#listen a lot of the time debbie defenders make good points

[cherry-treelane]

I find it so ironically funny when hardcore Debbie defenders use the defense that she was just a victimised teenage girl (agreed) and then proceed to slander Fiona and express their hatred for her character and lack of sympathy

as if being an adult magically absolves an individual of the horrifying trauma that precedes them and screws up their mentality and actions

funnily enough these people get mad at others for "expecting Debbie to be an innocent angel and hating on her for acting out as a result of trauma" (also agreed, debbie does deserve more sympathy, she can't be expected to grow up to be a perfect saint when she's been through so much) yet seem to hold Fiona to the same unattainable standards and put her on a pedestal as if she wasnt a child that was forced to intensely grow up while never actually being raised

like lets put this into perspective and remember that fiona grew up surrounded by corrupt morals and insanely screwed up behaviour yet still emerged as messed up, yes, but surprisingly good considering the situation she was in??? she had to navigate basic things such as morals and being a good, responsible person on her own. imagine how difficult it must be to lead a bunch of kids, including yourself, with no previous role model or good example of your own to follow. most of the time, she always tried to do what she thought was best and would have the most desirable outcome

[restapesta]

hii emina!! #14 for valentine’s day 💌 (for the february ask meme) <33

Tami couldn't help but feel fucking jealous. Offended too, for that matter.

Lip forgot fucking Valentine's Day—Valentine's day—and now Tami was forced to sit in the kitchen with the gathered-around Gallagher & Co, watching how Ian and Mickey annoyingly proved the fact that she could do so much better than fucking Lip.

For fuck's sake, he didn't remember goddamn Valentine's day. It wouldn't have been a big deal had he not almost forgotten their anniversary, too. Tami got that shit was stressful these days—that Lip wasn't all that happy with his delivery-boy job and their 'temporary' stay at the Gallagher house with his abundance of siblings, but seriously. That didn't mean she had to sit around stoically on fucking celebrate-your-love day, knowing she had been forgotten, while simultaneously watching the it couple of their family making kissy faces at each other.

Maybe they weren't making kissy faces, exactly—Tami would pay to see Mickey do anything in that realm, really—but did they have to be so obnoxiously in love? All while Tami was mourning her own loss of a Valentine?

She wasn't a teenager anymore, goddamn it, but she deserved nice things, at least once or twice a year. Some fucking day where she could feel special and completely in love, despite living with ten other people and kind of, sort of being in debt.

Tami was in love with Lip. She was fairly certain he was in love with her too, but did he have to forego this one thing from his memory? Did he have to invite Mickey and Ian over for a family dinner to rub salt into the wound?

Tami was fucking fine with Ian and Mickey on most days—it wasn't even as if she saw them all too often now that they had moved out (she even sort of missed them)—and their displays of affection were more sweet to her than anything.

It was cute seeing Ian pull Mickey into a kiss randomly before he went off to work at the warehouse. Or Mickey wrapping his hands around Ian's waist while they cooked dinner together, prolonging the creation of the simplest of meals, like boxed mac-and-cheese, just so they could hang around each other domestically, a little bit longer.

Nobody minded it all too much when they did those small things, and they were pretty much used to the constant sex-talk, however inappropriate and explicit. Somehow even the never-ending bickering stopped bothering them so much.

But god-fucking-damn-it, why did they have to rub it in her face now?

Ugh, fine, we get it, you're celebrating Valentine's day like a normal couple, being all lovey-dovey and shit. We get it.

They probably spent the entire day being sickly sweet and in love, like fucking teenagers. So gross.

Why the actual fuck did Lip forget?

Tami shot daggers Ian and Mickey's way, watching as they, in the middle of the Gallagher cluster-fuck—they were having dinner like usual, a cacophony of noises filling the slightly-renovated space up, something Tami had already gotten used to—talked lowly amongst each other, slight smiles on their faces.

They were so happy about fucking nothing as they sipped on respective beers, matching rings glinting on their fingers, now blinding to Tami's eyes when they had only been pretty before.

When would Lip propose?

Nope, nope, nope. Back to the current married couple, Tami thought.

They pulled apart, their heads no longer huddled together in some secret, husband talk. Ian placed bread onto Mickey's plate, reaching across for the salt, murmuring something about, Mickey liking everything unbelievably salty like a crazy person.

Fuck off, Gallagher. At least I don't like spicy shit.

Well, I don't think you should be surprised I like spicy things. I married you, didn't I?

A beat as they stared at each other lovingly—yuck, ew, disgusting—and then came Mickey's reply.

Sap.

Her eyes narrowed impossibly as she watched them steal fucking glances when the other one wasn't looking. Fucking glances, like teenagers who just discovered their crush liked them back and were about to have their first fucking kiss.

Ugh, why did they have to be so goddamn in love all the time?

Tami even remembered meeting Mickey for the first time, thinking how there was no way in fucking hell he and Ian were together. No way they were anything more than, what, fuck-buddies?

She also remembered the look Mickey wore once Ian entered the room, in all his beautiful glory, his entire face just lighting up like a fucking street lamp when the sun goes down. Eyes crinkling at the corners, an upturn of his mouth, a goddamn gleam appearing in his features.

Tami couldn't believe that the guy who literally just got out of prison was staring openly at his—boyfriend?—with so much intensity and love. The moment Tami had slipped out of view, she saw them share a kiss, all smiley, and shit.

She couldn't believe it then, but she could believe it now.

Why were they so in love?

How could somebody be so in love?

Tami had fallen in love a couple of times. She'd had unrequited crushes and first boyfriends, and older men who appeased to her daddy issues—still, she'd never quite had what Ian and Mickey had. Not that she thought anybody did.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she interrupted whatever conversation the two men in question were landing. They were talking still, bodies practically pressed together as they got unnaturally close at the dining table.

Tami was curious. She wanted to know.

She wanted to know how. How in the holy hell did somebody fall in love so fucking hard that they never let each other go? That they went through every single fucking obstacle they stumbled upon, still walking out alive in the end?

With Lip and their relationship, it was just good until it wasn't and until Tami was a second away from picking up their child and walking away, no matter how good of a father to her child her boyfriend was, and how much she actually loved him.

With Debbie and Sandy, it was being attached by the hip, together in all ways, until all of a fucking sudden, Sandy was gone. Gone from their lives as she had never even been there, replaced by somebody completely insane.

There was Carl, who Tami had never even seen in a committed relationship.

She didn't even want to mention fucking Frank and Monica if the stories Lip had told her were any true.

So, Tami asked.

"Can you guys tell me something," Her tone was only slightly accusing, the bitterness seeping through as she found herself going through a third bottle of Old Style. Even Lip raised his eyes up from the food and over to look at Tami as she addressed everyone's favorite gay couple.

"How in the holy fuck do you manage it?"

Ian and Mickey shared a glance—a fucking glance like they were reading each other's minds—before Ian raised an eyebrow.

"Manage what?"

"Being this seemingly perfect couple."

Lip nudged her foot in question just as Mickey snorted, placing the beer away from his lips so he could properly laugh. Ian rolled his eyes at it.

"We're not fucking perfect," was Mickey's simple answer.

Tami shook her head. "No. No, listen. I get that you're not perfect but I just don't get how. How do you just have this relationship?"

Ian seemed confused. "And what do you think this relationship is?"

"Do you guys even hear yourselves ninety percent of the fucking time?"

Debbie snorted at that. All eyes went to her. "Course they don't. They probably wouldn't be doing them if they did."

"What are we doing?" Mickey asked, and Tami scoffed when she noticed him moving his chair slightly away so he wasn't practically sitting in Ian's lap.

"Why are you asking this shit?" Lip whispered from beside her, apprehension in his gaze. Tami hoped he was slightly offended.

She was really fucking offended.

So, she continued, downing her beer in almost one go.

"I'm talking about how you're joined at the hip."

Ian shook his head. "No, we're not."

Liam made an 'eh' motion with his hands, chiming in, "You live together, you work together. You probably spent the entire day together."

Tami nodded at the boy in agreement. "How do you not get, like, bored of each other?"

They briefly shared another look before Ian shrugged. "I like hanging around him. Mickey's fun company."

Tami groaned, not realizing how they managed to just be so casual about things that didn't make sense to her.

"See?" She said. "I'd probably die if I had to spend more than a couple of hours with the same person, let alone my entire fucking day."

"We get annoyed with each other," Ian defended. "We fight, like, all the time."

Mickey shot him a glare. "Not all the time. Just when you're being an annoying bitch."

"Of when you're being an annoying bitch, Mr. Know-it-all."

"Fuck you, I do know it all."

Ian took a sip of his beer. "Uh-uh. Mr. Milkovich, knows everything about everything."

"Well, I gotta know shit if I wanna put up with your ass the rest of my life."

Ian's face softened suddenly from the playful bickering, sending Mickey a soft smile.

"What are you smiling at, dork?"

Ian's happy expression didn't falter. "You said the rest of your life."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Duh? Thought we were married?"

"Just," Ian shrugged. "Makes me happy to hear it."

Then they smiled at each other all soft, and Tami just barely suppressed a gag. She felt like she'd just been dumped and was forced to attend some love rally.

How to feel single 101.

"Do you, like, not see my point here?"

Mickey looked towards her, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you care so much, right now? It's not that big of a deal that Ian's a complete and utter sap," He shot a playful look in Ian's direction. "We're married and we've been together for a fucking while. We're allowed to act..."

Mickey hesitated.

"We're allowed to be in love without worrying whether or not we'll be judged for it or fucking get told to stop." He cast his eyes downward. "We've had enough of that shit already."

It wasn't silent for long, but Mickey's words rang loud in Tami's ears.

She didn't know a lot about Ian and Mickey during the first years of their relationship—she had only met them after fucking ten years of being together, after all—but she knew enough to be able to say with confidence that it couldn't have been easy. And knowing that, she could easily tell how she was being somewhat of a nagging bitch.

"Don't worry," Tami said softly. "I'm not judging you. Just," She sighed loudly before continuing, "admiring the way you're just completely enamored with each other. It makes you wonder, you know? What you could have."

The two seemed somewhat eased with that, smiles appearing on their faces as they looked at each other, like they knew that what Tami was giving them was a compliment, not judgment. But then, Tami's words set in.

All eyes went to Lip.

Tami's own widened.

"I did not mean it like that!" She defended immediately, shifting so she could look at Lip who was more than hurt by the look in his eye. Tami spoke to him as she said, "It's just that, today's fucking Valentine's day, and—"

"Today's Valentine's day?"

It was Ian who asked out of the blue, and she turned to look at him, wondering what he was talking about. He was looking at Mickey who seemed just as confused.

Of course it was Valentine's day. Tami had been bitter the entire day because it was fucking Valentine's day.

"It is?" Mickey said, eyes going warily towards Ian.

"So, we just, uh, forgot about it?"

Mickey nodded, a weird look on his face like he had forgotten their anniversary or some shit. "I guess so."

Tami was just about to open her mouth. Just about to ask if they really didn't spend the day being lovey-dovey with each other since it was Valentine's day, but rather because every day was obviously Valentine's day for them, when Lip spoke.

"Today's the thirteenth, Tami, for fuck's sake. Valentine's day is tomorrow." He smiled at her, seemingly catching onto why she had been so inquisitive in the first place. "Don't worry, I didn't forget."

Tami's mouth fell open and she only managed a simple 'oh'. Lip seemed content. Not at all caught by surprise at her statement. Maybe he really hadn't forgotten.

"Well, uh," She stammered out, heat crawling up her neck. "Good."

Lip smiled at her.

Ian's voice interrupted their staring contest.

"Wait, so you forgot Valentine's day?" He asked Mickey, an incredulous look on his face.

"Um, excuse me bitch, you forgot it, too!"

Ian scoffed. "So, you're telling me we'd wake up tomorrow and what, just continue on like always?"

"Well, you shoulda had something planned then, Ian!"

"Me? Why me?"

Mickey made a 'duh' face. "You fucking forgot it, too. Why would it be me?"

"Well, I'm sorry for having a million things going on right now."

"What million things, Ian? I'm literally with you every second of the day. What things?"

"Well," He started in a tone that didn't bode anything well. "you see, some of us—"

"Oh no, you fucking won't with that sentence."

Tami watched as the it couple fought over forgetting Valentine's day.

She laughed at the sight of them, bickering and shouting, not really angry but enjoying the fight.

They'd still be sappy as fuck the next day. They'd still be lovey-dovey, making kissy faces at each other.

This was what she meant.

They were best friends. Lovers. Partners. Always by each other's sides.

Tami looked over towards Lip.

Maybe she had one too.

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: Sandy and Debbie break up and Ian and Mickey each take a side. During the fall out Ian worries that Mickey has the same complaints about Ian that drove Sandy to break up with Debbie. But in the end Mickey reassures Ian that their relationship is nothing like theirs.

hi!<3 thank u so much for this prompt, it was so fun to write! hope u enjoy:)

also this scenario could take place anytime between ep 2 and ep 3 of s11, because ian still has his warehouse job

**

“Jesus, Debbie, calm the fuck down. You’re being dramatic”

“Sandy, if you call me dramatic one more time, I swear to god. I’m not trying to be controlling I’m just asking you where you were last night, which is a perfectly reasonable question—”

“Reasonable if you were my mother, maybe, but I can go wherever the fuck I want without you needing to smother me all the time! I was on a run with Terry, because I have no money and don’t really know what to do with myself, and I’m never fucking good enough for you, and that’s literally all you need to know—”

“Trouble in paradise,” Mickey commented as he poured Ian some coffee, breaking the silence in the kitchen, where everyone was staring at their breakfasts and listening to the voices shouting upstairs.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Debs isn’t known to be the most… secure partner in a relationship.”

“You can say that again,” added Liam, wrapping his poptart in a napkin and shoving it into his backpack. “I’m just gonna eat on the way to school. It doesn’t seem like this screaming is going to stop anytime soon, and while you and Mickey having sex twice a day is bad enough, Debbie and Sandy having a lover’s quarrel has somehow pushed me over the edge.”

Ian smirked and sipped his coffee. “Can you drop Franny off on the way?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Liam led Franny out of the kitchen, where Ian and Mickey remained, listening to Debbie’s shrill voice drifting through the floorboards.

“Fine, if I can’t know what’s going on in your life, I guess you don’t need to be in mine anymore!”

“Are you fucking serious, Debbie? Why do you need to know where I am, you can barely handle knowing the whereabouts of your own kid—”

Ian and Mickey traded raised eyebrows while Ian silently took a bite of toast.

“Sandy, get out of this house! I don’t need you and your illegal bullshit anyways, all you’re doing is putting me and Franny at risk with Terry and all of his issues—”

“Okay, little miss perfect, but don’t expect me to give a shit when you come crawling back.”

“Fine!”

The door upstairs finally slammed, and seconds later Sandy came stomping down. She looked at Ian.

“Your prissy fucking sister is a pain in my ass. The sooner your whole family realizes that your garbage father is as bad as Terry is, the sooner you’ll hop off of your superiority complex over the Milkoviches and realize that your way of surviving is literally the same as ours.”

Sandy shoved past the kitchen table and out the back door.

Ian breathed out a laugh. “Well, that was an eventful morning.”

“I’ll say,” Mickey agreed, looking at the door Sandy had just walked through. “Do you think I should go talk to her or some shit?”

Ian shrugged. “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m sure Sandy’ll grow up and apologize for whatever illegal shit she was doing with Terry, Debs will calm down, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

Mickey looked slightly uncomfortable as he placed his mug down on the table. “I mean, she has got a point. I’m sure whatever Sandy was up to was no big deal, Debbie doesn’t need to be freaking out.”

Ian scoffed. “Yeah, if getting involved in all of your dad’s shit is no big deal. Sandy could at least tell Debs whatever she’s up to, that sounds pretty fair to me.”

Mickey stood up, clearing their plates and walking over to the sink. “Whatever, Gallagher. I’m just saying Sandy does have a point about you being marshmallows. If she’s not telling Debbie what she’s up to, it’s probably for her own good.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Mick? Last time you disappeared on a run with your dad without telling me where you were, I literally thought you murdered our PO. How is that better than just telling me you’re hawking some stolen guns or whatever you get up to?”

Mickey distractedly wrung his hands with the dish towel, looking sightly pissed and defensive that Ian would even bring up that onslaught of memories, of their almost-wedding and Ian’s rejection at the courthouse and everything that followed.

“I don’t know, asshole. Maybe because Sandy’s right, and you all can be a little judgy about all the illegal shit. I get that you’re a goody two shoes breaking your fucking back in a warehouse, but that doesn’t mean that everyone needs to work their ass off to make minimum wage like you. I used to do shit for my dad all the time, so does Sandy and she doesn’t need anyone to be her keeper.”

