirely know until tommy is in his face staring at his lips
- the stutter is back 🫶
- “evan…” STOP THE WAY HE SAYS IT THAT TIME MAKES ME GIGGLE I CANT
- this entire scene drives me crazy btw i can literally pick it apart piece by piece… but the way he smiles throughout it makes my heart go akrjeidjdjsjd
- the chemistry is fucking IMMACULATE btw!! the flirting is so natural and it shows through buck being oblivious about it!! like brother no one stands that close to each other
- buck figuring out how he feels AS he speaks!!! poor boy is trying to catch up as fast as he can
- everything about the “okay” after tommy says “i can teach you”… the smile, the eye squint, the head tilt, like oh my GOD
- the way the tone changes when buck says “good” my GOD, the way his face drops as he comes to the realization that maybe it was about tommy the whole time
- the “cause trying to get your attention has been kinda exhausting” punches me in the gut EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS LIKE FUCK OH MY GOD BUCK LIKES MEN FR? and the way he says it GOD, like i said, he’s literally figuring this out as the words come out of his mouth (“i guess so”)
- okay my ONE nitpick about the kiss scene is that tommy grabs his chin, and then when it cuts it’s the two fingers under the chin, it’s inconsistent and i think i like the chin grab better
- the absolute STUNNED look in bucks eyes after the kiss!!! as the perfect oliver stark put it: he’s found something he’s been missing for a long time
- tommy is so worried in the split second before buck tells him that it was okay
- the wordless nod after tommy asks if it was okay THIS MEANS SO MYCH TO ME
- you can FEEL the sense of relief and wholeness radiating off of buck
- “better than fake mouth static” AKSHSISHS
- his eyes following tommy’s lips as he laughs, and then the brief look down like his whole WORLD has just been turned upside down before tommy speaks again
- i am so fucking here for buck being asked out and being stunned by it
- the stutter again 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
- tommy’s smile as he leaves like tee hee ur kinda cute
- the entire of his expressions at the end. there’s panic, there’s confusion, there’s happiness OLIVER STARK THE MAN THAT YOU ARE !!!!
in conclusion: this is everything i wanted and more, the brain rot is everywhere, i cannot escape this episode
#911 abc#bi evan buckley#evan buckley#tommy kinard#y’all this was just an excuse to get out every thought i had surrounding this in a controlled way#that last scene will live in my brain forever
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Ramblings of "I Don't Agree With Your 'Lifestyle' But I Still Want To Be Friends"
The more I don't want to talk to a certain demographic, the more hellbent they seem to be all up in my social spaces.
Are you into humiliation? Are you that desperate to talk to someone that you pick arguments with the other side for social interaction and then have the audacity to ask, "Why can't we be friends?"
Some of Trump's people have a weird way of making friends. You seriously want someone like me, that hates your guts and now sees you as a danger to my life and the lives of others, to be your friend after you voted to hurt people like me? I've been tagged and followed by weird ass blogs that want to act like regular mutuals when they're disgusting cheese puff cultists.
Can't you stick to your fellow pure white christians and leave people like me alone?
You "disagree" with my existence and are stupid enough to say "Me disagreeing with your entire life doesn't mean I want you dead."
Actually yes it does. You view my personal life and even ethnicity as something sexual and kinky, but yet you vote to make my existence illegal.
I'm a porn trope for insipid boring people raised in echo chambers. An exotic gothic mommy with an accent and weird beliefs that makes me "interesting". I have a lot of friends similar to me in likes and style and we've always noticed the sick fascination these fascist fucks have for us.
We're a novelty. It's sorta like what a friend told me once.
"They love our food on Taco Tuesday but on Wednesday they're calling ICE once they've got the recipe they plan on gentrifying."
These fuckers even lie about who they voted for to get into relationships with us. All the more reason to alienate your asses. You know we don't like you and still want to be there.
You don't have to be included in everything. I've seen some assholes even say that an interracial relationship isn't really interracial if there's no white person involved. You guys really showed us your thirst to be included in everything by how you called Obama, a mixed Black/White man, Black, while saying that Harris, an Indian/Black woman, wasn't really Black.
You even ignored how qualified she was to call her a DEI hire. She was way too good to be your president. I said it. TOO GOOD to be your president.
You completely disregarded the fact she was mixed because she didn't have a white parent, but 2 POC as parents. Your side used whiteness to determine her race.
Okay, I'll leave that there but I get really intense like this as a mixed woman of ambiguous features that gets confused with multiple ethnic groups frequently...
Some of you want to destroy us, view us as pornographic, entertainment and exotic beings like a freaking zoo. Everything we do is somehow done to turn you on and entertain you in your messed up mindset.
(and I'm not attacking all white people with this. I'm only attacking the willfully ignorant af ones that refuse to learn how fucked up they are. I've explained this issue many times before and they still want to fuck up so bad and impose their presence on us as if we're obligated to accept them. Apparently they are the only ones allowed to tell us they don't believe we should exist)
Maga are the type to want to go to a drag queens show to have a good laugh at a performance while... Not seeing the performers as real people with lives beyond your temporary entertainment.
My first spouse was a drag queen. Yes, it's not that big a secret. He was my spouse but worked in drag. I witnessed both sides of a coin during my 6 years of marriage to him.
As a man during the day he was respected and even feared (he was very fit and tall) but as his drag persona, she was beautiful and full of so much charisma that everyone had to simply stop to stare at her... While she was also sexually harassed and touched without permission. Her feminine appearance drew in disgusting people that didn't see her as having a right to her personal space.
Although we had our own set of problems, my ex always fought for women and protecting them because of his own experiences. He had been abused as a child as well by people that want to assault "femininity" since he had been a "pretty child".
One man even stalked my spouse and I had to pick him up from work.
I know people are probably shocked that a drag queen would marry a woman but... We are both bisexuals and found comfort in each other. It didn't matter to us that we were "odd". To us that "oddness" was normal.
The reason why I bring this up is cos the people that harassed my spouse and felt entitled to her body while in her fem appearance where people that were considered pillars of religious communities and it recent times have publicly supported Trump as a "true christian".
See what I'm getting at here. A lot of people on your side have being seeing us as undeserving of our protected physical space. Consent is seen as a dirty word and "woke" to a lot of you.
You're even having a hard time respecting consent when people tell you they don't want you in their lives for voting Trump.
"You like looking at us. Laughing at our jokes, yet if you had a chance you'd lie about us and want us dead."
You want them to entertain you but call them "groomers" and child molesters.
I've got a friend of mine that's gay and the amount of shitty braindead right wing comments he gets of, "I don't agree with your "lifestyle choices" but you're funny so I like you as a person-"
Do you fucks even listen to yourselves? I bet you think it's bad to refuse service to a christian nationalist but go outta your way to justify spitting on a potential customer for being lgbt+.
I've always played around with the idea of using my "beliefs" to completely scorn your ilk. I can say, "I don't hate you even though I disagree with your lifestyle choices," whenever religion or politics come up.
A lot of you think only your religion and beliefs are the ones to be respected. I'm a bruja in my community. Half of my family is. It's part of our culture and there's christians wanting to be friends with the "spooky bitches" that would be burned at the stake or forced into their colonizing religion if they had their way.
Last time I went to a wedding of two of my fave besties some straight guy that was invited made disgusting jokes about joining them in their honeymoon for "real sex". He was drunk, duh, but he went further by obnoxiously saying he was "living every man's dream" by being in a lesbian wedding.
He used alcohol as an excuse and even cried when getting kicked out... But a drunken man's ramblings are a sober man's truth.
Umm, lesbians are not interested in your dicks. They want other women. They're not doing this for your entertainment. This is why I say... We can never be friends with people like you that see our lives as something to get off on. You don't even see us as human and these election results further cements that along with the fact that you can't seem to respect boundaries set by others.
As soon as someone says they don't want Trumpers in their blog for literally voting to fuck up their rights to live peacefully ... A Trumper interacts starting a boohoo argument.
If they don't want you, they don't want you. You don't have to be included in everything, especially when you voted to exclude people like us . You've clearly drawn a divisive line in the sand with your vote and seem to be refusing to see how you utterly fucked up.
Even disabilities are fetishized and seen as insignificant ffs. Like "I get off on this but I think you don't deserve ACA for this disability I sexualized".
These things are what has made me realize that we don't have to accept you. In fact I find it annoying that people assume that we have to be "tolerant" when we should have been far from tolerant. Your side has been the ones that have voted for years to strip us of rights to even our money. Yes, social security, that we paid for, is getting cut cos republicans are such assholes that see the money we earned as a privilege.
It isn't just people like me that are in danger due to others voting without doing proper research. If you planned retirement, you'll have to wait till your 70s now, ACA and Obamacare are the same thing and the amount of people blindly celebrating getting rid of "Obamacare" while keeping "ACA" is sad. My neighbors fell for it and voted Trump. One of them has cancer. They're white and old, but have cancer and voted Trump. I heard the wife literally crying for awhile after another neighbor told her exactly what she voted for.
Her treatment... She voted against it. Their kids don't want them cos of how hateful they are and these people are gonna lose all medical aid and get their SS cheques cut.
All because they voted stupidly. Wanting cheaper groceries and "hurting the woke agenda" really has you getting FAFO.
