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dustysalmon · 2 days ago

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 3

Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers, enforcer!reader Word count: 4.2k

Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?

Takes up at the end of episode 7.

Read on ao3 ⎜ Previous chapter

The air is wrong, heavy and oppressive, pressing against your chest like a weight. It reeks of iron, sharp and metallic, clinging to the back of your throat until you can taste it. The ground shifts beneath you, unstable. There is chatter everywhere all at once, voices raging you on, they echo like a vicious prayer, going on and on. You don’t catch the words, not all of them, but one cuts through the noise.

"Do it."

The sound of a broken bottle shattering in the street jolts you awake from your regenerative slumber. You run a hand through your hair and glance at the old pendulum clock. Shit, you’ve been asleep for nearly three hours. You sigh. When does a nap become not a nap anymore? The coffee you’d made before slipping into unconsciousness still sits on your desk. As expected, it’s cold as rain, but you drink a sip regardless. It tastes just as bad as it sounds, and by the time you’re halfway through the third gulp, you regret it. You’ve never really liked coffee. Too bitter and burnt. Too ashy. You know that taste, breathed it in and consumed it for years working in the mines. Of all the memories you have from that time, this is one you’d rather do without. But the drink certainly provides you a with a much needed kick, though, so occasionally, you give in.

You put the cup down next to your folded uniform with a sound of disgust. You fidget with the golden epaulettes, wondering if showing up in full gear at what is likely the heart of the undercity is a judicious idea. Enforcers have never been particularly welcome in these parts. Save for the industrial district, they don’t really venture these streets anymore unless some unexpected event arises, or the Council explicitly demands it. Walking the streets is not inherently dangerous, but showing up like this at the Eye of Zaun’s doorstep could easily be taken as provocation.

No vest, you decide, and definitely not that ridiculous helmet. You put on your uniform pants, secure your thigh holster tightly, and slide your weapon into place. For good measure, you tuck a sizeable dagger into your boot. Your badge is a little worn out, scratched and not as shiny as it once was. Good thing they’ll be giving you a brand new one soon. You snap it onto your belt and take a breath.

Before falling asleep, you had the time to think about how you would approach this. But as it’s time to go now, you’re not so sure of your decision anymore. The Gemstone still lays intact in its nest of straw and cotton. Bringing it with you had seemed like a reasonable idea a few hours ago, but now that you’re well-rested, it just sounds dangerous. Even so, you take it out and carefully place it in one of your utility pouches.

It’s an insanely risky move, you realise that, but it’s not like you have much else to show for. If there is one chance to get Silco to hear you out, then the Gemstone has to be it. The man dealt with Marcus after all—there must have been some kind of exchange or agreement between them. That means he’s not entirely opposed to working with enforcers. If anything it’s simply a calculated move on his part.

Piltover and the undercity are not mutually exclusive, despite all the disagreements and conflicts that oppose them. And while it is common knowledge that many Zaunites want its independence, from a purely economical standpoint, it seems unrealistic to pull out completely from topside’s economy. Virtually all exports go there—chemtech, Shimmer, food. And needless to say that underground food is already not too popular. Shimmer, though frowned upon in Piltover, plays vastly different roles depending on where you are. For most Pilties, it’s just a recreational drug. But for Zaunites, it’s often a desperate means of survival, a lifeline—one as brutal as it is short-lived. Most in the undercity can’t even afford it, and those who can tend to die quickly, whether from overdoses or the craving that comes afterward.

The undercity cannot sustain itself completely with the way things are at the moment, shutting down the export would be the final nail in the coffin. Merchants are visibly suffering from the recent blockade, and it’s only been a couple of days. If tensions don’t subside soon, the damage would be irreparable. Maybe you could get a word in with Warren now that he is in charge—the thought makes you uncomfortable— but you doubt he would lift the blockade. He’s always looked at the undergrounds with nothing but disdain and contempt. Lots to think about, you sigh, and lock the door behind you.