Ian rolled his eyes, taking a final sip of coffee and standing up. “Alright, whatever. I’m gonna be late.” He pecked the top of Mickey’s head as he put his mug in the sink. “Enjoy your hard day’s work of watching TV and jacking off.”

Mickey turned and flipped him off as Ian strode out of the room.

Later that day, as Ian was mechanically checking expiration dates on an order of off-brand crackers, he couldn’t help but replay he and Mickey’s conversation from that morning over and over in his mind. Was Mickey seriously going to defend Sandy for sneaking with Terry behind Debbie’s back? He knew Mickey didn’t give a shit about making minimum wage right now, but was Mickey really going to spend the rest of his life following in his dad’s footsteps, depending on his next heist for cash? And, worst of all, did that mean he was going to live a life of feeling like he needed to hide every move from Ian? Ian knew what he was signing up for when they got married, that being with Mickey always meant some level of scamming and schmoozing; but for some reason, he thought that now that Mickey and his dad had fallen out that Mickey’s existence would stop being so constantly on the brink of incarceration.

He’d expected marriage to be a partnership—but so far, it felt like he and Mickey were on different pages about pretty much everything.

When Ian finally made it home and stumbled in the front door, tired and bleary, Sandy was still noticeably absent from the Gallagher house. Debbie and Franny were in the kitchen, along with Liam who was muddling through his homework at the table. Ian went upstairs and found Mickey laying on their bed, watching some sort of video on his phone at full volume. He didn’t look up when Ian came into the room.

“Hey, Mick. Can we talk for a sec?” Ian asked, taking off his hat and coat and gingerly placing them on the bottom corner of the bed.

Mickey still didn’t look up from his phone. “Don’t know what the fuck you want to talk about.”

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. “Did… Sandy and Debbie make up yet?”

Mickey huffed. “What d’you think.”

“Guess not. How’s Sandy doing?”

“Don’t know, haven’t heard from her yet. Figure she’s just off somewhere blowing off some steam.”

Ian approached the next topic with caution.

“So, uh, I was thinking. And I think we need to talk again about, y’know, our mutual expectations.”

“This shit again? Listen, we already did this, I know we agreed that we aren’t fucking other people—"

“No, no I mean about other stuff. Not even the money stuff again really, just like… if you’re ever going to go back to doing the shit that Terry does. For example.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about man, you know I don’t talk to that asshole anymore.”

“I know, but—what if you want to do stuff with Sandy, or someone makes you an offer for a big job? What if you end up in jail again? What if you feel the way Sandy does and you feel like you need to hide all this stuff from me, meanwhile I’m just here working my ass off trying to make a life for us—”

Mickey paused the video and finally looked up from the phone.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Gallagher?”

Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want you to not tell me shit, the way Sandy was with Debbie. I’d rather know what illegal bullshit you’re up to, even if you think it’s going to piss me off. I… I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want you to have to lie to me, and I don’t want you to go to jail again. I just wanna be on the same page.”

Ian inched his hand over the covers and placed it on top of Mickey’s as he kept talking.

“I know we’ve been fighting a lot lately, not agreeing on stuff. But I just…want you to know that I’m in this. I love you, I’m your fucking husband. I want us to work together, and I don’t want you to think that I can’t handle anything, or that we can’t tackle everything together.”

Ian looked down at their hands, letting the silence swell as he traced Mickey’s palm with his thumb.

“Hey, Gallagher. Look at me.”

Ian met Mickey’s eyes—Mickey was looking directly at him, unguarded and open. It reminded him of the look on Mickey’s face when he had tried to break up with Mickey the first time, back when they were both kids sitting on the front stoop and Mickey had sprinted over when Ian called; when Mickey had split himself open, had told Ian how much he loved him, through sickness and health and everything they were about to go through.  

“Sandy’s got her own bullshit to learn. About people caring about her, caring where she is, caring if she throws her life away. But I’ve been here this whole time, and I’ve learned that. Why do you think I used to throw myself into as much risky bullshit as I could, before I was locked up? I was losing myself in everything, because all I ever wanted was this.”

He put his hand up to Ian’s face—a small gesture, but probably the most intimate touch he’d given Ian in weeks. It stung like ice and fire on Ian’s cheek, like electricity was flickering where his fingertips met Ian’s skin.

“I’ve pointed a glock at my asshole dad’s head and been willing to take the bullet for this. I’m not getting involved in any shit that can take you away from me, Gallagher. Am I going to stop forging my payroll for my PO? Or stop selling shitty expired brownie mix? Probably not. But I’m not gonna do anything risky, anything that might take me away from you for good. Never was.”

Ian sighed. He was being stupid, and he knew that. But between all of their senseless bickering the last few weeks, he couldn’t help but worry that Mickey was feeling more and more indifferent about this whole marriage situation, or getting restless about being pinned down. He listened earnestly as Mickey continued talking.

“How many times have I told you—my family was never there for me. You’re the only family I need. And I made that shit official when I put a ring on your finger, or I guess when I forced you to put one on mine. I’ve always been there for you, I’m always gonna be there for you. We fought long and hard enough for this, Gallagher. You just gotta believe in me.”

There it was—that fondness in Mickey’s eyes, the softness that he tried to hard to hide, but showed up anyways as he was tying Ian’s tie, or holding him close through a wave of depression, or kissing his forehead when he gave Ian his meds. Mickey was never going to let anything come between them again, not after all the pitfalls and heartbreak they’d been through—Ian realized that now, even more than he already had.

“I know, Mick. I believe you.”

“You’d better, asshole. Now c’mere.”

Mickey led Ian’s chin forward, and their lips met—just a ghost of a touch, at first, but it made Ian grab the back of Mickey’s neck and pull him in closer, fiercely slotting their lips together again and again.  

They broke apart, and Ian smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m all yours, Mr. Milkovich. Whatever shit our families get into can’t change that.”

[gallavictorious]

Thanks for your thoughtful response to my ask re: the resolution to the moving conflict. I, much like you, felt better about it once I watched it again (and also once I stopped reading takes about how Mickey was being unreasonable and Ian did nothing wrong, because that just made me feel like that was what the show was trying to say which was annoying lol). I'm still not 100% happy about how it ended but I like it a lot better now. I never thought Ian meant to be malicious he's just a bit of a dumb dumb ❤ And I would have liked to see a callback to the discussion they had in episode one, because Ian went against his own rule there. But still, he did try to make up for what he did and actually listened to Mickey's feelings this time, which goes a long way even if it's not an outright apology, and I think they both walked away feeling much better about the whole thing. I love them 😊 Anyway I just wanted to say that I appreciate that you always have kind, well-thought out responses. Sorry for the ramble lol

Oh, sweet nonnie, I really appreciate your very kind words, and come ramble at me anytime! It really was very useful for me, having that ask to serve as a starting point for me working through my own feelings on the matter. I'm with you on not being 100% happy with how things turned out – but then again, I never wanted them to leave the South Side in the first place, so I wouldn't be – but all things considered, I now rather like the arc and what is says about the characters. It works for me. (Though the idea of living in a place where the bloody colour of the curtains is regulated fills me with dread. The fuck?)

Metaing recklessly once more, I think Ian might have gone against his earlier – and reasonable – stance on them making decisions together in part because he didn't find Mickey very receptive to the idea of discussing things? This isn't to defend Ian signing the lease, because he shouldn't have done that no matter what, but when he wants to talk to Mickey about it, Mickey just walks away. And yeah, it's absolutely not fair to suddenly spring a big proposal like that on someone and demand that they immediately discuss it rationally – people sometimes need a bit of time, often more than 30 minutes, to get used enough to sudden ideas to actually talk about them – but given their past interactions (with Mickey not always super interested in discussing things) I think Ian might just have been... not fed up, per sé, but a little frustrated and reasoning that “if he can decide we're not even talking about this thing that concerns us both, then I can decide for both of us that we're moving here”. Combine that with perceived time pressure (classic sell tactic, but I buy that Ian wouldn't know that), and – I suspect – Ian's heightened concern over Mickey getting dragged back into (or not moving on from) Milkovich shit proper after the whole Terry thing, I can see him making an impulsive decision in spite of his genuine belief in the need for communication, firmly thinking that he was doing right by them by doing what was best for them, even if Mickey wasn't onboard (wasn't onboard yet; I really think Ian thought Mickey would come around).

I don't think Ian is dumb, but he is evidently (and understandably) not very knowledgeable about renting a place to live, and as Tami points out in her conversation with Debbie, he never had any good role models for healthy communication in a romantic relationship. Mistakes will be made. This time he made a bad call, but as long as he realizes that, I don't really mind – I like flawed characters! (Though I'm very much with you on not liking the takes arguing that he made the right call in signing the lease.) Ian and Mickey both make their fair share of mistakes, and they are both good at forgiving the other and learning and growing and moving on.

(Relatedly, I think it's very interesting that Mickey immediately suspects that Ian deliberatedly set this up, and later that he's trying to manipulate him by using reverse psychology – I think it's becoming rather evident that the fallout over the first proposal has created some trust issues.)

Thank you once again for your interesting asks! My thoughts on this are still a work in progress, but writing about it helps me think about it. <3

[marvelfansince08love]

Secret Love

Word Count: 1720 

Pairing: Tammy x Female!Reader 

Prompts “I can’t live...not without you” “Wait, say that again?” “How could you be so irresponsible?!”

Warning: Some mention of injuries, angst with happy ending. 

A/N: For anon, thank you for sending in the request! Sorry for the slow posting I’ve had a hectic week and finally got to see my girlfriend after 14 weeks! I should be posting a lot more this coming week so enjoy! :) 

Also Tammy’s husband is called Hank in this.. if you know you know. Since we don’t know what he’s called and what HER LAST NAME IS Lmao

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this, a diamond always💛

I do not own this gif! 🖤

Prompts 17,18,20

"Oh, my god! Y/N, what happened to your face?!" Tammy exclaims, her face distraught at the sight of your cut up lip and bruised face as you walk through the door of her suburban home. She races forward and tenderly reaches out to touch the hot skin making you flinch away from her touch before muttering.

"I'm fine Tam, the guy got lucky and managed one good hit. I'm okay," you reassure her while gently removing her weary hands away from your face. She wrenches her hand free from your grasp and paces angrily in front of you while the others awkwardly filter into the house and head towards the kitchen area, leaving you with the angry blonde in the hallway.

“What the hell happened?!” She exclaims hands placed on her hips, a worrying frown in place. 

"Look me, Lou, Deb and Daph were out in a bar and some guys tried hitting on Debbie and Daphne, so Lou and I tried stepping in to get them to leave them alone. Turns out, some guys don't like being told to back off by a pair of "girls" and you know I bruise like a peach," you murmur, wincing slightly as the cut on your bottom lip rubs against your top lip as you speak. 

"How could you be so irresponsible?!" She exasperated wearing a hole into the floor from her pacing. You watch as Tammy's big brown eyes scan every inch of you with worry making you squirm slightly under her tense gaze. Her eyes finally meet yours and soften at your lost puppy, doe-eyed look.

"Come on, let's get you seated in the living room and cleaned up, maybe get you some pain killers. Are you hurting elsewhere?" She asks softly, gently wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You bask in her warm embrace for a moment, loving the close contact before stepping away slightly realising your place.

She's married Y/N, get over yourself.

She frowns confused at your quick retreat but focuses on getting you seated and grabbing ice from the kitchen. You hear low voices arguing between one another from the kitchen area making you grin softly, knowing that Tammy is probably scolding Debbie and Lou for bringing you back in this state. ‘Ever the mother hen of the group’ you smile to yourself. 

A few moments later Tammy renters the room, alone.

"Where are the other two? You haven't sent them to their rooms, have you?" You tease trying to ease the tension, it seems to work a little as a small smile spreads across her face making your heart flutter at the sight.

God, she's beautiful.

"No, I've sent them to the bottom step so they can think about what they've done.” She jokes before continuing “I’ve sent them home actually. I’m sure I can take care of you by myself," She teases back before taking a seat on the leg rest in front of you and making quick work at cleaning your cut lip. She gently daps at the dried-up blood making you wince causing her to hush you softly.

"You were big enough to get into a fight, so you can brave me cleaning your lip." She chastised.

"Hey! I didn't just get 'into a fight' Tam. He started it, I was just defending Daph- "

She laughs out loud humorlessly and shakes her head interrupting your defence. 

"Why am I not surprised that as soon as Daphne bloody Kluger is in a spec of trouble you come running in like the knight in shining armour. That guy could have seriously hurt you Y/N." she mutters, finishing up her work. You quickly take hold of her wrist stopping her from continuing. You lean back enough to meet her eyes as she tries to avoid your gaze.

"What do you mean by that, Tam? You just expected me to let them hit on her or worse? And by the way, I was defending her and Debbie, not just her." you retort, suddenly feeling angry at her accusation. You stand up abruptly making Tammy mimic your stance, confused at your sudden change in mood.

"Why do you care so much Tam? One minute you act like you don't give a shit about me and then all of a sudden you're like this overbearing jealous lover which I'm sure your husband loves by the way.” You pause for a breath, unable to help the following words. “Speaking of, your deadbeat husband shouldn't you be out on date night or something?" You grumble all too aware of the late-night phone calls you have been receiving from the blonde lately, complaining about his lack of interest in her and the kids, always out later than needing to be with a mysterious brunette. You’d sit and listen to her worries while reassuring her through truthful subtle words while secretly biting your tongue from saying what you really think of the asshole and that she could do so much better. You, more specifically.

“Trust me Tammy he’d be an idiot to cheat on you, you’re the best thing that guy has apart from your two beautiful children.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate you staying up and listening to me moan on,”

“Not the usual moaning I like to hear at 2am but I guess since it’s you,” you teased one late night, while lying in your king-size bed alone wishing to have the woman currently on the phone in bed with you. 

You're brought back from your thoughts by a loud scoff. 

“Oh, please Y/N. Stop being such a child!” She reprimanded making you gape at her in shock, pointing a finger to your chest.

“Me?! I'm a child! You're the one who’s acting like a jealous girlfriend right now. I mean Daphne? Really Tammy?” You dumbfounded. 

“Of course, Daphne! Ever since you joined the team last year she’s been onto you like a dog in heat, I’m surprised you haven’t slept with her yet with the way you two look at each other. And now look at you, all bruised up for some airheaded brunette.” She spats an ugly frown in place. 

“Again, I’ll ask why do you care so much?! And before you call her an airhead, remember she’s your friend too, Tammy. Besides, you’re still over here pretending to play happy families with a guy who couldn’t care less about you. So before you go judging me for my relations, think about your own first.” You retaliate instantly regretting your remark as you watch her worry her top lip while folding her arms across her chest, guarding herself. A deafening silence falls across the living room for a moment before Tammy speaks again, her voice low and trembly. 

“Of course, I care about you, trust me... I care so fucking much about you. If anything bad had happened to you tonight I… I would have never forgiven myself. I’m sorry for going at Daphne like that… that was cruel of me. You mean so much to me Y/N, ever since we were introduced on that heist last year I knew there was something there between us that connected us, you know? You lit something inside of me that made me feel alive again.  I haven’t felt like that since… for a long time.” Tammy rambles, stepping closer to you trying to reach for your hand making you step back needing the space.

“In case you have forgotten Tam, you're married and my single ass can do what the hell it wants but I choose not to go around sleeping with any woman especially my friends, Tam!  Daphne and I are just friends nothing more nothing less.” You reassure, your voice trembling slightly feeling the truth boiling inside of you. 

‘No woman compares to you,’ You secretly confess internally, huffing in frustration. 

“Well, what if I don’t like those roles very much.” She whispers, her eyes filling with unushered tears and a small sad smile.

“What are you saying?” You ask dumbfounded. 

“What I’m saying is, I’m sick of this pussyfooting around, these longing looks between us.  I can’t stay in a loveless marriage anymore. Not when I’m so in love with you,” she cups your cheek. “Me and Hank, we… we’re getting a divorce Y/N, that’s why he isn’t here tonight. He moved out last week. I’m waiting on the papers,” 

“Wait, say that again?” You demand quietly, needing to make sure you heard correctly. Your heart beats rapidly, hoping that you heard her right. 

“Hank and I are getting a divor-”

“No, the other thing.” You rushed, needing to hear her say it again. A soft smile appears on her full lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N. And if you’ll have me, I’d like to make something between us work. I don't care how long it takes, I… I just want you.” She vows.