But this isn't our lesson to learn. Its your lesson to learn. It frankly pisses me off that we're dragged along for the ride of your own karmic fuck up. We knew what was at stake while you didn't even bother yourself to think of the repercussions coming from your votes.
This is is no longer a difference of opinion but proof to show how selfish and with fake morals you truly are.
This is why we can't be friends. This is why we don't want to be friends.
Us distancing ourselves is about as much respect as we will show cos it's obvious you hate us so much you'll hurt yourself for it.
I need to stop posting essays, lol. But I hope someone that isn't offended easily but is willing to learn can finally see the whole picture and understand why we're feeling this way. I would consider making a series to show our perspective and to educate the already present ignorant stereotypes but I couldn't be assed to do it.
I mainly write for my own selfish reasons. To vent my inner thoughts and find others like me so we can build community among our peers.
If you attack my post, I don't care. I said my piece. If you want a proper conversation because you really want to understand... I don't know if I have the patience for it but I'm sure you'll find someone else that will...
Going back to my horror marathons.
#us politics#politics#lgbtqia#elections#elections 2024#personal#venting is a form of self cleansing and meditiation#personal articles to vent off negativity#long post#of various subjects
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Tell us about your dr who fic!
Happy Now is almost finished! By which I mean there are still two or three chapters left :) It’s about the retired Fourteenth Doctor unexpectedly meeting a younger version of the Master. As it’s always with me, there’s a lot of angst and hurt/comfort. As it’s always with these two, there’s a lot of miscommunication :)
Summary: The Doctor can finally have a peaceful, happy life … except of course he won’t be able to stay away and leave the Master in UNIT’s clutches for long, even if it only bodes trouble. When he finds the way to reverse the Master’s transformation, he’ll get the version of his arch-friend he’s been least expecting.
As for the Master, he’ll have a hard time figuring out what the Doctor might want in return for his help. There must be something, right? There’s always a catch.
And that's how it starts...
Whoever thinks being shrunk into a tooth and then reacquiring your usual size is anything but agony—they are very welcome to try it themselves. The Master whimpers, not quite lucid enough yet to be embarrassed about the pathetic sound he makes. With it, comes a vague awareness that his vocal cords are, in fact, working, and it can only mean one thing: he does have a body again. Which is both good news and bad news. The latter because everything fucking hurts, hurts, hurts. It feels just as bad as when he’d accidentally tested his Tissue Compression Eliminator on himself.
“Are you all right?” a voice comes from somewhere close, as familiar as the hopeful stupidity of the question.
The Master would have snapped because no, he obviously isn’t all right, but there’s a giddy thought muffling his irritation: He found you, he came for you. To be honest, he hadn’t expected that. Had stopped himself from hoping.
“Doctor,” he croaks out.
He blinks, tries to focus, his vision blurry. The face he knows all too well comes into view … and he has to blink again because—what? The Doctor looks much older than during the clash with Rassilon when the Master has last seen him. How much time might have passed?
“Can you move?” the Doctor asks urgently.
That’s a valid question, better than the previous one. He isn’t sure. It’s as if his muscles, tendons, and even bones have been stretched on a rack. He tries to rise up and fails at both accomplishing this feat and suppressing a groan. Stubbornly, he makes another attempt and finds that he’s lying on the floor in the Doctor’s arms, just like that time when he’d got shot on the Valiant. With the exception that he’s naked. He doesn’t have the strength to be mortified about it either, or even to make a joke of it.
“It’d be easier to get us out of here if you could,” the Doctor says almost apologetically.
“Where are we?”
“UNIT headquarters. At first, I thought it would be better to carry you out…uh…the way you were, compressed, so to speak, but they’ve got a lot of empty labs here, and necessary equipment. A cylinder with Numismaton gas and other stuff… So it seemed like a good idea to do the reversal here. Anyhow, now we need to sneak out, and it might be a bit of a problem. I mean—your face. I mean—even the erased year aside, you still got yourself quite famous down here, assassinating the US president. Hard to forget such a Prime Minister.”
“Stop yapping,” the Master orders. Maybe it comes out more like a plea. He’s dizzy and still not quite in control of his body; too many words—they barely sink in. But ‘UNIT headquarters’ sounds bad enough. Not that the Master is going to complain about being resurrected as such, but couldn’t the Doctor find a suitable lab anywhere else?
#wip asks game#doctor who#fourteenth doctor#the master#simm!master#thoschei#tensimm#saxteen#doctor/master
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My main issues with online feminism, which includes hispanic instagram (LatAm and Spain) and tumblr anglosphere (think Europe + USA sometimes Australia) are:
They think of non single women (married or with a bf) as the primary pick me in society. I dont doubt a lot of them priorize their man but also, the way feminist depict them as "brainwashed" is just childish. My main problem is that obscures the fact that you can priorize men even if you're not in a romantic relationship with them. Boymoms, male relatives such as brothers or fathers are constantly excused or justified just as much as romantic partners. Yet Ive barely see criticism against this. Whats more is that mothers are excused as if the pressure of maternity excuses throwing under the bus your own daughter (why is never the other way around?? Fucking over your son bc of your daughter). Even women have justified horrendous actions made by their male friends (trans or gay) in cases where there is no attraction involved. Just social leveraging.
Speaking of attraction. The way they talk about assault as being a result lf violent sexual desire aka pretth privilege doesnt exist because hot women are more attacked. This is by far the most imbecile of all takes. Assault and sexual violence are a result of control and domination, not attraction. The more vulnerable a woman is, the likelier she will be assaulted. This includes older women, girls, runaways, homeless, sick, disabled, immigrants, addicts and poor women. This has nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with how much will men get away with assaulting you. The fact ive read "are you saying elderly or poor women arent attractive" when talking about assault is proof that even among so called feminists, the idea that sexual violence stems from attraction is still ingrained. Stop it for the sake of god.
I know fish can't see water but american feminists really really ignore how much of their culture affects misogyny worldwide. The impact of the american worldview on misogyny is not little stuff. The consumerist, hollywoodesque point of view is native to the USA. American feminists call this "liberal feminism" to distance themselves from what is just plain american misogyny. This shitshow of "eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man" is a product of the american perspective of making everything a marketing campaing. This goes back to Max Revlon, Edward Bernays and other PR gurus who knew that the best way to make profit was to market everything. American feminists are limiting their analysis by thinking this is a matter of contradictory branches of feminism (lib vs rad) and not a matter of americanized misogyny. Lets remember radfem stems from marxism, the actual one not the tumblr version.
The way how no one actually read books but everyone wants to say something smart. From "capitalism of words" to "you can escape from labor exploitation by being a tradwife " everyone loves to post half assed essays who say stupid shit or not saying anything at all. Ive been accused of being a russian psyop, an spanish white woman with guilt, or even wishing rape on another woman just for stating sociology 101 points. Basic knowledge of marxism is a must if you call yourself a feminist. Im sorry but how else are you gonna understand women's oppression today (in a capitalist system) if you think tankies are psyops. Gimme a break, some of you are worse than breadtubers.
The lack of interest in women's news around the world. Basically if it isnt a major tragedy in Europe or USA or a fucked story about the Middle East (which for the majority, those countries are interchangeable, see: "if she's from Algeria why isnt she in a hijab" even tho Algeria is in Africa but whatever), no one cares about women. The North American continent got its first female president, Claudia Sheinbaum, and everybody in here was busy whining about a stupid pop princess poll bc a nobody TIM got the upperhand. Cmon. Spanish feminist were more preoccupied about a fat woman announcing New Year's Eve than the historical election of a woman in a hispanic country. And that is just the most egregious example.
If i think of anything else Ill add it but this is my experience as someone who has been on feminist circles for a decade.
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“zionism was invented by jews for jews. the majority of diaspora jews support it in some form because it’s the jewish landback movement.” okay. so when do palestinians get to do it? clearly, this logic is flawed. everyone should know that the nations we come from have always been somewhat mixed, that’s just how humans are. stop trying to justify ethnostates by whitewashing them as “landback” movements.
do you have to work to be this stupid? logic? you want to talk about a concept you’re allergic to? do you not know what the fuck jordan is, or any of the peace agreements palestinians said no to? or who palestinians even are? they’re arabs, you googly eyed fucking turd. jordan was originally supposed to be the palestinian state and was until their terrorist groups came in and started executing kings and shit. now jordan doesn’t want palestinians in their country.
“whitewashing.” jews aren’t white, you raggedy ass bitch. we have never once been considered white until whiteness was the new bad thing to be. that’s why the shoah happened in the first place, dingus. we were never welcomed anywhere either after a chunk of our population was FORCIBLY DISPLACED BY OPPRESSORS.
but history doesn’t count right? when jews are involved? 😂 i see you, dude.
just say you don’t know what indigenous levantine people actually look like or lmao WHO THEY ARE or where arabs come from or how they got to the levant. or what landback even is. or basic history. or how ethnicity works. so, in other words, you don’t even go here.
also arabs have 22 ethnostates. japan even counts as an ethnostate. i don’t see you hating them. instead, i see you hating the one jewish country instead. and you want to act like you’re not a fucking bigot.
we have one strip of land the size of new jersey where everyone has equal rights. yes, arabs have equal rights there and have parties in the knesset. the minority leader of the knesset was the EX ADVISOR TO ARAFAT for ages. he’s still in the knesset. an arab judge sentenced a jewish president. more arabs live in israel than jews live in europe currently. but you have a problem when jews want our land back. you deny history and basic facts when jews are involved. suddenly we’re what hitler and all the other jew haters said we were: invaders, a scourge that needs to be cleansed. and yet you think you hate nazis, right? you argue their points in every message you’ve sent, along with arab supremacist points.
and for some reason, you feel like you can talk over jews on what our ethnicity is and who we are. arabs are suddenly indigenous to the levant to you and jews are european. your worldview is so fucked, martians would likely know more than you.
you cannot colonize a land you were displaced from. indigenous status does not expire. learn some fucking history that wasn’t spewed out by the PLO propaganda wing in the 60s.
yes, fayez sayegh, head of the PLO propaganda wing in the 60s, helped come up with all the shit you are currently spewing, including the MYTH of israelis being settler colonialists. (khalid helped too.)
