#the cop friendship thing was lame as fuck

[filmcel]

renfield was dookie poops

[autosadist]

i lost an old friend kinda recently because their line in the sand was my take on public sex and it was so fucking lame i will not lie. we both have childhood sexual trauma but had different perspectives on the question of "what do u do if u go to the park with ur kid and at some point u see a couple people fucking on the outskirts." my take there was "who cares, just walk ur kid somewhere else," they thought that simply witnessing a glimpse of it was somehow damaging, friendship ended over that, and not by my decision. can't figure out if it's a waste or if i dodged a bullet but lbr this is the sort of thing you can probably work past if you decide you actually want to try. the safety of a lot of people kind of depends upon people not being poisoned with cop brain about public sex

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Heart. Sick. (m, cold)

clearly the clicky clacky keyboard helped my writers block because here I am, back to churning out a 5k fic in one day lmao. this is a Greyson-centric one, and tbh it's a lot of exposition, and a lot of character development. but don't worry - Greyson is plenty miserable throughout 😅 I hope you guys like these ones that are a little more plot-driven! I honestly set out to write fluff but it wanted to be a drama fest. classic. enjoy!

Cw: male, cold, some mess, coughing, sick character galavanting about instead of just going to bed, implied contagion

“What is your problem today?”

Greyson’s head snapped up at the sound of his boss’s voice. He raised an eyebrow and put down his knife; this seemed like the kind of conversation that required his full attention. “What?” he asked, brilliantly.

Elijah crossed his arms. He had been leaning against the prep table, but straightened up to his full height when the chef regarded him. “You’ve been here for an hour and you haven’t even stopped in the office to say hi,” he said. Did he hear how lame and codependent he sounded? Yes. But that was their friendship – lame, codependent, and most of all consistent. Greyson always made the office his first stop when he got in; they checked in with one another, mapped out the day, traded stories from the night before if one of them had been off. Not having his morning gossip session with Greyson made Elijah feel like he was living in a weird, wrong, nega-dimension, and he didn’t want that to become a thing.

The chef huffed out a laugh. “Seriously?” he asked, picking his knife back up. “I have a lot of shit to do today, Lij,” he said. “Matt called out.”

“Oh,” Elijah said, immediately feeling stupid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am telling you,” Greyson said, looking pointedly up at his boss. “Right now.”

Elijah bit his tongue; this was exactly what he meant. Greyson wasn’t himself today. Matt calling out was obviously stressful, but the chef never let things like that make him angry, or short, or snippy. Something was definitely off – he didn’t know what, but it was definitely something.

“Did he say why?” Elijah asked as Greyson continued to chop. Greyson stopped short again and looked back up.

“Why what?”

“Why he called out.”

“Who?”

“Jesus Christ, Greyson,” Elijah threw his hands in the air. “Did you smoke a bowl the second before you walked in today? Matt. Did Matt say why he was calling out?”

“Oh,” Greyson said, turning once again to his prep work. “Yeah, some sort of flu thing. I said if he has a fever he can’t come in.”

Ah. There it was.

Greyson and Matt were what everyone in the restaurant affectionately called the plague rats – that is to say, they were the ones who brought any illness that was roaming around New York City into the restaurant, ad infinitum. They were the partiers, the club kids (though Greyson, at thirty-one should have reached the end of his club kid stage years ago), the chronic sleepers-around, and the past few months, it had gone from going out a couple times a week, to going out every single night. Hardly a month went by that the two of them weren’t complaining of a sore throat, a cold sore, a stomach bug that they’d been gifted by one of their many nights out.

And, of course, they never went out partying without one another.

“Did he seem okay last night when you guys went out?” Elijah asked, the question so pointed it may as well have been an accusation. Greyson shrugged, covered up the last of the prepped vegetables with plastic wrap, and slid them into the reach-in cooler below the prep station.

“Maybe a little off,” Greyson said. “He didn’t mention anything.”

“What time did you guys leave?” Elijah asked. Greyson gave his boss an incredulous look.

“What are you, a cop? I don’t know, mom, one or two? What difference does it make?”

Elijah recoiled a bit at the chef’s snappiness. “Christ, sorry, just trying to suss out whether he’s actually sick or just hungover.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Greyson asked, pushing his hair back into a small ponytail and tying it with a rubber band Elijah knew came from a package of asparagus. “He’s not coming in, that’s all we really need to know, right? Are we gonna track him down and fire him if he’s hungover?”

“You are on one today,” Elijah said. “No, we’re not going to fucking track him down, Jesus Christ.” This time, Elijah went for an honesty-is-the-best-policy approach. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re in a mood because you have extra work to do, or because you feel like shit.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and breezed past Elijah. He yanked open the walk-in and stepped inside, his boss hot on his trail. The chef grabbed two heads of cauliflower and a few bunches of radishes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to see Elijah practically on top of him. “Stop following me,” he growled, pushing past Elijah again.

“Greyson,” Elijah said to the rapidly-closing walk-in door. He pressed the red button to let himself out, and once again tailed the chef to the prep table. “Greyson, I just want to know if you’re alright,” Elijah said, keeping a healthy distance. Greyson took a deep breath and put down his knife.

“I am fine. Matt will be back tomorrow. Please, let me do my work. Ple – hh...hhNGSTHH-uhh!” Greyson crushed the sudden sneeze into his shoulder, picked up his knife, and continued his work, not acknowledging it at all. Elijah bit his cheek.

“Bless you,” the older man said, accusatory.

“Elijah,” Greyson said, not looking up, “leave me alone.”

Elijah nodded, not that Greyson could see it while he chopped. The GM turned, walked back to the office, and pulled out his phone to text Matt.

Hey, he typed into their chat. Heard you’re sick, hope you’re getting some rest.

Thx boss, Matt typed back almost-instantly. Should be good by tomorrow.

Elijah paused before sending his next text, but then did it before he could question himself too much. Just wanted to ask...was grey acting weird with you last night? He’s totally on one today.

It took a minute or two for Matt to text back – the three bubbles popped up and went away at least three times, as though Matt was trying to figure out what to say but kept second-guessing. Finally, the text came through.

Wait, is chef there today? He told me he was going to call shelly in.

Elijah cocked his head at the phone screen; Shelly, the sous chef Greyson had brought on a month ago, was scheduled off today. Why would he call her in?

No, it’s just greyson today. Why would he call shelly in?

This time, it took Matt no time to respond.

That asshole, he said he was going to take the day off.

I’m lost, Matt. Why would he take the day off…?

Another minute of bubbles popping up and going away ensued. When the text did come through, Elijah felt his face flame. That motherfucker, he thought, slamming his phone down, screen-up on the desk and stalking back to the prep kitchen.

On his open phone, the text from Matt: he gave me this shit. We literally went and had one drink, then he said he had to go bc he felt like trash. Fuckin greyson.

Fuckin’ Greyson. That was for damn sure.

***

He knew he was coming down with something on Monday, but it was one of those excruciatingly slow-to-come-on illnesses that made you wonder if you were actually just crazy, and this whole thing was in your head. A sneeze here, a rogue cough, the sore throat that came and went with several long drinks of water – for three days, Greyson gaslit himself, told himself he was imagining it, took Emergen-C and chalked it up to allergies.

“Morning, boss,” Matt had greeted him.

By the time Thursday – yesterday – had come around, it finally hit him properly. Greyson woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest, his head throbbing, and a lump in his throat to match the one in his stomach. He sighed as he got ready, loaded up on dayquil, and headed into work.

Greyson had returned the greeting with a rough, “HNGSTHH-ue!” and a sharp sniffle. Matt winced as his boss unpacked his knife bag.

“Yikes,” he said, “I guess that girl from the bar last night wasn’t just doing a lot of coke, then?”

“More like the guy I stayed the night with on Saturday didn’t just have a naturally deep and husky voice,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “It’s the world’s slowest-to-come-on cold, I swear. I’ve been almost sick since Monday.” He coughed into his sleeve for what felt like a long moment, came up to see a water bottle placed in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Matt said. “That makes sense, though,” he continued, “because I can definitely feel it coming on. Thought maybe it was allergies.”

“Sorry, kid,” Greyson said. “We’ll get you outta here early.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “If you’re here, I’m here, boss,” he said. The two of them had prepped in near-silence for awhile, before Greyson seemed to realize something was off.

“Has Elijah come back here yet this morning?” he asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Isn’t he off today? I think Mark said he had some sort of appointment.”

Greyson flashed Matt a little look and the sous chef blushed – Matt and Mark were very recently a thing, a fact that was clear to everyone in the restaurant and that the two of them were attempting to hide, as if any fling that took place within the confines of these walls was anything other than obvious. Greyson figured now wasn’t the time to bully his muse.

“Thank god he’s not here,” he said instead. “Elijah, I mean. I’m so sick of him giving me shit every time I have a stuffy no – NGTSHH-uh! Hh...HTSHH-ue! Fuck.” Greyson slunk away from his prep area to blow his nose, cough again, and wash his hands.

“Bless,” Matt said when Greyson made his way back to his station. “To be fair to Elijah -”

“No,” Greyson stopped Matt by holding up a hand. “We’re not talking about this.”

“I was just going to say, I mean, you have been out a lot since the whole… breakup situation.” The way Matt trailed off made it obvious that he immediately regretted bringing this up. Greyson sniffled, stayed silent for a few moments, and then sighed.

“You're one to talk. And besides, I don’t know how it’s my fault that every club in a five-mile-radius is a cesspool,” Greyson muttered, a lame attempt at a joke. Matt took the bait and huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t think Elijah blames you for the general grossness that is the midtown club scene,” he said. “I think he’s just worried about you.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had started as worry; worrying was one of Elijah’s greatest passions, after all. But it had been six months since Greyson and Collin had broken up, and in that time worry had turned to annoyance, which had led to what felt like resentment. A month before, Greyson had been laid up with strep throat, thanks to a girl who he swore was trying to steal his tonsils with how deep she shoved her tongue into his mouth, and Elijah didn’t even try to hide his distaste.

