#not about any one dude in particular (although this rant was set off by one post)

[i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman]

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 5 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader (accidentally) blows off a text from Spencer for another guy. Later, Spencer takes her for a second date.   A/N: By the way, when you get to the adorable dance scene, the two songs that inspired me most were “Stardust” by Lyambiko and “We Might as Well Dance” by Madeleine Peyroux (Try not to read into the lyrics, I dare you). Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, jealousy, degradation, penetrative sex Word Count: 10k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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I had never envisioned that my life would end up quite like this. That wasn't to say that it was disappointing or regrettable, although in that moment it felt like I had miscalculated a number of things. There was no other way to describe a Saturday night spent laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling of my friend's apartment as if I could manipulate myself into believing it was Spencer's.

It wasn't anyone's fault that it couldn't be his, instead. The stupid, gorgeous bastard wasn't ignoring me; he was just out of town for the weekend.

Truthfully, I should have been a little more considerate. It wasn't his fault he had to work. But I also couldn't help but be disappointed that he was always working. I hadn't seen him in almost two weeks and it was killing me. The last time I'd seen him was the morning after our first 'date,' and it was a brief enough interaction that I had already run out of ways to overthink it.

Spencer had gotten a restful night of sleep that night. Despite his little impromptu confession, he slept as though he'd never been more peaceful in his life. I had not. I'd had the pleasure of staying up for hours, playing his words through my head on loop and trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.

It didn't amount to anything though. The morning came, and he had long forgotten the words half mumbled through a sleepy daze. I'd told him that he had been mumbling in his sleep, and he asked me if he'd said anything embarrassing. I told him no. He hadn't pressed any further, simply stating that he must've been dreaming.

I almost thought it had been a challenge; a way to test if I'd gotten too close. But then I realized that I was probably just an idiot, and I was wanting it to mean more than it actually did.

So much for having run out of ways to overthink it.

Regardless, his aloofness had returned my heart to the broken, hurting mess it had been before he uttered the words that forever altered my universe.

That wasn't his fault, either. I was the one who'd set myself up for failure by ever imagining that we could be something more. I'd known he wasn't the most emotionally available suitor since the moment I met him. At least, not for me. I'd never actually seen him anyone else.

I didn't really want to think about that, though. I really didn't want to think about that.

"Hey, get your lazy ass up so I can sit down."

The order drew me from my reverie  — rather unpleasantly, might I add. Because when I turned to face my friend standing in front of me, I came face to face with his crotch.

"Dude, I don't want any of that in my face," I laughed to the unfortunately familiar sight. "Back up before I punch you in the dick."

Somewhat surprisingly, he obeyed. He took a step back and waited patiently for me to sit up and scoot over to give him room beside me on the couch. Completely unsuprisingly, however, he did not take advantage of any of the space available. He chose to sit close enough to touch me.

"Some women would do anything to have that privilege," he lied through his teeth.

"Who are these women? And how can I help them avoid this tragic fate?"

He smiled back, having already grown used to me rebuffing all of his advances years before. We had known each other for what felt like forever, but he still tried every chance he'd gotten. That moment was no exception, and it took him very little time to stretch his arm behind me on the couch. I leaned forward, glancing back at the arm that I would continue to avoid despite his best efforts.

I narrowed my eyes in a challenge when he did nothing to remedy the situation. He did not take the humble way out, so my only other option was to do the humbling for him.

"There are three whole couches in this room and you pick the seat directly next to me?"

"You're warm and it's 50 degrees in here," he joked while lifting his other hand to poke me on the nose.

I recoiled in disgust, grabbing the pillow beside me and hitting him in the face with it as hard as humanly possible.

"Then turn up the heat or grab a blanket, jackass," I grumbled, "I'm not giving you my precious body heat."

Once again, he conceded immediately. He held his hands in defeat and scooted just a few inches further away from me. I watched him for a second until he got far enough away, and then returned my attention to my phone, which I had been religiously checking for any news about the vastly more interesting man in my life.

"What are you looking at?"

"My friend. He's supposed to have landed a couple hours ago..."

Seeing that I had no new messages, though, I slumped over onto myself and rested my elbow on my knee. Continuing to ignore the boy trying to get my attention, I favored the one that was possibly ignoring me and endlessly scrolled through our previous conversations.

"Is that the cop? Your boyfriend?" he teased.

"He's not a cop," I corrected with a roll of the eyes.

Although not keen about the thought of the two of them meeting, I did wonder what kind of rant Spencer would've gone into to describe the different types of law enforcement agents. He would learn so much about government job descriptions. But that wasn't the part of the sentence that my friend had stressed, and I felt compelled to answer.

Didn't mean I had to be loud or excited about it, though.

"And he's not my boyfriend," I mumbled into my palm. I hated how pathetic it felt; how forlorn I could be over a man not giving me enough attention. He was still just a man.

A very cute, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous one. But a man, nonetheless. Destined to be disappointing. During my daydreams and hopeful, lovesick thoughts, my friend had come to another, different conclusion about the type of man Spencer was.

"He carries a gun and can arrest people. He's a cop."

"Whatever," I said with a heavy sigh. Wasn't worth it to fight, so I admitted to my childish infatuation with an equally pitiful, "Yeah, it's Spencer. I was hoping he'd want to see me."

I turned the volume on my phone before finally setting it down, but continued to eye the screen until it went dark.

"It's not like you to chase after a dude," he so helpfully commented.

To his credit, he was right. It wasn't like me. But Spencer wasn't like other guys I'd met, and while it was true that Spencer was ten years older than me, I could tell that age wasn't the only thing setting him apart. It wasn't even necessarily something about him in particular, although he certainly was extraordinary.

It was more like... the way he looked at me. The way I never felt like anything even remotely close to lackluster. He looked at me like the stares shone through my eyes, and the blindness was worth witnessing the unfiltered eclipse.

"I'm not chasing him. We just like spending time with each other," I explained before sitting up straighter and placing a gentle hand to my chest in feigned pride. "I'm a very interesting person."

But then he responded with the last question I wanted to hear, or even think about potentially considering in that moment. The one that had been weighing on my mind no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

"So... why isn't he your boyfriend, then?"

I hadn't wanted to hear it because I didn't have an answer. And no matter how hard I inspected my cuticles, they likewise produced no excuse worth saying.

The man to my right was twisting his body as he settled into the seat. He kept his chest open to me in some display of fragile masculinity that was very easy to ignore.

"Is he like, ashamed of you or something?" he suggested.

That was less easy to ignore.

"No..." I wanted it to sound more certain than it did. As it stood, it was downright pathetic. Especially compared to his much more confident reply of, "Then what's his excuse?"

I sighed again, that time pulling my legs up on the couch in my unending quest to find some semblance of comfort while being interrogated on the most irritating subject of all time.

"He doesn't need an excuse. We both agreed it's better to just be friends."

He moved closer to me again, and I didn't have the energy to tell him to stop. Not like he would have listened, anyway. Egotistical prick with absolutely nothing to substantiate his inflated sense of self.

"You deserve better than that, (y/n)."

While his words were soft in volume, everything else about him remained gruff and uninviting. Nothing at all like the way Spencer could shift and turn into something completely different. My friend could act like his feigned tenderness was meaningful, but I knew that he liked the thought of me more than who I actually was.

"Yeah, right. With who? You?" I droned, wishing that my words could actually be laced with venom. Maybe then he'd have abandoned this foolhardy quest to win my affections.

"I mean I'm not gonna turn you down if you're offering," he joked.

It was that lightness that was his main redeeming feature; the reason I could keep him around even when his fingers tapped against my opposite shoulder. I laughed at both the sensation and suggestion, refusing by lifting his arm off my shoulders before excusing myself from the couch altogether.

"Piss off. I'm running down to the basement. You want anything?"

"Just for you to come back quick," was his immediate, not-at-all charming reply.

"You're a fucking idiot," was mine.

It wasn't until I was already on my way back up after grabbing a blanket and a drink that I had actually managed to forget about my phone for at least a few minutes.

Then, the terror came. The worry that Spencer had called me, and I'd failed to answer. The possibility that he might've hit my number on a list and already moved on to the next. It had only been like five minutes but still. He talked so damn fast, he could've torn through 5 phone calls in that time.

A little faster, I made my way back to the living room, shouting from down the hall, "Hey, did I leave my phone up here?"

He didn't answer immediately, but then eventually slurred, "Uhh. Yep. Sure did."

When I rounded the corner, I found the gremlin going through my phone. As I already started to plan the new pass code now that he'd gone and figured it out, I ran over, half-tackling him on the couch as I screeched, "Give it back, you dick!"

It was no use. He held it just outside my reach, laughing at the way I scrambled over him to try and grab it.

"Not unless you promise not to check it until after the movie."

Sighing with resignation, I plopped down next to him, my arms crossed and eyes rolled as I convinced myself it was unlikely Spencer would text me within the next hour and a half if he hadn't already.

It was pretty late. Maybe he had already gone to bed and just forgotten to let me know he got home. Besides, I owed my friend as much for managing to get me to forget to check it for this long, no?

"Fine. I promise," I groaned.

I tried not to let the thought ruin my night. The next two hours were like they usually were. He kept trying to cuddle with me, and I kept pushing him away until I eventually didn't. I gave into the general familiarity with the guy I'd known for basically half of all my memories, stopping every few seconds to wonder if I should have felt guilty.

Then I felt guilty for having asked myself at all.

Once the credits began to roll, I held my hand out with zero hesitation. I (im)patiently for him to deposit my phone, which he did, to his credit. However, what I found struck me to my core. My hands immediately began to shake hard enough that the LED blurred in my vision.

"Uhhh, what the fuck is this?"

"What?"

I held up my phone, displaying a text message that had been sent from my phone a couple hours earlier. On the screen, clear as day, me and him from earlier in the day. A painfully domestic snapshot of the two of us running errands together.

The picture shown, though, was one that I swore I'd deleted from my phone. It was him with his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest while I laughed. It wasn't a bad picture, but the context was entirely absent. For example, the fact that I'd almost bruised his chest hitting him right after the photo was taken.

"Why did you send this picture?!" I yelled, desperately swiping at the time stamp. "Two hours ago?!"

He was much too quiet for what was happening. In my haste, I hadn't even notice the accompanying text above the picture, which read 'Sorry man, she's all mine tonight.' Spencer didn't reply.

"Why didn't you tell me that he texted me?!"

My frustration had peaked, and I stood up, pacing somewhat unproductively as I tried to collect my things.

"Because I knew you'd try to leave, and I haven't seen you in fucking ages," he whined, as if I was overreacting.

But I wasn't. This contrived bullshit was entirely his fault, and entirely fucking ridiculous.

"Are you fucking kidding me, dude?" I shouted, finally finding my bag and shoving my stuff inside of it angrily. I didn't even finish, with a few loose coins angrily clambering to the floor as the soundtrack to my farewell.

"Well, now I'm definitely leaving, so kiss my ass!"

Before I could actually leave, I held up my middle finger in the furthest thing from a joke.

"Wait, (y/n), it was a joke!" he called back but didn't try to follow me.

He'd known it wouldn't work. I was too mad.

"You're not fucking funny!"

I slammed the door to my car loud enough to wake the neighbors, but I couldn't care even a little bit. My hands were shaking so hard, that it was a struggle just to click my phone. But I did, fervently pressing Spencer's name until the stupid, traitorous phone could figure out what I wanted it to do.

It rang for 15 whole seconds before I grieved the reality that he wasn't going to pick up. I sighed, lowering my phone to hang up before he could ignore the call or I was given the choice to leave a voicemail. It had been my own fault, anyway.

But just before I hit the button, I heard a tired, crackly voice coming from the other side of the line.

"(Y/n)?"

Oh my god, he picked up.

Then, all at once, the words poured out of me.

"Spencer? I'm so sorry I didn't text you back! Please ignore my friend. He's a fucking idiot."

I could tell from the silence that Spencer was replaying them in his head to try to make sense of the frantic, slurred speech in his own sleepy state. Once he had gotten the gist of my panic, he started to laugh through a yawn.

"It's fine. You looked like you were having fun."

I couldn't tell if it was jealousy in his voice or something else. Either way, it felt terrible. My insecurities crept through my throat and came out with dramatic overcompensation.

"Yeah right. He held my phone hostage. I was waiting to hear from you and he got jealous or something."

There was an awkward silence on the other side of the phone, and so I continued with only a little tremor in my voice, "I'm glad to see that you got home alright."

Another few seconds of silence followed, but then it was the Spencer I was used to again.

"Yeah. It's less fun without you here, though."

That wasn't supposed to be as romantic as it seemed, I reminded myself. He was just flirting. Typical fuckboy nonsense, uttered to get a rise out of me one way or another. He didn't actually mean to imply that he'd already considered what it might be like for me to have joined him.

Right?

"I can still come if you want," I rushed, looking down at the clock in my car for the first time and grimacing at the revelation that the 'something else' in his tone had, in fact, been exhaustion.

"Although... I'm just now realizing its 2am and I definitely woke you up..."

"Typical," he joked, "you being out late, trying to make me jealous with age-appropriate boys."

My laugh bounced back at me from the walls of the car, and I covered my mouth once I remembered that I was still in a public area.

It was weird to me how whenever I talked to Spencer, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I'd never felt that way with another person before. Those cheesy romcoms were all starting to make sense, and I hated how powerless that made me feel.

"I was not! Trust me, if I wanted to make you jealous, I could do much better," I humbly stated. It was only a little bit of a threat. "I just don't know why he did that. And of course, that picture, which I had deleted, by the way. He seriously had to get it from another folder. He just likes to torture me, I guess."

Spencer cleared his throat from the other side of the phone, readjusting before he clearly enunciated, "He likes you."

The statement wasn't shocking. Anyone who'd spent more than five minutes with the two of us knew that he probably liked me. I'd even considered exploring it at one point before smacking myself in the face and reminding myself of my standards.

But still, to have Spencer know that felt a little bit weird. After all, most 20-something boys would do anything to torture their friends. Even the girl ones. Especially the girl ones.

Then something else began to brew in my chest; a twisted sort of pleasure derived from the sharpness that had formed on Spencer's tongue. The jealousy creeping through the crackling static and wrapping its talons around my heart.

"... I don't know," I absently said.

He sensed the hesitancy in my voice, and asked back with a strange inflection, "Do you like him?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, closing my eyes as I dropped my head back against the headrest. I didn't want to answer that question honestly. I felt like nothing I said could be right. So, I just chose the closest thing to the truth.

"No, not really."

We were back in one of those awkward silences. The kind where we both wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I turned my car on when the stale, stagnant air became too suffocating. The sound alerted him to enough information for him to speak again.

"Are you heading home?"

I switched my phone to the other hand, trying to delay giving my answer by sounding busy. I didn't really have a reason, I just hadn't wanted to hang up yet.I wanted to stall him and selfishly keep him around just a little bit longer.

"Yeah, I guess."

Super smooth. I could still salvage it though.

"...Unless you've changed your mind and would like a personal space heater in bed with you."

Spencer's laughter would have been offensive if it wasn't so adorable.

"Yeah right, your feet are freezing. I don't even know how you still have toes."

That checked out, and also gave me an escape from the terrifying prospect of ending the call.

"I'll wear socks!" I offered with the utmost enthusiasm, "I actually own thigh highs, you know. If you're into that, Professor."

It had been a few weeks since our tryst, but I had hardly ever stopped thinking about it. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I'd traced the marks he'd left behind with an ungodly powerful nostalgia.

His laughter turned to frustrated groans as he mumbled, "Are you trying to torture me?"

Once our ruckus died back down, the silence was more serious than strange. I felt the urge to apologize again. I needed him to hear the sincerity behind what were so often empty words.

"I'm really sorry I missed your message, Spencer."

My voice was quiet, unsure, and scared. I didn't want to lose him, and I knew an extreme on either side of the emotional spectrum would let him slip away so easily.

It was exhausting being emotionally lukewarm, but some part of me wanted to believe that it would be worth it with him. That patience was all it would take to show him why he had nothing to be afraid of.

But where I showed mercy, he showed himself to lack it in any sense of the word.

"It's fine, (y/n). I'm not your boyfriend. If I really want the company, I can find it."

That wasn't why I was sorry, and what he'd said only made it worse. The ugly, resentful part of myself was convinced that was why he'd said it at all.

We both knew I didn't want him to find it with someone else. That was the entire reason I was sorry I missed it. If I missed his call, nothing was stopping him from making another one. I hadn't ever asked if there were other girls in his life, but I definitely didn't want to find out like that.

"I missed you the past couple weeks. I still do."

The genuineness in my voice scared me. I hated being vulnerable; especially when he was already so apprehensive about me. I wished I knew why he was. But at that moment, he was being his usual playful self, not willing to give me any hint of an answer in exchange for my candor.

No, just: "You're so good at whining."

I pouted like he would be able to see it.

"I just want some cuddles. Is that too much to ask?"

"Go ask your boyfriend, I'm sure he would be more than happy to oblige," he quipped.

"He's not as good at it as you are," I deflected, playing off the suddenly obvious jealousy in his tone. Before I could rub my quick wit in his face, however, Spencer raised a white flag that I'd never seen coming.

"Fine. I'll wait up."

That was when I realized that he had been more jealous than I'd thought, and I still had a startling amount of power to play with.

But I was still unable to comprehend it, and with a graceless gasp, I chirped, "Wait really? I can come over?"

An unsure laugh and an almost audible shrug later, he responded, "Sure, I figure it'll get me to bed faster somehow, as opposed to staying on this call."

I didn't hesitate to start to pull my car out of the spot, happily singing into the phone, "Okay! I'm on my way! Bye Spencer!"

"See you soon."

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As I was old enough to be able to tell time, and aware enough to recognize that it was incredibly too late to be knocking on an apartment door, I tried to do so softly. I halfway succeeded, stifling the noise enough that he could still hear it, but his neighbors wouldn't. They would remain unaware of the girl bouncing on her toes outside of his door, squealing the second she heard shuffling feet on the other side.

Jesus Christ, I sound like a teenager, the more sensible side of me noted.

I might've felt shame, had he not opened the door in that very moment to reveal himself, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and pajamas on that were big enough they his half his hands.

He was... in a word, adorable.

"Hey sleepyhead," I cooed.

Spencer remained silent, but offered his arm in a halfhearted invitation for a hug. The blanket hung like a wing that I very much wanted to wrap myself in, and he was all too happy to allow. I actually giggled as I lunged towards him. I wrapped both arms around him and breathed in the clean scent of laundry detergent and soap.

"I'm sleepy, too," I said with a relieved sigh. The air was quickly replaced with that which smelled of him. So, too, the silence filled with a soft chuckle as he pulled me close to him and rested his chin on the top of my head.

Like a man from a fairy tale, he started to sway, slowly turning us around until we were headed in the right direction. The right one, of course being the one that would lead to us falling in bed together again.

"Alright, little girl, you can come crawl into bed with me tonight."

The words were like music to my ears, and I felt like I was floating. I was glowing, my skin flushed with warmth like a wood fire on a cold Winter night, and my eyes fell half lidded from some mixture of tired and pleased.

"Thank you, sir," I slurred through a smile. It grew wider as he took my hands, prying me away from him to lead me back to his room with more purpose.

Once we finally padded over, I dropped my overnight bag on the floor and began to strip off my shirt. He eyed the bag on the floor with a feeling I could almost place.

"Were you planning on staying with him?"

I felt a pain through my chest as he asked, because I knew the answer. I had been, but only because I'd done it so many times before. Our mutual friend wasn't in the house, so I knew I could use his bed. But saying I was planning on staying there alone sounded even more suspicious.

"Yeah. I've stayed there before. Always in a different room. We've been friends a long time."

There was something about the way he looked at me that made my stomach flip in a delicious way. A feeling that could only be described as dangerous and exhilarating. But then it was gone, replaced by the apathy he usually tried to display. I continued to strip, nonetheless, slowly peeling my leggings down and stepping out of them. I could feel his eyes on me.

I twisted by body in the hope that the movement would distract him from the conversation I hadn't really wanted to have. Jealousy, while a fun tool for the consenting, had a tendency to grow old quickly. It was a beast that did not like to be controlled; especially when taken by surprise.

But he had no reason to be jealous. I had all but begged him to come over, and I was currently naked in his bedroom. I didn't even look up at him before sliding under the covers. I was too scared for what I might find, and opted for enjoying the lingering body heat and smell of Spencer on the sheet, instead.

"I don't want to know how good you are when you're trying," he warned.

I looked up at him with guilty eyes, recognizing this was his gentle way of telling me he was jealous. But he'd said it himself... He wasn't my boyfriend.

"Come here," I pleaded while running my arms along the empty space where he belonged. "I'll show you why you shouldn't be jealous."

Spencer licked his lips as he looked at my exposed chest, pulling off his pajamas and slinking under the covers with me. Facing each other, my hands quickly found his erection, pumping it softly as he immediately rewarded me with a soft moan.

"I missed this," I whispered, closing the gap between our faces.

He responded in kind, taking his time to lay a lazy kiss against my mouth while he groaned, "I missed your hands. Among other parts."

As he spoke, his hand was traveling down my side to my center. My breathing picked up as he got closer, but he diverted, running his fingers up and down my arms that continued to work his length. The soft whimper that escaped my mouth entertained him, and he brought his hand back down.

"Say please, (y/n)."

I couldn't talk though. I was biting down on my lip to stop myself from telling him I fucking hated him for teasing me. With big puppy dog eyes, I watched him while I chewed on my bottom lip.

"Stop biting on that lip or I'll do it for you. I don't care how cute you are."

His hand now ghosted over exactly where I wanted them, and he used the very tip of his finger to collect the wetness forming there. My hands stopped as he made contact, my grip tightening for a second.

"Say please."

He wanted me to beg for him to touch me, but I didn't want his hand. It was almost 3 AM and I was exhausted and needed him. All of him, immediately. Badly enough that

"Fuck me, sir," the words spilled out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me."

A content humming came from him as he brought a hand to my hair. But the pleased sound lulled me into a false sense of security, which was shattered seconds later when he pulled my head back to look him in the eyes.

From there, I could see that look in his eyes again. That dark, possessive stare that made me long for the shadows to consume me if it meant more time with him.

"I p-promise," I stuttered as one of his fingers teased at my folds.

He raised his eyebrows as he waited for me to finish my thought.

With a cruel, sadistic smile, I continued, "I promise I won't think of anyone else."

That playful characteristic snark that has originally driven him to me had returned, and he pretended to be disappointed. He liked it, though. He wouldn't admit it, but the way I read the secret, hidden thoughts in his mind like he could read one of his book clearly drove him insane.

He guided me by his hold on my hair, lifting me off the pillow and not taking a minute to consider the repercussions before growling in my ear, "Turn around."