(also sayegh? syrian who’s buried in lebanon but pretended to be “palestinian” btw.)
he also contradicted himself before he joined the plo and wrote:
“Until World War I, Palestine was essentially and inextricably a part of the Arab World. As a political entity, it had no existence of its own; it was an indistinguishable part of a larger Arab region, subject to Ottoman rule. As a community, its language and dialect, its culture and social structures, were identical with those of the surrounding Arab communities.” (1956, Sayegh “Arab Israeli Conflict”)
aka the truth before he dedicated his life to chugging out propaganda you all eat up like candy. although tbh before the 60s, arabs didn’t like being called palestinians. that was actually reserved for jews, which is why they stole the term later.
but anyway, in conclusion:
jews are from judea. arabs are from arabia. you’re a moron who’s spewing bullshit. hope that helps.
you done? like what exactly do you know? 😂🥱
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3. picturing violence
pic credit
masterlist
word count: 7143
warnings: verbal abuse, convos about rape
music: tsunami by bambie thug
author's note: i invented the term of nomad agent
Chibs took off his helmet and looked into the sky. It was nice sitting on his bike again. The ass just didn't feel the same for the whole last week when it didn't feel the firm and steady seat of his favorite beast.
Now that the club's wallet was two and a thousand bucks lighter, it stung like the sum was much higher. Nobody dared to fuck with bikes before. The fact that the parking lot stod empty probably gave them all some kind of light trauma, he was thinking. He knew Juice had one. He was seeing it in his eyes that shone with the lost expression, asking silent questions. Obviously, it was just a little scare. But it did have an unpleasant smell of trouble.
He got off the bike and moved his legs, aiming for the bar door, thinking only about what he wanted to drink. The time is two o'clock, ripe time for whiskey. He wanted nothing more from this world until there was a glass of whiskey in him, calming his nerves and warming his body. After a spell of hot weather, suddenly June, the month, not the bitch, brought cold winds from the ocean. It was pleasant and even chilly at times. Whatever the fuck was happening with the climate.
He walked, eyes focused on the bar door, trying to not see anything else. And yet, and yet. Click-clack of the heels on the asphalt was following him. Chibs added some speed to his stride, hoping that maybe she was running towards someone else.
"Filip!"
"Ohhhh, shit", he grumbled. The holy door only ten steps away from him, as the slender hand caught him on his shoulder. He turned to see Lyla's flushed face. The Barbie curls around it, popping with every movement she made. Her hand clutched his shirt like she was going to stay there forever, hang down from it like a keychain.
"What is it, doll?" he asked, not even trying to make his voice sound friendly. He put his palm on top of hers, guiding her further into the bar. But she said:
"The studio! It's been busted! We're closed!"
Chibs stopped in his tracks, clutching her hand.
"The- what?"
"She... she came in today, with a bunch of cops, and closed us! She even wanted to arrest me but postponed it, because... because I have to pick up the kids..."
As she was stumbling through her words, Chibs started seeing red.
"What is she? Who is she?" he asked calmly.
"You know", she started fevereshly combing her hair, her fingers trembling. Everything was ruined for her; her only source of income, her job, her stability. But she didn't cry; Lyla rarely cried. She might become hysterical for some time, to work through the initial shock, but she always swam up. So Chibs was patient with her.
"The agent, that bitch that took your bikes".
A sardonic grin pulled on his mouth. The desire for whiskey was now replaced by the need for blood. He could just picture her stupid knowing smile, the eyes that looked at the girls like they were less than, as she was slapping around their bare asses, ordering them to line up for her.
"Did you tell Opie? Jax?"
"Yes, yes, they're at the club", she pointed her finger there, where he was initially going, "they're waiting for you. I was going to ride back to the studio, to see what was left, and..."
He switched off. Tapping her on her bare shoulder covered in goosebumps, whether from cold of distress, he rushed on for the door, pushing it with his shoulder, digging for the cigarette in his pocket.
"Sorry, I'm late", he grumbled as he entered the chapel. A dozen of attentive eyes turned up to him.
"Hey, Chibs. You found Parker?"
"Yes", he said and heavily fell into his chair by Clay's right hand. By the looks of it, the President was just as pissed. His bloodshot eyes told him he didn't get any sleep, either. For the last two weeks all they did was clean up their messes that were blown up like ant houses by June Pallum. They cleaned it up, she went on and blew the next one. After she seized the bikes, they barely made it to the gun deal with the Niners that evening, scurrying for the old, vacant bikes, the cars and the licences for them. The very next day after the deal, before they had a chance to receive the delivery from Ireland, Laroy was arrested for human trafficking. If this was something petty like the stuff she got them for, a parking ticket, debauchery, he would've been out. But June sure struck gold. She couldn't have been working alone: the timing, the charges were too instrumental to be a coincidence. She waited until the deal was through, and they had a warehouse full of fucking military guns, to arrest their buyer. Now, she was free to dance into their garage with their own warrant.
They simply didn't have time for anything else. This morning Chibs spent six hours searching for an obscure replacement for Laroy to sell off the guns to; a risky and unreliable choice, but they now had to get rid of those as soon as possible. The shit was just falling from the sky. The funniest thing was, this was all perfectly legal. None of the regulations of fair labor were upheld in Cara Cara, because working around them was more comfortable for everybody involved. More money for the club, less taxes for Lyla, more breaks and higher pay for the actors.
Listening to the heated complaining around the table was like watching someone cradling their blown off arm. He bit the butt of the cigarette and then killed it in the ashtray, blowing out the smoke through gritted teeth.
"Ya missing the point", he interrupted. Bobby fell silent, his mouth still open as he was in the middle of a rant.
"We need to ask ourselves why it's so easy for... her. It all, what we do, has turned sloppy. Porn studios are legal in the state, but do you ask yourselves why it took one morning to shut it down?"
"Because of all the loops", Jackie supported him. It looked like he was the only one actually paying attention. The others were too preoccupied with the fact that June was too young, that she appeared to suddenly; scared by the three big letters to think straight. This was all true, but besides the point.
"We need to get our shit together. Obviously she doesn't respect any of the agreements we used to have with the city".
"Used to have?" asked Tig unhappily, "You think she's going to go against absolutely everything? That means no more girls in the club".
"That your biggest concern now, Tig?" asked Juice.
Clay was listening quietly, again. Chibs started to suspect that Morrow found it particularly difficult to be disturbed like that by a girl. Gangs, rivals, cops, he could understand. But his mind was struggling to justify the nonsense whose top of the head didn't even reach his chin. It didn't make any sense to him. Instead of looking at the problem at hand, no matter how absurd, he was trying to create the ways how it wasn't what they were seeing. And Chibs was right.
"Tig, Juice, Kozik. Dig into it, find who's the boss. This little fly is starting to piss me off", he boomed. Everybody fell silent.
Chibs rubbed his chin. He exchanged looks with Jackie.
"Clay", he started, but Morrow raised his hand. He struck the gavel. The point was closed.
As the chapel epmtied up, he was still sitting, biting on his busted lip. The shoulder blades had a slow, pleasant ache, because last night, he was unloading these shit trucks full of guns, racing against the time. Now at least he had a minute to breathe.
Jackson left his chair, pushing it away woth force, and walked alongside the table to land across from him. His sky-blue eyes were piercing the man's face.
"I think he's making a mistake".
"You damn right he is", Chibs said. Too tired to focus his eyes again, he was watching the smudges on the table, floating in circles.
"What does it matter who she's working with, how many of them. We need to be one step ahead, clean out our own shit not to give her an opportunity to grab us by the balls".
"Where do we even start?" Jackie said. Then he suddenly grinned. That was true, it was funny. Chibs couldn't hold back a chuckle, too. Yes, she was now in their fruit garden, where illegal activities and violations were hanging for the taking, so low that she didn't even need to stand up on her tiptoes. Every business - smeared with compromises. Every partner they have, with dozens of warrants waiting to be issued on their names. Every building they own - full of ammo, drugs or severed heads. She didn't need to have a boss, a team or an advisor. She just needed on thing: not care about the order of things.
"Why do you think she's doing it? What is she trying to do?"
"I don't buy the sexist shit", Chibs shook his head.
"What sexist shit?" Jackie frowned.
"The morning she took the bikes, she gave me the whole lecture about how we are barbaric, low-IQ, insults to the civilised community or whatever. Said we shouldn't exist because we don't treat our women right".
Chibs allowed a crooked smile across his face, looking at the youngster who huffed.
"Talk about nuance. No, there has to be something else".
