#like not to be a fucking cop but maybe we don't have to follow every single idea to its most extreme logical conclusion

[graysongraysoff]

We talk a lot about the puriteens reinventing sexism and stuff but sometimes I feel like we're getting close to an extremely selfish and hedonistic anarchy on the terminally online zillennial end of the spectrum I'll be honest

[mostlygibberish]

I'm beginning to think I should just stop trying to watch slasher movies.

[evilminji]

...Wait. ACTUALLY???

The Portal is basically a doorway right? Big ol solid and sustained gateway from Realm A to Universe B? Unlike the brief blips of natural portals?

As IN... a Ring could therefore, theoretically, send out it's Search For Willpower. EXE vibes? Hit the portal -> go THROUGH the portal -> and continue expanding as the search continued until it hit a Confirmed Match(tm)?

You know... somebody INCREDIBLY SUPER LIKELY to match? Like... say... a Dead Green Lantern who? Had the WILL to continue on as a Ghost? Probably would get priority over any untested "new" Lantern candidates? Since they are somehow both in the system and not?

Recognized, yet a different species somehow?

The Rings records mark them deceased. Yet here they are, without a Ring. Which they OBVIOUSLY need, as Lanterns. Because once a Lantern, always a Lantern. Nyooom~ off it goes.

Off? Probably a whole SHIT TON of them go. Like? A truely, TRUELY alarming amount.

Think hundreds of thousands, suddenly wrenching themselves free of their stands and SHOOTING into the sky. Yes, a few at a time is normal. Day in, day out. Hundreds a day.

Not upwards of millions.

Not all at once.

A SEA of green orbs shooting up into the night sky like shooting stars. So many it chokes the sky. Drives everything to a stand still. All of them going the same direction. Some... EVENT... has just happened and no one knows what it is.

You have no choice but to follow them. Figure out where they are going and what's DRAWING them. You fly for weeks. Take shifts, following them. Alarm countless innocent people and more then a few governments.

It's....? Earth? Fuck. Of COURSE it had to be that God forsaken rock. EVERYTHING seems to come from there! Do you have ANY IDEA how many Lanterns they have stationed there by now? Multiple times the amount ENTIRE QUADRENTS usually take.

Why is it ALWAYS that planet?? Someone call Hal and his merry band of migraines. They're coming in hot. And NO, we CANT stop them. Don't bother asking. We ALSO have no idea where they're headed.

Think about being in Amity. Quiet day for once. You don't trust it. Something gonna happen, you can FEEL it.

A ring shoots past you. Then another. And another. Then dozens. Hundreds. THOUSANDS. Green, glowing, and like they were shot from a gun. The sky hailing ghost jewelry because God hate Amity specifically, apparently, and FUCK your premiums. You dive for your car.

Watch, baffled, at the Fenton house is SWARMED. The local crack pots are trying to shoot at RINGS. Failing to hit a single one. The swarm organized, writhing, and gracefully ALIVE somehow.

Aliens shoot past your car. They're wearing LANTERN get ups. Fighting the local crackpots. The sky is FULL of Lanterns now. Oh god, first Ghosts, now Aliens. Your mother was right. You SHOULD have stayed in Ohio with her sister.

The Rings break the Fenton's door down. The clattering is CACOPHONOUS as they push and shove to race inside. You watch the doorway. Some instinct telling you not to look away. Even as Lanterns and crazy people are shooting at each other not yards away.

Watch. The. Door.

Ghosts come back out. ALIEN Ghosts. Wearing LANTERN rings. Your jaw drops as they just... just KEEP coming. Every last one of them wearing a ring. You struggle to remember how many there WERE. As the sky turns GREEN. As Amity truely DOES become the most haunted place... anywhere.

You're pretty sure in the oceans of GREEN you spot the Justice League. You DEFINITELY spot Phantom. Thank god. No Spooks ever get away with shady nonsense on HIS watch, so whatever happening? 'S gonna get sorted.

And JUST? As you think... maybe, JUST maybe... you could just? Inch your car into drive, and sloooowly get the fuck out of whatever THIS mess it? Those white suited crazy people from the Feds show up and start trying to ARREST the SPACE COPS. For not letting them take unprovoked attacks on OTHER Space Cops!

Oh Shit(tm).

@hdgnj @ailithnight @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes

[peppermintquartz]

The views in Sydney would be great if it would just stop fucking raining.

Seriously annoyed, Rocker strides back to the lobby. He nods at a handful of Aussie cops from the Tactical Operations Unit (TOU) that led the seminar today and spies Deacon scrolling through his phone.

"Deac, hey. It's still pissing out there and I'm already starving," Rocker tells him.

Deacon sighs. "Room service?"

"Can we charge it to LAPD?"

"They already cut costs with us sharing a hotel room," Deacon says, smiling, "so they better cough up the money for a proper meal."

There are other officers from the States, but Rocker isn't all that into socializing at the moment. He is still jetlagged to hell after four days of workshops, presentations and demonstrations. Tomorrow is the last day, full of speeches and thank yous, and Rocker is bored just thinking about it.

At least it's Deacon out here with him. Hondo can be preachy and that gets on Rocker's nerves, while Luca is a horrible person to share a room with. Tan, Rocker's first choice, is currently preparing to take the sergeant's exam.

And back home, what does Rocker have to look forward to outside of work? His apartment, his painting, and his Russian literature. God, life as a divorced man is depressing.

Deacon is someone Rocker wants to become: steady, calming, assured. Sure he has his flaws, but Deacon doesn't try to talk down to Rocker even if he has every right to do so.

Besides, Rocker knows that he's 50-David only because Deacon dropped out of consideration, and ever since then, Rocker has actively sought out Deacon's advice whenever he can. It's created a strong bond between them, the two former 2ICs to a couple of SWAT legends. He doesn't like having to follow Hondo's orders sometimes, but Deacon? He'll follow Deacon right into hell if Deacon asks him to.

Rocker doesn't want to think about what that says about him.

---

They had dinner at the tiny table in the room, and then they open up the bottle of wine they were given by one of the sergeants here as a welcome gift.

"I'm just saying, if they make me ride that horse again..." Rocker says, about three-quarters through the bottle, while Deacon laughs at the memory of the Mounted Police picking Rocker to try a couple of horseback riding maneuvers. Despite Rocker's best attempts, the horse just did not have any respect for him.

"Oh, you didn't have any dreams of being a cowboy?" Deacon teases.

Rocker scrunches his nose. "I'm a city boy through and through. Sure, kid me wanted to ride a bucking bronco, but I'm not four years old anymore."

The image of Rocker riding one of those mechanical bulls flashes into Deacon's mind. And he keeps his mind there for a moment.

"You'll look good doing it," he says at last.

"That's because I make everything look pretty," Rocker says, grinning, his cheeks pink from the wine. Deacon can't disagree; Rocker is stupidly attractive with his dark brown curls and strong features and that buff body. Unaware of Deacon's train of thought, Rocker sighs. "I like getting out of LA for these sort of trips, but the jetlag sucks."

Deacon agrees. "I'd like it more if we could go around the city or maybe venture out further. Seems such a waste being stuck indoors." He thinks about it. "No, I take that back. Running around the city means I'm actually on a case."

"Ha, I heard about Thailand. You guys have the worst luck."

"It's all Hondo, I swear."

Rocker raises an eyebrow. "But you're loyal to him."

"I'm loyal to my team," Deacon corrects. "No matter who leads it."

"Even if it's me?"

Deacon narrows his eyes. "Are you trying to poach me over to 50-squad?"

"Stevens would kill me if I swapped him out for you," Rocker says, and then he sighs. "I like working with you though. You're so... graceful. Contained."

"You're not too bad yourself," says Deacon. He reaches over and squeezes Rocker's biceps. "I mean, all that beef on you. And you're very easy on the eyes. Plus, don't tell anyone I said so, but I like when you smile so wide your whole face scrunches up."

"Really?" Rocker asks, smiling in that exact way now, as if he's been given a gift he wanted all year.

Deacon doesn't remove his hand. He likes the way his tanned skin contrasts against Rocker's paler complexion. As if looking through a screen, he sees his thumb rubbing over the patch of skin, and Rocker's muscle jumps under the caress.

"Deac?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, about to draw back his hand when he looks at Rocker again. And he stops moving. Stops breathing.

The downpour outside becomes louder. The heavens seem to want to drown out everything other than this room, render the passage of time meaningless.

Rocker swallows and licks his lips. Deacon's gaze snaps to the tip of the pink tongue peeking out, and everything in him screams for him to taste it.

The next thing he knows, he's got one hand in the back of Rocker's head, his fingers digging into short hair, and his mouth is locked over the other man's lips.

Rocker doesn't even resist, tilting his head as his thick arms go around Deacon's waist and back. He actually whines when Deacon pulls away briefly, but Deacon doesn't leave him for long; he straddles the younger man and resumes the kiss, one hand tangled into the short, damp curls of Rocker's hair and the other cradling his lightly-stubbled jaw. When he settles his weight on Rocker's lap, he encounters a heated hardness.

Gasping, Deacon pulls back from the kiss. What am I doing?

Below him, Rocker's blue eyes are blown dark, his fair cheeks pink and rosy, and his lips swollen and wet. He blinks up at Deacon, a soft, inquiring sound emerging from his throat. His hands - massive hands, always so sure and confident - tremble where they're placed on Deacon's body. He licks his lips again.