You take one of the city elevators to get to the upper levels. If there is a thing that works in the undercity, it’s those massive moving platforms. They’re essential to everyone who lives or works in the undergrounds. Whenever one of them breaks down, maintenance workers know better than to delay repairs—unless they want to risk being "encouraged" to act faster in a dark back alley. Before heading to your final destination, you stop by a scrap workshop to send a memo through the pneumatic tube systems. The riskiness of the situation isn’t lost on you, so…contingencies.

The Lanes are a much more pleasant district than where you come from—by undercity standards. If your mom weren't so stubborn about clinging to her old house, you would have moved there with her. The area is buzzing with bars, fighting pits, brothels and enough entertainment for a lifetime. This part of town never truly sleeps. And situated right in the heart of it is the Last Drop. It is some kind of an institution—the place where Zaunites come to meet, drink, and brawl. It’s definitely not as family-friendly as it once was, but you would argue it kept its charm.

The building certainly stands out, a large neon green eye on its front, overlooking the streets, watching and monitoring like an invisible hand. Loud muffled music fills your ears even though the entrance is still a couple feet away. Two drunkards are being unceremoniously tossed out by a bouncer that is twice the size of any human you’ve ever seen. The pair keep swinging at each other outside, bottles in hand, emptying a little more at each movement. Frankly, the wind has more to fear than anyone else. While the bouncer is still busy keeping them away from the establishment, you sleep in through the unmistakable asymmetric door.

The bass thrums through the floorboards, making the place vibrate, you can feel each beat in your core. The air is filled with sweat and burnt ozone. Smoke from cheap cigars curls lazily beneath the neon lights buzzing overhead, plunging the room in vibrant greens, blues, and reds.

People chatter and shout at the bar, desperately trying to compete with the music. Good thing most of the occupations you see don’t require much talking. In the back, a pool game unfolds with a small crowd pressing close, exploding with cheers and groans whenever the cue ball cracks against its target. Coins fly from all parts, clattering onto the felt as bets are settled. Closer to you, a drinking game is in full swing, the two participants slamming their fists in time with the chanting onlookers. Other tables host quieter contests like cards games, dice rolls, the opponents faces locked in concentration despite the noise.

Your enforcer instincts can’t help but zero in on the plethora of illicit activities taking place in the not-so-discreet booths lining the edges of the venue. In one of them, an older man with a clockwork monocle sits alone, a small stack of coins and a ledger in front of him. He adjusts the monocle with a twitch of his hand as he counts. People come and go from his table in quick exchanges, sliding small bags of coins or slips of paper across to him, always leaving with a vial or two of chem-fluids—you can’t exactly tell which one. And then of course, there’s Shimmer—everywhere. You’re in the belly of the beast after all.

In another booth, a trio is enjoying the product in all its forms. One of them, a woman with a mechanical hand, uncaps a vial with a twist, the purple liquid inside glows faintly, very distinctive. She pours a drop onto her tongue, her eyes dilate instantly as she leans back with an exhale. One of her companions breathes in the product directly from a mask, and the man sitting across from them seems to be injecting himself directly via a makeshift IV device. All is well in the heart of the undercity: ugly, loud, and oddly energetic. Maybe you should go out more often.

You make your way through the raucous crowd, some rare customers are sober enough to recognise the badge hanging from your belt. If they feel offended or even slightly threatened by your presence, they make no show of it. Having worked quite a bit around the industrial district, you recognise a few of Smeech’s goons. They’re hard to miss with the outrageous body augments—unsurprising, given that it’s their boss’s area of expertise. They make sure to flaunt it every chance they get.

It is no secret that they take a lot of pride working for the chem-barons, whichever one it may be. It’s a sign of status that is rather difficult to achieve in these streets. Chem-barons quite simply represent the ruling class among Zaunites. They reign supreme over their respective districts with an iron hand, always dancing on the questionable edge of order and terror. Most topsiders are incapable of admitting that the undercity is anything more than a giant disorganised cesspool, a realm of anarchy. But those who call it home know that this couldn’t be further from the truth. Within the city lies a cleverly constructed hierarchy with distinct branches, loosely implemented laws, and, ironically, even a council. It’s perfectly imperfect, but it’s been holding the undercity together for as long as you can remember—no mere fit. you suspect that the man you’re here to meet tonight, should he be so inclined, is at least partially responsible for that.

