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schoenpepper · 3 months ago

Text

Teeth (5 Seconds of Summer)

Intro: It's nothing but a modern rendition of Romeo and Juliet to you. But Jade will twist the narrative into Bonnie and Clyde, if it means he'll get his hands on the one he loves.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread it's too long for me to give a fuck, blood, gore-ish, death (minor charac), bad bad things, criminals, Jade and Floyd are warnings of their own, implied shmexy times, 100% inaccurate interpol description but it was that or the Red Room from marvels idk maybe the kingsman, the fish mafia are verrrrry bad people here ok, but reader doesnt care, betrayal

A/N: Did I fall in love with Jade halfway into writing this? Of course not. I fell in love with Jade a whileeeee ago. Anyway, this is the first installment of my Twisted Harmonies series, a bunch of songfics with different characters and plots and universes.

Masterlist

Some days you're the only thing I know

Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold

Can't look away, can't look away

Beg you to stay, beg you to stay, yeah

Aren't you just a darling little thing?

Jade isn't Azul's right hand man for nothing; he sees through your facade all too easily. A little too naive for the sexy outfit you're wearing and a little too innocent for the foxy persona you've put up. The police force had sent lots of undercover agents before. Unfortunately for them, none had been as interesting as you.

He watches you stumble onto the seat next to him. You order a drink and meet his eyes, giving him a charming smile.

Ah.

He understands now.

You weren't sent as a mistake. You were sent because even your superiors saw an overflowing charisma that you yourself didn't seem to notice. They were likely betting on him being drawn to you (and you having better acting skills). They've underestimated him again.

Jade thinks he's too far gone to be a gentleman now, but he chuckles and offers to pay for your pina colada. You accept with a glint in your pretty eyes, and he congratulates himself for picking up a cute little plaything for the next few months. He hears out the alias you have and listens to your cover story with a close-lipped smile. When he leads the conversation to other places, he takes note of when you perk up and start shaking off the person you were forced to be in order to get closer to him. "You like that movie too? That's awesome! I thought I was the only person who knew what it was."

"It's definitely one of my favorite films, but it's not too popular, hm?"

"Right." You pout and huff so adorably, he might just take you where you're sat. He doesn't think you're supposed to like the things you're saying you like, but he enjoys seeing you mess up, if nothing else. "You know," Jade takes a sip of his martini, "I have a copy of it on DVD, if you'd like to come to my place and watch it. Maybe stay for the night...maybe have breakfast in the morning...?" He sees you light up and you seem to finally remember your mission, pushing down the bubbly and energetic rookie and projecting out an image of this mature and seductive force of nature.

It's just too funny.

He drives you to his small villa at the edge of town and he pops the CD into the DVD player. He wasn't lying when he said he liked the movie, and he enjoys hearing your commentary on it because it brings him new insights about the plot as well as you. After the movie, he takes you to his bedroom (like a gentleman 💙) and even cooks you breakfast in the morning. Muffins and scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. A part of his attention is on you as you eat breakfast blearily, but most of it is in the file he has on hand while drinking his morning coffee.

[Name: Y/N L/N]

[Status: Recent graduate of the X police academy, honor student]

[Threat level: Unknown]

Jade picks up his pen, looks on as you burn your tongue on your coffee, and jots down a note.

[Threat level: Unknown (near zero, requires further investigation)]

Sometimes you're a stranger in my bed

Don't know if you love me, or you want me dead

Push me away, push me away

Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay, yeah

The second time you meet up with your target is on a "date". You'd spent hours in front of the mirror just to look your most "seductive", yet Jade barely even bats an eye. He picks you up from the apartment you were assigned in his swanky, expensive, customized Rolls Royce and drives you both to this upscale 3 Michelin star restaurant in the middle of the city. You feel slightly uncomfortable because of all the haughty uppity-ness of the people in the other tables, but Jade's gloved hand is placed on the small of your back as he walks with you to the table he'd reserved. "Sorry, I'm not too used to places like these." You smile awkwardly at Jade.

And berate yourself internally because you're supposed to be mature and experienced and whatever.

"Nonsense dear, we're not here to keep up appearances." Thankfully, he's always a very nice person (if you ignore him being one of the leaders of possibly the biggest organized crime group in the world). He even pulls your chair out for you and everything. "I just wish for you to have an enjoyable time. Now tell me about the types of dishes you like, and perhaps any allergies?"

"Oh, I don't have any allergies. But I like chicken, and mushrooms!" You grin at him happily.

He pauses at your words, which makes you think that maybe you said something wrong, causing you to bow your head and stare at the French squiggles you just can't understand on the menu you're holding.

"I like mushrooms too."

The smile he gives you is all too blinding. You've always known he was rather pretty, but seeing him smile like this makes you aware of his insane face card. Him liking mushrooms wasn't on the file (even the international police force doesn't have much on the Leech brothers' files, much less Ashengrotto's), but you're glad you have something else to talk to him about.

"I even grow them myself."

Your jaw drops and you have to stop yourself from barreling over the table and onto him as words just start pouring out of your mouth. "Seriously? That's so cool! Where do you grow them? Did you learn by yourself? Can you teach me? Do you think I can grow some too? Oh, wait!" You clear your throat and lean back on your chair. You're blowing your cover again, you just know it. "I mean, that sounds cool. Apologies for rambling."

Jade laughs and waves you off.

"No, I like that you're so passionate. You've been to my home before, perhaps you'd enjoy going back after dinner? I'll show you my terrariums."

"Awesome!"

You'll remember to keep up your disguise later.

Your waiter comes by with recommendations and wine, and your date is too sweet with how he constantly asks for your opinion. When you show any form of hesitance, he easily helps you out whether it be with ordering your entree or asking for another plate. Conversation flows too naturally with the teal-haired man and dinner leads to checking his terrariums, to staying up too late drinking sips of his stash of red wine while he helps you make a terrarium of your own, to passing out on his bed next to him.

When you wake up the next day, you realize you forgot to probe for information.

Oh well.

You can always see Jade next time.

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

Everyday, you get more and more delectable.

"Whatcha' watchin', Jade?" Floyd leans over his shoulder to peer at the monitor in front of him. On the screen is you, oh lovely, beautiful, adorable you, in a skin tight suit made of a fabric that clings to your every curve so wonderfully. You do a turn to evade your opponent and land a kick on their abdomen. "Eh? Who's this spiky little pufferfish? New toy o' yours?"

"Not a toy." Even Jade is surprised by the words that leave his lips, but it curls into a sickeningly sweet smile as he continues. "They're cute, aren't they? Feisty."

You send the other person to the edge of the ring with a punch.

"What, so you'll keep 'em?"

When your opponent rushes back to you, you do a series of beautiful and swift movements to bring them down on their knees. Admittedly, the smallest part of him is rather jealous by the way you step on the person's chest to keep them down.

"Absolutely. They'll make a cute pet~"

"Hah, you're so weird." Floyd rolls his eyes and stands back up properly. "The Interpol'll notice your cameras soon, y'know they're not that stupid to keep their own training grounds unchecked."

"That's why I'm recording, of course."

"Freak."

"You wound me, truly."

For what he'd said about keeping you as a pet, he gets annoyingly ticked off at the sight of you helping up your comrade slash sparring partner. The way you laugh so unrestrainedly and smile so freely, in ways you refuse to do in front of him—your mission target—made him narrow his eyes and memorize the face of that friend of yours. Perhaps the frustration bubbling in his chest was only because his pet was rather uncooperative at the moment, still stubbornly holding onto the shredded pieces of your shoddy disguise. With that, he has no chance of seeing your many facets in the way you'd present them to a friend, to someone closer; because he dislikes that alias very much.

(He'll pull the Y/N L/N out of you sooner than later.)

"Whatever, just make sure to clean up or Azul's gonna be pissed."

