#just wish that fucking anybody would treat me with any respect or like they care
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Sigh… you assholes will never learn that wishing death on people you hate is absolutely stupid. No matter how much you say that you wish her misery and angst, JKR will always be known to all the world as an amazing woman who stood up for the rights of both genders, all races, all sexualities, and the validity of biological sex 🥰 You’ll never shut up about your shit opinion of her and you’ll harass her amazing supporters and HP fans. Bye bye you’re invalid 😘
Jesus Christ the terfs are after me now lmao
No one said that ‘biological sex’ was invalid, it very much is a real thing and is also much more flexible than you likely think, it’s driven by a wide range of biological factors (not JUST chromosomes as many will have you believe, but rather a myriad of different biological factors, such as hormones. See intersex ppl lmao).
Biological sex is of course a real thing, however when it comes to one’s own identity gender dysphoria is a phenomenon that occurs in many ppl and can only really be treated through transition, be it social, physical, etc. As someone who experiences a lot of gender dysphoria as well as clinical depression, I can tell you that before receiving any form of gender-affirming care my daily life was significantly harder to get through and my suicidal ideation considerably more frequent. (I would also like to note that many cisgender individuals also experience gender dysphoria related to not feeling like they comply to how ‘the idea man/woman’ looks or is, my god its common among gymbros, and very much tied to body dysmorphia that many of them face, a lot of the time.)
The concept of sex cannot be ‘erased’, as sex is real ofc?? Who told u it wasn’t?? (Though it does have much more nuance than many are lead to believe). But gender identity is a separate thing that is honestly more beneficial for you and everyone around you to respect.
JKR is also well-known for her inclusion of many antisemitic stereotypes in her books, movies, and carried through video game. This can be seen quite clearly through a basic examination of the characteristics of the ‘goblins’, with nasty caricatures of Jewish people echoing through. (My god just read about the ‘Goblin Rebellion’ in the game where you’re meant to suppress the uprising of the goblins from literal slave labour).
In terms of racism/classism in the HP series, I’d recommend giving this a read:
(She also very much falls into profiting off of gay rep without actually having any gay rep and very much using identity for profit - see the Dumbledore situation)
With her strange and continuous transphobic rants, and everything listed above, I know may be SUPER HARD to understand why I, queer, trans person (or really anyone with a shred of insight and empathy) may have a BIT of a problem with JKR.
Also, I do not wish death upon her, as I could never really find it in myself to wish harm upon anybody, however, I do wish that she would shut the fuck up.
Hope this helped =^}
#ALSO all her fascistic principals are a bit Not Good imo#i dont think this is well-written but I hope the point gets across#also I would like to note that outside of the jkr stuff I’m not too well read up on some of these issues so I apologise#for any indiscrepancies#but like point is she’s hurt a lot of ppl man#jk rowling#tw jk rowling#jkr#anti jkr
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He’s had enough. More than enough now. It’s time he fought back.
... ... ... ... ...
“... Because you are fun.”
“Is that all?”
“What more do you want me to say, Kane? I value you.”
“As a friend?”
“... If you wish for that then yes.”
“You don’t care.”
“I care for very little. Now, on your knees.”
Self-loathing. Hatred. He felt dirty that night, more so than ever. He knew Jax gave no shits about anybody and anything except himself and his partner, the latter of who is just as bad; both had treated him like dirt, especially Jax himself, from just after day one. And still he had always crawled back, lured in by promises of pleasure and fun, and maybe the premise of being told he’s worth something.
‘I will not do it again’. And it was always bullshit. So says the scar on his back, an initial of ‘J’ carved deep near his fleshy hip. That was when Jax had gone too far and Kane had strayed from visiting for as long as possible. But of course, the older man had caught up to him, said he wouldn’t do it again.
But he did. He pushed every boundary every single damn time. And it was all lapped up like a dog. And he felt like a dog, one that just wouldn’t abandon his master. And for why?
Was it truly fear? Fear of being hurt more? ... Or fear of having not a single damn person in the world that would help him if worse came to worse and he needed support? No. He had nobody at all other than Jax, someone with power both physically and behind his back.
‘I care for very little.’
Jax just didn’t care for him and it hurt to think about, made his chest ache. Because he likes Jax in some ways, thinks he’s fun and handsome, but also a complete asshole he’d rather do without. In fact, no. He hates the guy so much, just likes him for sex. And that’s bad. He never ever said sorry for anything. Not one single thing.
... ... ... ... ...
“You’re not welcome here anymore, Kane.”
Another person who he kind of liked who had only used him, and it was just one fuck up and he was kicked out of Umbra. He had done everything for Debito to the best of his ability. While yes, he had softened and slacked that last year, he still had more under his name that he had done brilliantly. All those years of serving the leader, wanting nothing more than a pat on the back, and maybe something else, and he was tossed out without a single care. Not even a moment of consideration to keep him. No. He was worthless. Completely and utterly worthless. Used.
... ... ... ... ...
“You’re so mature for your age!”
“Come on! Let’s break in here...”
He cringed. No. He can’t think about those people just yet. However... He scribbles down their names one by one, all seven, as his hands shake and tears spill from his eyes. Weak and pathetic of him to cry, but he can’t help it.
“We love you, Kane~”
“Our proper lil’ pal!”
A shudder. More people who had just used him without care. Is that all he’s good for? To be used by people, pushed around, and then to be discarded? It surely felt like it. Seven people, Jax, Debito... Not a single shit was given about him from any of them.
He takes a deep breath, places the pen down on the paper, smudges a tear across the blank space. He has to stop being so damn weak and pathetic and actually stand up for himself, demand the respect he deserves, stop letting people use him, and push away all the bad shit. Because if he continues like this then he will surely spiral further down and down into this pit he’s already started digging where self-hatred is helping him fall deeper every day.
From tomorrow he will start planning on what to do with these people.
Tomorrow things change. Tomorrow he will no longer be a pushover weakling.
Tomorrow.
But for now... He drinks away the sorrows.
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maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33
I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙
The One Where They're There For Her
Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)
Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)
Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.
Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)
Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.
That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.
Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.
Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.
"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.
"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.
Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.
"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.
Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.
"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.
"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.
"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.
Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.
"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"
And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.
-------
A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !
Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69
#one direction x reader#one direction x sixth member#one direction imagines#one direction fanfiction#one direction#harry styles x reader#liam payne x reader#louis tomlinson x reader#niall horan x reader#zayn malik x reader#imthebadguyyytags#harry styles#niall horan#liam payne#louis tomlinson#zayn malik
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Am I remembering correctly that Louis expressed discomfort at being referred to as daddy during bty promo? I thought I remembered that but I can’t find the video or anything so maybe I am remembering wrong. Or was it instead about being referred to as a father? God, I wish I could find the video…do you remember at all?
This would probably make me prudish to a lot of people but I am not a fan of calling celebrities daddy or getting really sexual about a person. Especially not to their face. This includes Harry by the way. It can be harmless, sure, and that I don’t mind but then so many take it way too far and they add it to everything that person does, in a way which to me seems creepy. If you want to tweet it or message it to your friends, I would not care. It’s all more annoying with larries because they will criticise the ones who treat Harry like that but then double down and do it to Louis. And I hate to say it, but Harry’s recent actions have encouraged it. He read the signs before he said them out loud. He knew what he was interacting with. Do I think that person should have called it out at the movie promo event? Not at all. Larries were mad about it and I understand but it does make me sad because I just don’t trust they would have the same energy for Louis if something similar happened at a promo event. They very well could but the way some larries talk about Louis…they treat him exactly like the treatment they complain about from non-Larries towards Harry
Yeah, he was weirded out by it in an interview (it might’ve been a Buzzfeed thing), but I can’t remember if that was 2017 or 2019. Regardless, I totally agree with everything you mentioned. Harry’s chosen to acknowledge “daddy” signs on multiple occasions now and has liked a happy father’s day tweet, though that of course doesn’t give people the right to call it out to him at other events. It’s just basic human decency and respect. In contrast, Louis has never shown any desire to be a sex symbol so the fact that fans treat him that way is uncomfortable to watch. Even more so because it often is certain Larries who do it even though they’re furious when anybody treats Harry that way. They were even angry with HARRY for choosing to acknowledge daddy signs because they felt it was encouraging those fans who sexualize him - even though that was Harry’s own choice, but then they turn around and call Louis “daddy” every time he breathes. And they’ll defend their behavior endlessly.
There’s also just a general obsession with sexualizing Louis in this corner of the fandom that I find very disturbing, and even more so when you compare it to peoples’ treatment of Harry. Harry writes songs about sex and dominating someone and has acknowledged multiple albums as having songs about sex, and people ignore it or come up with excuses for what the lyrics mean. Louis hasn’t written a sex song (that we’ve heard, at least) since he was in One Direction over seven years ago, but you constantly see people talking about how they want sex songs from him. Most recently, there was even a viral tweet about how the true lyrics in WAOYF must have been “can we please get back to fucking” even though that doesn’t make sense in the context of the song. Harry enjoys showing off his body (as he should, considering how hard he works to be in incredible shape) and often wears shirtless outfits that show off his abs and pecs, but if you point that out, people act like you’re a het Harrie and get angry about it. Louis covers himself up as much as possible most of the time, yet you see people wanting him to go shirtless on stage and sexualizing the hell out of him when he’s just trying to go swimming, like we saw when he was in a bathing suit in Spain and Iceland earlier this year.
It’s a double standard that really bothers me and always has. Despite how much some Larries pretend to have a moral high ground, there is a group, and it’s often the most popular Larries (I could name names, but I’m sure you know who I’m referring to) who treat Louis the way that het Harries treat Harry. They treat Louis more as some kind of sex object and one half of their fantasies for Louis and Harry’s sexual relationship than a person who, in my opinion, has shown that he is not interested in being a sex object to his fans. He’s interested in making music and he seems to want a friend or sibling relationship with us, and he deserves for that to be respected by people who are his fans.
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DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [PROLOGUE]
Monologue
The most painful thing in this world,
is losing your home. Your place-to-be.
No matter how dire the situation,
if you are surrounded by people who love and care for you.
No obstacle is invincible.
Then ーー Where do I belong?
Having long lost the place I once considered home.
I spent many years in a place which would provide for me.
I had food, a roof above my head, a warm bed to sleep in at night.
But could I truly call this my home?
Those doubts would lurk in the back of my mind, keeping me up at night.
Until one day, I was made a special offer.
If I complied, I would be given the thing my heart longs for the most.
ーー A new home.
Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Outside
Sharon: This is the place, right...?
( Woah...Amazing. I’ve never seen a house quite this big. They even have a garden! )
*Knock knock*
Sharon: Excuse meー! My name’s Sharon. I’m supposed to move in here today!
...
...
( No response...? How strange. They should have been informed through the Church. )
*Knock knock*
Sharon: Hello...? Anybody home...!?
Sharon: ( What to do...? There doesn’t seem to be anyone home right now. It’s already getting dark. I can’t just stand here all night either. )
*Creaaaaak*
Sharon: ...Huh? Did the...door just open by itself?
( Does that mean I can go inside? I feel a little hesitant just entering someone else’s home butーー I was told I could live here so it should be fine, right? )
She enters the manor.
Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Entrance Hall
Sharon: Just as I thought, the inside is equally spacious. I can’t imagine just one person living in such a large house all by themselves. Cleaning must take quite some time as well.
She puts down her suitcase.
*Thud*
Sharon: Phew...
( ...It’s so quiet. Almost as if the house is deserted. I wonder if the owner is out at the moment? In that case, I should probably wait in the living room. )
Sharon looks around.
Sharon: I guess it’s...that way?
*Rustle*
Sharon: ...!!
( I...Did I just...step on something? It felt...strangely soft and... )
???: ーー Oi.
Sharon: ...Kyah!
Sharon: ( A person...!? Oh my gosh. I just arrived here and the first thing I do is step on someone! )
???: ...
Sharon: I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t think there would be someone lying on the floor and...!
( ...Speaking of which, what were they doing down there anyway!? ...Sleeping? No way, right? When you have a house this large, you definitely don’t need to use the floor as a bed... )
???: Haah...
Sharon: Oh no! Are you feeling ill, perhaps? In that case, I shall call a doctor right away!
???: ...You’re loud. How am I supposed to enjoy my Rachmaninov when you’re screaming the place down?
Sharon: Rach...mani...? ...E-Either way, if you’re not feeling sick, then what were you doing on the floor?
???: Wasting his time away listening to music rather than making himself useful, per usual, I would assume. Well, I suppose it is best not to have any expectations of this man in the first place, as he will only let you down in the end.
Sharon: ...!?
( A voice...? Out of nowhere...!? )
Sharon: ...Wah!!
( Where did he come from...? )
???: Now, who might you be?
Sharon: Ah...I’m sorry! My name’s Sharon. I’m an orphan at the Catholic orphanage downtown. I was told by our related Church that the resident of this manor has been so kind to take me in. Are you...perhaps the owner?
???: ...I see. It seems you are the next...sacrifice.
Sharon: Excuse me?
???: Nothing. I was simply talking to myself. ...Ahem. My name is Sakamaki Reiji. The second eldest son of this family and one of the residents here. ...The man you had the ‘honor’ of meeting earlier is Shuu. While you may not suspect so given his deplorable behavior, he is - quite unfortunately - my elder brother.
Sharon: Reiji-san...and Shuu-san, was it? It’s a pleasure meeting you both!
Shuu: ...