A set of stairs and balcony hover above the bar, which you guess lead directly to the lair of the Eye of Zaun, but as you expected, two bouncers are blocking the way, arms crossed and menacing faces on display. You nod politely to both of them, not that you believe manners will get you anywhere here. They look you up and down, eyes stopping briefly on the gun resting at your hips.

"I’m here to see your boss." You shout over the music, unsure if they can hear you at all. By their shared expression, you can tell that they do—they’ve adapted to this cacophony long ago.

"He’s not expecting," says the man on the left, though you have to read it on his lips as he doesn’t bother to speak up.

You press your luck. "It’s very important that I speak with him," you insist.

You try to plead your case, but they don’t seem very inclined to let you pass. Fuck, you didn’t think this through at all. And who’s idea was it to come at this hour, with this racket all around you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene in front of an audience. You go for the usual techniques, asking them to imagine what would happen if their boss found out they prevented crucial information from reaching him. But they remain unmoved.

"Is there a problem here?" a voice asks from the side. You turn around and crane your neck up about sixty degrees to look at the imposing woman towering over you. Silco’s right hand, Sevika, if you’re not mistaken. A no-nonsense type for certain. People know better than to fuck about when she’s around. You decide to be straightforward this time.

"It’s about the girl." Her eyes widen, if only briefly. Clearly you should have started with that. No wonder you weren’t appointed to the crisis negotiation unit. Like the bouncers before her, she glances at your weapon, and holds out her hand. Without a fuss, you hand it over, which seems to surprise her in a good way. With a tilt from her head, she motions for you to move ahead. You do as instructed climbing the stairs and following a long corridor until you reach a weathered wooden door. Sevika opens it without a word, or knock, and gestures for you to step inside, moving behind you like a shadow.

And there he is, sitting in a large armchair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, and a cigar smouldering between his long fingers. He doesn’t greet you or offer any pretence of civility—you expected nothing less. He does look at you intently however, his good eye fixed on you, sharp and calculating, while the other glows faintly in the dim light of the room. It’s not shocking, not when you are from the undercity, but it is striking. Unavoidable. For a fleeting second, something flickers in his expression. Recognition. He doesn’t bother to hide it, but his face remains composed. Your pulse quickens, heart drumming in your ears, feeling even louder than the music downstairs. There’s no hostility in his gaze, just that unsettling calm that feels more dangerous than any overt threat.

His outfit catches your attention. A crimson shirt, freshly pressed, with intricate golden embroidery on the cuffs; a sophisticated waistcoat adorned with elaborate patterns, straps and polished gold buttons; and a white silk tie, knotted in a cafe style. The spitting image of a Piltovian gentleman if you ignore the venue. Curious.

For what feels like an eternity, he doesn’t speak, and neither do you. The room is filled only with the muffled music coming from the bar. Impressive walls, you think to yourself. Must be nice. You hold his gaze, refusing to flinch or look away, even as his lips curl into the faintest suggestion of a smirk. You get the exact same feeling you got when you saw him first on the bridge. This inexplicable gravitas, this pull. It’s in the way he carries himself, as if the room, the city, the world itself bends around him without him even needing to try.

He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the ember flaring, before blowing the smoke aside in a cloud. You square your shoulders and lift your chin, matching his stare with one of your own. Unfortunately, you’ve never been good at this game, and start clearing your throat.

Subtly, Silco eyes’s drift to Sevika, and before you can figure out the meaning of that minuscule gesture, the woman’s mechanical arm comes swinging at you with great speed. The only reason you successfully dodge it is because you heard the metal clinking a little too close to your face. She sneers at you, her grey eyes glinting. She is incredibly fast, inhumanly so. She grips one of your wrists in her large hand and twists your arm around and behind your back. It hurts like hell but you’re not about to fold so quickly. You throw your head back and hit her square in the nose. This actually seems to hurt her a little, given the way she groans, and lets go of you.