"Of course."

He watches your figure leave the training ground and the camera's range.

Jade is a capable man who enjoys games.

And what game would be more fun than turning a police dog against its owners?

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"And, open your eyes!"

You fidget with your hands nervously, trying to hide your anxiousness with a proud grin. You glance at the spread you'd poured your time and effort into; a typical red plaid blanket splayed out over the grass under the shade of a large tree, a wicker basket with its contents already laid out on the blanket. Finger sandwiches and little jars of pasta and lemon iced tea and tiny cake slices in glass tupperwares. You look back at Jade who you'd asked to dress more casually today for your (you can't really count anymore at this point) date, wondering if he dislikes your little surprise.

"Um, I know it seems sudden, but I made it all myself." You blush and kneel down on the blanket to grab the utensils. "Because, the button mushrooms you helped me grow, they grew really nice and big so I chopped them up and put them into a bolognese, so I thought maybe you'd like to try my cooking!" You feel so embarrassed because why is Jade still so quiet holy shit, though the shame fades when he tugs you into his arms.

"Jade...?"

"Apologies." He pulls away slightly to kiss your forehead. "I am very touched by the thought. I appreciate your effort, my dear, and I look forward to tasting your cooking."

You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

It had felt like a chore the first few weeks, but touching him, kissing him, loving him is starting to feel good. Natural. Right.

It's not. But it feels right.

"You better, I was up from four a.m., you know?" You let out a grumble when he hums so happily, swaying you in his arms. "So next date, you owe me your cooking too."

"Of course, my dear."

"With no poisonous mushrooms?"

"I don't recall agreeing to that condition."

It's so peaceful when he gives you his commentary on your dishes and gives you advice regarding the iced tea you'd made, and there's such a lovely calmness when you take a nap with him after eating, curled up into each other under the shade, your head on his chest and his legs around your own. Everything else fades away when he helps you pack up your jars and tupperwares into your wicker basket and drives you home.

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles with a close-eyed smile.

"Goodbye, my dear. Think of me always."

You close the door in his face so he doesn't see the blush on yours.

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

There's filth in the room, he can feel it with every pair of eyes that is shamelessly drinking in the sight of you. A polite curve to the lips, arm wrapped securely around you, he walks into the gala with the feeling of his favorite handgun digging into his thigh. He expects the night to go flawlessly; Azul would never throw an event that would end up in shambles, and your little organization is far too wary of this party being a trap to actually make a move. It doesn't change the bitter taste lingering in the back of his throat when these greasy middle-aged folks that Azul coined as "business partners" stared at you with their tongues lolling out like mutts sniffing a new treat.

Say, would his boss mind if he committed a little bit of homicide?

"Jade?"

Ah, but you look so sweet, looking up at him nervously. You must recognize the ugly faces, yes? Each and every one in the interconnected web of hell that Azul ruled over. "Don't worry darling, they're all friendly." Jade smiles, a genuine one, sweeping a glance over the crowd. "I'll make sure of it for you."

You seem comforted enough by his words, yet you still slink away into his side.

(Don't you know he's one of the most dangerous people here?)

"Azul, Floyd, this is my darling." He feels you freeze up when he introduces you to his brother and friend boss. His fingers run up and down your back in a soothing motion as he watches gears turn in the two's heads. "My love, this is Azul Ashengrotto. He's my superior of sorts. And this is Floyd, my twin brother."

The word 'love' has their eyes widen for just a split second.

Azul reaches out a hand to shake yours. "My, it's a pleasure to meet you. Jade has told us a lot about you." You smile nervously and shake his hand. Before his brother can full on tackle you and likely interrogate you about your relationship status, Jade gently pushes you off to the crowd with a nasty glare behind your back towards the piranhas circling.

"Do socialize for a bit, dear. I have a few things I need to talk about with them." He doesn't mention the bodyguards he'd gestured to keep an eye on you.

"So," Azul crosses his arms, "love, hm?"

Jade lets the polite smile fade from his face as he looks at them, one gloved hand on his chest. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"You said pet!" Floyd huffs, shaking Jade by the arms. "No fair! What's with the secrets, Jaaaaade? You were supposed to tell me everything! When did you get a partner?"

"I wasn't lying, I just started seeing them differently." He consoles his brother with a chuckle.

"And how are you planning to keep it up?"

"Pardon?"

"Yeah, that person's a noobie undercover, right? Ya' can't hold on to some lousy loyal cop." Floyd rolls his eyes. "Don't be silly Jade, that loyalty's no good if it ain't yours."

"I'm sure he's already thought of that."

"But he doesn't seem prepared to let 'em go, though? A pet's fine, but if it's somethin' else, it'll be trouble."

Jade smiles again. "Not a pet anymore, no, but it's not that hard to train a lover either, is it?"

"What, you truly think that cop will fall for you enough that they'll throw away their principles and ideals for you?" Azul scoffs. "Without torture?"

"You think they won't?"

Azul and Floyd share a look then shrug in unison.

"I don't think there's a lot you can't do, to be honest."

"I don't care, long as you get those annoying do-gooders outta my face, capiche?"

Some days you're the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don't know

And you push me away, push me away, yeah

It's boring.

God, it's so boring.

If you had known you would be subjecting yourself to petty small talk and the lecherous eyes of sleazy men twice, maybe three times your age, you would've clung on harder to Jade and forced yourself into whatever conversation he'd needed to have with Azul and Floyd. But then again, you don't think you have enough calm to face the Azul Ashengrotto without shaking in your boots (he's rich and evil and super duper powerful!). Floyd you can sort of handle, you do well with violence. Jade you slept with the night you met, so there wasn't all too much about him that still made you nervous. But Azul, that man's smart. You can't deal with wits like that—wits that gave him claws to dig his way out of whatever hellhole he was born in and right to the top of the food chain. He'll blow your cover all too easy.

You shift your champagne to the other hand and nod at your conversation partner.

No you don't get what he's bragging about, and you really don't care. This place is filled to the brim with the very wretches of society, faces you know from the red files you kept at headquarters. They parade around in human skins and even now, not a single person has said anything that even remotely implied ill-gotten wealth or human trafficking or whatever, so you know they're really good at keeping up face.

This one, he's getting a little too handsy.

"I can show you a good time."

You raise your hand to smash the champagne flute into his ugly face (Jade would definitely cover for you).

When did you get so confident?

Two big and bulky men in suits appear out of nowhere—they might be the asshole's bodyguards—but no, they restrain the other man and faster than you can blink, you're alone again with only the echoes of his shouting. You catch Jade's gaze on you from the corner of the room where he's still with Azul and Floyd.

His lips curl up in mischief and he winks.

Looks like your confidence wasn't misplaced, at least.

Call me in the morning to apologize

Every little lie gives me butterflies

Something in the way you're looking through my eyes

Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive

"Jade, baby, I think we're lost."

"Nonsense, my pearl. I've been here a million times."

"You should've taken the left at the exit!"

"No, this is a shortcut."

"Jade!"

"Yes, my lovely backseat driver?"

He watches from the corner of his eye as you hold onto your seatbelt for dear life. "Where are we going?! It's not in the map. I swear if you actually get us lost—"

"What will you do?"

You pout at him. "Cry."

"Don't be so dramatic my love, I told you, I've been there before." Jade muses, one hand on the wheel and the other gently patting your thigh. He takes another turn and chuckles. "See? Look at the GPS, we're back on track."

When the Range Rover comes to a stop near a familiar campsite (he was not taking the Rolls Royce into the woods, thank you very much), you immediately hop out of your seat and start to fiddle with the items you'd brought with you. He gets out to help you carry the foldable tent and set it up not too far from the car. "Jade, did you buy new sleeping bags? These weren't the ones we used when we went to the lake." He watches on happily as you figure out there's only one, two-person sleeping bag.