I obeyed, happily pressing up against his crotch as I settled into my position as his little spoon. I noticed a distinct lack of a pause this time, and gears began to click together as I felt him rub the bare head of his cock in the slickness pooling around my thighs.

"I have some questions for you, little girl."

He was pissed.

"When was the last time you got tested?"

I could hardly think straight as I realized where this was going. I tried to gather my thoughts and enough control to stutter back, "L-last week. I-I haven't... haven't slept with anyone else. Not since you."

My answer earned me a tender kiss on the neck, but it wasn't enough. I was trying to still my hips from knocking back against him. I couldn't completely stop myself, though, and I knew it made him feel even more confident about his decision.

"Good. Me neither," he replied.

I sighed with relief, happy to at least answer that question. I'd barely had any time to recover, though, before he continued, "Is there any way you could get pregnant right now?"

I shook my head no. He stopped my head with one hand on my chin from behind.

"Use your words."

"No!" I half shouted, realizing I just sounded like a brat. "No, no I can't. I'm on birth control. I won't get pregnant. Promise. You can..."

My breath matched pace with my heart, and I swore I was already lightheaded. Still, I forced the last few words through the heavy panting to earn my next, far more enticing prize. The magic words he had been waiting for:

"You can do whatever you want to me."

When he released my hair, my head fell forward just for a second, because soon my entire back arched in response to the way he began to push inside of me.

"Good," was all he'd said.

With that, he fully sheathed himself inside of me, and I cried out as I felt the way he stretched me. His hand swiftly covered my mouth before he began to pound into me from behind. One of my hands tried to keep me in place on the bed, while the other flew up to his hand over my mouth, holding it without trying to remove it.

I was calling his name underneath him, and he responded by making shorter, deeper thrusts.

Through it all, he chuckled in my ear, "It's always funny how fast you stop acting like a brat after I put it in you."

My eyes rolled back at his words, breath shuddering against his hand. He slid all the way out of me, and then applied enough force to push me up in the bed.

"Have you ever had someone finish inside you before?" he asked too sweetly for the provocative words. He moved his hand from my mouth and dragged it to move the hair that had fallen in front of my face.

I went to shake my head but remembered his instruction. Instead, I cried, "N-no."

"Good," he responded again, and my toes curled at the pride he felt in claiming this body as his own. He took my hand in his, pulling it down to feel the small bump forming in my abdomen each time he slammed into me. The next time it appeared, he halted, holding me in position against him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that the next time anyone even thinks about touching you, all they'll taste on you is me."

He pulled out slowly before pounding into me again. With more violence in his motions and venom on his tongue, he spat, "and if you want them you can explain to them how you begged for me to come inside your tight little cunt."

I was in a state of shock, unable to comprehend how he was capable of making such cruel, licentious words. Each one made my body shake, and he kept himself inside me longer with each motion to extend the feeling. I ached at the way he filled me, desperately clinging to my own stomach where I could feel him.

"Good luck thinking about anyone else while I run down your thighs," he said before punctuating it with a firm, unforgiving, "you fucking bitch."

With that, he finally moved his hand, but it was not a merciful action. His fingers rubbed in the mess of our bodies, then dragged the wetness back to my clit, pressing harder than he ever had before. My head was still swimming from his language, and I thankfully didn't have to use my words. He was very capable of figuring out my body language himself.

I could feel the way the heat coiled in my stomach, the tension building as his mouth ran along my neck. Once he attached himself to one spot, driving into me at a brutal pace, I felt the energy shift and begin to blossom. Feeling the way my muscles quivered around him, he stopped his kisses, groaning loudly in my ear.

"Fuck, little girl," he continued to moan, his thrusts faltering as I tried to coax his orgasm out of him. It seemed to be what he was waiting for. Unable to contain the shrill cry that tore from my chest as his arousal filled me, I tried to pull away from him. But I couldn't, his hands holding me down and his hips rocking as deep as they could possibly move inside of me.

Exhausted, I tried to move away from him once his movements stilled. However, in another surprising move he slid out just to slam back into me again.

I whimpered from the overstimulation, doubling forward as he gave a few more deep, rough thrusts before pulling out entirely.

I had no idea how, but Spencer immediately got out of bed. He left me a sweaty, desperate mess on his bed. Thankfully, he tossed me a towel to help me clean up so I wouldn't have to sleep in the puddle dripping slowly down my legs. Shaky but satisfied, I somehow managed to make it to the bathroom and clean up.

When I returned, he was still awake. He was silent, sitting up in the bed with his eyes closed and contemplative. As I shut the door, he finally noticed my presence. He turned to look at me with an awkward smile until he pat my spot on the bed.

"Come here, little girl."

A little too excited, I shuffled over with a bounce in my step. Not satisfied with simply lying next to him, I curled into his side, wrapping my arm around his waist and nuzzling my face to his chest. From there, I listened to the way his heartbeat seemed to slow down with my touch. How his muscles relaxed under me, like he had been anxiously awaiting my return the same way I had been waiting to return to him.

"You're not really a bitch," he mumbled in a quiet, sleepy voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, tilting my head up to glance at him from my position on his chest.

"I mean, I am a little bit. But I know what you mean."

He wrapped a tight arm around me, using his hand to run softly through my hair. Leaning down, he gave the top of my head a small peck. I smiled against his skin, loving the way it felt to be surrounded by him. To be safe and cared for despite all else.

"Thank you for coming here with me tonight," he said in a low volume, like the words might spook me. "You're a very special girl. I hope you know that."

I didn't know how to respond, so I stayed frozen in place. I waited to hear the rest of what he wanted to say. People have always said we're most honest at night. I wanted it to be true, to give more meaning to loaded words.

"I'm really glad I met you," was what he said.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the words that felt like a balm on my aching soul. Unable to come up with a response that wasn't terrifying, though, I sat up and crawled to him. It was my turn to return a tender kiss, this time to his lips. As we pulled apart, he still looked at me like the answers to the universe were written on my skin.

I went to kiss him again, but he stopped me with a hand on my face.

"Don't..." he instructed, breaking my heart with just one command.

But I saw the fear reflected in our eyes, the kind that was deeper than a simple rejection. It was not the fear that we might not love one another. It was the fear that we very well might one day.

Spencer said none of that, though. He left me to forever wonder if it was just me who felt it. Instead, he surrendered with a simpler, safer explanation.

"If you kiss me like that again, I won't be able to stop myself."

I didn't ask what he was stopping himself from doing. No matter how badly I wanted to. Instead, I ran the back of my fingers against his cheek and whispered in the space between us, "Make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again."

My desired outcome came true, but not quite how I wanted. He didn't kiss me deep or passionately. He kissed me soft, like my lips were made of glass. He kissed me like he was protecting me from the terrors of his mind.

"Go to sleep, little girl," he instructed gently, coaxing me back to my position on his chest as we both sunk down to lay flat on the bed. "Picard can wait."

Laying there, next to what I was convinced was an actual human angel, I gave myself permission to drift off into sleep, hoping that my dreams could be half as good as reality.

That didn't happen.

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark outside, so it couldn't have been too long after we'd fallen asleep. Spencer had turned away from me at some point. That wasn't strange or entirely surprising, but I noticed a strange sound from his side of the bed that made my hair stand on edge and my stomach churn.

It was... crying.

"Spencer?" I asked as quiet as I could. When he didn't respond, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder in the hope that it would be an easier transition to the waking word.

But his body still jerked under my touch, and he sat up much too quickly before grabbing his face in both hands. It wasn't until then that he noticed, drawing his hands back slowly and inspecting the wetness he found on his fingertips.

"Hey, Spencer, are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

Suddenly extremely worried, I brought both of my hands to his arms and pulled him closer to me.

He still didn't answer.

"Were you having a nightmare?"

So many red flags were burning through my brain, and I didn't know what to do with the information in front of me. I just wanted to help him.

"I... I must have been. I'm sorry," he said when he finally spoke. He wiped at his tears like he could erase what I had already seen. Moving his hands away, careful to keep my touch as non-threatening as possible, I wiped his still falling tears away with my thumb.

"Why are you sorry, Spencer?"

"I... don't know."

It was an honest, but terrifying answer. A quickly completed checklist of a horror I was deeply familiar with. A reality that I wouldn't wish it on anyone in the world. Especially not him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he replied with a force so strong I thought the word was physically painful for him to say.

"Okay," I reassured him, "We don't have to."

He wasn't laying back down. He wasn't moving at all. It was like he was somewhere else entirely.

I moved closer to him, placing a hand on his back to gently rub circles and another on his lap. I offered the only thing I could think to help him in that moment.

"Do you want me to hold you?"

His eyes were fixated on my hand on his lap, his breathing slowly regulating the longer we sat like this.

Still, he halfway refused, "It's okay."

Raising my hand again, I ran it through his hair before guiding him to look at me with a tentative smile.

"You're not a burden, Spencer. I want to."

The tears were falling again, albeit slower and with his mouth curved ever so slightly. I tried to give him the calmest reassurance I could. A soft glow in my eyes that burned with the affection and comfort I desperately  wanted to provide.

"Come here, love," I said as I motioned to me.

Spencer dutifully followed. Soon his head was on my chest, my hand curling his hair around my fingers. He hugged my waist like I was the only thing keeping him here.

And I laid there with him, trying not to think about the way his tears wet my skin. Hoping that, for now, it would be enough for him to get some sleep.

A mop of curly brown hair was the first thing I saw when I woke up to the shine of the sun through the curtains. I smiled, but only until I remembered why he was on my chest.

It was obvious that he had barely slept, his muscles continuing to persistently twitch in their paranoid state. When I went to pet his head again, he stirred under me, pulling himself closer to me the same way he had before.

I didn't want to think about what had happened, but I knew I had to. Normal people don't wake up crying from a nightmare, and they certainly don't get painfully defensive when it happens.

I hadn't known practically anything about his life before. What he had been through, or whether he'd told anyone at all. I hadn't even known if he'd anyone to tell.

I was painfully reminded that he was not the superhero I made him out to be in my head. He was just a man, trying his hardest to do more good in the world than all the evil combined. That was an impossible task, though. He was doomed to fail.

His ears must have been burning, because the longer I thought about it, the more he woke up. Eventually he was entirely alert, sitting up and removing himself from the position we'd assumed for the past several hours.

I was surprised to remember what it felt like to be able to breathe without the weight of him on top of me. I was even more surprised to feel my chest felt heavier in his absence.

"Good morning," I mumbled, watching as he effortlessly got out of bed and began to get ready.

He seemed embarrassed, but he really shouldn't have been.

"Did you get any sleep?"I asked.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair before he turned back to me, a smile on his face like nothing was wrong.

"No," he sighed, "This brat woke me up at 2 AM and insisted I sleep with her."

It was nice to know he was still capable of joking but concerning to see that he was so good at compartmentalizing. I laughed along with him, nonetheless, sliding out of the bed to join him in getting dressed.

"What a bitch," I said with a smirk.

As hard as it was to pretend like the night before hadn't happened, I knew that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Heaven knew it would have been much worse to burn the bridge then. At least if I built the trust now, he might be willing to talk about it later.

"You know, I wasn't actually going to tell you to come over last night," Spencer announced.

The 360 of the conversation took me by surprise, and I blinked rapidly to try and reorient myself.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm glad you did. But I was actually going to ask you if you're free tonight."

Spencer was nothing if not an emotional rollercoaster demanding passengers before 10AM. Ready to roll bright and fuckin' early.

"Yeah, I am. If you're still wondering," I answered in place of the multitude of questions I hadn't been ready to ask yet. Questions like, why was he wondering? Why did he need to schedule this? Was this another 'not-a-date' date?

"I wanted to take you somewhere," he mentioned casually, finally fully dressed while I still struggled to put on my clothes.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise," he said with raised eyebrows, like he was so very proud of himself.

I'd let him have that one, but only because he was so damn cute.

"Fine. That means I have to go home to get cleaned up first, then."

He seemed only a little disappointed by that, but overall acquiesced. I was a little sad about it, too, but remained confident in the old adage that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Besides, I wanted to look cute for my surprise.

We hadn't talked much before I left. I could tell he was still struggling with coming to terms with what he'd accidentally revealed to me in the middle of the night.

Honestly, it was a good thing I left. The desire to talk about it was overwhelming, and some things are better left unsaid...

For now, I promised myself. Just for now.

—————————————————

Spencer came to pick me up without a hitch. When I climbed into his car, I fully expected him to not tell me where we were going. I was right; he didn't. Of course, after about 30 minutes I recognized the route we were going. When I'd graciously pointed it out to him with increasingly less subtle suggestions, he still refused to give me a single hint.

That was, until we pulled into Observatory parking lot.

"I've never been here before!" I squeaked. My excitement had been obvious enough with the embarrassing crack, and Spencer's interest in my enthusiasm only grew.

He was looking at me with that soft, slightly saccharine smile.

"I figured. You aren't nerdy enough to go by yourself," he chuckled. The genuineness behind the sound made the already excited butterflies in my stomach begin to swarm.

"Hey, I can be cultured too, you know," I still corrected with the worst posh accent you've ever heard.

With a teasing smile on his face, the stupid man chose to look away rather than to admit his honest reaction to the statement.

Asshole, I thought, only to be proven wrong seconds later.  Forever a gentleman, Spencer joined me on my side of the car and took utmost care and attention to help me out from my seat.

It felt strange, to adorn his arm like something beautiful as we gazed at the stars together. I tried not to think about it, but wondered just how far he was willing to risk being seen with me in an undoubtedly romantic setting.

"Isn't this place usually closed to the public? I know they have limited general admission days," I asked, despite already knowing the answer. I just wanted to see if my hunch was correct.

"Yeah, I might have called in a favor or two."

Fuck, was my first thought. The next twelve thoughts, however, were all reiterations of 'Don't get your hopes up.'

My grip on his arm tightened, but he didn't seem to mind. I'd guessed that his nonchalance was entirely due to the private nature of the excursion, but I wasn't going to ask, and I certainly wouldn't complain. I was happy enough that he'd brought me, even if he wasn't ready to admit why. I could be patient. Sometimes.

Once inside, Spencer knew exactly where to go. I watched in awe at how many people knew who he was, and how much they looked up to him. While I had also always been impressed by him, it'd become easy to forget just how impressive he was when all the time we'd spent together was so far away from the rest of the world.

But Spencer's quiet humility certainly wasn't an issue that night. He spent nearly two hours walking me through what ended up being essentially all the stars in the sky. Much like the museum, it consisted of me adoring both the content of his words and the man himself.

He told me the story of the vain Queen Cassiopeia and her doting husband Cepheus, still holding each other in the stars millennia later. He spoke enthusiastically and with no sense of pacing. Half the time my eyes left the telescope, turning instead to marvel at the way he moved his hands and fidgeted with his hair as his voice tumbled out of him like it couldn't be contained.

It was just the two of us in the room when he finished, the dim lights and quiet ambiance catching up with me as I stared at him with all the reverence in the universe above us. He eventually finished his thoughts on Perseus and Andromeda, and I could tell by the look on his face that their love story meant something to him.

"You're quite the romantic, Dr. Reid."

He seemed surprised by the sentiment, like it was something he'd never heard before, and now he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. So, he simply laughed awkwardly and moved closer to peer into the telescope.

Whether it was because he felt a stronger connection to the extraterrestrial, or because he simply didn't want me to see that he was blushing, I didn't mind either way. A few less seconds under the scrutiny of his gaze would do my heart well.

"Not sure many people would use that word," he said under his breath when he worked up the courage to speak.

"Well, I did," I replied much more confidently.

He was smiling but trying to hide it the same as the pink hue to his cheeks.

"You said you were 14 when you went to college, right?" I said with narrow eyes, trying to read him from under the large machine.

"Yeah," he responded with an equal dose of caution, "... why?"

"Probably didn't go to prom then, huh?"

His answer was obvious from the way his entire body jumped. Knocking his head on the telescope as he rushed to give an answer, all his mouth would produced was a long, dumb, "Uhhh."

I knew he was about to try to run away. Before he could, I stopped him. With both hands on his arm, I kept him close. Eventually, his muscles gave in and accepted my embrace.

"Come on; dance with me," I begged.

He looked around the room for an excuse. There was no one there, just the two of us on arguably the most heartwarming date I've ever been on in my life.

"There's no music," he scrambled, eventually admitting, "aaand I can't dance."

Ignoring the pitter-pattering of a childish, lovesick heart, I laughed.

"I can teach you, Dr. Reid."

We both knew he wasn't getting out of this one. As I hopped down from the stool, I revealed my secret weapon from my pocket. I pulled up a playlist that I knew would suit him and the setting, and I held out my hand in an invitation that couldn't be refused.

"I have all the world of music at my fingertips. Now I just need you. "

Spencer groaned, but behind it all I saw an undeniable happiness. When he put his hand in mine, it too felt like warmth and safety. I took it with an even brighter grin, immediately bringing him closer to sway slowly to the music coming from my phone now seated on the stool.

The acoustics of the room let the music flow through, and within moments we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. My cheek rested against his chest and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You lied to me, Dr. Reid. You definitely know how to dance."

"Okay, but does it really count if you've only ever done it with your mom?" he asked.

I threw my head back as I laughed, and he joined me. The two of us shamelessly filled the large room with a warmth not entirely unlike a far away star.

"Don't laugh at me!" he pouted, but I think he actually enjoyed the sound.

"I'm sorry," I whined, "you're just so fucking cute I don't know how to handle it."

Finally able to stifle the joyous sounds, I looked up at him with even more fascination than I'd showed the stars. I'm not sure what I had expected, but it wasn't what I'd found. Because Spencer's eyes were like mirrors facing the sun; reflecting the passions I spewed so carelessly right back at me.

"There are over a million words in the English language, and I still can't think of a single combination to explain how I feel about you."

Just like that, he'd stolen my breath and my sense. My smile fell into a look of smitten shock, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince my heart to fall back into its rhythm.

"I-I'm surprised you don't know the exact number," I said with an awkward chuckle.

"Well, some estimate that it's 1,025,109, but new words are created constantly, and it would depend on what actually counts as a new word. Not to mention the different dialects, words that have fallen out of common use, or words that may be used for entirely different purposes despite being the same."

I raised my eyebrows, not at all surprised that he had an answer, but excited to hear it, nonetheless.

"But it doesn't matter," he whispered, impervious to just how much he was breaking my heart. "Because no matter the number, I know it won't be enough."

My eyes lit up like the stars we had just spent hours staring at, and I wondered if he could tell. He must have. Because his hand on my hip pulled me closer, and our hands intertwined as our pace slowed to a stop. Our breath was unsteady as he came closer to me, pausing just before our lips touched.

We shared the oxygen between us, daring the other to do what we both know we shouldn't.

So I did, leaning up to kiss him as my hand slid up his arm and around his neck. His hesitation melted into the embrace, our tongues gently sharing space in an entirely new way.

I thought to the millions of stars in the sky, realizing that I shared Spencer's skepticism of an unknown number. Because no matter how many stars there were, I knew there would never be enough to outshine that moment between the two of us.

It was not a hurried or excited kiss. It was an amorous, amazing promise of a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that they wrote about in Corinthians. It was patient and kind. It was not proud nor self-seeking. Spencer's free hand held my face against his; the way they wrote that love always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.

Did he feel the way he was kissing me? Because I had.

I felt it like a storm, the breeze blowing the air from my lungs and breaking down the walls around me. I held onto him and this moment, scared of what this meant for us. How could I pretend like we were just friends when I shook for days at his touch?

That was why I was the one to end the kiss, looking down away from him as I did. A soft, defeated chuckle as I took a deep breath. When our eyes met again, I lowered my arms to his chest, listening to the soft tunes still floating through the room.

"We should go home now," I whispered.

He was reading my reactions; I could feel it. And in doing so, he had lowered his own walls too far. I could see them behind his eyes.

My voice shook as I continued, "... before you do something else to try and make me fall in love with you."

Spencer didn't look scared as he replied with a cheeky little grin, "Why, is it working?"

I almost passed out at the way his eyes softened at my goofy smile.

"I'm kidding," he immediately followed.

I rolled my eyes at the absolute bullshit of a lie. I tried to play it off like it was nothing, but my heart felt like it would fall out of my chest. I tried not to think about it too hard as we made our way back to the car.

As he helped me in, I realized that we were really going to continue acting like none of that just happened. I tried to think of how that kiss we shared could be written off, but I couldn't. That was not the kind of kiss between friends. It was not the kind of kiss between strangers.

It was a kiss of the kind we both implicitly promised not to talk about.

Once the trip home had begun, I gathered the courage to tread lightly.

"So, what was the fantasy for tonight?" I innocently asked.

A little confused, he glanced over at me, careful not to take his eyes off the road.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've found each time we're together there's some sexual component," I chuckled. "This is pretty far from home, and you seemed very into it. I was just wondering what inspired this trip."

I was trying to avoid obviously ogling his reactions by shifting my eyes from him every few seconds. I had leaned against the door, surprised by just how tired I really was. He was doing that thing where he weighed his words again.

Eventually, he shrugged. That softness returning to his features from before, he began, "To be honest, (y/n)..."

Please, don't break my heart, I begged to that beautiful man.

Actually turning his head entirely to me, he spoke through a delicate smile, "I just wanted to look at the stars with you."

Goddammit.

The stars returned to my eyes, and I could see them reflected in his. My heart sped up to prepare for the panic as I realized that it was definitely too late for us. Because his efforts were working. They had been working all along, and I never tried to stop them.

As I drifted off to sleep in the comfortable silence of our company, I couldn't ignore the obvious:

I think I'm in love with Spencer Reid and I think he's starting to love me, too.

But we couldn't just love each other in isolation, and I wasn't sure he was ready to make that leap with me. In fact, I knew he wasn't. I still knew basically nothing about him, and he knew virtually nothing about me. How could it be then, that our souls felt so at home with each other?

Which would hurt more? Finding out he didn't love me, or that he did... and just wishes he didn't?

—————————————————

| Part 6 |

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part TWENTY-FOUR

This post is so late because I accidentally took a several hour nap and then it went and got a Little Convoluted, including a page that might’ve gone in a supplementary post except that I wanted it HERE, for REASONS

Warning for Fantasy Religious Imagery, which is sometimes based on Christian religious imagery because it’s Legend of Zelda and the magic book from the first game was literally just a Bibble in the Japanese

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

I'm setting up for a boss fight here and I want to go a little into the idea that Lorule Castle Town and Lorule Castle are effectively being approached like a "final dungeon" here (technically at this point my brain has assigned CoRA itself as "first half of game" and whatever I call the sequel as "Second half of game" but that's not the point)

Which actually I'm gonna real quick go into MORE of the basic "gameplay" that exists in my head if CoRA was ACTUALLY a game instead of this increasingly convoluted fanfic that I've been having Emotions over, just because I've been thinking about it and it's how I'd be plotting shit here.