From the comfort of his armchair, Silco is looking very irritated, mostly with himself. Perhaps he should have heard you out right away, and spared himself this spectacle. Well, it’s too late for that now. With great efforts, you land a couple of blows to Sevika’s stomach and thigh, but she seems utterly unphased. Meanwhile, you feel the energy quickly draining from you. One moment of inattention, and you are flipped around and forcefully dropped to the ground. She has you this time. One harsh movement and you may end up with a dislocated shoulder, perhaps worse, considering the woman’s strength.

Finally, Silco puts out his cigar and rises from his chair. He goes to stand by the window, looking away from you and Sevika.

"Whatever you have for me, it better be worth my time." His voice is smooth but low and menacing, like the gentle press of a knife against your throat. You turn your head as much as you can to address Sevika.

"Utility pouch on the right side." You groan, your arm is starting to seriously hurt. With one hand, Sevika pokes around, making sure to keep the mechanical one firmly on you. You can’t really see what’s going on but by the way she suddenly stops moving and releases her grip completely, you can guess that she has found what you wanted her to find.

Silco’s mask finally wavers, his eyes fixed on the blue glowing orb, as if hypnotised. He shifts his gaze between you and the shiny object. He looks perplexed. On a good day, he reads his associates and foes like an open book, that’s always been his strength. It’s much easier to control people if you know what they want, and what they are ready to lose in order to get it. But you, he completely misread you. And that angers him on many levels.

"It was bold, coming here alone. I could simply order Sevika to take the gemstone from you, and dump your body in a dark alley." An empty threat, probably. You’ve always imagined the Eye of Zaun to be unapologetically ruthless, but not unreasonable. No one makes it to the very top and keeps their seat for so long without compromising. But now that he is overtly threatening your life, with intent, you are tempted to reconsider.

"We both know you have no use for it. Not until you’ve figured out how to exploit it."

"What makes you think I haven’t?" He asks, shifting his head towards you as you rise to your feet.

"I figured if you wanted to use the stone you would have done it already." Silco easily hears the doubt in your voice.

"But you don’t know that for certain. You came here on a hunch."

"Listen, if this wasn’t obvious, I don’t know where I’m going with this," you say, a mix of panic and irritation overtaking you. "But there are people in topside who are hellbent on using Hextech technology to ends you don’t wanna find out. I came here in good faith. I came to you first."

"What is it that you want from me?" He asks, walking around the desk towards Sevika.

"For the meantime, I am asking you—" that gets you a raised eyebrow from both Silco and Sevika. "—to not attempt any retaliation. It’ll only convince them to strike back even harder." Silco’s brain stops on that particular word, "retaliation". Does that lady enforcer have it all figured out already? What Jinx is to him? He could have sworn he’d been more careful than that. His eyes meet Sevika’s, and her message is clear. She’s warned him multiple times about his carelessness lately, and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass.

Sevika drops the gemstone in the palm of his hand. He rolls it around slowly, reminiscing about the day Jinx brought it back to him, then turns to you. In truth, he had hoped you would have been the one to bring her up first. Him being the one doing it, that might as well be a confession. That makes him vulnerable, he’s aware, but when it comes to Jinx, he simply can’t help it. He grabs the whisky glass that’s been sitting on the desk, and downs it in a single gulp. A hopeless attempt at displaying disinterest that is not as convincing as he thinks.

"How is she?" About time, you think to yourself. He looked about ready to burn the bridge down to get to that blue-haired girl the other day. You have yet to discover what that was all about, but you have your theories. Although it’s difficult to picture the big bad kingpin of the undercity as a father figure, it’s not as far-fetched as it seems. Or maybe Jinx is simply that good, not expandable. Something you wouldn't argue against, given the trouble she’s given you and your colleagues lately.