"Wow. Are you cutting corners or are you just that clingy?"

"Whatever do you mean, love?" Jade turns to take out the coats he'd brought along, forcing you into one of them as you whined about its puffiness. Unfortunately, he'd rather not have a frozen lover to roast over the bonfire with the marshmallows. He intertwines your hand with his as you walk side by side on the trail, and he talks to you about safety procedures when hiking ("Do try not to separate, dear.") and protocols ("If you see a bear when I'm not around, say your last prayers." "What if you're around?" "I have a gun if it's really aggressive, don't worry about it." "Why do you have a gun, Jade?") and what kind of mushrooms would be safe to pick without gloves ("In general, if it's colorful, best leave it to me.").

He has such a great time hiking with his cute partner, even if you don't notice his camera taking snapshots every few minutes or so.

With a sack full of mushrooms and other flora, the both of you make your way back to the campsite. He starts on a fire while you set up the foldable chairs and prepare the ingredients for whatever would be dinner. He thinks it should be the mushrooms you had just gathered together, you think it should be something actually edible, and he relents if only because you compromise to add some non-poisonous mushrooms into a stew for dinner. The night ends with your intertwined bodies in the sleeping bag, Jade peppering kisses all over your face as you giggle and try to squirm out of your constraints (the sleeping bag and his arms).

"Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, Jade."

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"I know how to shoot a gun."

—Were the words that spiked your competitiveness with your boyfriend. It wasn't your fault, really, but when that frustratingly pretty face got that smug look that just seemed like it was doubting your abilities, you felt the need to prove yourself. You weren't the brightest bulb in the, ugh, in the string of Christmas lights around the pine tree? But! You prided yourself on your ability to fight. Whether that be with a gun or a knife or just with your bare fists, you'd slammed foes several times bigger and stronger than you to the ground by virtue of pure skill. So to hear Jade questioning one of your rare mastered skills (he would probably argue otherwise) made your blood boil.

So. Shooting range.

You know he's experienced with guns, but you're pretty sure a sniper rifle is new even for him. You help him assemble it and get into proper position.

"My, how scandalous, my darling instructor. In broad daylight too?"

You grimace at his words.

"I'm just trying to get you into the right position!"

"Oh? And what position would be to your preference?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I feel like I've asked you the same question before too—"

"Jade, there are people—"

"—Did you say missionary or—"

"Oh my fucking gods."

"—Perhaps you said you preferred riding?"

You glare harshly at your boyfriend who was giving you the sweetest smile you'd ever seen on his cute face (no doubt to spite you), and you look around frantically in search of other people. Thankfully you're alone. But it doesn't stop you from repeatedly (softly) hitting his shoulder while he laughed at your expressions, sharp teeth showing. You poke a finger to the corner of his lips, which he quickly nibbles on. "What are you, a dog?" He pulls away just to lean back in and kiss your lips.

"Arf~"

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Your phone rings in the dead of night. Jade groans and pats you awake to answer, and you console him with a kiss before looking at the contact.

It says 'That Guy'.

Jade murmurs out a question while you hurriedly leave the bed to put on a robe. "I just need to take this call, baby. I'll be right back." You answer the phone out of earshot, leaning against the railing of the balcony. A familiar voice travels through your phone and right to your heart. It stirs memories and realizations you're not quite ready to face again; the biting chill of the wind feels similar to the worry gnawing at you. "Agent L/N."

"...Reporting, sir."

It's still muscle memory, the response and the subconscious salute.

(Is it still muscle memory to defend yourself against Jade, the way you were taught to?)

"How is your mission?"

You bite back the urge to say 'What mission?'. Ahhh Y/N L/N you're just so stupid, aren't you? First ever mission, your first big responsibility, your first big chance to be someone worth something. You look back at the bedroom and catch a glimpse of Jade's shadow on the bed. You were supposed to worm out information but gods, you've never even tried. It's like every single time he's with you your brain starts to melt into a hot pink sludge. "I'm working on it, sir." You lie because there's nothing else you can do. Where can you run when Jade finds out you were only using him? Where can you run when the Interpol thinks of you as a dead man because they believe you've betrayed them?

Where can you go when everything comes crashing down?

"It's only to be expected, such a man should be awfully guarded even against his own. Keep up the good work and remember to report back when you find anything."

Hah. Jade was barely ever guarded against you, if at all. You could've tapped his electronics at any time or tracked every car he owns. You just...never did. And the realization forces you to redraw your lines. You know exactly where your loyalty lies, don't you? You end the call and look at the lights in the distance; the city is never asleep. It's bursting with neon signs and traffic lights, but the noise doesn't reach the safe haven that's Jade's little villa. Start to make plans. Rethink it all over. You walk back into the bedroom and further, to the guest room you'd never once used but has way too much of your things in. In a suitcase pocket that's invisible to the naked eye, you pick up a packet of tiny buttons.

You hope Jade won't miss you too much in bed when you make a trip to the garage.

Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

You're looking at me like you don't know who I am

Blood on my shirt, heart in my hand

Still beating

"Happy birthday, Jade!"

"Happy birthday, Floyd."

There's blood in the air, early morning in November. Jade looks up from his newspaper at his brother who was happily dragging a limp body into his pristine living room, sack over its head. "Oh dear, I hope you've called for cleanup. I have a date later today and I would rather not have Y/N turned off the moment I open the front door." He frowns slightly and puts the newspaper down. With careful steps, he approaches the unconscious person and yanks the sack off its face. "Is this your birthday present for me, brother?"

"Yep!"

"Well," Jade smirks, kicking the head awake. "I appreciate the effort."

"Make sure to pay me back, 'kay~?"

"Of course."

The young woman stirs awake, but his eardrums are saved by the duct tape that Floyd had slapped over her mouth. She looked around in a panic and struggled against the ropes binding her wrists and ankles together. "Hello there, Agent Assyra. You're my darling Y/N's favorite sparring partner, aren't you?" Jade whispers softly with a polite smile. A hand gently caresses her hair while she squirms. "I think you'll be good entertainment for me today. Oh, Floyd must have exerted quite a bit of effort bringing you to me, I ought to meet his expectations."

"Damn right." Floyd whines as he collapses on the sofa. "That bitch put up a fucking fight. 'M still sore from her kicking, she just had to do it in stilettos, didn't she?"

"I can imagine. Floyd, pass me the box under the cushion."

Floyd hands him a small box with his favorite set of scalpels inside it.

"Let's see, it's quite unhygienic to do it in the living room, but I don't plan to let you live too long anyway. I suppose Y/N and I will just have to settle for a hotel room tonight." He hums a merry little tune as he made small incisions in her skin, the blade easily digging through the flesh. "You must have a tracker somewhere in your bloodstream, let's find it, shall we? Oh, I've always wanted to dissect an Interpol agent."

"Why didn't you dissect your Y/N?"

"That's not very funny, Floyd." Jade chuckles. He cuts a line down her arm and watches the blood flow down his rug. "I'll have to remember to buy a new rug. Perhaps Y/N can help me shopping~"

"Bah, you're sooo whipped it's gross."

He makes another line on her leg, gently prodding at the layer of skin and looking for the tracker. "I am a man domesticated."

"Happy birthday—um, Jade...?"

He freezes at the front door being suddenly shoved open with a happy-turned-concerned voice, slowly looking at the person by the door. It's you. In a cute sweater with a big box in your hands, hair sprinkled with snow and eyes wide in horrified shock. "Uh oh." He hears Floyd giggle, and the girl under him moves around more to grab your attention. You look at the girl, then at Jade, then at the cake in your hands. Then at the girl again. "Assyra...?" She nods helplessly. He thinks you might run forward to help your fellow agent (who was clearly on the verge of death from severe bloodloss), but the only thing you do is look at the scalpel in Jade's hand, and back to his eyes. You maintain eye contact while you slowly put down your box and leave as if nothing happened.