 Without a second thought, you launch forward just as she does. Lips clashing hard against one another as you cradle the sides of her head softly with both hands, wincing slightly from the aching pain on your bottom lip making her pull away slightly only for you to pull her closer needing to savour the moment. Her arms wrap tightly around your waist resting against your back. The feeling of those soft lips that taste of cherry chapstick makes your heart burst with love and passion for this wonderful human being that you’ve been secretly longing for all this time. 

You both pull away simultaneously leaning your foreheads against one another as you both catch your breath, you laugh breathlessly finding this whole situation surreal. 

“I can’t believe all this time and I-” Tammy hovers her slim finger against your lip carefully to hush you.

“Just promise me one thing?” She asks quietly.

“Anything,”

“Promise you won’t get into another fight like this again? I can’t live...not without you,” She teases towards the end but the seriousness behind those sparkling brown eyes speak differently, making you nod in acknowledgement placing a light kiss to her forehead. 

“As long as I have you by my side Tam, you’ll never have to worry about that.” You promise.

With those secret love confessions said and done you seal that last promise with a kiss.

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 6

Word count: 2252

I groan, stirring against whatever hard surface I’m laying on. Wait, why am I laying on a hard surface and not my bed? My eyes open and I recognize the legs of my dining room chairs before anything else. Did I really sleep on my kitchen floor last night? Why would I do that?

My muscles cry as I lift myself into a sitting position and my head throbs as I rise to my feet. Oh, I passed out while drunk. That’s why.

There’s already a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water sitting on my kitchen counter, along with a note from Tyler wishing me luck after getting as blacked out drunk as I did. I guess all of the stress got to me last night with the cherry on top being the fight with Clayton that I figured the only way to make it better for a little while would be alcohol.

My muscles and my headache relax significantly as I shower, pulling on some leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, letting my wet hair fall over my shoulders as I gag over some crackers in the kitchen.

My phone is nowhere to be found in this room and I didn’t see it in the bathroom or my bedroom, so I head to the living room to find it. It takes ten minutes but I finally find it in between the pages of a book, which I should have noticed immediately since the width increased immensely.

All I want to do today is sleep and watch movies from the early 2000s, but I grab my backpack and head towards the library knowing I should study for these midterms so I don’t flunk out of this college that I’m oh so desperately trying to afford. It’s not as hard with a paycheck from Clayton, though.

I’m two units deep into my early American literature class when someone slides into the booth across from me. I finish the line I’m reading before looking up, smiling when my eyes meet Paige’s eyes.

I feel bad for leaving her last night, especially just to have a shitty interaction with Clayton. Instead of that I could’ve been comforting my old friend and shoving some more Oreos down her throat.

“I wanted to thank you for being there for me last night. I know we’ve kind of drifted apart, but I’m glad to know that I can always turn to you,” she tells me in a hushed voice.

My chest gets warm at her words. I was feeling so guilty for ditching her but all along she just cherished that I was there in the first place. “You’re welcome, Paige. Andrew’s a douchebag, you know that, right?”

She shrugs. “I’m getting there.”

I turn back to my laptop while she pulls out a notebook, scanning along the pages with her finger. An hour passes before she speaks again.

“So what are you doing Wednesday night?”

I bite my lip in thought. “Probably the same thing I’m doing right now.”

“Well, if you’d like to take a break for a couple of hours, let me know. I got tickets for the Coyotes game against the Blues and I was supposed to take Andrew but-”she shakes her head. “Just let me know by tomorrow if you’d like to go.”

“I’d love to go,” I smile at her. I might not know how hockey works despite the WAGs trying to explain it to me, but I am a woman who loves to see a bunch of hot, grown men sweaty and beating each other up. Plus, Clayton will be playing, and I want to watch and partially understand this time to see what he does that makes him so rich.

“Okay, cool, I’ll pick you up at six. You still live in the same apartment, right?” She asks, packing up her stuff. Some people give her looks as her volume has risen out of excitement, but I ignore them, nodding to her question. “See you then.”

“Bye.”

I watch her leave, pulling out my phone and beginning a text to the hockey player himself.

Hey, sorry for how things went the other night. Just wanted to let you know that a friend and I will be coming to watch your game against the Blues on Wednesday. Score a goal for me.

I hesitate before sending the message. I don’t like to apologize, deep down I know when I should apologize but I tend to not do it because of the issues I have buried within. It isn’t fair for the other person, especially for someone who might as well be putting his name on the check for Debbie, and I identify that it’s an issue that I need to work on.

I click send before I chicken out. I’m afraid of the response- I don’t know if he’ll still be angry with me, or perhaps even more angry- angry enough to cancel our contract or lower my pay.

He responds right away, just asking me where the seats are. I’m a little annoyed at the question, feeling like he should at least acknowledge the apology, but let him know that I have no clue where we’re sitting.

He leaves it at that and I go back to studying.

When Paige texts me details about our hangout on Wednesday night I tell Clayton where our seats are. Section 205, the middle section of the rink on the home side. He gives me a one word answer so I’m still left in the dark of how he feels.

Paige doesn’t own a jersey and neither do I so we just wear nice sweaters and jeans to the rink, unsure of how you exactly should dress for a hockey game. We find our seats and sit down, making small talk as we wait for warmups to begin.

When the players skate onto the ice, everybody cheers in excitement and my eyes find Clayton almost immediately.

It’s electrifying to watch him doing what he loves. He skates with a passion and a purpose, like every step and every move he’s going to make will be better than the last. He lifts his head towards the two hundred section and I lean in to talk into Paige’s ear. “Um, I should probably tell you something.”

She looks at me curiously. “What is it?”

“You see number nine? On the Coyotes?” I try my best to point at him. She nods. “He’s actually my uh, sugar daddy.”

She laughs, raising her eyebrows at me. “Are you kidding?”

I shake my head.

“You have a sugar daddy?”

“I have to pay the tuition somehow,” I defend, surveying her expression.

“I’m not judging,” she quickly reassures me, “That’s very progressive of you. Get that coin, girl.”

I grin at her, returning my attention to the ice. Almost as soon as I do my eyes meet familiar green ones. Green ones that I was looking at the other night while he was telling me that I’m not spending enough time with him.

I see him smile behind his helmet and the pressure from my heart lifts with the action. Thank god he’s not still mad at me. I don’t know why I cared so much anyways- I know he wouldn’t break the contract or pay me less, that’s not the type of guy that he is.

Maybe it’s because I had just a little bit of fear that he would leave. If he left I wouldn’t get to hear his crappy jokes anymore or listen to him talk about Fortnite or ignore Christian’s smirks in the morning as I leave their house.

Clayton maintains eye contact with me, lifting his hand to his ear in a phone motion. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“He wants me to call him? Right now? But he’s on the ice right now,” I ask Paige.

He must sense my confusion because he puts his hand in front of him, pointing at it with his finger like he’s pressing different ‘buttons.’

“Oh, he wants me to text him?” I inquire.

“I think he just wants you to watch your phone for when he texts you,” Paige clarifies.

“He’s not good at this whole charades thing,” I giggle, watching all of the players skate around the rink, stretch, and shoot pucks at the net.

They leave the ice and I pull out my phone, waiting patiently for it to ring or vibrate or do whatever the hell Clayton’s going to do.

It vibrates with a text and I open it, immediately rolling my eyes.

Clayton: Stay after the game.

Of course he wants to instantly get back into the argument as soon as I think we’re done. The game starts and hockey is a lot more confusing without help than I thought it would be. I would ask Paige a question and she’d give me an answer of what she thinks the answer is, and when she has a question I return the favor. When we definitely don’t know the answer, we use Professor Google.

The Coyotes win in the end, that much I know, and Paige and I remain in our seats searching up the answers to our questions while we wait for some more communication from Clayton.

A woman appears after a while, leading us downstairs to wait outside the locker room. Some of the players leave the locker room in their suits, giving us curious glances on their way towards their cars.

Christian grins like a cheshire cat as soon as he lands his eyes on me and I roll my eyes, giving his shoulder a shove.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Are you coming over tonight?” He questions, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. Paige giggles at that and I see Christian’s eyes sparkle at the sound.

“I don’t even know anymore, Christian,” I answer.

“Who’s your friend?” He asks, eyeing Paige with a flirty smile.

She looks shy and I grab her hand, feeling overprotective since she just had a traumatic and recent breakup.

“Out of your league, dude. Get out of here.”

He rolls his eyes but gives us a wave, heading down the hall. “See you at home, Y/N!”

“Sorry about that, Paige,” I apologize to her.

“No, it’s fine, um,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “He’s actually kind of cute.”

I give her a soft smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready. I can give him your number.”

She nods. The intimate moment is broken as Clayton leaves the locker room, heading our way as soon as he sees us. I introduce the two to each other and the brunette turns to me.

“Are you coming home with me tonight? I won’t be playing Fortnite, don’t worry,” he adds a snarky comment.

I raise my eyebrows at that. “I apologized, okay? Remember when I apologized on Monday and you completely ignored it?”

“Remember how you completely ignored the fact that you’re in a contract to spend time with me?” He retorts.

“I don’t have to spend every second of every day with you, Clay-””Hey, uh, guys? People are starting to stare,” Paige interrupts us worriedly.

I look around. It’s true. Some of the workers and lingering people are so clearly eavesdropping on our argument- well, now they know that Clayton has a sugar baby. Even though I’m shameless, I know better than to continue this argument in a public place.

“Let’s go back to my place,” Clayton nods towards the hallway towards the parking garage.

I turn to look at Paige but she nods at the tall man. “Go, I’ll be fine. Work out whatever you need to work out.”

I give her a gracious smile, falling into step beside Clayton as we head down the hall. “Go to my place, I have some studying to do tonight after this conversation.”

~

Clayton and I sit down after getting back to my apartment, having a conversation where we’re both completely honest with each other and laying out all of our thoughts and emotions. I think we’ve both come to the realization that although we both lead busy lives, we need to make time for each other. However, that doesn’t mean dropping everything at the other’s beck and call.

“Say it,” Clayton gives me a toothy grin.

“I promise to make time for you.” I stick out my pinky finger. “Now you say it.”

“I promise to respect it when you can’t make time for me.” He attaches his pinky finger to mine and we shake on it.

“Okay, now I need to study before we do anything else,” I inform him, grabbing the textbook from the coffee table and pulling it into my lap.

He pulls me across the table into his lap, looking over my shoulder. “What is this?”

“Anatomy,” I answer, trying to find the place I left off at when we left for the game.

“Gross.” He says that but I can feel him reading over my shoulder, even resting his chin on my shoulder to get a better view.

A half an hour passes before Clayton gets antsy, shifting below me and turning his head.

“Okay, time to pay attention to me now,” he declares, pushing the book off of my lap and onto the floor.

“Clayton!” My protests fall on deaf ears as he yanks me below him, hovering over me and pressing his lips onto mine.

I can’t even help but to laugh.

[mystery-deer]

Kids (Wip)

Jake was great at looking after kids. Or, he assumed he was. People told him he was basically a kid so he imagined that babysitting would just be him and however many kids jumping around a bounce house and eating two types of cereal until their parents got back.

Which is why when Terry asked if there was anyone free to help babysit he volunteered immediately. 

“So what’s up with Cagney and Lace?” He asked, spinning around in his chair. “Don’t shorten my daughters’ names.” “What’s up with cags and the lace case?” He sang. “Cagney and lacey, braids of steel! Their big dad cooks their favorite meals and they go go go go go go to school and get good grades!” Terry looked upset at the butchering of his children’s names but very proud at how accomplished they were in his song. “It’s not them you’re going to be babysitting.” He explained, looking at a clipboard. “A lawyer, Laverne Holt is here and she-” There was a sudden clatter as Santiago rushed to their side, breathing heavily. “Damn Santiago!” Terry exclaimed. “Sir! I request to be allowed to help!” She demanded, slowly straightening out to her full (tiny) height. “Um.” “Sir, do you really trust Jake alone? To take care of such an important mission?” Jake held out his arms in disbelief. “Important? It’s just taking care of some lawyer’s kid! How hard is taking care of kids right Sarge?” “Yeah go with him.” Terry said immediately. “What!?” Cried Jake at the same time Amy started her speech with, “Laverene Holt is not just SOME lawyer!” It turned out that Laverene Holt was indeed not just some lawyer. She was also the most serious woman on the planet. She sat in the break room with her legs together, hands in her lap, face grave. Her son sat next to her in much the same position except he was sipping on what looked to be boxed water. Her daughter sat beside him, attempting to get off the couch every few seconds only to be gently pushed back in place by her brother. “Deborah, please stay seated.” He requested softly. Jake knew immediately he’d made a horrible mistake. Amy smiled and rushed to the Lawyer’s side, holding her hand out and gasping when it was taken. “Hello, I am Laverne Holt and I am relinquishing my children into your care for the better part of two hours while I take care of an urgent matter.” Jake scoffed, lawyers. “What is it? Lying to get some jerk back out onto the streets?” “Jake!” Amy cried, swinging her head back from him to the woman. “I’m so sorry about him, he’ll die if he isn’t given enough attention.” “I see.” Holt stared into his eyes, searching, prodding. “I wonder if your disdain of a fair trial implies something about your work.” She mused.  Jake looked away, feeling very uncomfortable with the too-much eye contact. Amy leaped in to defend him. “Oh, no Jake is- Detective Peralta isn’t-” “Well that doesn’t matter- right now. Right now I have other matters to attend to and so I will have to be off.” She bent down to be at eye level with her son, who had finished his water and been watching the conversation with the same silent intensity that his mother had. “Raymond, please look after your sister as you are the oldest. And please listen to Detective Santiago.” “I will.” “I will be back soon.” She repeated the same instructions to her daughter who smiled and babbled at her. “Aren’t you cute.” She said flatly before giving them both a hug. “I will be back soon.” And with that she was gone. Jake and Amy stared at the two children who looked back at them expectantly. “Uh..so..what are your names?” Amy started cheerfully. “My name is Raymond Jacob Holt.” He stated and then turned to his sister, lifting her up into his lap to keep her from falling off the couch. “And this is my younger sister, Deborah Rosa Holt.” “Oh hey, we have a Rosa! And my name’s Jacob!” “My sister’s middle name is from the civil rights hero Rosa Parks.” Raymond offered, Jake was unsure if this was just a fact or a reproach. “Cool!” He tried. “My middle name came from the fact that my father liked the name.” “Oh! That’s cool, it’s a cool name.” He grinned. “My father died a few months ago.” Raymond offered. “...........greeeeat.” “Not! That your father died!” Amy jumped in, glaring at Jake. “That’s very sad!” “Yes.” Raymond nodded, seemingly satisfied. “It is very sad. I am very sad about it.” He paused thoughtfully. “I would like to play.” Jake perked up, now THIS he could do. “Sure! What do you wanna play? Tag? Your sister might be a bit too young for that one...hide and seek? We might have a bouncy castle in storage somewhere-” “I would like to play with my trains.” Raymond interrupted, seeming perturbed by Jake’s suggestions. “And Deborah would like to chew on something.” He added, allowing her to chew on his empty box of water. “Is she teething?” Asked Amy. “No. She just enjoys it.” _________ Jake and Amy closed the door quietly to the playroom as Raymond marveled at the honestly very sad looking model train set. They had snuck out as he was telling his sister (who was chewing the leg of a barbie doll) about all the different parts of the train and its station. “Isn’t he the cutest?” Asked Amy at the same time Jake asked, “Isn’t that kid so weird!?” “What!? Amy, he’s like a little robot! Don’t tell me you didn’t see him drinking boxed water. What? Would Apple Juice ruin his circuitry?” “Maybe he likes water and is allergic to fruit like lots of people are!” Amy asserted defensively. “Either way you have to admit, at least he’s easy to take care of.” At that moment Jake felt something tiny kick him in the back of the knee and he went down like a sack of potatoes. “Ow! What the -!?” A demonic yet oddly cultured laugh filled the corridor and he looked up to see a small redheaded boy about Raymond’s age doing his best to loom over him. He was dressed even more properly than Raymond, wearing a button up shirt, dress pants, and suspenders. He looked like he had gotten lost on his way to a country club. “Can I help you?” Asked Amy. “No.” Said the boy, turning and walking down the hall. At that moment Terry appeared at the other end, out of breath and pointing dramatically past the detectives. “Stop that kid!” He screamed at the same moment the boy began to run. After ten minutes of chasing and hiding and finding him only for him to give them the slip they finally caught his ankle as he was attempting to crawl into a vent and brought him back to the bullpen. “We...we ...got’m sir….” Jake panted, falling into his chair as Amy handed him over to the Sarge. “Safe...and sound!” She wheezed, falling into her own. “Kevin!” Barked a man who must have been his father. “You had your mother worried sick you know that?” Kevin didn’t seem too bothered by this and stuck his tongue out at the detectives rather than listen to his father. Jake stuck his tongue right back out at him. “Kevin, did you hear me? Apologize right this instant.” Kevin’s entire demeanor sagged into sorrow as he walked over to his mother (who seemed like the kind of woman who was always worried about something, eyes wide and mouth set into a thin frown) “My deepest apologies mother.” He recited without emotion. “I simply wanted to see if there were other children I could play with.” His mother melted at his words and hugged him fiercely. His father looked unimpressed. “Oh of course!” She glanced around at the detectives. “I’m so sorry about him causing a bit of mischief but you know how it is, boys will be boys!” “Boys will be brats more like.” Jake muttered. Amy nodded slightly. “If you’re that eager to play go play with Martin.” The boy’s father demanded, pointing to the boy sitting next to Kevin’s mother. He had been being so quiet that no one had noticed him and he seemed none too pleased to be noticed now. “Martin’s boring.” Kevin murmured and this indictment seemed to make his brother curl up even further into himself. “We have a playroom!” Terry interceded before anyone started shouting. “And my detectives would be happy to supervise them in there. Right detectives?” “Uh we-” “Well Sarge I think-” “RIGHT. DETECTIVES?” “....Yeah I-” “Sure yeah we’d love to…” Terry escorted the two boys there with them (he didn’t trust Santiago or Peralta to be able to wrangle them if they weren’t confined to a single room). Raymond barely looked up when they entered. He was staring at a train which was in the station. “Hello.” He said. “Hey there!” Terry called happily, letting go of Kevin and his brother. “Whatcha doing there?” “Playing with my train.” “Oh? Is it supposed to be moving?” Raymond looked up, annoyed for the first time. “No. It can’t move for two minutes or else people will not be able to get on in time and there will be congestion in the tunnels.” “I seee…” Terry said, smiling though he was obviously confused. “Well, I think you’re being a very good train conductor!” “I am a station manager.” He said. “But thank you.” “Bah!” Terry looked down in surprise as Debbie grabbed at his ankle and stood, smiling and bobbing. “Hello there little cutie!” He cried happily, lifting her up and smiling as she giggled. “That’s Deborah, she’s my sister.” Raymond said, finally moving his train and stating a few train announcements clearly. “Please do not lean against the doors…” “Aww, she’s a little cutie pie...and she was left all ALONE in a room for god knows HOW long~??” He asked cheerfully, eyes squarely on his detectives. “We didn’t know we’d have to chase after Dennis the Menace over here!” Jake insisted, pointing at Kevin who had been whispering something to his brother and was now smiling politely. “We were going to get some snacks for them!” Amy cried, opening the door. “I’ll go get them now! What do you guys want? Not you Jake.” She said, seeing him open his mouth. “I would like some fruit, an apple is preferable.” Raymond said. “Baahhh….choochoo!” Debbie exclaimed, pointing at Raymond’s train which launched him into an explanation that it was NOT a steam engine Deborah this was a much more high tech model, you see- “I’d like chips please.” Kevin asked, swinging his legs. “Finally, someone normal-” Jake sighed. “But none with flavor. If you only have those disgusting red hot or barbeque chips then please don’t get me any.” “You’re all wastes of youth…” Jake groaned. “I..I want um..” Martin piped up, looking nervous in the same way his mother did. Perpetually. “Uh…” “He wants a lollipop.” Kevin said, annoyed by his brother’s hesitance. Martin nodded, relieved to not have to talk anymore. “Okay, I’ll be right back!” Amy said, repeating the orders as she walked back down the hall.