Reiji: I assume that is your luggage over there? A room has been prepared for you. We will have one of our servants bring everything upstairs.
Sharon: Thank you very much!
( Thank god...So there wasn’t any mistake after all. )
Sharon: Oh! Right! I actually brought a little gift with me! They’re homemade muffins I made this morーー
*CRASH*
Sharon: ーー ning...!?
Startled by the loud noise, she drops the box with muffins.
*Thud*
???: YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD!! I swear once I get my hands on youーー!
???: Ahaha! I can’t believe you actually fell for that one! Lame-o!
Reiji: ...
Shuu: Haah...
Sharon: ( H-Hold on, hold on, hold on! Eh? Eeeeh!? I’m not dreaming, right!? That person just punched a hole through the wall!? )
Reiji: Ahem. ...Allow me to introduce. The one who destroyed the wall is the youngest son, Sakamaki Subaru. Next to him is Sakamaki Ayato, the eldest of the triplets.
ーー You two, explain this situation at once!
Ayato: ...Che. Reiji. I didn’t do anythin’! Not my fault that Subaru ate those prank chocolates I left out on the kitchen counter.
Subaru: Fuck off! You definitely did that on purpose! ...I can still feel my mouth burnin’...!!
Sharon: ( ...Prank chocolates? I guess he means those filled with mustard and other spicy condiments, right? I didn’t know people actually bought those. )
Ayato: Of course! I was hopin’ to catch Kanato. Can you imagine what kinda face he would make when poppin’ one of those bad boys in his mouth?
???: ...Say, did you hear that, Teddy? ...I hope Ayato sleeps with one eye open tonight. He might just run into...unfortunate accident.
Sharon: ...Eh!?
( Another person just appeared out of thin air!? )
Ayato: Keh. The lunatic’s here.
Reiji: Sakamaki Kanato, the middle triplet.
...Kanato, If you wish to commit a homicide, please do so outside of the walls of this manor. It takes forever to remove blood stains from the carpet.
Kanato: I don’t recall having to take orders from you.
ーー However, you’re lucky as I happen to be in a good mood right now. I believe I heard someone mention muffins?
Sharon: ...Ah, yes! I made these myse...Huh? ...Oh.
Shuu: It’s not blood, but I think the carpet will need some cleaning regardless.
Reiji: Good grief...
Sharon: Oh no...! The box must have slipped from my fingertips when I heard the sudden crash and...
Ayato: Ah-ahー Look what you did, Subaru. It’s always the youngest child causin’ trouble.
Subaru: HAAH!? All of this started ‘cause you left those stupid chocolates out!
Sharon: ...They turned out really good too. What a shame.
Subaru: ...!! ...O-Oi...You...Um...My bad.
Kanato: ...Unforgivable.
Sharon: Eh?
Kanato: ...HOW WILL YOU MAKE THIS UP TO ME!?
Sharon: ( W-Why is he getting upset at me all of a sudden!? It was obviously just an accident!? )
Um...I’m not sure...I could make some new ones later?
???: There, there, Kanato-kun~ Relax! Even if the muffins were wasted, there’s a delicious snack just waiting to be devoured...
*Rustle*
Sharon: ...!
( Someone wrapped their arms around me from behind!? )
???: ...Right here~ ...Nfu~
Sharon: ...Eh!?
( I-Is he talking about me!? )
Reiji: ...And finally, the youngest triplet, Sakamaki Laito.
Ayato: Oi, Laito! No way you’re gettin’ the first taste again! I still haven’t forgotten last time!
Laito: Eeeh~? It’s not my fault you’re so slow, Ayato-kun~ However, if you’re so insistent on taking a bite out of her, I wouldn’t mind sharing, you know? I’m sure it’d make for a refreshing and thrilling experience~
Ayato: Geh! In your dreams, you perv!
Sharon: ( Taste? Bite...? Why are they talking as if I’m their food!? )
Excusーー
Shuu: ...Strawberries.
Sharon: Eh?
Kanato: What are you talking about? I don’t see any strawberries around.
Reiji: Shuu. Explain yourself.
Shuu: Your panties. They had strawberries on them.
Sharon: ...!!
( When did he...!? Ah! When I stepped on him...! )
Ayato: Pfftー!! Strawberries! How old are you, five? That’s hella lame!
Laito: Hm...~ Strawberries are not bad but with such a lovely body, I’m sure you could pull off something a little more erotic~
Subaru: ...
Laito: Oh, my bad~ I forgot baby bro was in the room. I suppose talking about a woman’s underwear is still a little too much for him to handle.
Subaru: S-Shut up...!!
Reiji: ...Enough! No more on this topic! ...Haah. Is it really that much to ask for you lot to behave? Just for one day?
Ayato: ーー Anyway, Reiji. Who’s this chick anyway? Tonight’s dinner?
Sharon: D-Dinner...!? I’m sorry but...Why are you all talking as if I’m food or something!?
Ayato: Shut it! Nobody asked for your opinion, Ichigo Pantsu.
Sharon: I-Ichigo paーー!? I have a name...! ...It’s Sharon.
Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I-chi-go Pa-n-tsu.
Laito: Hm~ This Bitch-chan does smell sweet just like strawberries. Perhaps I should call you ‘Ichigo-chan’ instead~?
Kanato: She really does. I’m sure her blood would taste just as sweet...Oh? What’s that, Teddy? You’d like to have a taste? Fufu...Good idea. I was just feeling a little peckish myself.
Reiji: Haah...I shall be in my study room. ...Ayato, Kanato, Laito. Please treat our new resident with some respect. It would be a shame to lose another one so soon.
Sharon: ...Wait, please! I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp the situation yet!
Reiji: Haah...Good grief. You must not be very smart, are you? Did you truly believe you would be allowed to stay here for free?
Sharon: ...Eh?
Laito: Nfu~ He’s right, Ichigo-chan. Everything in this world comes at a price. In your case...That would be the delicious blood pumping through your veins...
Sharon: M-My blood...?
Ayato: Heh. You seriously haven’t realized?
Kanato: Teddy...Humans are truly so foolish, aren’t they?
Subaru: Che...Stop beatin’ ‘round the bush already and just tell her.
Shuu: We are Vampires. So the only thing a human such as yourself would have to offer, is your blood.
Reiji: In return, you will be allowed to stay here in this manor. Food, clothes and all other daily necessities willl be provided as well.
Sharon: Vam...pires? That must be some sort of joke, right? It was the Church who arranged this place for me! They would neverーー!
Besides...Vampires only exist in fairytales!
Reiji: Good grief. This is why I simply cannot deal with humans. Not only are they incredibly foolish, they are horribly naive and trusting as well.
Subaru: In other words, you were set up. Just deal with it.
Sharon: ...
( No way, right...? This has to be some sort of mistake? Or a bad dream...? )
Shuu: Pwaah...Anyway, you guys do as you please. I’m going to my room to nap.
Subaru: I’m leaving too.
Reiji: Well then, if you’d excuse me now.
The three of them leave.
Sharon: ...
Laito: Oh dear~? Is that despair I see in your eyes? You poor little thing! Don’t worry, Laito-kun wil make sure to comfort you. After all, there is no better cure for betrayal than pleasure.
Ayato: Don’t be so down, Ichigo Pantsu! It’s not that bad of a deal! You get to offer your blood to Yours Truly after all!
Kanato: Fufu...I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. If you’re lucky, you might even make it into my precious collection one day~
Sharon: ...!!
She suddenly pushes them away.
*THUD*
Ayato: ...Woah!?
Laito: ...Aah~ Not bad, Ichigo-chan! I like myself a feisty girl at times!
Kanato: Ugh! ...What are you doing!? I nearly dropped Teddy just now.
Sharon: ...
She runs upstairs.
Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway
Sharon: Haah, haah, haah...
( Say, God...? )
( Is this my penalty...? )
( Are you punishing me for my crimes of the past...? )
Monologue
I just kept on running and running.
As said question repeated itself inside my head.
That must be it.
Those guys were exactly right.
Humans are foolish. I was foolish.
Foolish to believe I would be given a new home.
After all, people like me.
ーー They don’t deserve a happy ending.
ーー PROLOGUE: END ーー
[ Dark Prologue ] ->
#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers oc#sharon's route#(( aaaah it's starting !! ))#(( feedback is welcome and encouraged <33 ))#(( this general prologue focuses on her arrival at the S manor and her first meeting with the boys ))#(( dark prologue will touch upon her backstory a little and her first time attending the academy ))#(( then the other dark scenarios will develop her relationship with all 6 brothers through different scenarios ))#(( if there's a specific idea you have for a fun scenario idea ))#(( please let me know!! ))
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Dark!Mob!Thor x Pregnant!Reader Future and Slight Loki x Pregnant!Reader
Warnings~ 18+, Dark, Angst, Language, Attempt of Seducing(?), Choking (Non-sexual), Abuse, Violence, This shit is deep y'all
A/N: Hiiiiii I'm backkk! Thanks for all the love on the last one so here's one I just came up with. I was just brainstorming ideas ngl. Another thing I am new to Tumblr, I found it in the middle of March and I don't know how to like link a part 2 ya know. Cuz I want this story to have a part 2 so I will figure it out lol. Enjoy!
*Not my GIF*
Ever since you met the mobster he was sweet and gentle with you. So caring, nothing lime how he is to his enemies. For a year Thor has been the same person you met and more but now it felt like him and his feelings are drifting away.
You found out you were pregnant two weeks ago but Thor hasn’t given you the time of day so you could sit him down and tell him. Claiming he was busy with work. It has also been awhile since the two of you had sex. You thought to yourself that maybe he was stressed, drowning in work and all. So you decided to try and help him out.
Knocking on the door twice you immediately here a ‘Come in.’ from and deep grumpy voice that was obviously Thor’s. You turned the door knob and stepped inside seeing Thor’s head buried in papers stacked up on top of his desk. You sigh quietly shutting the door and gliding closer to his desk.
“Speak, don’t waste my time.” You gulped. “Hi baby.”
“What Y/n, can’t you see I’m busy now.”
“Thor you seem to be under a lot of stress now baby I would just like to help you out.” You purr.
“Y/n how would you help me? You don’t know anything about the Mob.” He raises his voice.
“Look if you have no real reason to be in here then leave.” By now you notice he is running quickly out of patients. You are almost in his eye sight on the side of his desk now. Grazing your finger tips along important stacks of papers.
You chuckle lightly. “No Thor not like that. Just let me finish telling you bub. Can you look at me, please?”
He sighs and turns his chair towards you. He frowns even more. Your body covered in lacey red lingerie, leaving little to the imagination. Showing off all your curves and imperfections. You can still fit your clothes due to you baby bump not showing because it is still early in the pregnancy.
“Come on honey, taking a break let me help you relax.” You move forward straddling his lap. Fingers running through his long locks of beautiful blonde hair.
He rolls his eyes, which is a surprise to you and makes you frown.
“Y/n I don’t have the time for this!” This time he yells and this action makes you flinch so you immediately stand up with your head down staring at your bare feet.
“I’m sor-” He cuts you off. “No don’t you fucking get it woman! I don’t want your company. Leave me to do my work so I can give you a better life. I pay for all the shit you have and you can’t even let me do my job! Get the hell out now!”
You’re shocked, he has never used that tone with you or those choice of words. It felt like he was treating you as if you worked for him. You’re his girlfriend not just some anybody that he could raise his voice to.
You knew what you were about to say would possibly hurt his ego or yourself, but he needed to be brought down a peg or two.
“Why are you yelling at me like I did something wrong! What crawled up your ass and died? You selfish prick! I was trying to do something nice for you to get you out of this hell-hole you put yourself in! ASSHOLE!”
As soon as you were finished he bolted out of his chair and wrapped his hand around your neck slamming your back against the wall behind you. You couldn’t believe what was happening and your body went into panic as his grip hot tighter the more you struggled. All you could think about was if he was going to kill you or not, if you were going to get out of here alive and about your unborn baby.
“P-please no.”
“How dare you speak those words to me. DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM BITCH!? I AM THE KING OF THE MOB, I COULD HAVE YOU DEAD AT THE SNAP OF MY FINGER!”
He let you drop to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Tears rolling down your eyes, devastated and defeated you tried to stand up but was kicked down in the back by a furiated Thor.
“By midnight I want you and all your shit put out my house. You’re lucky I’m letting you keep it. Now scram.”
Your heart broke in millions of pieces on the spot from when he first raised his voice at you. It was hard getting off the floor but even harder to accept that the father of your unborn child has kicked you out of the house and even had the audacity to put his hands on you like he said he never would. That empty promise you should've known it was all a lie. You should have never given him a chance. All of those talks about your future together was bullshit. All of the talks about you being his wife one day bullshit. And to tie it all together the talks about starting a family together was absolute bull-fucking-shit.
Bursting through the room you shared with him bought back all of the sweet memories of the love making, when one of you were sick in bed and the other took care of them, the cuddles, the arguments, the playful fighting, the empty promises, the crying, the laughter. It all hit you at once it made you drop to your knees sobbing into your palms confused.
What made him not love you anymore? What made him put his hands on you? What made him tip over the edge to lash out on you like that? Where would you go? Who would you call?
You were so stressed out with questions and overwhelming feelings you had to remember that you were pregnant and had to convince yourself to calm down. Fifteen minutes of deep breaths you gathered yourself and got your composure back to normal.