"Guess you're single again. Sad."

He ignores his brother's words, running to the box you'd left behind.

Inside is a big cake that he assumes is homemade, half chocolate and half strawberry and whipped cream. It looks decent, and he could feel your efforts in the two-colored icing writing out a message on the top.

'Happy Birthday, Jade! Love you lots :D'

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

Another pull of the trigger, another lifeless body falling to a heap on the ground. He looks on expressionlessly as Azul glances at him with a raised eyebrow before continuing to talk to the person whose lackey Jade had just killed.

"As you can see, Jade isn't feeling too patient today, so if you could just—"

He shoots another bullet, just barely grazing the man's ear before it enters the wall.

"Okay! I agree, I agree, forty percent, yes!" The man nods and signs the contract before scampering away with his (useless) guards. "While I do like a good deal, is there any explanation for your trigger happy behavior?" Azul looks at him in confusion. Floyd takes the offending firearm from his hand and pushes him to sit down on the armrest of Azul's big fancy chair.

"The little cop ghosted him, and he ain't too happy 'bout it." Floyd explains as he puts the gun on the table.

"They were supposed to run back." Jade finally speaks, brows furrowing. "The timing was off, it was an accident they weren't supposed to see. Their conditioning was incomplete and if their higher-ups catch a whiff of their feelings for me, they'll rewire my pearl back to being their little hound. They need to be back to me, and fast."

"Sorry, Jade, maybe I shoulda' brought that bitch in another time."

"It's not your fault." He sighs.

"Then? Why haven't you found them yet?"

Jade looks at Azul. "Have I become predictable? Because the men I've sent off, and the camera footage I've been keeping track of—all of them seem completely avoided. It's like they know my move two steps before I do it."

"Perhaps you've truly met your match."

"Or maybe your pearly's trapped at headquarters." Floyd smirks. "Let's go there! Like a field trip, except with guns and bombs."

"Absolutely not."

"Aww, Azul, you're no fun."

Jade leans back against the chair, looking at his phone lockscreen; a picture of the two of you cupping a mushroom with smiles on your faces. He hovers his thumb above your figure. He unlocks the screen to dial your number again. Like the previous one hundred and fifty two times, it only rings endlessly. Frustrated, Jade stands up, pockets his phone, and picks up his gun again. "Don't you have five more people to meet? Get them in." He snaps at Azul, and the man only pushes his glasses up and shrugs. He clicks a button and the door opens. In comes another greasy, balding, middle-aged loser with some eye candy on his arm, trying to look not so desperate.

Jade aims for his forehead.

"Oh dear, Jade's truly in a bad mood right now, Mr. Sanchez. Let's get this over with quickly before his finger slips." Azul drawls with a smirk, pushing the contract forward.

"Sign here, please."

Fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Late night devil, put your hands on me

And never, never, never ever let go

"Whoop! On your left, Jaaaaade~"

He clicks his tongue and dodges accordingly, a flying metal bat hurtling through the air. The smoke and gasoline is choking, but the smell of blood could barely even make him flinch at this point. He turns to kick an incoming assailant in the gut, effortlessly catching a handgun thrown his way by his twin. "Jade! Grab the sparklies, okay?" Jade sighs and opens the sack, sweeping the mess of jewelry inside it and sealing it shut. Somehow, Floyd's idea of 'letting loose and forgetting cops that ghost you' was robbing a luxury jewelry store, just the two of them. Sibling bonding time, of sorts. While he normally wouldn't mind, he's been feeling all too ill without your presence.

"Oh pearl, when will you come back to me?"

He sighs listlessly. A shot is fired towards another guard before he goes to pick up a string of pearls and wear it around his neck. Everything just reminds him of you.

"Sirens, haha!"

At Floyd's signal, he lugs the sack over one shoulder and runs with his brother to the armored car they'd yanked from Azul. He hops into the driver's seat while throwing the 'sparklies' onto his brother's lap.

They don't get very far before a barricade of police cars force them to stop.

"That's no fun." Floyd pouts.

"Backup?"

"Nah, it's cool. Let's just spend a while in a jail cell, I wanna see Azul pop a vein, hehe~"

He could almost imagine Azul's reaction to them getting arrested. He shares a look with his twin and they hop out the car in unison, hands in the air and weapons thrown to the ground. His eyes widen when he realizes the person walking towards him with handcuffs was you.

"Jade Leech." You say sternly, tugging at his arms and cuffing his wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

Someone else takes Floyd in.

You push him to a police car and just before you can walk off, he helplessly whispers to you. Not a cry for help, not a plea, no.

A soft, hopeful, sickly sweet "My love." that makes you stop for one moment. Just one.

Before you continue walking.

He lost the gamble.

And above all else—

He'd lost you.

Teeth

Never, never, never ever let go

Floyd's in a separate cell.

He's flattered, honestly. His own cell is so heavily guarded, cameras and guards everywhere, it makes him feel very important. But it's quite boring, only a bed, a sink, and a shoddily covered toilet. He thinks the clothes look horrendous, and he's patiently awaiting his dear boss who would never leave him nor his brother rotting in a maximum security prison for the rest of their lives. But hours pass by and he's getting rather antsy. How long would it take Azul to bust him out?

The lights go out.

He sinks into his little cot and looks out the tiny window. It's barely even dark and they expect him to go to sleep, somehow.

Who sleeps at 7 in the—

Boom!

He sits up with a grin. Seems like it wasn't scheduled after all.

There's the sounds of fighting and gunshots and explosions and screaming. It all quietens eventually, leaving him on the edge of his seat for whichever side came out on top. There's footsteps in the hallway. Blue tinted silvery hair and glasses hiding an annoyed glare—it's Azul. Floyd comes barreling in a second later. "Jade. I didn't expect your depression to be so bad you'd let yourself get arrested." His friend boss unlocks the door and he steps out with a stretch.

"My apologies. I must admit I was rather preoccupied with my loss."

"Then congratulations."

They walk down the halls littered with dead bodies and Azul's men making sure the dead bodies stayed dead.

"Pardon?"

"It was quite difficult getting through the bulletproof gate, much less just finding this hellhole. Top secret, off the grid, heavily guarded and everything."

"Well then, I thank you for your efforts."

They step out of the prison and back to the grounds.

"Yes yes, but they weren't all my efforts you know?"

He sees a familiar silhouette.

"This place is Interpol property, after all."

"Jade!" You run towards him and tackle him into a hug. He can barely believe his eyes, but he hugs you back so tight you start gasping for air.

"Why...?"

You smile. "My name's Y/N L/N, I killed that alias! I graduated from X police academy, but just recently, I leaked confidential information from the international police force to one of the biggest crime groups in the world. It was fun!"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, but now I'm wanted and have nowhere else to stay." You tug on his sleeve. "Stranger, you got an extra bedspace? I just escaped from getting killed by my former mentors and I'm all tuckered out."

He carries you in his arms and kisses you hard.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade leech

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chained-sweater · 2 months ago

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favorite headcanons for each outsiders character?

my favorite headcanons for TO characters

notes: i saw this ask this morning and wanted to answer it, but i had to leave for school. 😭 but now i can answer it! :D i was actually going to make another headcanons post today when i saw this! great timing, anon!

the curtis gang:

— steve has a pet cat named "kitty".

↑ he was like, 5 or 6-years-old when he got her. that little boy was SO HAPPY when his dad let him adopt her. he named her kitty bc of his limited english. (i hc his dad doesn't know english, so steve's first language is german. when they got kitty, he was just beginning to learn english. i'll explain in another post.)

— darry screams like a little girl.

↑ his scream is SO high-pitched, it's not even funny. bro screams SO LOUD it scares everyone. (rip johnny.)