[asktherexsquad]

RB which one of the squad members do you think you relate to the most?

Long after Rex and Rem have left, RB is still standing in the exact same spot, with the exact same dumb look stuck on his face.

Rocket's laughter had since died down, and he glances over at RB with a look of mixed amusement and mild impatience. Hey, Brickowski, you gonna make me finish these by myself while you daydream about my boyfriend? He rattles the stack of dishes, making them clatter together, hoping the noise would help startle him from his daze.

RB blinks, turning towards Rocket in surprise.

Huh? Wait- I wasn't-- Uh. You know what? Nevermind.

He shakes his head, finally being knocked out of his stupor, and gets back to work on the dishes with Rocket.

Rocket snickers. I know, I know. He falls silent again as he gets to cleaning, his smile fading.

…How could he start…?

... Hey, Brickowski, uh… The real reason I volunteered to help is, uh… I wanted to talk to you. Rocket turns and sets one of the clean dishes in the drainer, giving an uncomfortable wince. Yeah, bringing this up wasn't something he was looking forward to.

RB pauses partway through scrubbing a dish to glance over at Rocket, taking note of his far more serious demeanour than his earlier cheeky teasing.

Uh, ok, sure. What do you want to talk about?

Rocket sighs quietly, mustering up his courage. Now, I know that this is never easy for any of us to talk about. And if I'm right, then definitely not… us. But… Hearing you talk about your own timeline earlier got me thinking, and, well… Rocket scowled. He wasn't doing his right. He sounded ridiculous, starting and stopping and beating around the bush… He just had to say what was on his mind.

... I think we might be a lot alike. Y'know. In ways other than the obvious. He turns away places another dish on the drying rack, hoping to hide his discomfort.

RB stops washing up, pausing for a moment, before he takes his hands out the bowl and dries them off.

So this was the subject Rocket wanted to get into? Well… then RB guessed they were going there. He guessed the others would have gotten more curious about his past at some point, and he had to admit, he himself was curious about their similarities. Particularly with him and Rocket. They did seem quite alike…

Maybe it was time they found out just how much?

I was thinking that too… I mean, I think you and I look the most similar physically to each other. And well, Rex seems a lot like I used to, but also… younger? Maybe? But you and me… I think it's safe to say we've been around the block a bit more than him.

Rocket gives a half smile, shaking his hands off slightly before grabbing the towel himself. You can say that again. Rex is about three years out, himself. Five years for you, I think you said? Rocket nods. Pretty sure I have at least two on you there… Likely more. Well… the ice had been broken.

Two more huh? Quite a while to be wandering around time and space. Guess you got even more stories to tell, huh? As well the souvenirs to go with them…

Rocket glances down at his left arm, at what was clearly an old bite mark scar, and chuckles. Ah, I suppose I do. And I'm sure you have plenty to tell, yourself! Rocket turns, walking over to the table and pulling up one of the chairs, reclining comfortably in it. So, then. Who starts?

RB walks over as well and pulls up a chair beside him. He leans back, clasping his hands together and resting them in his lap.

Well… Since you asked me first, I guess I can start…

He briefly closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath as he thinks. How does he sum everything up? And how does he do it without seeming like the biggest bastard in existence?

Lets see… So, I got free of Undar, toughened up, built the Rexcelsior, travelled through time, got a load of raptors, did a whole load of different shit like, galaxy defending, raptor training, archeology, learning how to fight and master break, all that stuff and did it in 5 years. Same as you so far?

Rocket raises one eyebrow. Kind of… More or less, yeah. He waits for him to continue.

RB nods, then frowns for a moment, thinking about how much he should and shouldn't say, before he looks back at Rocket.

Cool… So then after that… Well, let's just say I decided to try and change my past. It… Didn't work. I ended up erasing myself from existence. You know, like Back to the futuring?

RB gives a little smile at his reference, but it just looks more like a pained grimace. Although it doesn't stay on his face long before it's replaced with a frown.

That should have been it for me. I should have probably stayed erased… I should be dead, but I'm not. Ended up back in my original timeline. I got put back there the moment I'd first left it in my Rexcelsior. But it was just me. I ended up alone in the desert outside Syspocalyspstar. No Rexcelsior, no raptors, nothing. And what could I do except head into civilisation? And of course, I just had to run into some familiar faces, didn't I?

RB looks at nothing wistfully for a moment, a small smile grows on his face.

It took a while, but things worked out between me and them. They helped me be a lot less of a bastard. So I'm just trying to build on that, be happier with who I am, you know, combine both the ways I used to be. I'm doing better, but I'm not perfect. But at least… I'm not alone anymore.

Rocket's expression softens as he listens to RB's story in silence. When he finishes, Rocket nods slightly, smiling. Well… It looks like I was partially right, at least. Our timelines might be a lot less similar that I initially thought, but… There are still quite a few parallels. Rocket looks down at his lap, clasping his hands together.

There were definitely things RB wasn't telling him. But then again, there were things Rocket wasn't ready to reveal, either, so he supposed it was only fair.

Right. I guess it's my turn now. RB had started at his turning point, Rocket figured he should do the same. So... I imagine not too much is different between our stories at the beginning. Wanting to reinvent yourself, and going out into space to accomplish that… Seems to be the most common trope between all of us right there. Rocket tilts his head.

I can understand wanting to go back and change the past. For me, though, I decided that the best way to move on from my past was to forget about it completely. So I did… a lot of shit. I guess at this point I can see I was just trying to distract myself? But, ah… He gives RB a half-grin. I was, how did you put it…? A real bastard.

Rocket trails off at that, smile fading. I… made quite a few enemies. Got myself and my crew into some real trouble. His hands tighten in his lap. At the time, it seemed like one big, cool adventure. I was doing whatever I wanted, screw anyone that tried to stop me! and all that…

He sighs, breaking eye contact, looking down again. Then… I… I got Ripley killed.

He swallows hard. And I realized that I couldn't keep doing this.

Rocket shakes his head, talking fast. So I stopped. I let the raptors go. Found a planet where they could be safe and released them. Replaced them with an AI to help me run the ship instead. Stayed like that for a while. And… when all the shit I'd done finally caught up to me… I ended up here, in an irreparable Rexcelsior, half dead. He shrugs one shoulder. Then they found me. And… here I am now.

There's a quiet pause. Then Rocket leans back, giving a huff that was almost a laugh. Gee, look at me, Mr. Debbie Downer over here! Sorry for talking your ear off like that, Brickowski!

RB frowns as he listens to Rocket's story and takes it all in. A pang of sorrow shoots through his heart as he hears about Ripley. He didn't want to imagine what Rocket must have felt after that.

But as his story ends, he looks down at his hands and sighs.

Don't be sorry, you didn't. And well, I understand wanting to forget about your past. I tried doing that for a little while in the Old West, but it didn't stick. All the anger I had wouldn't let me go…

And I think I would have done the same with the raptors if I'd been in your shoes. Which, saying it out loud and considering who we both are, that sounds kinda dumb and obvious, huh? RB says with a half smile and a chuckle, before he gets a somber, empathetic look on his face.

And… I'm sorry to hear about your raptors and Rexcelsior. But believe me when I say, I know how much you probably miss them. But I suppose you at least have Rem, and Rex, and all this now. That's gotta mean at least some good came from it all, right?

Rocket nods. That's true. I got real lucky with that… He gives RB a wry smile. ... You're not the only one shouldn't be sitting here right now.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. It's hard. To let go of your old life completely… and everything that came with it. Be it the life before Undar, or the lives we made for ourselves that we lost. But… I think it's safe to say we're both better off for it, wouldn't you? He gives RB a warm smile.

... Yeah. I would. Some things just end up working out, even if the road getting there was rough. Sometimes those things need to happen. I know there's a lot I regret, but I wouldn't risk changing a thing. What I have now, what we both have, is too special to lose. Don't you think? He says, giving Rocket an equally warm smile.

Without a doubt.

Rocket felt as if a small weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had never really felt comfortable talking about this with Rex and Rem. As much as they cared about him, he knew, they wouldn't really be able to understand him like this. Being able to talk it out with someone who felt similarly was more of a relief than he had expected.

... We should probably finish those dishes next though, before the other two get back and wonder what the hell we were doing. Rocket chuckles and stands, holding out a hand to RB.

He chuckles as well, taking a hold of Rocket's hand and clasping it tight in solidarity.

Sounds like a plan to me pal.

[debbiewilder]

the meaning of “real actress” for Ruth

y’all ever think about how Ruth wants to become a “real actress” and get “real parts” because she can't communicate anything “real” in her life :/

I also just think how the word “real” is used in relation to Ruth throughout the series is interesting.

The first time it’s used, the word is used to diminish Ruth. The casting director Mallory says: “Every director says, “Bring me someone I don’t know. Someone I haven’t seen. I want a girl who’s real.” So I bring you in so they can see that they don't actually want the thing they think they want.”

So, basically she’s told that her “realness” makes her unfit for the escapist version of real. In a way, that’s what Ruth does with the word real too. She calls herself a real actress but self destructs when given any real opportunity to act. Just in the pilot, she’s given an audition. She reads the wrong part. Sure, that’s badass in ways and really shows who she is but it’s also…incredibly self destructive, disrespectful, and isn’t going to help her move up from smaller roles to get the “real” roles she desires. Her idealism gets in the way of her achieving her goals. Her obsession with being a real actress inhibits her ability to act at all. Later in the episode, she ruins her chances at GLOW by being obsessed with showing off that she’s a real actress. She doesn’t follow a simple direction and has to impose the real actress thing on this audition (she then uses this term “real actress” as the only way to defend why she should stay in GLOW versus keeping Carmen; Sam chooses Carmen). 

In retrospect, there are a lot of layers to the way the pilot is structured. We go from Ruth talking about wanting “real parts.” And the very next scene shows Ruth and Debbie together. This juxtaposition is meaningful in my opinion because Ruth can’t communicate in any real way to Debbie. She’s already slept with Mark. In the scene, Ruth hands Debbie her windbreaker thingy and yes it’s out of kindness maybe but as I’ve said before I think it’s also because she doesn't want to face how deep that betrayal is (she didn’t just have sex with her friend’s husband, it’s her friend who has a baby and is still lactating that she’s betrayed…really really really bad). So, Ruth talks about “real” parts in acting but fails to communicate honestly with Debbie in 1x01. And of course the betrayal itself comes out of a lack of coping in a healthy way with her own insecurities and a lack of honest communication with Debbie. 

In addition, these two scene are visually connected by mirrors. Mirrors are used throughout the series, often in relation to Debbie but they occasionally occur for Ruth as well. Of course, mirrors often suggest truth, honesty, etc. I think it’s interesting that Ruth never looks at her own reflection in that scene with the casting director Mallory. She looks at Mallory in the mirror and watches her the whole time as she speaks of real parts, even when Mallory leaves she’s still facing Mallory’s direction rather than looking inward at all or towards her own reflection. She’s so focused on her own goals and “real parts” that she can’t seem to see herself. 

This next two scenes (Ruth and Debbie in the exercise class, then in the locker room) feature mirrors prominently with characters even looking at their own reflections but not even seeming to really see themselves. The mirrors seem to suggest in subtext: Ruth can’t face her own truth (casting director scene), Debbie can’t face her own truth (exercise class scene), they can’t face each other honestly (locker room scene).

There are actually a lot of other scenes in the pilot that feature a mirror with Ruth including the next scene but I have nothing I really want to say about those so moving on. I want to delve into Ruth’s obsession with the term “real actress” and how it negatively impacts her life.

As I’ve said, the term “real actress” leads Ruth to destruct the real opportunities to act that she gets in 1x01. She’s so focused on this term she can’t see the opportunities in front of her. She also still can’t deal with the shame of not getting roles in a healthy way in 3x09. She has to blame Sam, get disgusted by Sam, because her thinking about acting is so all or nothing that she can’t cope with the shame of not getting this small role (if she can't get this role, it means she’s not a real actress and her whole identity is crushed; if she can blame Sam, she can still salvage that identity as real actress because it’s not on her, it’s on someone else). Look at how many times she blames Sam in this one line: “That’s when you’d feel like an asshole? You called me in. You knew how much this would mean to me! You made me feel like I finally had a chance to do something real.” The number of times the word “you” is said. And, again, it’s about wanting to do something real in fiction while she ruins anything that could be real with Sam. It’s about pushing away her shame onto someone else. A bit later in the scene, she says “I’ll pour out my heart to you about what a fucking failure I am, and you’ll pretend to listen, and then you’ll try to get in my pants.” Again, she’s labeling herself, here as a failure (it’s either fucking failure or a real actress, there’s clearly no in between in her head) and it makes it so she can’t see the audition for what it was and can’t see Sam for who he is and it makes it so that she can’t show up for Sheila later. 

Ruth totally ruins her scene with Sheila. She says Sheila’s a better actress than her. And I don't even think that’s necessarily true. Ruth was, from what I remember, basically cold reading the freaking scene when she met up with Sheila yet still felt so much insecurity that Sheila could even clearly see it and pointed it out. She didn’t study the scene yet. Of course she wouldn’t be as good. But she’s so all or nothing and then just doesn't show up to the performance, it’s just…”Sheila’s a better actress.” Like...girl, maybe study a bit more? 

