#they won't because passive aggression will be straining and they have to work together and SEE each other

[katyspersonal]

I start to think internet is honestly not such a bad place to make friends at. It is just really treacherous. In real life, you can disagree with the person on even important topics several times for months, years even, and you will still have contact. But online, all it takes is like, ONE negative interaction or bad post for person that kept cherishing and supporting you and sharing their life with you to disown you, and all previous feelings and experiences get retroactively ruined.

Not just that, but also there are plenty of terminally online idiots that can't to save their lives grasp the concept of how not everyone will get along. Some people just WILL have a conflict, some people just WILL make you angry or YOU will make them angry. I legit heard the "it doesn't matter if she was nice to you, she was rude to like 4 people in the span of 5-6 years so if you ignore that you are selfish and don't care about the community uwu" cultish nonsense about myself (only real ones remember xd). This shit just doesn't happen in reality, you can have straight up enemy in your class/workplace and people will try to fix the situation. And sure if one person snapped at another, people try to resolve this.

I honestly think that the whole "b-but internet friendships are not real!!!!1! uwu" bunch aside, people are generally lazy about bonds and relationships. That the only way they will ever put effort into preserving bonds and communicating despite issues is if they are forced to by sharing a physical space. In real life they can't just block a person out of their life and be done, they will have to see them in family, in the class, at work, just accidentally meet them in the city etc. So they have to talk it out. But how having to do it can be a real choice? Like... internet is a good place to make friends at because if a person that had a CHOICE to never see you again, that was not FORCED to endure you still sticks with you regardless of negative interactions - it means that they are real one. You can only know whether someone actually needs you or not when they have full freedom of choice without any consequences, but only internet can reveal this much. It just takes a while to find right people, but it is worth it. Basically, internet doesn't "ruin" people, it just reveals their true nature because only not having consequences can do that. But it also reveals who actually wants to accept you, flaws or not, when irl you can't know if that's real or they are forced to to not make their lives harder 🤔

[androdetective]

Swap!Juanín Juan Harry

In this au, Juanín swaps places with Tulio as the role of news conductor. He also gets some of the traits of og Tulio. He is more confident and charismatic. He's worked hard for his place as conductor and is proud of it. He is more professional than og Tulio and actually works. However, because of his confidence, he's more opinionated. He tends to think others as incompetent and annoying. Juanín tries to keep up a good reputation and tolerate guests/people he doesn't like. He does talk behind their backs, though amongst friends. He prides himself on his cute looks and appeal and will use it to his advantage. Whether it be through furthering his reputation, views, getting favors, or getting away with things. He likes having things on track and is still a good worker. If too many things go wrong in the studio, he'll get overwhelmed and have to be calmed down. Despite his confidence, he is still quite anxious. He's better at not showing it, but not having control over his work is an easy way to make him anxious. The studio is a chaotic place, but he's gotten used to it.

He works alongside his co-worker, Amapola, who takes Bodoque's role of estrella periodista. She is a co-worker/friend he's come to trust and confides in her the most. They work well off of each other, but each have their limits. She thinks he can be full of himself, a jerk, and an idiot for how he can handle certain things. Juanín thinks she can be too passive-aggressive/a jerk, competitive, and negative for his liking. This leads to many fights, but despite it they're still friends. Snarky mean girl friends who do chisme but friends.

Since he swaps roles with Tulio, Tulio now works as the producer and his assistant. Tulio is in charge of getting the show to run smoothly and everything else. Unfortunately, it's Tulio, so he's not the best at it. Juanín often has to remind Tulio to do things or fix his messes. He often gets tired of him but keeps him around since he does all the work. The other reason he's kept around is because they're childhood friends. Tulio sticks around because he's dreamed of being the anchorman and is hoping that happens someday. He can be a bit of a suck up to Juanín because of this. Juanín knows this but won't let that happen since he's worked hard to be the anchorman. He also doesn't think Tulio would do a good job of hosting the news. They have a bit of a strained relationship because of this. Tulio gets frustrated/bitter not getting the job he wants and having to do so much work. Juanín gets frustrated having to trail behind Tulio because he messes up often. When they work well together they seem to enjoy each other's company.