“Seriously, Grey?” he had asked when the chef stumbled into the restaurant sweating, shivering, and unable to speak. “Who over the age of twelve gets strep throat? What’s next, mono? Chicken pox? Run the gambit of diseases kids get from putting their hands in too many people’s mouths?”

Greyson knew it was stupid to go out drinking and partying every night; he knew he was too old, knew it was irresponsible, he knew he should be processing the breakup instead of drowning every feeling he had about it in booze and sex. He knew. But he just couldn’t do it. Collin was the first person he’d ever really loved; getting over the coldness with which his first love threw in the towel that was their relationship was easier said than done.

He certainly wasn’t going to tell Elijah of all people that. He loved the man; Elijah was his best friend, his business partner, the guy he called first when something amazing or devastating happened, but this was not his strong suit. Elijah was basically a nun when it came to all things partying; he prided himself on never having more than two drinks when they went out, never sleeping around, and being married to the restaurant. Greyson loved Elijah, but he knew that the GM just wouldn’t get it.

So, the reprieve from being harassed about his near-constant menagerie of illnesses was a welcome one. He and Matt had prepped, passing a box of tissues between them the entire time, they’d gotten through a relatively slow service and, like every night the past few months, they’d ended the evening at a bar a few blocks from Elliot’s.

Greyson wanted to want to be there, truly he did, but he didn’t have it in him. Maybe it was the thought of being the only chef in the next day – Matt was well and truly coming down with the cold Greyson had come in with – or maybe it was just that the constant barrage of illnesses was starting to wear on his body, but the thought of staying awake for another minute, let alone another few hours, made Greyson’s head pound.

“I’m gonna call it,” Greyson said, shooting back his whiskey and placing a twenty on the bar top. “Take the day tomorrow, alright?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What about you?” he asked, coughing into the back of his hand. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Greyson said, elbowing Matt playfully. “I’ll call Shelly in, okay? I’ll take the day, too.” It was a lie; Shelly wasn’t ready for the responsibility of running a Friday night, not even a slow one, but if it made Matt take a day off, it was worth it to lie.

“Alright,” Matt said, wary. “Well, have a good night, Chef. Feel better.”

“Same to you,” Greyson said. “Tell Mark I said night-night. Give him a little kiss for me, too.”

Matt’s face turned bright red. By the time he’d collected himself enough to respond, his boss was gone.

***

“Greyson!”

Elijah stomped his way through the kitchen, on the hunt. He reached the back kitchen before Greyson could hear him, and the chef was blowing his nose into a rough paper towel looking caught, like a deer in the headlights.

“You fuckin’ asshole,” Elijah said, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not sick,” Greyson said, sniffling and tossing the paper towel. His eyes, Elijah noticed now, were rimmed red, and his voice was low and gravelly. “It’s allergies.”

“Right,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “Contagious allergies? Allergies you passed along to Matt? For Christ’s sake, Greyson, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you lately, but you need to get it together. If Matt’s sick, that means Mark is going to get sick, then my entire front of house team gets it. What do you think you are, twenty-three years old? You can’t go out every single night and sleep around with anything that has a hole and also have an eighty-hour-a-week job. You’re not a kid, Greyson. This behavior? It’s childish. And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

Greyson stood there and took it, his mouth in a hard line. “Okay,” he said after a beat.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated. “You’re right. I’ll – hh! HhhIGSTZH-ue! Huh! HuhhESTCHZUE!” The chef sneezed painfully into his elbow, cleared his throat, and righted himself. “I’ll stop. It’s childish. Okay?” his voice was nasal, hoarse, and tight, as though he was on the verge of tears. All the fight Elijah had brought to the back kitchen was rung out of him like a washcloth at the end of a long bath.

“Um,” he said, “okay. Good. Now, go home. I’ll call in Shelly, I’m closing the books, it’ll be an easy night. Go rest so you can be good for the weekend.”

The chef just nodded, not making eye contact. “Heard,” he said, packing up his things. He didn’t beg to stay, didn’t insist that he was fine. He just picked up his bag, nodded at Elijah, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Elijah was so in shock, he didn’t even respond until Greyson was out the door. “Yeah,” he mumbled, blinking. “See you tomorrow.”

***

The pulse of the music thumped in time with Greyson’s headache; it was oddly soothing, if a little disconcerting how in tune the two were.

“I’ll take andother,” he called to the bartender as loudly as he could muster. The bartender nodded, brought the bottle over, and topped him off, smiling seductively all the while.

“This one’s on the house, love,” he said in a faint British accent that Greyson couldn’t decide was real or fake. “What’s your name?”

“You’re very cute,” Greyson slurred, all levity out the window three drinks ago. “But I’mb sick as a dog, and I’mb ndot trying to pass it around any mbore than I already have.”

The bartender laughed. “This job is worse than a daycare when it comes to germs,” he said over the thrum of the crowd and the bass of the music. “Pretty sure I’m immune to just about everything at this point.”

Greyson let a sloppy smile paint his face. “Mbust be ndice,” he said, taking a swallow of his drink, then turning to his elbow to cough. “I work in a kitchend, it’s just about as bad but I haven’t seemed to gain any immu – immu...huh...hhINGTZHH-ue! HTSHH-ue! HRSHH-ue!” Greyson pulled his white tshirt over his nose and mouth and ducked almost completely under the bar to sneeze. He swore under his breath, sucked in through his nose, and sat himself upright once again. The bartender tutted in sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he said, smiling slyly. “You should be in bed.”

He wasn’t wrong; after Elijah’s blowup, Greyson had certainly thought about doing the right thing, going home, crawling into bed and actually attempting to get better. It had only been noon when he left the restaurant, and if he didn’t have to be in til noon the next day, that was almost a full twenty-four hours that he could spend doing nothing except relaxing, resting… being alone with his thoughts…

Yeah, that wasn’t about to happen.

Instead, Greyson had walked forty blocks to Greenwich and had lunch at one of his favorite spots. He’d moved on to a coffee shop from there, writing in his little black notebook recipes that he wanted to try out at Elliot’s. After that, he’d stopped into a CVS and bought them out of dayquil; three or four swigs later, and he was on his phone rapidly texting anyone he’d slept with in the past two months to see if they wanted to hang out. They did not.

The failed attempts at a hookup sent him into a darker place than he’d like to admit, so Greyson decided four pm was late enough to start drinking, and he took a cab back to midtown to begin his nightly spiral. The bar with the cute bartender was stop number four of the evening; at stop two, the dayquil had worn off. By stop three, he was coughing every time he took too deep of a breath. This was the stop where he’d given up the facade of health and just allowed himself to be the grossest person at the bar – much to everyone but this bartender’s chagrin.

“Yeah,” he said to the bartender, “you’re probably right.”

The bartender winked and turned back to the other bar patrons, leaving Greyson to sit foggy-headed and cold, alone with his whiskey. He looked at the clock on his phone – 11:45PM. The restaurant was probably empty by now. He wondered if Elijah was still there, finishing up paperwork; he thought about texting him, then remembered the blowup again. Greyson put his phone away, pulled a fifty out of his wallet, and ducked out of the bar.

It was cold outside; it was barely September, but Greyson could definitely feel that fall was in the air. He didn’t realize until now that he’d forgotten his jacket at work. Fuck.

Greyson shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering – there was no way he was going to make it back to his apartment without a jacket. The chef looked up at the street signs and realized he was only a block or two from the restaurant. Fuck it, he thought, sneezing into his exposed elbow. I’m getting that jacket.

***

It had been a long shift.

Shelly was great, really – she was just young, and a little bit scared of the enormity of running a restaurant. Elijah had figured that out at about seven pm, when she was nearly in tears with just six tickets on the board. But they had gotten through it, with Elijah taking over expo and Shelly running inside middle. It was fine. Long? Yes. But fine.

At eleven, the restaurant had emptied and with it went the servers, cooks, and junior managers. Elijah finished up his paperwork, locked the front door, set the alarm, and sat down at the empty bar with a glass of whiskey – just him, the thrum of the heater, and the restaurant.

When he was feeling really low, Elijah would spend hours like this; just sitting at his bar, looking out into the dining room, reeling in what he had created. This space was his, a place that he had spent his entire life clawing upwards for, despite the drone of older restaurateurs telling him he was too young, or too poor, or too talentless to own his own place. Elijah hadn’t grown up with money, or support, or any kind of nepotism that would have propelled him into this field, but he’d grown up with something most people hadn’t – drive. Passion. An absolute need to succeed, despite it all. Sometimes he needed to remind himself of that.

He knew that no one could really understand his reasons for being as anal as he was about everything in the restaurant – not even Greyson, though his counterpart came close. Often, Elijah felt like he spent his life explaining himself; explaining why he wasn’t married or even dating at thirty-nine, explaining why things had to be done a certain way so that appliances and tables and chairs and glassware and plates would last as long as humanly possible; explaining why people should care about his restaurant, his vision. Sometimes, Elijah wished he didn’t have this fire inside him. This passion for his work. He knew damn well his life would be easier if he didn’t.

Elijah looked at his phone as midnight approached, thinking about the day, thinking about Greyson. He wished things had gone down differently this morning, but he know Greyson could be like a kid when it came to arguments – quick to forgive, quick to forget. Sometimes that made Elijah feel even worse; he wished the other man would scream back at him, give in to his baser desires like Elijah was so wont to do when it came to arguing. Greyson saved those more carnal instincts for after work, Elijah supposed.