Jeans and a sweatshirt was what you slipped on. Pulling out two suitcases from under the bed you started packing. Looking at the time it was 11:39pm so you closed the suitcases and zipped up duffle bags. Heading downstairs you saw your good friend Heimdall reaching for your hand to help you down the last step.
“May I take that from you Ms.Y/l/n?” You sighed handing them to him knowing that he would have gotten it anyway.
He frowned noticing your pained expression. Your back starting to hurt now.
“Y/n are you alright? You seem to be in pain.”
“N-no I’m fine I just need to go.”
“Are you going on a trip? Why so many bags?”
You sighed at the reminder.
“No Heimdall I won’t be back, thank you for doing for me and being a wonderful friend but I’m afraid that it is my time for a new chapter in my life. Please do not ask any questions I do not feel like speaking on it at the moment.” Heimdall nodded respecting your wishes as he escorted you to your car.
“Thank you Heimdall.” You whisper quietly. “Farwell and no, thank you.” You had no idea how much he appreciated you for coming into Thor’s life and opening your heart to him to show and teach Thor how to love and care. You truly did turn Thor’s life around and it showed.
You pulled him in for a hug as you climbed into the drivers seat. Unsure of where to go. You pulled out of the driveway of the mansion. Once you were on the road you had no idea who to call, you gave up your family and friends for Thor. So you called the only person you knew would take you in.
Loki.
#thor x reader#thor odison imagine#dark thor#thor angst#im back#marvel fic#marvel imagine#mob au#loki#likemypost#followme
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The Rules of Engagement (3/5)
The Better Love Series
pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)
summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.
words: 3.4k
warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.
a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
MASTERLIST
Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.
You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.
It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.
For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.
You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.
It keeps your brain busy, too.
Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.
And then there’s Javi.
You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.
The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.
God, as if you could make it more awkward.
You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”
Asshole.
Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.
I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.
Yeah, right.
God, though, but you miss him.
You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.
So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.
Now, though, you’ve got no choice.
You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.
Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.
You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.
Until early this morning.
On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.
Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.
You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.
Bingo.
“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”
So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.
‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’
As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.
Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.
“Agent Peña.”
He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.
"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.
You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.
You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”
He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”
Oh, so that’s how it is, then?
“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”
He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”
Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”
Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”
He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.
God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.
His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.
When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”
And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.
All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.
Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.
But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.
Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.
“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”
Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.
When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.
♠
Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.
“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”
“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.
You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.
Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.
You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.
The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.
It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.
This is legit.
You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.
“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”
Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.
You think it might be an apology.
“Let’s end this.”
♠
He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.
Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.
‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.
He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.
Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.
♠
You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.
One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.
From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.
Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.
By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.
Somebody will page you with news.
Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.
Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.
Everything will be okay.
You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.
“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”
You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.
A loud boom.
A whoosh of impossible heat.
A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.
Your body flying, flying through the air.
Bright blue sky, and then darkness.
♠
You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.
You blink hard.
It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.
It’s fucking ash.
The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.
Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.
You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.
Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.
Reality slams into you all at once.
Emilio!
You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.
Oh god.
A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.
You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.
“Emilio! Emilio!”
Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.
You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.
You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.
You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.
Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.
The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.
Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.
A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.
♠
You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.
Seconds?
Minutes?
The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.
Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.
Now what?
You take a shaking breath and think.
Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.
Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.
There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.
You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.
It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.
#Javier Peña x reader#javier peña#narcos#javi x you#javi x reader#javier pena x reader#narcos netflix#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#narcos fanfiction#Javier Peña imagine#pedro fandom#the rules of engagement#better love#angst#slow burn#friends to lovers#hurt/comfort#smut
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Do you think Basira and Daisy had a healthy relationship?
I am so glad you asked! I have had a lot of thoughts about their relationship, but had decided to shelve those thoughts because I was worried it would come off as me telling people to not ship Daisira, which is... not what I want to be doing. But you sent me an Ask and so I am compelled to answer!
My answer is: no. Their relationship is toxic in one of the most interesting ways I have seen portrayed in media.
This might be a bit confusing to hear, though. Normally when we call a relationship toxic, it means that one or both of the people involved are making each other feel bad. But Daisy and Basira seem to make each other feel... good. Basira is apparently Daisy’s last human attachment, and according to Elias in MAG 92, and “not being able to see Basira again” is one of Daisy’s biggest laments in the coffin. And on Basira’s end, Daisy seems to make Basira feel... secure. Supported.
From MAG 117:
BASIRA
But at least Daisy’s coming. I mean, I know she’s… difficult. Everything they say about her, it’s true, it’s fair. But, she’s solid. She’s a… a fixed point, and if she’s there, I know exactly where I stand, exactly what I’m doing, relative to her.
From MAG 178:
MARTIN
We’re here for you.
BASIRA
No. She was there for me.
So, “attachment to humanity” “support” and “security” are good things in a relationship, right? Their love for each other (whether you read it as completely platonic or not) seems genuine, and they put each other first. That should mean that their relationship is Good!
Wellllllll no. Sometimes, a relationship can feel good while also... trapping you in a harmful cycle, or stunting your growth as a person. Think: a friend who is charming and fun who you love to drink with--to the extent that, even when you’re trying to manage an alcohol addiction, you end up going into situations with them that trigger your urge to drink. Also think: a friend who keeps bringing you sugary food even after you’ve been diagnosed with serious diabetes with potential life-altering complications--because you like donuts, they used to make you so happy.
Daisy and Basira are that to each other. In particular--Basira’s attachment to Daisy draws Basira back into dangerous situations and, by extension, causes her fall deep into that “siege mentality” that shuts down Basira’s more thoughtful side.
When Jon confronts Basira about Daisy’s crimes in MAG 178, this exchange occurs.
MARTIN
[Loudly] Enough. Enough! Someone has died! Show some respect. Or don’t you care?
BASIRA
[Incensed] Of course I fucking care!
…
[Quieter] That’s the problem.
MARTIN
I… I don’t understand.
BASIRA
I just… I don’t need him laying everything out for me like I’m some kind of idiot. I know, all right.
I don’t think Basira is making anything up here to make herself seem better. Basira already knew there was a problem with the police, before Jon confronted her. She already knew Daisy was corrupt to some extent, even if she had trouble facing it head on. And--she already cared.
That’s why she quit. She didn’t need a revelation from Jon or anyone else to open her eyes. She didn’t even need to see harm happen to an innocent bystander. Instead, she saw how the higher ups were covering up the killing of Maxwell Raynor, of all people--
BASIRA
They’ve given us a few days ‘compassionate leave’. I think they just want us out of the way while they figure out the official version of what happened.
--and she quit after that.
So, here we already have someone who is coming into an understanding of the police as a flawed system without anyone needing to tell her. Here we have someone who is already extricating herself from that system, because she cares about her impact on other people. From this point, she could easily have gone her own way, taken time to reflect and never hurt anyone again.
So what brings her back into the whole mess in MAG 88?
BASIRA
I’m looking for Daisy.
MARTIN
Oh for – Okay, I don’t know where she is! I don’t know where anybody is! Why does everyone… okay, why does everyone think that I always know where everyone is, all the time?!
BASIRA
Alright, okay, alright, sorry. They just… well, they said at the station that this was the last place she checked in.
--Her relationship with Daisy, of course!
She wants to leave the supernatural and the police behind. She tells Jon the Institute is bad (MAG 73) but she walks back in because she’s worried about Daisy. And then she throws herself right back in the fray to stop Daisy from killing Jon. Shortly after that, Basira has to sign herself off as a hostage to Elias…
ELIAS
She’s quite the killer, your partner. All in the public good, of course. And she was correct, I spent some time acquiring that evidence. Or creating it. And while your superiors don’t much care about the killings, the fact there is proof… They’re not happy. And they want you brought in.
--because of Daisy’s murders, Daisy’s reckless actions giving Elias leverage. Basira throws herself in with Daisy, and it draws Basira right back into a world of violence and the paranormal that she was trying to quit. It motivates her to, once again, cover for Daisy’s errors and justify them. This takes away any chance Basira could have had to gain distance from the violence, reflect, and get some perspective. Instead, she’s thrown right back into the siege.
Basira doesn’t even show any sign of frustration with Daisy at this. It’s not that Basira is 100% meek. We see her get frustrated with people later, express grievances, and hold people accountable later--but with Daisy she doesn’t do any of this. Instead, she immediately re-affirms that she’s on Daisy’s side.
BASIRA
Daisy, it’s… it’s okay. We’ll figure something out.
Of course, it’s not a one-way street, either. It’s not an uncomplicated “Basira good, Daisy toxic and bad” story. It’s a mutually reinforcing cycle where they are both complicit. We see that in season 4, when Daisy tries to stop feeding the hunt.
People like to rag on Basira for her actions in this season but... her actions are actually also more complicated than a simple story of “Basira sabotages Daisy’s progress.” Because Basira misses the more resolute Daisy, yes, and wishes she had a strong protector instead of another person to help... but even with that, she’s still willing to support Daisy’s progress away from the Hunt!
In MAG 133:
ARCHIVIST
You’re not happy she’s back.
BASIRA
I didn’t say that, John. I will never abandon Daisy, and… having her back is… (she sighs) But right now she’s dead weight, and I need to be able to travel light.
Basira wants someone powerful to protect her, is conflicted that she doesn’t have that but still will never abandon Daisy regardless. And, true to her word, she does support what Daisy is doing.
From MAG 140:
BASIRA
We’ve talked about it. If the Hunt takes her again, we don’t know if she’s coming back. And neither of us want that.
In MAG 146, she even praises Daisy’s path of resistance.
BASIRA
You didn’t know what you were doing.
[Daisy makes a pained sound, as if to contradict her, but stops.]
BASIRA
And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting.
So, Basira is--true to Elias’s word--being Daisy’s anchor to humanity. True to her own word, she’s having Daisy’s back, supporting her decision to quit the hunt even if it means Basira has less back up. So what changes?
MAG 155:
BASIRA
Because I’m not going to lose her.
ARCHIVIST
She goes hunting again, you might anyway.
BASIRA
And if she doesn’t, she might die.
Even at this point, Basira’s worst impulses are always about Daisy. Even when she undercuts Daisy’s progress, it’s about Daisy’s wellbeing. All she wants to do is make sure Daisy’s alive and okay, and to that end she will throw out all of her rationality and moral principles.
And then, when Daisy does finally give into the hunt, it’s for Basira.
It’s... funny to analyze and critique this behavior, because I have seen this sort of behavior in Jon/Martin fics treated as a sweet and romantic thing. You know, the “I want you to keep being a monster because I don’t want to lose you!” thing. And also the “prioritizing each other over everything else in the world” thing. Because the concept of unconditional support, of putting another person first above everything else in the world--it’s an alluring one.
But with Daisy and Basira, even though their relationship isn’t necessarily romantic, we see how harmful that mindset can be. How someone can care for you, prioritize you, make you feel like the whole world, and... the main effect of that is to stunt you, to give you so much comfort you never get out of a harmful cycle or change your behavior at all. How it can cause you to enable horrible things in the world, like police brutality.
That is the story of Daisy and Basira’s relationship. It’s about the effects of this cycle on Basira--yes, Basira specifically and not Daisy, even though the cycle is mutually reinforcing and affects them both.
Basira appears in nearly twice as many episodes as Daisy. Because of this, Basira is the one we see discussing the relationship and what it means to her. Basira is the one we see grappling with the psychological fallout of their relationship. It’s more Basira’s story than Daisy’s--not because she’s the “victim” or that she was morally pure but because... Basira is the one who ultimately grows past this.
After episode after episode of “she needs me” and “I can’t leave her” and “I can’t let her die”--after Basira endangering herself and stunting her own growth by centering Daisy
DAISY
Partner… Come…
[MORE FOOTSTEPS]
BASIRA
Not now. Not after everything.
--Basira finally breaks free, and moves on.
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Money, Money, Money Part 1
Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??
Words: 2578.
Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.
P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅
_________________
“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”
Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”
“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”
Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.
“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”
Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.
“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”
“You wouldn’t do that!”
Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.
“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”
“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”
“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”
Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.
There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.
After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.
_______________________________
Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.
Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.
Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.
Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.
"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.
"You're up early, Cinderella."
You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?
"Don't stand there, come in."
When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.
"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."
"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"
"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"
"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."
You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.
Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.
Oh God.
"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"
"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”
“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”
_______________________
Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...
Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.
As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.
Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.
“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”
Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.
“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”
Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.
“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”
“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”
Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.
Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.
“I’ve asked you a question.”
And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?
“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”
As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.
Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.
“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”
By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.
“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.
“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”
For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.
When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”
Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.
______________
Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @iheartsebandchris @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#steve rogers#peter parker#peter parker x reader#winter soldier#mcu#crack fic#mcu fanfiction
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BFCD Reviews by Nesha: Final Space, Season 3
Everybody that know me know that I’m high class #Quillective trash and my main thoughts and feelings go out to Quinn Ergon and Gary Goodspeed - precious Gemini gems, and of course the BABIES: Little Cato, Ash and Fox #NeshaLuhDaKids I had some attachment to Avocato once upon a time, but that n***a got on my LAST nerves this season, so we currently at “Do you, Boo” status by the end of S3, and eventually, yes, I’ma get to why that is.
Disclaimer for somebody who stumbled across this post because of the fandom tags - I am an independent partaker of this content, not “part of the fandom,” and my audience in particular is NOT for everybody. SO: If you may have been criticized in the past for casual racism, tone deafness to Black women’s concerns or accused of misogynoir or antiblackness, leave now.