— ponyboy cusses people out in french when they're cranky/irritable.

↑ he talks shit about the socs too, but those guys can't do anything to them bc they don't know wtf he is saying, lmaooo.

— dallas has severe cynophobia (fear of dogs).

↑ ik i've said this before, but i just really want to elaborate on how fucking terrified dally is of dogs. just SAYING the word "dog" will send him into a panic attack. that's how severe his phobia is.

— two-bit has so many allergies, it's not even funny.

↑ bro's allergic to gluten, pollen, cats AND dogs, carrots, tuna.....the list goes on.

— sodapop fucking HATES soda (the drink).

↑ idrk how to explain, man. when he tried it for the first time he spit that shit out so fast. never had it ever again. (ponyboy is so confused/angry over this.)

— johnny's eating habits are so wild, guys.

↑ this boy either packs away a whole thanksgiving turkey or eats a single cracker. there is no in between.

* * *

the shepard siblings:

— tim is really good with little kids/babies.

↑ he isn't the biggest fan of little ones, but he doesn't HATE them. sometimes when he's out in public and he sees a baby being fussy, he'll just be like "omg shut up" and scoops 'em up and just holds them and then like two minutes later the kid's passed out on his shoulder. curly and angela are baffled.

— angela LOVES doing hair.

↑ she practices her skills on her hair and her brothers' hair. (mainly tim.)

— curly is the biggest daredevil you will ever meet. (that's already canon.)

↑ ever seen jackass? yeah, that's curly.

* * *

other greasers:

— sandy loved painting.

↑ she would make small paintings on tiny pieces of paper and gift them to soda. after she left, soda burned them all.

— sylvia is the biggest bitch you will ever meet. (canon.)

↑ she is literally the worst person ever. the reason dally went back to her so much is bc she fucking manipulated/gaslighted him. idk HOW people can praise her 'n shit, like, c'mon y'all, she canonically cheated on dallas MULTIPLE TIMES and he STILL took her back. she tried hooking up with JOHNNY for crying out loud. horrible, horrible person here, folks.

— evie is literally a GODDESS at makeup.

↑ girlies (or anyone), if you want your makeup done, call evie. she'll fix you up so good, you won't even recognize yourself. steve sometimes lets her do his makeup and he'll walk around like that all day. (soda goes absolutely feral.)

— buck is dally's father figure.

↑ he was the very first person dallas met when he arrived in tulsa. buck took one look at 12-year-old dally and said, "yep, he's my son now." they're both really close and would die for each other.

* * *

the socs:

— marcia is very creative/artsy.

↑ she draws, paints, knits, crochets, writes, and so much more. she makes her own clothes and makes clothes for her friends and family as well. super talented girl.

— randy used to be a greaser.

↑ he was born on the east side and lived a peaceful life until his parents and little sister died in a housefire when he was 10. he was put in a foster home/orphanage and stayed there until he was 12. the only reason he became a soc was because the foster care facility/social services placed him with a foster family that lived on the west side. he absolutely hated being a soc and post-canon he runs away and becomes a hippie and lives on the east side again.

— bob is the biggest kleptomaniac ever.

↑ this man steals everything and anything. his rings? stolen from other socs. his clothes? swiped 'em under the cashier's nose. he steals shit he doesn't even need. he just takes everything that isn't nailed down. (two-bit rivals him in this.)

— cherry hates the wilderness.

↑ this girl hates bugs, arachnids, snakes, EVERYTHING. do not take her camping. she will whine and complain the entire time. poor girl goes home covered in bug bites despite wearing a shit ton of bug spray.

— don't have any headcanons for paul yet, lol sorry.

end notes: that's everyone. thanks for the ask, anon! ❤️

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ohnomytummy · 1 year ago

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Hi, I have a story from this Thanksgiving that I thought this community would like, and I don't have a kink blog to post it to so I'm gonna share it here cause I know your box is always open. Lol

I'm relatively thin, severely underweight for a good chunk of my childhood, have always been poor so I've never gotten to indulge too much in feasting, not in this economy. But long backstory short, I had the house to myself for pretty much 4 days straight for Thanksgiving break, along with all the leftover food from the entire family thanksgiving.. I was asked to toss most of it because we didn't have room in the fridge and it would go bad, but I didn't want any of it to go to waste.. you can probably tell where his is going..

I have a pretty sensitive stomach since I get full pretty quick, and I'm also lactose intolerant and most meat makes me gassy (and sweaty for some reason?), but for some reason none of that mattered to me, I put a YouTube series I've been itching to watch on my phone and munched on everything that was in front of me which included:

-almost half of a turkey that had been sitting out on the table for a day

-a platter of cheese and cube/slice things and pepperoni/some other meat I forgot

-I wanna say maybe 20 small sugar cookies (the puffy Walmart ones with frosting)

-about 2 litres total of a miz of lemonade, sprite, ginger ale, and coca cola

- 5 bread rolls with melted cheese and butter

-uncounted handfuls old candy I still had from Halloween....

I didn't even realize I'd been eating so much, but I guess since it was all over the course of about a day (9 hours-ish?) It was gradual enough that I didn't realize I'd gone overboard until the end. I remember reaching for the next thing getting ready and thinking "wow i wonder how much ive eaten" and seeing that the answer was all of it. I was wearing an elastic tank top, and I looked down and holy shit I looked pregnant. The tank top is kind of long but there was maybe an inch of belly sticking out from underneath naturally, and the tank top itself was like vacuum sealed tight to my skin!

This is where stuff gets crazy. I put my hand on my stomach to rub it and I could feel it churning under my hand, from the inside ofc and through my belly. I'd been burping throughout the whole stuffing absent-mindedly, but now that it was all setting in, I felt like I was going to puke. I couldn't even feel nauseous at first, it was just PAIN in my middle and I could barely get up. I'm so glad I was alone because I was moaning and rubbing my belly with both hands, holding it as I tried to get up. I could feel myself bringing up burps with every exhale, they were like.. soft and quiet but also really deep and sick, coming out with every breath, like "... urrrrrrp.. hic-hurrrrrp... uurppp. ur-urrp... hic-hUuuurrrrrrrrrp..." and with groans after each one lmao. I made my way to the bathroom eventually and sat by the toilet, sure I was gonna be sick, but I wasn't. I almost wanted to be, but I think I was just too scared to puke. So I sat back against the tub, facing the toilet, my whole body was covered in a cold sweat atp and i was rubbing my belly, and I could feel every single rumble as it ripped through my stomach and rose up as a belch. I couldn't stop burping like I was just about crying on the bathroom floor, bloated as a tick, belching helplessly. After a few minutes the burps started slowing down, but they were much more wet when they did come up. I think the meat and lactose was probably digesting now because I actually started to feel queasy. I started holding in my burps in fear that the food might come up, but then the air started xoming out the back. Starting with small short toots, leading to nauseous farts that, much like the burps, WOULDNT STOP. I was uncontrollably farting, small short bursts every few seconds and idk how to describe it but the farts felt pukey somehow. My stomach was churning like crazy and I could hear it from the outside (still felt intense as I rubbed it too). All the while the original belches never really stopped, so I was just on the floor, gas from both ends pouring out. My stomach was so hard and tight it felt like a bowling ball attached to me and my shirt was so tight it was so hot in hindsight but I felt like I was dying in the moment. Anyways I eventually fell asleep on the floor, woke up feeling sick, burped and farted next to the toilet again and tried doing the doggy-style yoga pose (best that I could, anyways, with my bloated upset tummy still filled with rotting undigested Thanksgiving leftovers) and kept farting until out of nowhere I almost shat myself, I think the position I was in moved the air along but the air took some stuff with it, so now I had to abandon that and sit on the toilet with a trash bin next to me because I couldn't fit it between my legs (my tummy took up the room lol) and it was mostly just me being sick from both ends, along with super uncontrollable rumbly burps and farts that just would not ever fucking stop.