It would be worked out by tomorrow, whether Elijah wanted it to or not. He sighed, drained his glass, and went to turn off the lights behind the bar – when the alarm began blaring.

Elijah froze in his tracks. Who the fuck was breaking into the restaurant?

The GM burst through the doors to the kitchen and ran towards the back, absolutely nothing to defend him in his hands. If he was defending his restaurant, he was doing so with his bare hands; he’d figuratively clawed his way up to this position, he would certainly literally claw someone’s eyes out if they attempted to take it from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Elijah heard someone at the back door before he saw them. He slowed his pace when he heard the voice. Greyson.

“Grey?” Elijah called, turning the corner and seeing the chef clumsily attempting to turn the alarm off. Greyson was wearing just a tshirt and jeans despite it being near-freezing outside, and the way he was fumbling with the alarm system meant he was almost certainly wasted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Greyson turned to his boss and smiled, lopsided. He looked like shit; he was as pale as his shirt, his nose was bright red and running so much that he had taken to swiping a hand under it every few seconds, and Elijah could hear the wheeze in every breath he took. “Oh, thangk God,” he said, moving out of the way so Elijah could turn the alarm system off. “I thought if that back was opend, I could just sneak in. To grab mby jacket.” Greyson coughed away from Elijah, an angry, productive sound that made the GM flinch. “Sorry,” Greyson said. “It’s cold outside.”

“I’m well aware,” Elijah said, turning away from the now-silent alarm. “What are you doing out? You’re supposed to be at home. Getting better. Remember, I sent you home twelve hours ago? What have you been doing, out partying? You’re sick, Greyson.”

“I kndow, I kndow,” Greyson said, yanking the rubber band out of his hair and letting it fall wildly around his shoulders. “I just… I… hh… huh! HuhhhIGTSZHH-ue! HTSH! HRSHH-uh! Fuck – HNGSTHHZUE!” The sneezes wrenched themselves from him, rough and painful-sounding. Greyson stood, post-fit, and pushed his hair back with a hand. “Sorry,” he said, his voice wavering.

Elijah sighed; it was too late to fight. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s go sit for a bit. I can’t send you home like this.”

He led them both back to the bar and, despite his better judgment, poured them each a whiskey. Greyson coughed and took a swig of his before Elijah even sat down. “Thangks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Elijah drank his whiskey slowly, trying to decide what to say to the chef. After a moment of silence so tense it could be sliced through with a butcher knife, both Elijah and Greyson attempted to start a conversation at the same time.

“Grey, I -”

“Lij, it’s-”

They both stopped, smiled at the absurdity, and Elijah motioned to the chef as if to say the floor is yours.

“Ndo, you go ahead,” Greyson said, sipping his drink. “Besides, I cand barely talk.”

Elijah couldn’t disagree with him there, so he let out one forced little laugh and then sighed. “Grey, I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Grey,” Elijah said finally, turning towards his friend, “what’s been going on, really? You’re… something is wrong. You’re not… you.”

Greyson shrugged. “I shouldn’t be bringing every disease kndown to mban into the restaurant, but here we are,” he said, coughing into his fist. Elijah laughed in earnest this time, and the two of them lapsed into silence once again.

Greyson pursed his lips, downed the rest of his drink, and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I’mb ndot.” The chef sighed and turned his barstool towards Elijah. “It’s… it’s the whole Collin thing. It’s beend… a lot harder than I thought it would be. Getting over himb.” Greyson sniffled; Elijah was unsure if it was illness-related, or if the other man was crying. He was quickly given an answer when Greyson wrenched to the side – “HGTSHH-ue! Hh! HhhNGTSHZ-ue!” The chef wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “Sorry,” he said.

Elijah shook his head. “Dude,” he said, “you could’ve just told me you were taking it harder than you expected. You know I’m always here if you need to talk. I thought we were friends.”

“Lij, we are friends, but like… I don’t kndow. It’s weird talking to you about this shit because you don’t… I don’t kndow, fuck up. You take everything in stride, like it all rolls off your back. I’mb ndot like that. Plus, you literally ndever date - I’ve ndever kndown you to have a single girlfriend, let alonde break up with someone, and we’ve kndown each other for years.” Greyson pressed his hand into one of his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, I thingk I’mb getting andother fuckigg sindus infection,” he muttered. Elijah gave his friend a pointed look.

“The fact that you know off the top of you head exactly what that feels like definitely says something about these past few months,” he said, prompting a sharp laugh and the middle finger from Greyson. Elijah smiled. “You’re right,” he said, after a beat. “I don’t date. There was a girl, a long time ago – before I bought this place. I thought we were going to get married one day.”

Greyson’s eyebrows shot up, headache clearly forgotten. “Ndo way,” he said. “You’re shitting mbe. You? What was her name? Do I know her?”

Elijah laughed. “You don’t know her,” he said. “She was actually a chef, too, at this vegan brunch place in the Financial District. But she wanted kids, she wanted me to have a job where I could be home in the evenings…” Elijah shrugged, a fingernail digging into a groove in the bar top. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Dude,” Greyson said, placing a hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

Elijah shrugged again, and looked back up at Greyson. “It was a long time ago,” he said. “But I mean – I do get it. Heartbreak, that is. You can talk to me about anything, Greyson. And I’m not some let-it-roll-off-your-back, take-it-in-stride monolith, either.” He smiled, attempting to break the tension. “Obviously I get pissed all the time so just… talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The two of them sat in silence once again, neither really knowing the right thing to say next. Finally, Greyson’s body broke the tension: “HNGTSHH-ue! God, fuck,” the chef reached across the bar and attempted to blow his nose in a cocktail napkin – to no avail.

“Bless you,” Elijah said, and Greyson nodded.

“Thangks,” he said, slowly lowering his head to the bar top. “Fuck, I feel like such hot garbage. The going out every ndight thigg is definitely ndot for anyone over thirty.”

Elijah couldn’t help but cackle. “And you wonder why I have a two-drink-maximum hard line? I’d be dead on the floor if I drank like you and Matt. Welcome to old age, bud.”

“Yeah, you mbight be on to something there,” Greyson said, closing his eyes. “Definitely ndot gonna be hooking up with anyone under twenty-five anymbore, either. They’re all cesspools. HGTSHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Elijah said again. “Want me to drive you home?”

Greyson opened one red, watering eye. “In a mbinute,” he said. “I just ndeed to...rest mby eyes.”

Elijah pursed his lips to keep from laughing at the spectacle that was Greyson; mouth-breathing, whiskey-smelling, chest-crackling Greyson. Heartbreak didn’t look good on anyone, but on him it was especially rough. Within moments, the chef was snoring.

Elijah shook his head, stripped a table of its clean white cloth, and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Rest was rest, he figured. Elijah poured himself a rare third drink and sat next to his ailing friend.

“Sleep well, Chef,” he said, and took a long pull.

[hot-take-tournament]

HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT

PRE-PRELIMINARY #19

Submission 55

Tohru Adachi is a better character than Goro Akechi

[SUBMITTED JUSTIFICATION UNDER THE CUT]

Pre-preliminaries will be used to determine what qualifies as a hot take. Propaganda is encouraged!

Also, remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure! (exposure like when your exposed to critical levels of radiation)

They're both terrible people but P4 doesn't try to justify Adachi's actions even if you pick the accomplice ending and side with him, meanwhile P5 constantly goes 'but he was sad tho :( his daddy doesn't love him so he's allowed to kill ppl' after the reveal that Akechi's the traitor. Also I did the math and in the cutscene where the train gets derailed alone Akechi killed at least 100x more people than Adachi did in the entire game. There's nothing wrong with liking evil characters (IMO) but acting like they're sweet innocent babies is lame

Adachi and Akechi have similar roles in the story. They’re both the subject of the main mystery of their respective games, the killer and the traitor, and in order to hide their involvement, they have fake detective personas (lowercase p personas not Personas). The issue is that while Adachi’s fake personality is a lovable dork who goofs off work by hanging out in the lobby of a department store, “accidentally” leaks critical information about the case to a bunch of teenagers, and has a weird friendship with an old lady who thinks he’s her son, Akechi's is just generic “crime bad, criminals bad” detective man with zero substance to any of his interactions with the main cast outside of literally all of them fucking hating him (the correct and morally right response to Akechi talking to you). But that’s just their fake personalities, right? It’s totally fine for a completely false, constructed persona to be a little shallow, right? Well Akechi’s real personality is just as bad. I already mentioned how his entire motivation is “Waah my dad doesn’t love me so I’m gonna help him achieve his goals then kill him” which is completely fucking stupid by the way just kill the dude and be done with it if thats what you’re gonna do anyway man, but his personality boils down to ‘generic angsty villain whos gonna get a completely undeserved redemption arc’ (thankfully cognitive Akechi killed him before that could happen, the one good thing he did and it wasn’t even really him). Adachi’s real personality is completely unhinged, his big motivation speech can be summed up as “ACAB!” “But you’re a cop!?” YEAH AND I’M A TOTAL BASTARD WHAT PART OF THAT DON’T YOU GET!?” You love to hate him, and that’s what makes a good antagonist, not feeling sorry for him because his dad doesn’t love him. Guess what Akechi, a lot of people's dads don’t love them and none of them became domestic terrorists to try to regain his love and respect!

And you might think that I’m exaggerating with how the player is supposed to sympathise and eventually forgive Akechi, but after he explains his awful motivation, the first person to extend a hand of sympathy is Haru, the girl who’s father Akechi murdered in front of her like two months prior. The second person is Futaba, who spent her entire adolescence traumatised because she thought she was such a shitty daughter that it drove her mother to suicide BECAUSE AKECHI KILLED HER MOTHER IN FRONT OF HER (the dude’s consistent I’ll give him that.)