Deacon's pulse races in his chest while his own cock thickens with desire. He's done this. He's done this to Rocker, who's always, always confident. As if to test his theory, Deacon rocks his hips a little, and Rocker moans, lips parting, his broad chest heaving.

"Please," Rocker whispers, his voice so quiet and broken that Deacon can't tell if Rocker meant to say it at all.

He pulls off his own shirt and then removes Rocker's. A dull pink flush spreads over Rocker's chest. Deacon rubs his thumbs over the erect nipples, making Rocker whimper and rock up. The sensation causes every single nerve in Deacon's body to feel like he's been shocked with electricity.

He wants more of it.

"Just this once," he finds himself saying. "Just once."

"Okay," Rocker agrees too readily, and pulls Deacon close.

[thewinterpoet2]

ROXANNE

Jake Peralta x Reader

In which the reader is a secret vocalist outside of work as a detective in the 99th precinct, Jake becomes suspicious which leads to feelings rising to the surface.

WARNINGS: Swearing, themes of crime, theft, interrogation.

Word count: 15,654

Y/N~ Your Name

L/N~ Last Name

The first time Jake started to become suspicious of Y/N was on a random Thursday in December.

It was nearing Christmas which meant crime in Brooklyn had reached a new level of stupid, leading every Detective and Beat Cop to internally curse every black Friday sale to hell for eternity.

The squad of the 99th Precinct tended to be divided around the holidays, Boyle sprung into action, in true Boyle fashion, buying ridiculously expensive gifts for, well, everyone.

Santiago spent countless hours writing Christmas cards, and for the fifth year in a row, apologised incessantly to an exhausted UPS driver as she reluctantly returned all her holiday gifts for Captain Holt.

Gina loved Christmas and celebrated, to some, in what would be a very unusual way. But in her defence, setting up a PO box for her fans, meant she could have a very cheap Christmas. Thrifty and entrepreneurial, that's Gina.

Whereas, some members of the squad weren't as keen on Christmas. We know how Jake feels about Thanksgiving and with no suprise, this translates to his views around Christmas, too.

Rosa Diaz, although she hides it very well, spends Christmas with her family every year. Now her sexuality was out in the open, the healing her family went through have led, thankfully, to a much closer relationship. Rosa would never say this out loud, but knowing that they're fighting in her corner, is the best gift she could have ever asked for.

Oh, but if you asked she'd definitely tell you to "Mind your own fucking business before I get involved in yours" and according to her, "you definitely don't want that, do you?"

Jake Peralta was a great detective but a tricky human being. To put it bluntly, Jake hated Christmas. He hated carols, trees, "little scary elves that show up everywhere", and most of all, romcoms. Jake despised hallmark romance films. Was it because he was single for the 8th Christmas in a row? Who could tell, but he'd certainly deny it if anyone had the courage to ask.

Y/N, was definitely the wildcard out of the squad, especially when it came to the holidays. She'd told every detective the same bullshit tale of how she was going back to England to see her family for the holidays, how her least favourite gift is socks, how more than anything she hates carolling. Because, jesus, no one wants to hear her sing!

Detective L/N was a liar, for many reasons. Yes she was from England but she actually didn't mind socks and the biggest lie of all, maybe she'd convinced the detectives they wouldn't want to hear her sing... But her bandmates and their followers definitely did.

See, Y/N wasn't just a Detective, she was a trained singer, performer and songwriter. After work she tended to dodge Shaw's to head to band practice or straight to a gig, not that anyone had figured that out of course.

Not yet anyway.

Tne first time Jake became suspicious of Y/N was on a random Thursday in December.

Jake and Y/N were in the middle of interrogating a perp, nothing too gruesome or inhumane, a couple counts of petty theft and something that would hopefully have led to a new lead about a future bank heist.

William Dobson was his name.

"Why do all these perps have such boring names, why isn't he called Franco Goldminer"

Peralta turned around, slamming an evidence file onto the nearest desk. Y/N looked unamused at the topic of conversation but not surprised, it was Jake after all.

"Because I'm pretty sure 'Franco Goldminer' is A) too obvious for a criminal B) kind of ironic and C) sounds like an idiot that still lives with his mum in his 30s"

Jake's eyes twinkled at her quick and easy retort, not that she'd have seen that of course.

"Nah I stand by it, he's got a dumb name"

Scoffing Y/N stopped reading the provided statement, sighing in conclusion, rubbing her face with her hands,

"So we've got nothing, Jesus."

Peralta let out a sigh of annoyance,

"L/N why don't you go talk to him, I'll watch and see if he opens up to you"

Giving a cheeky grin he continued,

"I would say you could try annoy him into talking but you basically do that anyway"

Slapping his shoulder Y/N walked straight back into interrogation, ignoring his laughter trailing behind her.

William looks up at Y/N, recognition dawning on his face.

Fuck, this wasn't good.

"So Dobson, recount the night of the 16th for me again, seems some details don't match up from the tapes-"

Mid sentence you're cut off,

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Y/N made a sound of aggravation at being cut off

"Small world, lots of people. Anyway the footage shows a different time to the one you claim you-"

"Roxanne on 5th right?"

Shit, shit, SHIT. Y/N's blood ran cold at the name of the club she performs at, it's nice to meet fans, just not in the middle of an interrogation.

Fuck she had to play this off cool, nochelant, like nothing happened.

"I don't care about your personal life Dobson, you're here because you're a criminal. Distraction techniques won't work with me, I don't recall being your best friend, Sir"

Awesome she thought, professional and managed to get an insult in at the same time.

"aren't you in that ba-"

Slamming her file onto the table

"Jesus give it a rest you don't know me"

Y/N's voice came out high pitched, aggravated and very, well, unlike her. This was enough to peek Peralta's interest from behind the glass, this wasn't the Y/N he knew, his coworker who hated anything boring but rarely took risks.

Hands up in defeat, Dobson backs down and the interrogation continues as it was before, absolutely useless.

What Y/N didn't know is Peralta was on the other side of the glass, a puzzled expression on his face;

This was the day Jake Peralta made it his mission to investigate further.

"Who are you Y/N?" He mumbled.

A few weeks later, Jake stopped going to Shaws with the squad.

This in itself was confusing for his fellow detectives, Boyle was practically heartbroken thinking that he'd done something to scare his best friend off.

This led to Boyle doing everything he could to try and entice Jake to their bar, regardless of how weird it was.

Boyle is Boyle, he's very extra, but he's got such a big heart and that's all that mattered to Jake.

However, Charles' interference was only causing Jake more stress, his plan needed to be a secret to be able to make this work.

It was a Friday night, the day before New Year's Eve. Y/N had requested annual leave tomorrow, something that was rarely granted on holiday's (thanks again New York) Jake managed to find this much out from a single conversation with Gina, oh, and because the holiday schedule was on a public server but that seemed too easy.

If he wasn't suspicious before, he definitely was now, something was in the water and he simply had to know what was going on.

It's not like Jake was OBSESSED with Y/N, he just wanted to know her on a more personal level and she made that incredibly difficult.

"I like to keep myself to myself, work is work, home is home. Keep them separate"

Her beautiful voice repeated the devastating series of words more times than he'd have liked to have heard them. Never. None. No thanks.

He'd invited her to Shaw's so many times he'd lost count, he'd asked if she wanted to watch Die Hard at his apartment, he'd even asked if he could do more overtime so he could spend more time with her. In the 6 years he'd worked with her he'd made absolutely zero progress, it's hard to fancy someone that doesn't acknowledge your existence.

Jake thinks Y/N is perfect.

Plain and simple.

Starring at her, lost in thought. He thinks about her eyes, how he wishes one day she'd look at him with the same love and happiness he looked at her with. He wonders what their kids would look like, okay Jake that's a bit far you're sounding a bit like Charles, he internally scolds himself.

"JAKE" Y/N snapped her fingers to get his attention, a look that can only be described as concern adorning her features.

"Huh? Oh yes, yes. I agree, yes let's do that. Whatever it was you said" He rambled at the speed of light, pretending to have acknowledged the last 20 mins that don't exist in his mind.

A smirk grew on Y/N's face, something he barely saw but made him feel like the room just got 20 times hotter.

"Oh so you were listening, yeah? Fabulous, so we can go ahead and schedule the hip replacement..."

Jake's eyes grew wide, babbling out some incoherent nonsense he managed to find two words; "HIP REPLACEMENT?"

Y/N couldn't hold back anymore and cried with laughter, barely being able to form any words.

"I was talking to you about someone I booked using their need for a hip replacement as an excuse, I joked she could use yours" wiping away tears, Y/N's laughter dies down seeing his daze and confusion.

"Are you okay, Jake?" Starring him down, he does what he does best, panics.

"I have to go" Jake stands up bolts out the room at top speed, leaving a very concerned Y/N.

Y/N has always liked Jake, he's bubbly, silly, but cares so much about everyone in his life, he'd go above and beyond for anyone and that's something you can't buy. She has wanted to let him into her personal life for a while but mixing personal and professional has never worked in her favour so she stops herself from letting things get weird and complicated again. Life is as complicated as she makes it after all.

Tomorrow Y/N's band were performing at Roxanne again for their NYE party, she was debuting the title song of their new cover album. Y/N has always been such a huge Fleetwood Mac fan, so "Go Your Own Way" definitely made the cut, providing, Jamie and Simon (her bandmates) were okay with that of course. She was excited, finally time to let her hair down and shed any stress from work.

Jake, after running out at top speed, took to his phone, made a few calls and booked a table tomorrow night for nine people.