"I agree, Jackie. We need to know what this something is. I refuse to believe that the Bureau sends this random ass profiler folicule to clean Charming of one single gang. Sounds funny when I say it".
"What do you think it is then?"
He was watching every move of his face, Chibs realized. It made something crack and heal in his chest, this fact the he missed the moment when Jackie started looking up to him. This was true though; as he was growing up, Jackson first relied on his step-father, but then step-father started falling away. The issue of Clay not being all there was a different story. Jackie then started listening to Bobby, who was always good at telling him when he was stepping wrong. But when did this happen, that he looks at him with this kind of expectation? Waiting for his judgement. He probably knew that Chibs loved him to no end. And Chibs, himself, realized that it wouldn't be long before Jackson was fit to replace Clay. Maybe, if he's the President, shit like this doesn't happen.
"Too early to say. We need to dig, Clay was right about that".
Jackie nodded.
"Dad's trying to make everybody see that he has the biggest balls in town", he said, his lips curling in the expression of resentment. "He's going to try to make everything fix itself by the sheer force of him being the fucking boss of Charming. Like everybody has to respect the way the things are, just because".
"Don't be too harsh on him", Chibs advised, "no matter how badly he does, family goes through three hundred loops".
Teller gave it a pause, his finger nudging someone's cigarette butt around the table.
"What does it mean?"
"You cut off a stranger after one strike. But family gets three hundred".
"It's almost like you don't know my family. They're already on strike four hundred fifteen".
They laughed again.
Nobody wanted to go see the police. For the obvious reason that they were all afraid that, should it be them to go, they will smother the bitch upon seeing her. They had to draw the short match, and Juice had the end of the stick. Together with Lyla and Opie, he was elected to go to the station and bargain the studio back. Not even sure it would work; but there were certain regulations that could still save the business. Thus, even before dinner time, the two thousand hole turned into twenty thousand. And all they had left to do was drink. Chibs, however, was thinking about his own little hunt. Mindhunter. Mindreader. These were the words floating around his head as he finally got to the bar, hugging the bottle, his savior. First, he needed to check with Ally, see how she's doing about Laroy. He didn't have a lot of hope about it; Laroy wasn't one of them, wasn't her client. She was already doing them a huge favor by getting involved with this. Perhaps they could pull her from him and guide onto the studio. After all, Parker was going to buy off all of the guns tomorrow.
Chibs started to return to June's file like it was his nighttime story for bed. Memorizing every ambiguous line, trying to read between them, see the clues in the numbers.
Twenty-nine, with three serial killers in jail under her name. As far as he knew, sometimes it took tens of years to catch even one. This devilish determination could mean rotten trouble. She caught the Florida Cutter. Chibs remembered him, from the news. This was a big case around five years ago. The guy who cut out women's eyes. It took almost thirteen years to catch him, and this little shitter was the one? She was only twenty-four back then. Nobody should even have taken her seriously at that time in the Bureau. She might have something behind those cherry eyes, boring him from the picture. Maybe she's gone through some crazy trauma or something. Shit like this usually motivates girls to overachieve to the ends of the world.
And the dog test. p a s s e d t h e d o g t e s t. What does it mean?
He took a sip and looked around the bar at the boys. Happy was picking his nose, Bobby at his side, telling him something. Jackson on the phone. Lyla gathering her stuff, lighter, phone, bronzer or some shit, all in different spots. Always left her shit lying around, happy, vibrant girl. Juice was pacing at the door, a stark contrast to Opie who waited like a security guard. Clay was nowhere to be seen. They were on their own.
"Still readin?" Tig slapped him across the back, and Chibs hissed like a hyena.
"Yes, a word a day", he snapped.
"What are you hoping to see there?" without waiting for an answer, he plopped himself onto a stool next to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.
"You know what I was thinking? We gang up on her. Problem solved".
Chibs slowly moved his eyes onto his face. Sometimes he wanted to poke out his stupid peepers.
"Gang up on her, huh?"
"Yeah. Gang rape. I bet you she won't be as cocky after it. Fuck all that smug out of her".
He had to let the flare pass over his body first, to calm down a little. Then he felt his neck crook like he was an actual desert dog:
"That's just a great idea, Tig".
His face lit up.
"You think?"
"Yes. This kind of great ideas put us in the kind of shit we're in now. Gang rape, what a marvelous initiative. Let's just fuck her in all of her holes because this won't have any consequences. It's not like she's with FBI or anything. Because Sam Crow is built exactly on these values: gang bang any bitch who comes our way the wrong way".
Tig blinked with one eye. He noticed Chibs' jaw tighten and pulled the bottle from his hand.
"Alright, it was a joke. Don't need to get all fired up about this".
Chibs returned to the file that still didn't have to say anything. He closed it, unable to look her in the face. He couldn't shun this picture out of his head now, implanted there by fucking Tig. Something about this was very wrong. Now, choking her, with her clothes on, that was another matter. He closed his eyes, relaxing on the stool, picturing himself squeeze the life out of her. That's better.
"I'm not really going to rape anybody. If I want to, I can get any woman in this town, no force applied. You gotta see the difference between jokes and reality, dude".
"Please, shut up", he whispered.
Jackson was pacing across the parking lot towards the blue Toyota that was swerving into a spot. He raised his hand and waved it, wondering what this Parker would look like. The voice on the phone sounded youthful and wicked, but the guy looked nothing like that. A bit overweight but handsome in all accords, he got out of the car and closed the door with a swing of a person who was about to enjoy his day.
"Morning!" Jax yelled. Parker greeted him with a tip of an invisible hat. This was bad; clownish behavior didn't mean good business. But he had to make it work. Wouldn't get another chance.
They finally shook hands. Parker had light green eyes that he raised to the sky, to look at the clouds.
"Nice weather in California, huh?"
"You had a good ride?"
"Long, hot, and without sleep, thank you", the man smiled. Jax gestured towards the clubhouse,
"Coffee? Breakfast? Let's talk after you've relaxed a little".
His ears moved towards the sound of the end of the world. Light tap-tap-tap.
"Good morning, gents".
The voice he was now listening to in his disgusting nightmares.
"Oh, for fuck's sake", he moaned, turning to her. June tried a solemn expression on her face.
"What's the matter with me, I keep hearing this all the time now, wherever I go".
He clenched his jaws, thinking as fast as he could, but nothing except curses came to mind.
"Maybe it's a sign, agent".
"Hi, I'm agent Pallum", she held her hand out to Parker. Jax slapped it away in the last desperate attempt to shield the buyer from this soul-sucker. Parker bat his eyes at her.
"Are you here to buy the guns?"
"The guns?" Parker asked innocently.
"Yes, big Irish guns".
Jax was glad that this dude was quick-thinking.
"What are you talking about, agent?" he tuned in. "What guns? This is a car service point".
June looked genuinely lost for a second, only to reveal a sly frown.
"Oh, silly me. I must be at the wrong garage!"
All three of them gave a polite laugh, musles tense. Jax felt the vein beating on his temple.
"So, you must be the other Alex Parker, not the leader of the 'White South' movement?"
"No, miss, you must be mistaking me with somebody", Parker said politely. "But I'm afraid I haven't seen your badge".
Jax was seeing red. She knew the name, the time and the place. She knew she didn't need to find the guns per se, just to upset the deal. She slid her hand into the back pocket of her jeans and produced her badge.
"FBI, huh?" Parker chuckled. His eyes darted to Jax who was silently begging him. Begging. The man started inching back towards his car. Jax tried to move his head, swing it on his neck half an inch, but the fish was wiggling off the hook.
"Yes. So what's wrong with your car, mister Parker?"
"Breaks", he said shortly, "but seeing as some commotion is up today, I think I might have to find a different car repair for myself".
"There's one three streets away, Lindon and Brothers".
"Thanks, agent".
"You're welcome", she followed him until he was in the car again, placing her palm on the roof.
"Don't run into an accident, mister Parker".
Her polite smile was reflected in the dark window. Blue Toyota started again, and they both stepped away to let it out of the spot.
Jackson was watching his best chance at avoiding the shitstorm drive out of the lot. He could feel his hands turn into fists in the pockets of his pants. By themselves.
June shifted her weight from one foot to another.
"Six fucking am. You couldn't have it a bit later?" she asked. Jax couldn't unglue his jaws. He specifically made it so early to avoid her.
"I need a coffee".
She had the audacity to turn around and walk towards the bar.
"You're not getting anything in my bar!" he yelled. June stopped, her eyebrow raised, like he was the one who's insane.
"You're not keeping the guns right there, are you? You're not a complete idiot?"
He followed her, his legs moving out of his volition. He wanted to just lie on the ground for some time, to think. Maybe they can just drown the guns. In a swamp somewhere. Maybe they can drown her there, too. The swamp, it devours the body, you can't find it. She'll just disappear.
The bar was quiet now, everybody at the ready, in warehouse, waiting for them. The plan was to treat Parker to a breakfast here, discuss the price, and then drive him out of town. He pulled the phone and stabbed the buttons to start a call. Without losing her out of sight, he stopped at the door and fell onto the bench, waiting for an answer.
June, meanwhile, pulled the door opened. The last time she entered the bar, she was a promising, bouncy whore. Now she wore a turtleneck and dark-grey jeans, and on the belt of those, she had a holster complete with a gun.