She carries the specter of Katharine Hepburn around with her in the form of that huge portrait, reminding her of the dissonance of who she is versus who she wants to be, that it’s “real actress” or failure. It looms in the background as Ruth calls her parents and asks for more money in 1x01 (as do mirrors), as Ruth talks to Sheila about Sheila’s costume that’s not a costume in 1x04. I think these two characters are foils in ways, real actress isn’t a costume just like the she-wolf isn't a costume. It’s a protection, it’s something to build their identities around. Sheila’s able to let go of that she-wolf identity because she recognizes how it was getting in her way and it isn’t about throwing away who she is but about becoming even more of herself by letting go of that element. Of course Sheila is with Ruth for these huge moments of clarity, the two are connected with that aspect of their identity that they need to shed, that isn’t serving them. But, Ruth clings on even harder while Sheila is willing to grow and risk and “gamble.” (Ruth’s line to Sam in 3x02: “I don’t understand why anyone gambles” has layers. She doesn’t take gambles in life. She wants to be real actress and when she fears she might fail, she just doesn’t show up or blames others or compares herself or reads the wrong role etc etc. She doesn’t gamble with her love life. She just kind of knows Russell is wrong for her and doesn't let him go because that’s a risk, she only goes after Sam after he says that he’s in love with her and that she’s in love with him (she gets to follow his script so there’s safety in that) but as soon as she gets beyond the “I love you” with Sam, she just self destructs because she doesn't want to take a risk and would rather ruin it in the beginning because there’s control in that (I mean, she’s already pre-ruined it in ways since she’s telling him she’s in love with him while still dating Russell ffs), when Debbie offers her a different vision of the future Ruth doesn’t take it because she can’t let go of that “real actress” identity and can’t take a gamble etc etc)

Yes, she takes GLOW because she’s desperate and all of that. But the core identity thing is that she views herself as a real actress and that inhibits her from doing what she loves. She easily could’ve shown up to that performance with Sheila, we’re told that when Ruth says she can have a drink with Sam that she could still make the performance. The point is, her shame over failing that term “real actress” when she didn’t get a role in Justine’s film stopped her from appearing with Sheila in case she risked failing again. She’d rather fail by not showing up than risk humiliation and see she’s not good enough. She says she wants real roles but when she gets them with Sheila, it’s not right because Sheila’s better, because this or that...in truth, the real actress shit is all self destructive bullshit. In truth, it’s stopping her in art and in life.

Ruth likes control and she’s very all or nothing (Debbie is too but in a different way). Ruth is all or nothing about her ideals. She’s so ashamed of her own inability to live up to this “real actress” identity she’s constructed for herself, inability to live up to that large portrait she carries everywhere, that she does nothing as an actress. She can’t. The dissonance between reality and her imagined ideal is too great, grows greater by the day. She’s not in that scene study with Sheila and Tammé etc I think it’s not necessarily that she doesn’t care about acting and shouldn’t do it at all, it’s that her view of acting is messed up and needs to change.

Ruth sees other people around her moving on and taking gambles at life and gaining so much success while she just…stays the same. That moment facing the mirror in the changing room is powerful because of all of this subtext. And yet she still sublimates all of her real into that term “real actress” and fails to find a way to cultivate anything real in her life. She’s desperate to be a real actress but in her real life clings onto Russell when she knows he’s not right. She’s desperate to be a real actress but can’t be a real friend in 1x01. She’s desperate to be a real actress but can't deal with real feelings/humiliation in 3x09, she’s desperate to be a real actress so rejects risking anything with Sam. She’s not sure why she had sex with Mark and so much about herself. She’s not sure how she feels about Russell or Sam. She’s told how they feel about her and kind of takes it from there rather than instigating or sorting out much of anything on her own. She just kind of lets people tell her what to do and how to feel and who to be. It’s like she thinks some role is going to save her and give her all that she needs instead of finding agency and power in her own life.

She pushes all of her closest relationships away because of this obsession—Sam in 3x09, Debbie in 1x01 and in 3x10 (not that I think she was wrong to speak up in 3x10 in ways because I think Debbie’s offer could’ve been phrased better but Ruth’s words came out of this real actress obsession, and she could’ve spoken up without pushing Debbie’s offer totally away in that scene), Russell (her relationship is a mess and she can’t face breaking up with him or how she really feels about him) etc. 

I think she lets herself be pushed around by all these people in her life because she thinks it somehow doesn't matter as long as she’s escaping into “real parts.” That’s where she gets to feel powerful and strong. It’s interesting because actress = someone who acts = active person. And, Ruth can’t seem to act or actively pursue much that matters to her let alone in a healthy way. She needs to honestly uncover what she wants from her career, from acting, from others in her life, and from herself and go after it without that perfectionist shit, without that escapism, she needs to not only express to but uncover how she actually feels about the people in her life—Sam, Russell, Debbie, etc. Because until she can express and actually let herself feel and face herself honestly, she’s never going to be happy in a real way. Not even if she’s cast in a huge, "real” role tomorrow. It’s not going to save her. In fact, I’d argue she can’t even be a real actress and express truth in art until she’s capable of facing truth in her own life.

She can’t even face her own shame or wants because she just says this phrase again and again. I think her arc, if GLOW is given a season 4, will be about letting go of the phrase “real actress” and finding out what she really wants. She could still want acting, but she can't want it the way she’s been pursuing/not pursuing it. She could want directing. She could want to go back to Nebraska and teach. Probably not but who knows. But she can’t just keep repeating the same unhealthy patterns. Ruth stays the same, these audition rooms stay the same in 1x01 and 3x09, while the people around her in GLOW grow and change. 

So, this is the foundation of Ruth’s arc. She wants to be a real actress but really needs to find the strength to be a real person. Or something.

[shamelessgallagherimagines]

The Stupid Little Things - Part 22/? - Carl Gallagher x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / The rest of the parts

@tmrhollandkay - Thank you so so much for your kind words! They inspired me to get my shit together and finished this chapter. I hope you like it!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Living with the Gallaghers was natural to me, I’d spent every waking moment of my childhood in that house so I used to being surrounded with the craziness that came with the family. I slotted perfectly into the order of things, or as perfectly as I could in a house that had no order, and nobody talked about my parents and what had happened so I was happy enough.

 Carl, as I expected, wanted to put them six feet under but I eventually convinced him to let go of the bitterness and the anger and cuddle with me instead. It was easy with Carl, we knew each other inside out, so we only needed to look at each other to know what the other was thinking. That’s why it was almost impossible to hide the fact that I wanted to go back to my own house and knock them out myself. But I didn’t, I was the good girl. The good girl who loved the Gallaghers.

 But there were changes, atmospheres that simply hadn’t existed when we were little and it freaked me out a little at first. The romantic change between me and Carl was obvious enough but some would argue it had always been there. Yet there was a noticeable difference between Lip and Carl. And it fucking scared me a little. They would hardly look at each other and even though I knew they would defend each other to the ends of the earth, the whole house became hostile. I could only take so much before I exploded.

 “Hey, Lip?” I called as he walked through the front door on evening, his hair soaking wet from the downpour outside. I’d been seeing him less and less lately and when I moved in he almost seemed to move out.

As soon as he saw me and Carl sat on the sofa, his arm draped around mine, he turned back around charging back outside again.

“What the fuck Lip?” Carl said jumping up, me seconds behind him, chasing after the older Gallagher who seemed to have started to despise us.

“Lip? You okay?” I said, running ahead of Carl and catching Lip outside of a car, struggling with the keys and trying to jump inside. I threw myself in front of the car door before he could.

“Move out of the way Y/N,” he said flatly, unable to look me in the eyes.

“Philip Gallagher, when have I ever listened to a word you’ve said in the entire time I’ve moved here. Exactly, none”

I was trying to keep my tone casual and playful but Lip’s jaw only locked further.

“Out of the way Y/N,” he said his voice distracted almost, like he was trying to hide his emotions from me.

I was starting to feel pissed.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand what I’ve done for you to hate me this much.”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head and meeting my gaze for a split second before looking away.

“You haven’t done anything!” he shouted, making me flinch “You haven’t done a fucking thing! You never have!”

He was running his hands through his hair and it was impossible to disguise the alcohol in his breath. It reeked of regret.

“LIP DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

He shot around to face Carl who was suddenly going into protective mode, charging towards us, eyes alight with anger.

“As if I’d lay a fucking finger on her. Really Carl, you really want to fucking go there,”

Carl pushed his shoulder but Lip didn’t even flinch, pushing him back harder, making Carl stumble backwards. Carl was strong but Lip was stronger, of course he was, he was double his weight.

“Carl he wasn’t gonna hurt me” I said “He’s being an asshole and he’s drunk off of his ass, yes, but he wasn’t going to hurt me”

The two brothers just stood staring at each other, forehead to forehead, Lip towering over my boyfriend. You could’ve smelt the testosterone a mile away.

“Okay guys, enough is fucking enough, its pissing itself down out here. Can we go inside now?”

Neither of them was listening to me.

“What’s you fucking problem man? All the passive aggressiveness, the fucking dirty looks, all the fucking time you spend away from the house,” Carl said and Lip shook his head, laughing coldly.

Carl lunged for him but Lip didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t move a muscle.

“Oh my god! Can you guys give it a fucking rest,”

Lip shot me a pained look before continuing his rant to Carl.

“Hate your brother and hide your gold huh?”

“What the fuck does that mean. Don’t get fucking philosophical on me Lip,”

“I gave up half of my childhood fucking raising you and you’re just going to stand there and talk to me like shit. Show me some fucking respect. Everything I do, I do for you Carl and the rest of our fucked up family”

And of course, none of us could argue with that, we all just stood awkwardly in the rain.

 “You know I think I’m done living at home. I’m going back to college,” Lip said eventually, turning back to the car door.

“Lip your completely hammered you are not getting in that car,” I said, resting my hand on his arm. He shrugged me off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Lip,” said Carl.

“You wanna know what this is really about do you?”

“I already fucking know what this is about. Who this is about.”

Carl took a step towards me, creating a barrier between me and Lip and looked at him pointedly.

“Hide your fucking gold,” Lip repeated looking at me and then back at Carl, nodding his head as he bowed it “I get it little bro, I get it”

Then he looked at Carl with menace.

He gave a military salute and Carl sunk in on himself, his eyes opening with alarm as if Lip had just revealed his darkest secret. I was more than confused to say the least

“She’s a keeper soldier,” Lip said, stumbling towards Carl and tapping him on the cheek before storming into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Me and Carl stood in the rain silent with shock.

 “He’s drinking too much” I said as Carl looked at the ground

“I know”

“I know? What kind of a fucking answers that, you’re losing your brother Carl,”

“I know,” he said again and I gave him a pained expression “Look, if I could send him to fucking rehab myself, I would”

“He’s an adult,” I said, watching his shadow against the front window as he walked up the stairs “You can’t just ship him off to rehab. He needs help, he needs us”

“Yeah well, he doesn’t fucking like us at the moment. He needs to be away from here. He’s fucking dangerous when he’s this bad,” Carl said, grabbing my hand. ‘It’s like he’s turning into Frank.”

I gulped, swallowing hard, before reaching over and kissing Carl on the cheek. I walked inside while he stayed out, trying to shake an uncomfortable feeling.

I want him to be okay Carl, I really fucking do.

 ////

 I forced myself to walk myself up the stairs alone, to stand outside his bedroom. Lip needed somebody to talk to, and at the moment he had nobody. He was too proud to get help.

I was about to knock, pausing outside of his door when I heard him talk. At first, I thought he was talking to himself and it took me a split second to realise he was on the phone. I paused, to listen in and what I heard shattered my heart.

“Hi, yeah it’s Phillip Gallagher. I’ve been trying to book an appointment and um- yeah yeah I know, yeah I know but I was wondering whether um I could pay part of my college bills off tomor-“

He paused, as if cut off, and sighed sounding completely and utterly defeated, his speech slurred a little.

“I’m behind yeah…No. No, it won’t be the full amount”

There was a longer silence.

“I know and I’ll keep making the payments,”

Lip was becoming frustrated I could tell and I could feel her slump against the other side of the door. Silently, I crouched down too, pushing my ear against the wood of the door.

“Yeah. No. And I know it’s unusual paying cash but…Yeah, I really appreciate your patience with me,”

I could vaguely make out the mumbling of the person on the line and readjusted myself so I could hear them more clearly.

“It’s uh Lip, I figure I’m going to talk to you a lot there’s no point you calling me by my full name,”

The other voice sounded older, crackly through the mobile phone but I guessed it was a college professor, a receptionist, councillor? Somebody to do with college.

 “Well, Lip, have you considered taking a semester off, working and saving your money. You could come back next semester with your financial paperwork in order and maybe have a little extra spending money in your pocket”

 Lip inhaled sharply and sniffed a little.

 “I-I won’t make it back. I..uh…” He was struggling I could tell, and I was sure he was on the verge of breaking.

He continued.

“My little brother Ian was diagnosed with bipolar…Uh…every day I’m not there I jus- I..uh feel so fucking guilty that I’m not here. Helping.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was spilling everything, Philip Gallagher, the most guarded private person I knew, spilling his life story to his college professor.

He was desperate.

Desperate and drunk.

“The reason I stay is…. I uh…I can’t help…No… ‘Cause, I spent my whole life trying to help my mom… um she, uh had the same disease… and there’s no help for it.”

 I swear to god I could feel him crumpling on the other side of that door and it took everything I had not to tear up myself.

 “Except for the little ones.” He said sharply, after clearing his throat.” Debbie and Carl and Liam, although they um, they’re not so little anymore. And then my sister Fiona… I could be there for them but I’m not.”

He words became more cutting, more accusing, self-deprecating.

“My brother, Carl, he’s just got out of juvenile prison… and… and there was nothing I could do to help him either. He, he doesn’t look at me the same anymore”

I felt a weird sinking feeling inside because I knew, I just knew.

Lip Gallagher was crying.

“You know, ‘cause I’m away, I’m away so much. ‘Cause I’m told that … that staying at school is something I could do for those kids. In-in in a big way, in a real way uh… Someday.”

He sniffed loudly and I heard him stand up, starting to pace back and forth around the room.

“So, I’m staying at college.”

It was definite, his voice was strong. But I heard him gulp, I heard him choke back tears.

 “But if I go back to the house, you uh… You know like I am now. Well then I’m in it. You know an-an-an-and I can’t get back out of it.”

 I jumped up myself, placing my palm flat against the door and cursing myself for being too much of a fucking coward to walk in there and hug him like he deserved to be hugged.

No wonder he fucking drunk with so much fucking pressure on his shoulders

 “I mean… I-uh I… and I mean the only reason why I’m home right now is because there’s this girl who means the world to um to uh-um me and the rest of us I mean she’s practically family and we love her, I love her. We all love her”

 I froze. He meant me, he fucking meant me.

 “And her parents are really shitty and they beat her… because she’s stuck in this shitty neighbourhood and um...  it wasn’t safe so, I-I-I need, I n-need to keep her safe.”

 He was missing college, his education ,his shot at life because he was back here. Because of me. I couldn’t stop tears from starting to form, letting them silently drip down my face.

 “But you know she’s with my brother,” His jaw locked and he swallowed loudly “…and I think she’s happy now I hope she’s happy so my job is um... kinda done… so um… “

 I was becoming more and more undone, a bigger and bigger blubbering mess but Lip snapped. In a split second I heard him pull himself together, building his mature and impenetrable persona back up, building up his wall, as if pretending he hadn’t just confessed his life story to a total stranger.

 “Yeah so I’m keep going to your headquarters and I’m going keep making these payments.”

He said and sniffed loudly

“…and I’m going to show up and count it out, note by fucking bank note… and you know then that’ll be my part and your part, I hope is um… patience.”

His voice cracked.

“Please!”

This was it for Lip, he was at his rawest. He was vulnerable, the person on the other side of the line was responsible for everything that was important to him and for once in his life Lip couldn’t be in control.

“Yeah, I just need um… fuck, I just need a little more time,”

 I guessed that the conversation pretty much ended there because Lip became silent, huffing loudly and I ran away to the bathroom before he could hear me sniffle guiltily.

 Lip’s P.O.V

There was a knock at my door, giving me a slight warning before it creaked open.

Carl was stood there, eyes sunken, tired, probably sick to fucking death of being surrounded by drunks.

That was why I was doing it.

College.

For him. For the rest of them.