"Still in recovery. You’re probably already planning some kind of extraction." You pause in the hopes of getting a hint of a confirmation, but he’s giving you nothing. "Don’t bother. For now, her best chances are with Piltover’s doctors. It’s probably more than she deserves."

Silco slams his now empty glass on the desk. You continue before he gets a chance to spit his venom towards you. "A lot of men died yesterday."

"Forgive me if I don’t collapse in a heap of grief on their behalf." You lower your head, a bitter smile adorning your face.

"She will be transferred to Stillwater once they’re done with her. I need your word." He stays silent, weighing his options. "The Council doesn’t know I’m in possession of the Gemstone. Or anybody else, for that matter. Only the people in this room. I intend to keep it that way."

"I’m sure you understand that I cannot just take your word for it." He is right, as much as you loathe it. It only takes him a couple of seconds to come up with his terms. "I want regular updates on her condition, and a physician’s report, just to make sure you’re playing fair. It’s always…difficult to tell with enforcers."

"You want me to steal documents from the medical facility?"

"I need a guarantee." He says matter-of-factly, and deep inside, you know it is a perfectly justified request, but still.

"What’s my guarantee?" You shoot back.

"You get to walk out of here alive. It’s probably more than you deserve." He says nonchalantly, purely to spite you, and you don’t know whether you’re supposed to laugh, or strangle him. You realise that you can’t haggle your way out of this. The Gemstone was your only bargaining chip, and you used it from the get go. You don’t have any other offers to make, or any additional information to share regarding Jinx. Either you take the deal, or find out what happens when you rile up the Eye of Zaun.

"I’ll see what I can do." You say with a sigh, feeling beaten. Silco didn’t expect an enthusiastic response, but he is used to it. Something you learn when you’re accustomed to getting the better end of every deal—a skill he is not hitching to let go of.

Satisfied, he leans against the edge of the desk after handing you back the stone, scrutinising you with narrowed eyes.

"You're not from topside, are you?"

You raise an eyebrow, a bit wary. "What gave me away?" Silco shrugs, tilting his head to the side.

"You came to me." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Yes, because that is what all Zaunites usually do at the end of the day, they turn to him. Not matter his reputation or the gruesome tales surrounding him. He has always been considered the voice of the people of the undercity, and that counts for a lot. "And also," he adds, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "You lack that air of superiority they all have. Not quite high and mighty enough." He crosses his arms. "But the way you talk—the way you hold yourself. Almost as if you think you belong up there." You frown slightly, a hint defensive, but decide not to respond.

Sevika hands you your weapon, and you recognise it as your sign to take your leave. Neither you or Silco set a time or place for an eventual new meeting. That’s alright. He knows you know where to find him, you think to yourself before leaving.

Sevika waits for the door to shut completely before turning to her boss.

"That’s unlike you. Swinging before talking." She says, picking up a rag somewhere to properly clean her bloody nose.

"I was right to do so, apparently. You almost made a fool of yourself there." He taunts, and Sevika scoffs, only mildly offended. Although she recognises that the little brawl shouldn’t have lasted as long as it did. She would never admit it, though.

"I wasn’t trying."

They proceed to talk about the day, as they always do, and Silco purposely avoids the topic of the most recent meeting. It’s still too fresh in his head, and he knows that whenever Jinx is in the picture, he and Sevika can only disagree. So he asks her about the Firelights, Shimmer sales, anything to get his mind off that new deal he just made, if he can call it that.

Suddenly, there’s an insistent knock at the door, and as soon as Sevika opens it, one of the bouncers barges in breathless, sweat covering his forehead.

"There was an attack, sir," he says, a hand resting on his pounding chest. "It’s one of the Shimmer factories."

Thank you for reading!