Once it was all out things went back to normal, other than me being really gassy for a few more days.

I will let my uh *cough* community have this 😳🥵

#thanksgiving #ask #wowowowowowoeow #your poor poor belly #but also not….whoopsie

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unhonestlymirror · 7 days ago

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I've seen meme made by @flashlight-sticker and I wanted to remake it based on my real life experience (with explanations):

1. Every Eastern European country is very good at cooking - but the first place is shared between Ukraine and Latvia.

In Ukraine, I recommend you to visit "Flagman" restaurants (expensive), "Dary morya" seafood store (affordable, may have delicacies like escallops or pike caviar by a pretty good price sometimes), and of course Silpo (used to be hella expensive but worth it, idk for now, GO BUY THEIR BUCKWHEAT BREAD AND PIZZA!!) and Puzata Hata cantine net (pretty affordable but very good quality).

In Latvia, it's Lido. Just go there, you won't regret it, the staff speaks English. They also have very nice dairy products and ice cream in Rimi shops. Latvia is fucking awesome at cooking, literally nothing's ever disappointed me there.

Belarus is also very good cook, especially when it comes to potatoes, ofc, but their meat and meat products are too extravagant for me... but it's definitely worth trying! People often bring chocolate sweets, birch juice and dark bread from there as souvenirs because they're pretty delicious, too.

Lithuanian food is also amazing, especially if you're a sportsman or student (someone who got used to burn lots of calories on daily basis). Biržų Duona bakery, Iki shops, Maxima shops, Lido shops, Charlie Pizza and Fokus Pizza (serve non-pizza nice business lunches), CAFFEINE - these are some delicious and affordable options, I don't go often to restaurants. Lithuanians tend to like pretty spicy hot soups (India's nephew, afterr all XD). My only advice to you: if you visit Lithuania and you don't feel like you're gonna drop dead if you don't eat something right goddamn now - DO NOT GO TO FAST FOOD POINTS. Literally go anywhere else but McDonald's, KFC and Hesburger. There are so many finger-licking options, don't waste your time on some average hamburgers.

Turkey is good at cooking (they're Ukraine's neighbours after all). Especially at local sweets and French creme soups. I recommend you katmer (sweet hot pistachio lasagna) and grilled seafood.

Spain didn't impress me with its cuisine. 90% of tourists who praise it are Germans - and whatever Germans eat on daily basis would make any Eastern European miserable and depressed. In Spain, it seems like they drink fresh orange juice only, which is not bad unless you have citrus allergy. Then it's gonna be a serious quest, especially if you're out of funds (still water is more expensive than orange juice). Also, Jordan makes paella better.

Never been to Belgium so idk.

Never been to Bulgaria either but they're Ukraine's cousin so their food must be good. Thus, I place them higher.

Finland is Okay cook, definitely better than the rest of Nordics, so I place them higher.

France is pretty good cook, but even with their huge food diversity, they still don't have affordable good quality cantines. Some of them tend to close cafes and restaurants during lunch time?? Thus, I place them lower.

Sorry, Greece, but never in my life I've been served with unpeeled deep fried microshrimps... Karavidopsiha is pretty nice, tho. Potatoes are meh. I recommend you to order fish and seafood. I usually order non-spicy fish because it's cooked really fast and it's hard to hide bad smell&taste in case it's rotten.

Literally every restaurant in the center of Rome!! will serve you with black-peppered pasta carbonara... In many cases, it's also not boiled enough - and in all cases, it costs too much for its quality! Wtf, Italy, that's your capital, the face of a country! You better book in an apartment with kitchen because small local shops have some nice fresh products which you will definitely have to cook yourself in order to stop being depressed. You also need to have a guide or a good old friend who lives here for a while, who can recommend you some nice restaurants (in most cases, far from the center). If you're a very rich& influensive guest visiting Italy, in ALL 5 starts restaurants, they're gonna serve you with Tiramisu (not bad, just keep it in mind). Also, DON'T order pizza here without a guide - better go to McDonald's.

Hugary is good at cooking meat.

Egypt is good in everything which isn't European cuisine.

Switzerland has nice warm spinach bakery in Migros. McDonald's there fucking sucks!!!!

Never been to Canada and USA so idk.

Liechtenstein idk, Poland... overall has nice cuisine but almost every time it's a bit too burnt and/or oily to my taste. If you're from USA/Western Europe, you'll find it amazing anyway.

5. Norway trying very hard but still can't cook for shit. They don't even have salted salmon in shops, wtf! Vegetables and fruist costs like they're made from gold. Bakery's tasteless, but I give kudos for the visual appearance. My favorite pastime there became eating sugar substitute. Idk how non-fishermen live there, if I had to eat like this everyday, I'd hang myself.

Germany is famous among Eastern Europeans for having really bad taste in food. They really believe pop tarts are delicious, and that coffee&croissant is a rich man's breakfast, poor guys... Every time I go there and pick a random cafe, I order a soup and it's ALWAYS inedible. If you can't even cook a normal soup, then what can you cook at all?... Bakery's also tasteless. They drink so much beer it leaves me speechless. McDonald's and Chinese cuisine will be your calm island in the middle of a stormy sea.

In UK, the only dish I remember as good was street food (fresh strawberries in chocolate). And they were made by Polish girls. Fish&Chips isn't even worth trying. Literally every country cooks better English breakfast than England. Just go to McDonald's, don't torture yourself/your family&friends.

#not really hetalia #hws #aph #Lithuania #Latvia #Ukraine #Belarus #Turkey #France #Spain #Finland #Bulgaria #Greece #Italy #Hungary #Egypt #Switzerland #Poland #Norway #Germany #UK #England

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aleatoryw · 2 years ago

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I will be making the top four (4) answers into a sandwich and eating it when this poll ends so. choose wisely. or don't, idk

#tumblr polls #poll #sandwich poll babey

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copperbadge · 1 year ago

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(for when you're less stabby but still productively salty)

Statements of (assumed) fact: - You enjoy mustard - You know a lot about mustard varieties - You enjoy BBQ - You have ties to Texas Violence: Rank the various types of regional BBQ

It took me so long to be less stabby!

We talked about this a bit but for the benefit of the readers, I recall saying that while I do enjoy barbecue I'm not any kind of expert about it. Although I did the other day have a conversation with someone from Texas who asked, "So did you find any good barbecue in Chicago yet?" and I said "Uhhhhhhhh not really?" and he was like I KNOW RIGHT

There's ok barbecue here, but nothing especially great. I know that there's great barbecue somewhere on the South Side but I'm never down there so I don't get much chance to sample. And as he pointed out, Texas-style and Chicago-style are very different.

IDK, my love of being a snob about things is warring with my love of sampling true regional cuisine, so it's hard to rank regional barbecue when I want to eat all of it. I do love a sweet sauce, I'd rather have sweet than hot, so I think my tastes generally run towards midwestern, KC-style. For the same reason I like Carolina, because it's that mix of mustard and sweet. I'm big on burnt tips and smoked turkey and I do think you get a lot more of that outside of Texas, where it seems like it's always about ribs and brisket.

But also, because I ate a pretty limited diet as a kid especially when dining out, one of the foods I love most in the world is a grilled hamburger, even though a lot of people don't consider burgers to be barbecue (and of course purists don't consider "grilling" to be barbecue). But if there's a grill going I want to slap some burgers on it. Or some teriyaki chicken skewers. This is probably my California showing.

So I think probably like...KC-style, then Carolina, then Texas, then like, northern-midwest where I am now, and then whatever's happening anywhere west of Texas. But also: hamburgers.

Come to think of it, I don't know if the northeast has a barbecue tradition. Y'all got good cue out there? Don't get me wrong, I love a lobster roll or some steamed crab or slow-cooked baked beans, but I don't think I've ever seen a recipe for like, Maine Smoked Pork Belly.