As she entered, she was presented with an unpleasant sight: two blondes, one of them Lyla, in the danger-aware positions on the two sides of the bar. Bobby on a stool, with his hands up, yelling promises at the second blonde, the one closer to the door, who held up a gun. Her nose was bleeding.
"I am already coming back, Jackie, almost at the parking lot", said Chibs on the phone. "Happy fucking vomited. I need to fetch his medicine".
"He was drinking last night, wasn't he?"
"Yeah, it's the nerves".
Jax turned his gaze towards the gates, expecting to see his bike riding in.
"We're screwed, Chibs", he uttered.
"No worries, Jackie. We'll find someone else".
"How? She's already here".
The call ended as Chibs rolled into the garage territory. Jax stood up to walk to meet him when he heard a scream from the bar.
"And who the fuck are you? Another fucking girlfriend?" Ima yelled. June couldn't hold back a grimace.
"Jesus Christ. Why do you all have a problem with dying the roots?" she inquired. Ima shook the gun, clearly at the end of her patience. June evaluated the situation: unstable lady with a small caliber, one of the idiots at the bar, useless, drunk from the night, and Lyla, just there. The black eye of the barrel was pointing at her. At six am. It made her angry.
"Don't approach! You're the FBI bitch", proclaimed Ima.
"The BAU bitch", she muttered tiredly.
June assumed a more stable position.
"Turn the gun away from me", she warned. Ima didn't seem to hear her. But it was annoying that every time she was here, something wild was going down.
"On your knees!" Ima demanded. June stepped to her. The gun jumped up and down, like it was nodding in acknowledgement. June ducked and hit her on the elbow from below, seizing the weapon and pushing it away, then twisted her arm. Ima yelped in pain. June couldn't stop herself, bringing her down on the floor and twisting it just a little further, to release the anger. There was no crack, but she shook her well, pushing her away with her foot.
Lyla produced a shriek-like sound, unsure of which direction to move. Ima was sobbing on the floor. And there was nobody behind the bar. June rubbed her forehead, looking at Bobby who was still sitting on a stool, one hand in the air. She groaned quietly, deciding on another place, and left the bar.
As she saw the light again, it was violently interrupted by a black flash. Like she ran into a tree. She stumbled on her feet, catching herself on the nearby table, but still collapsed on the floor.
"Found anything interesting?"
June blinked a couple of times, holding herself up on the elbow. The hit was so refreshing that she saw colors much birghter now. This dude. The iron dude. He was standing above her, Jackson Teller behind his back, like he had summoned his dad to protect himself. She laughed out at this picture, and yelped at the same time: her nose stung.
"You should be serving coffee at this time of day", she uttered, holding her palm at her face.
"The only thing you'll be served is me fist", he replied. June got up. Lyla stumbled out of the bar.
"Yeah, get that, bitch", she roared. June dropped her jaw in amusement and surprise: she neutralized the girl who was about to shoot this idiot!
She sniffed, surrounded by these people who hated her so intensely it was almost sexual. She especially didn't like the kind of look Telford gave her. Like he was trying to stomp her out with his eyes.
"You got a reason to be here?" he asked.
"I got a reason to arrest you for attacking an agent on duty", she said, breathless. She was finally up, reevaluating everything she was preparing herself for. If one loving slap of a wrist blasts her into the ground so hard that her body leaves an impression - she needs to change the tactic. Maybe she should start carrying a knife with her, think about the close range weapon. Chibs stepped up to her, eyelids lazy, giving him the jaded look of a killer.
"Then arrest me. You got a car to drive me to the station?"
Ima finally got up from the floor by the sound of it. She was looking for the gun. Lyla jumped out and hopped towards Jackson. June's hand reached for the holster out of habit. But the girl just whined, gun hanging soggily from her hand, as she left the doors and walked past all of them, unnoticing.
"I have no wish to see any more of you small dick jerking asshole today", June admitted.
"Then vanish", Jax said. June nodded. It was quite humiliating to be honest, the walk of shame in Ima's steps. The blood was dripping from her nose onto her turtleneck and jeans. Assaulted officer, she could actually take him away for some time. Even give him a good charge. Maybe a couple of years in prison. To avoid them, a great deal with DA. That she would burn up and put him away for even longer. Her car was parked outside the gates; she wouldn't risk it getting vandalized or even getting locked in here. It's incredible how childish those criminals were, about the illegal things they did. That's the thing she was always amazed at. How little self-awareness they have.
They had to regroup. Come on now, Chibs, he thought. You got this. Just a quick plan B. Problem was, they didn't have it.
He was chainsmoking, sitting on the sofa arm while Gemma was in the shower. Studying the pattern of the carpet. Sharp tipped leaves and oranges on the brown background. Someone banged on the door, and he went to open.
"Mexicans agreed", Juice was panting, "Jax dropped the price about three times, but they agreed".
Chibs closed his eyes. His hand grabbed the boy by the neck and pressed against his body.
"Thank fuck, Juicie, thank fuck".
He decided not to bother Gemma, left her a message on the phone, and set off with Juice. The drop was in three hours. This was the closest to the complete disaster they've been in months. They sent Happy and Tig to the station; a couple of Prospects headed to her house to guard June even if it meant nailing her hands to the floor. The police didn't give a shit. It was only when she gathered them in a team that the everyday business became a problem suddenly.
The world was delightfully purple while they drove towards the warehouse. They also had to move the storage to a new one, outside of the city. They now worked overtime. No sleep at all. Everybody was angry. But Chibs felt good, for once. At least he guided some of his frustration onto her today, so she fucked off hopefully. Drew some blood, which was proof that she was human. The brat occupied his thoughts like a tiresome burden. At the same time it was a welcome challenge - he wouldn't tell that to anyone, of course. He was the kind of person to welcome change, especially if it was a change for the better. Maybe it was high time they finally got their shit together. The talks of going legit have been floating around for years, all to no avail. Sometimes it took one bloodsucking bug to get you straight. Not like that, of course. The stress was wearing them out. Their ego was being attacked. But her bleeding nose was a pleasant sight, raw, almost beautiful. She was a good-looking girl. Shame that she came from hell.
"You think we're okay for tonight?"
"I hope she stays at home mending her nose", Chibs replied. Juice shifted in his passenger seat, black spears moving with sweat on his skull.
"Don't wiggle. Don't worry. Keep on the course".
"Okay. How are you staying so calm? If it goes wrong, we'll lose so much money".
"It's going to be okay, Juice. Just go by the plan. We'll figure it out. Three foot world".
"What's a three foot world?"
Only focus on things that are at your reach if you want to succeed. The things you can reach for with your hand. June's nose was wheezing a little, but the pain ceased. The bruise might manifest, but it's not broken. She went to the bathroom for the third time this day, because it kept bleeding. Captain tried to send her home, what a joke of an excuse. They knew, that she knew, that Mexicans are with CIA. And she knew about the drop later tonight because the said Mexicans called her up to warn her. Finally her actions became clearer for everybody, and they stopped treating her like she was some kind of a gift for the station. Gradually the courteous admiration turned into a polite wariness, then, finally, friendly warnings. Don't bust that business, June. It's half-legit. Don't arrest that person. He works with the DA and feeds the info on gangs. No, she didn't care. And they finally were getting ahold of that. Needless to say, Captain quietly let go of his promise to find her an office. He caught her when she was leaving the bathroom.
"June!"
She winced, shifting in her jeans, unpleasant cold in the spot where she was trying to wash off the blood furiously.
"I'm not going home", she sang, moving on. Boulder caught up with her.
"But you're not going to the drop tonight, either, right?"
She looked into his face. Will her body withstand another altercation today? Sure, why not. She had slept about five hours, it was nice. The collision actually seemingly energized her. She was absorbing the pain. The cruelty. The hatred. And converting it into energy. Didn't even feel hungry, only carried on on coffee, and it was already four o'clock.
"Well, no, if that's what you want to hear".
"Listen", Captain shook her by the shoulder firmly, "you can't interfere with their CIA operations. It's final. We're working in a bulk here".
"Is this an order?"
"You know damn well I can't order you. But what I can do is call your superior".
"I have no superior", she said simply. Boulder's jaw unhinged with the unspoken question.
"I left the department, didn't I tell you?"
"Wh..."
"I'm a nomad agent at the moment. Kind of... nowhere at all. I'm in between titles", she nodded to herself. She didn't wish to startle or offend him. Boulder was trying really hard to hold everything together, he was a nice man. To her displeasure she found out that this town was full of pleasant and rational people. But her inner dedication was just a little stronger than all that.
"So, what the hell are you even doing here?" Captain asked, aghast.
"This is my case. I've got it from the city last year. Been working for it for a long time. Call it my passion project".
He gathered himself back together.
"So, this is not an order from above".
"No, no. I thought I made it clear in my application".
"It was written so convolutedly, it's impossible to read", he nagged. "And you mean to tell me that all this shit you've been stirring, it's just for your own kicks?"
"Not at all. SAMCRO is just a bunch of criminals. Vile shit for Charming. I do it for the city".
Boulder's face was distorted, changing expressions like channels on TV. His lips moving, disbelief written all over.
"That makes... you get no team. If you go there, June, you go alone. You got it?"
"Yeah, sure", she agreed. "No team".