Let me know if you would like a taglist :)

Chapter 1 ⎜ Chapter 2

#silco #silco x reader #arcane #dusty writes

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tevantarlos · 2 days ago

Note

Feel free to ignore but I just have to get this out. I know this sounds mean but I´m happy that

a) Tim and Oliver lurk in fandom like no other and are seeing what people say about them and

b) Oliver had months of reprieve from the deranged people that make his following because they were turning all their guns on Lou. In fact he gained popularity because they convinced themselves (with his help, I add) that he is their champion and actually wants Buddie to happen. What does he think will happen now, when in a couple of weeks Buddie still has not happend? There is no Tommy standing in the way anymore and we will go right back to accusations of baiting and of people calling him fat and bald and almost too ugly for Eddie (yes, that happend). And when this happens and he has another whiny outburst on SM I will laugh until I fall over.

They droped the ball with every other LI before because they were to chicken shit to even try putting a stop to the endless harrassment. I think Megan West was the most egregious example of just leaving someone hanging and even encouraging the shit that went on online. They had a chance here, for the first time, to try to get out of this toxic Buddie brew they are in. If nothing else the way the relationship with Tommy was received, the way it garnered press by outlets other than glorified fan blogs like "Fangirlish" and gained them a new audience and the move to ABC all presented an opportunity to combat the toxicity by simply taking the fandom monopoly away from the crazies. But they just did not have the balls and now look at their pathetic attempts to make Brad happen on their IG. Engagement is low and what it there is the usual idiots screaming for Buddie and nothing else.

I hope it was worth it. I don´t see the show getting a 10th season, maybe not even a 9th. The spin off will be cheaper to produce, Peter talked about quitting before and the ratings trend downwards since S6. Not to mention the writing is absolute shit since Tim is back.

Maybe Oliver hopes that Callum Blue is the kind of guy that can get him a job after 911 gets canceled and is worth sucking up to. Last time I checked he couldn´t even get cast on a Hallmark movie so why not try, right? Buddie fans will not follow him either way, I hope he knows that.

Hey, hon. Thanks for the ask. Sorry I haven't posted this or replied before now. I haven't logged into my computer in a few days, have just been doing everything on my phone, and I didn't want to try to reply to this on my phone, that would takes ages.

I've been in the 911 fandom since two months after the last episode of season 1 aired. Oliver and 911 shot themselves in the foot by not shooting this Bvddie bullshit down from the very beginning. They've spent years leading Bvddie fans on, purposely having scenes with Buck and Eddie that cause the lunatics to see things that aren't there, because it gives the show more engagement.

Oliver and 911 know that Bvddie fans will never stop watching the show because they're so sure that at some point, 911 and Oliver will give in and make Bvddie canon because 'it's what they deserve'. At least, that's the bullshit I've read a lot of on Twitter and other places. What Bvddie fans don't understand, is they aren't owed shit.

I learned this the hard way when I was in the 100 fandom. I, and many other Bellarke fans thought that since we were loyal fans of the show, we'd be rewarded by getting Bellarke eventually. But just like Bvddie is never going to happen, Bellarke never happened. The writers and show runners had no interest in going there. They just liked to bait fans. Just like 911 does, with Buck and Eddie.

I personally feel like Oliver was relieved that all the hate was getting thrown at Lou and not himself, and he got a break from those assholes for a few months. But now that Lou and Tommy are gone, they're just going to go back to harassing him because Bvddie isn't canon and never will be, and those dumbasses can't cope.

Oliver knows that if he ever truly tells the Bvddie fans that it's never going to happen, he'll lose a large majority of his fan base. So, he just doesn't say anything. He encourages their twisted thinking and doesn't put them in their place when they're being assholes. Neither does Tim, so it's a monster of their own making. (The Bvddie fandom)

I can't speak on anything to do with the actresses of the other LI's. For many years since I started watching the show, I didn't interact with other fans much. The only time I did, was when I wrote fanfiction when I was a Bvddie shipper for 2 years, but after I found out what a bunch of toxic assholes they were, I ditched that fandom and am so glad I did.

Yeah, I check out the 911 IG page every few days because that's all I can stand. I can't look at it daily. All the Bvddie bullshit on every post claiming 'Bvddie canon, season 8!' It makes me roll my eyes so hard it hurts. Also, the way those idiots talk, like Buck and Tommy weren't in a relationship, like Buck is Eddie's one true love, and the other father of Chris.. God, I can't help but tell them how stupid they are for believing that. Especially since Ryan said in an interview that Chis has only one dad, and Buck sure as fuck ain't it.