Juanín used to work with Bodoque, but due to high amounts of tension, Bodoque decided to quit. This led to Juanín hiring Amapola, a childhood friend, to be the new host of la nota verde. Juanín feels bad over Juan Carlos leaving. Especially when one of the reasons he did was because Juanín neglected Bodoque's worsening well-being to instead focus more on work/fame. But he had to continue on with the show. He still harbors difficult feelings towards him and hasn't talked with him in years.

[billhaderlovebot]

of heartbreak and raviolis - aaron conners

summary: you're sick and tired of everyone taking advantage of your best friend, aka aaron conners, aka the most wonderful man in the world, aka the man you love. not so subtle amy bashing fic.

tags: @whoseblogsthis @mpmarypoppins @a-second-hand-sorrow

aaron conners had always had shitty taste in women. you'd mainly thought so because none of the women he'd ever picked happened to be you.

aaron was too soft. too soft for this world and the men and women in it. they would break him. they would ball up the effervescent, unconditional kindness and love he had for people and shove it right back down.

amy was going to break him, too.

you knew she would.

and, oh, how you hated her. you hated her and how unreliable she was and the infuriating vapidness within her and her terrifying lack of respect for the man you had loved since you were seventeen. your best friend.

watching him kiss her was hell. watching him fall for her, knowing he was gone and there was nothing you could do about it, was worse.

but he was so happy, and he looked at her like she'd hung the moon.

it fucking hurt.

because you were tired of sitting by while everyone took advantage of how fucking nice he always was.

because you knew what was coming. and you didn't have the heart to say "i told you so".

"hey, hey, slow down, honey, i can't understand you."

aaron was crying. his voice came broken and shuddering down the line, trying desperately to get something out that wasn't cut with a sob burning from his chest. but you already knew what he was going to say. you knew, and you were pulling on a sweater and grabbing your keys before he could explain.

"she... she said-" and he couldn't get it out. the sound of his heartbreak made your own heart shatter.

"im coming over." you breathed, slamming the door and heading out into the night to comfort the man you had always wanted but could never have.

---

amy had cheated. actually, amy had been cheating for quite some time. she had never stopped, in fact.

you'd been tangled together on aaron's couch, a mass of crying and limbs and throw blankets, for hours now.

"i thought she loved me." aaron scoffed, staring blankly out of the window to where the sun was just beginning to rise over new york.

his head was in your lap and the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity was your hand threading through his hair. "she said she loved me."

he let out a mirthless laugh, and you were suddenly furious.

"i'm so fucking angry." you whispered, eyes intent on aaron's face, angled towards the sunrise, the remnants of heartbreak in shining tracks down his cheeks.

"why?" he inquired, turning over to look up at you.

"because... because this shouldn't happen, aaron. not to you."

---

light snores filled the quiet apartment as aaron drifted off in your arms. he had moved so that his face rested in the crook of your shoulder, his hand draped over your waist. you couldn't help but feel that this was a little bit not fair. it wasn't the first time something like this had happened to him, and it wasn't the first time you'd had to hold him and comfort him and pretend you hadn't been painfully in love with him since high school. so here you were, again, the doting, supportive best friend. again. fuck.

in sleep, he looked younger. in sleep, he looked content, save for the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, the remainder of the day's emotional strain. it disappeared with the gentle press of your lips against the soft skin, and aaron unconsciously held onto you a little tighter. your heart ached as it did when you were a teenager.

when, at seventeen, you lay eyes on him at a house party, shrouded in smoke and coloured lights and the thumping bass of some nondescript vaporwave track, your heart skipped, like, twelve beats or something.

and, when, blue eyed and floppy haired, he looked back at you, raising his red plastic cup, your heart fell out of your ass. upon trying to talk to the guy who had so quickly stolen your heart, you spilled your vodka soda all over him. he tipped his own drink over your head. you stared at each other for several solid seconds of short lived fury, and then cracked up, immediately going to find more alcohol. you were best friends from that day on.

you were the one who supported him through medical school, helping him study and walking to campus every morning to give him coffee and whatever baked good you deemed acceptable. bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and the promise of a movie marathon.

you endured aaron's many vapid, fake-nice, passive-aggressive girlfriends who would loathe you and shoot you looks that, should they kill, would have you six feet fucking under.

you pushed how deeply in love with him you were right down below the surface, because his happiness was more important to you.

you thought, now, almost a decade later, as he had cried in your arms for hours about a woman that didn't feel the same, that it might be time for you to get your feelings in order and fucking tell him that all you wanted was for him to take you in his arms and kiss you fucking senseless.

and then they got back together.