Basically the MAJORITY of the gameplay would be Link running around adventuring, like any LoZ.  Different greater regions would be their own discrete overworlds with a few points here and there where you could cross between them, not like portals or anything just like mountain passes and shit.  (I think since we're going full jrpg with the story the sequel would probably feature an airship worldmap.  Don't ask me how Link gets an airship I just cut going into the Rito captain that decides he's in love with Marla for time!)

But THEN there would be sections that functioned like Hyrule Warriors, with a team of characters that you could switch between.  These would be signaled by phrases like, "Okay, Link, tell us what you need us to do."  Some would be specific dungeons and some would be based on chunks of the map that had been sliced out, like how in Age of Calamity a lot of the mini missions used chunks of the chapter mission maps.  Technically the Tutorial Dungeon from Hell would work somewhat like this EXCEPT that Astramorus isn't your team member, he's an "allied" unit you don't have to protect because he hangs back tossing heal items and fairies at Link.  

The first REAL time you'd get a taste of having team members would be basically a minigame with Tonbo and Marla and all playable characters would have segments that let you get a handle on how they worked.  Gray's would actually be a training mission where he's kind of showing off for Link because Zelda Jr. is egging him on.  (See thinking about this like a game REALLY helps with the story writing lmao)

During the solo segments while Tonbo and Marla are travelling with Link, btw, they'd be wandering around cities or towns as NPCs Link can have conversations with, including one with Marla that would be sparked by examining the statue of the Fierce Deity in Clocktown Town Square but which would be presented as Marla seeking Link out.  This is because I love party chat.

[image description: A below shot of a statue of Fierce Deity Link.  He is lit by a lantern with fairy wings to the side, and there are strings of lights behind him and a dark roof above.  Link and Marla are looking up at him as Link explains, “The Hylia Church holds that he was one of my-- One of the Goddess’s Chosen Heroes.  The local faith holds that he came in the form of a child but with the soul of an adult, that he went on to take the forms of dead loved ones and dead heroes in Termina, that he had powers upon powers and skill upon skill, that he was many places at once over three days, helping and rescuing and working, and that he awoke the Four Giants of the land and pushed the moon back into the sky.”  Link holds himself.  “I can’t POSSIBLY live up to all that,” he says.  Marla is holding some sort of wrapped food she’s taken a bite out of.  She says, “Do you WANT to live up to all that?  Also if he came in the form of a CHILD why’s he depicted as this big manly man chonk?”  End ID.]

Also in general all playable characters's levels, hearts and general development would just be, haha, LINKED to Link's.  I know a lot of people enjoy managing all their characters but I'm thinking about Final Fantasy 9 and how every time you go to a town everyone just wanders off and I never know if I'm gonna actually be able to GIVE characters their equipment or if the party's gonna get broken up by Story again.  I think a lot of the flow feel to the system I've just outlined would be similar to that so I don't think the non-Link members of the party should be something a player would have to worry about upkeep with.  Also yes in that same line everyone would automatically be healed and have a full magic meter at the beginning of the team segments.

Anyway for this particular party mission Queen Zelda would actually initially try to talk Link out of it.  "Absolutely not," he says, "I'm going and Father is too, we deserve answers and if you end up having to blow Serenumbra up this is the only chance we'll have at getting them."

(Zelda Sr's like.... "I didn't blow your father UP...")

Ghirahim is also champing at the bit to go fuck Serenumbra up, because he's fucking furious to have realized that Serenumbra was chessmastering him.  Dinravi and Eltani are going both as support and because everyone but Ghirahim agrees that Ghirahim needs someone to act as his restraint.

[Image Description: Ghirahim is waving his hands angrily and ranting, "And the WORST PART is now I have to save HYLIA'S BROOD just to SPITE him!" while Dinravi pats him on the shoulder with a grin, saying "There, there."  End ID.]

I don’t know why Ghirahim’s hands always turn out so amazing, actually, I’ve always thought of hands as one of my strengths but it feels like CoRA’s Ghirahim is one panel of pretty hands after another.

ANYWAY it’s a smallisher team because the main loftwings they have that can make that trip again after having rushed from Gerudo City to Hyrule Castle are the unusually large ones like Hera, and those are fairly rare.  The main characters I’m absolutely sure on are Link and Astramorus, Dinravi Ghirahim and Eltani, and of course Queen Zelda and Impa.  Gray wants to go but he can’t because health potions don’t work as fast on injuries quite as severe as a stabbity in the torso and whether Marla and Tonbo come along is actually something I’m not explicitly solid on yet, because this is Draft 0.5 and I can still change my mind at this point. 

And one of the things is that in this mission Astramorus essentially functions as a helper character chasing after Link with health potions just like in the Tutorial Dungeon From Hell, except he’s a lot quieter about it.

Because of this and because Link is the main character, they’re together when they find Serenumbra first:

[Image description: Serenumbra is in the middle of a ceremonial setup; in the middle are he with a book stand and behind him a statue of Hylia.  On either side are symmetrical stone beds, the left below an upright Hyrulean Triforce and the right below a flipped Lorulean Triforce.  Princess Zelda is laid on the left side and Princess Hilda on the right; they are dressed in simple gowns and seem to be unconscious.  The beds were clearly made exactly for Hilda’s height, as Zelda is too short for hers.  They are laid in state reminiscent of the way the sleeping Zelda was in Adventure of Link.  Between this scene and the viewer are two figures with swords, although the nature of them is unclear; they could be people wearing horned masks.  Serenumbra says, “Ah, Astra.  You’re ALIVE.  What a SURPRISE.”  Astramorus and Link are standing side by side.  Astramorus says, “So you DID know what I was planning to do.”  Serenumbra makes the smuggest possible face.  “Oh PLEASE, dear friend, I’ve been winding you up to see what you’ll do since you were FIFTEEN- a little NUDGE in the right direction was as good as telling you to do it!”  End ID.]

Okay but looking at that Smug Serenumbra face I actively wanna punch him until he loses a few teeth so I think I’ve succeeded at drawing it.  The soldiers are actually intended to be Armos because I like the Armos and I think they should show up in Botw2. (I’m kind of hoping we’ve already seen one in that more recent trailer but they don’t look anything like these buddies; I’m talking about that big turquoise dude.)

Anyway we all know this ceremony isn’t going to work.  The Armos keep Link and Astramorus off of Serenumbra long enough for him to try it, and it just fuckin fizzles.  Zelda and Hilda sleep right through the whole thing (they’re uh, you know, under a spell, so they’d sleep through quite a lot.)

[Image Descriptions: Serenumbra is gripping his book and staring into it, demanding of the pages, “WHY isn’t it WORKING?!!”  Astramorus says, off-panel, “It’s pretty SIMPLE, Seren-”  He is shown to have his hands on Link’s shoulders as if to brace him, as Queen Zelda breaks the doors behind them down with a BOOM, Ghirahim coming up behind her with a grin.  Link and Astramorus shout together: “YOU HAVE THE WRONG ZELDA!!”  Serenumbra stares at them, his glasses opaque, as apparently something in his mind breaks with a “SNAP!”  He then smiles serenely.  “Very well,” he says, as the Moon Pearl on his chest begins to glow, flooding the room with blue.  “Let us see how you fare against a GOD’S NIGHTMARE.”  Before him, on what had appeared to be a circular rug, something black and gaseous seems to seep into reality.  It has glowing white eyes.  End ID.]

[certifiedceraunophile]

Hi! A fan of your writing here. I just love the way you write Caroline. An Avoidable Heart is my comfort fic and I am constantly in awe with the way you write and craft the dynamics in that story. Caroline's inner monologue is just priceless and God! I just love that intro scene where Caroline is walking into the Mikaelson compound with vampires and hybrids in the surrounding ready to pounce on her.

I would love to hear how you would have visualized Caroline crossing over into TO or not? Like in what season and why? How it would have likely gone?

Thank you!

First of all lovely anon gimme a moment to breathe, asdfghjkl why are people so lovely 😭😭🥺✨ It means sooo much to me that you’d take the time to jump into my inbox and send these kind words, like please I’m not worthyyyyy, But you make me smile and feel really freaking warm so *handcuffs your hand to mine* you aint leaving 💖✨💞🙃

But OK ALSO oh my god dude THAT CAROLINE WALTZS INTO THE COMPOUND AND TAKES ON A COUPLE HUNDRED VAMPIRES BY HERSELF SCENE???? Ughhhhh I’m sorry but I have SUCH a boner for Caroline in that, like my badass -I admit kinda op- QUEEN IS HERE and she’s fucking shit up, I’m sorry but I love that scene so much it’s so dear to me I was killing myself over how self-indulgent and grossly Over powered Caroline is but like idgaf man it’s such a hot scene and Caroline is practically invincible and we just love to see that, so seriously lovely anon, you telling me you LOVE that scene??? Puts the biggest smile on my face and reassures me a LOT bc I was whining and cribbing over how absolutely unbalanced that scene is to literally everyone BUT LIKE YOU JUMPING OUT OF NOWHERE and pointing that exact scene UGHH…...meant to fucking be the both of us 💖💞✨

And ALSO Caroline’s monologue is quite honestly the easiest inner monologue out of the three voices I wrote for that work, Klaus’s is the real pain in the ass tbvh like it is NOT easy writing pretentious besotted losers with a Kardashian complex especially when you need to make them sound cool when they’re the lamest OP dude bros to ever exist - and no I don’t hate Klaus although I seem to try my darndest to convince ppl I do- I just personally believe that a feral fucker like that with a thousand years of existence under his belt can grow a pair and graduate from his kindergarten level of emotional maturity to adult sometime soon, But then on the flipside he’s so grossly adorkably smitten and feral for Caroline plus hella horny for her all the time that its usually easy to write the trashed and devoted idiot he is into something pretentious and powerful and potent when relating to his unflappable arrogance and his narcissism, but sometimes I also need him to be *deep* and ffs profound for the sake of the plot and jfc my muse just wont work with me on that, she’s like I’m sorry I’m not about to bust my ass to make this mongrel intelligible like no sir all I wanna do is make him uncomfortably horny for Caroline and leave him like that.

So smh yeah the struggle is real….but lmao Caroline is just so precious and fiercely protective and just so achingly lonely in that story, so desperate for connection and trust and intimacy yet so guarded and impervious to everyone like it hurts me to write her like that but it really challenges me as an author to balance out her inherent light with the “void” I create in her and through her, so yeah it’s a very fulfilling task and I wouldnt change it one bit, and also I had to balance out her physical op-ness w half a millennium of the ugliest emotional trauma lol so I guess that figures, but the point being….once again I am overjoyed knowing that you liked a facet of the story that I tried so hard to make as authentically Caroline and achingly real and moving as I can and I cannot possibly feel more accomplished than rn for it so ty ty ty ty for reaching out to me and telling me *tackle hugs* It makes me GIDDY knowing that you enjoyed that particular part of the story like ugh stab me please you're too sweet.

And ok NOW, coming to The Originals part of the ask, (also please note that when I say TO headcanon; Hope does not exist, Hayley is a dead in a ditch and ofc Klaus will stop being that lil bitch they tried to pawn off as Klaus in TO) 

HEADCANON 1

Honestly my biggest headcanon when it comes to TO crossovers somehow always include non-humanity!Caroline like it’s just so perfect to me?? The opportunity to make shit BLOW UP b/w them like imagine the DEBAUCHERY, the heat, the SEXUAL TENSION, the repression of one Klaus Mikaelson, the EXPLORATIONS, and omg the role reversal when Klaus has to be the voice of moral reason between them and not bc he believes Caroline would not be able to stand herself if she does something heinous and monstrous but bc he wants her to be completely and utterly herself, and yk *aware*, when she DECIMATES ppl to the ground and is in full-on predator mode, like he wants her monster to come out and play with him when no part of Caroline is locked away or suppressed, so obviously when she is w/o her humanity KLAUS exercises restraint on her behalf, like can you imagine that, Klaus restraining himself and being the vague, extremely broken and just largely inaccurate moral compass between the two of them for ALL the wrong reasons- and the entirety of NOLA just standing there watching him herd this baby vampire who seems to be intent on riling him up and angering him when all she is doing is giving him a massive hybrid hard on, like IMAGINE THE GOODNESS of non-humanity Caroline wrecking NOLA and Klaus letting her wreck it bc he is helpless in the face of Caroline Forbes and also bc he is quite honestly *enjoying* the debauchery himself so why put a damper on the festivities.

-I might wanna add that I favour this headcanon a lot bc I genuinely do not even remotely *like* the idea of NOLA as Klaus's chosen place to set his roots so like I would love Caroline going to NOLA and destroying everything there just bc I detest NOLA and the storyline behind it in TO. (yes is it petty? Obvi, but like I am a petty soul and I make no apologies ma’am)

HEADCANON 2

So yeah that’s my main TO headcanon, but my other one being, one I talk about very frequently, scream about in tag rants to an obsessive level, and like this is a cracky one but still very valid, where Caroline rolls up to NOLA humanity intact and all, finds Hayley preggo and is just laughing her fucking ass off bc anybody ANYBODY, with half a brain and a two minute convo w klaus would know how UTTERLY stupid the entire baby shit is especially when it’s with an immemorable one night stand, and Caroline’s just losing her shit about how like an entire city is obssessed w this baby and she just straight up tells Klaus he’d SUCK as a dad (which he really does tho like he was a shitty fucking dad canonically too) and Klaus is just like *sigh* girl tell me about it. I mean basically he’s finally relieved that someone is on his side about the whole baby thing and how he definitely does not want his entire millennium of life to finally sum up to this one squalling leaking stinky infant/unicorn Hayley is apparently baking in her oven, and I say this headcanon is cracky bc klaus would never have put up w this mess long enough for Caroline to come in and sort it out, there’s this preferred method of disposal of his called heart ripping that would've been employed quite early on and honestly saved us all a lot of brain cells and minused years of life, bc let’s be real any Klaus who’s NOT a lil snivelling bitch wearing a Klaus skinsuit would’ve yeeted the baby and the mama first chance he got, and that’s just how I see it.

Lmao I really hope I didnt scare you away w my *strong* opinions Ik they can be a bit much but I enjoy having them so theyre not going anywhere, anyways this ask answer got WAYYYY too long but I’m hoping I answered your question well with this or atleast left you slightly confused and bemused over my feral screaming....either ways I’m really really really happy to have got your ask and the chance to rant so much bs, Twas cathartic and honestly I had nothing to do today so I was more than happy to dish this baby out for you. Thank you so much sweet anon for putting a smile on my face today I am absolutely HONOURED by your words you’sa cutie 💖💞✨🗣🗣

[squadrablog]

ok I've joined the Ghiaccio hype train, could I request a Ghiaccio fic with a reader who doesn't like sudden loud noises and will definitely cry if you yell at them? they're really intimidated by Ghiaccio but they're comfortable with the rest of La Squadra, so he's struggling to be a good team member to someone who's always nervous around him. feel free to make it romantic or platonic, your writing is amazing!! 💕💕

Here you are! With the stuff I ended up focusing on I thought that shoehorning a romance in would feel weird, so I focused more on exploring the beginnings of a platonic friendship with him. Lots of awkward Ghiaccio and miscommunication but it all ends up good. :^)

Ghiaccio & Reader (platonic, gender neutral)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 3921

Warnings: Reader has childhood trauma w/ loud noises, not gone into in depth. Assassination job implied but doesn’t happen in text.

Under cut for length!

The last thing you saw yourself doing with your life was becoming an assassin, but here you were. You were a tough kid, scrappy and resourceful when it came down to it, but only because you had to be to get by. You always thought you’d eventually leave that old life behind. The gunshots echoing into the night from rival mafias squaring off to claim the neighborhood you lived in as their territory. The shouts from the man who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, only to berate you when you failed to pick enough pockets to meet his quotas. The way the older and meaner children would torment you, taunt and deride you, whenever you let your vulnerability show.

And you had, more or less, left those parts of it behind at least. When you joined Passione as a last ditch effort to survive you were given a sense of stability that you had never had before, and after initiation when your stand manifested as something powerful and deadly, it didn’t take too long for you to get placed into La Squadra di Esecuzione, Passione’s team of elite assassins. 

As a stand user working with other stand users you rarely relied on guns to get your work done. You were no longer struggling to get by, and although your new Capo held his team to high standards he made sure you had ample training and was patient with you while you were still getting your footing. All your teammates were surprisingly supportive; even if they were wary of outsiders, when it came to their own family they looked out for each other.

It was a dangerous life, not without its own anxieties, but it was a much quieter life. It was a life in the shadows, with a roof over your head, with work that allowed you to use stealth and silence. Even if you couldn’t exactly say you were thrilled about being an assassin you were at least surrounded by people who genuinely cared about you now, watched over by a man who never raised his voice at you for things outside your control, and most comforting of all: you never needed to use a gun.

Not all loud noises set you off, just the ones that reminded you of the violent instability of your childhood and the cruelty of your guardian and peers. Your new teammates could get pretty noisy and spirited, but the boisterous and jovial nature of their laughter, even from their more intense teasing, was a comforting change of pace. You didn’t doubt your value or the fact they respected you.

Well, mostly. There was one teammate who was a bit harder for you to let your guard down around.

His name was Ghiaccio, and to say he was loud would be an understatement. When you first met him he had been a bit standoffish, but so were Risotto and Prosciutto. You knew it would take some time for everyone to accept you as a real part of the squad, and you were ready to be patient. But as you quietly observed everyone for those first few weeks, getting a feel for their individual personalities and their dynamics with each other, you found yourself very intimidated by Ghiaccio. He was able to pal around with the rest of them, even if he was gruff as a default, but when something upset him it was like a switch had been flipped.

He was critical of his squadmates’ performance out in the field, and he never hesitated to offer his critiques regardless of how little anyone wanted to hear them. He was critical of the way people talked, constantly nitpicking everyone’s pronunciations and word choice. He was critical of the way that chores around the house got done, judging everyone’s efforts by timeliness and thoroughness.

Everyone was able to brush him off most of the time without problem. When they actually valued what he had to say they never seemed to take the mean way he said it personally. They’d had plenty of time to get used to him and sift through the bullshit. They knew when something actually mattered to him and when something was just him blowing off steam for the sake of it. They knew when it was fair to ask him to shut up and when it was best to let him get it out of his system.

You steeled yourself as best as you could in those first few weeks, just telling yourself you needed some time to understand his quirks like the rest of your squad did, but your opinion changed immediately after your first mission with him.

“Is Prosciutto teaching you anything?” he barked out at you after you two finally managed to take out your hit. You flinched and looked away from his intense gaze. You were a bit anxious about being alone with him for the first time, and you wanted to give him your best effort to impress him, but being on so on edge caused you to make some big mistakes.

“Well?” he demanded when you said nothing. You had assumed it was a rhetorical question.

“Y-yes?” you stuttered out.

“Then you’re the one accountable for fucking up today. What the hell was that?” he asked, his question ending in something similar to a snarl.

Something that was different about working with Ghiaccio as opposed to working with the others was that he argued out loud to no one in particular about random topics that pissed him off. At first you thought he was expecting you to talk to him about how nonsensical some phrase was that Formaggio used before the two of you left, and you listened attentively, but he never gave you any room to respond. Eventually you realized he wasn’t really conversing, just yelling to yell. It was very distracting and it only made you fidget and lose focus.

“I… well…” you choked out. “It’s usually quieter… on my missions, since my stand is- well, since my stand is made for stealth and-”

“Me talking prevented you from doing your job correctly?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You just shrunk even deeper within yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was insinuate your mistake had been his fault. There was no way that wouldn’t provoke his ire.

“N-no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me, I’m really sorry! It won’t happen again!” you squeaked out.

“Better not,” he grumbled sarcastically with a huff before turning to walk down the street towards his car. You followed, keeping a good distance behind him, not looking forward to the ride back to the base.

---

That had been weeks ago. While you had been doing a decent job at tolerating Ghiaccio before that mission, afterwards was a different story. You actively avoided him, checking if he was in rooms before entering, excusing yourself when he came into a room you were already in, shutting yourself in your room upstairs when you heard him start up on a rant somewhere on the main floor.

Eventually it was shamelessly (or perhaps shamefully) obvious to just about everyone.

“Dude, what happened on your mission with them?” Formaggio asked in a hushed tone one time after your footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. “They’re terrified of you.”

“How the fuck should I know? They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Ghiaccio shot back.

“Uh, yeah, duh. That’s what I’m saying. They won’t even sit in the same room as you,” Formaggio muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said, scrunching up his eyebrows. “But it’s not like they talk much to begin with.”

“Are you kidding?” Illuso interjected, inserting himself into his two teammates’ conversation, much to Ghiaccio’s annoyance. “I can get them to prattle on for hours about themself. They’re a real chatterbox once you get to know them.”

“Illuso, dude, have they told you the story about their mission with Pesci down at the wharf?” Formaggio asked with a big grin.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that,” Illuso replied with a chuckle. “What about the time where-”

“Hey! Shut up for a second,” Ghiaccio snapped. “We’re all talking about the same person, right?”

Upon being interrupted Illuso narrowed his eyes at Ghiaccio before turning to Formaggio. “It’s obviously because of Ghiaccio’s poorly controlled rage. Have you ever seen the poor thing freeze up over a gunshot before?”

“No, but I can imagine. One time I tried scaring them from behind and it took them ten whole minutes to recover,” Formaggio responded.

“I haven’t done shit to them, what possible reason do they have to be scared of me?” Ghiaccio asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, what happened on that mission?” Formaggio asked again.

“It was pretty standard, I killed the bastard while they assisted. They did fuck up pretty bad, which is typical during training, so I pointed it out for their benefit. Then we left,” Ghiaccio recounted. “Nothing else happened.”

Formaggio raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know! I think I asked if Prosciutto was doing his job right since they didn’t seem too confident. I asked if there was anything that might have contributed to their lackluster performance, but after thinking it over they said that it was on them.”

“Sounds pretty level headed and analytical of you,” Illuso said, stroking his chin. “Are you sure that’s how you said it?”

“Probably not in so many words, I was probably more casual about it,” Ghiaccio grumbled. “Why does it matter how I said it? What’s important is what I said.”

“Ghiaccio, your brand of casual is a few decibels above what’s average,” Illuso said.

“Not to mention the casual expletives, or the casual sarcasm,” Formaggio added. “Are you sure you didn’t casually tell them to go fuck themself without realizing it?”

“No! I mean, if I was stern with them it was in the context of training!” Ghiaccio insisted.

“Are we being trained right now? Is that why you’re yelling at us?” Illuso asked with a smirk.

“This is just how I talk!” Ghiaccio said, bringing a hand up to his temple. “Ugh, I don’t fucking know! Maybe I yelled at them? I remember being very straightforward. They seemed kind of on edge, but I just assumed that’s how they always are!” He dropped his hand and turned to look at his two teammates. “Are they really not like that on missions with you?”