At Roxanne.

Jake, Charles, Rosa, Amy, Terry, Captain Holt, Gina, Sully and Hitchcock.

And Y/N had no idea.

Well, neither did anyone other than Jake. This was going to be interesting.

The morning of NYE came and Y/N was ecstatic, eating breakfast at lighting speed, grabbing a coffee, brushing her teeth and then heading to the subway, felt like seconds. You know what they say, time flies when you're having fun.

Y/N arrived at Roxanne at just gone 1pm and immediately hugged Jamie who gave a huge grin seeing her arrival.

"Hi baby! Don't you look a treat, you excited for later?"

Blushing and hitting his shoulder Y/N laughed at his brash complimenting.

"Yeah, yeah, save it Jame, where's your boyfriend? He better not be hiding, we're fucked without him"

"Right here gorgeous"

Y/N jumped and let out a sharp gasp seeing him right behind her.

"Don't scare me like that, dick!"

Laughing he pulled her into a hug.

"Ready to blow the world away with your pipes tonight angel?"

Laughing gently she said "As ready as I'll ever be, right let's practice idiots. Then we can grab some food before we have to change"

Y/N had her mind free from work and Jake, but for Jake, well that was another story.

To Jake this was a stakeout, he had no idea whether he'd find a Mafia organisation or nothing at all. He phoned up Roxanne to ask about the event but all they said was to "Check the damn website, it's not 1942 anymore" and the website hadn't been updated in months.

Jake was terrified.

An afternoon turned into the evening and soon Y/N was slipping on a red sequined dress, black knee high boots, two lace black gloves, smokey, dark makeup and her hair was in curls, ready to take to the stage.

Roxanne was bustling already and it had only just gone 8, she was on in 30 mins and this was their moment.

Warmed up and excited, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she jumped up and down to hype herself up, she had got this.

Jake on the other hand, was only just getting ready, nothing too extravagant just a classic shirt, no tie and a jacket, but a clean jacket so it counts, right? The table was booked for 9 and he had no idea what was going to happen or what would be uncovered.

5 minutes to their opening call, Jamie, Simon and Y/N were all hugging and hyping up each other, knowing this was going to be the performance of a lifetime.

The crowd are cheering already, the bar is stacked and there's no space in the room, the floor is filled to the brim full of people and the only remaining space is one singular table on the balcony of the club, a reserved sign sitting neatly in the center.

"LADIES, THEYDIES AND GENTLEMEN, TONIGHT WE TAKE YOU INTO THE NEW YEAR IN STYLE, YOU KNOW THEM, YOU LOVE THEM, IT'S 'CRIME ME A RIVER"

Running out onto the stage, the heat from the stage lights hit Y/N and then everything changed, her body felt warm and she'd never felt more comfortable. The first notes started of Go Your Own Way and she took a breath then started to sing.

Loving you

Isn't the right thing to do

How can I ever change things

That I feel?

The crowd scream at the sound of her voice, the sweet melody carrying through the entire club, out the doors, into the night.

If I could

Baby, I'd give you my world

How can I

When you won't take it from me?

Y/N can't help but think about Jake as she sings, music really is true to the heart and god what her heart wants more than anything is him.

You can go your own way

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day

You can go your own way

Go your own way

Jake and the squad pull up to the club, Terry already confused about why they're at such a random location on NYE when they could be at Shaws or "somewhere that doesn't look straight out of the Rocky Horror Picture Show"

Squeezing through the crowd blocking the entrance to the club, Jake heard Amy gasp.

"Oh my god, Jake"

"No fucking way" Rosa chimed in.

"This is unexpected" Gina remarked.

"Terry did not see this coming" Terry exclaimed.

Tell me why

Everything turned around

Packing up

Shacking up is all you want to do

Looking at his shocked colleagues, Jake followed their eyeline to the stage, seeing Y/N he unconsciously held his breath. She looked out of this world, so out of character from the person he shares a desk space with, but at the same time, she'd never looked more, her. His heart beating faster than the beat of the music, he turned to look at the squad once more, seeing Rosa's smirk, Amy's disbelief, Terry's enjoyment, Boyle squealing like a child at Jake's reaction.

"Oh Jakey, I knew you liked her, I knew it, I can't wait to be best man at your wedding" Charles then carried on monologuing but it all drowned out to Jake who only heard Y/N, oh boy, could she sing.

If I could

Baby, I'd give you my world

Open up

Everything's waiting for you

During this moment he imagined Y/N was singing directly to him, his heart fluttered and in that moment he knew he had to tell Y/N, he just had to. Or he'd explode.

You can go your own way

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day

You can go your own way

Go your own way

All the squad started pushing past the crowd to try and get as near to the stage as possible, ignoring their table completely (well apart from Hitchcock and Scully) cheering, dancing and having a great time. Enjoying every second.

On the last note of Y/N's performance she took a breath and basked in the screaming of the crowd.

"THANK YOU! MY NAME IS Y/N AND WE'RE HERE SO YOU CAN HAVE A GOOD TIME, DO WE WANT A GOOD TIME?"

Hearing a scream of "YES" she continued by saying "OKAY SO HERE'S OUR NEXT SONG, THIS ONE IS A BIT DIFFERENT, IT'S MORE OF A POWER BALLED, ARE WE READY?"

But before the first note could be sang Y/N made direct eye contact with Jake, who was fondly shaking his head in disbelief. She smiled widely and blushed a deep red.

She knew they'd talk after, and he did too. But for now she'd show how she loved him by showing him who she really was, Unapologetically and he loved nothing more.

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this fic, might do a part 2, if you want to be added to a taglist or if you want a part 2 full stop please let me know:) unedited so it's definitely not perfect haha. Enjoy!

#jakeperalta #jakeperaltaxreader #brooklyn99 #brooklyn99fanfic #brooklyn99jake #jake #jakeperalta #jacobperaltaxreader #xreader #charlesboyle #rosadiaz #amysantiago #captainholt #terryjeffords #ginalinetti #scully #hitchcock

[simpjaes]

can we have a maybe part 2 of policeman!jake who takes you out on a few dates and you end up fucking in his car everytime, and later on maybe if you feel like it become something official???

police officer jake! x afab reader part 2 drabble // part one here

this is fluffy as all hell.

The thing about fucking a cop is like, it was fun while it lasted but he reminded you at the end of it, cum all in your shirt simply because he pulled out and didn't want to get any on the patrol car, that he really does have to start ticketing you.

When you looked sad, of course he was quick to follow up with a

"You don't need to commit crimes to get my attention, you know?"

And like, you liked speeding. You liked the way the adrenaline would rush solely for the hot officer that would always pull over and give you warnings with a flirty smile.

You guess it's only natural that he'd actually have to start doing his job at some point, especially after you already gave yourself up to him and ended the game of cop vs slutty crime girl.

You did get his personal number out of it though, which led to several dates where the handsome officer became a regular citizen in some regard. You saw his personal style, with his less combed hair, and his loose t-shirts and jeans.

Arguably, he looked just as good in uniform as he looked out of it. Everything about him turns you on, and he knows it.

With chuckles and smiles throughout dates when you turn every genuine conversation to get to know you into something sexual.

Like when he asked what you do for fun, you off handedly stated "try to get you to pull me over."

Of course, after each date he would also live up to all of your remarks, driving you around in his very normal car and parking in that same spot he had you the first time before dropping you at home.

Always the same thing. His cock pulled out of the zipper of his unbuttoned pants, and you as spread out as you can be in his back seat. Sometimes bent over, sometimes riding it. It really depended on the date.

It was nice though, seeing the difference between his polite and kind self try and talk through a date like he wasn't leaking all in his pants at the outfits you wear or the words you say to him.

After several dates, you invite him into your home. Which he rejects, solely because he believes he should be inviting you to his place. Which, he does do.

"Your place?" He laughed, scanning the way you rub your legs together in the passenger seat. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"The kind who will finally fuck me in a house rather than his car?"

He laughed at you again, fondly smirking at the girl he's grown so fond of.

"Well, yes." He admitted before turning the car around. "Would rather see your clothes on my floor though."

You weren't one to argue then, and you certainly aren't one to argue now. Especially with the way he has you in his bed, bouncing and moaning, feeling and seeing him in full for the first time.

With his pretty flushed cheeks and that same bitten smile as he watches you bounce freely, without the confines of car doors or ceilings holding you from moving too much.

It felt like it went on for hours, probably because it did. Over and over again. In his bed, on his bathroom floor, kitchen counter, living room couch. It just kept going, and going.

Every hour or so the two of you would be ready to go again, without fail.

And by the next morning, when you woke up in his messy and dirty sheets next to him, you realized it's the first time you ever slept over with a man you wanted to hook up with.

It was also the first time a man has ever woken up, smiled at you, and ate you out as his breakfast before making you your breakfast.

Oh, right, also the first time you've ever considered a simple fantasy of fucking a cop as not just a fantasy and perhaps more than that.

Especially with the way he drives you home, kisses you on the forehead, and stood awkwardly, not quite letting you go.

He wanted to say something and time was running out, simply because he genuinely did have to go to work and patrol the streets of people who aren't you.

You encourage him with another kiss, squishing your chest in your arms and bouncing slightly.

He laughs at your antics, wondering how someone like you could be interested in someone like him. His eyes staring directly at the bounce of your tits when he finally just says it.

"We should like, date, or be together, or something...i don't know."