"aaron, you fuck- you what?" you were absolutely livid, like, struggling-to-hold-the-phone-without-smashing-it-into-someone's-face livid.

"um, i, i just really want to make it work with her, and she was really sorry, and-"

"aaron, she broke your fucking heart."

"yeah, i know, i-

"and i was the one to let you cry your fucking eyes out on me for hours, even though it hurt. i've stood by for years, watching people hurt you and knowing there was nothing i could do about it."

"i'm not your responsibility, honey." he said. "this is my own life and i... you don't have to be involved."

"how can you fucking say that, aaron? of course i do. i won't let her do this to you again. i'm your best fucking friend, is that not enough for you?"

"...i guess not."

you'd never wanted to beat aaron to death before, but if he continued being so fucking stupid, you'd advise him not to put it past you. there was a deafening silence on the phone after that, because there was nothing you could say to change his mind, and nothing he could say that would make you not want to murder amy townsend. or him.

"i won't do this anymore." you finally said, a lump in your throat.

"what?"

"pretend that... that i'm not in love with you so that i can be okay with the manipulative assholes you pick as girlfriends."

"wh-?"

"goodbye, aaron."

---

the month that followed was probably the worst month of your entire life. you didn't speak to aaron once. no calls, no emails, no 2am visits to listen to billy joel and eat junk and talk about how you both carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. you'd always shared that weight, and, now, it was like someone had torn you in half and left you bleeding.

you were halfway through the last episode of season ten of friends, and your second box of cold pop tarts, crying your eyes out, when the doorbell rang. you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of one of aaron's old college sweaters and dragged yourself up from the couch. your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the disheveled, very attractive man hyperventilating in front of you when the front door swung open.

"aaron?" you stumbled over your thrift store welcome mat you bought because of the blue cat on it, holding yourself up on the door frame and staring up at him in sleepy disbelief.

"hi, yes, hi." aaron was breathing hard, the aftermath of running the whole two miles to your apartment in the middle of the night. "i've been thinking a lot about... about what you said, and i just, i've missed you, yknow? and, i, um, not that that makes everything okay, because i didn't listen to you, and it sucked, and-"

"what do you want?" you asked, trying not to punch him. "i'm tired, aaron. and not just physically. i'm tired of waiting around for you to love me."

"oh, well that's, um, that's good." he nodded, peeling off his jacket. "sorry, um, im sweaty-"

"that's good?" you blinked. aaron was clueless at the best of times, but this was insane.

"yes, yeah, because i realised something, um, just now, at home, with amy."

"i really don't want to hear about amy right now-"

"no, i know, i just, um, i realised that she's not who i want." he shrugged.

"it's about fucking time, aaron, i swear to god-"

"you're my best friend, and... i meant what i said, yknow, about that not being enough for me."

aaron ducked under the doorframe, bending down to capture your lips with his own. your eyes widened, and you froze up, your arms at your sides. the fact that aaron conners was kissing you just wouldn't compute.

and then it did, and you were kissing him back, your arms flying around his neck and your fingers twisting into his hair.

the kiss was searing, and your skin burned where his hands trailed across your cheeks, cupping your jaw, and up the back of your shirt, ghosting across your hip bones.

even when you stumbled back into your apartment, falling backwards over the couch, aaron was relentless, attaching his lips to your neck as if nothing was amiss.

what stood out to you was how easy this was. how you were able to fall into place so quickly as if you'd been doing this for years. as if you hadn't been pining for him for half your life.

"hey," you broke the kiss, gazing up at him in all his blue eyed, flustered, swollen-lipped glory. "hey, we have some, ah, things to talk about, i think."

aaron nodded, swallowing. "yeah, um, yeah."

you pecked his lips, closing your eyes. you just wanted to be someone who had kissed aaron conners, no complications, for a few seconds longer.

"raviolis?" he asked quietly, still hovering above you with that signature, heart-melting grin.

"it's 1am, aaron."

"i know a guy."