[pinkfey]

🍓🍇🍰🍻🌽 for any of your dragon age or twd ocs >:) because i'm in a da slash apocalypse mood

ODD OC ASKS ♡

ME TOOOO okay i'm doin these for nova baby 🧡

🍓 does your oc have any particular scents they like? or hate?

nova HATED the smell of weed which is kind of funny for her bc she's like a classic punk and like everyone she knew smoked and most of all her roommate but post-apocalypse she's sort of nostalgic for it and would kill for that sense of normalcy again she'd KILL to be annoyed at her roommate one last time

she also hates the smell of sweat and metal which like. sucks for u queen. this is a zombie apocalypse.... get well soon ❤️

🍇 what sort of friend are they? where are they in the group dynamic?

ANNOYINGGGGGG SO ANNOYING but also integral bc they're the first one to risk their life and the first one to throw herself at danger and the glue that binds everyone together with their stupid jokes and ideas like when she and barbie went on a supply run to a department store and returned with the lamest matching sunglasses for the whole gang <3 it's kinda like she's such a rat and everyone knows it but where would anyone be without her

🍰 what's something your oc counts as unforgivable?

messing w the squad 😩 nova doesn't value herself highly so she can forgive any mistreatment of herself but the gang is a whole other story. not at first too !! in fact they were one of the more quick-to-trust survivors of the bunch initially, but after this whole thing went down with a bunch of cops it 1) solidified everyone as inseparable and 2) jaded everyone and made them especially wary of strangers.

for nova her family never treated her like they should have and she blamed herself for it so here she gets this second chance at family and she would do anything to keep it and after seeing the fucked up shit humans are capable after one strike ur OUT forgiveness is off the table !!

🍻 what's your oc's favourite comfort ritual? how do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

pre-apocalypse they'd rollerskate at the skate park with their stupid headphones on trying to look really really cool or maybe go to like an arcade. getting out, though, that was the key.

post-apocalypse i wouldn't say they have any specific rituals, but when they're more anxious they throw it into something productive for the group to keep their mind off things. checking defenses, making pipe bombs, working on the cars, etc. they do fuck around a lot too they just don't stop moving !! knife tricks and flipping lighters and such--anything with their hands.

🌽 how does this oc feel about acts of affection? what's their favourite act of affection, physical or emotional?

they eat it up, especially when it comes from someone who isn't touchy, like andrew. neither of them are affectionate and there's such a tense unspoken thing between them where there's all this trust and loyalty and confidence but any sort of touch would send either of them into a coma bc it’s like an acknowledgment u know?? too much TOOOO much

she's fond of unexpected hugs. she never knows what to do with her hands but it makes her feel loved and needed bc growing up mommy didn't hug her enough 😢 jsdfjndshdjfjhd amalia once ran up to her and gave her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek after pulling a really stupid really brave stunt and it rewired her brain. like 😳 omfg ppl care about me?? no fucking way.......

also small acts of affection like when ariel ruffles her hair or she and daisy do their lame ass handshake 😩 friendship u know??

[not-bcring]

Most criminals would say the worst thing that could happen during a job was getting caught red handed by the police, but Fuyu would beg to differ. It was way worse when you were not only caught by the cops, but caught by your...cop...friend? Could...Fuyu even call him that? Did slipping a bit of intel here and there and keeping the guys boyfriend from being stupid even warrant a friendship? Whatever, it didn't matter, Shuichi had caught the yakuza hook, line and sinker. "...uh, hey?" Smooth. "Remind me to fire those idiots out front after you pinch me, didn't know it took a fucking genius to keep watch..." //whats going on? idk but fuyu isnt even gonna Try to get away lmao -  ✩   「 @the-ultimate-muses 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Shuichi hadn't expected this to be a low-stakes arrest. People typically don't rob such influential people unless they're confident in their skills. True, sometimes this confidence amounts to nothing more than misguided cockiness. But more often than not, those people leave far messier trails than the breadcrumbs that led Shuichi to the sprawling estate. With his expectations, the Detective probably shouldn't have entered the premises alone. Strong in mind but not muscle, it would be effortless for an assailant to take him down should they catch him off-guard. But even with that in mind, Shuichi had preferred his chances without the so-called ' aid ' of the co-workers milling about the precinct this time of night.

With the vendetta they have against him, he wouldn't be surprised if they were willing to throw away this entire case just to watch him get a bullet or a beating... So, despite his reservations, Shuichi now greets a familiar face alone. An unfortunately familiar one. High-stakes doesn't even begin to cover what Shuichi has skillfully stumbled into, the emotional repercussions constricting around him as mercilessly as the legal ones he can already feel looming overhead. He is going to get so much shit for this when the others arrive.

❝ Heh... Hey. ❞ Shuichi awkwardly replies with a weak wave of his hand, appearing as if he's greeting an acquaintance— although Shuichi would classify Fuyuhiko as a friend; albeit a one-sided one —rather than confronting a criminal. Nerves tying his tongue, he glances toward the doorway with a grimace. It's unclear whether he's regretting coming through it or wishing that someone else would, if only to offer a new subject to take Fuyu's attention. Awkward air settling heavily in his chest as if trying to suffocate him, Shuichi fidgets from foot to foot, itching to leave despite it being the LAST thing he can do. For more reasons than the guys still standing guard outside. He might have snuck past them once but he's not willing to take that risk again; not with how his luck seems to be going tonight.

❝ Wait- what? ❞ Gaze snapping from faux escape back to Fuyu, wide eyes shine with unmistakable surprise at how easily the other is surrendering. Even though Fuyu has been... helpful when it comes to intel, that's a far cry from practically holding your hands out to be cuffed. A voice in Shuichi's mind, cynical yet reliable from working cases, warns against the show of submission. The tightness in Shuichi's chest however, unreliable as its often proven to be, causes him to offer excuses for the men at risk of losing their illegal jobs ( taking any chance he has of delaying his decision ), ❝ Oh, uh— It's not entirely their fault. I did sneak past them so... ❞

Words faltering through an uncertain smile, he coughs into a fist, cheeks heating up as he looks to the side and lamely adds, ❝ Which uh, I suppose the point of keeping watch is to... prevent. ❞ Not sure where he's going with this thread other than talking for the sake of not forgetting HOW to, he cuts the topic and starts up the more pressing one. Sucking in a steadying breath, shaky as it may be when he exhales, and looking back at Fuyu with a strained smile, ❝ Look- Maybe... I didn't see you. Maybe, when I arrived... whoever was robbing this place was startled and fled. A-After dropping their loot, of course. ❞

Smile dare-say apologetic, Shuichi motions at the bag in Fuyu's grip with a wince and hastily explains, ❝ I can't just let you leave with that. It doesn't belong to you... ❞ Pulling down the brim of his hat and looking back to the door, it'd be so easy for Fuyu to do something while his guard is down but that doesn't stop Shuichi from lowering it anyway, ❝ But I don't want to arrest you. I- ... I owe you more than that and— and you're a good person. I don't... want to arrest a good person who has helped me so much. ❞ Cheeks flush with red and heart hammering more than he'd like ( Fuyu might be a good person, but Shuichi definitely is NOT ), he brings the brim of his hat down lower, ebony hair draped across his face like a desperate curtain.

❝ My co-workers are going to be here soon— I called them shortly after sneaking in, b-before I knew you were here and... Well, they won't be as lenient as I am. ❞ They won't be as willing to break the law in THIS instance. Never mind all the other times they've been willing to sweep things under the rug and Shuichi had to take care of the mess instead. Still, his stomach turns sour every time Shuichi does the same. But this isn't for HIS benefit... It's for Fuyu and Seto; two people who are more than worth a bit of nausea and ridicule and lying. ❝ But if you leave now, I'm sure you can get away before they arrive. ❞

They never are as quick as they could be when coming to Shuichi's aid. 「 ☆ 」

[slayernina]

TEN REASONS TO WATCH IZOMBIE:

1. Veronica Mars + Buffy + Bones + Dollhouse + Ozark = Izombie

If you like one of these shows, you'll like this one.

2. Liv is the cutest zombie ever

And Ravi is the cutest forensic doctor ever. And Peyton is the cutest assistant district attorney ever. And Clive is the cutest cop ever. And... you get my point right? The chemistry is off the charts with everybody.

I have never shipped so much with so many combinations of people since my days at BBC Merlin fandom

3. All good shows need a good villain

Hellooooo, Blaine. David Anders has made a career of playing unrepentant, charismatic smooth socyopaths and it shows. All Izombie's bad guys have something, but definitively the rich bleached brain-dealer guy with daddy issues and 0 fucks given goes straight to my list of favourite problematic assholes.

This is what happens when you leave your drama choir kid running wild

4. Minor characters are a thing

If the main characters aren't enough, you have a full cast of developed minor characters with their own plots and relationships to enjoy.

You'll also see some recognizable faces here and there.

5. The cast show off

It's not just that the actors are perfectly chosen, it's also they give 100% good performances in every scene they are in.

Bonus points if it's bonkers or it's singing (still pissed off we didn't got a musical episode)

6. Friendships

For once, real male/female friends.

Finally

7. Braaaaaaaains

...Used as allegories about mental health and addiction.

Liv (and the rest of the characters) affected by whatever they ate before is not just for the kicks

8. Stakes higher each season

From funny buddy cop show to full zombie nation in a no subtle critic about racism and classism with a mix of militarism and capitalism.