Your answer wasn't a mystery to either of you, but still, he knew he had to ask. Mostly because he doesn't want any of his other cop friends spreading out into his territory and eyeing you down much like he did upon that first speeding ticket you received.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Love on the brain

Ch 2.

Series Master list

CW: check the main master list for warnings.

It has been three days since the fight you had with your husband. During that time, the police interviewed you, asking if you would like to press charges. You were on the fence but, in the end, decided not to go through with it. There was an inkling of hope that him having the cops called with the threat of ruining his career would be enough to get that damn divorce and from there you'd figure it the fuck out. The clinic had given you information on domestic violence and different hot lines to call for help. There was the option of going to a women's shelter but you weren't going to put your children through that indignity. All three of them have had enough of that.

Kenny's mother had come by the house on day two. She had with her a roast and a sorry apology on behalf of her son. The woman was detestable, who could raise a man so cruel and then say “Maybe if you did your wifely duties right, he wouldn't act this way.” After she said that Kenny would stay at her house and that she would bring the pastor and him by so everyone could come to Jesus.

It had taken every ounce of your being not to swing on her. If you stayed, you were sure you'd be meeting Jesus face to face, so that he could ask you “Child, why didn't you take the boat we sent you?”.

At the same time, though, you knew you were in a rock and a hard place. You and your children were immigrants. You were a stay at home mom, which in hindsight was stupid. Until you knew for certain how you were going to house and feed your kids, you were stuck because money was a thing, and children couldn't live off of hope and love.

“Mom!” Jabari came running into the kitchen, he was out of breath and had a big fat grin on his face. “Mr Price is at the door!”

You stopped chopping the celery for dinner and wiped your hands on your apron. John Price had been nice enough to come to you and your family's rescue three days ago, and you felt bad that you didn't have the time to thank him. You peaked out the back door window to check on the girls, both of them happily playing with dolls together. Jada was busy trying to explain to Jayla the little storyline that was being played out, and Jayla was only too happy to just be included. After making sure they were okay, you followed the sounds of Jabari excitedly chattering away by the door.

“Actually Mr.Price, I'm like the best when it comes to rugby. It's sorta like football except without the padding!” Jabari laughed.

“You play football?” John had asked.

“The American football, sir.” He answered, “but honestly, I'll play any sport as long as it has a ball. I tried to get mom to let me play hockey once, but she said her pockets could only take so much.”

“Jabari, don't have this man thinking we're poor.” You scold as you scruff him by the neck. Your voice doesn't match the scolding, though. You sound absolutely smitten by your son and how he's in a good mood again. The last three days, he's been hovering around you and his sisters and insisting that you all should sleep in the same bed. He only wiggles out of your grip and laughs.

“Run along so the adults can talk.” You tell him.

“But mom” He whines loudly, holding onto your arm.

“Listen soldier,” John smiles at him, “how about you give me and your mum a few minutes and after I'll get the guys to play a game with you, your choice.”

Jabari doesn't need to be told twice, and he is dashing off to his room, saying that he is gonna teach the Brits about real football. You only laugh and shake your head before turning to John. Your body feels warm from embarrassment, which is more like shame, to be honest. Shame that he had seen you and your children at your lowest, and that was his first time meeting you.

“Uhm…” You search for the words, the right words that convey how thankful you are. “Listen, thank you for-.”

He stops you before any more words could be said, “You don't need to thank me for doing the right thing, miss.” His eyes, so pretty and blue and surprisingly warm. When was the last time you even had someone look at you with such warmth and understanding?

You can't bear to hold his gaze any longer, and you look away. “John, I have to pay you and your friends back for intervening. It would make me feel okay.”

He doesn't say anything else and just hums once. “Is he coming back?”

You don't say anything and cross your arms around your stomach. You want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. When the silence is loud and clear, you expect judgment. Instead, he just hums in thought again.

“I never got your name miss.” He says.

“It's Imani.” You finally look back at him. He's now leaning against the frame of the doorway, a thoughtful look on him. John nods his head once and smiles. There's still no judgment.

“Well, I want to leave you my number and the boys’ number so you can call us no matter what.” He's already pulling out his phone.

“Oh, John, I couldn't-” You're shocked, that's for sure.

“No choice, Miss.” He is firm on this decision, and somehow that makes you flustered. “I already spoke to the guys, and we very much want to make sure you and the kids are safe, at least until the bloke is handled for good.” His voice drops low at the mention of your husband.

You don't say anything else as you pull your old little phone out from your apron pocket and let him input his number and his roommates numbers into your phone. He then gets your number just as Jabari comes running back to the front door. He's got his football, and he's pulling on John's hand to take him to the backyard.

“Come on Mr.Price!” Jabari is insistent, “we just gotta make sure we stay out of Jada and Jayla's play party. The girls get testy when you bother them.” He laughed.

“Sure thing, soldier, just let me call the guys over, and we can get to it.” He looks to you asking for permission.

You only nod with a smile, “I don't mind, stay out of my flower beds…” you bite your lip between your teeth, deciding to take a risk, “We're having chicken and dumplings tonight, you all can stay over for dinner.”

John is clearly surprised, but Jabari is already answering for him. “Yeah, Mr. Price and his friends would love to stay!”

“Jabari.” You warn, but your son is already pulling John along to the back kitchen door.

As soon as the two of them were outside, your son could be heard yelling over the fence. “Don't worry about the front door, Mr.Johnny, just hop the fence!”

“I hope that boy doesn't make it a habit of hopping the fence.” You mumble and get back to working on dinner.

When dinner comes, your dining room table has the leaf put in, and four extra chairs pulled up. Each one of the very solid men at the table is covered in grass stains and is laughing (well ¾) with your children about the impromptu football game.

“You really are quick on your feet.” Kyle says to Jabari, “you must be a right terror on the field.”

“Jabari is quick because mom says that he got his speed from out running Nana's switch.” Jada is busy sitting her doll in Simon's lap, ignoring her brother's squawks of protest, “you two have to share a seat since that's where Anni normally sits.”

Simon, to his credit, takes it all in stride and only grunts in agreement. He isn't wearing the skull mask from before, just a plain black one. It's ridiculous really, seeing him hold the raggedy Anne doll so politely.

“So Imani lass, ya’ve been here for a few months, ya likin’ it's far?” Johnny (who, for some reason, Jabari has been allowed to call Soap).

You bring out the large pot as he's asking this and set it down on the table, “I like it so far, but doing any type of conversion for temperature, shopping and my personal enemy asking for tea and getting hot tea and not cold has been an adjustment.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow, “Cold tea?” There's a look of something on his face. It's the same look you get from Kenny's mother when you put ice in a cup and poor hot sugary tea over it.

By this time, Jabari had brought out the two pitchers of iced tea and set them on the table. “Well duh, how else are you supposed to drink tea?”

“Manners love.” You pinch your brows together, “don't forget he's still an adult.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says and takes his spot right between Johnny and Kyle.

“Kid's alright.” Kyle laughs, “I forgot for a moment that Americans do tea differently.”

You smile and avoid eye contact with him, “The fact that we are having chicken and dumplings with corn muffins should say everything about my thoughts on hot tea versus cold tea.”

“Daddy says when you make tea, mommy, it's enough to give a man diabetes.” Jada pipes up again.

“Sugar in a cup.” Jayla whispers, it's so quiet she giggles.

Everyone is laughing at your exasperated sigh and look that you give your daughters. The cultural differences are cute and funny, and as you look around your table, there comes a sense of peace. It feels for a moment that this is a normal family dinner with which the neighbors just happened to stop by. All the fellas got along just well learning touch football and in a hilarious turn of events Simon was the one roped into the game of tea party.

You're sad that this isn't your reality.

“You all have a good night, and don't hesitate to call if you need anything.” John said as he and his boys left the house. He was pleasantly surprised when Jabari was asking if they could play again soon, and the next time, they would play soccer.

“Aye, it's called football ya wee terror.” Soap had ruffled his hair.

“Well you're on American soil when you're at our house, and we call it soccer!” He ducked from under the man's hand. He was all smiles.

You shook your head and looked back at John, “I will, and thanks again for everything. Jada let Mr. Simon go so he can go home, I don't think he wants to babysit Anni, so you can have me time tonight.”

Poor Simon was bogged down with a pink backpack, a baby's bottle, and a pink stroller. Jada crossed her arms and stared up at you, “But Mr. John just said we could call them! You get me time every time Daddy leaves, why can't I?”

“Okay! Enough talking young ma'am, in the house!” You laugh nervously. You can feel the tension and shame creeping up your spine, but mercifully, none of the men comment on the mention of ‘me time’. After you send your son and daughter into the house, the only one clinging to you is Jayla. Her big wide brown eyes are staring up at John and flickering between him, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon. She waves shyly before darting back into the house.

“I don' mind keeping her doll for the night.” it's the first time that Simon has spoken all evening. You are taken back by both his accent and how deep his voice is.

“Really you-” you begin to say, but he's already taking the doll and all of the doll's things across the lawn. Johnny is cackling, and Kyle is just pinching the bridge of his nose. They both bid you goodnight. John gives you one last lingering smile and a nod.

“Get some rest tonight.” His voice is warm, and it's sweet like the tea that he politely drank at dinner without complaint. They all didn't complain about the dinner and rather enjoyed it quite a bit. It was a far cry from how your husband often critiqued (if calling some of the nastiest things said about your cooking can be called as such).

You watch until John is in his house across the lawn. The fantasy is over and you're hoping to enter that dream-like world again.