Anyway I do love A Meat cooked over A Fire in A Sauce, which I feel is what counts. :D

#food #digitaldiscipline #barbecue

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ukulelegodparent · 11 months ago

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hey i just wanted to send an ask as someone who has been like really struggling with this for a while. it was your tag on post about white south africans that went something like people acting like having ancestors in europe gives them some magical tie to that place. i see a lot of posts telling people like me to reclaim their european roots rather than appropriate stuff that doesn't belong to me. is that really the answer? i just feel like i don't l have another option. seeing people with cultural ties that they can draw pride, inspiration, wisdom from and then looking at my own lack of any of that just kind of opened like a deep pit of dread in me as i thought about it more and more. idk even know if you have the answers necessarily its just been eating away at me and that tag kinda just kinda made me really wanna ask on the off chance you had any sort of answer.

Hey, I mean I'm no expert on the topic and can only really speak from my own experience which is mostly as a European interacting with Americans. This won't necessarily match your situation, but I just know more about the situation in the US bc of well. The everything of it.

I mean embrace your roots all you want and look at the culture of your ancestors and keep what you want and leave the rest. It's yours. But let's take someone who is German-American. Their ancestors came there in the mid 19th century and that is their latest direct cultural tie to Germany. Or German lands or whatever. It's the middle of the 19th century. It's complicated. Point is those ancestors left a society where their specific culture (whatever region they were living in) was the majority and went into a culture where it was the minority. So either they assimilate or they form a smaller community with other Germans. Either way at that point they are cut off from the main bulk of what they consider their culture. They themselves will have strong cultural influences from the culture that surrounds them and even without that the culture on it's own will slowly warp and change. So too will their language. Maybe they stop speaking German in the first generation, maybe during one of the world wars, maybe there are still parts of the adult population of that community that speak a form of German. What that German-American person would consider the traditions and culture that were passed down to them from the German side of the family might have very little to do with anything that was part of the culture of those initial immigrants to the US. Now while all that was happening German culture in Germany also changed a lot. Between Unification, a world war, the establishment of a democratic system, the absolute turmoil of the 20s, female emancipation, fascism, another world war, a refugee crisis, another dictatorship, a lot of immigration from Turkey and Italy, the establishment of the EU, reunification etc etc. German culture in Germany is also drastically different from what it was in the mid 19th century when those ancestors left.

So that is the one slightly odd thing that like. People talk about their what they consider their own culture and they call it eg "German" or "Polish" or whatever, but the culture they have has just been through a lot of washes. Which is fine, but it is a bit silly when people post pictures of two old women on a cemetery and they want to call them 'sweet ladies' but end up calling them 'old hags'. But also by calling it like a culture that has a whole country attached to it it's a bit like they're declaring themselves experts which. I mean it leads to miscommunication is all I'm saying. And also there's the point that ethnicity just doesn't work like that in Europe. It's just not carried down that far through the family. I might have had Polish or Dutch or Danish ancestors in the early 19th century but I literally would never know. So it's odd to us here for people to build their identity around something that lies so far in their past. Again. This is the part that is just a little odd, will get people made fun of etc. Maybe a little annoying at times but whatever. 'you have yours over there and we have ours over here' is the name of the game.

The frustrating thing is when people with this history act like they have any sort authority on these things. And especially the frequent (Especially American) 'Bull in a China shop' moments you get where people then base their entire personality around stereotypes and come here and act like they belong. And just. There is sometimes this deep unawareness with especially Americans that they are foreigners here. Of course with Americans the cultural imperialism plays into the frustration here but I see it even with my cousin who grew up in Aotearoa and who also just. I mean both of her parents are German, a lot of their friends are and they've visited almost every year she's been alive and yet, when she says she wants to study here all I can think is 'Girl you will have the biggest culture shock of your life' and her parents literally barely have Kiwi citizenship.

And it might also be from the European side an attempt to remove oneself from colonialism, though I don't think that's the case. There is a huge cultural divide, especially between continental Europe and the Anglosphere. But mostly I mean culture is a living breathing thing that people have to actively participate in to be a part of it. And wherever in Europe your roots may lie, by nature of living on the other side of the world you cannot participate in those traditions and you will be part of a different culture. Like my culture to me is Easter Fires just as much as getting a Döner after a long night out and getting fresh bread rolls from a bakery on a Sunday morning and not being able to go shopping on a Sunday and terrible terrible Apres-Ski music (that I must admit I indulge in sometimes) and the stellar parody dubs of 2010 German Youtube and hearing church bells, and the architecture and the language omg the language, the beautiful poems, having to suffer through Faust in school, the supermarkets, the way towns work here, the way winter smells, the way my grandfather talks and the way my great-grand aunt talks, the forests, the mountains, the fields, not going to the Oktoberfest, not because I don't have the means to but because growing up I was taught to despise it and all things Munich with it, good Brezen, amazing lentil stew (from the can of course), the list goes on and on and on. And some of these are really specific to me and some are more general. And like if you want to connect with your roots, I'm genuinely happy for you, have fun! But for our hypothetical German American, whatever sits at the heart of German and European culture (bread and a certain grumpiness seem to be a big component of both) it will probably never be truly hers. Even if she were to move here. And that's fine. I mean. Idk which post you saw bc there actually were two where I left comments like that in the tags, but one of them listed a lot of examples of what culture can be and of why the 'haha white people have no culture' thing is inaccurate. Maybe it's just that it's hard to see sometimes when your culture is so squarely the majority you never ever have to think about it. Idk. I look around me and even between the regions I've lived in there are such stark cultural differences. Culture can be the songs you sing for children to fall asleep, what the most prominent mode of transport is, where you go to eat, what you eat, what you cook, whether you cook at all, whether you go to church, whether there are crosses hanging everywhere despite rarely anyone ever going to church, what you wear, especially outside of traditional clothing. Maybe at the core of this discomfort I expressed in those tags is also the big question of 'why are you looking here for guidance? You are so different.'

#this is chaotic but I hope it was at least a little helpful?#it's also very long #feel free to add to it or whatever #I will go get groceries now #ask #anon

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corxoran · 28 days ago

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Your lambros in the daycare au fill me with joy and whimsy Do you have any silly scenarios or just some fun lighthearted stuff of them? Or contrary any more stuff about their background??? I'm foaming at the mouth for more

I couldn't think of aaaanything to say but then I thought - hey, since it's holiday season, why not talk about how the boys did on holidays when they were living on the streets?

Before they became the property of old Ratchet, they obviously didn't really experience holidays like average kids. First of all, Sunstreaker doesn't like the holidays season. It became a little unlivable out on the streets when it got cold, and he likes his personal space. Course, when it got so cold out, he'd have to huddle with Sideswipe for warmth more often than not, and Sideswipe is one hell of a leech.

Sideswipe could never hate the holidays because even though he existed in a world that didn't get to experience holiday cheer, he always thought it was kind of infectious anyway. See, the difference between Sunny and Sides is that Sides is the type to want to survive to experience everything fun in the world, whereas Sunny is a lot more focused on just surviving at all.

Halloween was kind of nice because of the free candy, but Sunstreaker got tired fast of reminding Sideswipe they couldn't live off of candy. Sideswipe really, really wanted to just live off of candy lmao.

Thanksgiving was... idk, thanksgiving?? LMAO nothing really happens around that time. People are in their warm homes, enjoying turkey and the company of their families, while the streets are cold and the boys are alone as always.

Christmas is the worst, though. It snows, and the poor boys are outside shivering so bad they nearly come out of their skin. They don't get gifts, they don't write letters to Santa because neither of them are stupid enough to believe some stranger will go through that much work to do something nice for you (and they don't have paper or a pen?), and they nearly freeze to death.