“Not anymore,” Illuso said with a shrug. “At first a bit, but they’re pretty reliable now.”

“You’ve got to go slow with them. They’re easily set off, but if they know they can count on you they’re able to push through it,” Formaggio said.

“My stand is invincible and I never even let the guy near them. There’s no one better suited for watching someone’s blind spot than me,” Ghiaccio said with his hand splayed out on his chest.

“I mean, like… emotionally,” Formaggio said, scratching the back of his head. “If I was to put myself in their headspace I’d say they probably think you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” Ghiaccio spat loudly.

“Good! Now step two is letting them know that,” Illuso said, clapping a hand on Ghiaccio’s back, causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

Ghiaccio grumbled and pushed his glasses back up. He knew that things were weird between the two of you ever since your mission, but it never even crossed his mind it was because of something he said. Is this what Prosciutto felt like training Pesci? But even Pesci had never been avoidant or scared of Prosciutto for all the tough love that he gave him. Pesci looked up to him like an older brother.

If he was really the only one in all of La Squadra that you were uncomfortable around, then he supposed it was on him now to figure out why.

---

The base was pretty quiet today, with a lot of missions landing on Risotto’s desk this week. While you were quite fond of your new teammates you liked having the common area all to yourself on a quiet evening, especially if you were curled up with a novel. When you first started living at the base it felt like a luxury, but even after you had gotten used to the quiet its novelty hadn’t worn off for you.

The sound of a key jingling at the front door had you peeking over your book. When Ghiaccio appeared framed by the living room entrance you held your breath. Hopefully he’d be going upstairs… no, it looked like he was coming into the common area. That’s okay, you could move, so you started standing up, except… he was looking right at you, heading in your direction.

“Sit down,” he said stiffly, and after a beat he added, “Please?”

“Uhh! Okay!” you said, sitting back down and bringing your book right back up to cover your face.

“Can you also, uh. Please. Put the book down?” Ghiaccio said, his voice strained to maintain a monotone and flatten out any inflection. You did as he asked, although you still couldn’t meet his eyes, and he just stared at you awkwardly.

“Uh-”

“Hello,” he said, and it left his mouth at the exact same time your muttered exclamation had. Another awkward pause.

“Hi?” you said, unsure. This wasn’t what you were expecting from your next conversation with the man, for as long as you had postponed it. You thought he’d be demanding to know why you were ignoring him, or getting on your case about being too sensitive to handle his criticism on your last mission. Maybe that was yet to come?

“You are afraid of me,” Ghiaccio stated flatly. Then perhaps he realized he wanted to ask it as a question. “Yes?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” you muttered.

“Of course you are,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could mumble out an excuse. You got pretty embarrassed by that, but you swallowed and moved your eyes up to gauge his expression. He didn’t look angry, but he looked hyper focused to the point of distress. His lips were pressed together tightly as if he was trying to hold back from speaking again.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For being scared of me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He was being sarcastic again, wasn’t he?

“No, I… I mean… I’m sorry for,” you started, trying to think of something legitimate to actually be sorry about. “For fucking up on the mission.”

“Did fucking up on the mission really bother you that much?” he said. Not only were you stupid for fucking up the mission, but you were also stupid for letting it bother you for so long! What did he want you to say?

“No, I mean…”

But Ghiaccio cut you off with a long loud exhale. “Look, I’m not great at this kind of thing. I understand that I make you anxious, and I understand that for whatever reason it’s hard for you to talk to me, but I really can’t understand what people say unless they drop all the bullshit.” When you frowned and looked away he tried again. “Not bullshit, fuck, uh. No, not fuck... It’s just that. I need you to say exactly what you mean. I can’t tell what people are thinking unless they make it… easy for me.”

You looked back at him. Whatever he was here to talk about with you, he was trying very hard not to raise his voice. The way he was talking to you was too stilted to be anything but intentional. If he was doing this for your sake, then you would try to meet him halfway. You took a moment to think, to choose what you wanted to say carefully.

“I don’t do well with loud noises. I also… take things very personally. I’ve been worrying that you…” You took another second before committing. “...Hate me.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line again as some noise tried to escape his throat, perhaps an instinctive denial. “What about me makes you think that?”

“Well… you seemed pretty disappointed in me after the mission.”

“I was checking in with you. I wanted to make sure Prosciutto was properly training you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But… but you sounded really angry and sarcastic.”

Ghiaccio closed his eyes and thought about that for a second. “I probably was angry, but not at you. You just fucked up on something so basic that I had to wonder if Prosciutto was actually teaching you anything useful.”

“That’s… not how you said it though,” you said, feeling defensive. “I… I know I did something dumb… but I’ve never messed up with my stand like that before. It was different on that mission.”

“Me talking to myself?” Ghiaccio asked. He had been fixating over what he said to you at the end of that mission for days now, trying to remember all the details. He recalled how you had started with one explanation, but you quickly retracted it.

“You were… so angry the entire mission,” you complained. “Everyone else is quiet on missions with me because my stand is better suited to it.”

“It wasn’t a stealth mission,” Ghiaccio countered. “We were using your stand for something different. I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“I know!” you groaned. “You weren’t trying to distract me, but when things get too loud I…”

“But you took it back. You said it wasn’t me,” Ghiaccio said, leaning forward. His voice had risen just a little, but when he noticed how you reacted to that he tensed up.

“I took it back because I was afraid of upsetting you!” you said, leaning back into the couch as far as you could. “Because when I brought it up… you were mean about it… so I took it back! I thought you were trying to tell me it was my fault, so I took the blame like I thought you wanted!”

“I was… I was asking for clarification! If I did something that caused you to fuck up then I want to know that I did so we can talk about it!” He was clenching his fists to keep his upward inflections from becoming full-blown yelling.

“None of that came across!” you complained. “Like… maybe you technically said those things, but the way you said made it come across completely different!”

“What about you? Now you’re telling me that you meant something completely different from the things you actually said to me!?”

“I-I… but I was obviously upset! I was obviously just trying to appease you!”

“How was it obvious? I thought you were upset because you fucked up! No one likes fucking up!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” You realized at this point that your own voice was starting to rise, which was making Ghiaccio raise his to match yours, and you took a deep breath before speaking calmly again. “I was upset because I was afraid.”

It was quiet again for a little while until Ghiaccio broke the silence.

“Being mean and angry comes really easy to me,” he said, running his fingers through his curls. “Even when I don’t realize it, I still am. Even if I think I’m being reasonable, people misunderstand. I’ve been so used to the others actually being able to take it that I forgot how bad it was.” He scratched at his head a bit. “I also have a hard time telling how loud I actually am until someone points it out.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking that in, before you gave a small amused huff with a half-smile on your face. “I’m not great with loud noises because of what they mean to me. Gunshots remind me of a time when I wasn’t safe… but I can protect myself now, and I have other people who will protect me too. But yelling reminds me of… how I was never good enough for anyone.” You tapped your fingers on the cover of the book on your lap and shrugged.

“I hear from the others that you’re really skilled and reliable on missions,” Ghiaccio said. “I didn’t see that from you when we worked together, but maybe that’s because I was the one who fucked up.”

“But you didn’t...” you started.

“I fucked up by not meeting you where you were at. You’re new. I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re like. If we had talked beforehand, if I had worked with you, then you probably wouldn’t have made that mistake. I was taking the lead on that mission, it was my job to train you to use your stand in an unfamiliar circumstance. I use missions to get out all the shit that makes me angry, since I don’t need to stay quiet. You don’t work like that. You had no idea what I was yelling for. I never told you how I do things, I just expected you to brush it off like everyone else does.”

You blinked a few times. You had been pretty quick to blame yourself for your own shortcomings, but hearing him say that really recontextualized that entire mission experience.  You might have fucked up, but it was now obvious that he did not hold it against you. “That’s surprisingly self-aware of you.”

He rolled his eyes and set his elbow on the couch’s armrest, plopping his head on his fist. “You don’t know me either. I’m more than a raving heartless bastard. Stuff like this… not understanding why other people think the way they do, or what I’m doing wrong… it really fucks me up. I don’t hate you. You’re a part of my family now and I genuinely want to help you get stronger. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Ghiaccio was nothing like you thought. He was actually really sensitive and introspective. You could tell it was hard for him to confront you like this, almost as hard as it was for you to be confronted. You appreciated that he wanted to put in the effort to have a relationship with you.

“Thank you Ghiaccio. And I’m sorry I avoided you instead of trying to talk about it like this.” You reached over and placed your hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile. He seemed taken aback by the contact, but he relaxed after a moment.

“Are we… good?” he huffed out.

“I think so!”

He let out one long exhale that seemed to go on forever. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, before turning to look at you. “Goddamn it, sorry.”

“It’s not the swearing that bothers me,” you clarified. “It’s the intention behind it. You’re… uh… fucking good, my dude.”

He let out a snort at the awkward way you said that before bringing his hand up to cover his face, looking away in embarrassment.

“Aw, no, that was cute,” you assured him, which only made it worse.

“Well, if we’re done here then I’m heading to bed,” he said, and you glanced at the clock in the living room. It had gotten pretty late. He stood up and started walking towards the stairs.

“We have a mission together again this weekend, right?” you asked, and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. And you meant it. “Goodnight!”

“...Night,” he said, before he disappeared around the corner.

[loufuckers]

when she talks (i hear the revolution)

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catched her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

or

The one where Bobby and Reggie are lesbians and maybe Bobby should love herself a little bit more.

Read on AO3

for eris (@molinajulie) , who didn't ask for this but whom i love dearly. thanks for introducing me to this show and loving bobby as much as i do.

Bobbi's uncomfortable the moment she gets inside the club.

This isn't their usual scene and although it's not that different from the grimy, underground places Sunset Curve usually plays at, it's new enough that it has her constantly looking over her shoulder and jumping a little bit every time someone stands just a little too close.

After their last bassist, some dude named Austin who was just mediocre enough and a little too much of an asshole to Alex for anyone to truly care about him, had quit the band two weeks ago, Luke had insisted they do the club rounds, check what the L.A. music scene had to offer and hopefully snatch a new bassist for themselves before their next gig.

They've not been successful, so far. There's lots of talented bassists, this is L.A. after all, but they're either too enamored of their own bands to give their offer a chance, aren't into Sunset Curve's sound, or just straight up don't like the idea of being in a band with a woman. Bobbi doesn't care about men's comfort enough for her to be offended when they give her a once over with a frowned brow and ask Luke if he's sure that's the kind of band he wants to be part of, but when it's the girls who do it... Well that just hurts.

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catch her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

It doesn't make it any better, knowing, when she has to pitch her voice a couple octaves higher that usual when talking to a girl she doesn't know yet so they don't get scared of her or think she's flirting with them. And it sure as fuck doesn't make it better when bassists would rather stay with their shitty, dead-end bands playing underground clubs and illegal parties than be in a band with someone like Bobbi. With Bobbi.

"Did you came here to listen to the music, or are you here just to sulk at the bar and look into your beer like it killed your children?"

And well, Bobbi must have been too busy with her self deprecation time to realize someone sat next to her at the bar and was now looking at her. Not just someone, either, but a girl. A pretty girl.

"I don't have children," she says before she can stop herself, and maybe this is why she's still single even tho it's 2020 and lesbian bars and dating apps are a thing that exist.

"That's good to know," the girl says, and gifts Bobbi a bright smile dressed in red lipstick. "Hi, I'm Reggie Molina"

"Bobbi Wilson," Bobbi says, and fucking extends her right arm for a handshake like a dumbass.

"Nice to meet you, Bobbi," the girl, Reggie, chuckles shaking her hand. "So? Are you here to see a particular band or did you just came here to be sad? 'Cause I gotta say, if it's the second one you chose a terrible place for it."

Reggie is giving a pointed look at the crowd to prove her point, and she's right, of course. Some band is playing a Pearl Jam cover and the audience looks sweaty and a little bit gross from dancing all together and jumping to the beat of the music. Bobbi can't quite make it out with the dark red light situation the club has going on but she's sure she sees Alex by the right side of the stage talking to someone.

"Uh, no, not really. I'm in a band and we're missing a bassist for our next gig. We're supposed to be looking for someone to play with us but everyone seems..." She doesn't finish her thought but Reggie shoots her a look like she knows what she means.

"What's your band's name?" Reggie asks, taking a sip of her drink.

And wow, maybe Bobbi should practice her people skills because she didn't even notice Reggie already had a drink or the way she looks so pretty holding the straw between her red lips. She also got pretty hands, from what she can see of them holding the tall glass of her drink. They look soft but not too delicate, and Bobbi is definitely not looking at how long and slender her fingers are, absolutely not, sir.

"Uh, Sunset Curve?" She's not sure why she phrases it like a question but she hopes that it's just distracting enough so Reggie doesn't realize she went quiet because she was looking at her hands.

"Oh, shit, are you serious? I fucking love your music," Reggie says with another one of her open smiles. And Bobbi isn't looking, but she can see how pretty Reggie looks when she smiles like that. She has one of those smiles that make her do everything she can to keep seeing it. "I saw you guys play this club over at Sunset Boulevard last month, I think, you guys killed it. My sister definitely has a crush on your frontman, bought your demo and all."

Bobbi kinda hates the sound of her own laugh but she can help but laugh at Reggie's words. Girls having crushes on Luke is such an usual occurrence that they now count on the fact that most of their audience at any given point it's made up of teenage girls and young women who are there to see Luke bounce around the stage with his arms at full display. It's cute, honestly, how Luke gets all flushed when Alex and Bobbi joke about how he ought to take his shirt off on stage to see if that helps selling more tickets to their shows only for him to go on a rant about how 'it's about the music, you dorks'.

"She'll be happy to know he's single, then," Bobbi says between laughs.

"Oh, is he now?"

If Bobbi's heart skips a beat or two at the edge of interest in Reggie's voice she hopes it doesn't show on her face. Of course Reggie is interested in Luke, why wouldn't she.

"Is your drummer, too? Single, I mean."

"Uh, yeah, Alex's single," Bobbi says, her disappointment bleeding through her voice just a little bit. "He's gay, thought. Alex, I mean."

"What about the rhythm guitarist?" Reggie asks again, her smile a little darker and just on the edge of flirtatious, and Bobbi is sure she's imagining the way her eyes seem to give her a once over. "Is she single?"

Bobbi takes a long second to reply, suddenly hyper aware of the way Reggie's blue—so, so fucking blue—eyes are looking directly at her, how her left hand is so close to where Bobbi's is, right next to her beer that's most likely gone warm by now. She's suddenly aware of how close they are, how Reggie must have been closing their distance while they've been talking because now she can feel her breath just inches away from her lips, can even taste the fruity taste of whatever cocktail she's drinking.

"Yeah, I'm single," Bobbi says. It's barely more than a whisper, but Reggie hears it all the same if the way she gives her another one of those lopsided smiles and moves even closer to Bobbi are any indication.

They're so, so close now that Bobbi would have to barely move at all to kiss her. Actually, their lips are so close that they might as well be kissing right now because Bobbi can feel the way they move against hers when she speaks again.

"And what's you guys' policy of dating other band members?"  

"Uh, well, Luke and Alex dated for a while a couple years ago before they decided they liked each other as friends better," she replies. She's pretty sure she must look stupid right now, all cross eyed with how close they are and how she keeps trying to look at Reggie's mouth and eyes at the same time. "Why?"

"Well, you said you guys are looking for a bassist and I would like to audition for the position, but there's this really hot guitarist on the band, too, and I don't think I could play with her if I don't get to kiss her, too."

And Bobbi's brain is so haywire by now that one thing she says to this is, "I haven't even heard you play."

Reggie's face moves back just a couple inches as she laughs at Bobbi's words but she's frowning at the distance anyway, so used to feeling Reggie's lips just barely against hers as they speak.

"Then I'll guess you'll have to stick around and watch," Reggie says with a wink and kisses Bobbi.

It's hardly a kiss, to be honest, just a little more than a touch of lips and it's over so fast Bobbi can't even react to it and kiss her back. It nonetheless stuns Bobbi enough that she stands sat at her bar stool even as Reggie gives her another wink and starts walking towards the stage where another band is starting to set up for their own set, too dumbfounded to go after her and still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

[visceraah]

The sound of music

(aka i’m so sorry for naming it after a musical it has nothing to do with dkjsdjksdjk names are hard)

My gift for @anianthe for @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Rating- Teen cause i’m incapable of not writing wayyy more swears then are necessary-

WC- 2947

Ship- Just Virgil interacting w the other sides,, feel free to interpret romantically if you want!

Warnings- not really any! Remus shows up briefly so.. beware of that. and ig Virgil is also kinda mean bUT he does it affectionately.

AO3

-

“We’re having a movie night!”

Virgil blinked. Took off his his headphones which, unfortunately, hadn’t been playing anything- he wore them out of habit, sometimes- meaning he heard everything his stupid best friend just said.

“No, we aren’t.”

Roman flopped down on his bed without waiting for any indication it was okay, something Virgil was all too used to. “We are now.”

Virgil sighed heavily and pushed Roman with his foot, trying to roll him off the bed. He didn’t budge. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Pleaseeee?” Roman employed the puppy dog eyes and Virgil knew already this was a losing battle. Ugh.

“I get to pick the movie.”

Roman perked up immediately, coming to sit next to him. “Yes! Okay! Just- Disney?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, wondering if Roman was capable of consuming content made by anyone else. He was beginning to doubt it. “Nightmare Before Christmas, then.”

“Predictable.” Roman murmured smugly, and he elbowed him.

“You want this movie night or not?”

“Okay, okay! I yield!” Roman cried, clutching his ribs. Virgil was pretty sure he was more upset at the prospect of a cancelled movie night then the ‘pain’ he was overplaying right now.

“Okay.” Virgil agreed, smugly, and set the movie on.

He’d seen it a million times already, which for most people would only make it boring by now- but Virgil found comfort in familiar things. Plus, that animation! He could happily watch it a million more times- and, honestly, probably would.

That meant he had it memorised, though, and soon enough he was singing along to the introduction under his breath. He listened along contently, until an unfamiliar third voice joined the chorus, and he startled, looking to the side. “Roman?”

Roman stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. “... Hi.”

“Were you singing along?”

Romans eyes flicked between Virgil and the screen, where the movie was still playing, in confusion. “Yes, Dr Gloom? Look, I know what a downer you love to be, but these pipes can’t stay closed all the time! They need exercise- and, the world deserves- neigh, needs to hear them!”

Virgil huffed at the dramatics, although it was fond. “I never said it was a problem, Sir Sing-a-lot, I’m just surprised.”

“One, that’s not an insult and I’m absolutely using that,” Roman retorted, “And two… It’s Disney! One of their best! Do you really expect me to not know the words?”

Virgil snorted, but he had to admit, he couldn’t disagree with that. “Whatever, nerd.”

Roman gasped, somehow seeming more upset than when Virgil had elbowed him. Of course that’d be what got to him. “I am not! I’m a prince- a very princely prince! Not-”

“Whatever you say, prince of the nerds.” Virgil hummed out, smirking to himself. Maybe Roman bursting in out of nowhere wasn’t so bad… This time. He still hated surprises and would not be convinced to do this again. He said that every time

-

Being Romans best friend, unfortunately, had its side effects. One was unplanned, unannounced Disney marathons he had no choice but to roll with. Another was actually listening to his musicals so often he learned to like them, too.

For all he said about Hamilton being overrated (and Romans reaction was priceless every time), he had to admit it was good. A little fast for him to keep with, but he rarely sang along to his songs anyway, preferring to hum quietly unless he was really in the mood.

He liked keeping his music to himself, too- he didn’t want to annoy anyone, so he always wore headphones- but sometimes he just wanted to drown the world out, and they went to full volume. Worked a treat to drown everyone out, but plenty audible to everyone else in the room. Sometimes, though, they’d just have to live with it.

Today was one of those days, where Virgil didn’t want to speak to anybody and had the volume to show it. He was playing one of Princeys musicals, too, humming along to ‘my shot’ no matter how different it was to his normal taste. He nodded in acknowledgement as he passed Logan on his beeline for the fridge, planning on grabbing the easiest and least healthy snack possible.

Retreating with his bag of marshmallows in hand- he was pretty sure they weren’t meant to be in the fridge, but they were imaginary, so maybe nothing needed to go in the fridge. Holy shit.

He pulled the headphones back, opening his mouth to ask Logan's opinion, when he heard a sound that made him freeze in his tracks.

Logan was rapping along to himself. And well. Jesus, how had he forgotten about that? He stared, still in disbelief, and Logan awkwardly trailed off when he noticed his gaze. “Ah, you could hear me.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask… Doesn’t matter. Holy shit, Lo, you’re amazing.”

Logan flushed slightly, looking down at the table. “I simply have an appreciation of the genre, and Hamilton has some particular, uhm- how would you say? ‘Bangers’.”

Virgil laughed, slipping into the seat opposite him and taking the headphones off completely. “Dude, I’ve spent enough time with Roman to know having an ‘appreciation’ doesn’t mean you can pull something off.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly fighting back a smile. “I am not sure he’d appreciate you saying that.”

“Eh, I’ve said it to his face before- and will again.” Virgil dismissed, feeling his lips turn up as well. “Why don’t you do it more?”

Logan shrugged, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. “It is hardly a logical skill for me to have, so it simply… Hasn’t come up.”

“Ro doesn’t need an excuse for songs to ‘come up’ before he starts singing them.” Virgil pointed out, and Logan chuffed.

“No, he certainly doesn’t. But we are different people.”

Virgil laughed, nodding. “You could say that again.”

“Oh. Alright, we are differen-”

“It’s an expression, dude. Come on.” Virgil interrupted, sounding nothing but fond as Logan widened his eyes in realisation.

“A highly illogical one, but alright. I can add it to my flashcards to avoid further confusion.” He decided, pulling out his deck there and then to add to. He paused when he heard the crackling of a plastic bag pulled open, looking up as Virgil helped himself to a marshmallow. “Please do not tell me you intend on consuming that entire bag.”

“Maybe.” Virgil held it out, grinning now. “Want one?”

“A key ingredient is gelatin, created by boiling down a pig or cows bones, skin, ligaments or tendons.” Logan deadpanned, and Virgil almost threw the whole bag away in disgust before he remembered,

“But they’re imaginary!”

Logan titled his head. “I suppose so.”

“Actually, I was thinking…” Virgil began, curious about how the fridge actually worked. Soon enough Logan was in a full-fledged rant about mindscape food, and half of it went over his head, but he didn’t mind listening. It was interesting, after all.

-

Whatever concerns Virgil had about not bothering anyone with his music, the other sides didn’t share them. Roman didn’t hesitate to sing whatever came to mind as it came to mind, offering full renditions of his favourite musical tracks daily, Logan could be heard humming to himself as he worked, Remus had no restraint about… Anything, really, and this was no different, Janus wasn’t exactly considerate, and Patton- Patton was the worst at all.