And more "isms"

9. The writing and the callbacks

The Murder of the Week used brillantly to develop plots and characters. That 40 seconds guy of the first episode? Main antagonist for 5 seasons. That episodic guy? Now is a cast regular because it was his twin. That Chejov Gun? It will appear again in 2 seasons. That character that left the town? Coming back again to kick some asses. And so on. Izombie got the best of Joss Whedon's and JK Rowling's Writing School Of Plot Points and elevate it into an art. Wrapped in lame puns and dad jokes everywhere.

I dare you to say the name Major Lilywhite with a straight face

10. Sit, enjoy and have fun

Among the crazy premise, you'll get Rose McIver in full cosplay, among other stuff.

And food

My other metas here

La maldición de las cuatro brujas here

Una novela romántica de esas con un macizorro sin camiseta en la portada here

Un romanzo rosa di quelli con un fusto a petto nudo in copertina here

Buy me a ko-fi!

[gabriel-shutterson]

Here it is. I’m so sorry.

Griffin: Grew up with no pigment

White as snow is

Eyes red as roses

All: Albino

Griffin: Hated how I looked, but who woulda known that

Once I was grown that

All: It all would go

Oooh hooo

Griffin: Can’t see my face

All: Students

Griffin: Called me a disgrace

All: Ooh hoo

Griffin: How does it taste?

Graduating with all B’s while you can’t see me?

I started with cloths, ha, don’t get lost

This might be too much for your tiny little brain

Worked like a charm, but it did daddy harm

And he killed himself— oh, what a shame

All: Oooh hoo

Griffin: I just stole his cash

All: Ooh hoo

Griffin: Who needs a dad?

All: Ooh hoo

Griffin: Then I tested on a cat

What a thrilling find, too bad he wasn’t mine

All: Uh oh

Griffin: Here we go

All: You stole someone’s kitty?

Griffin: Couldn’t just buy one; arson made me busy

All: What???

Griffin: Shut your face!

All: You burnt down the place?

Griffin: Well, what was I meant to do???

Sorry, not sorry ‘bout what I said

Jackassery is just too fun

Don’t worry, don’t worry, you can’t see my head

Or my laughing ass, when all’s done

Get out of my hair before I share my reign of terror

Can’t see if I’m sorry ‘bout what I said

Or see my head

Tested on me, and now you can’t see

Any part of me from head to toe

Broke into a store room

But a house had more room

Kicked a man out his door soon

The house was mine

All: Oooh hoo

Griffin: Practically a freebie

All: Ooh hoo

Griffin: Crime’s so easy

All: Ooh hoo

Griffin: My next meal is cheesy

While that houseowner hag is tied up in a bag

All: Uh oh

Griffin: Here we go

All: You tied someone up?

Griffin: It wasn’t the intention, but I guess we’re stuck!

All: Tying people up is pretty kinky, dude

Griffin: Mate, what was I meant to do?

Sorry, not sorry ‘bout what I said

Jackassery is just too fun

Don’t worry, don’t worry, you can’t see my head

Or my laughing ass, when all’s done

Get out of my hair before I share my reign of terror

Can’t see if I’m sorry ‘bout what I said

Or see my head

Found me an assistant, turns out he’s a piss man

He’s not worth the risk, man, Marvel’s his name

He’s constantly confused and he has no use and took my books and zoomed, man

Hella lame

(He was hungry), my friendship didn’t fill him

(All I) did was try to kill him

(One survived) and it was still him

I’d fuck up this guy if I didn’t have to die

Here’s how it all went down

All alone, I go find an old colleague of mine

Arthur Kemp, he’s called, from my old Uni

He lets me stay, and things start to seem okay, and I start to speak

I tell him my story, but he’s not all there

I leave out no details, but he doesn’t seem to care

“Be my assistant?” He says yes and nods

And then it turns out that he called the cops

All: Uh oh

Griffin: Here we go

All: He put you in your place?

Griffin: And now I’m on a wild goose chase

All: Oh shit

Griffin: And then they all shot me!

(They got me!)

But what was I meant to do?

Like what was I meant to do?

No really, what was I meant to do?

Like, they literally shot and killed me! I didn’t do much more than murder!

Sorry, not sorry ‘bout what I said

Jackassery is just too fun

Don’t worry, don’t worry, you can’t see my head

Or my laughing ass, when all’s done

Get out of my hair before I share my reign of terror

Can’t see if I’m sorry ‘bout what I said

(Can’t see if he’s sorry ‘bout what he said)

Can’t see if I’m sorry ‘bout what I said

Or see my head

[easyxringo]

I never allowed myself to believe that cheating wouldn't, at some point, be thrown at them it's too easy of a soap trope to avoid and the more popular the couple the more likely a soap is to do it. It's gross but it's a soap go to and always has been. Making the character who identifies as bi be the one who cheats is what I find most disturbing. The truth is COVID messed up most soap couples so throwing a storyline at them that forces a reset is, in theory, not a terrible idea. Making it Ringo is the bigger cop out. Easy has not been a good husband, or written anything like himself (seriously the writing for him has been WTF), for over a year now. He has been entirely wrapped up in his own wants and desires, and completely tunes out Ringo a lot of the time, and there has been more than one occasion where Ringo had genuine reason to be hurt/angry with him. But he was never allowed to feel that way for more than a few scenes so nothing ever got resolved. Having Easy be the one who cheats would be the much more interesting angle to take, and with the way he's been written this past year it wouldn't have been as out of character as it once would have been. Making it the bi character, and the character the audience always sees cast in the role of "bad guy" to his husbands "good guy" is the grossest most played out part of the whole thing. There was a way to do this and maybe make it not terrible from a storyline perspective, from a fan perspective it was always going to hurt and feel cruel. Also having no idea how long the break up is planned to last makes it worse.

Okay, so we… do not agree.

I don’t think that Easy is a bad husband, not at all. Especially during the prison-arc he was 100% supportive and we even got a little bit of evil-Easy. He trusted Ringo, he tried to save his family, that doesn’t make him a bad husband.

Unfortunately Ringo seems to be unable to clearly communicate about what he wants. So he lies. While I do understand that he wanted revenge. yet he lied – again. That Easy wanted to protect Maya – an innocent child just like Julius – is not a bad thing. The supposedly good person who acted very shabby in this whole thing was Ute. Again, I understand that Ringo wanted revenge, I would have wanted that too, but again – he lied.

When Julius no longer wanted to be adopted because of Ringo's name change and felt betrayed, Easy even tried to relieve his husband's feelings of guilt, since he had started poisoning Benedikt.

Not that I think Easy doesn’t make mistakes, he does.

What I do agree is that the writing for Easy is very lame lately. He doesn’t have anything to do, yet he was not involved in finding his best friend when he was kidnapped. Lame, just super super lame. Also the fact that they kinda start to build up “friendship“ with Cecilia is disgusting.

If the cheating means that Easy can finally thrive and no longer have to play suggestion-box for everyone, I'm all for it. And I expect them to give him the best Prince Charming the soap world has ever seen. I don't want to see him cry all the time! He deserves more and better.

I would have loved to see him falling for someone new, absolutely. Not forever, no, but just to show Richard that there is more in live tha Huber Bau. I’m honest, I have more trust in Easy and his decissions than in Richard.

And be sure that I will NOT watch a single scene between Richard and Cecilia. He is out of my view the second he starts fucking her.

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw​ ily

[wavebiders]

Operation: "Ignore the Shitty Live Action Winx Show and Just Rewatch the Cartoon for the First Time in Almost a Decade" part 39:

*Toph Voice* LET'S BREAK SOME RULES!

Tiny Aisha flashback!

With tiny Stella last episode and tiny Bloom in s1, I wonder if this means we'll get to see them all as kids eventually

Ok this is fucked

Piff & Aisha are really the only ones where I buy into the fairy/pixie magical bond. They really are adorable and heartwarming. I think part of it is just that Piff can't talk. The dynamic reminds me a little bit of Bloom & Kiko

Speaking of Bloom & Kiko, why the fuck is he not sleeping on her bed next to her anymore? I do not accept this

Yeah skip class!! Don't be a squares you guys deserve the break!

GARDENIA! Oh man, I'm so glad they're spending at least one episode there this season. With them starting the first ep right at Alfea and not doing a vacation episode either, I've really been missing it

Gay

I've been wanting conent with the girls pretending to be normal earthlings😭🙌 This episode is feeding me so well already

Tecna and Flora are officially on team lame tho

*agressively ignores all canon Timmy/Tecna scenes and replaces it with my own version of them*

The fuck kinda cop makes it his business if 3 teenagers are skipping class?

These flashbacks with Aisha and her childhood friend are not gonna end well

Oh good. I was starting to worry the subplot with Bloom and her mom was gonna be entirely off-screen. Not that I don't love the other girls, but if an episode is gonna be set on earth I kinda want content with Bloom and her parents you know?

"In my dreams I hear lullabies from my biological mother. But yours I always carry with me. You and dad will always be my family"🥺🥺

The way the most loving family on this show is the adoptive one👌

Also thank fuck they're finally using the word "biological" instead of "real". I know that was always what they meant, but it was still a minor annoyance for me

Musa and Aisha are coming for Bloom and Stella's "dumbest duo" position

"I can't read, dumbass!" Hsddsgftg the fucking delivery of that line I'm crying😂

The fact that the most accurate translation I can think of for even a child-appropriate Dutch insult says a lot about the language I think

Helia is fucking weird... I like him

Me loving so many different ships vs me being too attached too certain ships for certain characters FIGHT

Oh NOW they pay attention to their students. Where was this during all their near death experiences last year?

I forgot about the earth exclusive aura-seeing powers!

This is the first time I've wished this show had 40 minute episodes. There's just too many cool things going on with this visiting earth plotline and not enough time

How did these guys think fucking with magic users was gonna go?