He ran at me and I wrapped him in a hug.

Neither of us said anything, until I had to.

Until I could stay quiet anymore.

“Tell her.” I said “Tomorrow”

Carl nodded. “I will,” he said.

“I fucking mean it. I know why you need to do it, but she doesn’t.”

Carl nodded.

“Couldn’t have picked worse fucking timing Carl,” I said.

Carl nodded.

He walked back out of the room, about to shut the door on me when he stopped.

Hesitated.

“Y/N’s going to hate me forever isn’t she. For leaving.” He stopped as if he was admitting something to himself for the first time “I’m leaving her here for military school,”

[thedenfantasyleague]

The Den Fantasy League Weekly Recaps: 2020 Draft Recap

Gentlemen,

Welcome to a new year. Although this year may look different and come with plenty of unknowns, I’m looking forward to venturing into the chaos with you all. As we begin our fifth year, we’ve seen three champions in our first four seasons. We’ve seen plenty of chirping, gamesmanship, and some excuses but it’s been a great four years thus far and I’m excited about our newest season. With that being said let’s get into this year’s draft recap and to assist I used RotoTrade.com’s draft analysis to be unbiased in final analysis.

Draft Order:

The Perfect Ten

Hank Mardukas

11-4-1 PVO

Kalabar’s Revenge

Viking Quest

Team Timshel

Debbie Rowe

Virg. Gardening Minmaxers

Mr. Magorium

Wilmore Cinderella

Fire Jarn

Tua Days

The Perfect Ten

Our two-time champion started off the draft in the first overall spot. Ian normally prefers to be at the back of the draft to double up but this time he had the benefit of getting the first overall pick and the back-to-back picks starting at the end of the 2nd round. With his first pick, Ian took the easy number one in CMC, arguably the best player in the 2019 season. In Ian’s position (and those like him towards the beginning and end) he had to look out into the distance and make some moves on who may not be available at his next turn. With that, he picked up Mahomes with his second pick at the end of the second round. E’s team is riddled with players who may not have the splashy seasons all the time but could step up into some interesting roles. 

E’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Hank Mardukas

Scott was number two and had the easy pick of picking whomever Ian didn’t pick. In this case, it was Saquon who fell to Scott and the second pick. Saquon was again a top pick this year and hoping to bounce back after an injury plagued season last year. Like the bookends of the draft, Scott found himself with double picks and went with his two starting WRs in Godwin and Thielen. Scott made some interesting picks and continued to sure up his WRs in picking the intriguing Hollywood Brown after taking his QB in Dak. Scott eventually took a chance on the resurgence of Gronk, hoping he returns to his old self with his reunion with Tom in Tampa. It was good to see Scott at an inperson draft for potentially the first time in history. 

Scott’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

11-4-1 PVO

Dylan was nice enough to host us at his house for this years draft but for Dylan, some times home field advantage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Dylan had his whole set up ready, or as he called it, his War Room. After continuing the trend of getting the best available at the top of the board, Dylan took Zeke (although I’m not too sure he was crazy about it). From there he continued into the skill positions by taking two of the highest paid NFL players in Julio and Kittle. A few picks late came controversy. If you drafted live and weren’t in the room where it happens (a little Hamilton pun for ya there), Dylan had a snafu. Here’s the scene: Dylan is on the clock and talking about he can’t take AJ Green. Just on principle. He starts clicking frantically and, next thing you know, he’s taking AJ Green. Weird, right? Dylan claims he was clicking Jordan Howard. He’s adamant. As a commissioner to the people, we poll the in-house participants and with our quorum we decide to pause the draft. With said quorum a vote is taken (I abstain) and the vote was to allow Dylan to re-pick. Is it a conspiracy and/or controversial? Yes. I won’t address it further and my story will match any other who was on site. Back to the normal draft: Dylan had a steal in the 11th round by taking John Matthew Stafford. Happy for him. Is this the year Dylan turns it around?

Dylan’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Kalabar’s Revenge

After our draft we FaceTimed G to figure out why he was auto-drafting. We were greeted with Katie Mae at her 23rd birthday celebration (insert Blink-182 joke here). To her surprise we weren’t made, just disappointed as G tends to bring some good fun to the draft. Towards the end of the draft, G made an appearance in the chat and summaried his draft in the following manner, “I might do well this year since I didn’t make any of the picks” or something like that. He may have had a point. When we finally got G on the phone he was pretty drunk. So much so that he exposed himselfto the crew. Katie wasn’t a fan of that (at least in that moment…). As you can imagine, auto-drafting just goes best available and that’s what G got. His first pick was Dalvin then followed up with a slew of WRs in Devante, Evans, and Ridley. His auto-draft path eventually selected both Matt Ryan and Aaron Rodgers. Two aging QBs who could still have a lot of upside to them. There is always a risk when auto-drafting but it may have just paid off for G. After the draft he was given his chance to provide his one season long Kurse of the season. I’ll give you one guess as to who it was.

G’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Viking Quest

Have I mentioned how luck I am to be your Commish? It’s truly an honor. As for my draft, I was just happy to be there. Continuing the trend, I took the best available and went for Alvin Kamara. I know he’s in the middle of a contract dispute but I have no doubts he’ll be on the field and ready to roll for week one. The Saints are all in this year and I’m hoping their success will ride on his shoulders. My next pick was an interesting one. Too often I draft with my heart and not with my mind. Luckily on this one I was able to do both. Was Kelce the “best available” at that time? Not necessarily (he was in the mix) but why mess with a good thing? I’m happy for my guy after receiving his new contract and I know he’ll continue to produce as he always has. Surprisingly for me, this draft was very WR heavy, something I don’t normally do. However, you have to make do with what’s there at the value you’re taking it at and that’s what I tried to do. After Dylan picked Stafford before he could fall to me, I knew it was time to take a QB. Would I take Rodgers while he was still available? No. Absolutely not. In the words of Johnny Drama, the main character of Viking Quest, “it’s the principle”. I went with my heart and history. I am a Cam believer. Truth be told I listened to a podcast on Cam recently and again went with my heart. I believe in him and so should you. But hey, I’m just happy to be here. 

My draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Team Timshel

Our defending champ was back this year to defend his title in a very odd season. The champ wasted no time in mixing things up and throwing the whole draft for one participant (more on that later). Mike took his own path in the draft and opted to not take the best available being Michael Thomas but instead went with one of the hottest RBs at the end of last year: Derrick Henry. He then went another RB in the new Texan David Johnson followed by Amari, Ertz, and finally rounded out his fifth round by taking Russ Wilson at QB. Mike’s team has always been in contention and finally came to fruition last year and this year he is hoping to do the same. So much so that he’s bought in on the Titans having a successful year after taking three players Friday and now reportedly have signed Clowney. Mike’s hoping that success on the field can aid him in his quest to be our first repeat winner. 

Mike’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com

Debbie Rowe

The man looked up from his screen both confused and shocked. His whole plan had come crashing down. He would need to act fast or everything could fall apart. Sounds like a scene from a novel but this was real life for one Jake Taylor. As previously mentioned, Jake was shook after Mike picked Henry right before Jane. Jake had been doing research for days, all under the assumption he would have Henry there to take. It was so simple but then the moment came and it all came crashing down. Jake had to act fast and instead of picking Michael Thomas or even the next highest rated RB, he took a chance in the rookie: Clyde Edwards-Helaire. Jake then followed by taking Chris Carson, JuJu (USC Trojans, Fight On), his little Cooper Kupp, and his Bengal: Tyler Boyd. Jake then proceeded to take the player behind DraftJoshAllen.com in Josh Allen. Finally, he took one of the first kickers off the board: J-Tuck. Jake currently hates his team but sometimes that means we got the team we didn’t want but the team we actually needed the whole time.

Jake’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com

Virg. Gardening MinMaxers

Al took an interesting strategy for this year’s draft and I believe he participated via his phone when he was plugged in. Al started his team off very WR heavy by taking Thomas after his brief slide and taking Hopkins in the second round. If you would have told Al that in 2018 he’d have both Le’Veon and Gurley on his team in 2020 he would have been stoked but both of these backs haven’t had the past years we and they would have hoped for, leaving some questions for the 2020 season. In between of picking three QBs (Kyler, Brady, and Burrow) Al was able to snag AJ Green after the 11-4-1 PVO debacle. Like all teams, our current Cabana Boy has a team full of question marks but with a lot of potential. Can he get it done this year or be our first repeat Cabana Boy?

Al’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Mr. Magorium

Gabe is officially back to Mr. Magorium after last year’s GM change. If you recall, G started off horrendously after the initial week one Kurse from Kalabar. After week one, the Kurses continued for weeks on end until finally Gabe turned his team over to Remus Lupin to help fight the spirits. It paid off for him as he had an incredible second half run. Gabe reentered with an interesting first pick. Gabe passed on some other RBs to select Cincy’s own Joe Mixon. I wonder if Gabe will change his name to Mixon it Up? Following that pick, Gabe focused on his skill players by taking another RB in Aaron Jones then following with three straight WRs including OBJ, Woods, and Diggs. Gabe was eventually forced to take Drew Brees as his QB, something he wasn’t thrilled about. As Gabe surveyed his final draft results we reached out to Kalabar to see who his official Kurse of the Year went to and unfortunately for Gabe it falls on him. Will we see the same impact we saw last year or has Gabe figured out how to reflect said Kurses? Only time will tell. 

Gabe’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Wilmore Cinderella

“Yuck” - E Birch. That’s how Ian categorized JP’s predicament after seeing who would be falling into that #10 spot. Unfortunately for JP he felt the same way. There wasn’t much optimism going into the draft for JP and ended up picking Josh Jacobs over a slew of other RBs with his first round pick. He then continued by taking more skill positions like Ekeler, AJ Brown, Lockett, and finally the new TB Buc Fournette before selecting the newly paid Deshaun Watson to be his QB for the year. With his last pick he selected Scotty Miller or as he likes to call him “the new Julian Edelman”. JP’s team is interesting because he appears to have some talent that, if given the opportunity on their respective teams, could turn into valuable contributors to his team’s success for the year. Only time will tell if JP and Wilmore Cinderella can join E as the only two-time champs. 

JP’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Fire Jarn

I’m excited for Robbie to once again be in our league but I’m starting to get worried. Does he not care anymore? Should we be concerned? Should we look to replace him? Year after year we get an auto-draft and I’m just not sure if he wants to even be in the league. Rob, if you’re reading this it’s okay to opt out, we’ll still be your friends. For everyone else, if you’re reading this go ahead and drop a nice word to Robbie in the chat. He may need it. However, with Rob’s draft, the computer did him a lot of favors. The computer selected the popular Miles Sanders with his first pick and followed up by taking Tyreek A. Rob, Sutton, and Singletary to round out his skill players. The computer doing what the computer does took two QBs who seem to always be fighting off the injury bug: Wentz and Sloppy Roethelisberger. Finally, with their second to last pick Robbie’s computer team selected Matt Gay, a kicker who is recently unemployed. I really do want Robbie to have fun this year and find success but I’m just happy he’s our friend. Wouldn’t you agree?

Robbie’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com:

Tua Days

Our final pick from round one and our first pick in round two had an interesting draft time as it coincided with the Heat game. Vinny’s official post-draft statement was: Did the Heat distract my draft process? Yes. Will it hinder my teams performance? ABSOLUTELY NOT. On my name sake My team will work twice as hard to grind every week except week 8. Speaking of the Heat, they choked in game four. Sad to see. Vinny started his draft by taking Chubb with his first pick followed up by his beloved Kenyan Drake. Vinny then took the second QB off the board by taking Lamar at the end of the third round. He then took his fellow Raven in TE Mark Andrews and then his very own Dolphin in Parker. I’m not sure if Vinny drifted back to auto-draft as he ended up with two defenses but if it was intentional I’m sure he has a reason that makes zero sense. Either way, we’ll find out this season if you should never draft distracted. Heat in five. 

Vinny’s draft grade from RotoTrade.com

That is this year’s draft recap. Games start Thursday and I’m looking forward to getting some sort of normalcy back in our lives. As always, set your lineups accordingly.

Your beloved Commissioner,

Jared R. Mosqueda

[sienna27]

Sorry this is a bit long, kept thinking of other points.

I am going to step into something going on here in the fandom that I could very easily just ignore.  But I’m not going to :)   And if you opt to read the below, please try to read it with an open mind, and take the points I’m ‘attempting’ to make as maybe a fresh spin on what’s been going on the last few months.  But if in the end some folks get offended, like I’m taking a shot at them personally and end up unfollowing me, or blocking me, I understand.  That’s cool, we all get to personalize our experience on here and if I’m annoying you, then of course you’ll want to remove me from your life :)  But please know that it’s not at all my intention to irritate anyone, or talk down to anyone, because I’ve already blocked the folks that I think are the main problems here, so this is just kind of a general plea to outline what I think is going on, and what I think that maybe some of the rest of us could do to take a bit of the internal negativity we keep seeing, out of the ship fandom.

So what was that preamble all about?  Well, my pure exhaustion with the pages in the ship fandom so regularly, and suddenly, being filled with hate towards random members of the cast/crew because somebody made an offhand remark, joke, or flippant remark about ‘the ship,’ or a ‘member’ of it.  I think we’re up to maybe five people now with a scarlet letter.  And I’m going to expand my thoughts below on this because it just keeps on happening, and it is making me SOOOO weary, because the drama is impossible to ignore even when you stay off the C tag.  And I know I’m not the only one who is tired of it, because I’ve heard from other people who have said they’ve reluctantly unfollowed some blogs they used to like because of all the rants/hate posts popping up.  To that, the below:

First, has anybody else noticed that these things always start with hate filled rants, but no links.  Like, let’s pick somebody who is still ‘pristine,’ (at least as far as I know), Andy.  So I’m going to put up a post right now and say that “I can’t believe Andy said those horrible, shitty insulting things about M.  He’s such a douchebag and I can’t believe I ever thought he was a good guy and he clearly isn’t really her friend if he could say that kind of crap!”

Now, what’s your initial, IMMEDIATE, reaction to this?  Confusion and upset, right?  First confused because I didn’t tell you EXACTLY what Andy allegedly said, and upset because you always had the impression that Andy was a good guy and now you’re starting to feel kind of a discomfort in your gut thinking that he isn’t and will you still be able to enjoy watching him play Rick who is like you third favorite character if it turns out that all along Andy has been a secretly scuzzy person.  Those are all normal, expected reactions.   Because they’re coming from your gut.  But think about them for a second.  What proof has this person provided to say that Andy is a scumbag?  None.  Because NOBODY EVER LINKS TO THESE INTERVIEWS.  At least none of the ones that I ever see.  All I see are these random, ‘this person sucks’ posts, with no linked ‘evidence’ of said suckage and a whole crapload of notes on these posts with half of the readers reblogging and saying, “God what an asshole!” and the other half just answering, “wait, what happened?  What did he say?  Can somebody please put a link here so I can see exactly what happened?”  And the response to that request is usually . . . silence.  Eventually somebody figures out, or finds out from somebody off the thread, what is being referred to, and puts a link.  But that should be the FIRST thing we’re putting out there.  If I’m saying that Andy is a total fuckwad, I should be backing that shit up with a “LOOK HERE AND SEE FOR YOURSELF . . .”   but it’s like nobody who starts this stuff wants you to see (think) for yourself.  Because by the time that link exists on one of these reblogs for everyone else to read, or listen to, for themselves, the impression of this famous person’s remarks (and the person himself) is already ‘tainted.’  Because nobody now is going into reading that article, or listening to that clip, as a blank slate, they’re going into it with a negative impression of this actor because we have been told he did/said something terrible.  We are now subconsciously, ‘predisposed’ to interpret their behavior with that slant.  And that’s even assuming that everyone takes the time, or has the time, to look into things for themselves.  So basically what this initial Tumblr person ranted about (with no screenshots of the FULL article, or clips of the FULL interviews) could have actually been a joke, or a tired, flippant remark after ten hours of interviews, or four words taken out of context, or an ironic statement or a sarcastic response to the general tone of an interview question.  And now what’s been put out for everyone to read is, “THIS GUY IS A DICK!!!!” and it doesn’t matter what the truth of things may have been, we’ve all already been ‘infected’ with this dark take, on a previously neutral person’s, character.  Basically to paraphrase a much more famous quote, “the rant has traveled half way around the world while the truth was still putting on its shoes.” So all I’m saying is, please don’t take other people’s unsubstantiated impressions of a situation, as gospel.  Put on your critical thinking skills when you come across this kind of stuff because a lot of times when I dig into something myself, what has been spread all through the fandom as the alleged ‘misogyny’ ‘ageism’ ‘total fuck you to M,’ started with one or two people taking a Grand Canyon leap and getting offended at something they perceived, and then putting their ‘offense’ out into the world like it was unequivocal truth, to get a whole bunch of other people riled up.  Basically it’s a game of God damn telephone, and it’s ridiculous that it keeps running unchecked.  