If you don’t like cussing, AAVE, general ratchetness and mean lesbian energy, you too might wanna go. A bitch can be eloquent, but I type like I talk, at times, so it is what it is and I don’t curate for kids, dudes, or nonblacks. That’s just what that is.
I wanna start with Ash Graven. This season is about Ash more than anybody else, despite the fact that there was a lot of emphasis on Avocato’s toxic ass man pain and growth in Quinn and Gary’s relationship, ULTIMATELY, nobody in the crew did more coming into fruition as Ash did, and I have a lot to say about her, because I have a lot of feelings.
♡ Ash Graven
1. Ash is a kid. Lol. Everybody got very confused because of the unnecessary transformation that Invictus gave her. Ash did not “grow up,” her body was altered. That’s a fuckin kid in a woman’s body. A kid who has previously been living with survivor’s guilt, parental abuse/neglect/exploitation, chronic trauma, and a disastrous superpower that most people could not be trusted to carry. She’s a child having a coming of age moment in this season that is mostly molded in manipulation. If you hate on Ash, go fuck yourself. ESPECIALLY if I’ve caught you stanning other characters who have been shit characters, in this fandom or not. Ash was dealt a shit hand and nobody had her back but her brothers, and she’s done what she could and thought was best to care for them. Anybody that missed that - just don’t have kids, K.
2. Ash has no parental guidance. As far as she knows, the only adults who have ever had her back are dead and the ones that she’s stuck with now, she GAVE a chance to try to trust them. She gave Quinn a chance to try to see some of Nightfall (the only adult that we’ve seen not exploit her) in her. She gave Gary a chance by choosing him over Clarence, when she had to make a choice. She even gave Clarence’s ass another chance - with which he responded by dying to not fail her. Now, she has Gary, who just a few days or weeks ago, idek, forced her to try to summon her powers while she was both injured and also upset over having to leave her brother behind - TO SAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND! And she got snatched away in the process and left behind with the enemy, to be mentally assaulted and returned changed, only to have them not trust her.
I love Quinn too. I love her dearly. But the facts were that she was dying and having an episode that nobody could really help with, and Gary didn’t take the time or consideration to think about the stress that he was putting on Ash by putting her in the position to make her feel like she needed to save Quinn for him. Whether or not she was the only one who could, that is a lot to put on a child, and not only did he do it, but he didn’t even seem to think that hard about it whenever he then left her ass. Sure, he was glad when she was returned, but that was a fucked up situation that yet another adult put her into, and the first thing that he should have wanted to do when seeing her was to apologize and try to make it right. It was a huge miscalculation to treat her as a potential enemy that he and Avocato needed to vet. EVEN IF that’s what she was to them, both of them should have had the sense to assess while still treating her as the kid that they supposedly knew.
3. Most of her trauma has been recent and continuous. She looked up to Nightfall, watched her die, and had a meltdown. The events from Season 2 (with Clarence almost killing Fox and leaving him to die, her leaving his side to help out, seeing that Sheryl was treacherous to her own son, losing Nightfall), and the events that are taking place in Season 3 are only in the span of a few months.
They were only stranded for a month whenever we see them surviving together. That girl has had more happen to her to hurt her than to help her and nobody around her BUT Little Cato has been sensitive to that. And they are all fucking adults.
These things being noted - changing Ash’s design was the absolute worse fucking thing. Aging a girl up to make the bad things that follow more palatable is what that seems to be. Ash is still a kid. And THEN, they allegedly made her a queer kid. I say allegedly, because that “reveal” was so poorly done and subtle and weak that I, an almost 40 year old queer, didn’t realize that that’s what they meant whenever they said that they were gonna reveal somebody as a character who is part of the LGBT community.
So... FS production just gon’ decide not only to transform her body into that of a woman, when her mind is still full on traumatized child and hormonal teenager, but also, she likes girls, and they didn’t even do it in a cohesive way that added to the story. They threw it in, like, “BTW, she likes girls, and also, she’s full grown now.” then immediately went for the “Villain” lever, and bitches just ate that shit up. Fuck y’all, forreal.
& Fox
He didn’t deserve that shit. And, I know a lot of people felt that he was pointless and boring, but his ass was sweet and caring and searching for love and acceptance. As a background character, I liked him. But, he was literally just fodder for Ash’s downfall, which was unfair and problematic, considering that his ass is definitely Black coded. Don’t play. He was voiced by a Black man, spoke with a blaccent, and definitely would be read as Black if you wasn’t looking at him and seeing an alien. They gave him a sacrificial negro trope, the big friendly negro that can kill you but loves everybody trope, and they used his death to just push some narrative forward to set up the one verified queer character as a villain. They got they ass in a vehicle and rolled right over another Black character, and another queer character. Chile...
♡ Little Cato!!!
My precious have not been getting some good for too long, and I have had it. He’s not focused on so much this season as he is in the background of other people’s stories, but a very important takeaway is and will always be that Little Cato, aside from Fox, really was the only one here who consistently treated her like she mattered, so it made a lot of sense that he could be the catalyst for her finally having ENOUGH with these people.
I really wish that he could have found out the truth about his past from Avocato, because that’s really who OWED him that truth, but Ash did the thing that I’d expect and told him, to be honest with him. She even told him that Avocato wanted to tell him and that she took that right away from him, because she didn’t believe he deserved it, and I’m respecting her for that, too. I wish she could see how much it hurt Little Cato for her to try to take him away from his home.
Little Cato has lived before, for a while, and he’s not mature enough to behave as a man, but he at least has a loving foundation to draw from, and having had that support, this is more of his home than it is Ash’s. He doesn’t know how to explain that to her, and she doesn’t know how to understand that for him. Just a tragic situation for two kids with a lot of problems.
♡ Quinn Ergon & Gary Goodspeed
Quinnary notes that might not be featured in the BFCD Reviews by Nesha: (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) rundown -
I've had two favorite parts of this season so far and they're very mediocre things that you wouldn't think would be like my favorite part but they are. One of them was that the first thing Gary does when she wakes up is to ask her about her sister (someone obviously very important to her who he's previously promised to allow to let live through Quinn's memory and says he wants to hear about her when he's trying to keep Quinn from dying). Because... He really did care and wasn't just saying something to keep her.
Quinn's mother fucked her up in a way that is so frustrating because Black mamas really will traumatize you about their younger kids. That shit hurt. You showed your daughter dead bodies to make her think about that in the event that your other daughter might be in battle? Bitch wtf
Whenever we say that Black girls are programmed to put everybody ahead of us, that's unfortunately not just including Society, it's in households too. And Quinn comes from this place where that is her reality... Then she meets Gary and he doesn't even register for her as anything special. He doesn't appear impressive or incredible in any way... But he (admittedly) weirdly locks on to her and shares himself - thinking that he's showing himself to her, and ultimately he DOES. And he wants to see her too, beyond all this, who she is, at her most humane. He wants to know about her sister. About someone who mattered to her enough to have the helm of her trauma when she was out of touch with reality. Very soft. Very sweet.
The other was when they were talking about how they met and stuff and Gary absolutely cringed thinking about how corny he was when he approached this woman. A lot of dudes never do that. The complaint of earlier seasons that Gary was overbearing, obsessive and creepy , if you missed the fact that he has terrible abandonment issues from his father’s death and his mother’s rejection, here we have him, in his adult state, looking back at the way he was and being embarrassed about it, and that’s growth!
A close third is whenever at the beginning of the Season he says "Quinn it's been a month eventually you have to open up to me about what you've been through" and she says "I will in time" and he respects it but he reiterates that he's there whenever she needs him. I don't think that people realize how revolutionary that kind of statement is especially for a character like Quinn to hear - who has always felt like she had to take charge, had to take the lead, had to make the sacrifice.
Even when she realized that she was dying, she didn't want to burden him with the information. Not even like ‘a thing that she knew if that could help prevent it and she didn't want him to have to go after it,’ but... she didn't even want him to have to deal with knowing about it!
Maybe she thought that she would just drop, maybe she didn't realize that he was going to have to see her in that condition. And then once she realized that he was going to have to see her in that condition one of the first things she says is "I should have told you." Girl is on her deathbed wishing she had done it differently, for Gary's benefit.
I saw somebody on Twitter tried to come for her about not going to Gary after he killed Fox (you know, shortly after her surgery to save her from the very brink of death, and listen... Quinn comes to see about Gary when she can. She’s done it several times. In fact, I’ma make a whole POST about Quinn and Gary moments SPECIFICALLY to point out to haters in the main tag - where they got Quinn Ergon, and by extension, me, FUCKED UP.
Stop Playing in Quinn Face
HI! HELLO. ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS SEASON IS THAT QUINN AND GARY JUST FUCKED. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. THANKS. OK. Back 2 bidness
See.. after Gary and Quinn got over the humps of Quinn’s Final Space poisoning... everyone got it... nobody told her until Avocato was mad and told her during a lash out, and let me say something about Avocato’s fucking audacity this season...
♡ Avocato (Note: His name is A-V-O-C-A-T-O. Some of y’all be tryna stan and y’all can’t even spell his name.)
I done seent Avacata, Avocata... That’s not that dude name. Be writing whole ass expositions about some other Ventrexian n*gga. Hope this helps:
AVOCATO. Listen, boy. YOU decided to be a traitor to your people and your king and queen. YOU decided to dedicate your cause to the Lord Commander and lied to your son his entire life about killing his parents, raising him, and never talking to him about it.
Yet and STILL - whenever you had the chance to finally tell him, you ain’t do the shit. Lord Commander gave you the perfect ass opportunity - WHEN IT CAME UP, and even then, with that boy looking you dead in the face and being glad that now he knows everything... you ain’t Ventrexian man up.
Then, whenever you were supposed to be checking on Gary after his traumatic murder fight with Fox and Invictus, you turned it around and literally made it about you. attacking him in the process and only after a physical fight did you apologize. (And y’all still didn’t get back to what had happened to Gary, which was no real fault of his own).
Fast forward to after you willingly agreed to stay behind and fight and y’all lost. Now, it was Quinn’s turn to be the center of your blame and you lashed out at her because everybody is dying, despite the fact that y’all agreed to stay behind and fight, nobody even told her that y’all were sick, AND you still wasn’t 100 with Little Cato.
You just had a lot of mothafuckin audacity this season, Avocato, and I personally was not here for the shit. Even when Ash blasted yo ass, your main thought was to threaten to kill her if she took Little Cato, instead of assuring her that despite what you’ve done, Little Cato was safe with you. No, she wouldn’t have listened to you. But, the words you chose tell us about who you are and how you are. You a war mongering killer that don’t ever take responsibility for his shit, and even in those brief moments that you do, its always somebody else’s problem.
I’da thunk that LC getting snatched away would be humbling for you, but I guess you were chosen by the writers for minimal growth. Bye, Avocato. Witcha bitch ass. We is not cool right now, but you do you. Hope you find some growth up there in ya ass, where ya head been. 😁 Can’t believe I mourned yo ass. You coulda stayed dead as hell.
FINALE NOTES:
OK BITCH OK THIS FINALE WAS HYPE!
Let me pull it up so that I can liveblog it for the shit that I need to conclude this journey.
We start out after Ash done took Little Cato and burnt off. Gary and AVOCATO done said they finna go get they son. Chile, I cannot handle Biskit voice. I like that lil’ dude but ya voice, Mane. I can’t with it.
OK OK OK... Whenever Quinn comes up to Gary to talk to him and say potential goodbyes, she look like she wanna say some and that makes me think about whenever she looked like she wanted to say something in season 1 and didn’t. Quinn as grown a lot in her feelings for Gary, but she still has that hard time with talking about her feelings, but I love that you can see them in her face.
Chile... these folk was kinda taking they time gettin started, huh? Knuckas, do y’all remember that everybody finna die of FS poisoning? Lol. Also... why didn’t they start hallucinating and shit? I guess its not until it covers ya face?
NIGHTFALL. 😥 I love you, Sis. I miss you. But, “Because I’m you and WE think of everything...” YES. I HAVE BEEN SAYING THAT! EVERYBODY EXPECTS QUINN TO THINK OF EVERYTHING AND WHENEVER THEY DON’T THINK OF THE THINGS, SHE GETS BLAMED FOR MAKING THE TOUGH DECISIONS THAT NOBODY ELSE COULD EVEN MAKE. Underappreciated, really. And people still mark Nightfall as a villain, despite the fact that she not only sacrificed herself, but also came specifically to help another Gary. Sidenote - Nightfall didn’t actually pursuit Quinn’s Gary until Quinn was trapped in Final Space and she thought she got a signal from him. So, I’m still salty AF that she been labelled as a villain just because people don’t like her, when her actions have all been to try to help. Here is no difference. She thought of the things that she didn’t think a younger version of her would think of, and left it for Quinn to find. Nightfall be on RNS, and most of y’all didn’t deserve her.
Quinn’s identity crisis is so sad, but I liked that Nightfall EVEN thought about that. And Sheryl... you kinda starting to grow on me. I hate to give shitty mothers who find compassion in old chance a try, but she do seem to really be giving it a go.
Ash is so fucked up that she rushes right into the devil’s arms. This reminds me of when trafficking victims go back to their abusers because they don’t have the resources to adjust in the system. 😪 She REALLY believes what she’s saying. She really feels like Little Cato is safer with Invictus with the Team Squad. That’s sad as fuck, bruh.
THE. ACTING. AND. ARTWORK. IN. THIS. CONFRONTATION. SCENE.