“Lass can cook. A shame she cooks fora bastard.” Soap says as he plops down on the couch. “Her weans are ‘dorable though.”

“Jabari can sure dish out a hit.” Kyle sat on the couch next to Soap and put his head in his lap, “that last tackle may have given me a bruise.”

John quietly listens to the guys as they talk about you. There's a thoughtful look on his face as he watches Simon carefully put the doll and its things on the armchair.

Simon looks at him just as he is taking off his mask. “Something on your mind?”

“She isn't leaving him anytime soon.” John goes into the kitchen.

“After he almost tried to kill her three days ago, she isn't leaving?” Kyle seems incredulous.

“It's not that simple.” Simon explains, “She's a foreigner with children, in a strange country, and she is a stay at home mum who depends on her husband's income. She can't leave unless she knows for sure her children will be safe.” Part of Simon feels ill with first hand knowledge of that reality.

It's quiet between the four of them, John speaks first, “We'll just have to help her.” He is ready thinking about how this will all play out if done right. If you're gonna be tied to anybody in a foreign country, it may as well be him and his boyfriends.

You don't know it yet, but the four of them are getting you out safely. And you're going to be safe in their arms.

Chapter 3

Tag list: @leahnicole1219 @uraeus56

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Six - Involved

summary: police begin to question you about a party you weren't present for, but friendships have you involved now cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, language, bullying, monsters oooo author's note: every day I struggle to find content warnings in these chapters.

Thursday, November 10th, 1983

You groaned and scrunched your eyes when you felt Dustin wriggling away from you that morning. "Dustin?" you grunted, rubbing your eyes. "I'm just going to Mike's for a bit. To...mourn?" he said. You were too tired to question the fact that he sounded unsure of what he was doing, so he was gone. A couple hours later when you couldn't fall back asleep, you groaned and checked the time.

11:32

"Fuck's sake..." you sighed, stomping into the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart and begrudgingly driving to school. "Miss Henderson! You're very late!" the secretary squealed, writing a tardy slip. You rolled your eyes, taking the slip and walked to class.

"Hello, y/n. Nice of you to join us," Mrs. Click said, giving you a look. You put your head down and walked to your seat. You ignored Steve staring at you and started scribbling away in your notebook. "Y/n Henderson? Can you come with me, please?" the assistant principal called, standing in the doorway. You grabbed your things and followed her into the cafeteria where two police officers and your mother were sitting waiting for you.

"Hi, y/n. We just wanted to ask you a few questions..." Powell asked, giving you a small smile.

"You're not in trouble, are you, y/n?" your mother whimpered. If she had pearls, she'd be clutching them. You shrugged, "Shouldn't be..." you mumbled.

Powell shook his head, trying to reassure your mother. "No, ma'am, we just need to ask her some questions about a fellow student who may be in danger," he said. Clearly, this man had never met Claudia Henderson. You were certain that made her anxiety about your involvement spike even higher.

They took a few minutes to ask you basic questions about what you had been doing the night Barb disappeared and the day leading up to the party. "And you said that you were invited to the party?" Powell asked. You nodded, pulling a knee up to your chest. "You sure?" Callahan asked. You narrowed your eyes at him, making him back off.

"A-anyway...why didn't you attend the party?" Powell asked, "I didn't want to. I didn't like anyone that was there. And I really didn't feel like going to a party just to get picked on..." you sighed, biting your nails. The cops nodded, making notes of your responses in their notepads. You assumed Callahan's would be the dumbest of the two.

"So, if you didn't like whoever was there why would you pick up a...Nancy Wheeler?" Callahan asked, flipping through his notes.

You shrugged, "I dunno...I don't hate Nancy. Our brothers are friends, so we've known each other for a while, and she needed a ride home. I didn't think anything of it," you said. Powell nodded, "So, after you took Nancy back to yours did she say anything about the party? Anything that happened with Barbara?" he asked. You shook your head, humming a "nope."

"Nothing about why she might have left? No mention of an argument...or a Steve Harrington?" Callahan asked. You pursed your lips and shook your head again. "Nothing. She just wanted to crash at my place so her mom wouldn't get on to her," you made absolutely sure not to mention Jonathan and his pictures to keep him out of trouble. You still wanted to look out for him. You still thought of him as a friend.

"And you think that you saw some kind of bear behind the Harrington kid's house?" Powell asked.

You shrugged, "Something like that. It kinda looked like a really skinny guy in a mask. Really creepy. Me and Nancy both think that maybe whoever it is had something to do with Barb not being around." Callahan leaned his elbows on the table.

"Well, we took a look through the woods behind the house, and we didn't find anyone and there was no car either. We think Barbara came back last night and took off. Maybe ran away. Would you know anything about that?" he asked. You shrugged and shook your head, "I didn't even know Barbara until Nancy asked me for help, so...no," you said. The policemen asked more stupid questions about a party you weren't even present for and released you back to class.

"I'll see you at home, okay? I love you bunches!" your mom said, kissing your cheek. "Love you..." you sighed, walking back into your classroom.

Everyone had moved their desks together and were talking away about projects or who would be at the mall later and Steve sat alone writing in his notes. You silently sat beside him and pulled your notebook out to continue working on your half of the project.

"Um...hey," Steve said quietly.

You glanced at him and nodded, continuing to write in your book. "Did they call you to talk to the cops?" he asked. You nodded again, still trying to focus on writing.

"I wasn't even at the party so...don't know why they even wanted to talk to me," you mumbled. Steve hummed and nodded, not really sure how to talk to you. He was so used to people worshipping the ground he walked on that when he talked to you he was thrown for a loop. You clearly couldn't care less about him, and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Either way, he knew you weren't supposed to be on his mind like you had been.

"I mean...you and Nancy have been hanging out recently, so..." Steve trailed off. He didn't know where he was going with that, but he was curious and wanted to dig and see what changed all of a sudden that made you and Nancy best friends.

"So? That's not their business," you grumbled, your pencil lead snapping. Steve just said a quiet "yeah..." and went back to his side of the project.

"Um, would you maybe wanna come over and work on this? Together?" Steve asked hesitantly when you began packing up your things. You looked at him suspiciously, "You want me to come to your house?" you asked.

Steve stuttered and nodded, "Y-yeah! Why not?" he shrugged.

"Uh, because you're you and I'm the "spaz of Hawkins" duh," you deadpanned.

The bell rang and you took off without answering him any further which Steve took as a big fat "NO." You sighed, stomping into the school's red room and stopped when you saw Jonathan and Nancy standing in there.

"Oh! ...Hey," you said slowly. Jonathan jumped at your arrival and scrambled to cover up what they were doing. "H-hey!" he smiled nervously. You gave him a look then looked at Nancy. "What're you up to?" you asked. Nancy sighed, "I think the pictures Jonathan took at Steve's can help us find out what happened to Barb," she said.

You hummed and nodded, taking a seat at the counter you always sat at. "Cool. What is it?" you asked. "Um...w-we don't know," Jonathan said quietly. You shrugged, "I'll help you," you said. "Really?" Nancy raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't have anything better to do. And...I guess we're friends now, so..." you sighed.

Nancy slowly smiled and nodded, seeming proud of herself. "Nancy thinks that thing my mom's been seeing might've taken her. She said you guys saw something at Steve's," Jonathan said, glancing between you both. You hummed and shrugged, leaning your chin on your hand. "I thought it was just some guy in a mask or something," you shrugged. "No, it sounded like an animal..." Nancy muttered.

You nodded and eyed the picture they were developing. "Maybe it's a monster," you snickered. Nancy rolled her eyes playfully and looked at the picture as it slowly developed. "That's it," Nancy said softly, seeing the creature that formed in the photo.

You leaned on the counter, looking at the photo. "That's exactly it," you nodded. "My mom...I thought she was crazy because she said th-that's not Will's body. That he's alive..." Jonathan said, staring at the picture.

You shook your head, slowly tilting the tub to look closer. "This kind of stuff isn't real..." you whispered. "I guess we were wrong about that..." Nancy mumbled. You nodded, staring down at the photo as it sat as a black square in the tub of acid.

<3

[gentlefangz]

ithink this is what tumblr would be like in the dogman universe: a simulator

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

can those villain asshats get control of those goddamn monsters i have lost literally every single fucking thing thanks to those brainless pieces of shits last week a fucking T-REX SKELETON destroyed my fucking HOUSE and everything around it

🪻 inmylane-1999

how are you able to say those words

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

what words?

🪻 inmylane-1999 the a word, f word, and s word

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

oh i see you're one of the Collardale inhabitants. screw the fuck off your town is a CURSE

🪻 inmylane-1999

what did i do? :(

10 notes

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

hnstly i dont get y Daryl hangs arnd that pig guy hes rlly mean & bad

🐊 piethrowingboss

didnt u help us go after him when he ditched us after the mini jail broke 2 bits?

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

yeh butt hes still rlly mean & i was a lil moar concerned 4 Daryl

🐊 piethrowingboss

ohhhh kk

5 notes

🐕 zupabuddiezthezenutz

zomg did u guyz watch that new mini-documentary w/ Petey The Cat n Zarah Hatoff??? that waz tragickk..

#holy shart i have so much moar respect 4 him now..

6 notes

🔄 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep reblogged

🌆 icareforyou follow

still dont know why people are supporting Petey Duckhat just because of that documentary, didn't he terrorize the city for more than a month or two?? ntm he quite literally MUTILATED Officer Knight and Greg The Dog's bodies bad enough with that bomb to where they had to become that sick and horrible abomination i have to stomach through seeing on the news every week.