But eventually, they begin to go to the daycare. So, when it starts to get cold, they can actually be inside for once. Of course, the daycare isn't open on holidays so the boys still spend their snowy Christmases outside until Ratchet figures them out. Sideswipe eventually convinces Sunstreaker that Ratchet coming into their life is a good thing, and after a little bit of a legal process, Ratchet becomes their guardian.

Having a legal guardian is good because it means you can eat three meals a day, even if that feels like a little too much for your stomach. It also means you can sit inside where it's warm when it snows, and you get the chance to realize that snow is very beautiful when you aren't shivering to death trudging through a foot of it. You don't have to steal things to survive, which also means you don't have to duck whenever that stupid cop comes prowling down the street on his patrol, and you don't have to worry about where to sleep either.

Ratchet doesn't tell them to write letters or bake cookies for Santa, because he knows they aren't the type to believe in that stuff. Instead, Ratchet hands them their gifts directly, and they eat the cookies that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker (mostly Sideswipe) make, which Sideswipe states very clearly and firmly are for no one but them because he doesn't want anyone but the people he loves to eat his baking. Santa's got millions of kids making him cookies anyway.

And Sunstreaker gets to stop worrying about their survival because that becomes Ratchet's job. Instead, he has to worry about going to school... which, in his opinion, isn't even that good of a trade off.

How's that??!!!!!

#my brain hurts #cork yap #cork yap gone Lethal #daycare au #sunstreaker #sideswipe #ratchet #if i made typos ignore them because it's almost 2am and i'm passing out #not silly or lighthearted?#my bad #bye <3 #ask cork

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bomberqueen17 · 9 months ago

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adderall day 1

I'm not going to have any particular deep thoughts about this, but I feel like I should write stuff down. Several people have advised that.

I still don't know how much this is going to cost me, as my insurance couldn't be verified and I'm going to have to do messy things probably to find out. But I've got the pills in my hot little hand, 16 of them, and a follow-up appointment, and perhaps by then I'll know what this is actually costing.

It seems that it varies wildly how people manage to get ADHD dx's. Many many PCPs will not diagnose it or prescribe for it. It seems extremely gatekeepy to me, and not in a helpful way. my own PCP, as I describe more and more of my struggles to get healthcare in general, is being revealed to me to be less and less of any kind of a good fit-- she just seems baffled by everything I say. She asked if I have heartburn, for example, and I said, truthfully, oh yes, if I don't eat regularly, one of the ways I realize I've gone too long is that I start to have heartburn. So I've learned to be conscientious about my eating schedule, and eat small meals and snacks at regular intervals throughout the day, and that has cleared up the problem. And this actively baffled her, she was like "i've never heard of anything like this", and I can't imagine what she thought I was saying. Does no one else in the human race ever get queasy/stomach-acidy from going too long without food? Especially eating heavily and then not eating for a long time afterward? That's the worst for me, so I avoid that. I highly doubt I am the only person ever to experience this. But she seemed convinced that I must not know what heartburn is.

That's just one example. So. If I can get my head on straight at all, I am going to start looking for a new primary care physician. I'm sure this doctor is fine, just not for me.

(She is obsessed that my fasting blood glucose levels are too high. I read an article about it, in the 2010s sometime the CDC decided that 5.7 was a new worrying number (I don't know what the units are, but 7 is what people with well-managed diabetes shoot for), and now they were going to declare this new number "pre-diabetes" and start medicating it. The WHO has refused the concept of "pre-diabetes", pointing out that about 2% of people with this number wind up developing full-blown diabetes whether medicated or not, and that's about the same number of people who develop diabetes without having had this diagnosis, so it is in fact not any kind of reliable indicator of looming diabetes, so it should be referred to as "elevated fasting blood glucose levels" and not the new fictional "pre-diabetes". But there's money in selling that medicine, so American doctors are encouraged to make this diagnosis. And my doctor has put it into my chart that she plans to start me on Metformin if this number does not go down.

I'm refusing that. Medicate me for diabetes if I develop diabetes. I can be annually screened for it just like anyone. Sure, keep an eye on it! I take this seriously. But i am not getting medicated for a condition the WHO thinks is fictional. Thanks.)

Anyway that was a digression.

I'm hoping to at least make a start on dialing in my meds with this online guy, so that when I switch PCPs I can show up with the ADHD treatment as a fait accomplit and not have the new PCP throw a fit. I might try it with the current one too-- "Idk you told me it was incredibly complicated and insurance doesn't cover it so I went to my insurance company and they sent me to this guy and it wasn't complicated at all and I'm responding super well to the treatment so I guess this is what I do now?" but I am just anticipating her throwing a fit of some kind, since she is absolutely convinced I have major depressive disorder and has been trying to get me to go back on Celexa, which did me so much no good that I cold-turkeyed off it and gave myself horrible brain zaps. Don't fucking do that guys.

(It was with this same practice! It's on there, I no-showed to an appointment because I had so little executive function I wasn't even able to keep track of it! And she's still like yah medicating u for depression is super what's going to work. ma'am i have never been suicidal but I remember being on Celexa and most of it was my shitty life situation at the time but mostly it is a gray expanse of despair and ineffectualness, and getting inexorably fatter whilst starting to develop an eating disorder about it, and getting benched by my roller derby coach despite exercising myself to constant exhaustion and performing better than I ever had on the track because she saw my spreading waistline and assumed I was slacking off, and anyway. Yeah no.)

So anyway. I'm letting myself be stream of consciousnessy because it seems right. I had a reasonable breakfast, a lot of water, some coffee, a multivitamin, and my first pill about an hour ago, and am now ensconced in the recliner with the cat because the cat insists. I have started to feel.... kind of... like my throat feels kind of dry so I'm drinking more water, and I just got a little bit not quite dizzy and am acutely aware of all my eye movements, so I guess that's notable.

OK the plan. I would like to someday be able to make to-do lists, that's a medium-term goal. Meanwhile I'm still doing narratives of how i'd like a day to go. I have fallen off that a bit; I've been trying to do not a bullet journal but a just regular day planner in this new year (i got something on clearance off amazon lol) and mostly what I've used it for is as a diary post-hoc, writing down what i got done, and making little notes of what I want to get done, because otherwise my memory wipes itself and I don't know what I did all last week either. I fell off it this week because Dude was out of town and I was off kilter. But I'm going to fill back in what I can remember-- I'm keeping track of what meals I cook, what exercise I do, things like that-- and hope to keep it up going forward.

Routine, I hope, is what will help me.

Today. It is rainy today. I didn't get some of my stuff done while Dude was gone because of course the list I made would have taken six weeks of work, that's how my lists go. But I did get a lot done, so I'm going to write all that down. And today it is rainy, so I can spend time in the basement. What I want to do is empty out all my nice baskets I use to tote craft things around, and re-fill them with more curated selections. I think one basket for like, all the sewing tools, just all of them, in one place, and then another basket that is like, all of the embroidery supplies, and then a container that is An Adequate Selection Of Thread and also machine-sewing supplies? maybe? and then Active Projects can go into a third container that may or may not travel with me. Anyway, thinking about that is a work in progress.

I need to pack for my first trip of the season to the farm. I need to put away all the supplies from painting the kitchen, because I am finally officially totally completely done with that. I need to then tidy the kitchen counter and there's a little wooden cart that used to have our coffee stuff on it and I've been using it to dump all the shit and assorted project detritus from the ongoing painting on, and I need to then move that cart somewhere once I've put away all the things on it.

That seems like a reasonable amount of things to expect to complete today. OK I need to get out from under this cat because I have to pee now. All right. She'll be fine she just wants the chair really.

Yah ok i really gotta pee and dude is in the shower so i'm going to go get dressed and dance around a little lolsob. wish me luck.

#about the author #B vs ADHD

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