Avocato... I’m proud of you for FINALLY taking responsibility ad opening up about it. Little Cato’s reaction is precisely how kids in the system are, as well. They wanna be at home with their parents, no matter who their parents are or what they’ve done. and Avocato meant what he said and did what I referred to earlier as “Ventraxian man up.”
“I’m sorry we failed you,” from Gary was so important. Because, they technically did fail her. Had Ash seen the same amount of love from Gary as she’s seen him give to others, she might have been more receptive to the truth and less susceptible to lies. But, as she had just said earlier, it was too late for kind words. She’s currently beyond accepting them from him. For a brief moment, it breaks through, but without that ability to know love from an adult properly, she can’t accept that apology right now.
H.U.E. with his big robot, Lord Commander...EYE. There’s so much happening right now bitch processing has left the room girl. Biskit did so damn much this episode. And it was good to see everybody on the team have a moment to help things, instead of like one person having to handle the bulk of things.
Quinn’s begging voice... its such a contrast from whenever she sent out the SOS in season 1 and was afraid and angry. Like... the desperation here shows her softness.
Ash’s RAGE Bitch...
Gary’s “I love you...” She looked so happy! And then she just sat with it. I feel like she definitely loves him too, but she doesn’t communicate that way. But, her FACE. She was just... did she think that he didn’t before, or was she just speechless because she didn’t expect to hear it? Because, we gotta be real... Sis probably has not ever heard those words from anybody before. And that first time, when it’s really there is a DOOZIE. She had an abusive mother, a seemingly jealous or competitive sister, and we saw how nobody in the Infinity Guard respected her ass when she was serving them the real. I think this is the first time she’s been in love or felt it and when Gary said it, she had to collect herself. The way she ran to him and jumped into his arms??? SHIPPING CRACK. And Mooncake was a part of their hug too. I have a lot of feelings about this dynamic since Quinn and Mooncake are the only characters that we’ve seen Gary have these “love at first sight” reactions to and Mooncake is the first character that I recall Quinn being nice to in S1.
So.. my heart was very full when they ripped it from my chest moments later. Mooncake has been watching Team Squad members be self sacrificing for a little while now, and he loves his family and Gary so much that he rushes straight towards danger. (Sure, I don’t think that he estimated how powerful Ash could be at this moment), but he had to at least consider that he might be caught or left behind.
Bitch, Ash is GONE. She said, “Fuck all y’all!” Not knowing whether or not Mooncake is destroyed makes it very hard for me to know how much I can stand this, but I also want to hope that he is gonna survive. Quinn having to make the decision to lightfold is hella sad, but even though Gary is destroyed, he has to know that this is exactly how Ash must’ve felt whenever he had to make the call to leave Fox behind. She hated to do that to Gary. She even seemed more regretful about it than Gary did whenever he had to leave Fox and when he left Ash. Sure, its because she loves him more than he loved Fox and Ash, but its a terrible position to be in to have to hurt somebody you love like that. On the other hand, they gave her hella shit for them not escaping when could have the first time, so naturally, she was going to make this decision.
It very much sucks that Invictus is free and my brain can’t eeem FATHOM what that means for everything and everybody, but the Final Space poisoning left the Team Squad’s system, so maybe there is a rejuvenation of some sort in Invictus’ power? Or does Final Space poisoning leave your system as soon as you leave Final Space? I don’t think that was clarified.
Anyways, I still don’t hate Ash. Y’all can say whatever about it, but I see sad white boys get forgiven all day every day on this site, and I’m upset, but I’m not letting my baby go. I’m not cheering her on, but unless she dies, I’m gonna hope for the best for her, like I said here.
DAMN this season was some shit. Ionknow if I’m emotionally capable of watching another season of Final Space in progress. If they make it back for another season, I will most likely just wait until the end to dive in and let them shock my senses all at once instead of on a weekly goddamn basis, because GODDAMN GODDAMN GODDDAMN!
@andromidagalaxie @daintyurbanprincess @shslargue @space-finally The Quinnary Moments Masterlist probably won’t be ready by Quinn’s birthday, since her birthday is the day before Juneteenth, but I’ve started on a little fic that I might have the first installment of posted by then. We shall see.
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Here is my JOURNEY during my first watch of the first two seasons of the show. (I watched Season 3 in progress and waited until it was over to write up this review) and my probably incoherent tag of whenever I do me a lil’ liveblogging: Nesha Watches Final Space, and here is my review on Quinnary: BFCD Reviews by Nesha: (Quinn Ergon/Nightfall x Gary Goodspeed) FINAL SPACE
#Final Space#BFCD Reviews by Nesha#Nesha Watches Final Space#Nesha Watches#Quinn Ergon#Quinn Ergon commentary#Final Space season 3#Final Space spoilers#long post
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Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol
@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go
Title: abject impermanence
Word Count: 3,570
Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image
(fic masterpost)
Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.
It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.
(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)
It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.
And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.
So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings
(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)
so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.
He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.
(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)
But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,
(because since fucking when?)
and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.
He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.
And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.
But that night, Logan comes to his room.
“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.
Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”
Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.
“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”
He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”
“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”
Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.
He was just tired of hurting Thomas.
(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)
“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”
“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”
Oh.
Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.
“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”
“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?
That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?
It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.
“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.
“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”
“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.
But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.
It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—
Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.
After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.
Except, nothing is ever that simple,
(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)
because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.
The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.
Which is fine. Great, even.
Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.
For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—
Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.
He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.
So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.
“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn���t be staring and—
No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.
Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.
He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.
But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.
So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”
Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.
“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out
(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)
because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.
“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.
“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”
“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”
He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.
“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”
He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.
Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.
It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.
“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”
His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.
(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)
Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—
“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”
Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.
Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”
Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.
Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”
And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.
“Do you mean it?” he croaks.
Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.
“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—
“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”
Virgil blinks.
The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,
(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)
morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.
“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”
Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.
“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”
A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.
“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.
Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—
Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.
(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”
He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.
He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)
General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @ldavmp4
#analogical#virgil sanders#ts virgil#logan sanders#ts logan#my fic#long post#cat does prompts#wisherbystarlight
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Pops, AfO, Compress, and Kurogiri reacting to their s/o getting hit on by someone else? (only if ur comfy writing it! love your work 💖)
(Me seeing Pops in a request again after so long :O!!! Thank you requesting what I like to call the old man crew lol. I love these 4...although AFO has been pushing my patience lately lmao)
~Pops/AFO/Sako/Kurogiri’s S/O being hit on~
headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up
~Pops~
-Don’t take it the wrong was as if he doesn’t care, but he has his reasons for why he doesn’t step in between you. For one, he’s old and matured past any type of jealousy. He knows you’re an adult that can stand up for yourself. He trusts you and he knows you won’t cheat on him or leave him. He just kinda stands nearby with a mug smile, just waiting for the metaphorical sound of heartbreak on the poor sucker that you turn down. When you return to him, he chuckles and places a hand on your head. “You could’ve stepped in at any time yknow?” You playfully glared at him and he shook his head. “Why would I do that when I can just watch? Did you make it hurt?” He asks as he refers to you turning down the stranger. “Yep.” You smirk back at him and your energy is so on par at that moment. You two are really a good match for each other. Oh, and don’t worry about anybody that goes too far with flirting because if they dare put their hands on you, Pops will have the ENTIRE hassaikai on their ass with no mercy. You already should know this.
~AFO~
-Much like Pops, he just stands at the sideline because why would he need to get involved when you aren’t in any immediate danger? The reason for his smugness is different. You see...this man is cocky as shit when people flirt with you. There’s no way they could ever stand up to par against him. For someone that looks like a sentient testicle, his confidence is through the fucking roof. He rather enjoys seeing you get the attention because it’s like a free show to him. This may get a little annoying to you if it happens too often though, so you’ll have to ask him to finally step in eventually. The only time he comes on his own is if they’re being disrespectful to you. He’s got so many damn quirks stockpiled in him, I’ll just make one up for this situation: Say someone gets brave enough ton slap your ass while flirting. Yeah you can punch them in return, but not before AFO comes over there and sucks their soul from their body before putting it back in an eternal state of terror and paranoia.
~Compress~
-He steps in immediately. You wouldn’t think he was the jealous type but sometimes looks can be deceiving. He isn’t worried about you leaving completely, but sometimes he can be a little scared when he’s up against someone far more attractive than him. Perhaps his confidence around you is a façade he puts on? Who knows. Either way, he steps in between you two quickly and wraps his arm around your side. “Dearest who is this?” He asked before sealing the deal with a peck on your forehead. If that’s not enough to get the pest away from you, then he’ll simply remove you from the conversation by pulling you away under the ruse that you two have somewhere to be. He doesn’t like conflict and can’t fight (he literally mentioned it in the anime lol), so it’s a perfect way to prevent conflict for him. You have to tease him when you guys get back home, but he takes it like a champ lol.
~Kurogiri~
-Isn’t sure if he needs to step in or not. He’s conflicted with himself sometimes. On one hand he wants to warp that person away to somewhere awful, but on the other hand he’s worried about treating you like a child. He knows you can handle yourself and he doesn’t want to come off as babying you because he does tend to do that A LOT when at home together. Later when you get back home, you ask him why he didn’t say anything to the person and he fully admits to you in open honesty (which you admire in him) how he feels. “My apologies if I came off as uncaring during the situation my love, but I wasn’t sure how to calculate my final steps. I wished so badly to get that pest away from you however, I didn’t want to underestimate your own abilities. I apologize once more.” You’ll probably have to reassure him that things are okay because he tends to overthink thing when it comes to you sometimes. If it’s possible, he can be a little too respectful in his hopes to never upset you.
»—————————–———————————————————–✄
Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber
#pops#afo#kurogiri#compress#bnha pops#all for one#mr. compress#mr compress#sako atsuhiro#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#shie hassaikai#league of villains#lov
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What do you feel about amandamaryanna’s video on gossip girl and cosplaying poor? It reminds me of those tik tok videos that are about the most insane rich person behavior you’ve experienced. I feel like it’s subjective because the characters Dan Vanessa and Zoya are basing their poor ness around THEIR environment. So yes, there are MANY people who are actually poor but compared to their UES counterparts they would be considered “poor” due to the fact that they do not have the insane amount of disposable wealth that the other characters have and I do not really see that as them trying to cosplay as poor.
Also what are your thoughts on her argument on GG not really talking about class consciousness and POC issues. Even though the characters Ursula, Jane and Raina had short appearances on the show, as a Black person I think that is was great that they added the few POC characters on GG because their identity was not the main focus of their characters. Usually with Black or POC characters they have to go through some racial turmoil as part of the plot and in GG they got to be rich UES-ers simply because they are. Even though GG is very verryy flawed Penelope, Nelly, Kati, Isabelle and Zoe were shown how POC characters can be rich like the white characters in the show as well GG is obviously a fictional show that’s not based on anything so I don’t think that racial income statistics/racial implications need to be talked about 24/7.
so i started watching this video & just ended up reading the transcript instead. anyway. under a read more:
like, yes. i agree with her on one hand - i think gossip girl 2007 messed up by making dan's grievances be connected to financial status, because the humphreys certainly weren't "poor". like i think this point she says makes sense to an extent:
The comparison between outsiders and insiders and gossip girl is all about relativity. To the average viewer it seems absurd that a character like Dan is supposed to represent the outsider when he is so farther in than any of us could get.
But honestly, something i hate is how people who talk about this show act as if everyone who's watching is expected to know the prices of rent in new york city, etc. like i did NOT realise how expensive that loft is until someone else mentioned it to me and i would not have guessed! who is your "average viewer" - is it an American? someone who lives in New York? someone who lives in Brooklyn? you can't just define an average viewer in that way, i feel! like you are making a BIG Assumption there and it's not necessarily accurate. people who aren't american watch american tv! such is the world we are living in.
but keeping that aside, yeah: dan and jenny had stable and secure housing, the guarantee of meals, and were attending expensive private schools, so i think the show's messaging regarding class was a little strange. they definitely weren't in a financially unstable situation.
but also, you're right. like, dan and jenny weren't super duper broke, and at no point do they actually act like they are, tbh. dan is very 'oh my parents sacrificed so much to send me to st jude's' and jenny is very 'damn i wish i was richer' but there isn't really an instance where the humphreys seem to view themselves as being extremely poor, that i remember at least. in s1, jenny says something along the lines of, "we're humphreys; we're not exactly royalty." and like. she is not wrong! they're financially stable kids, but they're ordinary kids living in an environment where everyone else has the safety net of millionnaire parents to fall back on, and however much money rufus has, he isn't that.
so i think it's a grey area, like, YES, the humphreys have wealth related privilege (i don't know if this can be said for v, because honestly we don't know much about her living situation, but we do know that she works as a waitress for a bit in s1, and also that she's homeschooled, so she isn't shelling out big $$ for school fees.) but also dan and jenny are treated as 'less than' because they are considered nobodies.
and i feel like THAT is the angle the show should have taken. not "i am oppressed because i am not rich" but rather, "everyone at school alienates me and treats me different and it's making things so difficult for me." whenever people say that dan and jenny acted like they were more oppressed than they actually were i'm like. they were both, in different ways, made to feel small and insecure and hopeless, at school? like of COURSE they're gonna feel victimised. dan is treated like he doesn't exist, and jenny is treated so horribly that i don't even have an adjective. like. i think the writing of the show would've been much stronger if it had focused on THAT and not made it a class thing.
i haven't watched the reboot beyond ep02, so i'm not gonna comment on that.