He left her, retreated into his office and probably started making calls. He wouldn't get anything more than 'yeah, right' from them. She had this one right, to choose cases now, because she'd earned it. When she thought about this, she usually scratched at the scar on her elbow. Pondering, she returned to her desk and sat down, feeling for the airpods case.
No team means no result. But she can't let this opportunity to hurt them slide. Even if she's just an inconvenience that makes them tip off and argue, that's good. It doesn't take long for a bucn of people like that to implode. Her ears moved with the rattling sound of motorcycle engines outside. She jumped up, gathered her stuff and ran for the back door.
Chibs lifted up his purple glasses onto his forehead.
"What a nice weather", he murmured. Bobby hummed approvingly. "I wish it was always mild like that".
"Amen, brother".
The round man stepped to and fro, finishing his smoke. They were scanning the lot with their eyes. Big old warehouse, essentially stables, stood above them like a mountain; even if there was sun, at this time it would be overshadowed. Looming above the lot like it was giving shelter. Jax and Clay were speaking about something quietly aside.
"They're coming!" yelled Kozik. Everybody changed their poses. Shoulders up, backs straight, necks squashed like they were turtles. Someone spat on the ground for good luck. Chibs and Bobby moved like the hands of the clock to greet the two cars with their backs to the warehouse.
They watched the Mexicans emerge from the vehicles, glasses glistening, smiles on their faces. Yeah, anybody would smile for the deal like that. 70% discount for a hundred guns. It could have been the most embarrassing moment this year. He was observing them as Clay shook Romero's hand, Jackie pacing behind his back. The lion cub was impatient for action, every day he was all springs in legs for doing the things differently from his step-father.
Not even ten minutes in, the sound of the car. A Chevy Malibu, the color of cherries, swerved on the dirt road, finally making it into the lot.
Jackson's head snapped towards him as his arms fell down from his chest. He couldn't believe it. Chibs showed his teeth. They all, CIA included, watched the small frame of this girl leaving her car, her hand snapping the door closed. The sunglasses, the jeans from morning, Chibs couldn't believe any of it. He grabbed Bobby by the collar, like he was to blame for it. But Bobby understood. He tapped on his fist, and Chibs pushed against him, giving himself a start.
"I'll deal with it", he rumbled, passing Jax by. She was walking towards them, her hand waving like she was joining a party. Chibs clocked the gun in the holster, and a pretty addition: knife in a thigh rig. He didn't give her time to say anything, simply grabbed her by the neck, his hand snaking in a flash towards her gun. June tried for the knife, but he was quicker again, still holding her almost above the ground. Having her unweaponed, he then took her by the shoulder and dragged.
"All good", he waved at the party, "continue".
"Isn't that Pallum?" Romero asked. Clay gave the pair a tired look.
"Yeah, sticking her nose into the littlest of our daily business".
Romero frowned.
"We did warn her against showing up. It's the conflict of agencies. She is aware of what we're doing here".
Jackson nodded.
"We're starting to think she's rabid".
Chibs dragged her into the warehouse, only a little resistance on the way. Her hands clenched on his forearm, nails digging into the brown leather of his jacket. He pushed her in the back, then took out her knife from his harness where he'd put it.
"How's your nose, sweetheart?"
She found balance again and looked around.
"Hurts a little. Why?"
"Wanna more? Move", he ordered.
June started walking into the depth of the warehouse. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to put her here, where all the fucking guns were. But she wasn't supposed to be here to begin with.
"What exactly is your problem?" he asked, pointing her knife at her. "To the wall. Walk over to the bar".
June was walking, her back forward, looking at her weapon in his hand.
"Do you even know how to use this thing?" he nudged her. "A good trailing blade. Might hurt yourself".
"Give it back to me and I'll show you", she promised. Chibs shook his head. He removed a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and shook them at her. As he approached, she kicked him, but not too successfully. It's like she wasn't even trying. Chibs pushed her legs with his knee, knife at her throat, and hit her in the shoulder to slow down. After a little struggle, one handcuff was in place around her wrist, and he had to put away the knife, because obviously it wasn't working on her. She got cut a little just below her ear and didn't feel it. Tugging on her left braid, he jerked her head to disorient her. He didn't like the way her hair felt in his palm. Silky, slender. He clicked the second handcuff on the bar, screwed into the wall, and stepped away at once not to get kicked again. He valued his balls very much.
"What is even your point here?" he asked, genuinely curious, "Coming alone to the drop where you know CIA will be. You got nothin' else to do?"
She was panting, fidgeting with the cuffs, looking just a little wild. Her eyes were rolling.
"The point is", she said through her teeth, "being as infuriating as possible".
Chibs turned away to join the others. He needed just about five minutes without her, to think what to do. When she spat into his back:
"Especially to fucking imbeciles like you".
Sometimes the scars on his cheeks felt like whiskers. They tugged his lips when he didn't want to smile. But guess that was the point of the Glasgow Smile. He mustered his patience to look at her again. She was tugging at the cuffs, as if measuring them. Her fingers working at the metal screws.
"You got no life. No family, you pathetic bitch. And your hobby is - this?"
"You have no idea the things I have for you and your miserable, cretinous crooks for friends. Is that what you call a family?" she pronounced slowly, showing him her teeth. Chibs couldn't look away from what she was doing with her hands.
"A bunch of low-life, vomit inducing drunks, kicking their girlfriends in their uteruses, dusty, greasy, big road cowboy imitating taints", as she was spitting the insults, it was like she was growing. Chibs was paralyzed by this absurd sight, the hatred that was enlarging like a ball of fire. She fixated her hand against the bar and pulled on her thumb. Gritting her teeth, she cracked it. Chibs' lower jaw started producing the sour saliva of pain because watching it was like watching a gory movie. Her braids swinging against her shoulders as she pressed her eyes closed for a second, taking in what must be severe, sharp shock of ache.
"Feral bitch", he uttered under his breath. His limbs were frozen. June was moving in slow motion, the feelings he was getting were particularly indescribable. All the while she darted for the gun he so carelessly dropped onto the box five steps away. Before he could do anything, even close his mouth, she pointed the gun and him and started shooting.
Bang, bang, bang, thankfully his body was used to this sound. He ducked and squatted, hiding himself behind a box of ammo. June walked the straight line, unloading a magazine into the box. He had to act, or she'd kill him here, he wouldn't be able to take the humiliation. Crawling around the box, he circled her and grabbed a handful of sand and hay. He waited until he saw her legs and kicked her, sending the hay into her face. They clashed, and jumped out again. There were the gunshots from the outside, again. Heard from all directions. Screams, the sound of screeching wheels. Perhaps someone else heard about their big discounts and trouble with selling the guns. Maybe June herself let the Niners know. He heard her moan lightly, like a kitten: she located the thumb back into place. Things started gathering into the picture for him. The walls crackled and groaned with the bullets flying through. The echo of wooden bars and metal boxes made it into cacophony.
Suddenly she was at his side, again. Chibs reached for the gun, but June pulled herself on top of him, they both trying to be closer to the ground. She felt him up, searching for her trailing knife. Chibs held the barrel of his gun against her ribs, but she probably barely felt it. Her face was disfigured from some hidden emotion that he couldn't place. The blade flashed in the light from the ceiling, so quickly, that he didn't even blink. Then it slid against his cheek, just above his old scar.
"That's for my nose". He could barely hear her voice in the loud banging. Then she stood up completely and started off.
"They're shooting, June!" he screamed. She was already at the door, simply lucky not to get snagged. She looked back at him before leaving the warehouse.
Chibs was left sitting there, the cut pulsating, hand holding the gun, dick hard.
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The sheer audacity of Ava Kris Tyson
The sheer selfishness. Stupidity. Entitled. The Wtf factor.
They're are 2 huge takeaway from this situation that I'll address and be as fair as possible.
1. The underage/pedophile situation
Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical. Underage texting should not be tolerated and the worst thing is that them deleted all tweets that could "be used against them". Is genuinely disturbing, that they were able to get away with this for THAT LONG
And it's clear the the legal system is not going their jobs of oh my goodness it was all public information, and yet it took about 5-10 years of them being around people the same age/younger for people to know.
I was and still am a fan of Mr Beast, because he has done NOTHING WRONG. He was not the one texting minor, engaging with them, so on and so on. Mr. Beast is an INCREDIBLE person and should not be dragged down by the mistake of another even if they're friends/co-worker.
But I can assure you that the trust that he and many other must have had in Ava Kris Tyson is gone.
Obviously theirs a clear difference between liking post and doing the messaging/interacting and they've done both.
It's an upset to the fans, his younger audience, ALL participants, Mr Beast crew, Mr Beast himself and his (now ex) wife as well as their CHILD
This should be yet another testament to the fact that both minors/people of the Internet are not being well protected by the social media platform they're using and it shows. It also shows the lack of actual action from.. Oh ya know... THE FUCKING POLICE, like in the UK (where I'm from) if they know about something, even just a little bit, you're on a list. No questions asked. They'll come to your home, take your information and you may be on a list until they catch the person.
I don't know what the policing is like in America but it doesn't look good.
Overall. Bad situation.
2. Transgender rights.
In the words of many (and accurately) they just set the community back 10 years. They're JK Rowling's wet dream. They're every conservative example A argument when it comes to trans rights. The absolute SELFISHNESS of this individual is jaw-dropping.