He wandered the mindscape belting out whatever was in his head at the moment which, as a father figure, was always old, tacky, and bad. They’d learned to ignore it for the most part, but some of the songs he played… Some of them were just unforgivable. And, sitting on the couch as Patton tidied up a little, Virgil had left himself completely at their mercy.

“JOLENE-”

Virgil pulled his hoodie over his ears, wishing he’d brought his headphones. Or just not left his room. “Please, no.”

“Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeeeene, I’m begging of you please don’t take my man-”

“Pain, Padre. This is causing me physical pain.” Virgil groaned, slamming his head back in an attempt to make it all stop. Unfortunately, the sofa was soft, and he just bounced back. Eurgh.

“Awh, cmon kiddo! I’m just singing. You could always join me.” Patton chirped, rearranging the same jar for the fourth time in three minutes.

“I might die.” Virgil deadpanned, staring Patton dead in the eyes, and he giggled.

“Don’t be silly… Come on, my music isn’t that bad!”

Virgil couldn’t quite believe his ears. Maybe they were still bleeding from being subjected to Dolly Parton. “You listen to dad music.”

“Well, yeah, but what else did you expect from your pops-”

Virgil groaned louder, shaking his head. “I- whatever. When’d you even start listening to country music?”

“Nico likes it!” Patton replied, brightly, and Virgil bristled.

“That’s it, Thomas has to break it off.”

It took Patton a second to recognize Virgil was joking, and he started laughing. “Don’t be so judgy! I listen to your music- in fact, I quite like being cautious in the disco.”

“Oh my god.” Virgil pulled his hood down further over his eyes, the secondhand embarrassment hitting him full force. “You’re so old.”

“Now, I know I’m no spring chicken, but that’s hardly a nice thing to say-”

“We are all the same age.” Logan interjected as he walked through the room, gone before Virgil could try and drag the only other sane one around him to his aid.

“Look, Patt- I love you, but Dolly is too far.” Jesus, Virgil was spending too much time with Roman. Dramatic ultimatums weren’t his style at all.

“... How about Country Roads?”

“Jesus Christ.” Virgil sunk further back into the sofa, hoping it’d just swallow him and his smile.

-

“I wanna play a song.”

“Get your own headphones.”

“But yours are so loud, they’re basically speakers! You ever turn them up to full volume while they’re on? How loud are they? Oooh, reckon they could rupture your eardrums so blood would bubble out your ears and trail down your face-”

“Stop.” Virgil interrupted with a grimace, before Remus’ imagination could go anywhere gorier. They’d been at this for ten minutes and his answer hadn’t wavered once. “It’s a no, alright? Just… Go away.”

Remus huffed loudly and dropped onto the sofa next to Virgil. Great. “What do you want?”

“Hmmm… Oh, I can do a list!” Remus declared, and before Virgil could tell him please, god, don’t, he was off. “A pony- to disembowel so I can use its guts for ritual purposes, that one dick in a Russian erotica museum they claim is Rasputins and has magical fertility powers, for Barry Bee Benson to be real so I can fu-”

“Alright!” Virgil shuddered and disconnected his headphones. He didn’t know what Remus wanted to do with a literal bee, and he liked it that way. “There.”

Remus grinned a grin with far too many teeth, just a little too sharp, and Virgil rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever monstrosity he was about to hear.

 There’s some whores in this house, there’s some-

“You did not just play WAP!” Virgil punched Remus in the arm, pulling his headphones off “You- I swear to God, don’t do the dance.”

Remus was already halfway stood up and Virgil quickly pulled him back down. He’d never wanted Remus to stay sat next to him more in his life. (To be fair, it wasn’t something he felt often.)

“But I already know it!”

“Of course you do.” Virgil grumbled, glancing over at Remus. “Why do you have to play… This, up here?”

“Jannie’s kicked me out, you know how he is.”

Virgil blinked at him, regretting what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth. “If I get him to back off, will you keep your music to the dark side?”

“That’s not fun, though! Ooh, wait, Logan likes rap, doesn’t he? Reckon he’d like to see the dance?”

Virgil stared at Remus blankly. “Please, say that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t! If you wanna hear one, though… Ooh, ok. Two kids walk into a hospice- ”

“No.” Virgil interrupted again, although even he had to snort a little at how ridiculous it was. Even if it was also deeply, deeply twisted. “I- look, I’m gonna do it.”

Remus tilted his head further then looked natural. Virgil was pretty sure he heard a crack. “Thought you hated me and Double Dee.”

“I- I’m just doing this for my sanity, alright? And Logans.” Virgil snapped back, avoiding meeting his eyes.

Avoiding things didn’t work with Remus, though, and soon enough he was uncomfortably close, peering right at Virgil with that unsettling grin. “Awww, Purps is being nice to us.”

“Shut up.” Virgil hissed, sinking out before Remus could pry any further. Creativity was so pushy, Jesus.

-

Virgil shuddered. He hadn’t been in the dark side of the mindscape in years and, after so long of the bright upstairs, the dark walls felt a little claustrophobic. He just needed to make this quick.

He strode down the hallway, trying to squash the growing nervousness in his stomach. What was the worst that could happen?

… Literally the worst thing he could’ve asked himself, he realised, speeding up subconsciously. So much could go wrong, while he was down here, and he didn’t even know where Deceit was, what if he tripped and fell and broke something and nobody would-

Piano, faint, made him stop in his tracks.

He wasn’t really an expert in classical music, but this had to be one of the more famous pieces, because he’d definitely heard it before. It was good, though, Mozart or something. Pretty difficult, too.

Exactly the kind of pretentious shit Deceit would play, and kick Remus out to enjoy. (Although Virgil couldn’t really blame him for that second part). Emboldened now he knew he wasn’t alone, and could make some jokes about what a snob he was, Virgil entered the room the sound was coming from.

He paled, because in front of him sat Deceit. At a piano. Playing the song.

“Since when do you play.”

Deceit only glanced up at Virgil, the melody smooth even with the interruption. He hated to admit it, but it was impressive. “Things have been quiet. I had time.”

“Quiet? With Remus?”

“I made things quiet.” Deceit amended, shrugging nonchalantly. Knowing him, it had probably been meant to sound as murder-y as it did. Didn’t stop Virgil from shuddering, anyway, serving as the perfect reminder of just how desperately he wanted to leave.

“Alright, look- whatever plan or plot this is, or is covering up, I don’t care.”

Deceit sighed, looking up at Virgil without faltering the music once. Jesus, he actually was good. “You’re right, I’m incapable of having any interests whatsoever without there being some deep, sinister plot behind it. You’ve spotted my evil plan.”

“I- alright, sarcasm’s meant to be for something obviously not true! That could be true!” Virgil protested, already feeling like he was losing this.

Deceit just raised an eyebrow at him in response, and Virgil instinctively hissed back, feeling more and more like he was backed into a corner.

Deceit had the nerve to laugh at him. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to talk to anyone so- so-” Virgil groaned, glaring at Deceit. “Stop playing that stupid thing, would you?”

“Alright.” Deceit agreed, and Virgil waited. He kept waiting. The piano continued and after an excruciating minute of listening for an end, he cursed. Why had Virgil assumed he’d be honest?

“Dick.”

“That is my legal name.” Deceit agreed dryly, and Virgil rolled his eyes. He was impossible to talk to.

“Look, just let Remus back down. He’s probably scarring Logan as we speak.”

Deceit smiled at the thought, looking back down at the keys as he played them. “I never said he couldn’t be down here. Oh, and I’m sure there’s /nothing/ about ‘scarring’ Logan that could’ve appealed to him.”

“What, so Remus lied?” Virgil crossed his arms. Remus was plenty of things, but one of them was painfully, brutally, upfront and honest. “That’s your thing.”

“Not lied.” Deceit tutted, like scolding a child for not knowing something they should have. Virgil clenched his fists. “Just… Was dramatic.”

Virgil tried to figure out what he meant before realising it meant literally nothing, and he glared at Deceit. “Stop being so cryptic for five seconds and tell me, Jesus.”

“I wasn’t aware you cared about him so much.” Deceit smirked, and Virgil threw his arms up in exasperation.

“I’m trying to get rid of him!”

Deceit snickered but finally, mercifully, seemed to have already had his fun. “I didn’t tell him to get out if he couldn’t just be quiet and not…” His smile faltered… “Dance on the piano.”

Yeah, that expression was priceless. Virgil laughed as Janus furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Just… Nevermind.” Virgil was pretty sure imagining that scene playing out was enough entertainment to last him weeks. And a reminder that honestly… Remus didn’t cause as much chaos as he gave him credit for. He was all bark… And plenty of bite, too, but nothing too permanent. “Keep playing, or whatever.”

“You aren’t going to demand I fetch the Duke?”

“He’s not a dog.” Virgil dismissed, resisting a smile at Deceit’s murmured ‘ehhhhh’. “He’ll come back when he wants to. And Logan can look after himself.”

“Amazing.” Deceit sighed heavily. “You wasted my time for nothing, then.”

Virgil could be proud of that, at the very least. He grinned in way of response, sending Deceit a nod before he sunk out.

[honey-bird-04]

this is my first post

Hullo. This is my 3rd time rewriting this, because sumthin’ kept fucking up every time I tried to write it. But let’s hope this time goes smoothly cause I got a lot to say. I don’t have anywhere else to put this, so I decided, why not come to Tumblr and see what everyone else thinks. So, let’s get started. I have been a Gleek since I was in 6th grade. And as much as I know that the show is cringey and hard to watch, my sister and I genuinely enjoyed it (although now we mostly watch it ironically). And we always had a favoritism system going, our favorite characters were blatantly obvious, and we were fishing for least favorite characters when we could. So, our lists of favorite characters/ships looked a little something like this: Favorites: -Kurt Hummel -Finn Hudson -Rachel Berry -Santana Lopez -Brittany S Pierce -Blaine Anderson Least favorites: -Quinn Fabray -Noah Puckerman -Terry Schue -Sue Sylvester -Jessie St James -Sebastian Smythe Favorite ships: -Finchel -Klaine -Brittana -Wemma And even though that doesn’t seem like there’s anything wrong with that set up in particular, I’m going to explain to you why my views have changed. Especially on my least favorite characters. And disclaimer!! Any and all of these characters that I list on my least favorites have nothing to do with race, gender, disability, sexuality etc. They are solely based on personality and how their actions affected others. That’s it. That’s what I’m basing it off of. Same goes for my favorite characters as well. And believe me I will give a lengthy explanation for each and every one of them I promise. So I’m going to be listing the least favorites from LEAST bad/toxic to MOST bad/toxic. And don’t be upset if one of your favorites are on here. Just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean you can’t like them. Just make that clear. These are only things that I’ve picked up and I’ve noticed throughout the show and watching back important clips and such from the show. Coming in at #7: Mercedes Jones: I know what’s coming already. And I’m going to have to tell y’all this loud and clear. Mercedes is not a diva. She’s just a bitch. I’ve never liked Mercedes, and not because she was black, but just because she had an awful personality and she was awful to the people around her. I think the only time I really saw her being nice to someone was when she was dating Sam, or when she was dating that football player. And a few times when she was with Kurt. The main problem I have with her is in S1E3: Bust Your Windows, she busted Kurt’s front windshield all because he had a crush on someone else. And I can guarantee you guys this. If a guy did that to a girl, like if Kurt had done that to Mercedes instead, y’all would’ve been outraged. She had no reason to bust his window like that and then get all sassy to him when he got upset about it. Coming in at #6: Santana Lopez: And this is another character that y’all are so set on saying that she’s a diva. But no. Santana is a straight up bitch. And before you guys say “she was closeted/insecure/outed!” etc, Kurt was also insecure and closeted in the first season and he was never rude to anybody in the way Santana was. And secondly, Finn didn’t out her until S3E6: Mash Off, and I can tell you she had been acting like a huge bitch way before then. All I have to do is pull up all of the times she’s been anti-semetic to Rachel, fatphobic to Finn and Lauren, attacked people’s insecurities and was just being god awful. One of my least favorite scenes from her is when she went on that entire rant about why Blaine and Kurt didn’t work out, and she attacked Kurt’s teeth, his sexuality, his dancing, his s3xual appeal, and just about everything Kurt was insecure about. All because he said that he thought Santana and Brittany were too young to get married. And I honestly agreed with him, Britt and San were 19. Definitely too young to get married, and Kurt was just trying to relate his failure with Blaine to warn them that getting married this young wasn’t something that they wanted to do. But no. Santana didn’t listen to him trying to reason with her, she just told him basically “you suck, Blaine really hates you, get your crap together.” And I have always had a problem with it. Not to mention she called Quinn a slut. And no matter what situation you are in, I don’t believe it’s okay to call any girl a slut. Actually, I don’t think it’s okay to call anybody a slut. Because I’m bringing this back. If Finn had called Quinn a slut, you guys would be all over him and cancelling that character so fast, but as soon as Santana says it, it’s okay? That never sat right with me either. And again, the way she relentlessly bullies Rachel for everything she’s insecure about, especially her height and nose is not okay. It doesn’t matter how much you dislike someone. Making fun of her nose to the point where as soon as she breaks it, she’s immediately thinking of getting a nose job. That is not okay. And there’s a speculation that Santana was the one who pushed Rachel over the edge to try and fall into bulimia. And I don’t doubt it. Santana is not a nice person. And her internalised homophobia does not excuse anything that she’s said or done. Not to mention she has Britt wrapped around her finger and she knows that she’ll do anything she asks. Like when Santana was fantasizing about forcing Britt to break up with Artie if she became Prom Queen because it would be “the law of the land” that is absolutely inexcusable. Because we all know Britt is naive and has some sort of DD or autism, and the characters in the show take that and use it to their advantage. Especially Santana. Coming in at #5: Artie Abrams: Now before you come for my ass, let me tell you. I actually used to really like Artie. He was pretty high up on my ranking Glee characters lists that I used to make all the time. But now that I’ve rewatched and I’ve noticed more things, I just cant like him with a good conscience. Remember in season 1 when Tina told him that she doesn’t really have a stutter? Well, if you remember, he broke up with her after that. But if you were closely watching the show, you should’ve realised that Tina has some sort of social anxiety, (not that I’m excusing her faking a disability), but she has a reason for doing it. She (presumably) took up the stutter because she needed a way to avoid having to speak so much in public. Which is totally understandable! Artie didn’t have to break up with her. She confided in him to finally tell him what she had been hiding for so long and he just breaks up with her??? Are you kidding? That just goes to show that one of the only reasons he was dating her was because of her disability. If he broke up with her so fast for not actually having one. Even though she had an actual reason that she did it. Another thing about Artie that I hate is that he called Britt stupid. And that is a huge deal. Everyone in the school calls Britt stupid or something along those lines (even Santana) and as soon as she finds the one guy who doesn’t think that way of her, he breaks her trust. She technically did cheat on him, but as I said earlier, she bends to Santana’s every order and she has some sort of DD or autism and didn’t understand that it was cheating. She even told Artie she didn’t understand it. And instead of sitting her down and explaining to her and giving her a second chance to prove her new knowledge to good use, he just calls her stupid and makes her cry. And then this one is obvious. Artie didn’t fucking wear c0ndoms while he was having s3x with those two girls in New York and didn’t actually tell them he had chlamydia. Which just pissed me off so much it makes me angry just talking about it. Coming in at #4: Finn Hudson: Oh ho ho. Finn Hudson makes me so angry. Let me just start off with everything he did (and didn’t do) to/for Kurt. Starting with the infamous “faggy scene” after Kurt tried to make amends with Finn for all the arguing they had been doing by redecorating their room. As ugly as it looked (lmao), he did his best to try and appeal to what a straight guy would like without making it too masculine so he would feel comfortable sleeping in there too. He tried to appeal to Finn’s interests as well as his own and had to do it all on short notice. But as soon as Finn saw it, the first thing he said was “are you freaking insane?” and Kurt just deflated. If you watch the scene, you can see it. You can physically see Kurt’s hard work all go to waste because of that comment. But then Finn follows it up with saying “I can’t live here, I’m a dude.” That line for me is the one that really made me dislike Finn very very strongly, because he not only said Kurt wasn’t a man to his face, he also views Kurt as nothing but his sexuality. That is further proven when he describes how uncomfortable he is around Kurt just because Kurt has a crush on him. And yes, Kurt was creepy, but after then, when they started living together, he just tried his best to make Finn feel as welcome and as comfortable as he can make him feel. But then sees that everything has been pointless, because Finn makes it a point to tell him that he puts his underwear on in the shower before he comes out when Kurt’s around. And that’s just fucked up. And a lot of people say that Finn “didn’t mean it” when he said the f-slur, but let me tell you something. You don’t just accidentally say something twice out of anger. If you really didn’t mean it, you would apologise right when it left your mouth. But Finn’s lack of an apology only proves that he meant every word of what he said. Next is when Finn refused to help Kurt out with Karofsky. I can only talk briefly about this because it actually makes me so fucking mad I can’t explain it. So, Rachel asks him to help Kurt out and confront Karofsky, right? And Finn refuses. Because, and I quote: “We both know I can help him more if I stay on top.” And I think he even says “Kurt will be fine” too, completely ignoring the fact that Kurt is so terrified to go to school, he’s losing weight (there are speculations that he cuts), but Finn doesn’t care about that. He only cares about the fact that he needs to stay popular. Oh and the fact that Karofsky plays right guard and wont guard him during the football game is he’s pissed and they’ll lose. He picks FOOTBALL and POPULARITY over his soon-to-be stepbrother’s MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PYSICAL H E A L T H. I cannot explain how angry that makes me. Not to mention, the amounts of times he’s played victim. Especially with Rachel. One time that really pisses me off is when he goes “have you ever thought about what I’m going to do in New York?” and Rachel starts stammering over herself and assuring him that she’ll find something that he fits into since he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with his future. And then he asks her about California and Puck’s pool business. Even though he knows Rachel has been set on New York and NYADA since she was a little girl. He knows that she has all of those ambitions and she has an entire plan in her life and she’s already trying to shift those plans to fit Finn in with her. And for him to tell her that he wants her to give all of that up to come with him and Puck to California is actually more selfish than Rachel is. Oh! And not to mention he outed Santana too. Let’s not forget that. In front of basically the whole damn school too. He also kissed Emma. And he also cheated on Rachel with Quinn. And then actually broke up with Rachel when she made out with Puck a bit because she wanted to get him back for cheating on her and sleeping with Santana (even though it doesn’t excuse what she did at all, I just think Finn was being a hypocrite.) And he also cheated on Quinn with Rachel in the first season, and he led Rachel on for the entire first season, Or most of it at least. Coming in at #3: Mr. Schue: I’m just gonna speed through this: -He was a creep/pedo with both the girls and the boys -He had a savior complex and tried to force Emma’s OCD away and fix it instead of help her -He encouraged Emma’s crush on him even while he was married -He twerked with a bunch of minors -Suspended a minor for not wearing a bra she was uncomfortable in -He dealt really badly with Rachel’s crush on him -Never listened to his students’ input -hallucinated children while he was sick -Was very awkwardly touchy with his students -His best friend was 19 -refused to stop twerking even when offered the exchange for a trans student to use a staff bathroom to avoid getting bullied -overreacted after finding out Terry wasn’t pregnant Now the moments you’ve all been waiting for. Coming in at #2: Noah Puckerman: Now I was stuck on Puck for a while, I didn’t think he really was that bad of a guy for a long time. But just one thing Quinn says was enough to sway me and put him this high on my list. In one of the earlier episodes, Puck starts teasing her and being a dick after finding out she’s pregnant. And so she says: “You got me drunk off of wine coolers and I was feeling fat that day...” Now if you break that sentence down, she literally says “you got me drunk.” implying that Puck himself wasn’t drunk when this all took place. Meaning, Noah Puckerman r@ped Quinn Fabray. She never cheated on Finn. Puck purposely got her drunk just so he could get what he wanted. Especially considering she never put out and she was president of the Celibacy Club. Now must I say anything else? No. I didn’t think so. And finally, coming in at #1: Blaine Anderson: I know Blaine is everyone’s smol bean gay bb boy. (*gag) but I have to tell you that he is not a good person whatsoever. I’ll give him credit though. In the 2nd season he was really sweet and I actually really liked him. But as the seasons progressed, he got worse. In S3E5, Blaine and Kurt go to a gay bar together, and Kurt helps Blaine out after he gets too drunk. Then as soon as he tries to get Blaine in the car, Blaine starts coming onto him and kissing his neck and trying to convince him to have s3x with him, even though Kurt keeps repetitively saying no. And then he plays the victim after Kurt blows up at him and says “well I’m sorry for trying to be spontaneous and fun!” and then proceeds to walk home, getting mad at Kurt for nothing. Then in another episode. I think it was later in season 3, Kurt meets Chandler. And Blaine had been ignoring him for a while before that, so Kurt starts talking to Chandler only because he makes him feel good about himself. And he obviously thought it was okay because Blaine did the same thing with Sebastian but called him all the time and flirted with him and dirty danced with him etc. So when Blaine goes through Kurt’s phone, he finds the messages and makes a huge deal out of it and accuses Kurt of cheating on him. Then publicly humiliates him in front of the Glee club with a song about cheating. And then proceeds to go and cheat on him anyway. And then as soon as they were going to NYADA together, Blaine didn’t like all the attention Kurt was getting after he started to get more fit and more attractive and he was extremely jealous of him and over protective, not letting Kurt have any other male attention. At all. And Blaine is just super stingy with Kurt and doesn’t let him live his life and then pays victim whenever he gets confronted by him. Oh and not to mention he dated the one person that made Kurt’s life a living hell for the longest time and decided to rub it in his face. So there we have it folks. My new least favorite Glee characters and all the reasons why. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Freshie (Mal Pugh X reader)

Back again with another update! Today we have our precious baby America Mal 😍 I swear she's too adorable to not have one. Hope you enjoy!

Mal's Pov

Today was my first practice with UCLA and I didn't know how to feel. Hopefully I'll fit in with the team easily enough. If only I could find the soccer field. I was looking around trying to find my way around when I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder, "Hey you lost?". I turn around to see a tall girl wearing shorts and a UCLA training top, so I'm guessing she plays some sort of sport. "Amm yeah I'm looking for the soccer field" I say sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck. She looks me up and down once more before she answers, "Yeah your not too far off. It's like a 5 minute walk from here. Here I'll walk with you". I smile at her, "Thanks. I'd hate you be late to my first practice". She smirks at me as she starts to walk, "No problem Freshie". "My name is Mal-" I start. "Mal Pugh, I know. Still gonna call you Freshie". I huff as I go to follow her, "How did you know my name?". She just raises an eyebrow at me, "You mean how didn't I know Mallory Pugh the new rising star of US soccer". I blush temporary forgetting how a lot of people know me now. We continue to talk on our way to the field until we eventually reach it. "Thanks for showing me to the field. Sorry if I dragged you out if your way" I say to her. She again smirks at me as I tilt my head at her, but before I can say anything coach comes over, "Glad to see you found the pitch alright Mal and I see you've met Y/n. Your going to be spending a lot of time together seeing as she's going to be playing up top with you". My mouth drops as Y/n laughs. Coach walks away to set up for practice as I turn back to Y/n, "So I guess I didn't really out you out of your way too much" I joke. She laughs and nods before she goes to put on her boots, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realise I'm your new teammate. I was also carrying my UCLA soccer bag". I blush even more at that which she again just laughs at, "Cmon Freshie, let's see can baby America keep up". And which that we started to warm up.