so yeah, i don't think it was 'cosplaying poor' as much as it was 'showing wealth related stuff extremely inaccurately.' like an anon told me, portraying nyu as community college is super inaccurate, as well. and it makes no sense? like i don't know why they had to do this and why they couldn't just... shoot at a regular community college. gossip girl 2007 did not care for representing poor people at all, like, if you watch the show you can tell that it just luxuriates in this aesthetic of like: more food than anybody can eat at every meal. so many luxuries. unnecessarily expensive things everywhere. like the show was very much luxury porn. to me it felt like it wasn't cosplaying poor as much as it was offering people a chance to wank off to the rich. & maybe because of that, the humphreys weren't allowed to be poorer. gg 2007 wasn't supposed to represent all of NY, it was supposed to represent the uber rich elite. and then you have dan and jenny humphrey, and vanessa abrams. they weren't allowed to be rich, because we needed a class conflict. but they weren't allowed to be poor, either, because this show was all about rich people aesthetics. so we got something weird & in the middle instead.
people forget that chuck was canonically a billionnaire - like, that is a LOT of money. and he is dan & jenny's peer! sadly, i think solely because of THAT, a lot of the oppression the humphreys face... checks out. like chuck being shitty to both dan and jenny - he' has an unethical, absurd, uncomparable-to-whatever-the-humphreys-have amount of money. he can do whatever he wants & buy his way out of there. rufus humphrey's ten thousand dollars or whatever amount he mentions are like pocket change to that guy. if jenny is gonna be treated like a commodity by everyone around her, do her upper middle class roots and expensive loft really matter? well, not do they matter as much as like. can they protect her? (we've watched the show. we know the answer is no.)
re: the characters of colour... i think it's subjective. i ADORE raina, and honestly, if we'd had a NJBC that was nate, serena, blair & raina, the show would've actually been AMAZING. like raina was such a cool character to me - i liked that she was driven, passionate, intelligent, sensitive, caring, fun-loving, thoughtful.... she wasn't on the show for long, but her character felt really solid and fleshed out. i remember a review (idk who wrote this one) in which someone felt that raina's character was "lazy" because a lot of her traits and her backstory paralleled chuck, but i strongly disagree. on raina, those traits were interesting. on chuck, any backstory and larger motive felt like a carpet to cover the dust that was his predatory nature, and to me, felt forced and off. like. this dude assaulted people, i don't care about his daddy issues. but raina seemed SO amazing. her backstory actually fit her personality and gave her depth, and to me, didn't feel forced.
i liked ursula, too! she was a really minor character, but she had a whole arc, and i liked that a LOT. her friendship with serena was very cute! i sadly do not remember jane. i think she was... someone's assistant? but i don't remember who. but i agree with you about raina and ursula, their arcs were very interesting and did not end up being about racial trauma & all that, which, like you said, is refreshing when done right.
that said, i think blair's minions were, uh, an example of blair's racism, and i think it would've been cool if the show unpacked that. blair uses her minions as a status symbol - her 17th birthday at kati's place which is anime themed (?) leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it feels very tokenising of a culture that blair isn't a part of? it would be different if blair treated her minions with respect and dignity and like they were her equals and peers, but she doesn't. the word "minions" itself makes me flinch because it's such a "oh you're inferior" kind of word. it felt to me very much like - they never got to be characters in their own right. they solely existed to prop up blair. and i think that is racist. there was a sense of "Oh, I can't be racist! I have a Black friend and an Asian friend" from Blair - like that's what kati & is were to her. and i think that is a big problem, especially glossed over like that.
i also do think that racial stuff doesn't always need to be the focus! but i don't think it can ever be completely ignored, either. an example of something that is maybe unintentionally racist, but racist nonetheless, is how dan cuts vanessa out of his life entirely but forgives his white friends for treating him farrrr worse. it's an inherent double standard, because dan kind of went "oh yeah. my threshold for white people fucking me over is really high, but if my Black best friend who's so close we're practically family does something even slightly wrong i'm going to cut her out of my life 4ever." did the writers realise this? i don't know. maybe they just didn't think about it. but this is exactly the sort of double standards and racist bullshit that woc, especially Black women, have to face irl (though of course i don't need to tell you that at all), except here, the narrative doesn't even address that, hey, maybe dan's being a dick by reacting this way. and i think that's a problem, too.
#long post#meta#racism#anti blair waldorf#(for tags)#anti gossip girl#ok 2 rb i GUESS#and if any poc want to add something more or correct me please do#ditto the class stuff - i am not american#and really just working with context clues
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The Chapter Contains Enji Todoroki. If this makes you triggered, or uncomfortable don't proceed.
Edited: 5-18-20
#1. I Love How You Patch Me Up.
You let out a sigh as you dabbed Touya Todoroki's eyebrow with a cotton ball. He hissed as the hydrogen peroxide soaked ball of cotton made contact with his skin, burning him as it cleaned out the cut.
"Sorry."
"Just stings."
Touya watched you from the spot where he sat on the barstool. You pulled your lip between your teeth and he knew you were upset. Upset that you had to make him sit through the extra pain of cleaning out his cuts with ointment and peroxide.
You weren't just upset, but livid. Livid that his father would hurt him like this. Livid that his mother didn't step up and protect him. Most of all, you were livid that she wouldn't even stay around to clean him up, but rather left him to patch himself up.
Your heart hurt for Touya, it truly did. You knew what it was like to have your father, a respected man, lay a hand against you—that's how you originally met Touya in the first place.
You were both in a local drug store looking for peroxide and medical materials, the same day with the same purpose and reasons. You both happened to reach for the same bottle as if fate intended for you to meet. You ended up helping him patch himself up that day.
You carefully pressed a bandaid over Touya's eyebrow cut before moving onto a new one. Your eyes briefly flashed down to his teal orbs before going back to your task at hand.
"Why'd he get so angry this time?"
"I told my parents I wanted to apply to UA. Enji told me I wasn't cut out to be a hero, I disagreed."
"And your mother? What did she say."
"She didn't say anything... But I know she agrees with him."
Your hand pressed down harder on Touya's cut. Sensing your anger, Touya pulled your hand from his cut cheek to his mouth. Ignoring the pain from his busted lip, he kissed your tense knuckles.
"I hate them so much. I hate how he treats you. I hate how she doesn't stop it. She doesn't even try!"
"Can you really blame her? If she intervened then my busted face would be hers. If he didn't hit me, he would be hitting her."
"That's not how a mother should act. A mother would step in, a mother would protect you. You protect her so much, but she has never done shit for you."
"How would you know? You don't even have a mother."
His comment deeply bothered you, but you knew that it didn't come out of malice but rather a defense. It didn't make it hurt any less, however, you didn't retaliate with words but actions.
With a tight smile, you soak a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and aggressively press Touya's lip with the substance. He winced, but he couldn't be mad. You would never hurt him on purpose, instead, you took out your anger by cleaning him up, something that you knew would hurt him but something that essentially needed to be done.
"I'm sorry, that was mean."
"It was."
"I just hate when you talk bad about her, she's not a bad person. He is, but she's not. She's sweet with Fuyumi and Natsou, it's just cause' I look so much like him. She thinks I'm just like him."
A tear falls down from Touya's pretty teal eyes. It dribbled down his cheek and mixed in with his cuts. You turned your own gaze to the ground, as you couldn't help but let a few of your own fall as well.
"You're not your father Touya."
"You're right, I'm not my father. That's why it doesn't matter if I let him hurt me, cause' at least I know I'm not enabling a monster like him to hurt my mom."
Touya slips his arms around your waist and pulls you closer between his legs. He used his hand to tilt your chin up making you look him in the eyes as his other hand traced circles into the bare skin of your hip above your jeans.
"I wish we could just get away from them all."
Touya let his head rest against your chest and he softy murmured into your skin as you ran your fingers through his bright orange locks.
"One day I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. You'll come with me, right?"
Your lips quirked up into a small smile. You leaned your neck down and kissed the top of Touya's head.
"Of course. After all, you'd be hopeless without your unlicensed doctor."
"I think you meant my pretty, unlicensed doctor."
Touya could still feel the heat from your kiss on his head, lingering and begging for more. It was then in that moment as you patched up his wounds that he realized how he really felt about you. He really wanted to say those three unspoken words, the words he was so cautious about handing out, but he didn't. Instead, he held his best friend and let her patch up his face.
#2. I Love How You Won’t Let Me Go. (Even When I Push You Away.)
He knew what he was doing was horrible. He knew what he was doing was going to break your heart. He was doing the worst thing. It would be like stabbing you in the chest and twisting the knife.
Touya Todoroki knew what he was doing would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from packing his bag with any essential items he would need. He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from discreetly leaving you a heartfelt goodbye letter in your mailbox before he headed off to school.
He knew it would hurt you, but that didn't stop him from walking to the nearest bus stop right after school got out. He knew it would hurt you, but he still bought a ticket to the farthest destination anybody would look for him, a ticket he bought a week in advance from his departure date.
He knew it would hurt, yet he still attempted to go through with it. What he hadn't expected was to see you standing there at the bus stop when he arrived. He hadn't expected to see you, arms crossed with a furious look spread across your face.
"Were you really going to leave?"
His eyes flowed from the scorned look of betrayal on your face down to your hand which held the letter he left in your mailbox. It was bunched up in your fist and your knuckles were white from clenching it so hard.
He could see the tears building up at your eyes, and his chest felt heavy with regret. He pulled on the arm straps of his backpack tighter. He was scared of hurting you. He was careful to choose his next words, wary of breaking you even more.
"How did you even get from school to home to here so fast?"
"Maybe if you hadn't been avoiding me like the black plague, you would've known that I was absent from school today."
"Why were you absent? Did your father-"
"Don't. Don't ask about my father. You don't have that right, not after you broke your promise."
The tears started dribbling down your cheeks and you looked up at the sky to avoid looking at him with your blurry tear-filled orbs.
"You promised. You promised that you would take me with you. You said we’d escape our parents together… But you were going to leave without me. You weren't even going to give me an actual goodbye."
Your voice sounded quiet and simply broken. The tone you used with him was hurt and lifeless. He wished you would scream, he wished you would yell. Anything would be better than the broken tone you held. Anything would be better than the broken tone he caused.
"How could I take you with me? I'd just be dragging you down."
Touya took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the words he had to say to you.
"You wanna know why I got so distant? My mom got put in a mental institute and our last conversation was her telling me I was gonna end up just like Enji. I can't be anywhere near you. I won't let myself treat you like he treats people."
Touya made the motion to turn as his tears started to leak down his eyes. He started to turn away from you, letting his last words to you serve as a goodbye. You quickly grabbed onto his arm, stopping him and pulling him back. You would not let him go, not like this.
“I'm not a good person, [Y/N], it's better if I just leave."
"I will not let you walk away from me, I will not let you walk away from the past seven years. If you can look me in the eyes and truthfully say our friendship has meant nothing, that I have meant nothing to you, then I'll let you walk away."
“That's not fair. I could never say that to you. I'm not leaving because of you. I'm leaving for you. For fuck's sake! If my own mother, my flesh and blood, couldn't love me then no one can. I'd just drive you insane.”
“That's bullshit! Cause' I love you, and I'll always love you."
The thing you so belligerently tried to keep from your best friend was out in the open. You felt naked and vulnerable now that the words were out of your mouth.
"You love me?"
His voice sounded so hesitant and scared of the answer. He looked at you but you were looking at the ground, scared to meet his eyes. You took a deep breath before divulging in the secret you kept so well.
"You’re the reason I have the strength to wake up every day despite knowing what's in store with my dad. You make it worthwhile every day when I see you in school, you make me feel like I'm actually important. I love you, I've always loved you... And if you still want to leave despite knowing that, then just leave.”
Touya cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look up at him. His hands on your cheeks felt warm, you wished for nothing more than to stay like that.
“You always take time out of your day for me. Whether it's homework, an injury, or just to ask me about my day, you're there. You’ve never once got disgusted by my scars. I think I love you more than I value my own life and that scares me.”
Touya pressed his lips against yours. They felt warm and soft. You could smell his distinct scent of ash from his quirk. Words could not describe the way you loved the way ash smelt on him.
“But I can't stay with a family who hates me. Come with me doll. Leave your shitty dad and come with me.”
“Touya, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant being with you.”
#3. I Love How You Don’t Judge Me.
With a grocery bag in his hand, Touya unlocked the door to the dingy motel room you had been staying in together. It wasn't much, but it wasn't somewhere someone would think to look for the son of the famous hero Endeavor. It wasn't much, but you didn't care as long as he was with you.
Touya locked the door behind him before walking further into the motel room and dropping the grocery bags at the foot of the bed where you laid reading a book. You looked up from your book and smiled at Touya.
“Hey there.”
Touya leaned down to your face and pressed his lips against yours, giving you a quick chaste kiss.
“Hi.”
"What’d you get at the store?”
“I got some instant ramen.”
“Same as yesterday, yummy.”
You picked up the grocery bag and carried it to the tiny microwave that the motel had provided in every room.
“Instant ramen in a rundown motel room. I'm sorry, I know it's not ideal.”
You turned your head to the side to look at Touya. A smile played on your lips as you made eye contact with him.
“I knew what I was signing up for when I came with you, besides, I like instant ramen.”
You added water to the containers and popped the ramen inside the microwave before pressing on the right buttons to turn it on. Touya came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He gave you another chaste kiss, this time on the side of your temple.