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

i know right?? like hes genuinely a horrible cat but people are supporting him for no other reason other than "oh hes a victim!!" like shut the fuck up and grow up.

comicpanel-deactivated-98325749857

op i wouldn't say DogMan is sick and horrible, he seems to be in great condition despite such an accident and hard surgery to conduct, and looks perfectly happy. while i don't support Petey Duckhat either, you took it a step further and suggested that DogMan is currently in conditions horrible enough to render him an "abomination".

🌆 icareforyou follow

dont you post tips for fucking evil monsters on your blog.

#LMAOOO dude was SLAUGHTERED so hard they deactivated #redogs

1,509 notes

🌭 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep

walking on the street with a small can of living spray in my pocket and the nearest cop explodes into blood guts and viscera

10 notes

🦷 bigmonsterinyourheart

okay i get that Dr. Scum is a real and kinda sucky person and all that but his labcoat kinda fucks!!

0 notes

✨ lookatthestars

Hot take or whatever but I don't think we should trust a guy who gets really distracted by squirrels and balls and a kitten who could easily get hurt to protect our city. Lightning Dude IS one of the better options as they ARE a highly durable and strong robot, but The Bark Knight and Cat Kid maybe aren't our best bets, they could get hurt easily and aren't exactly professionals.

Don't get me started on the Friendly Friends, I don't think we can trust two guys who JUST left the same exact trio that was responsible for that marshmallow factory's destruction (which left many injured, some DEAD), what if they're pretending? Also the bugs could easily get killed, they're small and fragile, the most work they can do without a high risk of getting smashed is spying on villains.

Commander Cupcake's a different story, as I'm pretty sure that guy only helped out, like, 3 times.

#anti-supa buddies #anti-friendly friends #twinkle twinkle little star

15 notes

🪁 lalalalala89

dude imagine if we were in a book rn and ppl were posting on tumblr abt us

0 notes

🎠 supastarr

remember, calico trans toms are perfectly valid! even cis toms can be calicos, and fur pattern doesn't determine exact gender, especially with fur dying technology nowadays! :)

506 notes

[squiddleknitted]

Watching the new James Somerton apology.

Bold move monetising your apology video. The revenue will go to HBomberGuy! Or Wikipedia maybe!?

The focus on how so many people were nice to him feels like he's suggesting nobody should criticise him now that he's been forgiven by the people he personally and directly wronged.

There's an awful lot of weight being placed on "I'm a cis white man." It's like he's trying to take the blame off himself and put it onto the cisness, whiteness, and maleness. Being a cis white man means he will always be flawed, it's a way of avoiding his responsibility for his actions.

He called the fucking cops on someone. He claims the person, "Did an internet and threatened to kill me." He then follows this up by acknowledging that, "Cops don't usually have the best interests of people at heart." I'm not familiar with the Jessie topic but this video explores it and offers context.

Lots of "We tried too hard to be good and that was our real downfall" type bullshit.

On Telos: "These were not going to be unionised movies, and we were very clear about that upfront. We wanted to be able to pay actors as best that we could, but we never expected to be able to reach typical union wages." Do I even need to say it?

Lots of throwing Nick under the bus. What are Nick's pronouns? James goes from using exclusively they/them to exclusively he/him. There's a line about how him and Nick were codependent that makes me wonder if abuse/toxicity allegations are in the future?

He's talking an awful lot about how every movie he tries to do has issues and he inevitably had to move to a new movie plan. Surely he should've just. Focused on how to fix the issue?

He's getting really into the suicide topic again. In a way that would be better saved for close friends and therapists.

Supposedly several people showed up at his house trying to harm him while he was not there. I'm a little skeptical. This is the first I've heard of anyone having his address, and while I'm sure he received threats, I can't imagine anyone is so invested as to actually go to his house.

He is re-uploading videos, including new videos. The re-uploaded videos are monetised and the money will be going... Somewhere.

"I know that misinformation made its way into our past videos." Well, it didn't write itself?

He has put together a new Patreon, and claims he will not be reopening the old one.

"This video is not about promoting myself." And yet, you have spent much of it doing exactly that.

He hasn't acknowledged the ways that some of his work upheld misogynistic and racist views? 43 minute video and he couldn't manage a, "I should've been more normal about nazis," or, "I said some mean things about women."

[carefulfears]

literally thinking about how mulder is the softest man. and he loves beautifully. he's so focused on his quest because of how much he loves samantha, and his parents. he tries to hope, desperately, that samantha is alive & he'll find her even though he knows how unlikely it is. and without scully, it would have taken him much longer to face it. no one ever looked into the darkness with him or loved samantha with him or believed in him so much they always followed him & stayed present with him in those really difficult moments he couldn't get away from the grief. and everything scully does for him, he returns. he responds to how she cares, and her boundaries. and they talk but they don't really talk, so he toes the line. he's always checking in with her.

the x-files is about love because everything mulder does is through love does everybody get it!! god, it’s just so major to me, that he’s this iconic sci-fi hero who’s just 100% grounded in kindness and generosity. there’s nothing hiding around the corner. he’s not the bad boy in the basement, he’s not the maverick with a secret heart of gold, he’s just fucking nice. he cares about people. he sees people. he wants to help. he loves his sister. loves his shitty parents. loves his evil ex-partners and ex-wife. loves his friend. there’s always something deeper in mulder, but it’s always just pain. he’s not hiding anything away. he refuses to let go of anything, but never wants anyone to fall into the same trap, his or their own. he tells traumatized women who’ve been abused and imprisoned that he needs their help, that they’re capable of contributing, that he wants to know what they think. while every other cop tries to lock them up. he feels every loss, carries every ghost, never stops trying.

i just watched irresistible again, and god. the way that he pulls scully aside and tells her, it’s okay to be affected. it’s normal. “i’ve seen agents with 20 years fall apart on cases like this.” he doesn’t say that it’s because she’s a woman (like the cop in 2shy does) or because she’s young or because she’s traumatized. he never brings up her recent abduction. he just tells her that it’s okay to need space, that she can talk to him.

and scully is trying so fucking hard to be that perfect navy captain’s daughter. that girl who straightened before looking up at her father to say goodnight. that girl who, as her mother says, has “always been the strong one.”

and she tries to be the strong one. she takes a step back. she goes to therapy. she tells her therapist that she trusts her partner more than anyone, but she does not want him to know that she’s struggling. when she decides to come back, and calls him, she plays it off with a joke. (like he does). “besides, you could use my help.” when he responds, “always.” it’s so earnest and direct, without breaking her cover or stepping out of the box she created. yes, of course, agent scully. come help.

in the end, she can barely choke out that “i’m fine,” her signature move. he doesn’t say a word. he tips her chin so slightly, so that she looks at him. it’s one of the most special moments of the series, to me, the way she just breaks when she sees him. grabs him and sobs. and how you can just barely hear him whisper: “it’s alright.”

the police are still cleaning up the scene around them. i don’t think we ever see her do that again, in front of other people. but we do see her do it with him, when they’re alone, because she knows she can. that strong captain’s daughter. it’s like someone talked about on one of your posts before: scully has to be put together. she has to be the strong one. she’s trying to maintain a fragile place in “the boy’s club” (she talks about this herself). she’s trying to present respectability and a certain image.

and maybe she does have to be that person, for her parents, for her brother, for the FBI, the doctors. but mulder thinks that it’s okay to be affected. he just wants her to be able to talk about it. he wants to see her vulnerability, and shield it. in that house in minneapolis, his face breaks, but he just holds her and whispers. and she rarely falls into it, but she knows that she can, since the motel room in bellefleur. and that means something.

it’s just impossible not to soften around him. and that’s something really special, for scully, for the victims and witnesses he works with. he values their help, he already views them as strong, he wants them to express everything that they’re feeling. he believes it helps.

(mulder has said that line too, “you’re the strong one.” - to lucy householder when she was crying in the dirt)

this show was always realistic. you do have to present a certain image. most people are gonna think you’re young and weak and traumatized and stupid. but it also centered this whole thing around this one person that didn’t require any of that, and that’s why it works. why it’s so special.

[lassieposting]

So anyway, things I've been thinking about this morning: Garrus Vakarian probably likes foreign films

Like.

Turians are the Proud Soldier Race Guys. They have an incredibly rigid, collectivist, by-the-book kind of culture, where every single individual is obligated to spend a good chunk of their formative adolescent/young adult years in the military, where Turian Ideals are hammered into them. So they don't seem like they'd have a big media scene glorifying tropes which go against their general cultural values - specifically, in this case, an individual going outside standard procedures to Get Shit Done on their own terms.

And this is a trope that Garrus loves. When we first meet him, he's sick of being the Good Little C-Sec Cop who follows orders and gets swamped with red tape and can't get the bad guy because Procedure Says No. He clearly sees himself as/wants to be the cowboy cop, detective-gone-rogue type, and he's got a pretty romanticised idea of what that would look like in his head. Bless him.

But. He's learned about that trope from somewhere, and I can't really see it being his own people. Especially with a father like Castis, who's so staunchly exactly what's expected from a turian. He seems like the type who'd have strong opinions about what his kids are reading and watching and being influenced by, because while he obviously loves Garrus, he wants him to grow up to fit a certain mould. The Turian version of the wish-fulfilment vigilante flick is the Spectre Movie, but Garrus isn't allowed to watch those, because Castis doesn't approve of Spectres being Outside The Law.