The show will be lucky if it gets a season 9. This season is just not good, and I mean that honestly. Putting aside the BuckTommy of it all, it's crap. They focused too much on that Brad character which was a fucking waste of screen time. They traumatized Henren and their kids, had a plot that ended like within 5 minutes with Ortiz, had a decent start for Gerrard being a bad guy and dropped him for BRAD! Who the fuck cares about fucking Brad? No one.

When it comes to the IG posts, the first few days and maybe weeks after the BT breakup, both fans and GA made their feelings about the out of the blue breakup known, but after fighting the stupid Bvddie fans in the comments for a few days, most people backed off. I've gotten messages from people on IG who are BT and GA fans, who said that just like a lot of my comments on the IG page, their comments were removed for supporting BT, and for dishing out some of the bs that the Bvddie's have been doing for years.

Which once again shows that the people who man the 911 IG page, are catering to the most toxic assholes in the fandom. Every fucking post on the 911 IG has bullshit about Bvddie going canon, but people who talk about BT, or who even dare to criticize, in a nice way even, who criticize the plots being cut off, making no sense, the characters doing things that are out of character, they get deleted. But yet the lunatic's comments remain on the posts.

IF the show gets renewed for season 9, I'm betting it will be the last. This season so far has just been a shitshow. In terms of the writing for the show, and in terms of the Bvddie fans taking being complete assholes, to the highest degree imaginable.

I don't give a shit about Brad the character or his actor. I hate the character, he fucking annoys me. I didn't find any of this plot funny, just irritating and I want him gone. The mains were pushed to the background this season for Brad, some dumbass that's not some great character, but some idiot.

Also, Oliver is like a child. He only cares about praise and ass kissers. He says what will cause him to look good. I remember there was one time a few years ago, where he had some contact with a Bvddie fan and when the fan said that he was a dick for leading people on about Bvddie if it's not going to happen, he snapped back and said that he was just an actor doing this job and to stop being so mean to him.

In my opinion, he's a fucking moron who did it to himself. Him and Tim. As I said above, they could've gotten the assholes under control or even gotten rid of them from the start by being honest and just saying their stupid Bvddie is never going to happen. But no, they're too worried about ratings dropping, so they throw in Bvddie scenes every now and then to keep baiting those fans and they eat it all up.

Every time Buck and Eddie share a scene, those idiot's are all, "It's happening! Bvddie canon, y'all!" And then nothing ever happens, and those assholes get mad at being baited once again. It's been 7 1/2 seasons. If Bvddie were ever going to go canon, it would've happened by now.

#911 #BuckTommy #911 negativity

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 1 day ago

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Gmmtv 2025

So now, that I have time, I'm actually gonna sit and watch the trailers properly. Let's go.

Dare You to Death - The plot is appealing to me, the cast is interesting. I was never a JD fan so if I decide to watch it will be for all the ensemble and the actual plot.

Head 2 Head - My babies! Forced cohabitation my beloved. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see the vision thingy cause other than that this just seems like a cute bl, and I'm here for that.

Burnout Syndrome - OffGun in a love triangle? Gun being fought over by two men just has god intended? I am so seated for this!

Whale Store xoxo - MilkLove is back and I wanna like this one. It seems cute, and drama light. I'll probably be tuning in.

Only Friends - Dream On - The chill that came down my spine when the song started playing. I left my body. With that said, and like I said before, EarthMix is here, so who am I kidding? I will watch. Kinda surprised to see JossFluke already paired in another bl, before the first one has even started airing. OhmLeng was predictable as a recurring pair and I'm always here for Ohm. Leng has a lot to prove being surrounded by all these names.

That Summer - MOND! Mond kissing boys! That's it.

My Romance Scammer - Not in a million years did I think we would get this OhmFluke combo. Dimples is back kissing boys and Ohm is just back. And MarkJunior seem to be here to stay. Also, I love that since we got gay marriage we should immediately tackle gay divorce. Sounds good.