“Will you dye my hair?”
“Really? I really like your orange hair.”
You turned around in Touya's arms and looked him in the eyes to see if he was serious. It was so out of the blue, he had never had any interest in dying his hair before. As you ran your hands through his orange locks it wasn’t hard to guess what was going through his head. He was a spitting image of Enji.
“I have a job interview tomorrow, but I don't wanna go to it like this. I don't wanna go to it looking like a younger version of him. I want a whole new identity.”
“I really like your orange hair, but I'll love you no matter what hair color you've got.”
You walked over to the second grocery bag Touya had brought home and pulled out the black hair dye. You ripped the box open as Touya took a seat on a wooden chair in front of you. You ripped open the powders and dumped the powdered dye into the liquid chemical bottle before placing a lid on it and shaking it up.
“Tip your head back.”
You ran your fingers through his hair and applied the dye thoroughly as you rubbed it in his roots. You made sure not to leave a single inch of orange hair untouched.
You washed your hands and set a timer on your phone before retrieving your ramen bowls from the microwave and placing one in front of him and taking your place in the chair across from him.
“Thank you, doll.”
“Of course babe. I just hope it takes to your hair well, orange hair can be unpredictable when dyeing. We might have to go to the store and get another box.”
Touya sat there with you, happily eating away at the ramen you cooked for him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when you asked the question he dreaded you asking.
“What's the job interview for?”
Touya bit down on his lip as he debated whether or not he should tell you. If he honestly told you what the job was, then you might get mad. On the other hand, he wanted to have an honest relationship with you.
“It’s for a position in the league of villains.”
You stared at him speechlessly as the timer went off on your phone. He wasn't sure what to make of your expression. You didn't look mad, or angry, but you didn't look happy or pleased either. Despite being best friends for most of your lives, Touya couldn't identify your expression. Not being able to tell what you were feeling made Touya nervous.
“You should wash your hair.”
“[Y/N]-”
“Go wash your hair before it falls out!”
He knew you were angry. He thought you were. You had to be. So instead of staying to talk it out, he retreated to the bathroom to wash out the chemicals as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Each minute that passed felt like years to the both of you.
After what felt like a millennium, Touya emerged from the bathroom with a now black stained towel in his hand. You took a deep breath before smiling at your lover as he walked closer to you.
“You want to be a villain?”
“I- I know you're upset and disappointed, but I can't be a hero. I can't be that heroic guy you want and need. You can judge me all you want, but I can't be that.”
“Oh, baby… I would never judge you.”
You reached up and grabbed Touya by the sides of his head. With your thumbs, you wiped away the tears that had begun making their way down his cheeks and you gently pulled his face down to yours. Touya got on his knees and wrapped his arms around you as you cradle his face on your chest.
“I’m not upset, or disappointed either. You want a new identity, I understand that. I literally just dyed your hair, I'll even help you pick a new name. I was just shocked to hear you say, villain.”
“I can't be a hero [Y/N], they're so corrupt. I- I can't be someone like Enji. He was a hero and he was a bastard. I'm sorry if you hate me for this but I can't be someone like that.”
“Hey, I said I wasn't gonna judge you, and that meant I wouldn't ever hate you either. It just scares me. Hero or villain, it's a risky occupation.”
You run your fingers through Touya's newly black damp hair. It felt nice to him and it did miracles to soothe his tears. There were countless times where he found himself in this exact spot growing up, usually after he and Enji had a fight.
“It's a risky occupation. But hey, if you get to do something dangerous, then I can too.”
“[Y/N].”
“If you're joining the villains, then I am too. Who else will bandage up your wounds properly? Somebody's gotta keep you alive.”
Touya pressed his lips against yours. This kiss wasn't a chaste one like earlier, but one of longing and want. It was filled with lust and passion and hunger.
“Okay, we’ll do it together.”
#4. I Love How You Reassure me.
You sat on the closed edge of the toilet in your shared apartment as you stared down at the tiny thin stick in your hands. You were nervous and your whole body was tense as you stared at the stick with anticipation as you waited for the timer on your phone to go off.
Every passing minute felt like decades and with every passing second, the pounding of your heartbeat got faster. The timer beeped and you looked at the stick for the results. Two lines were present signifying positive.
The tears sprang from your eyes. You weren't sure what the appropriate response should have been but the whole situation left you feeling overwhelmed. What kind of lifestyle would you be bringing a child into? You were a villain now, and although you worked for the league of villains in a more medical aspect, your lover, the father of the baby, held a big role for the league of villains.
Occupations set aside, you weren't even married, nor did you and Dabi, the name Touya was going by these days, had much knowledge on how to raise a child. Yet the more you thought about how you carried something so precious in your womb brought a soft smile to your face. The more you thought of raising a child with Dabi, you felt better and more secure.
You heard keys jingling in the apartment doorknob followed by the sound of boots coming in the doorway and you could soon hear Dabi's deep voice resounding throughout the house.
"Sweetheart? I'm home."
You started to panic as you heard him walk closer to the bathroom. Should you hide the test, or just tell it to him straight? There was a slightly unsettling feeling in your stomach that Dabi wouldn't be happy about the predicament, but you had an open and honest relationship with Dabi.
The door to the bathroom was pushed open and Dabi made his way inside ready to scold you.
"You're sick, you should be resting in bed."
Being sick was just an excuse to take a day off from league work to slip away and buy your pregnancy test. To be fair, you were sick earlier due to morning sickness.
"I'm feeling better now, and, I uh, I have something for you."
You looked at the ground and ran one hand through your hair nervously as you used your other hand to push the pregnancy test into his hand. He took it, not even realizing what it was. Not even realizing how that tiny stick would impact his life. It didn't take him long to realize what it was as he looked down at the pink stick with two red lines.
"This a pregnancy stick."
"Yeah."
"Two lines. Is that positive?"
"Well, I wouldn't be giving you a pregnancy test if it was negative, would I?"
Dabi numbly took a seat on the edge of the bathtub across from you. To Dabi, children were not in the life plan, he never even let himself entertain the thought of kids. Sure, you were financially better than when you first left home together, rather than bouncing from dingy motel to motel you lived in a nice apartment, but you were both barely over twenty-one, your career choice was villainy, not to mention you both never had the best example of what a parent should be.
"It has to be wrong, we've been careful. You- you can't be pregnant."
Your eyes which had been trained on the floor finally looked up and met Dabi's orbs. You knew he might not want your baby, but you hadn't expected him to look so distraught and sick about it.
"Well I am, and I'm not aborting. This child is a part of you and me, I won't abort them."
"We can't raise a child."
"I can raise a child, what you mean is that you don't want to raise a child together."
"I didn't say I don't want to, I said I can't."
A tear dribbled down Dabi's cheek. You pulled him off the edge of the bathtub, onto his knees with his head against your chest. His comfort space, the space he would always find himself crying as he grew up. You ran your hand through Dabi's raven dyed hair, your signature move to quell his tears.
"I know what you're thinkin' and it's not true. You're not gonna be like him, you're not him."
"He's always going to be biologically a part of me. He was a shit dad and a shit husband. I don't wanna be like him."
"Just cause he's your dad, doesn't mean your gonna be like him. You're a good man and you'll be a great dad. You're not gonna hurt me, or this baby. You won't be like Enji."
Dabi slid his head from your chest to your stomach. A smile made its way across his stapled face as he let himself entertain the domestic thought of having a family with you.
"If we're having a baby then we might wanna look for a bigger apartment."
#5. I Love Everything You Create.
Dabi leaned over the sleek black bassinet and peered down. His precious baby lay there sound asleep. She had trademark teal blue eyes like his, but your nose. although she looked very distinctly you, she had red hair from Dabi. Although it was very Todoroki like, he didn't care. He didn't care that it tied him to Enji because it also tied her to himself and you. She was his baby, his pride and joy. She was the greatest gift you could have given him. She was his and yours to cherish and love, he wouldn't give that up for anything.
The baby began to stir and Dabi hesitated as he looked at her. Sometimes she would just fall back to sleep, but today was not one of those days. Her little cries began to start and Dabi swooped her up into his arms. With her head against his shoulder, he carefully swayed her back and forth immediately quelling her cries.
She didn't fall back to sleep but she laid there quietly in his arms. She was just a little over a year old but she was already a daddy's girl.
"You hungry?"
Dabi smiled as he heard Akari's little excited gurgles and giggles. He carried her down to the kitchen and pulled out a container of baby food from the fridge. Before quickly tossing it in the microwave.
Dabi pulled Akari closer to his chest and away from his shoulder so he could move around and do things in the house while securely holding her. Akari, deciding she wants more attention, pulls her hands towards her father's face and yanks on one of his staples.
"Ah."
Dabi swiftly put Akari in her baby high chair before grabbing a towel and wiping his face to get rid of the small blood that came along with the staple.
"Da! Da!"
Dabi weakly smiled in his daughter's direction as to not worry or frighten her. This wasn't the first time she had pulled his staples out, but it didn't hurt any less with each time she did it. Once the bleeding let up Dabi tossed the towel on the counter and picked Akari back up, giving Akari the attention she was trying to get.
"You're daddy's little menace, aren't you? Huh?"
Akari giggled and buried her face in Dabi's neck, it sent a smile onto Dabi's face. She was so perfect and every second he spent with her he couldn't understand why Enji ever treated him and his siblings the way he had. When he held Akari all that came to his mind was how he would do anything to protect her. Her and you. All he could think about was how precious and special you both were to him.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
Dabi turned his head to the side to see you leaning against the doorway. Your head was all over the place due to bed head and you wore Dabi's oversized t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. You looked completely frumpy but to Dabi, you were nothing less than perfect.
"I wanted to let you sleep in."
"I enjoyed the sleep, but I'd rather have been up with my lovelies."
You walked over to Dabi and Akari. You dipped your head down to hers and kissed her head before leaning up to kiss Dabi, you stopped midway as you saw his cheek. You brought your hand up and creased his cheek.
"Did she pull your staple out again?"
"Yeah. She's got a mean steak, I still think we should have named her Void."
You reached into the cupboard to pull out a bandaid to patch your lover up.
"Void is such a bad name, so was Winslow."
You took the wrapper off the bandaid and pressed it against Dabi's face. He gave you a soft smile as he placed his hand over your hand that was on his cheek.
"I'm glad you married me, you know that right? I know we did it cause' you were pregnant, but I wouldn't change it."
You pressed your lips against Dabi's briefly before pulling away and smiling at him.
"You and Akari are everything to me. I love you, and everything you've given me. I wouldn't change it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
#bnha#bnha x reader#mha#mha x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia#boku no hero x reader#boku no hero#mha dabi x reader#bnha dabi x reader#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya x reader#todoroki x reader#bnha todoroki x reader#mha todoroki x reader#bnha touya x reader#bnha touya todoroki x reader#mha touya todoroki x reader#mha touya x reader#touya#bnha touya#mha touya#dabi#dabi bnha#mha dabi#todoroki#bnha todoroki#anime x reader#x reader
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Survey #389
“i’m well aware i’m a danger to myself / are you aware i’m a danger to others?”