So baby Garrus grows up lowkey feeling stifled by the way society works, and maybe that's a problem with him, so he gets his head down and does his best to be a Good Turian and make his dad proud, and then he gets his discharge papers and goes to work for C-Sec, and suddenly he's living on the Citadel by himself, and he's got free time nobody is telling him to do X or Y with. He's basically moved away from home for the first time - the Citadel is not Turian-controlled, it's a thriving multicultural melting pot with plenty of people living there who don't exactly conform to Turian standards, he's got colleagues with interests he's never even heard of, and he's gonna start seeing new things.

Human superhero films and cop movies with lots of explosions and no paperwork. Small-budget Batarian short films about victorious anti-Hegemony rebellions. Even his own people's Spectre films. Some kid selling drugs in the wards has a Batman comic in his confiscated backpack? Garrus borrows it to browse on his lunch break. Some Salarian ex-STG operative publishes a memoir? Garrus reads it on the shuttle to work. All these people who feel like he does.

Like. Give me Archangel who regularly spouts lines from Batman or X-Men or Krogan Thunder 3 (or whatever the fuck else he's been watching) as part of his Good Guy Victory Speeches, that makes at least one of his multispecies team who Knows That Franchise pull up short and go "Oh my god, you're a nerd."

[buildabettermeme]

Why is no one talking about the riots and protests over the murder of 17-year-old Nahel by police in France?

This boy was only 17 years old, shot in the chest in the driver's seat by cops. People seem to think there isn't racism in France but there is. We all need to be talking about this. Nahel should not be forgotten.

The French government is attacking their own citizens with 40,000 police officers (yes, 40k cops) to quell the unrest. 5,000 cops are being sent to Paris alone.

The French government needs to realize that there wouldn't be riots if you didn't allow cops to and protect cops who kill unarmed, non-threatening, peaceful civilians, ESPECIALLY CHILDREN. French citizens won't let their government get away with this. Neither should the rest of the world.

If we all join forces to condemn this horrible tragedy, all across the world, maybe less young POC people will be murdered in cold blood by police officers. Maybe the French government WON'T sanction murder of their citizens for exercising the basic human right of free speech and protest. Maybe, one day, cops will have stricter standards and punishments. Maybe, in the future, there won't be cops at all, and no one would die by their hand. But we HAVE to work together to ever see that happen.

Blow it up. Blaze it if you want to. Find every post about this murder that you can and FORCE the media to notice.

Nahel's mother is organizing the protesting and has been photographed speaking and acting out for her son. We should also support her, because not enough parents would do this for their murdered child/ren. I know mine wouldn't. But she is, and she deserves to be recognized and supported.

Don't let children be murdered in vain, without notice, without awareness, without action. If we will not avenge our next generation, they won't be here to avenge anyone else. Don't let them die, especially not like this.

I don't know how to start a GoFundMe but if anyone did and wanted to, this would be a great place and cause for funds to go to.

Make the French government quake in their boots. Make them terrified of their own people. Make the government pale at the reality that is facing them; they will lose everything, all of their power, all of their money, if they do not get their shit together and protect their goddamn people.

This CNN article is horrifically boot-licking, however it is the most comprehensive reporting I have found in English, and my French is unfortunately nonexistent.

Don't buy into the copaganda. These fuckers are murderers, plain, cold, and simple.

Fuck the French police.

Fuck ALL police.

(Disclaimer: I am horrible at tags, I'm learning I swear)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

chapter 6

warnings: warnings: warnings: swearing, divorce, suggestive jokes, Roman makes self deprecating jokes (mostly about his weight and money situation), kate is an asshole and drunk, mention of sex

“Kate.” Roman growled. “Don’t.” My gaze kept flicking between the two. My mind was trying to piece together how those two had ever gotten together in the first place. Especially when Kate looked like she belonged on the cover of Forbes or vogue or something, expensive clothes and jewelry paired together.

“why not?” She asked, pouting. “Never took you for the goth type.” Roman tensed and I tried to pull away from him but he held me tightly. She looked me over and Roman pushed me behind him slightly.

"What the fuck do you want Kate?" Roman asked, sighing and squeezing my arm where it was still wrapped around him. "I don't have the kids. You know that. It's your time with them." Kate rolled her eyes at him.

"But you were supposed to pick them up from Chet's an hour ago asshole." She snapped. Roman frowned and looked at his watch.

"No I wasn't." He said. "I don't get them until next weekend. Since your wonderful lawyer decided I wasn't fit to be alone with them for more than a few hours a week." I tightened my hold on Roman as Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “Thanks for that by the way.” Kate rolled her eyes.

“Well if you’re going to be such a stuck up asshole…” Kate trailed off turning her gaze to me. “Maybe I should tell this bitch…”

“Katherine!” Roman cried as loud as he dared since we were still in the hallway.

“Just what kind of man you are.” She continued, giving him an evil grin. Roman tightened his hold on me and pushed me further behind him. She started walking over towards us, swaying with every step.

“Dammit.” Roman muttered. “She’s drunk.”

“so what do we do?” I whispered. Roman kept himself between the two of us as he moved towards his door.

“follow my lead. We’ll lock her out here and I’ll call…I don’t even know who she’s dating right now.” Roman winced as Kate fell into the wall with a thud. “Fuck it I’ll call Connie.” Roman managed to get his door open and both of us inside as Kate slid down the wall.

“Roman!” She yelled as Roman locked the door, leaning heavily on it and taking a deep breath. “Why won’t you have sex with me anymore?” I raised an eyebrow at that.

“last argument we had. During the filings. She showed up drunk and I was pissed off and she wanted a friends with benefits thing. I said no. So she…started screaming about our sex life in front of the judge.” Roman shrugged.

“how she ever got custody of your kids I’ll never understand.” I shook my head.

“I lied remember? And she blamed me on the mine shaft thing. Said I was supposed to be watching them when she told them to stay in the car.” Roman responded. He finally found the phone number he’d been looking for and dialed. “Connie? Oh hi Chet. No everything…well Kate’s outside my door…yeah asking why I didn’t pick up the girls…right…” while Roman talked to his brother in law I sat down on his couch. I ran my hands over my face and glanced at the door where Kate was still yelling after Roman.

“roman?” I said softly. He looked up and told Chet to hold on. “Tell him to be quick or someone’s gonna call the cops.” Roman nodded and relaid my message.

“yeah…I guess…thanks Chet. Say good night to the girls for me.” Roman said before hanging up. “Their car broke down.” He said, smirk on his face.

“how convenient.” I said, leaning into him. We listened to Kate for a minute before I tilted my head to look up at him. “Should we be the ones to call?” Roman chuckled and grabbed the phone again.

“I don’t see why not.” He said dialing the phone. “Yes hello. I’d like to report a public disturbance. There is a drunk woman screaming outside my apartment. Late 30s. Dark hair. Caucasian. Well dressed.” Roman paused for a second before giving the building number and his apartment number. “Ok. Thank you.” He hung up and looked at me with a smile. “Not the first complaint of the night.” We both started laughing as Kate moved on to complaining about how roman was in bed.

“For fucks sake does she ever talk about anything but sex?” I groaned. Roman rolled his eyes.

“money.” He said. “Which I don’t have so she can’t complain about that.” Roman took a deep breath before taking my hand. “Come on. It should be quieter in my bedroom.”

“taking me to your bedroom already Mr. Craig? I’m flattered.” I giggled. Roman chuckled as he led me down the hall to his room.

“It was only a matter of time before I brought you here anyway.” Roman teased. “Maybe not for nefarious purposes but I mean I’ve got a tv in here and we can cuddle. Beds pretty comfortable honestly. I mean not the softest or firmest but…” I kissed Roman and cupped his cheeks.

“Roman.” I smiled softly at him. “You don’t have to sell me on it. I know we’re not going to do anything back here. I’m happy just to cuddle with you.” Roman smiled at me before kissing me softly again.

“ok.” He whispered. “I just…with Kate…” Roman sighed as we both climbed on the bed. I laid on his chest, tilting my head against his neck. Roman wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I put my hand over his heart and closed my eyes, smiling softly as he turned on the tv. “You ok?” He asked finally. “I know meeting Kate that way wasn’t on your list of things to do.”

“I don’t think it was even on my list to begin with.” I chuckled, rubbing his chest. “Like at all. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t her. I didn’t think I could honestly. Whenever you talked about her, I just wanted to hit her. She put you through so much Roman. So much unnecessary shit. I just…” Roman tilted my head up and kissed me hard.

My lips moved against his, hands curling into the black sweater he was wearing. I hummed as he pulled back for a second before diving back in. Roman rolled me on my back, hands framing my hips. Lowering himself, Roman’s forearms trapped me on the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him further down onto me. I played with his hair as we lazily made out.

“Roman.” I moaned as he ground down against me. Roman paused and drew back. I stared up at him with a smile.

“spend the night.” He whispered. “Please. Spend the night.”

“I’d love to.” I breathed out. Roman smiled and buried his face in my neck. He leaned more of his weight against me. “I do need to go back to my apartment for pajamas though.” Roman shook his head.

“wear mine.” Roman whispered. I smiled up at his ceiling.

“if you think you can handle it.” I teased. Roman pulled back with a smile.

“I think I can.” He responded before kissing me soundly.

[allwormdiet]

Tangle 6.8

I hate this man's vibe

Don't separate her! From her dogs! Let them get in the limo!