I am once again emotional over Aisha. I cannot believe she was my least favorite as a kid. She's getting close to the top 3 now. Which is saying a lot because I would take a bullet for each and every one of those girls

"Talk about going from the frying pan into the fire" she says with a smile on her face. Gotta love that they've gotten so used to getting in trouble that they don't really care anymore

Aisha and Flora🥺

The friendships on this show really get to me. And I'm trying not to jinx it, especially since the preview for the next episode looks like something I'd hate, but it really feels like they're getting back in the groove with focusing on them more

[myhockeyworld87]

My Protector - Jamie Benn

Word Count: 1,143

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Language, mention of drugging someone

It’d seemed like you’d been friends with Jamie forever. Well at least since he’d moved to Dallas. When he was in town, you two were always together. He was always there for you whenever you needed him, just as you were there for him. But having Jamie around also had its downside.

 “Really Jame? I actually liked that one.”

 “Please he was trash and you know it.” He insisted after he’d scared off the poor guy you’d only gone on two dates with. “If he was really worth it, there’d be no way in hell he’d let me scare him away.”

 He had a point, but you certainly weren't going to be the one to tell him that. “How am I supposed to find that out though if you come off all protective of me, all the time.”

 “Fine, I’ll back off if that’s what you want.”

 “It is.” After your little tiff with Jamie, he went radio silent for a week. He could be brooding menace at times, but he always came around, and you knew that he was only doing it because he cared about you. 

 This is why a week later you were on the phone, making it up to him by cooking dinner, to be followed up with some movie, you’d let him pick out. Your friendship picked back up easily after that, you going to his home games and cheering him on. It was how you’d found yourself out at the bar with a few of Jamie’s teammates and significant others.

 The place was crowded, and you headed out on the dance floor with a few of the girls. You were having a great time when Alandra leaned over to tell you something. “Don’t look now, but I think that guy over there is checking you out.” She nodded in a direction behind you and carefully you waited, before turning to see who she meant. He was hot, there was no doubt about that, but in the frat-boy kind of way. Clean cut, hair a bit too long but perfect at the same time. He wasn’t not your type, but you couldn’t say he was either. 

 “He's cute.” You told her and went back to dancing. It was several minutes later that you found yourself at the bar, ordering another drink when he came up to you.

 “Hey, can I buy you a drink?” He offered.

 Who were you to pass up free alcohol? “Thanks, that’d be nice.”

 “I’m Kyle.” You were actually surprised it wasn’t Brad, but Kyle was just another typical frat boy name as well. 

 “(Y/N),” you told him as you extended your hand in greeting.

 “I haven’t seen you here before. Do you come here often?”

 You chuckled and he looked a bit offended. “Sorry, but are you really going to use that line?”

 He gave a small laugh then. “Yeah, I guess it was kind of lame. You’re just…well really gorgeous and it was the first thing to come to my mind.” You blushed a little then, sweeping a loose strand of hair back to cover a bit. The bartender brought your drinks then, but neither of you touched them as Kyle paid for them. “So my friends are over there,” he pointed but it was so crowded you really couldn’t see a group of people. “No, no. Over there.” He turned you around then so that your back was to him. His left hand pointing out over the crowd as you looked around. It took you a minute or so to find who he meant. Only really catching a glimpse before being turned back around by Kyle. “Care to go over and meet them? I’d love to chat with you more.”

 You really couldn’t see the harm in spending a few minutes with them. Even if he was your typical frat boy, he still seemed like someone it wouldn’t hurt to get to know. Who knows where things could lead. “Sure, why not.” 

 He handed you your drink, then clink his glass with yours. “To getting to know one another.” You took a sip and went to put the drink back down, but Kyle took your hand to try to get you to drink more.

 “Don’t you dare touch her!” The words were all but growled out of Jamie’s throat, as he grabbed Kyle and pressed him up against the bar.

 “Jamie, what are you doing?”

 “This little fucker just put something in your drink.” You gasped and looked down at the liquid, barely able to see a few particles floating around. Thankfully you'd only taken a small sip. The bartender came over then. 

 “Is there a problem here?”

 “Yeah, you need to call the cops, as this guy was attempting to drug my friend.” The realization of what was happening hit you then. The bartender called over a bouncer and Kyle was taken to the backroom to wait for the police to show up. “Are you ok?” Jamie asked, running his hands down your arms. You collapsed into him feeling so relieved that he just saved you from what you were sure would be the most horrible night of your life. 

 It was a couple minutes before you were able to pull out of the embrace to thank him. “Oh my god, Jame, I don’t know how to thank you. I’m so glad you saw what he did and stopped him.”

 “I’d never let anyone hurt you, (Y/N).” His hands cupped your cheeks then and there was such sincerity in his words but there was also something more there in his eyes. It stole your breath away. 

 “Jamie…I…” there was so much you wanted to say but you simply didn’t know how; luckily Jamie said it for you.

 “Damnit (Y/N), I love you. I have for some time. It’s why I’m always scaring all those other guys away from you. But tonight…” he blew out a breath. “Fuck, if something were to happen to you I’d die. I just…”

 “I know Jamie…and I love you too.”

 He looked taken back at your words. “You do?”

 “Yes. I have for a while. I just…well I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but tonight if you hadn’t had been here…” You trailed off but then quickly followed up. “But you’re always there, aren’t you? Always protecting me, keeping me safe. I love you for that Jamie. I love you for scaring everyone else away because the only person I want to be with is you.” He finally kissed you then, right there in the middle of the bar with god only knew how many people watching, and it was the most magical moment in your entire life.

 When you finally parted, he bent his forehead down to yours before whispering. “I love you too (Y/N) and I’m always going to keep you safe.”

[earthbound-swap]

It was the middle of the night when a meteor struck, or at least it felt like it to Ness. He didn’t stop to check the time, either, or bother to get out of his pj’s before his mom yelled at him for it. It felt like the whole town was there just to see too, even if it might’ve been only five people. But, it wasn’t every day a huge rock flew out of the sky. Especially in an area like this.

Ness still got his way to the top of the hill where it had fallen, or at least as far as he was allowed. Got blocked off, the police seemed to appear quickly at the scene.

The meteor was huge though, taking up a lot of the hill. Ness saw it quite well from where he was standing. He tried to take it in before going back home (he was still dead tired, it was the middle of the night after all); before an all too familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“‘Sup, Ness!” Pokey had put his arm around Ness’s shoulder, pretty aggressively, “What’re you up to this late at night?”

“Well, the meteor-”

“No duh, the meteor!” Pokey cut him off before laughing. “You’re gettin’ in the cops… well, I mean officer’s way!” he gave an obvious fake-sweet smile to one of the policemen guarding the area. “Just go home, I can tell you all-ll-ll about this in the morning!”

“Can’t I just see?” Ness asked, just a little desperate.

“Mmmmm, let me think. Nah!” Pokey let go of him and laughed again. “I got ya! Don’t worry your stupid little head!”

Ness ended up going home after that; the policemen’s annoyed faces at Pokey’s antics and Pokey himself was enough to drive him back home and back to bed. His mom already realized he was gone and was waiting for him at the door, to make sure he was alright.

He just wanted a bit more sleep...

Until a loud knocking at the door woke him up again. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, was he? So he just got changed and went back downstairs.

“Pokey, are you flirting with my mom?”

The kid snickered, standing in the door frame as he was talking to Ness’s mom, who to be fair, looked pretty uncomfortable. “Hey, Ness, s-so…” he hesitated. “I lost Picky at the meteor site after the police left. My mom's gonna be pissed if I don’t find him soon, ya mind helpin’ a guy like me out here?”

“It’s like… five in the morning,” Ness checked a clock on the wall.

“Fuck you! I just wanna make sure he’s alright, alright? Don’t be a jerk about it.”

“I’m not… alright, sure, let’s go. King! C’mere!” Ness called over his dog, he needed to go for a walk anyway, and King happily came along for their trip back up to the meteor that fell not even hours ago.

Picky had been sleeping soundly by a tree, looking almost at peace before Pokey had lightly tapped him with his foot. “Picky. Picky! Picky, wake uppppp!”

Ness listened to the two’s banter, something about Picky being infinitely more mature than Pokey (he had to admit, it’s true). Though he was a bit more interested in the meteor. It was incredibly hot, as expected, but there was something else.

“Do any of you hear a buzzing?” Pokey commented on it first.

“That’s not just you, no.” Ness agreed.

The three had gathered around the meteor, examining it and its newfound buzzing. Even more surprising was when it suddenly erupted a bright beam of light…

And a beetle a little bigger than the size of a thumb.

“A bee I am… not.” it started speaking, as the three looked at each other with looks of utter confusion as the beetle continued to infodump like an old sci-fi movie. “I am from the future, ten years to be exact, and in the future, all is devastation. Giygas, the universal destroyer, sent the world into chaos and eternal darkness. However! In my time, there is a legend of when the boy will find the point of light, the passage of time will shatter the nightmare rock, and he will reveal the path of light.

“I believe that you are the boy, Pokey Minch.”

...Pokey?

“Me?!” the kid in question blurted out. “I mean— of course, it’s me! I’m-”

“I’m not finished!” the beetle yelled before the three could start talking amongst themselves.“Giygas’ plan must’ve started on Earth, if we act now, you might have time to stop his evil ways. There are three important things to keep in mind: wisdom, courage, and friendship. The legends tell of three boys and a girl. Go now, I will explain it all when the time comes! You have much work to do, Pokey.”

A wave of silence came over the three of them, eventually broken by Pokey himself. “Uhh… destruction? Legend? Friendship? I’m not interested, this sounds pretty fucking lame. I’m gonna be dragged around for no reason.”

“It sounded pretty honest, I dunno, dude…” Ness was still trying to take it all in, he felt like he learned something he shouldn’t have. “If you want, I can try and help you out! Hey, I might be one of the four, even!”