How much do you weigh? Yeah, we're starting off on a bad foot. If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Putting Roman's used litter in the trash. Do you think you can love someone without trusting them? Hm... I guess you could love them, but it'd be a complicated situation. What’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? If it's purely for sport, from the very bottom of my heart, fuck you. Do you have a fairly fast or slow internet connection? I'd say it's decently fast. Have you ever been someplace tropical? Yeah, Florida. My grandma lived there. Are you sensitive to caffeine? No. It does like... nothing to me. How do you usually get around? My mom's car. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? No actually, but I know I kinda am. What do you think about Kim Kardashian? I don't have an opinion of her. Can you speak any French? No. Favorite yogurt flavor? The only yogurt I've been liking lately is cookies and cream to add a different texture, because otherwise, I don't like its natural texture very much??? Idk man, my taste buds are wild. How much money do you have in your wallet right now? Just like $5. What bottled water brand do you like? Essentia. Your favorite way to eat chocolate? As chocolate bars, probably. How often do you listen to country music? Like, never. Linkin Park or Avenged Sevenfold? Linkin Park. Last surgery you had? Pilonidal cyst removal. Have you ever played guitar? I briefly took classes for it in high school, yes. Best I got to was playing some of the intro to "Crazy Train." I enjoyed it, but not enough to be consistent and really learn. Is there someone in your life whose career/life choices you find immoral/unethical? Have you ever told that person your views? Do you find it difficult to support them (emotionally or otherwise) because of their choices? I don't think so? What trait do you feel you lack that you wish you possessed? Independence and confidence would be nice... Have you ever considered writing your memoirs? No. Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? God no. I love my online friends. Half of 'em more than "irl" ones. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? I have to be VERY invested in it to care THAT much. It happened most recently when Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty premiered. Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No. Would you rather have a job for which you had to go in early in the morning or one you had to stay late into the evening at? Early in the morning. I'm in a better mood in the morning. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have a calorie-counting app, as well as one to track my period. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? My mom's, best friend's, and psychiatrist's. If you could’ve been at any historical event, which would you have liked to witness firsthand? I don't really know. Maybe the very first Pride event? Is there something that you really want to do but are afraid of doing? If so, why are you afraid of doing it? Ride a rollercoaster, for one. I know I never will, though. I'm too afraid of throwing up, but even more realistically, I fear passing out before of the twisting and turning and just standing up makes me very dizzy. My blood pressure is STUPID low. What is something society “expects” you to do that you don’t want to do and/or don’t plan on doing? Have kids. That's a big 'ole fat no from me. Have Jehovah's Witnesses ever come to your door? Twice at least. Are you well-known by people in your area? No. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, thank Christ. It sounds terrifying. What's your favourite type of bird? Barn owls. Melanistic ones, to be exact. Stunning. What tv show(s) have you been watching currently? I'm only keeping up with Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Have you ever dated a smoker? For less than a day. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes. Have you ever been a member in a band? No. Besides the school band. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No. Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? Multiple times. Have you ever taken a ride in a convertible? I think once with my brother. Why did you last need to use a band-aid? I'unno. What fruit do you eat most often? Apples. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? My ma. Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? A few times. I don't feel like thinking over this. Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? I've tried almond milk, and I hated it. If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? uhhhhhh idk When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? I'm essentially always in my room. If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? No. Do you find piercings attractive? Yep. Do you like potato chips? Loooove 'em. What’s the most stalker-like/creepy thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t think you’ve done anything like that, what’s the most stalker-like thing someone’s done to you? Nothing beyond checking Jason's Facebook sometimes after the breakup, I think. Even that though I wouldn't recommend doing. You're just going to get yourself hurt. Stay away from exes' profiles. Do you think it’s a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it’s assault? Yep. I don't give a fuck what's in your pants, you don't hit anybody unless you're fighting to defend yourself. What’s your favorite old Disney movie and favorite new Disney movie? I mean... define "old." I'll go with The Lion King for old, and for new, uh... Finding Dory, probs. Name something “trendy” or popular that you dislike. I don't really know what IS trendy right now... Is Snapchat still "in?" Because I've never gotten that. “Dirty talk” in the bedroom…love it, like it, don’t care, dislike it, or hate it? I think I'm kinda neutral about it? Like I mean it also depends on exactly what is said. I prefer more loving talk, though. What is/are your favorite type(s) of ethnic food, and what’s your favorite food within that type? I'm a basic fatass that likes American cuisine most, aha... Like give me a cheeseburger and I'm happy lmao. How would you describe your relationship with your hair over the years? I love it more now at a short length than I ever did long. When it was long and I was in my deepest depression, I was awful about brushing it. It would get so knotted. Like looking back, it nearly makes me shiver. I HIGHLY recommend cutting your hair for anyone who struggles with selfcare. How do you feel about your SO daily/regularly checking up on a couple of his exes on social media? I'm single, but hypothetically, if you're checking an ex's page nearly every day, I would not be okay with that. I'm totally fine with exes remaining friends and just cordially talking now and again, but that's it. It's a respect thing. Do you prefer your guy to wear cologne or not? I personally like cologne if it's not overwhelming. I really don't care if you wear it or not, though. Ladies, how important is it to you that your SO wears/would wear a wedding ring? This survey is so heteronormative. But anyway, unless there was an issue like it not fitting, I'd want my spouse to wear their ring. What was the turning point that led you to decide for or against having children? There are a lot of reasons I don't want kids. I'm too selfish with my "me" time, I stress out too easily, I don't want to dedicate my life to keeping another person alive and fed and happy, I have bad genes... I could go on and on. I just wouldn't be a good, "present" enough mom. I am much more interested in ensuring *I* am okay. Is having your “dream” wedding really that important to have? Not at all. I mean I want a smooth and memorable wedding, but I'm not obsessed with it being perfect. Do you consider it cheating if your SO goes to a strip club and then doesn’t tell you? That's certainly not cheating, but I wouldn't like it. Being secretive about anything in a relationship is unhealthy, imo. I'd be hurt and also very insecure because I wouldn't feel like "enough." How old is too old for trick-or-treating? Honestly? I don't think you ever are. Like come on, does it REALLY matter? Let people have fun. I don't do it because of societal standards, but I would if I didn't care about being judged. Do you sleep with your arms over or under the covers? It depends on the temperature, but I normally wake up with them under. Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band? I have an Ozzy one stored somewhere, but it doesn't fit me now. There was another I really liked too, but that one is WAY too small now. Fries or onion rings? Fries. I'm not a fan of onion rings. True/False: you’ve had an odd dream this week. Story of my life. I had one last night where I kept dying in different ways, and I actually felt the pain, like drowning in magma. Do you find tattoo sleeves attractive? YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Do you like carving pumpkins? Yeah. What’s an animal you want to have as a pet but can’t? My mom has absolutely forbidden me to get a tarantula (uh, many tarantulas in my case) until I move out, lol. That doesn't stop me from checking Craigslist like every day. ;_; Have your parents ever caught you drinking? "Caught," no. Any time I've drunk, I've had permission or was a legal adult by then. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? First be humiliated at my appearance and then absolutely pass out lmao. Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? No, thank fuck. The person you have a crush on is drunk and goes to kiss you, you know they don’t realize what they’re doing, but do you kiss anyways? If I know it's something they wouldn't do sober, absolutely not. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Any would be lovely, but the poem would appeal most to me because of the amount of thought that goes into poetry. Do you any shirts with any kind of images of food on them? What? I don't think so, no. Which holiday is the most fun to decorate for? Halloween. What was the first website you had an email account on? Yahoo. Have you ever written a fanfic? No. Tattoos or piercings? Both are grand, but tats win. What’s the last gross movie/show/video you saw? I saw this picture of a snake split open that had eaten another snake. Would you rather live in a huuuge house or a little cozy one? Lil cozy one! I don't want more space than is needed for cleaning reasons, as well as price. Do you have a tutor for anything? No. Who’s the best kisser you know? Jason was. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No. I'd like it to stay that way. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you "shortie" instead of girl? Ew, no. Do you have a deep voice? For a woman, yes. Do you play games with boys/girls, like 'hard to get’? Hi, I'm an adult. Is there a Sonic where you live? YES. It's my fave fast-food place. What do you like on your pizza? I have three go-tos depending on my mood: Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers.
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Bully me for months? I'll hit you where it hurts the most, literally.
I want to preface this by saying I'm not proud of what I've done here. To the casual observer, what I did might seem like justice, but, really, I wish it didn't have to go as far as it did. I want my story to be a cautionary tale of what happens when bullying isn't taken seriously. I don't want this story to inspire you to do what I did, but as to what happens when people don't make the right choices the first time. Also, TL;DR at the bottom, the quotes aren't exact, and apologies if this seems a little all over the place. It's not easy for me to bring up stories like this, but I felt maybe I'd do some good by sharing it.
For as long as I can remember, I had a habit of bottling up my emotions. My single father is a staunch believer in traditional masculinity, including the idea that men and boys shouldn't cry. By my early to mid teens, I succumbed to this outdated idea, and accepted my fate as a quiet, stoic drone that just took orders, respected authority, and did hard work (especially manual labor.)
Enter my high school, which had a huge problem with bullying. The worst kids by far were the trashy "gangsta" kids (their words, not mine) from the inner city who targeted anybody they considered weaker than them. I was a pretty muscular 15 year old, but that didn't stop them from saying things like "Dude, you're so fat," or "Wassamatta, fattie? Lose your Twinkies on the way over?" In class, it was mostly petty annoyance: taking my pencil, sticking gum in my hair, insults. They got physical when the teachers weren't looking. Tripping me in the hall and pretending it was an accident; slamming my head against the locker, hitting me with footballs or soccer balls and saying a fake "whoops, sorry!" By themselves, it didn't seem that bad, but enough grains of sand add up to a huge pile, and, at that point, I was up to my waist in it.
Of course, the school didn't do anything about it. Teachers would either tell me "I'll take care of it," and then nothing ever changed, or I'd get something stupid like "I didn't see it. There's nothing I can do" or "You know, if I stopped class every time a kid was acting up, we'd never get anything done." Sure, and if a tree falls in the forest, it didn't make a sound because you didn't hear it. My father wasn't any help either. He'd tell me things like "there's gonna be people like that everywhere you go," or "if you're crying about this, you'll never make it in life," basically telling me to go suck it up because there are worse things out there. As a kid, I was hurt by this, but I was 15, so my self-esteem had been run over by a Combine a few times by now. For months, I just kept ignoring and waiting, hoping my teachers would keep their word about dealing with this problem. Sadly, it seemed they'd rather prioritize pep rallies and Career Aptitude Tests than do their job in keeping kids safe.
By around Spring, I'd had enough. By now, my sadness and annoyance had transmuted into boiling rage that I'd been keeping in me for far too long. If nobody was going to fight for me, I'd do it for myself, literally. I devoted the majority of my weekend to prepping for a showdown on Monday.
One of the few good things about my father is that how knowledgeable he is in self-defense. He believed it was important for a man to learn to fight, so he had me take several different kinds of martial art classes. If I was gonna fight a bully, I had to make it a proper fight. I then researched about Krav Maga, a branch of martial arts that's basically a military-style form of self defense, meant to train you how to fight if you were ever in danger "outside the arena." No rules, no balanced teams, no referees; just you and your need for survival. One of the components of Krav Maga is knowing the body's biggest "weak spots," ones that maximize the most amount of pain when hurt. Things like the groin, toes, and eyes were obvious, but you could also hit the knees, solar plexus, and even the spine. Since my classes didn't teach Krav Maga (you had to be 16 at the time,) I watched many online videos, making mental notes of the techniques used. It was almost always the same kid or group of kids that bullied me, so I already knew what they looked like, and, more importantly, where to strike.
On Monday, I waited for the next chance to come for the bullies to attack. To my surprise, they kept quiet for the most part. Maybe this was one of my lucky days where I'd actually get some work done. Then, while I was crunching for an exam during lunch, one of the bullies, a regular, spilled my water all over my textbook, and saying, "Whoops, sorry!" As he and his pals started walking away laughing, I got a good look at the back of the guy's neck. I raised my fist, aiming for the middle where I'd likely hit his spinal column.
WHAM! I knocked the guy over to the ground. That's when all Hell broke lose. His friends tried tackling me away, and I tried remembering to hit all their weak points: eyes, throat, groin, and jaw. It was fairly sloppy attempt at Krav Maga given my inexperience, and the other kids trying to fight back, but it got the effect I wanted. Of course, I didn't come out unscathed. I got punched in the jaw, a bloody nose, a bruise to the forehead, and more than a few kicks in the family jewels. The other kids noticed us fighting, with some going to get a teacher while others watched in a mix of shock and excitement. Eventually, the principal and a few other teachers pulled us apart, and sent us to the office, after our injuries were treated.
The principal talked with us individually while the assistant principal called all our parents. When it was my turn, I explained what happened. At some point, the principal said, "Why didn't you tell the teacher?" At that moment, I just snapped, somehow managing to sound even angrier than when I was fighting a few minutes ago. "I ALREADY TOLD THE DAMNED TEACHERS, LIKE A MILLION FUCKING TIMES, BUT NOBODY WAS DOING SHIT ABOUT IT! NOBODY! YOU TELL ME OVER AND OVER 'I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT, I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT,' BUT NOBODY EVER FUCKING DOES! I WOULDN'T HAVE FELT LIKE I HAD TO DO THIS OF SOMEBODY HERE ACTUALLY DID THEIR DAMNED JOB FOR ONCE!" I got an extra week of suspension for yelling.
Much to my surprise, my father was rather quiet about the whole thing. Normally, my father had the temperament of a dragon, but maybe this whole fight touched his inner "macho man" that made him go easier on me.
On the car ride home, he said calmly, but firmly, "What happened? And tell me the truth." I told him, "They wouldn't stop picking on me, so I defended myself." I waited to hear my father make some snide remark about hurt feelings, but he just said, "Were you in danger?" I paused for a moment, and said, "...Yes." I knew I was exaggerating, but maybe this could open my father's eyes to see how much I was hurting. He was quiet for a minute, and then said, "I can't judge on your situation 'cause I wasn't there, but it's in a boy's nature to be aggressive sometimes, and it sounds like those bullies were just using it for harm. I also know you well enough t'know you wouldn't lay a finger on somebody unless you felt like you had to." I nodded, holding back tears. "Next time you're ever in that kinda danger, call me. Don't wait for the teachers to fail you again. I'll give 'em Hell." I was stunned, and, once I realized what'd just happened, I smiled. That's one of the few redeeming qualities about my father. As toxic and narcissistic as he was, he was an expert on bringing vengeance to those who deserved it.
During my suspension, one of the bullies' parents wanted to press assault charges on me, but my father threatened to counter-sue the school AND the parents for letting the bullying go on for so long. Thankfully, nobody had to go to court as the bullies' credibility sank faster than the Titanic. Once word got around that I fought back to stop the bullying (rather than the strong, quiet guy going psycho,) more kids decided to come forward to the principal about their experience being bullied, too, and how they also went to the teachers for help. This included a few girls who were being sexually harassed by these kids. This was a PR nightmare for the school that left a permanent stain on their reputation among the locals. In the end, the bullies got expelled, some faced charges for sexual harassment, and I got transferred to a different high school. I guess I'm a little proud that I inspired some other troubled kids to come forward, but I really didn't like violence. I'm built for self-defense, but I don't like hurting anybody unless it's to protect those I love. I would've much preferred if teachers actually did their job, and "took care of it" before I had to.
I did get a gift certificate for summer classes in Krav Maga for my Sweet 16. Thankfully, I've never had to use it yet.
TL;DR: Bullies spend months torturing me, and teachers won't do anything, so I researched and imitated an advanced martial arts to bring maximum physical pain to my bullies.
(source) story by (/u/aitacrybaby)
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