Now second to that, half the time these rants about slights against M are followed up by saying how this ‘constant’ sexism/racism/ageism/ etc., is A) more evidence for Team B or D, or ABC to say X,Y,Z about our ship’s relationship.  Like, I’m sorry, why do we give a flying fuck what any of those other people think?  Not being a jerk, just saying, seriously, why would any of us care what other strangers think about our views on a FAKE RELATIONSHIP?  I mean, step back and think, how silly is that?   Those people are entitled to their world views, and if someone in one of those groups is being a douche and deliberately inserting themselves into our tags saying nasty shit, block them or turn off the Anon feature.  Because really, letting these people send you Anon ship hate, or letting them continue to show up on your feed when a simple click makes them go away, is just masochistic.  You’re ruining your own enjoyment on Tumblr.   So that all goes for the opposition, now here’s B, the ‘Debbie Downers’ within!  And you all know who they are, it is obvious there are a few people around the fandom who seem to make a living off taking offense at everything and anything they come across.   I’m guessing they are just super negative people in real life who always presume the worst of every person in every situation.  And they are such a teeny little percentage of the generally nice folks around here (and I try to block the Debbie Downers when I come across them) but they speak loudly, and their CONSTANT negativity, infects so many of the rest of us.  Because no joke, the only place I consistently see M getting insulted, are by those people here who claim to be huge fans of hers, that like to spread those insults over and over through the fandom to say how horrible it is that all of these other people have allegedly said these things about her.  That’s like if one random person calls my mom a “fat, ugly, piece of shit,” and then I tell everyone that I ever meet after that how so and so has called my mom a “fat, ugly, piece of shit.”  Nobody else would ever know that had happened if I didn’t feel the need to regularly repeat those insults under the guise of ‘defending’ my mother and hashtag feminism and all this other crap.  How about you just don’t repeat that shit?  I mean, what’s the point, honestly?  Ninety percent of the time it’s coming from somebody who is just trolling to get a rise out of you, so why would you let them have the satisfaction?  And even if it’s not a troll, and just someone who is simply an asshole and believes they will be young and pretty forever, then we’re back to, why do you care?  It’s the Internet, people are dicks.  Block them and move on with your life.  There is zero upside to engaging or repeating their comments.   And the third option/scenario, is the one I already mentioned in the above, those chosen few regularly looking to be offended by the remarks of people known generally to be people M considers close friends and ‘family.’   Now let’s think about that one for a second.  These people are not our friends.  We don’t know them.  These are folks who all work months on end, sixteen plus hour days where they forged actual REAL LIFE relationships.  No matter how amazing we might find a particular actress, we are not in her life.  We are not in a place to police, or determine who her “real” friends are.  We don’t know ANYTHING about the personal relationships these people have with one another.  So it is just not “appropriate” for us to go around calling her friends douchebags, shitheads, whatever, because somebody else ‘decided’ that her real life friend was taking a public shot at her age and looks (because that’s clearly the logical inference of something her friends would do *eye roll) and be offended on her behalf because she deserves to have better people in her life!  And you might be thinking right now, well who the fuck are you sienna to be telling us what WE should be offended about?   Fair enough :)  I’m a nobody too.  I’m a nobody to her, and I’m a nobody to you.   Again, all I’m saying is, a lot of this is drama is so obviously for the of sake of itself.  People who like attention, and aren’t happy unless they’re stirring shit up.  So really, just consider the source of a comment.  If a comment is coming from someone that M has posted happy, cuddly selfies with that person PROBABLY should be given all benefit of all doubts that no cruelty or ill intent was behind, said random fuzzily sourced comment that nobody wants to show you proof was actually said.

Lastly, all of the people who jump in here and start these rants under the guise of defending M’s honor, how do you think M would feel to hear all of the shit that gets spoken about people like N, and so on, and so forth.  Do you think that any of us predicating our remarks by saying “I’m a huge fan of hers and she’s so amazing that she deserves to have amazing people in her life,” would ‘endear’ our remarks to her?  No!  Because if it was you, in real life, who heard some random stranger talking shit about your friend that you have silly inside jokes with, and who listens when you had a fight with your boyfriend, or gives you a hug when you’re sad, and maybe spends holidays and birthdays with you because you’re all so far away from your families that these people ARE your adoptive family, would you be okay with this person you care about being torn apart and called every d’bag name in the book?  No, you would be thinking, ‘fuck you, who the hell do you think you are to say those things?  You don’t KNOW anything about him!’  Time and again celebrities drop off of social media because their “fanbase” starts harassing and attacking a new girlfriend or a new boyfriend because, quote, “they can do better.”  To vilify M’s real world friends like we know best for her, is NO different than any of that dumb crap that happens with the boy bands when one of them dares to get a girl.  So this is my point, (again not to be all Lecture Girl, just raising alternative points to ponder here) just please when this crap starts rolling through, step back and consider whether or not your gut is getting manipulated by the Drama for the Sake of Itself Folks, but also consider real empathy for the people being maligned in these situations.  Like this new crap with “J.”  Considering that I read an article with him from December (Linked here :)) where he talks about how pissed off he is that AM got all that shit online for her looks and weight after the baby, and that the cyber bullies are assholes, would he really be taking shots at the looks of ANOTHER female costar/friend?  Especially when he states himself that he usually uses self deprecating humor to deflect the assholes from taking shots at his appearance, by taking shots at himself first and he hates that he has to do that because the cyber bullies should stop being dicks and calling out other people’s appearances.  Does this REALLY sound like a mean spirited, jerky, woman hating, two faced type guy?  Maybe what he said was an awkward joke.  Maybe he was tired.  Or maybe he was just saying something deadpan as a way to diffuse the tension (or stupidity) that other people build up around a romantic situation involving a woman with, ‘grey hair.’  

And I am done here now.  I don’t want to debate this point with anyone.  I don’t care enough about a fake TV relationship to engage in a real world fight :) If you took offense at my words, again, sorry, not my intent, but if that happened, let us part ways here with a block and you’ll never have to hear from me on any subject again :)  I only stepped into this because it feels like, (to me) that there is a certain amount of, if not bullying (because I feel like that term is very much overused to describe any sort of commentary someone doesn’t agree with) but let’s say, “aggressive” conversation on these points.  Like if you don’t agree with X person’s take who started the fray, then you’re going to get a hard earful about how this person’s take on the world is right, and your take is wrong, and that’s all there is to it.  And those kind of tones can make some people ‘cow away’ from speaking up again because they don’t feel comfortable really speaking for an alternate viewpoint.   And like I said to start, I know it’s not just me who is feeling like the CONSTANT internal negativity from certain people about any and every perceived slight to M is just exhausting.  I’m not going to end here with Suzy Sunshine quote, but just you know let’s try and remember the that the actors in our ship are arguably the most popular, and unarguably the most talented.  Neither of them is likely to be killed off before the last season, if even then.  So in the meantime, the ship looks like it’s about to sail.  Let’s just try to enjoy what’s coming next without mucking up the waters for ourselves.   We don’t need to be our own worst enemies.  That’s what Gimple is for :)

And I shall leave you with..

[artsoccupychi]

How To Break Your Sugar Addiction in Four Days

On the GreenSmoothieGirl lecture tour of 450 U.S. cities, I was asked this, over and over:

How do I break my sugar addiction?

And I suspect that far more of us want to ask this question, relative to the few brave enough to say it out loud.

Because we all have Shame about our food addictions.

Shame Feeds Sugar Addiction

The most toxic and negatively charged human emotion is Shame.

Why am I capitalizing it? Because we have a lot of it, wrapped around the foods we vow, in the morning, to quit forever—the same food we secretly stuff in our mouths, in the afternoon and evening.

You’ve likely heard the story before about the dopamine cycle created by addictive foods.

So I’ll spare you. Knowing that you’re in the grip of a chemical, every day, every week, every year—doesn’t really help.

You’re also aware of the way sugar puts inches on your belly, causes your energy crash right when you need to productivity–and puts you at risk for cancer.

And blah, blah, blah.

It’s the Shame I’m more concerned about. Let’s just own it, shall we?

(If we don’t have a sugar addiction, we have a salt addiction. Some of us are unlucky enough to be obsessed with both sugary and salty.)

Both kinds of junk food come with high risks to our health—and even though we know all that, we’ve got a bag of Peanut M&M’s in the bottom drawer at work, or a box of powdered-sugar mini-donuts in our underwear drawer at home.

Where we put them says it all. They’re hidden. More often than not, we eat our sugary junk food when no one’s looking.

And as if the toxic food isn’t bad enough, then we emotionally beat ourselves up about it.

“I’m so self disciplined about other things—I work out, I have a successful career, I got a master’s degree, for crying out loud—why does sugar own me?”

And the self-loathing keeps the cycle going, with the Shame driving the sugar bingeing underground.

And we wake up the next morning, vowing to do better.

Break Your Sugar Addiction: My Sugar Bet

Several years ago, my dear friend Matthew Flinders and I took on a one-year Sugar Bet. It was a vow of sugar celibacy.

If one of us failed, we owed $10,000 to the other.

Before I tell you the outcome, I’ll share my ugly, humiliating moment–then later, I’ll share his.

(And ask his forgiveness after this post is published. Or just hope he doesn’t read it.)

We jointly set some rules that naturally sweet foods, like fruits, were legal.

But no birthday cake, donuts at the office, soda, no chemical sweeteners (like what’s in diet soda) were allowed—not even ketchup.

(Yep, ketchup is chock full of the worst kind of sugar, corn syrup.)

Six months into my year, feeling great, I was in Hawaii on a lecture tour, and my friend, Debbie, and I were doing a little window shopping in town. We stopped for lunch and both had a salad.

Then, the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, and Debbie ordered a brownie with hot fudge and ice cream. I declined, and had a moment of panic.

Here’s the problem: the only temptation trigger worse than a brownie, for this girl—is a brownie with hot fudge and vanilla ice cream.

My instinct told me to run. Debbie wouldn’t have minded. But my ego said, “Nah, you got this.”

As she began eating her dessert, Debbie, who had momentarily forgotten my vow, asked me if I wanted a bite.

A strange thing happened in my mind. This Big Fat Lie seemed completely rational, for as long as it took for me to grab a spoon:

“We’re in Hawaii. Coconuts are fruit. I mean, that’s probably coconut ice cream right there, right? The brownie could be sweetened with coconut sugar…which is kind of like fruit. I mean, I don’t know they AREN’T, so…I could plead ignorant?”

I picked up the extra spoon on the side of the plate, and took one delicious, gooey bite.

A sick feeling settled over me felt like a faraway memory I couldn’t quite place.

The next morning, I went for a run on the beach, and my guilt (and the panic that I really owed Matthew $10,000) swallowed me—unavoidable now–and I actually started crying, while I ran. To be honest, my shame, guilt, and dread at the conversation I had to have, when I got home, ruined the rest of my trip.

I realized that the déjà vu I had as I ate that one illegal bite reminded me of when I was five years old, and put a roll of Lifesavers in my pocket, shopping at a department store with my Dad.

In the car, I tried to eat one, but my guilty feelings wouldn’t let me swallow, and I literally choked, as the candy dissolved in my mouth.

My dad finally asked me what was wrong with me, why my face was red and I couldn’t speak, and was coughing.

And the confession came out, with a flood of tears. My dad took me into the store, to confess to the manager.

Now, at 42 years old, I had no excuse. I went home and gave Matthew $1,000 in cash, and asked him for mercy.

I asked him: Is there was any way I could continue the contest, giving him 10% of the big money I really owed, and I’ll pay the rest if I messed up again?

Days later, he came over to my house, told me he agreed to “mercy” me, and tried to give me the cash back. I refused to take it.

I was grateful for the do-over, and I won’t defend that I talked my way back into the bet. I really wanted to finish. And save face.

(I know, I suck. Followers of my blog told me so. You can comment and tell me so, AGAIN, if you want to. But that’s the story. That’s what happened.)

The year ended, both of us successful, and I was pretty proud. By that point in my life, I was a certifiable “health nut,” but my sugar addiction had dogged me since my earliest memory.

(After all, I was stealing Life Savers at five.)

The night after our bet ended, Matthew showed up on my porch to pick me up for Zumba. And showed me the four King Sized candy bar wrappers he had just eaten.

We’ve had a lot of laughs about that year, and the videos we made periodically, which are probably still on YouTube.

An interesting thing happened during those 12 months.

I can’t say I don’t ever eat sugar. Sometimes I do. But not very often. I can go days, and weeks, without it—and I don’t overdo, any more.

That year taught me that life is still sweet, without rewarding myself constantly with sugar.

But it doesn’t have to take you a year, or even a month to break your sugar addiction. You can beat a sugar addiction in as little as four days.

A Four-Day Sugar Challenge Even Kids Can Do

My children’s book, The Adventures of Junk Food Dude, is a story about two kids who come from very different homes. I’d like to read you a few pages.

The Green Smoothie Guy is an athlete, in 2nd grade, and is raised eating greens, vegetables, fruits—all the good stuff.

Junk Food Dude (whose real name is revealed later in the story) is his classmate who faces an all-too-common self-esteem-wrecker: childhood obesity.

This is the story of one-third of America’s children now.

But, while Junk Food Dude is routinely picked last for dodge ball, Green Smoothie Guy is kind, befriends him, and invites him to walk home with him after school.

They make some snacks, and Green Smoothie Guy proposes something interesting.

In this video, which you’re welcome to share with your kids, I read a few pages of the book, that explain a very hopeful and true principle.

Your body doesn’t actually want to be addicted to chemical substances. (Sugar resembles a chemical in every way, and evokes the same cascade of responses from the human body.)

And, when given a period of time as short as four days, sugar loses its chokehold.

On my lecture tour, I talked to many people who have never, in their lives, gone four whole days without processed sugar. I used to ask for a show of hands. And many had never done that.

But when I challenge you to ditch it for four days—remember, My Name is Robyn and I’m a Sugar Addict—you may be completely astonished that, for the first time in your life, you simply do not crave it, after that four days.

What You Can Expect When You Go Off Sugar

It’s a simple science experiment that will prove something interesting to you. And that is, you are stronger than you think.

You are actually innately drawn to the colors, textures, and flavors of real food. That is your genetic programming, and those natural, whole foods are what your ancestors ate for thousands of years.

You can’t discover this UNLESS you quit sugar for four days. (And I know you can. The first four days were much, much harder than the subsequent 361. Well, except that one day in Hawaii.)

But…it’s just four days.

Choose the days of the week you face the fewest temptations, and plan ahead with delicious, flavorful whole-food meals that will fill you and satisfy your taste buds.

Now, if you don’t find the sugar cravings completely disappearing after four days?

Whatever you do, don’t let Shame grab you by the throat. It serves no one. Behaviors driven underground flourish in the darkness. Say no to shame!

You’re no different from me—and I make a living telling people how to eat healthy.

Sugar is more addictive than crack cocaine. Multiple studies have proven it.

It takes some people a little bit longer, if they have candida yeast overgrowth, or they eat higher than average amounts of sugar, or soda.

Sugar is more addictive than crack cocaine. Multiple studies have proven it.

But it’s actually quite amazing what four days off the “nice girl’s crack” will do, for your confidence level that, in fact, sugar does not own you, and you CAN break your sugar addiction.

So, take a listen to a few pages of a children’s book, and see if you’re up for the challenge. You’ve got this. Let me know how it went. I’m rooting for you.

— Robyn Openshaw, MSW, is a single mom of four salad-eating, adulting kids, and the author of The Adventures of Junk Food Dude, and Junk Food Dude’s Yummy Healthy Recipes, a great gift set (discounted when you get both books) for a cool kid you know. And hey, use FIVEOFF for a second discount!

Or, she has a FREE video masterclass you can sign up for here, to learn how she got herself, and her kids, off the Standard American Diet, to lose 70 pounds and ditch 21 diagnosed diseases.

  Disclosure: This post may contain Affiliate links that help support the GSG mission without costing you extra. I recommend only companies and products that I use myself.

[Read More ...] https://greensmoothiegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/shutterstock_343010522.jpg https://greensmoothiegirl.com/break-your-sugar-addiction/

[euro3plast-fr]

How to protect your online image

Why you need a plan to defend and improve your online reputation

In an online world of viral news articles and social media, your brand’s image is something that can quickly be affected by even the slightest misstep. That’s why protecting your brand’s reputation is more important than you’ll ever realize.