He had the gut feeling that he definitely wasn’t. It’s not his job to intervene, but he couldn’t help but feel it was at least nice of him to try.

“Yeah, sure, I guess. I’m just bringin’ Picky back home,”

“I’m not five!” Picky argued with his older brother with a joking pout.

“Sure sure, you’re still getting home though. It’s almost morning. Meet you in Onett, Ness?” Pokey offered.

“Sure, dude, meet you in Onett.”

It was already sunrise when Ness got into the city, and not too long later before Pokey had joined him. He almost looked pissed off to Ness, had being in some sort of ‘prophecy’ set him off that badly?

“Ay Ness, ya think a yo-yo could be helpful?” was the first thing Pokey said that wasn’t a grumble under his breath.

“Yeah, it’s better than nothing!” Which Ness just realized was exactly what he had, nothing. Hell, he didn’t even think about needing to fight anyone, even if that should’ve been obvious.

Big quest, after all, those always have huge battles. He picked up a rock on the side of the road, that’ll do.

“Has this place always been so overrun with Sharks? I don’t remember there being this many…” he had finally taken notice of them all, but Pokey already still seemed a little preoccupied.

“Hey, shit-brain!” he had been cursing one of the Sharks out aggressively already while chasing him; an interesting style of fighting, Ness’d give him that.

Though, he had to chase after the two to get into this fight or be mildly helpful to Porky at all. “Gotcha!” Ness threw the rock he found at the Shark, which hit him in the face and at least made him flinch a bit

“Ness, you really didn’t need to-” Pokey started complaining before--

Smash! The Shark swung a hula-hoop directly into Ness, knocking him onto the ground. He shook off his head a bit and had to sit for a moment before getting back up into the fight again, though the Shark had already run off. He pinched his nose before Pokey had come up to him again.

“Are you crying?” Pokey asked him dryly.

“N-no!” Ness defended, “I just got a bloody nose, really, I’ll be fine,” It was quite a hard toss into his head, and when Ness let go and looked at his hand, there seemed to be quite a bit of blood.

“You can’t put up a fight at all! Dumb bitch, its been one battle! Are you even gonna be helpful?”

“It was one try, give me another chance!” He knew what they were both thinking though.

There’s no way I would prove myself with another chance.

“Just go, Ness. This isn’t your journey. Fuck off, and go home.”

[puppysynonym]

im just gonna vent here for a second cuz i feel upset.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR:

-mentions of threatened sexual assault

- brief mention of an E.D.

-mention of yaoi/BL (i want to make it clear that i dont support it at all. its gross and fetishizes mlm relationships, but it plays a part in the context of an anecdote)

if i see one more post along the lines of "mY 5'10 aSs wHeN a 5'7-8 giRl cOmPlaiNs aBoUt bEinG tALL" im gonna scream.

im now 5'8", but ive ALWAYS been taller than most girls and a large amount of boys my age. ive been bullied about my height since i was in elementary school, and im so tired of seeing people post shit invalidating my experiences.

ive had people at multiple schools ive attended start rumors that im amab as an insult (which honestly is a weak ass way to insult me since trans women/femmes are absolutely fucking gorgeous and wonderful💞❤). but still, that shit eats away at you over time. im currently very confused about my gender identity, and i partially attribute that to consistently being told that i wasnt perceived as feminine enough by my peers because of my height.

its not just the assholery of people telling me that im masculine because of my height, its also people literally threatening to sexually assault me so they could figure out "whats in my pants" by "copping a feel". like fuck you. im really lucky that none of the people who said that shit actually touched me but it really hurt anyway because i thought those were people i could trust.

ive had people who i barely talk to walk up to me and ask if its hard for me to find a guy to date because im tall.

ive had friends point me out to boys who are 6'0+ and say "what about them? would you date someone their height?" only for the boy to come up with some lame excuses which ultimately circle back around to "no".

ive been told that i was dressed "inappropriately" at school for wearing fucking children's exercise shorts that on anyone else, wouldve been a normal length, but on me LOOKED short because my legs are so long. like they passed the stupid finger/arm length test and everything, but i was still picked on in front of my entire class for "not following the rules". maybe i wouldnt have been quite as hurt by it if girls shorter than me werent constantly getting away with wearing short-shorts that CLEARLY broke dress-code (dress-code is dumb and in all honesty, good for those girls for getting away with it, but it still hurt that i was kinda forced to wear knee length basketball shorts or pants in the summer just so i wouldn't get in trouble at school).

ive been given the male parts in dances rather than being part of "the hip lift" that my other girl classmates got to be apart of. and its not even because they didnt have enough boys to do the lift OR because i was too heavy (i was recovering from an ED at the time and was still unhealthily underweight). it was literally just because of my height.

i used to have an ex-friend that was shorter than me who i would cosplay with. im really happy that im out of that friendship for several reasons, but the only important one for the context of this story is that she likes yaoi. so whenever she wanted us to cosplay as a ship of hers, she'd always, without doubt, make me the "seme". listen, i get wanting our cosplays to be accurate to the characters height difference wise but we werent even that far apart in height?? like, she was 5'6 and i was like borderline 5'8 at the time (ive grown since then). and when we DID cosplay characters that were similar/the same height, she would insist that i wear flats instead of mary-janes because the later would make me look too tall. all of this shit probably wouldnt bother me as much now if she hadn't been such a shit friend, but she would also talk about how she always thought that xyz about her made her seem "sleazy" which was her code-word for masculine. the issue was, one of these things was her height. and i was OBVIOUSLY taller than her and she OBVIOUSLY acknowledged it so :) yeah.

there are DOZENS more examples i could give about how ive been treated like shit because of my height, but im tired so ill save those for another day.

in conclusion, i get to refer to myself as "tall". ive suffered enough because of it, i think i earned the title, thanks.

i want to make it clear that i understand that being a 6'0+ woman/feminine aligned person probably has more shitty repercussions than being 5'8 and im sorry for that. like, i have a hard enough time shopping for clothes so i can only imagine the shit y'all must go through :(

BUT IF I SEE ANOTHER 5'10 PERSON SAY THAT 5'7/5'8 ISNT TALL I SWEAR BRUH. LIKE YOURE 2 INCHES TALLER THAN ME. IF IM NOT CONSIDERED TALL, YOU ARENT EITHER :D

[lemoneyesour]

This is going to be long af, this isn’t the whole tea I didn’t want this rant to be too long.

I think the hardest part about being a Libra is learning that I’m not always going to be able to explain my side of situations to people. There are always two sides to a story and sometimes the wrong side is louder. I have to learn to be content with the fact people will perceive me differently because of the words of another.

That sometimes people will dislike me without knowing me. Sometimes it’s better just to be quiet. And since you decided to make our personal affair public in order to gain the sympathy from other and reassurance that you a “good person”. I’ll voice my side of things too, but I choose to do it on a platform where no one know who tf I am, and most likely only 1 person will read this.

Back in December I found out some troubling news and I was lost. My friend lent me $100 to help me out with it (I’m pretty sure she offered the money but I don’t 100% remember) I accepted because she was genuine about it and I figured why not. After everything got taken care of, I became a little distant. I was unemployed, stressed about money and just started a new relationship. I didn’t speak to her as much as I had before. When she reacted out to talk I would reply until I felt the conversation naturally died down. So a lot of times that meant I left her on read after a little bit of talking.

One day she reached out to me and showed her concern. She missed me and wanting to hangout. I told her my situation and that I needed time to heal. When I go through a stressful patch, I like to be alone a lot of the time to self reflect. She told me she unstood and then that would be enough until she would message me saying the exact some things she did last time. I was patient and calm with her.

I was very frustrated because I had even more money problems, I was unable to pay my car insurance which led to my license being suspended. I was unaware that it was suspended so I naturally get Pulled over by a cop because I didn’t have my lights on when it was cloudy. He informed me my insurance wasn’t valid and my license was suspended. So I got a ticket of $160, had to pay off my backed insurance and buy new insurance. Then I had to pay $150 to get my license reinstated. Which I had to paid for two paychecks to do, so I had to get rides from coworkers to work for three weeks, I was late to work serveral times. Then my phone broke, I didn’t have one for a week. So a lot of times I was unable to call my job ahead of time to tell them I was going to be late. While also dealing with bills, stress and the same situation happening AGAIN that caused me to borrow money in the first place.

One day she messages me about how I “obviously do not want to be friends with her and I could have just said something about it instead of ignoring her and that she needs to know when I will pay her back.” She sent messages like this a couple more times, honestly her passive aggressive comments and inability to see the situation wasn’t about her, but rather me and my mental state, made me not want to hangout with her... I didn’t like how she was manipulating things. I decided to open up to her about everything that happened to be in the last month. Maybe if I tell her specifics she will be more understanding. I am kinda private about these things.

So I could try to give her $20 a paycheck Until it’s paid off. I told her how I was mentally drained and couldn’t really carry on a conversation with anyone let alone make the time to hangout. I tried my hardest to express to her that i wasn’t avoiding her, that I simply needed space. My best friend of 8 years randomly stopped talking to me and never explained why, so I understand how it feels to be left In the dark or feel abandoned by someone you love. She told me she understood and hoped I was well.

After about a month, all my bills where paid off, I got my car situation fixed, I was feeling better mentally, I was ready to open up again and hangout. Then I got a message from her saying (this is the exact message)

“OK so I’ve given you six months, and you’ve not really tried to be friends with me or talked to me, so I’m just guessing you do not want to be friends. I understand having to work on yourself but fuck Hannah. I’d rather you just be honest with me. At this point I just need the money for my medicine for my face, plus my car payment. So please get back with me as soon as possible.”