"Cmon Mal! Push it" I hear Y/n shout as I finish out my sprints. When I'm done I pretty much colaspe on the ground. I've been here for about a month now and let me tell you it's tough. Between balancing classes with soccer practice and then extra practices with Y/n, I barely have any free time. Y/n is always targeting me in practices as well and I honestly don't know why cause as far as I know I haven't done anything to piss her off. I'm trying to catch my breath when I look up to see Y/n standing over me, "Okay your done for the day Freshie". Y/n starts to tidy up as I down my water and before I know it Y/n is finished and is heading away again, "See you tomorrow Freshie". Once she's away from the field I flop back onto my back.

Y/n's Pov.

I'm carrying the ball bag back to the training room when I hear someone, "You know she thinks you hate her?". I turn to see Jessie Fleming another freshman on the team. I keep walking and drop the balls down in the corner, "Well I don't". "Really? Then why are you always so hard on her? Is it some thing that you think your better than freshmen?" She says angrily. "What does it matter to you Fleming?" I say raising an eyebrow. She just stares me down, "Cause she's my teammate and friend and I won't let you bully her for some unknown reason or just because you think your better than her, so what's your deal?". I just smile at her answer, "Well I know this isn't what you were expecting, but I honestly have no problem with Mal or you or any other freshman on the team. I've seen Mal play and I know just like you, both of you have bright futures in soccer. But I want to challenge her. Push her to push her limits. I know she going to be a big name in soccer. I'm hard on her because I know she's going to succeed, but if she want to be remembered she has to train that little bit hard than everyone else. So yes Jess, I'm hard on the freshmen especially her because I was her to be the next Mia Ham because I know she's well on her way to making it big. Just like yourself if you keep up the extra training". Jess stands there gaping at me for a second. I turn to leave and let her get back to her own training, "You know everyone thinks your some arrogant cruel player, but really your just pushing her to achieve". I smile and turn to look back at her, "You know for a 4.0 GPA it took you a long time to figure that out". And with that I leave the training room.

Mal Pov

We were just after winning our first championship match and the team were at a party to celebrate. I was hanging with Jessie and Teagan but I lost them after a while. I was walking around the house trying to find one of the girl when I felt arms wrap around my waist. I turn to see an obviously drunk frat boy, "Hey cutie. Looking for someone?". I try to pull out out of his grasp which I was able to do, "Just looking for my friends". But again he just continues to follow me. "Cmon how about I keep you some company. Maybe I can entertain you for a while" he slurs. He grabs my wrist and pushes me up against the wall in the hallway. He starts to lean in as I try to push him away, but before he could do anything. I hear a voice come from behind him, "Hey dude back off". I look over his shoulder to see Y/n glaring down the guy with her arms crossed. "Do you mind we were in the middle of something?" He glares back at her. But Y/n just continues to stare down the guy before pulling him off me and stepping in middle us, "Dude get it through your thick skull she doesn't want you. Now leave before I make you". He just laughs sizing her up, "What's a pipsqueak like you gonna do?". Although Y/n is smaller than him, she punches him right across the cheek sending him staggering. She grabs my wrist before dragging me outside. Once we get away from the party I turn to her, "Thanks. I lost the others and couldn't find anyone. Who knows what he would have done if you hadn't gotten there". She just wraps me in a hug, "Of course. I would never let anyone hurt you Mal. I care about you way too much". I pull away shocked, "And here I thought you hated me". She just chuckled shoving her hands into her pockets, "I never hated you. I just want to see you succeed. I push you to your limits and target you in practice because I know you can achieve great things. I know you can be one of the best players in the world. I just want to challenge you to push you to your limits. I actually like you a lot Mal". I stare at her still shocked. Her eyes widen at her last comment, "But it's obvious you don't like me like that. That was dumb I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anythin-" she rambles. I giggled at the stony faced striker who is now a flustered mess, "I like you too Y/n". She stops her rant and grins goofily which reminds me of Kelley. "Awesome. So..would you.. like..to go on...a date sometime?" She stutters out. I change to a blank face, "No". She face drops like a kicked puppy, "I'd love you" I giggle. She lets out a huge sigh of relief, "Don't do that to me. Damn my heart". I laugh at her before she wraps her arm around my waist before heading off towards the dorms, "Cmon let's get you back to your dorm Freshie". I groan at the name, "Seriously". I just smirks and winks at me, "You will always be my Freshie"

Hope you enjoyed this imagine and again sorry if you didn't (probably wasn't as good as the press imagine but anyway) Remember if you have any ideas or want a particular player just message me or left it in the comments below. Until next time!

[nad-zeta]

Match up 🌈

Hi Zeta! Could I get a matchup for Ikesen, please? :3c Basic info: Sagittarius sun (I relate mostly to the truth-seeking, philosophical side of Sag), Gemini moon (addicted to gathering information), Libra rising (just coming off as a nice person on first meeting). INFP, Hufflepuff.

I’m very concerned with ethics and can have a quick temper about perceived injustices; I often feel upset about human and animal suffering, and I’m willing to throw down over someone being hurtful to others. On the downside, I probably have too much pride about my intelligence and also get angry if I feel like someone is talking down to me or dismissing my concerns.

Self-evaluation and change are very important to me. I can never be perfect about how I respond to people, but with experience and loss comes wisdom, and I’ve worked to have more restraint in the way I talk to people even when I’m angry. Even if I’ll never be 100% fair and still make mistakes, I keep thinking about how to do better and trying.

I often spend time listening to people with no outward judgment, so friends, acquaintances, and co-workers are able to feel that I accept and respect them, and I can set people at ease. It’s important to me to be a good listener and to respond in a way that is helpful and supportive for a person’s specific struggles.

My career is in education, currently tutoring college writing & study skills and supervising a peer-turoring program. I love reading about how the brain works and will soon be applying to a graduate program for Learning Sciences. I’m also fascinated with the science of human behavior and relationships.

My undergraduate degree was in English with a focus in creative writing, though with my interest in education now, writing is more of a hobby (that I often avoid). I enjoy sketching as well.

Other than the temper, weak points are a lifelong struggle with depression/anxiety/self-esteem and a tendency to get paralyzed and demotivated by how much I’m already falling short of my standards. I procrastinate a lot and feel like I should be doing more to help people.

I love cats (especially my cat, of course) and pandas. Like a panda, I’m vegetarian and often feel like I have no energy fjsjdnfnwnncjf.

Although I don’t have any firm belief in a higher power or the supernatural, I’m not willing to rule out the idea that spiritual beings / phenomena exist. They haven’t been scientifically proven, but they haven’t been disproven, either!

And uh, I’m bi/pan (grew up identifying as bi so it’s hard to let go of the label even though pan probably fits better) and polyamorous, although outside of an established relationship, I have very little interest in sex. I am also biracial (white/Asian). With all of that, it can be hard to feel like I’m really “at home” anywhere. But I think it helps with having a flexible perspective about diversity.

Oof! That was a lot! Thank you for reading all of it and thank you for being so generous with your time in writing match-ups!

Hi dear! Thank you so much for the request and sorry for making ya wait sooooo long hehe🙈😅! Awww girl I love writing these matchups, so its no problem! I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have the best day!  (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡

So I match you with……Hideyoshi

So the first time the two of you really interacted all hell broke loose. You were brought back to the castle by Masamune and was presented before Nobunaga. He had declared that you were to be the new Oda princess. You honestly had a problem with that as you didn’t want to feel like you were a burden or well that you owed them anything, so you insisted Nobunaga give you a real job to earn your keep. The man found you most amusing, not only had you fearlessly saved his life, but here you were, now before him unpleased with being a princess, a title most people in the country would kill for. He gave you his classic smirk “Very well then lucky charm, I shall name you as our new castle chatelaine.” You nodded in satisfaction at that, and just before you could start to relax, you felt someone’s gaze burning a hole through you. 

You turned over to see Nobu’s right-hand man glaring at you, if looks could kill you would be dead, and TBH you were starting to lose your temper with these men. It wasn’t until Hideyoshi said something that made you go off the handle “My lord, I don’t trust this woman, who is to say she won’t kill you in your sleep, or that she was the one  responsible for the fire in the first place.” At that, you scoffed and rolled your eyes “Why would I set a building on fire just to save the dude I am supposedly trying to kill.” Before anyone knew it, you and Hideyoshi were at each other throats. Both of you were being pulled apart by the fellow warlords before things escalated too quickly. Finally, Nobunaga set Hideyoshi straight and dismissed you from the council room to acquaint yourself with the castle

You kept your head down and worked hard, and you were most definitely loved by all the castle staff. You seemed to look past their titles and statuses and got to know them as people, they loved that you never judged them and that you would always be there for them, a friendly ear to listen to their problems and concerns, while giving good constructive advice. This trait of you had also earned you a lot of respect among the warlords, and soon you became quite good friends with most of them. Mitsunari and Ramnaru in particular.

TBH you loved the little angel Mitsunari, as the two of you would often bond over your love for books, reading and knowledge. He loved studying the art of war while you loved learning about people, their brains, behaviours and their relationships. Everyone absolutely adored you, well, all but Hideyoshi. 

But that all ended one day when Mitsunari asked if you would like to help him. Mitsunari needed someone who could assist him during the soldiers training drills, and you were all too happy to assist. You sat beside him and helped him with the paperwork. You had noticed that the chain of command would break and that certain people would be better suited for other units. During your lunch break, Hideyoshi walked up to you and Mitsunari, and you voiced your concerns. He looked at you dumbfounded, how did a woman know so much about human relationships and behaviour. Mitsunari chimed in and very excitedly stated that, he had seen you study the human brain and the science of their behaviours and relationships. Hideyoshi thought for a moment then nodded, “Okay then, show me in which unit you think these men would be best suited”. They continued their training drills, and by the end of it, Hideyoshi was Hella impressed with you!

He wanted to trust you, he really did, but he was caught between duty and his own emotions. That was until one day. On a whim, Nobunaga decided to bring his lucky charm with him to battle. You were hesitant at first but going to war with the Oda’s meant that you wouldn’t have time to procrastinate and that you would have a golden opportunity to help people. You had been studying medicine for a while now, as Ieyasu had joined your and Mitsunari’s book club. 

The two of you work together patching up injured soldiers all afternoon and judging by the influx of wounded men things weren’t looking too good. That night you had helped Masamune with making supper for everyone. You had stood in front of the big pot, scooping the rice dish into everyone’s bowls when you noticed something peculiar. Hideyoshi was holding out his bowl with his left hand. This was strange as he was right-handed and would usually hold it out with his dominant hand. You made a mental note of his behaviours and watched him as everyone ate. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t using his dominant arm at all. 

Once everyone had retired for the night, you pulled the warlord aside and confronted him. He led you to his tent and unwrapped his arm showing you his wound. You were shook, it was a deep cut across the length of his arm. You lost your temper at the sight “How stupid could you be hiding a severe wound like that, what if I got infected, what if you bled out.” As you ranted about all the possible what-ifs of him not seeking medical treatment sooner, you had him sit down and started gently cleaning and bandaging the wound. 

He had realized at that moment that you were a genuinely kind woman and that he most definitely could trust you. And at that moment you saw something that melted away all your anger, worry and frustration. Hideyoshi’s genuine smile. It was absolutely radiant. Like the sun coming up from the horizon in the morning.

Since that day Hideyoshi was a completely different person towards you. He would often invite you to his manor to help him clean and care for the deep gash on his arm. Once his arm was healed, he would invite you to ask your opinion about different soldiers behaviour and relationships, and where you thought them best suited. Honestly, any excuse just to see you and chat with you. Soon your tea date moved to the local tea houses, and you found yourself enjoying Hideyoshi’s company more and more. He loved the way your eyes would light up when you talk about your interests in science and the human brain. He loves how you cared so much for people and animals and couldn’t stand injustice

In fact, one day as the two of you were walking around the market together, you spotted a group of men bullying a poor defenceless cat. Your blood was boiling, and in an instant, you were there to rescue the cat from the men. Luckily for you, Hideyoshi was hot on your trail, as it had slipped your mind that people in this era carried around weapons. After Hideyoshi fought off the men, he looked over at you to see you cradling the cat in your arms. His heart melted, even more so when you gave him the puppy dog eyes asking if you could keep the poor little thing. Honestly, he could never say no to you. Both you and Hideyoshi had long ago fallen in love with each other, but both of you were just low key to shy to admit it

He decided one day that he just had to tell you how he felt, so he planned out a romantic dinner for the two of you. He made sure to prepare all your favourite vegetarian dishes. As the two of you ate, you could tell something had been bothering him. After dinner, the two of you went outside to sit and enjoy the warm summer breeze. This was the moment Hideyoshi decided to blurt out all his feeling for you. You simply smiled at the silly man and kissed him, returning the feelings.

The two of you made the cutest couple, like you, Hideyoshi love, love loved to help people. He is known as the doting mother hen after all. One of the qualities he loved most about you is your kind heart. Often he would go with you and assist you in teaching the street children how to read and write. He would often steal glances at you and smile at you. He loved how sweet, gentle and patient you were towards the children. You never lost your temper with them, and they loved you so much, they loved that they could come to you with their problems, you would always provide them with helpful and supportive advice which they really appropriated

You loved to spend time with Hideyoshi. Even if that meant being in the same room and doing your own thing. You would often sit in his room and sketch while he worked on admin. You loved the way his eyes lit up, and the bright smiles he would give you, whenever you showed him your finished work. He loved your sketches, and he would often low key steal them and hang them up in his room on full display for all to see your beautiful talent

Anxiety and depression is no problem for this doting mother. Whenever you are having an anxiety attack or going through s depression spell, he will be sure to be, right by your side to support you throughout it. He will pull you into his arms and just hold you, whispering reassuring words in your ears. He knows you have a tendency to be too harsh on yourself and hold yourself at a ridiculously high standards. He will spend hours just rubbing soothing circles on your back and whisper sweet nothings in your ears. This man will dote on you so hard that your anxiety and depression would be soothed as quick as they manifested.

Hideyoshi’s all-time favourite is just holding you in his arms for hours and hours as you read to him, the newest piece of your creative writing or tell him the newest fun fact you had learned from your studies. He loves nothing more than to spend a quiet evening with you cradled in his arms sharing sweet kisses as the two of you exchange stories of each others day

Other Potential matches……………. Ieyasu 

I hope you enjoyed it, love! (◠‿◠✿)❤🌼

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #15 (1980)

If the story so far had revealed that Cerebus has a vagina, I could make a hentai joke here.

The first time I encountered hentai was at an anime convention at a Red Lion Inn in San Jose in 1994 or 1995. I went to the convention by myself because I had recently fallen in love with the cartoon Sailor Moon and wanted to get some Sailor Moon LaserDiscs unless it was actually Sailor Moon dolls I wanted. It was so long ago, how am I supposed to remember?! They had a room where they were showing movies and one of the movies I watched was Sailor Moon R: The Movie. It was subtitled which was great because then I had the story memorized for all the times I watched my non-subtitled LaserDisc. But that wasn't the pornographic anime I saw! I don't even remember what that was but I watched some tentacle fucking movie late at night in a dark room with a bunch of other sweaty nerds. I didn't know that was what was going to happen though so I didn't have my dick in my hands like the other guys probably did. I was as shocked as anybody when they first find out that cartoons where women get fucked by tentacles exist! I mean, how many penises does an alien need?! I grew up thinking the little gray aliens had zero! That Red Lion Inn was the same one where I played in a couple of Magic the Gathering tournaments. Being in a dark room with a bunch of horny anime fans was less awkward and uncomfortable than playing Magic the Gathering against Magic the Gathering fans. Most of them probably couldn't believe they were actually playing against such a cool and handsome dude. It really threw them off their game when I would say things like, "Yeah, I've touched a couple of boobs. I attack with my Serra Angel." I know what you're thinking: "Anime, comic books, and Magic the Gathering?! This awesome dude must have owned every single Stars Wars figure too!" Aw, you're too kind! I'm blushing! But obviously I never owned Yak Face. "A Note from the Publisher" is still being published so I guess Dave and Deni are still married. In his Swords of Cerebus essay, Dave Sim discusses "Why Groucho?" It seems to mostly come down to this: Dave Sim enjoyed the characters of Groucho Marx as a teenager and memorized a lot of their lines. He also mentions Kim Thompson's review of Cerebus in The Comic Journal (the first major review of the series) in which Kim praised Sim's ability to make his parody characters transcend the parody to become unique creations of their own. This review gave Sim the confidence to put Groucho in the role of Lord Julius. Which worked out so well that Sim later adds Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Margeret Thatcher, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Woody Allen, Dave Sim, and the Three Stooges into the story. I'm sure I'm missing some but I can't remember every aspect of this 6000 page story. Was The Judge also a parody of somebody? Was the Regency Elf based on Wendy Pini? I don't know! I'm sure I'm missing a lot of references in Cerebus simply because I haven't experienced all the same knowledge sources as Dave Sim. Just like I'm missing a super duper lot of references in Gravity's Rainbow because nobody in the history of ever has experienced all the same knowledge sources as Thomas Pynchon. I've been reading Gravity's Rainbow (for the first time but also the third time because I'm basically reading it three times at the same time. You'll understand when you read it) and I'm surprised by how funny it is. I don't think anybody ever described it as funny or else I'm sure I would never have stopped reading it multiple times prior to this time when I'm actually going to finish it. Although I suppose when I read Catch-22, I had done so on my own so nobody ever told me how funny that book was either. But for some reason, Catch-22 lets you know it's going to be a funny book pretty quickly. Gravity's Rainbow is all, "Here is a description of an evacuation of London which is just stage setting because, you know, the bombs have already blown up, but it makes people feel safe. And after that, how about a scene where this guy makes a bunch of banana recipes for breakfast. Is that funny enough for you?" Oh, sure, there are some funny moments like when that one guy pretends a banana is his cock and then some other guys tackle him and beat him with his own pretend cock. But there's a gravity to the scene that doesn't lend itself to the reader thinking, "Oh, this is a funny book!" But if you make it far enough, you start realizing, "Hey! I'm not understanding this!" So then you reread the section and you start realizing, "Hey! I'm laughing at this stuff! This is pretty funny!" Plus there are a lot of descriptions of sexy things that I'm assuming are really accurate because Pynchon is obsessed with details.

Anyway, I was supposed to be talking about Cerebus, wasn't I?

A Living Priest of Tarim crashes Lord Julius' bath to scold him about a party Julius is giving in a fortnight (which is the amount of time your kid has lost to a video game). I don't know why the priest has to declare he's a living priest. You can tell that by the way he's shouting and foaming at the mouth. Although this is a Swords & Sorcery book so I suppose there are many dead creatures that also shout and foam at the mouth. Sometimes I forget I'm reading a fictional book and wind up ranting and raving about stuff that I'm supposed to just assume is fine. Like when I read The Flash and nothing in it makes any sense at all because The Flash should never have any trouble stopping crime or saving people from natural disasters. The comic book should be over in two pages. Even the writers, at some point, realized how ridiculous Flash stories were and decided the only way to make them believable was to have The Flash battle other super fast people. But that just meant Flash stories basically became bar-room brawls. Two people with super speed fighting is the same as reading a story about two people without super speed fighting. Boring! Some writers even decided that maybe a telepathic monkey would make things more interesting and I suppose telepathic monkeys make everything more interesting so kudos to them. I was going to go on a long rant about telepathic monkeys but then I realized how much I love the idea of telepathic monkeys so why should I create an argument against them? More telepathic monkeys, please.

This made me laugh out loud. Not as much as the chapter in Gravity's Rainbow where the old woman forces Slothrop to eat a bunch of terrible candies. But then it isn't a competition, is it? I mean, I guess it's a competition for my time which is why I haven't written a comic book review in a week or more. Blame Thomas Pynchon for being so entertaining (and also Apex).

Baskin, the Minister for Executive Planning, has come to let Lord Julius know what the revolutionaries have revealed while being tortured. The only bit of useful information was one prisoner's last words: "Revolution...the pits." Cerebus immediately assumes "the Pits" is a location and not a summation of the prisoner's feelings about revolution which led to torture which led to his death. Cerebus, being the Kitchen Staff Supervisor, begins an investigation into The Pits. His first step: threatening the Priest of the Living Tarim. Which makes me realize I transposed the word "living" in the previous encounter with the priest and went on a digression that makes no sense to anybody who has read and somehow remembers that particular panel. I'm sure they were scoffing and snorting and exclaiming to their pet rat, "What a stupid fool loser this Grunion Guy is! Living Priest of Tarim! HA! Ridiculous! What a moronic mistake! He has made a gigantic fool of himself!" I don't know that the almost certainly imaginary people who called me on my mistake as they read this have a pet rat but I do know there almost certainly isn't another imaginary sentient being in the room with them. Cerebus learns that The Pits are Old Palnu that lies under current Palnu. It was destroyed in a massive earthquake long ago and the new city built over the top of it. It's like a Dungeons & Dragons module but with a lot less treasure.

This scene reminded me that I need to finish rereading The Boomer Bible: A Testament for Our Times (which is what it was called in the 90s but is just as accurate for today).

Cerebus and Lord Julius engage in another typical misunderstanding (it's not hard when only half of the people in the conversation care about making sense) which ends up with Lord Julius deciding that the location for the Festival of Petunias will be The Pits. This complicates Cerebus' job of not allowing Lord Julius to be assassinated because the assassins are most likely housed in The Pits (along with their giant snakes (*see cover)). Lord Julius, Baskin, and Cerebus descend into The Pits to find a suitable location for the Festival of Petunias. In doing so, they wind up in a trap and confronted by a masked revolutionary of the "Eye of the Pyramid." Which is odd because you usually have to murder at least a dozen kobolds and several goblins before you reach the room with the boss in it.

Typical unbalanced beginning level module. A giant snake as the first encounter!