They've now set the president of "trans people could be pedophile" in the worst way possible. And what makes it worse is that the media tends to use key identificating factors, such as "black individual" or "British person".
So on every headline about Ava Kris Tyson it will all point finger to transgendered people. Sparking more debates about there rights.
I am fearfully for the Americans because Trumps presidential landslide is going to come due to recent situations and I will not be surprised if you use this as example a b c d e f n g as to why transgender people shouldn't have right. Why LGBTQIA+ people are criminals.
It's horrible. Humiliating.
And to be clear you can be upset about BOTH THINGS
A person being upset about the damage to transgendered rights is not saying that pedophile is good, because that's a whole new sentence. A whole new thing. A whole new post. A whole new argument.
But to conclude. Don't message or ask for nudes online EVER especially if you don't know the person. And do not let the actions of another take you down.
Edit: grammar/spelling (hopefully fixed lol) plus now fuck Mr. Beast, my guy just doomed all the charities he's helped.
#Yes I put Ava Kris Tyson because I'm not they're Internet stalker and don't know whether kris is they're new name (like changing Chris to#+to kris) or if ava is they're new name because some people will just make a child's first name they're middle/last name#+like naming someone Samuel Samuels#And I used they/them pronounce because also I'm not an internet stalker and won't want to misgender someone#+so being neutral seem like the best option#Ava Kris Tyson#ava tyson#kris tyson#trigger warning#Trigger warning cp#tw cp mention#tw pedophila mention#mr beast#transgender#trans#trans people#trans rights
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wip tag game
you are given a word - share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of that word!
Tagged by @fifthstiel with the word YEAR - Thank you so much! And it's WIP Wednesday so what a lovely day to try this out - I tried to use a different WIP for each letter so let's do this
Y: (from my enemies to lovers holidays AU how bad could it be)
"You, on the other hand, have been unprofessional, and you probably think it's hip -"
"Hrngk, don't say hip.”
"- you probably think it's hip. Swaggering in -”
"I don't swagger."
"-swaggering into the room with that devil-may-care attitude, unprepared and untimely, but of course you have to show off these flashy outfits and this carefully arranged hair, but in fact -"
"Why do you care about my hair?"
"-but in fact it's arrogant and it made the committee look ridiculous! In front of the president of the university!"
"I embarrassed the committee? Maybe you shouldn't have tried to distract them with your magic tricks!"
E: (from my lighthouse fic, which finally has a name: tomb by the sounding sea)
Every lighthouse needs a keeper, he was told.
But Aziraphale felt that in so many ways it was the other way round. As the boat approached the rugged little island, Aziraphale couldn't take his eyes off what would be his future home. His last home, he hoped. The lighthouse stood tall and stubborn among the rocky cliffs, oblivious to the roaring surf at its feet, single-mindedly determined to keep everyone and everything away. There was little that this proud and timeless building could need from a small human being.
But he needed it. Aziraphale needed the lighthouse to keep him safe and hidden from the world. He didn't mind dedicating the rest of his life to keeping the lighthouse company, caring for it, and never speaking to another human soul again, if it meant he could borrow from its strength, if it meant he could find his will to carry on.
A: from my through-the-ages fic, in which Crowley and Aziraphale pretend to be human for a night - I need your love (and something human)
Aziraphale felt the familiar change in the atmosphere, as the candle shone a little brighter and the sounds faded to a murmur in the background, everything felt a little warmer. He didn't dare look up.
"It's you," he whispered.
"Yes, of course it's me. What else did you expect?" With a graceful sweep of his black tunic, Crowley settled dowm across from him on a chair that certainly hadn't been there before.
Aziraphale was utterly unequal to this encounter, ruefully unprepared to see Crowley's face again. Would there be disgust carved into the marble of his delicate features? Or would it be barely disguised hope, perhaps affection, as it had been on that sorrowful day? Aziraphale didn't know what he feared more.
And yet his stupid, stupid heart was ahead of him, beating a hopeful gallop straight down the path of falling back into the comfort of provided by a pleasant company.
"I don't know. An aardvark, perhaps?" Slowly he lifted his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
R: from my demon!Aziraphale fic I put a spell on you
Real satisfaction, peace or even contentment were out of the question. There were ghosts of these ideas that came closer, more opaque, more contoured, almost so vivid that you wanted to reach out and touch them - only to have these illusion dissolve in mist and coldness.
Aziraphale had come unbearingly close to catching the ghost of true happiness.
Real and solid, tingling electrically beneath his skin.
His arm around Crowley's shoulder. Crowley's nose buried in his neck, legs wrapped around his, breath getting slower and slower as Crowley was on the brink to fall asleep. A previously unknown calm had calmed Aziraphale's heartbeat and for once, all he had at the moment was enough.
Almost.
-----
No pressure tagging: @afrenchwriter @andromeda4004 @captainblou @foolishlovers @tonydaddingham @waitingtobebroken with the word LOVE
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Out of curiosity: why do you think Philip hates Alex specifically? (cakegate aside) Do you think he'd just be okay with Henry dating some upper-class English guy?
Why I think he hates Alex
He has no been kind to him once in the book. Also Alex ruined his wedding cake. Not a great first impression.
I don’t think there’s more to it tbh. Alex hasn’t been kind to him either, and Philip sees Alex being so “open” with the public, having fun with it, his public persona completely different to their (Philip, Bea, and Henry’s) public persona, and just being the compete opposite to what monarchy considers proper, so he doesn’t like him, let alone want him dating Henry.
Answering your second question,
I think it’s not based on Alex not being an upper-class English guy, but more based on how Alex is as a person, as in his personality. And also the fact than he’s the son of the president of the states.
“I don’t care if you’re gay,” Philip says, dropping that big fat if like Henry hasn’t already specifically told him. “I care that you’ve made this choice, with him”—he cuts his eyes sharply to Alex as if he finally exists in the same room as this conversation—“someone with a fucking target on his back, to be so stupid and naive and selfish as to think it wouldn’t completely fuck us all.”
Alex is, since the start of the book, very different to Henry. Interests and family aside, Alex kind of enjoys being in the public eye. At least at the start of the book. He likes being in front of a crowd, make them scream. Is true than Alex is probably the most private one out of the White House trio, but just because he doesn’t share his private life to the public, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get along with them. One of the first scenes of him we have is him talking about how he and Nora like creating rumours and being in magazines and all.
I have a point I swear, just wait.
Monarchy (Philip, Henry, Bea), is the complete opposite to this. They stay out of directly interacting with the public, they don’t have fun with it like Alex does. Not because is a personal choice (which that too) but because they can’t, because they have a reputation to uphold. And isn’t everything about monarchy based on reputation?
Alex, Nora, and June, also have reputations, but theirs are handmade, you could say, while Philip, Henry, and Bea’s and premade, they had no choice on them, they are just something they have to do, something the have to look like.
Alex, Nora and June chose their own reputations, they decided how they wanted people to see them. They had control over that.
All three of them—himself, June, and Nora—have their roles.
Nora is the cool brainy one, the one who makes inappropriate jokes on Twitter about whatever sci-fi show everyone’s watching, a bar trivia team ringer.
He looks at June—ahead of him now, caramel highlights in her swinging ponytail catching the midday sun—and he knows her place too. The intrepid Washington Post columnist, the fashion trendsetter everyone wants to have at their wine-and-cheese night.
But Alex is the golden boy. The heartthrob, the handsome rogue with a heart of gold. The guy who moves through life effortlessly, who makes everyone laugh. Highest approval ratings of the entire First Family. The whole point of him is that his appeal is as universal as possible.
For example Alex is not his public personal (aside from heart of gold). That’s something he created. The whole point of him is than his appeal is as universal as possible.
Stopping myself here because if I don’t I’ll go on yet another rant about Alex (I love my boy so much).
But basically in the book there’s a deep contrast between Alex’s family and Henry’s family, one is warm the other is cold. Alex has, and has always had, a choice. Sure, being on the public eye was not something he chose, it just happened because his mother wanted to be president, but he could choose everything else. His public persona, his decisions, who to date and who to not date. They didn’t even stop him from dating Henry. Just told him than he has to know what he wanted, to choose. But they didn’t stop him.
Henry is the opposite. He can’t choose how to present himself, how the world sees him. He can’t even wear ties with patterns.
Patterns are considered a “statement.” Royals aren’t supposed to make statements with what we wear.
They aren’t supposed to make statements.
The Royal Family are, as a rule, expected to stay out of politics, and refrain from giving their personal opinion on certain topics, so as to remain impartial.
Dating Alex, son of a political leader, is a statement. Is saying “I support this and I do not support that”.
And, Alex wants to be involved in politics, he talks about how he wants to make a change, how he genuinely cares, and the fastest way to make a change is making it while being on positions of power, somewhere people can hear you.
Alex’s whole reason for wanting to go into politics, when he knows so many past presidential sons and daughters have run away screaming the minute they turned eighteen, is he genuinely cares about people.
He has a very visible political position. People know what he supports and what he doesn’t, what he wants to do and what he doesn’t. And since he likes being on positions of power, because that gives him the possibly to make a change (even if at the end the change he did was unrelated to politics but about who he was as a person), he doesn’t get out of it. He continues being on it, he doesn’t mind attention on him, as long as they see what he wants them to see.