The Significance of Your Online Image

It’s easy for us to forget that the internet is still a relatively new business channel. When we look back on the history of the internet in 25 or 30 years, 2017 will still look very much like the Wild West. Rules are still being developed, concepts are just now being understood, and what works isn’t always clear.

But when you cut through all of the unknowns, it doesn’t take an advanced degree to recognize the importance of maintaining a strong online image. Information spreads fast online and you have to keep up.

The internet gives everyone a voice. Suddenly, anyone from anywhere can share their thoughts and opinions in highly visible places. This is great news for businesses that promote positive interactions with customers and do an effective job of satisfying their needs. But it can also be perilous and damaging for businesses that slip up and make mistakes with customers. The fact that anyone can post anything at any time is most definitely a double-edged sword.

Download Expert Member resource – Digital Branding Guide

This new guide by Debbie Inglis offers a detailed, 7 steps strategy to enhancing digital brands, aimed at FMCG brands or those who need to understand core branding concepts.

Access the Digital Branding Guide

When you hear the word reputation, what comes to mind? Most people think about how individual people are viewed by those around them. And while we, as individuals, each have our own reputations, brands possess them too. In today’s business landscape, a brand’s reputation is often determined by its online image. Just consider the following statistics as presented by Reputation X:

Businesses with mostly one-star and two-star reviews fail to convert roughly 90 percent of prospective customers online.

92 percent of American consumers read online reviews to learn more about businesses.

When it comes to conducting research on a brand, 65 percent of global customers trust search engines the most.

Each of these statistics proves the importance of a brand’s online image and how easily your company’s reputation can be influenced. If you aren’t paying attention to your brand’s online reputation, then you’re missing out on a massive opportunity to strengthen your relationships with customers and drive real results.

Six Ways to Protect Your Image

When most companies think about the idea of online image/reputation management, they take a reactive approach that’s designed to identify isolated issues and combat them before they become major problems. And while there is a time and a place for this – we’ll discuss a couple of situations in this article – a primarily reactive approach is not the way to go. Protecting your image and building a strong reputation requires that you take a proactive stance. Keeping that in mind, here’s an approach that properly balances both reactive and proactive steps.

1. Set Up Google Alerts

Knowledge is great, but having a tool that perfectly fits the task at hand is even better. And when it comes to keeping tabs on your brand’s online image, Google Alerts is the best tool around. It allows you to set up alerts that notify you when somebody mentions your brand – good or bad. You can even use it to study your competitors and keep up to date on what’s happening in your industry.

As a Google product, it comes as no surprise that the tool is incredibly intuitive. All you have to do is enter keywords that you’re interested in, set your alert options, and establish filters for how often you’d like to get alerts. There is one downside to Google Alerts currently – that you can’t conduct social listening. Thankfully, there are other tools for this task and we’ll discuss them in further detail in the next section.

“Google Alerts is one of the quickest and easiest tools you can use to track mentions and alerts. It’s also 100% free, which is another reason it’s a great first stop,” SEO professional Colin Newcomer says. “Just make sure you don’t overwhelm yourself with alerts. Too much information can be just as bad as no information. If you find yourself skipping alerts because you don’t have enough time, it may be time to pare down your keywords.”

2. Become a Social Listener

Ancient proverbs often discuss the merit in being slow to speak and quick to listen. Unfortunately, this is a lost art in today’s world. It’s especially become overlooked in the realm of social media where users are constantly fighting to be first. From customers and brands to reporters and news outlets, everyone has the need to say something first. What few realize is that this approach leaves very little time to listen. And as philosophers of the past and present share, the ear is much more valuable than the tongue.

You can protect your brand’s online image more through listening than you can through speaking (i.e. posting). Just as you set up Google Alerts for your brand, you should follow the lead of successful brands and create a plan for social listening.

With social listening, there are dozens of powerful tools. The key is to find the one that fits your needs. Some of the top choices include Hootsuite, Buzzsumo, Brandwatch, and Keyhole.

3. Launch a Content Strategy

The best way to proactively strengthen your online reputation in today’s market is to invest in authoritative content. The internet runs on content and you can’t afford to rely on what others are saying about you. Take things into your own hands by making blogging a priority.

With a content strategy, you can address problems as they emerge, build content around your brand’s values, and directly engage customers, without the need for a middleman or third party channel. It’s taking your reputation into your own hands.

4. Carefully Monitor Feedback

“One of the best ways to maintain a positive reputation online is to be proactive about customer service and responding to reviews and other online feedback,” says Wisconsin Media. “According to a survey by Edison Research, when contacting a company for support through social media, 42% of consumers expect a response within 60 minutes. The fast-paced and public nature of social media requires companies not only to respond quickly but also to resolve the customer’s concerns effectively.”

In other words, you aren’t just listening to what your customers are saying. In order to strengthen your reputation, you have to listen and engage/respond. It can take a lot of time and effort to fully invest in monitoring social media, but you’ll gain perspective when you view it as an extension of your larger customer service strategy.

5. Let Reviews Guide Anticipatory Decision Making

If you’re in a big industry, then there are probably dozens of websites on the internet that allow customers to post reviews about your products and services. Anywhere your products are sold, there’s most likely some sort of feedback feature for customers. There are also sites solely dedicated to rating companies in your niche and you may be surprised to learn that your brand is included.

While the positive reviews are great, many brands avoid checking their online reviews because they’re fearful of the negative ones. Don’t shy away from reviews, though. Positive or negative, they contain valuable nuggets of information that can be used to guide your future decision making.

When you see themes in reviews – such as slow delivery times or fantastic email support – use these insights to improve the value you pass on to your customers moving forward. This is essentially free consumer data so don’t let it go to waste.

6. Find a Partner

If you find your brand’s reputation in the proverbial dumps, then you may need a little help digging your way out. The good news is that there are a lot of professionals and companies that specialize in online reputation management and brand building. Consider aligning yourself with one of these resources for a few months to get back on track. Then, using the valuable principles you’ve learned, you can regain control in the future.

The key is to find a partner that’s worth the investment. The reputation management industry is largely unregulated and there are plenty of bogus companies out there. Do your due diligence and find one that lives up to their claims.

Prioritize Your Reputation With Proactive Efforts

Your brand’s online reputation need to be a bigger priority in 2017. As more and more customers proactively seek out brands online and form opinions based on the information they find, you also need to become more proactive in your approach.

The good news is that it’s pretty easy to get started. There are dozens of small things you can do this week to get your brand’s online image pointed in the right direction. Once you get these issues squared away, you can turn your attention towards the bigger strategic goals and work on strengthening your reputation from the inside out.

  Thanks to Anna for sharing their advice and opinions in this post. Anna is a freelance writer, researcher, and business consultant. A columnist for Entrepreneur.com, HuffingtonPost.com and more, Anna specializes in entrepreneurship, technology, and social media trends. Follow her on Twitter and LinkedIn.

from Blog – Smart Insights http://www.smartinsights.com/online-brand-strategy/brand-development/protect-online-image/

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 3

Word count: 2201

A frown covers my face as I wake up with confusion. I was having such a great dream, why did I wake up? Another kick to my thigh answers my question and I look to see Clayton curled up on his side of the bed, his left leg the only limb to be far away from his body.

And it’s digging into my thigh. I groan at the predicament, covering my eyes to help me wake up more calmly, then uncover my eyes to look back over at Clayton.

I will admit, he is a good looking sleeper. His jaw is dropped open slightly but no drool is coming out- it just looks like he’s in a little bit of shock. His eyelids are closed peacefully and apparently I didn’t notice that he fell asleep without a shirt last night. I admire his torso for a while before the sun begins to rise, streaming through Clayton’s sheer blinds into his bedroom. The orange light lands on his calm body, portraying him as some kind of angel.

Yeah, well, I bet an angel wouldn’t pay a girl for sex.

I reluctantly reach for my phone, see that it’s six o’clock and figure out that I should leave if I really want to make it to my morning class. I think about skipping it. I really think about skipping it, especially after sneaking another glance at Clayton’s naked upper half.

The bed frame creaks quietly as I step out of it. I clench my teeth in anxiety, looking back at Clayton’s still body and sighing in relief when I realize that he’s still out. I pull on the clothes that I came here in, making sure to grab my phone and wallet before heading towards the bedroom door.

But something stops me. I don’t know what it is but I feel myself being drawn back towards Clayton, where I brush back his shaggy brown hair to plant a soft kiss on his forehead.

Then I leave. I want to take care of myself before I have to spend all day listening to my teachers go on and on about wars and the periodic table so I go for a jog, shower, and eat before driving over to campus. I barely make it to class on time but I do make it.

Somehow I make it through a full day of lectures and instead of going out with my friends for a drink like they beg me too, I decide to go home and sneak in a nap before I make myself some dinner.

I’m just about an hour into the nap I’ve been dreaming about all day when I wake up to the sound of a vibration.The sleepiness begins to fade as I locate my phone on my nightstand. I groan, reaching over to grab it. “What?”

“Well hello to you too,” a mocking voice calls through the phone.

“Oh my god, Clayton, I was sleeping.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me,” he requests.

I pause. “Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.”

“Clayton it’s already,” I look over at the clock, “Eight o’clock and my bra is off and my bed is warm and-””Fine, then lunch tomorrow,” he decides.

I let out a loud groan. I don’t have anything going on tomorrow, my class was cancelled and I don’t have a job or any plans with my friends. But I was looking forward to staying at home the whole day watching movies…

“Rule four.”

And that does it. I guess I have to obey him, right? “Fine.”

“Send me your address, I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

“Make it noon?” I try to convince him.

“See you at eleven, Y/N.” Then he hangs up.

~

Clayton: I’m here

Y/N: I’m not ready yet, I’ll buzz you in. Front door’s unlocked, I’m in apartment 401.

I click the buzzer and wait until I think he’s gotten in before walking back into my bathroom, picking up my eyeshadow to make it look perfect.

“Y/N?” His familiar voice calls out after the front door creaks open.

“In here,” I holler back. I hear him walk down the hallway and see his silhouette standing in my door frame but don’t look away from my task, giving it all of my concentration.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous.” I put the eyeshadow brush down and look up to see him leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets, casually watching me with a smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes at him but don’t respond, finishing up with my lipstick. “I just need to choose my shoes. Where are we going, somewhere fancy or casual?”

“What? Why would that matter?” He questions as he follows me to my closet.

“Well if we’re going somewhere fancy I’m wearing my wedges, if we’re going somewhere casual I’m wearing my Converse. Where are we going?”

“Why would I know that?”

“Well didn’t you choose the restaurant?” I give him a ‘duh’ look.

“Yeah but it’s not like I notice those things,” he defends himself.

I sigh, looking him up and down to see what he’s wearing. Some tan shorts and a patterned, short sleeve, button up. Guess I’ll wear my wedges. Clayton tries to make small talk with me as we walk towards the elevator, and when we step in I almost gag at the sight of who’s already here.

“Hi, Y/N,” Debbie gives me another fake smile and a look of judgement to Clayton. “Is this your new friend?”

“Sure, you can say that,” I give her a knowing look and she suddenly gets uncomfortable. Good.

The elevator is tense as we go down and I’m just waiting for her to mention something about my rent money. She brings it up just as we’re stepping out. “Oh, and by the way, we’re still expecting your money for rent-””I’ll give it to you soon, Debbie. Bye bye.”

And I pull Clayton away before she can respond.

“Who is that?” Clayton asks, laughing at my annoyance. Great, just what you want in a partner, someone who finds joy in your pain. Not like we’re dating or anything…

“My dumbass landlord,” I grumble. “Where’s your car?”

“Right here,” he motions towards the luxury vehicle in front of us.

I raise my eyebrows, not wanting to show him that I’m impressed but on the inside I’m feeling it. I know that he’s watching me for a reaction so I do my best to mask my face. “Are you going to open the door for me?”

He steps forward, pulling open the passenger side door and holding out his hand for me to balance on as I step inside the car. He leans in, hovering over my body with his. I can feel the heat radiating off of him and all I want him to do right now is to press his body against mine and bang in the backseat of his car.

“You’re a tough cookie, aren’t you?” And before I can respond he’s closed my door.

~

“Wine?” The waitress asks, looking between me and Clayton.

Clayton gives me an expectant look and I shake my head, so the waitress walks away to put our orders in.

“No wine?” Clayton asks in confusion.

“I’m not really a drinker,” I smirk, taking a sip of my water. He gives me an amused look, obviously remembering me ditching him for drinks.

“You expect me to believe that?” “Fine.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not really a day drinker.”

He laughs and we make small talk as time goes on. I can tell he’s trying to learn more about me since he asks questions about my family and where I grew up, but I try to keep my answers to a minimum. I don’t know how long this will last and I really only want to see this as a business transaction, no matter how hot Clayton may be, and I know the moment I start telling him about my family pets that I’m gone.

The waitress comes back with our meals and we eat in silence, admiring the taste of our foods and the nice weather this afternoon.

“It’s only been an hour,” I say once I check my phone.

“Really?” His eyebrows furrow, causing a cute dent in his forehead. “Guess I have to plan something else to take up your time.”

“You wanna take me to get my nails done?”

He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Let me see your shoes.”

I stick out my foot, showing him my wedge that’s worn out at the toe by how often I stumble.

“Yep, we’ll do that,” he confirms as he waves to the waitress for the check.

“What?”

“Let’s go shopping.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You want to go shopping? With me?”

“It’ll be a nice thank you for the other night,” he sends me a cheeky smile.

“Then let’s do it, Keller.”

~

I laugh loudly, attracting some attention from fellow shoppers. Clayton gives me a weird look at my laugh and I give him a look.

“You can’t be serious, Clayton.”

“I am,” he emphasizes.

“I seriously doubt that you don’t have a limit of what you’ll spend on me,” I challenge him.

“Why would you doubt me?” He questions instead.

“Clayton, we just met,” I point out, “You’d be straight up dumb to not put at least a cap on how much I’ll buy.”

“I trust you,” he responds simply.

I sigh, heading into the first store determined to prove him wrong. I don’t know why I’m so annoyed at him not putting a limit on how much I’ll spend- maybe it’s because of how it shows how much he thinks he knows me.

And I don’t want him to know me. This whole situation is a lot more personal than I thought it would end up. I thought it would be a lot more sex and a lot less socialization, but it’s turning out to be half-and-half.

Clayton spends two hundred dollars on me at the first store without batting an eyelash. I’m surprised at the fact that he sticks by his promise and the fact that I found two hundred dollars worth of clothes that I like.

Maybe my eyes are opening to more things since I have a broader budget to spend.

He spends two hundred and fifty dollars on me at the next store, but I’m actually kind of relieved this time since it’s all on expensive makeup. Makeup is where I like to spend my money and if it’s not my money to spend, well, the more the merrier.

“Keep going, princess, we have all night. Or at least until the mall closes,” Clayton smirks at me, connecting his hand that’s not full of bags with mine.

I don’t make a comment about the hand holding but give him a look, tugging him into a lingerie store.

“A treat? For me?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

He looks taken aback at the question but replies, “Blue.”

I walk towards a matching bra and panties set, holding it up in my size. “Like this shade of blue?”

His eyes darken and he nods slowly. I start to head towards the changing room and look back at Clayton, who’s still standing where I left him.

“So are you coming or do I have to put this on by myself?”

He closes the door behind him once he’s in the changing room, turning around to see that I already have my top off and I’m pulling my shorts down my legs.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” He questions.

I pull the straps of the bra up my arms, turning my back towards him. “Clip it for me?”

I watch him in the mirror as he carefully takes the clip in his hands, connecting them so the bra is hooked. His hands travel down to softly rest on my waist and we examine the bra in the mirror.

“How do I look?” I ask softly.

He shakes his head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. “Amazing.”

Our eyes connect and we just stare at each other for a while, enjoying each other’s company. I don’t know when we’ll get a moment so intimate again so I’ll make it last as long as possible.

A voice comes over the loudspeaker informing us that the mall will be closing in an hour and although Clayton doesn’t think I notice, I catch it when he mouths a swear word to himself.

~

I roll over to straddle Clayton’s naked torso and he grabs my hips to help balance me, a small smile on his face as he gazes up at me.

“So I was thinking maybe we could try out the new lingerie that I got today,” I say softly, leaning down to play with his hair.

To my surprise he shrugs, then pulls me down into a hug. “I don’t know, I’m kind of tired. Let’s just cuddle tonight.”

I don’t respond, still in surprise by his rejection. But by the time I get over it he’s already sleeping.