Cerebus manages to defeat the giant snake by crashing it headfirst into a wall. The wall winds up being a key support structure and the roof collapses. Everybody makes it out alive but the masked revolutionary evades capture. He will be back next issue to ruin the Festival of Petunias. Aardvark Comment is still just a mostly standard comic book letters page. I'll probably stop discussing it until people start criticizing Dave. Right now it's just "This comic book is great!" and "Keep writing, Dave, and I'll never think ill of anything idea you espouse!" while Dave replies, "I owe my fans everything! I can't wait until I can stop feeling that way and start jerking off onto my art boards and selling those as pages of Cerebus!" Cerebus #15 Rating: A. Good story, good Lord Julius dialogue, good Living Priest of the Living Tarim scenes. I wholeheartedly endorse this comic book and Dave Sim. No way a guy with a sense of humor like this is going to go off the rails, right?!

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[c0untb00z]

I would just like to clear, I don't hate the BBC Dracula 2020 Show. In fact, I actually like the idea of Dracula being set in modern times like in the show, but I would like it a lot better if it wasn't written like a fucking reader insert fanfiction.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some reader inserts every once in a while but they're meant to be on Wattpad. Sometimes, you can find really fucking good fanfictions that could genuinly be movies, but this really just feels like someone wrote an erotic fanfiction for Dracula. It almost reminds me of a worse version of 50 Shades of Grey with less kinky sex.

First and foremost Agatha Van Hesling. I actually kinda liked her personality, how driven she was and determined to never give up, but she was literally created for a love interest. In Dracula by Bram Stocker, Sister Agatha is a nun that nurses Jonathan back to health, claiming he was 'sick in the head' as he ranted of what he had seen and warning others of Dracula. She doesn't even have a last name.

However there is a Dr. Van Hesling in the book, hes dutch(???) Professor that mentors and taught(????) Jack Seward who was in love with Lucy, who was fed off of and eventually killed and eventually undead by the means of the one and only Dracula. Dr Van Hesling plays a large role in the plot of the book. He has an open mind and was able to draw connections between things that some others couldn't, as he had access to more sources and could speak to most off the charecters involved. He's the first person to present the idea of a vampire, and Lucy turning into one. Thanks to Jonathan he was able to identify the vampire feeding on Lucy as Dracula and finds out how to kill the vampires.

So basically Agatha was literally fabricataed for the sole perpose of being there, to fall in love with Dracula or something.

I know we all are horny for Dracula. I'm horny for Dracula. Vampires are fucking hot but the sexiest part of vampires is that they ya know. Kill you and are mercily and heartless. The show does show that in a lot of parts and even decapiates a nun and yeets it into a gaggle of nuns which i fucking died at. But it also, humanizes him way to much, hes literally a monster. The scene in the boat with lord whats his name really portrayed that. It was really,,,, weird cause me being a kinky fucker I don't find the particular phrases of "you're going to need to be quiet now," and " youre doing so well" that creepy and if anything a little hot but looking at the circumstance and the look on that kids face, it was like r e a l y fucked up. Which is why i liked that scene. It showed just how fucked up Dracula is.

To be fair i did like Cleas Bangs acting and casting as Dracula. He had a certain charm that was ever so s l i g h t l y off. I heard people say he just 'made up an accent' but fuck you guys its a fucking danish accent you incolent twats anyways. He could be really funny at times and i actually apprecited it.

However the casting AND acting of the modern parts is absolute shit. Ep.3 is where i kinda gave up on the show and finsihed it for the sake of torturing myself. FIRST OF FUCKING ALL LUCY i cannot fathom how P I S S E D i am about Lucy. Why did they have to make her a phone obsessed basic asshole with no regards to anyones emotions besides her own and the extent of her personality is 'getting likes on socail media is all i care about because it makes me feel validated so im gonna wallo in self pity because i was obiously written by white man in his 50s that would have made me white if he wasnt forved to throw in diversity points" like shut the fuck up steven king.

Also lucy and mina never meet??? Theyre in different fucking time lines??? Theyre friendship and love for eachother was fucking golden how dare you rob that form me and give me a garbage bag full of shit with a shiny little bow on top in its place jesus f u ck.

The cemetary scene was o k ay i gues?? I liked the little nod to the book with the bloofer lady and the concept of random sprits being undead because of unfinished buisness. But this really just felt like it was slapped in the show for the sake of going on a date with Dracula in cemetary. I actually kinda apperacted it but it just felt awkward.

Also who the f u ck is Lucy's friend? The gay one??? Like,,,, is that supposed to Arthur???? His chatecter was so fu king weird and offset he just didnt feel like he should be in there. Hes literally just there for a-50-year-old-man's-interpretation-of-young-women-now-a-days verson of Lucy to have a gay best ffriend.

Ok i not even sure if i want to talk about Quincy. It just hurts. It physically hurts me to think about how d i r t y they did my baby. His charecter is the defination of american chivalry, just as great as regular chivarly but with a little extra cowboy vibe. Quincy is jist the biggest,,,, sweet haert,, like he asked lucy to marry him in his cool american cowboy voice cause he knew lucy loved it and it always made her laugh. And even when she turned him down becayse her heart belonged to arthur, he stayed. All he wanted was for lucy to be happy and all he requested was that they stay frirnds. Hes also invovled with taking fkwn dracula although hes not a main charecter percice ly as he doesnt have any entires in the book he still has an amaizing precence and sometimes while reading the book ill be readying one of dr sewards passanges and think "huh i wonder what quncys doin. I hope hes dooin good. Cowboy vibes n stuffs" amd boy dles he do that. Everh dracula film adaptataion robs us. R O B S U S of quincy morris best scene. In the middle of dr van helsing ranting about vampires( thats basically what half of the book is. I could write a 4p minute mono louge of his rambling jesus how does sweard take note of all this) quincy litterally just walks out. And nobodg really pays any notice beside glancing ag his leave and shrugging at one anouther and going back tl listneing tl van helsing explaining his vampire fan theories quincy moris , the quincy morris from texathe untited states of the amerkca the land and the free and also cowboys.stands outside of the bouilding and pints his gun up at. Dracula whos in the shape of a fucking bat eves ddopping outside the window and just fucking,,shoots it. Now he doesnt hit it cause thatt wouldnt be as fun as brutally stabbing the fucker witja wooden stake. But S T I L L. And the fucking bullet hits the window that everybodys in anprobably causes arthur to shit himself the ppoor boy. Can you belive that theh didnt fucking flim thatfor any dracul? Now i i under stands why not put in this adaptation because quincy is only mentionsed like three god damned times. And when theh DK mention him jesusnshit they literally jsut made him some popular jock from amwrica just to conter jacks white twinky ass and then they had him propose to lucy in the middle of a fucking night club and she says yes???? Lile ok jut throw Arthur out a window then cause cause fu c k him i guess. And then after lucy dies he jjsy fucking moves ?? The only thing thta makes this version of qincy quinccy is the fu king name and fact hes from america

Ok now jack fucking seward. He reminds me of when ylu forget you had a pb&j in your back pack so in the bos after school you pull it out cause yoyr hungry and yoyr mom put WAY to much jelly on it so now its like. All obsorbed into the bread and joggy and squished. Just sad and really white. They even had some kid call him whate bread and they werent fucking wrong. His obly personality traits were ' omg i love lucy but shes a hoe ;,,,((' and being connected to Zoe.

Now last and definately least the god forbaden ending. Just thinking about it gives me a fucking head ache. So , jesus, zoe, who is agathas great niece or someshit, a d looks exactly like her (its literally the same fucking actress) is a detective lile scitist reasearching dracula. So dracula is illedatly attracted to her becasue he thinks shes like agathas reincarnation or soenshit. So he tries tk drink her blood at one point and spits it all out and pukes and sjit cause her blood is poisonous bevaise she has fucking c an c e r. So later we find out that draculas weaknesses ( the sun crucifix) arnt actually real hes just afraid of dying so he has like irration fears or some shit so for some fucking reason. They deside. Its a good iea to end the show with this:

Dracula fucking drinks all of zoes blood killing her and himself because her blood poisonus. And ghe fucking emd scene is them like,,, in the sun???? Or soemt hi ng??? And theyre naked and like presumably fucked and dracula says some shit like " its doesnt have to hurt" and i almost tore my wrist open wiith my teeth because of how shitty this ending is.

Not lnly is it disrespectful to zoe but agatha, agathas whole thing was K I L I N G. dracula she wanted him fucking D E A D she woULDNT FUCK HKM

And like just after finding out that he can be in the sunlight with out fucking dying and that crosses just make him umcomfortable or some shit he just desides to kill himself??? DUDE YOU JUST FOUND OUT YOURE PROACTICALLY MORE INVINCABLE THAN YOU WERE BEFORE AND YOU JSUT FUCKING OFF YOUR SELF ??? HE COULD HAVE FUCKING RULED ENGLAD AND SPEAD VAMPIRISM OLL LVER THE FUCKING COUNTFY AND WORLD KF HE TRIED HARD ENOUGH AND HE KILLS HIMSELF BECAUSE THEY WANTED A STUPID SAPPY ENDING

anyway if anyone actually goes through the effort of reafing my god damn eS S A Y about Dracula that i finkshed typing (im not gonna bother editing tbh) at 4 fucking am. Then thank you and please get a life

[prorevenge]

How I stopped my co-workers and I being bullied, by outing that awful woman as a serial sexual assaulter. TW mentions of sexual assault.

I think this is a pro-revenge, if not tell me and I will post it elsewhere!

Also, this will be a long one... I am very verbose, and it spills over into text too!

A long time ago I worked for a fast food place that has a very noticeable “golden” (bright yellow usually) symbol.

The People Involved:

Me: a 17-19 year old male living in a medium sized town in the UK. (I am now old, relatively, damn, how does that happen? :) ) Also a giant toker at the time, had dreadlocks and smoked almost everyday.

Bitchqueen: a hostile, but shockingly beautiful, and thoroughly nasty human woman, approx 19-23 ish during all this nonsense.

TheBigMan: a 2nd assistant manager who I got on really well with from day one. He took no shit from bullshitters, had zero tolerance for Bitchqueen (his usual greeting was something like “Hey Bitchqueen, who are you going to pick on today?”) and if he saw her bullying someone he would just walk in between her and the victim and bend down to stare in her face. She would walk off and pretend nothing had happened. More than once he stated if BQ were a man she would have been beaten senseless by him by now. He hated violence, but she was really awful! Also he was a bit of a unit. As in 250lbs of muscle and a gym obsession long before it was cool! Also a fairly big smoker, we used to get high after work a lot with some of the other employees.

AwesomeManager: my stores 1st assistant manager, who was a wonderful women who helped me as a human a lot in a huge number of ways. Protecting me from Bitchqueen was only part of it.

Senior Area Manager: who I will call SAM, since all the actual Sam's I have know have all been good dudes too! Also a great protector from the BS of BQ.

MonsterBitch: the new store manager and the proximate cause of her own, and BQ's downfall. Also a troll faced harridan who oozed hate and bitterness.

So time to tell the tale of how it panned out.

I had been there a year or so before Bitchqueen was promoted to manager. Until then she was obnoxious but powerless, but somehow, after marrying the store manager she got a promotion (jumping the next two steps up at that) to second assistant manager. Surprising eh?

I had been warned by TheBigMan when I was first hired to never be alone with her as she had a number of young men fired for “groping” her by her Store Manager-BF/Fiancé/Husband (even when the video showed that there was no close contact let alone groping in some of those cases . I was super careful in this regard.

Bitchqueen started playing games with the rota against me and a few others she hated. I think she hated me because I got along with most people, and she always hated sociable and non-bitchy people. Her favourites got the best shifts and the people she hated had our hours cut and shifted about without warning. She would pencil in changes a few minutes before a shift started (I caught her doing it but her store manager husband didn't want to deal with it) and then send home the one who turned up for their (now given away) shift with a warning. She would then call up and scream at the one who was off, but now suddenly on shift, for not arriving when they had no idea the shift was changed. It's sort of genius really, getting two workers Bitchqueen hated in one blow! She did try this crap on me but I just called Awesome Manager and she checked the computer records and sorted it out, she also let Bitchqueen know she was going to be checking the rota daily and approving all changes, so Bitchqueen had to find a new tactic.

I was a pretty hard worker (it made the time pass quicker for me) and was friends with the AwesomeManager (and TheBigMan), who protected me from Bitchqueens bullshit almost all of the time, and would fix things when shit happened while AwesomeManager was off work. I also cultivated a good relationship with with our SAM, and he ended up setting up a special store rescue team to sort out failing (franchise usually) stores in the area, placing me in charge of it as the top trainer of the group (Bitchqueen was maybe 7 months into being a manager at this point). This made me more or less untouchable (as long as I kept my nose clean) and so Bitchqueen went mental. She started on my friends, bullying and abusing them in work, and trying to get them all written up. They told me and I told AwesomeManager, she slapped Bitchqueen down again, metaphorically of course. TheBigMan made some complaints about her treatment of the other staff and she calmed down a little. Until her husband got “promoted” to a different store some distance away. Later SAM admitted this was an attempt to calm the drama at our store... But how wrong it all went!

Our new store manager was a MonsterBitch, but good at hiding it to begin with. After a few weeks AwesomeManager noticed that only young women were getting accepted after interviews, and pointed this out to Me and TheBigMan, and asked us to keep out eyes and ears out for anything dodgy going on. It wasn't long until it became clear what was happening.

I had made pretty good friend with one of the new hires (I admit it, I was interested and she was hot ), I will call her ShyNSweet, she was a lovely but very sheltered young lady from a nearby village, living in a house share in the town we worked in. She went out with “the girls” a group centred on MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and a couple of MonsterBitch's “friends” on a Friday, and the next day in work was really distracted. We finished at the same time so I offered ShyNSweet a lift (that is I gave her a ride home in my car for our American friends) and she said yes since we lived pretty close together. In the car I asked if she had a fun night (just asking to fill the time, I wasn't digging at this point) and she replied in a very non-committal way. I remembered her saying she had a great time to Bitchqueen earlier during our shift so I asked her if she was OK. She burst into tears and told me that she had been the back of a Taxi with MonsterBitch and one of the “friends” (Bitchqueen was upfront) and MB and the friend had been groping ShyNSweet really hard (she showed me some bruises on her sides and thighs later, she said she had more on her boobs) and telling her she had to go back to their house and “experience real sex”. I was livid! But I tried to be outwardly calm. I told her that they should be punished, and I would support her, and I knew that SAM, AwesomeManager and TheBigMan would all have her back. I recommended we go to the police, but she was afraid she would lose her job. I knew she wouldn't, but couldn't convince her quickly and I didn't want to traumatise her further, so I just said what ever she chose I would support, and to call me if she is ever in a similar situation and I will come get her. She hugged me for ages crying and we went and had a cup of tea in her house. Her flatmate knew something was up and I encouraged ShyNSweet to tell her too. She did and I left after making them more tea.

I had to do something, but I couldn't directly involve ShyNSweet, and although I knew SAM, AwesomeManger and TheBigMan would believe me I had no direct evidence of an assault. So what to do? Well the first thing was to check where I stood legally, and it turns out the UK is a one party consent recording jurisdiction. As long as I am in place with no reasonable expectation of privacy I don't have to inform anyone I am recording audio or video, at least according to the lawyer I asked who is a friend of my step-father. Work counted as no expectation of privacy, so I was good to record everything. Of course back then the smallest video cameras were the size of a small shoe box and really expensive, and I was a burger-chucker, so cash was tight (smoking a lot of weed didn't help there either). But you could get some reasonably cheap audio recording stuff, that with an ok microphone could be hidden in my shirt. So I started a log of Bitchqueen and MonsterBitch's antics in the store, it was nearly 8 months of recordings in total before the fan was struck by faeces. While they didn't direct much at me anymore I was able to capture multi-minute rants from both of those awful harpies on almost every shift for about six months, in one recording I got Bitchqueen ranting at a co-worker for about 20 mins and then me for another 30 mins or so after I redirected her towards me. They would call workers (almost always men, but any woman who had turned them down got some shit thrown their way too), stupid, useless and worthless etc, with lots of fun adult words mixed in. They also got into the habit of threatening everyone they dislike with firing.

I also got a lot of audio from young women about how creepy and sexually inappropriate MonsterBitch, Bitchqueen and their little gang of “lesbian” managers (most of them were or had dated men, so Bi I guess, but horrible humans regardless of their orientations) were to the women who worked for us. I got several direct statements about female co-workers being abused and told to keep quiet by the abuse gang members on various girls nights out, and a few of them referred to bad things happening at MonsterBitch's house when they were too drunk to remember everything. Basically we had a blackmail and rape gang operating in our midst!

The final attack on me came when I was called into work by AwesomeManager and told I was being investigated for smoking weed on shift. While I did smoke a lot of weed at the time I never went to work high (food you get fired for eating without permission and the munchies don't mix), and anyway that day in particular the accusation was dated was one where I hadn't had any for a couple of days or been able to sort any out for a smoke after work either. So I was totally truthful when I was asked about it by AwesomeManager, and she said that because of the bullying she was escalating this to SAM, so she “suspended” me on full pay pending an investigation. The next day SAM called me and asked me to come for a formal interview, as the first part of the information finding process. He also said TheBigMan was on shift and would be happy to be my witness. So I went down and sat in the crew room waiting for SAM with TheBigMan. SAM stuck his head around the door and said “Deny everything to do with weed!” and winked. He stepped out again and then opened the door with a serious face and asked myself and TheBigMan to come through to the back office. We went through a few questions and I answered everything truthfully (pretty sure SAM thought I was smoking that day but gave no fucks about weed) and the interview ended with SAM reinstating me, paying me for the previous day and the interview day and giving me another store to fix for two weeks to get me away from Bitchqueen and the pack of harpies.

When I was back from the failing store, but not working that Monday, I got a call from ShyNSweet. MB and BQ had told her she had to come to their “Girls only” house party that Friday (it was going to be a BBQ and probably a lot of raping drunk girls by hostile lesbians). The rape gang had been telling all the attractive girls to go to the party or “think about finding a new job if you can't be a team player”. (MB, BQ and another horror worked at our store, the other 3 worked at a nearby store)

And that was the straw that broke the proverbial camels back! I had those awful bitches!

I had organised the audio files into groups by person and topic, I had over 10 hours of insults and abuse recorded and I had nearly another 10 hours of staff telling me how they had been abused by BQ, MB and their pack of rapists.

I called SAM and told him I had to speak to him that day, he agreed and we met at a competitors store (I think they have a kingdom of burger chuckers ;) ) at lunchtime where I sat him down in front of my awful (at the time super cutting edge lol) laptop and had him listen to bits of the rape allegations first.

He started shaking with rage after about 30 seconds, stopped it and told me to go to the police.

I then started on the abusing rants messages and he listened to bits of a bunch of them and asked for copies of those files. I had already burned them to CD so I handed them over and went to the police station.

I asked for a woman police officer and had her listen to the abuse allegations. She took a CD copy of those and told me to be quiet while the investigated. I said fine, but that this Friday the rape gang would have a number of under 18's at an alcohol fuelled rape party. She asked for and got the address and details. I passed on the names of all the women who I knew for sure had been attacked in the past too, since the police wanted to contact them to confirm things, the police here never give out witness information so I was safe from retaliation.

The next Thursday I was on a late shift, so I arrived around 15:15 and when I got there the store was shut but the staff were inside. I got let in and told what had happened.

MonsterBitch and Bitchqueen had been on day shifts and were apparently non-stop talking about how great their girls only party would be, how any girl who had a boyfriend would dump him after spending the night with them, and how any women who didn't attend were basically traitors to womankind. After about 6 hours of this, and at around 14:00 6 police officers come into the store and arrest MonsterBitch and BitchQueen on suspicion of sexual assault, blackmail, extortion and assault. They were both removed in handcuffs and SAM was there just after the police to shut them out of the computers and officially suspend them. When I arrived they were just getting set to re-open so we got back to work.

Later I got more info on the case, my best friends older brother was in the police force locally and he kept us updated. MB's rape house was raided, the police found lots of videos of what was clearly assaults on drunk and non-consenting women. They got lots of text message evidence for planning sexual assaults and talking about how to control young female employees to get them to have sex with the rapists. They also had lots of threatening messages to victims to be quiet or face revenge/loss of job etc. All their victims were under 20, with most being 16-18. But the deepest fuck up for them came from this evidence, and I had no idea when I got this all in motion.

MonsterBitch had picked up a young woman from a club a few months earlier. This young lady was up for lesbian sex with MB, BQ and another friend, while a fourth on filmed it. But the young lady was 15 and just looked over 18 with makeup etc. So the rape gang had produced child porn inadvertently.

MB, BQ and all the other managers who were involved were fired after the arrests/charges.

They were all charged with a number of things, but the courts back then were even more lenient to female sexual offenders than they are now, so none of them saw prison. But they were all banned from working with children, or in an environment where children will be present, and the ones who were married/in a relationship were all divorced/broken up inside a year. Because of the UK laws at the time they were also not named publicly.

I know Bitchqueen never really recovered or grew past this, I see her now and again if I visit my mother, and she is still beautiful, but so clearly broken its almost sad.

ShyNSweet was my girlfriend for a year or so a few years later, we parted on good terms as she was off to study overseas.

AwesomeManager went on to be a store manager, and then a Pro Dominatrix, which wasn't a real surprise to me ;) She was/is a fun lady

TheBigMan, went on to run an IT dept in a large company, still a top bloke!

And I ended up in a field I love, being paid actual money to more or less mess about all day, and that is doing my job! :)

(source) (story by burgerchucker)

[niennavalier]

Okay I wasn’t planning on doing a DS9 rant post but here it is, under the cut in case I get annoying about DS9 and romance and Julian in particular

Okay, so I swear, the writers went into the show with this idea that Julian Bashir was gonna be this fresh-out-of-med-school brilliant, attractive doctor with charm to spare and something like this ladies’ man kinda attitude. Maybe (hopefully) not that sleazy, but still. And then it didn’t really work in season 1 in regards to Jadzia, so they dropped that storyline (thank fuck).

But then it’s so weird when I think they’re trying to kinda keep it alive through the show, except it literally never really works quite right? Even though the DS9 writers are legitimately good with writing the other romances on the show?? Kira and Odo? Absolutely adorable, I would die for them. Jadzia and Worf? Who would’ve that that’d work? Not me! But I’d die for them too!

(Yes, all of these characters have other romantic interests at times, some good - like Lenara Kahn - and others less so - Bareil is really boring and Lwaxana Troi DID NOT need to be there - but they also get these fantastic long-term stories)

Meanwhile, for my favorite doctor? I might be missing some but here’s what I could think of whilst typing: Melora was...sorta forgettable (I forgot about the episode until I was just scrolling through all of them). Technically fine but...forgettable. Leeta...honestly I never understood this pairing. I legitimately don’t remember ever seeing them get together on screen; best I recall, they were just together one day and we were supposed to just accept it. Which...whatever, I’m not a fan, and this pairing did nothing for either of them. Serena, I actually liked; they were cute together in that one episode, but at the same time I’m torn because I truly believe the writers made the right choice in that she had to experience the world for herself. For all the cuteness, I much prefer her discovering her own self-worth and think that’s better for her as her own character.