Philip sees Alex always on the public eye for one reason or another, a photo shoot, a new rumour, etc, and sees how his public persona is different to theirs, “wilder”, not so formal.
And, conservatives hate Alex. He is everything they stand against, even before knowing he was bi. He’s a grandchild of immigrants, he’s mixed race, he’s brown, he’s outspoken about his views (which are opposite to theirs), he’s the son of the first president who’s a woman, and who is also a democrat, he comes from a mixed race family, etc etc. Monarchy is supposed to be neutral. Alex is the opposite from neutral.
Philip’s main problem with Henry being gay is than he wanted to come out. Henry’s gay? Ok but he can’t come out. And that’s not based on homophobia (no matter if it sounds like it), is deeper, Henry coming out would challenge everything. First, he wouldn’t be neutral anymore. Monarchy is built upon manipulation upon privilege upon capitalism, etc. Henry coming out would threaten everything, all the rules, all the stuff would have to change, people would be asking why he didn’t come out before, and if Henry said the truth, their reputation would be dammed. And many many people would stop liking them. Some would not like them for being homophobic, other wouldn’t like them because Henry is gay. People from both sides would be against them. Their reputation (as mentioned as repeatedly through the book as repeatedly as I’m mentioning it now) is something that must be perfect. They can’t make statements, they’re perfect, formal, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. If Henry is gay and people know, it no longer affects him, but all of them.
And many people see queerness and something political. Again, Henry wouldn’t be neutral.
I think than if Henry married a woman (hopefully a beard, someone who knows he’s gay and doesn’t care to cover for him) and had affairs with men, and Philip knew (than he was gay), he wouldn’t mind. He did what he had to do. Henry’s reputation is good, their reputation is good, they’ll continue the bloodline, etc. Because Philip, like Henry, was taught to leave their wants aside, and focus more on monarchy and what’s good for it.
The thing with Philip is, he isn’t evil. And many seem to forget that. He did bad things, and I’m holding him accountable for them, but at the end of the day, he was just brainwashed by Mary, specially after Arthur’s death. He was vulnerable after his father died, his mother wasn’t there mentally, he felt like he had to step up, be the “man of the house”, and he clung to his grandmother (the only adult in his immediate family who was physically and mentally there for him), and Mary took this opportunity to make him into the version of him monarchy wanted him to be (rule follower, defends their reputation no matter what, cares more about monarchy and what people think of them than what he wants to do.), which is just what Mary tried to make Henry to be too.
But he was on about Martha, and land holdings, and the hypothetical heirs they have to start working on, even though Philip hates children, and suddenly it was as if . . . as if everything you said last night came back to me. I thought, God, that’s it, isn’t it? Just following the plan. And it’s not that he’s unhappy. He’s fine. It’s all very deeply fine. A whole lifetime of fine.”
She probably tried with Bea, but Bea saw the manipulation right away and it didn’t work, or she didn’t get to try because with Arthur alive, that man would have never let her do that to his children, and with Arthur gone, Bea was like Catherine, mentally somewhere else. After rehab, she was still mourning, but she had Henry, she didn’t need her like Philip did. Because I think Henry and Bea were closer than Philip and Henry/Bea even before Arthur died, after it and Mary’s manipulation, they just drifted more apart.
If Casey wanted us to believe Philip was bad he would have made him be bad until the end, made him not change. Philip did change. Henry is even trying to make amends with him. Maybe he hasn’t fully forgiven him, which makes absolute sense and just because Philip was a victim it doesn’t he mean he was a victim inside their relationship, than he couldn’t continue the cycle of abuse. But Philip realized the cycle of abuse, realized he was continuing all this time. And tried to stop. That’s growth. Maybe not forgivable, not after everything, but he’s trying.
Philip came to Kensington two weeks ago to apologize to both Henry and Bea for the years since their father’s death, the harsh words, the domineeringness, the intense scrutiny. For basically growing from an uptight people- pleaser into an abusive, self-righteous twat under the pressure of his position and the manipulation of the queen. “He’s fallen out with Gran,” Henry had told Alex over the phone. “That’s the only reason I actually believe anything he says.”
Mary isn’t trying, Mary didn’t decide to support Henry at the end, didn’t try to do better. No one forgives her, and we are not supposed to see than she’s trying to be better, because she isn’t. “Isn’t Mary also a victim of this cycle of abuse, wasn’t she like Philip, brainwashed by her own parents probably (and her parents by their parents and so on), and continued the cycle?” Yes, but she doesn’t actively try to be better, doesn’t realize that, doesn’t even feel bad about it, different to Philip.
Answering again with shorter answers.
Why does Philip hate Alex specifically?
Because Alex is the whole opposite to what they stand for, he’s a walking statement, and he’s so himself, different to monarchy with their perfect flawless formal public personas.
Would Philip be fine with Henry dating some upper-class English guy (before coming out and everything than happened after he did)?
As long as he kept it secret, Henry could date whoever he wanted as long as he didn’t want to make it public, as long as he planned on marrying a woman and following his duty, as long as that someone was responsible, and didn’t have a “target on his back”, and Philip says Alex has.
Again, holding Philip accountable for everything he did, just explaining the reason why he did it.
Does this make sense? Because in my head it does but I don’t know if it does when I write it down
#I definitely repeated myself somewhere but well#you all must think I LOVE Philip but I don’t#im just the only one on this fandom who gets his character apparently#and everyone asks me to talk about my thoughts on him#so I just post fulls analysis each time#really why does everyone always asks#I don’t mind just curious#his whole character seems pretty obvious to me#again NOT a Philip apologist#he did lots of shit and deserves consequences#I just see WHY he did it#rwrb#casey mcquiston#red white and royal blue#firstprince#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#red white & royal blue#philip fox mountchristen windsor
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overwhelming day today here's the debrief
I have two humongous final projects both worth half my grade due on Wednesday and im losing my mind AND I HAVE A PAPER DUE TOMORROW MORNING AT 8AM AND I HAV.E AMIDTERM TOMORROW AT 3.30Pn, my groups suck for both projects and THEY JUST
MY GOD
I DONT MIND DOING ALL THW WORK EXCEPT IM GENUINELY SO FUCKIN TIRED OF DOING ALL THE FUCKIN WORK ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND IM SO SICK OF IT AND IM SO FUCKIN SICK OF IT IM SO FUCIN TIRED OF DOING THIS ALL THE FUCKIN TIME
and I just
I have this friend who im kinda close too but she's curt with me sometimes and we are kinda rude to each other as a joke but she just
she's rude to me sometimes on purpose and I dont know why and I just feel like she hates me and won't tell me why and I JUST I do love her and it bothers me ig and Ive had alot of issues with this friend and every time I try to solve anything
yeah
and I am having a huge body image attack which isn't that deep but whatever and my brother wlel
he's got every mental illness on the planet and makes my life a living hell I get being mentally ill makes life difficult for you but YOU CANNOT EXPECT ME TO SEE THEM AS MORE THAN EXPLANATIONS FOR YOUR BEHAVIOUR RATHER THAN A FUCKIN EXCUSE?? IM NOT EXCUSING YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT ME T
pk
okay and then
today was another friends birthday and she was so
we made a whole birthday surprise thing for her and I went to alot of effort to do it and she just I invited her boyfriend and one of her other friend and she sprent the whole time talking to them and making it awkward for everyone else and I
she was like send pictures? and it just bothered me cuz she went out of her way to make it look like she hated them and if thats so then ill just not invite her to things??? cuz wth I do like my friends and this is really fuckin inconsiderate and we had karaoke but there was an issue with the mic and she was just
being really weird about ti and I felt kinda disrespected and she really doesnt fuckin care
and im so sick of this and
its like she just tolerates them for pictures and it was weird and idk
maybe I dont like her as much as I thought and maybe im the problem cuz I really tried to make it special for her and she just
she was just not having it and I tried so hard and I wish I didnt cuz I felt so stupid for caring about mics cuz when she left the rest of us were singing nd it wasn't awkward and clean up was fun even
and the thing with happened with the friend that was curt with me earlier she just we found out a guy we knew was spreading rumors about her sexuality ( his friend group did this to me first) so I asked her about it and she said yea that guy confessed to her and she told him she didnt like him like that but also that her and my other friend fought cuz this guy was being weird and I was BUSY BABYSITITNG MY FUCKIN GROUP AT THE TIME AND WE COULDNT PROPERLY TALK ABOUT IT so I called her when I got home and she got so weird and defensive about it like I was crazy and I just
I hate when she does this and I hate that I care about her more than she cares about me
in fact I know this is toxic as fuck and caring isnt measured on scales
bUT I HAVE THIS PROBLEM
I DO
I CARE TOO FUCKIN MUCH AND I WISH I COULD STOP AND I WISH I COULD EAT MY BRAIN UP CUZ IM SO SICK OF CARING OHMYGOD I WISH I COULD JSUT END MY FUC
OH AND
IM DOING 2 MURALS RIGHT
BUT MY IPAD CRASH LEFT ONE OHUGE FUCKIN MURAL GONE FOREVER
AND I DONT HAVE THE 720CM VERSION OF IT AND I HAVENT TOLD THEM YET AND
AND I HATE MY ART AND
I am president of a club and WE GOT OUR FUCKIN BUDGET REJECTED SO IM OUT A BUNCH OF MONEY FOR NO REASON AND IM SO SICK
I need a break
I need a break
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