At this time it had only been 4 months, not that it really matters. I had been nothing but honest with her over the last couple of months. I wanted her to feel validated and reassured about my feelings. I explained my side again and even showed her where I had explained it all to her before (she stated I could have just told her things where tough, and she would have understood. I LITERALLY DID 3 TIMES) she replied with “I don’t give a fuck about that lame ass conversation, I want my money”

That’s when I realized it wasn’t about our friendship to begin with, all she cared about was the money. If you aren’t talking about something that is upsetting you, you don’t just randomly blow up on someone one day. (In this situation being if she really missed me, then why did you change tone so quickly and start using the money against me??)

I told her I had no idea me not posting her back when I said I would (because things went to shit so quickly after I told her that) would anger her this much and cause problems in our friendship. I didn’t know money was that important to her. (I know it’s money but to me lending someone money isn’t a big deal. I don’t lend someone money with the expectation of them paying me back because we are friends)

She never communicated that to me.

At this point I was going to pay her back, but when she started coming at me I got mad. When I get mad I get petty. So I just didn’t pat her back, and I know that was peak lt childish.

All she does it talk about how she gets fucked over all the time, or how she is such a great person or friend. Even in our arguments she kept stating that. IF UR A GOOD PERSON U DONT NEED PEOPLE REASURRING YOU ON SOCIAL MEDIA ALL THE TIMEE. I can’t stand immature adults who can’t understand their friends are their own people and they have lives. I don’t always reply to my friends and my friends don’t always reply to me, in my eyes we are friends until one day we tell each other we aren’t. I don’t care if we haven’t talked In year. I guess that’s what I get for befriending a insecure, emotionally underdeveloped paranoid doo doo head.

So the reason I’m posting this is because she reached out to me AGAIN. Demanding I pay her back and then proceeded to make a status about me on Facebook so everyone knew what had happened. I was able to actually talk to her again, express what had actually happened. But come more from a sympathetic approach. Maybe if I do that she will actually be willing to listen to what I had to say. It worked and we sort of patched things up. But she left the status up, she wanted people to know she was hurt and there was a big meanie out there who had her $100. (FYI I haven’t had a job in two minutes this because of COVID and $100 isn’t shit. Sorry it’s not, she’s made that money back so many times now. She’s just trying to get me with whatever leverage she has) 

One thing I can’t stand is having people force feed a biased narrative of my character. They don’t know the other side, and they probably never will. They will only see me as a lair, user, theift. It hurts

I know I didn’t handle the best way possible, but she isn’t as blameless as she is leading people to believe

If anyone actually read all of this and you want to know the rest I’ll definitely tell it 😂



[doctorguilty]

ok you’ve all been waiting for it my thoughts on the sonic movie!!!

under cut cause long

so overall! I really liked the movie! I think it sorta landed pretty in the ballpark of what I sorta expected quality-of-plot wise and how much I’d be entertained by it. which is satisfying!!! I’m going to like, stream of thought this, starting with some criticisms which are gonna be kinda hefty cause im critiquing something I care about 

so right away I really disliked the “record scratch so this is me I bet you’re wondering how I got in this situation” opening like I’m not sure if it was intentionally a self aware joke on that being cliche and dumb but it does like, really frustrate me cause my philosophy for most stories is Start your story where it begins!! which made the backstory infodump more frustrating on top of that, like, I think that’s an easy mistake to make to want to spill your Backstory right away but it’s not necessary! the audience doesn’t NEED to know immediately what sonic was like in his homeworld and his tragic separation from it. we already have the audiences suspension of disbelief in play because they know they’re watching.. a movie about sonic the hedgehog in the real world. I think the backstory stuff would have been much more impactful as a flashback later on, especially when sonic’s whole arc is how lonely and isolated he is. it would be a better punch in the heart to later on be like so by the way as a child his guardian probably died and sent him to earth for his own safety. so that was like AUGH you blew it 

next up that i think was unnecessary like, completely, was establishing that sonic already knew the main cop guy and his wife (omg I already forgot their names..because they were not memorable but we’ll get to that fjdsg) and like, secretly immersed himself into their life that’s ?? odd to me? I think it would have been fine to just have sonic be like attached to the whole small town and he thinks the cop is cool and calls him donut lord, and that’s the extent of it like cause the problem is later down the plot when sonic finds out cop guy is leaving green hills and flips out about it.. I’m like, not sure if I believe sonic, immersing himself in their life, had NOT known that was a thing cop guy wanted to do like he NEVER heard about that??? but that’s like whatever 

I don’t really like the cop guy as the protag human like. oof he was very bland and I’m trying to figure out how to put this into words............ I feel like a character like him isn’t someone the audience can really connect to. this guy has a virtually perfect life with a house and a dog and a job and a wife, his Conflict is that he wants to move to california and see more action and save people, but the WEIRDEST thing about it is that the prospect of leaving his little town behind isn’t really shaking him up at all. it shakes SONIC up later, but up until that point.... the cop just has legit a perfect life and it’s kinda sad because sonic appearing in it physically becomes something that immediately has the effect of “starting to ruin it” and thats why the cop is so like, mean about things at first. 

see I don’t really like that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. if I were to rewrite this keeping the general ideas in mind, I would have opted for a ... paul blart crossed with judy hopps. a guy who’s life isn’t all in order, maybe not living in trash but he doesn’t have a wife, he DREAMS of being a cop and saving people, but he doesn’t quite have what it takes physically/mentally or maybe he’s too afraid to even try. he loves his rural town but thinks like, maybe if I move to the big city I’ll find myself maybe he’s offered a job there for something boring and is like resigning to a boring life idk there’s a lot you can do but you get the idea! a lonely underdog with big dreams. so when Sonic comes into his life, its WAY more impactful to paul hopps.....judy blart...... that Sonic pleads for help saving his life and this sudden adventure isn’t ruining his life either. 

then LATER when we get to sonic being upset that paul hopps wants to leave, it’s less this awkward confrontation “how dare you wanna live your already in motion dreams somewhere ELSE  because people love you HERE” (like .. oof bad take tbh) it would be a much nicer “why do you want to leave your home to become a hero when everyone here already sees you as one” and instead of the shabby like “well I guess I’ll stay because i crossed off saving someone from my bucket list” paul hopps would feel fulfilled he saved sonic and I actually you know what? I’d change up the whole scene with the turtle to be at the end where paul hopps becomes a cop in green hills and he like, saves a turtle crossing the road and is like! that’s what its all about being a hero! like thats cute and resonates with an audience, the message like, being a hero just means being kind and doing the right thing, which is way more suitable for a sonic movie when the sonic series has always been a campy power of friendship thing. 

in a similar vein, the cop being a lonely underdog would give him a better connection with sonic, so that even if he was annoyed by him at first he’d later have the understanding they’re one in the same, you know? connections people!! themes!!!! 

anyway but enough of that au 

so the last thing I’m like iffy about is how robotnik was handled. like jim carry is funny and stuff but it felt like a bit of a mess like, this character is repeatedly reminding us what a hard ass I’M SUPERIOR THAN YOU MY IQ IS HUGE but then being super mega goofy, like I’m all for eccentric scientists but it felt kind of disconnected? and idk like not to be that guy but man.. i remember when sonic 06 came out and everyone hated how eggman was slimmed down to what he looked like in that game jfkdfsgksdj like my brain really doesn’t find a fully slender bodied eggman palatable like......... let my mans be fat ... WHICH tbh I’m a little nervous because at the end of the movie we see this implication that robotnik is turning more visually into the eggman we know with the stache and bald head but I’m worried they’re gonna also go with “and he also gets fat” cause I don’t like that sort of thing, you know? 

i think that’s all for my major criticisms!! but otherwise like! the movie was genuinely really fun and goofy and it felt very in spirit with the sonic franchise! 

if you read bogleech’s post I agree with him whole heartedly that this is the best characterization of sonic. it feels almost like?????? the characterization he was MEANT To have but he always ended  up going TOO MUCH in the direction of confident and cocky and being too cool and successful about it? I love sonic with that hyper teenager-like personality, it’s incredibly charming and cute, like I never Hated sonic as a character but he was defs like... lower on my list of characters in the franchise I found interesting. I felt like I could connect with movie sonic a lot and like! i’d want to be his friend, you know? I really really want to see more of him like that! 

I also agree big time that the movie had the best use of bullet time I’ve ever seen! I’m like omg?? WHY hasnt that ever been a mechanic in a game? 

and overall just like the cuteness like............I literally almost cried when the little girl gave sonic her shoes like AAAAAAAAAAAAA WEEPS............ and the end with sonic getting his own room thats so super cute too!!!! 

oh and the post credits scene with tails was SO FUCKING HYPE like, people in the theater audibly gasped and started being like  YESSSSSSS tails looks really great! 

so like YEAH dabs ,, being a story snob aside it was a fun and cute movie and I’m glad to hear it trumped detective pikachu for a video game movie  I’m glad it’s brought some attention to the sonic franchise! like while it’s cool in some aspects that Nerd Culture is mainstream now, it’s absolutely exhausting the HUGE focus on that is marvel and DC and all that stuff........ like theres nothing wrong w/ liking that but its like.. hm.... idk how to explain it but................. as someone who was bullied a lot in school for liking things like sonic.. like I guess stuff like that people usually see as lame stuff for babies??? superheroes are more like, macho and palatable to adults?? it’s been a good experience for all my normie coworkers to ask what I did for valentines day and I tell them “I saw the sonic the hedgehog movie” and I BRACE myself reflexively to be laughed at but not a single person did they were just like oh cool! how was it? like it really makes me appreciate I got to at least grow up and feel a little more accepted! 

so THATS my thoughts feel free to comment and discuss!