This is so fucking funny

Coil is trying to flex on a pack of teenagers with a coin trick

and Skitter's immediate response was "okay hang on fucker, I'm supplying the coin for this trick"

and is only satisfied after that

...Also man, when's the last time i saw a dollar coin anywhere, huh

So, having been spoiled on how Coil's power works (in my defense, I went like three or four years knowing about this series before I even considered reading it), I can't help but feel like this is simultaneously a petty means of flexing power and a melodramatic means of describing it.

I kinda suspected Tattletale was playing carefully with her word choices when talking about the boss, nice to see the confirmation.

...Now that I think about it... Hmm. Three of the six groups at the table in Somer's Rock were under Coil's command, and when Tattletale was talking about how everyone but "Grue and maybe Faultline" was planning to take advantage of the truce to advance their cause, that didn't mean that the Undersiders weren't part of those plots. It turns out to have been the opposite.

...Tattletale, I think you're my favorite, but I'm watching you like a goddamn hawk now

Taylor seems to have a lot of "not-best calls" when it comes to people, huh

Also oh boy the Travelers have some shit going on huh

and that's not just whatever is souring their teamwork and communication

...Did Coil practice this? Was there a rehearsal period for his speech, getting the timing down right for the window's speed and the emergence from the tunnel? I can't escape the feeling that he spent at least a day on this, maybe a week

And, yeah, ambitious is a word for it. Man wants to control every aspect of an entire city? He wants to play the cops and the robbers and the bankers and the... whoever else exists in this metaphor? Just play Sim City, honestly, or get into 4X games. If we could just get this man hooked on Crusader Kings or something the world would be a lot safer

I'll grant that he's making a good play at this if nothing else. Certainly not going to cry for the collapse of the Empire, fucking Nazis that they are, and none of the other criminal organizations seem both able and willing to make any kind of major play.

...Though that doesn't preclude groups from outside the city, does it. You could have people from New York or Boston or whatever decide that some expansion is in order. Hmm.

Oh he's doing a real estate scheme, okay. So now we're in a Ryo ga Gotoku main plot. This is a lot easier to follow, I just have to keep an eye out for the Millennium Tower

...Also, Taylor. Are you confident this man isn't also putting moles in the Protectorate and PRT? Like, c'mon now. Bribing government employees works no matter the agency. I'm not gonna say it's beneath the Protectorate's notice, far from it, but a web this intricate means there's no way he's not accounting for multiple angles

...Okay so in The Order of the Stick, there's a sideplot involving a group of former adventurers who realized that they could take over most of a continent through an everchanging map of alliances, conquests, and treachery, with all of them acting as the hidden powers behind multiple thrones and keeping up the appearance that there was no singular rule, so that their own control over the territory had multiple points of failure.

Coil's plan sounds... similar. He's trying to carve up the city between multiple lieutenants who themselves belong to different organizations, with him as the secret mastermind at the heart of it all. Main difference in these two plans is, of course, that Coil is only one man, and also that he's telling his puppets ahead of time that he's the actual shot-caller.

It's not a terrible plan? It's not super complicated at least, but then that's only the criminal side of the city; I'm not sure how he would expect to play all sides off each other with sufficient balance to keep all his pieces on the board (or keep the pieces in line if he decided to make a sacrifice play with one of them).

Anyway. Coil making his appeals to each individual member. Bitch gets more resources to care for her dogs, Regent... something with his old man. I don't know if Coil is reading his wants exactly right on this one.

Hmm. Guess that's the best reassurance that can be provided, not that it feels reassuring still.

Okay so Coil is offering to wave his magic wand and settle the matter of Aisha's custody for Grue, that much lines up. What's the benefit he's offering Tattletale? It can't just be money or power, that's too simple and I don't think any of the Undersiders are that simple in their wants. I don't even think it's true of Regent, much as he's trying to play the lazy hedonist role.

Little funny that Skitter being respected enough to afford silence while she thinks is the exact opposite of what she wants right now.

And it's interesting that she can't pull up a wish that Coil feels like confirming. "Bettering the city" is vague enough that there can be disagreements, and it's the kind of thing with no quick results which means a lot of patience. Obviously it's because Taylor only ever tried to become a hero and the villain thing was... I don't know if "accident" is the right word, but definitely unforeseen, but that sense of higher purpose is still firmly in place.

He's sounding entirely too cool about this, and I hate it. There's no way this man doesn't have a thousand hooks and caveats waiting out of sight, he literally described himself as being able to control destiny and wants to control all crime.

Yeah probably a huge pain in the ass to do finances as a supervillain, huh.

Also what the fuck kind of name is Number Man?

Yay, sloughing puppies

Not to steal a well-worn metaphor from another superhero story, but here and now Taylor is the dog that finally caught a car and is only now realizing "oh shit, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now"

This can only go well

Current Thoughts

Man I hate Coil's entire fucking vibe. He's scummy, entirely too sure of his abilities and resources, and I don't trust a man who acts this overdramatic and this reasonable at the same time. I also don't fully trust a guy who insists on having his meetings in a limousine, or who insists on using teenaged girls as his proxies, and I'm sure I'm going to get even more reasons to hate his rancid ass as time moves on.

Side note, Tattletale, I'm like pretty sure you could be doing better than working for this guy. Blink three times if you need help.

...Wait, shit, there's no way they can keep playing at the small fry game now, is there? They tweaked the nose of the entire Protectorate in front of a bunch of rich and important people. He made them prove their abilities in a way that involves dire repercussions in the event that they back down after the deed is done. Motherfucker.

And just to think that this isn't even going to be the worst conversation in this arc.

[crowwyrmm]

I wrote an angsty blurb about Jean and Harry so I'm dumping it here. Might turn it into a full fic eventually.

enjoy ↓

"What is this? Some kind of fucking joke?" The man's eyes are dark and cold. He's leaning against the side of his door, arms crossed.

[Empathy] He seems startled to see you on his doorstep- and not overly pleased.

[Perception : Vision] He's wearing ill-fitting trousers and a dark blue shirt with long sleeves. There's something odd about seeing him without his uniform.

[Electrochemistry] It feels intimate.

"No. No jokes. I just... I was hoping we could talk? Over coffee, maybe?"

"Why do you have that?" He pointed to the small pot in your hands.

"Oh!! It's a gift- for you! It's a cute little cactus, with a flower blossom too, look-"

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but you were still going.

"You don't have to worry about watering it all the time, it's prickly-- but cool, and it's very resilient. It reminded me of you."

Jean raises his eyebrows, his lips pressing into a tight line. Silence falls between the two of you.

You feel a crushing weight in your chest. And your palms are sweating.

"Uh-huh.... thanks." There's an edge to his voice as he takes the potted plant and looks it over. His face is hard to read, but it looks like something in him caved. He sighs heavily. "Alright, fine. Come in.”

[Composure] This is going better than you thought it would. Just keep it cool, don't freak out.

[Reaction Speed] RUN before the scary man with the sad eyes makes you feel horrible about yourself again!

[Inland Empire] No. He needs this, just as much as you do.

You follow Jean inside, quietly observing the cosy wooden furniture. A painting of a horse hangs on the wall above a worn leather couch. You take a seat at the tiny dining table, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

Jean is in the kitchen. He sets the cactus on the windowsill in front of the sink and starts preparing a pot of coffee. You can hear the sizzle of the pot as the scent fills the air. He exits and takes a seat at the table across from you.

“What do you want?” His voice is as sharp as his gaze. Anger flares up behind his stoney eyes.

“I wanted to apologise to you, for all the bullshit I've put you through.” Your words are soft.

The man narrows his eyes. “Oh please!” He scoffs, “Do you seriously think I haven't heard this bullshit before?” His shoulders grow rigid.

“But–”

“Yes, I know! You're the sorriest goddamn cop who ever lived. This isn't the first time you've shown up grovelling on my doorstep.” A scowl is written across his face.

“Jean…” Your voice cracks, “I don't… I can't remember what I did to make you feel this way, just that it was horrible.”

“Oh yes. Let me help you, give you a little run-down- maybe?” Before you have a chance to object, Jean continues, “You permanently crippled a man in a fit of blind rage, a month ago. You went undercover to sleep with prostitutes and then arrested them. When a woman accused you of harassing her you tried to get her child taken away. You– you fucking leave a trail of destruction wherever you go, and it's always been my job to clean up after you.” His voice is shaking with rage, his fists clenched on the table in front of him. “I can keep going.”

God… did I really do all of that?

[Half Light] You did. You can still remember the sound of bones cracking.

“You don't need to.” There's a growing pit in your stomach. You start feeling a little ill. “I already know that I've done terrible things, I've spent weeks rediscovering every awful thing I've ever done for myself!” A heavy sigh escapes you. “Listen. I wish I could’ve been a better person, and a better partner to you– but I wasn't. All I can do now is try to move forward and… prove to you that I can be better.”

The words feel familiar and bitter in your mouth.

Jean crosses his arms tight to his body, still scowling. Silent rage radiates from him, but he says nothing.

“I have a fresh set of eyes, a new outlook on life. They say people have to hit rock bottom before they'll change. That was my rock bottom, Jean. I'm a changed man, ready to take accountability for my life.”

Jean shakes his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you think I’m a moron? That may have worked on me when we were young men, but not anymore. I've heard it all before. There is nothing left for you to say.” He pauses, briefly, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. “Guys like you don't change, Harry. You might be able to bewitch this new little partner of yours, lure him in with your honeyed lies and empty promises. But not me. I'm not your emotional dumping ground, go see a fucking psychiatrist.”