And then. There’s Dax. The first couple seasons? Awkward as fuck. No thanks. But then him and Jadzia become like, best science buddies! And he painfully third-wheels for her date with Lenara in Rejoined! And it’s like “wow now that’s true friendship right there”. And I loved that relationship so much! We watched Julian grow up a lot since the pilot, and honestly, him becoming best friends with Jadzia matched that change really well. Going from this kinda juvenile crush and strange persistence to a much more mature friendship. I mean, there’s one episode (which I can’t place at the moment) where there’s some crisis on the station and they’re hiding somewhere, she’s hurt, and they’re both freezing. And he’s holding her, and she makes some comment on how past-him would’ve used this as an opportunity to try and spark something between them. But present-him isn’t like that anymore, and watching as the audience, there truly isn’t weird romantic tension between them. It’s intimacy and familiarity and comfort without the weight of romance. And it’s perfect.

But then all of a sudden, the back half of season 6 starts happening, and apparently he’s always loved her? And it’s like...where did this come from?? You were doing so well, writers, what happened?? It just...suddenly brought back all the awkwardness of season 1, except at least this time, he’s not acting on it. So instead it’s just weirdly angsty and 100% out of left field. (Also Quark loves her, which is random but less concerning to me cause at least it wasn’t reviving an abandoned plot point, like with Julian) (The Quark point isn’t relevant, but I just felt like saying it)

And that whole thing just put the biggest pit in my stomach, cause I knew about Ezri joining them in season 7 and I was just like “nooo pleeeease don’t get him together with Ezri”

Apparently I just live to be disappointed.

Full disclosure, I actually haven’t fully watched the scene where they get together, but my roommate did end up coming upon a scene of them together in bed, and I’m not that stupid. Bonus: I’m about 6 away from the end, and that in itself is kinda concerning, because now I’m double concerned that it’s gonna be rushed even worse than I thought it would. Because, as of now, she has had barely any contact with Julian, outside of just being part of the senior staff (aka being a main character). I can honestly only actively remember them having one conversation, which just existed for her to say that if Worf hadn’t shown up, then Jadzia would’ve chosen Julian. Which...okay...what now? Worf didn’t show up until season 5, wtf is this about? If Jadzia was actually in love with Julian, she would’ve done something about it. Jadzia Dax is NOT passive about what she wants, and it’s what makes her such a joy to watch. She’s even willing to act against her own culture out of her love for Lenara, despite hesitation because yeah, that’s a lot of risk. She’s willing to leave her friends to be with the dude she met in that weird world that blipped between universes. She acts with her heart and without fear, even in situations where there are barriers stopping her from doing what she wants. There was never such a barrier with her and Julian, so yeah, no, if she’d wanted him - truly wanted him - she would’ve gone for it.

The scene only exists for them to try and justify putting him together with Ezri, and it SUCKS on every conceivable level.

(Also yes, I know they have some other, normal conversations, but they’re never particularly interesting or impactful, so I don’t remember them, and that probably says something in and of itself)

For one, their lack of conversation and just...general shared screentime is so small that I can’t buy the idea that the two of them actually know each other that well. Even if they did bond off-screen, thus far, the show itself never actually gives any evidence of that while they ARE on screen. They have the same level of chemistry that Julian and Kira should have (although, strangely, the characters have much better chemistry than their screentime would seem to indicate but...well they were married IRL so...yeah). Friendly colleagues, but that’s really it. And yet, he’s gonna fall in love with her?

I don’t think so.

He’s in love with Jadzia (apparently. but that’s a different complaint, seen above). He’s in love with a past life of the Dax symbiont. That past life just happens to be contained now within Ezri, and it’s the only conceivable reason I have for why he’s interested in her at all. Realistically, had Ezri Tegan never become Ezri Dax, I doubt Julian would’ve had the same thoughts about her. Granted, people can meet by circumstance and fall in love - I’m not shitting on that idea - and I’m not implying that Julian is a dick by any means, but the show itself doesn’t give us any reason that he would fall for her. Like...what traits of Ezri does Julian find himself attracted to, aside from the fact she was once Jadzia? I don’t think the show ever actually gives any answer to that question. She may carry some shades of Jadzia’s habits and idiosyncrasies and such, because that’s how joined Trill work, but she’s also very much still Ezri. And, for the sake of her character, that should be really important? So, frankly, it’s actually just...really insulting to Ezri? That she’s not loved for who she is, but who the Dax host was. And that’s honestly just awful.

And I actually just thought of this while writing this post and complaining about that one conversation, but it also sucks for Julian a bit, too? Like, the way Ezri phrases that one line - “If Worf hadn’t come along, it would’ve been you” - it feels to me like he was very much the second choice. And...would that not feel awful to be told that? Basically that you were someone else’s back-up plan. I mean, I can’t speak from experience, but I can’t imagine that feels good. And plus, now he knows that Jadzia apparently had those feelings for him, which Ezri now carries with her. Which...wouldn’t something about that just feel wrong? These aren’t Ezri’s feelings exactly; she’s just stuck with them. And Julian is fundamentally a good person who has some idea of how the Trill work; wouldn’t this be a little like he’s...not quite using her, but allowing her to act on feelings that aren’t actually, truly hers? So the situation ends up being that she might not really love him, not as Ezri, and that would really suck for both of them.

Granted, that’s not to say she couldn’t decide that on her own; she totally could, but the show hasn’t laid the groundwork for that. And it’s also not to discredit feelings that linger from past hosts. Jadzia and Lenara are drawn to each other because of Torias and Neilani, but they also do legitimately fall in love with the people they are now and bond over their shared interests in their present forms. Honestly, the show even makes this distinction? When Ezri and Worf are stuck together, they definitely sleep together, but the show makes it fairly clear that it’s pent up tension from the two of them not talking, combined with the fact he and Jadzia were newly married. I’m pretty sure they decide it’s not really something to pursue; it was just what happened out of old instincts, not out of actual love between the two people actually involved.

Mostly, I take issue because of the first sentence of that last paragraph. The show just never sets it up. If it showed her and Julian having chemistry, I’d have far fewer complaints about this. (For fuck’s sake, I think she had a deeper conversation with JORAN. THE MURDERER. Than she really did with Julian. Now that’s a problem)

Long story short: they really shouldn’t have kept trying to shoe-horn romance in for Julian. All of his stories work better without, particularly in the long-term. The chemistry is just...never there with his long-term potential partners the writers throw at him. He really does have the best chemistry with Miles and Garak. That’s all fantastic.

(Which is to also say: I get that it was the 90s but I really wish we could’ve gotten our disaster bi doctor and his lizard spy boyfriend. Just saying)

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The Untold Truth Of Kitchen Nightmares@|what happens to restaurants after kitchen nightmares@|https://www.mashed.com/img/gallery/the-untold-truth-of-kitchen-nightmares/intro-1525718012.jpg@|25

FOX

There’s nothing quite like turning on a cooking show and hearing the dulcet sounds of Gordon Ramsay screaming at a befuddled chef. One of Ramsay’s most popular profanity-riddled shows was Kitchen Nightmares, where the hot-tempered Scottish chef and TV personality helped struggling and failing restaurants, mainly by shouting at them about fresh produce and frozen appetizers, while the owners crossed their arms stubbornly. By the end of the episode, the restaurant’s inedible food and sub-par service were (usually) transformed and saved from extinction by crippling debt or sub-par Yelp reviews.

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Even though this popular restaurant makeover show was cancelled in 2014, there are still plenty of behind-the-scenes secrets that you probably never knew about Kitchen Nightmares. From how the reality show was filmed (and how much of it was actually reality) to how well restaurants fared after Ramsay’s team took over their kitchen, this is the untold truth of FOX’s Kitchen Nightmares.

Most of the Kitchen Nightmares eateries are now closed

Photo courtesy of FOX

Although Gordon Ramsay spent a glorious six-and-a-half seasons transforming restaurants from one-star duds to passable eateries, apparently his professional magic wore off quickly for many of the restaurants that appeared on the show.  

In 2014, shortly after Kitchen Nightmares was canceled, The Daily Mail reported that 60 percent of the restaurants that appeared on the show had closed.

“You don’t ask to take part in a show called Kitchen Nightmares if your restaurant business is booming and therefore it is not surprising that many of the restaurants which Gordon has visited over the ten years are now closed,” a spokesperson for Ramsay told The Daily Mail at the time.

We did a quick update on those statistics for 2018 and found that only 15 restaurants out of the 77 that appeared on the show between 2007 and 2014 are still open. That means that for nearly 81 percent of these restaurants the “nightmare” is over.

One restaurant closed before the Kitchen Nightmares episode even aired

As we now know, most of the restaurants that appeared on Kitchen Nightmares didn’t exactly go on to have successful runs. But some of the restaurants fared worse than others. According to The Daily Mail’s report, some restaurants were closed mere months after filming. One restaurant — The Black Pearl in New York — closed just four days after their episode aired. But there is one featured restaurant that takes the cake as the unluckiest of them all: Lela’s in Pomona, California closed before viewers even saw the episode.

Before the episode aired, one blogger noted that Lela’s website and contact information had been taken offline. According to Screen Rant, the restaurant already faced struggles before Gordon Ramsay got in the door, and was facing bankruptcy after only eight months in business. After the episode was over, a message flashed on viewers’ screens saying that,  “the restaurant’s debts were too much and it closed.”

One restaurant owner said that Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares makeover “ruined” his restaurant

Although many of the restaurants featured on the show were happy to receive Ramsay’s help, one chef in particular didn’t mince words when it came to criticizing the changes the chef and his team made when he appeared on Kitchen Nightmares.

In an interview with The National Enquirer, John Chapman — restaurateur and owner of Chappy’s on Church, featured in season six — said, “it was truly a kitchen nightmare for me. Gordon Ramsay destroyed my business!”

Chapman said that Ramsay “hated everything” and redid the entire menu, replacing more authentic Creole fare with cheeseburgers and fried chicken. “My cus­tomers hated it,” he said, and told The National Enquirer that business went from about 200 customers a night to a mere table of patrons per evening. Chapman repeated his story to multiple news outlets, including Biz Journals and FOX News.

Chappy’s on Church closed in June 2013 for nonpayment of taxes, a mere month after the episode aired.

Gordon Ramsay has been sued multiple times by participants on Kitchen Nightmares

FOX

John Chapman isn’t the only restaurant owner who was unhappy with the outcome of the show. Gordon Ramsay has been sued multiple times for his (sometimes explosive) temper by unhappy restaurant owners and chefs on the show.

In 2008, Ramsay was sued for £500,000 ($679,000 USD) for calling a restaurant manager “a lazy t*****.” Martin Hyde was the restaurant manager at Dillons — a restaurant in New York City — and said that he was reamed out by Ramsay even though he had no responsibility for the kitchen, and mostly looked after the bar and restaurant events.

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“Being ridiculed by Gordon Ramsay on TV has wrecked my life,” Hyde told The Daily Mail. “My reputation is in tatters and nobody wants to employ me.”

In 2014, another show participant sued Ramsay after he and the show’s host had “an explosive row,” according to The Mirror. Joe Naggy, who owned the Norwalk, Ohio restaurant, Mill Street Bistro, sued Ramsay and his crew for damages to the restaurant, including a gutted ceiling that was never fixed, and received £900 ($1,233) in compensation.

The famous Amy’s Baking Company episode of Kitchen Nightmares was not staged

Do you remember that episode of Kitchen Nightmares where the owners were wackier than usual? The Amy’s Baking Company episode of Kitchen Nightmares is probably the most infamous in the show’s history, and the conflict was so severe that the crew didn’t even get to complete their transformation. The shenanigans didn’t end when the credits rolled either: The owners of the now-closed eatery were notorious for threatening customers who left bad Yelp reviews and for posting long rants on social media.

Although Amy’s Baking Company is now closed, apparently their antics were just as off-the-wall as they appear in the show. One Medium blogger who was there during the filming of the two-part episode, said that the “epic blowouts” from owners Amy and Samy were “100% true to form and not doctored for TV.” Although blogger Greg Taylor said that the food was “just ok,” the owner’s behavior when he threw a tantrum was “shocking.”

Gordon Ramsay’s temper only explodes when he is on camera on Kitchen Nightmares

Ramsay may be infamous for his “nightmarish” behavior on his shows, including Kitchen Nightmares and Hell’s Kitchen, but apparently most of his on-air tantrums and profanity-laced rants are hammed up for the camera.

According to one show crew member who did an AMA (Ask Me Anything) on Reddit in 2013, you’ll rarely see Ramsay get angry when the cameras are turned off, although he said that Ramsay’s temper is real (even if it is edited later on):

“You never see him get mad off camera, but that’s because he doesn’t have a reason to,” the former “Kitchen Nightmares” the crew member said. “The only time I saw him explode was during the dinner service when the kitchen staff was serving food that was a legitimate health risk […] He only gets mad when he has a reason to, otherwise he’s a very funny and nice dude. You can even see that in all of his UK shows. The US versions like to selectively edit to play up drama.”

Restaurant owners don’t interact much with Gordon Ramsay on Kitchen Nightmares

FOX

Even though you may think of the show Kitchen Nightmares as Gordon Ramsay’s show, one couple who appeared on the show in season three, said in a 2010 interview with The New Jersey Record that they mostly interacted with Ramsay’s team and crew, and barely conversed with the famous TV chef at all:

“You have no interaction with Ramsay at all. He comes with a very big machine of assistants and helpers. The only time that I ever spent any time with him was on camera.”

The couple also pointed out that the producers of Kitchen Nightmares would generally try to stir up drama by asking them pointed questions like, “If this fails now, how can you stay with your husband?”

The couple ended up being happy with the way that Ramsay’s team “set their restaurant up for long-term success.” However, their restaurant, Bazzini, in Ridgewood, New Jersey is now closed.

It’s not the same Kitchen Nightmares the UK originally got

You’re familiar with the Kitchen Nightmares formula, right? Ramsay comes into a failing restaurant, berates owners and staff alike, and bullies them into being better. There’s a lot of swearing, a lot of name-calling, and the sort of abuse you sort of always wanted to see heaped on authority figures. Only, that’s not what you get at all in the original UK version — and The AV Club took a look at the differences.

When they watched the original UK version, they found a totally different Ramsay. The swearing, the cursing, and the yelling was gone, for the most part. He worked with restaurant owners, instead of coming in like a bulldozer. The narration was Ramsay himself, and it was Ramsay that seemed to know many were trying their best, they just had no clue how to fix what had gone wrong. There was some yelling, sure, but nothing on the scale of the US version. He’s so different you’ll have to wonder if he’s actually someone else wearing a Gordon Ramsay skin-suit, and it’s a shame Americans don’t get to see that side of him very often.

One restaurant owner from Kitchen Nightmares had mob ties

During the first season of Kitchen Nightmares, in 2007, Ramsay and his team actually gave a helping hand to an ex-mobster. Peter’s was a New York restaurant featured on an episode where the problem was the owner’s extravagant spending. It only came out later, when Gang Land News (via Cosa Nostra News) uncovered an FBI report from 2003 that said Peter “Pasta” Pellegrino had been a recently made man associated with the Bonanno crime family.

According to the Cosa Nostra News, Peter Pasta had already been kicked out of the family by the time he was on Kitchen Nightmares, as he had apparently been “falsely labeled ‘a rat’, with all its obvious nasty ramifications and ugly possibilities hanging over his head.”

It may have been for the best that Pellegrino had already been ousted by the mob before he saw how his episode turned out, as he had nothing good to say about the way he was portrayed. “That makes me look like… some kind of an animal, and worse. It’s a real-life nightmare,” he told Gang Land News.

Customers on Kitchen Nightmares are paid

There have been a lot of accusations leveled at Ramsay and Kitchen Nightmares, including claims that the show’s team plants a lot of the rotten food he “finds” and that all of those incredibly grossed-out customers that sit down to eat are paid actors. According to The Guardian, Ramsay doesn’t take the accusations lightly, and after one newspaper published stories about fakery, he sued for libel and won.

But there’s one claim that might have some weight to it, and that’s the one where customers are said to be paid actors. It’s likely a half-truth, if the fine print of the credits is to be believed.

Reality Blurred picked up on the disclaimers, written in the credits that most of us fast-forward through. One reads, “The producers may have provided customers at the restaurant with a financial contribution towards the cost of their meal.”

What, exactly, that means isn’t clear, and while it doesn’t suggest they’re actors, they are getting compensated for being on the show. But isn’t that fair? You wouldn’t want to pay for some of the food these places are serving up pre-Ramsay, would you?

One Kitchen Nightmares restaurant sued him twice

Roy Rochlin/Getty Images

It’s no secret that the restaurants on Kitchen Nightmares don’t feature the kinds of kitchens you’d want your food coming out of… not at first, at least. So, it’s also not surprising that some have taken issue with the way they’re portrayed — perhaps none more strongly than Oceana Grill.

The New Orleans seafood joint has sued Ramsay not once, but twice.

According to Today, the first lawsuit came in 2011. The owners of Oceana didn’t want the episode to air because they felt they had been misrepresented — and in case you’re wondering just which episode this was, you know the infamous clip: Ramsay vomiting after getting a whiff of some supposedly rotten shrimp. The episode still made it to air, but there were concessions made in the form of a settlement where the show’s producers agreed that if footage from Oceana was used in the future, the restaurant would be paid for it. They were also required to update viewers to the changes made at the restaurant any time they were featured. 

The second lawsuit came in 2018, when the Kitchen Nightmares British Facebook page posted that infamous, aforementioned clip with the caption, “No wonder this restaurant is failing…” Oceana and their legal team took issue with the fact that the post made it look like the restaurant was still in the same state it was seven years prior (which they called “largely fabricated in the first place.”) Lesson? Be careful what you post on Facebook.

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Yes, there are some success stories from Kitchen Nightmares

Sure, Kitchen Nightmares is a little notorious for its failure rate, but there are some major success stories.

Like Pantaleone’s, the Denver pizza place with an owner who just couldn’t understand why no one was coming in the door. It was the typical Kitchen Nightmares mess: denial, stress, and struggle. Fast forward to after filming, and the Gazette Review says the pizza place went on to become a success. Sure, there’s still some grumbling, but based on their TripAdvisor and Yelp reviews, they’re consistently 4-5 stars.

Also still open is Cafe Hon, featured in Season 5 and run by an owner who had managed to alienate much of the town with her attempts at trademarking the word “hon.” They’ve got around a 3.5 rating on TripAdvisor now, and a 2.5 on Yelp, which means they’re not a huge hit — but they’re not out of business, either.

Yanni’s Greek Cuisine is still open, too, from Season 6. The hundreds of reviews on Yelp have them sitting at a comfortable 4 stars, while TripAdvisor has them at 4.5. Not all the restaurants Kitchen Nightmares have visited reverted back to their old ways and for some, the experience truly was life-changing.

The suicide of one restaurant owner had an eerie connection to the Kitchen Nightmares episode

In 2007, Kitchen Nightmares visited Campania, an Italian restaurant in New Jersey where the problem was a boss that was too laid-back to tell employees what needed to be done to make them successful. When NJ.com ran a follow-up article with the headline “Joe Cerniglia of Campania survived Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares“, he didn’t have anything bad to say about the experience. But they had no idea what kind of terrible foreshadowing the headline held.

In 2010, ABC News reported that chef Joe Cerniglia had committed suicide. It was only a day later that the New York Post (via Fox News) connected his personal problems to an affair he’d been having with a pastry chef at the restaurant (amid a separation from his wife), and only a day after that E! News found he’d had previous issues with cocaine and narcotics.

The tragedy happened a few years after Kitchen Nightmares, but news outlets were quick to point out something eerie: Ramsay had told him “Your business is about to f*****g swim down the Hudson”… which was precisely where his body was discovered.

If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at +61404532026-TALK (8255).

That time Gordon Ramsay tricked a vegetarian into eating ham on Kitchen Nightmares

The decision to go vegetarian isn’t one for everyone, but it’s simple enough to respect it. Ramsay got quite a bit of heat from the media after the airing of a UK episode of Kitchen Nightmares at La Lanterna in Hertfordshire (via The Telegraph), because of a cruel “prank” played on one vegetarian on the show.

The incident involved volunteers, including one eight-year vegetarian, recruited on the street to sample pizzas from the featured restaurant. When it was time to try the pizza, Ramsay assured a volunteer that one was, in fact, vegetarian. After the man ate it, he clarified… it was vegetarian except for the ham. Ramsay laughed as the man ran off, and a slew of celebrity chefs condemned the disrespect.

The Guardian was quick to point out just how bad an example he was setting, asking if he would have played the same “joke” on someone who avoided certain foods for religious reasons or because of allergies. When it comes to food, it shouldn’t be a case of ‘do as I say, not as I do’.

Here’s why his failure rate for Kitchen Nightmares is really so high

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For all the restaurants that do fail after a Gordon Ramsay-led makeover on Kitchen Nightmares, it seems a little mind-boggling from the viewer’s point of view. But Gene Marks of the small business consulting firm The Marks Group says (via Entrepreneur) that there’s something going on here that viewers don’t see.

He says that running a successful restaurant is about more than just good food, it’s the ability to think on the fly, to organize, to manage, to market, and make the tough business decisions that pop up on a daily basis. Some of that can be taught, but some can’t. What it comes down to is that some people have the innate ability to run a successful business, and some don’t — but everyone seems to think they’ve got what it takes to run a restaurant. According to Marks, it doesn’t matter how good a menu is, if there’s not that innate business acumen, it just isn’t going to work. 

He’s got a different take on the numbers, too. Marks says: “… a whopping 60 percent of the restaurants Ramsay tried to help failed after his visit. Does this surprise you? […] Based on my experiences, I would’ve thought that the number was higher. The fact that it’s only a 60 percent failure rate is a testament to Ramsay’s abilities.”

Gordon Ramsay regrets ending Kitchen Nightmares

FOX

Are you a Kitchen Nightmares superfan who misses the show? Ramsay feels your pain. The popular show that launched Ramsay’s TV career ended in 2014 in part because Ramsay was tired of the restaurants he fixed reverting back to their old ways and failing (which may explain why so many of the restaurants closed since their episodes aired!).

In an interview with The New York Daily News in 2017, Ramsay explained that he was tired of the criticism he was getting from fans for Kitchen Nightmares restaurants closing left and right.

“I got fed up with Kitchen Nightmares because I was getting s***,” he said. “So I woke up one morning and I thought ‘f*** it, I’m done.’ ”

He added his remorse at the decision to pull his own show off the air, which was admittedly made in anger: “Yes it was wrong to pull my own show off air, but that’s it.”

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