Melody of Secrets - I'm glad they're back playing adults although the dynamic seems to be the same. I wish they changed it up and let Book be the pursuer. I like the horror elements and we don't get enough of those but I don't know about this one.

Love You Teacher - The first half of this trailer had me. I love Perth and he's playing a grown up so I was sold. And then it happened. And I don't know how I feel about any of it.

MU-TE-LUV - I guess we're getting this and not OurSkyy3. Will watch the queers and the rest we'll see.

Cat for Cash - This is just rude. Do they know that cats are my ultimate weakness? I can't watch all these shows, but a show with talking cats? multiple of them?? C'mon. I'm not even gonna pretend to be torn about this one. I will be watching.

Girl Rules - So, Only Friends but make it sapphic. I'm sad to say, I'll probably pass on this one.

Boys In Love - PAPANG!!! The rumours were true and he's paired with Pod in this. All I saw in this trailer was that and the dimples. Who is that kid? Cause he's adorable. This is the obligatory high-school bl, it looks soft and fluffy. Might check it out.

My Magic Prophecy - I will be skipping this one.

A Dog and a Plane - What a mess of a trailer. But do I care? Not even a little. It's TayNew so I'll be watching with bells on.

Me and Thee - This show will be the true test of how shallow I can get. Will I start a show because Est was wearing glasses in the trailer? Only future me will know. Look, PondPhuwin can play, we know this, but I don't know if I want another show with them so soon. At least they're playing different roles, so there's that.

Wu - Who was saying this wasn't bl? Did you not see the golden thread? And the fate talk? And the looks? And well, everything? It's a bl. I don't know about this one mostly because I don't know the actors. Although tumblr is doing its job well and I'm this close to binging the frenemies show so maybe I'll reevaluate.

Memoir of Rati - I am so easy, it's embarrassing honestly. They so pretty, the scenery is so pretty, historical bl. Sold!

Ticket To Heaven - So many flashbacks to catholic school. It looks good, which doesn't surprise considering it's Aof. I'm glad GeminiFourth are back playing more serious roles. I am really intrigued by this one but also don't trust it completely for some reason. I don't know yet.

Yeah, I'm a sucker. I will be watching most of the first episodes of this line up in like a year when they actually get made. Probably not gonna stick with a lot of them but we'll see. As it's becoming obvious, I'm easy.

Also just a fun fact I guess, and as @lurkingshan as said here, with these shows, 4 couples will hit 5 series as a pair. OffGun, FirstKhao, ForceBook and EarthMix, even though that last one I'm counting Ossan's Love which is also not released yet.

And another thing, of the Gmmtv 2024 QL shows, 7 have yet to premiere. Thame Po, will premiere December 13 but the other six don't have dates yet. They are : My Golden Blood, Ossan's Love, The Ex-Morning, Us, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist and Revamp. So yeah, we're not gonna see any of these new shows anytime soon. Although I'm putting my money on the OffGun series being one of the first to premiere in this line up.

All the trailers and posters for gmmtv2025 can be found here.

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sknnyvanilla · 3 days ago

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The Chic Diet by kit olsen

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Diets

The Baby Food Diet

Ohmigod, tell me more, right? Enter: the Baby Food Diet.

You don't have to chew anything since the blender did that for you. Portion control won't be an issue either since all of the stores carry single-servings with really low calorie counts. And, like, I guess that babies need clean and well-rounded food or something because, like, all of the ingredients are things that you've heard before and are actually good for you. It's like a juice fast, but with a little more substance and a little less lawnmower drippings. But, like, waaay more affordable, so you can use all of the money that you save on some flavored Pedialyte, which is really just like a zero-calorie coconut water.

Plus, thanks to all of the crazy and demanding yoga mommies decked out in Lululemon with their obscenely expensive strollers, Whole Foods has really upped their game in the baby food aisle. There's seriously a flavour for whatever type of mood that you might be in so don't even worry about the lack of variety. It's like chic girl heaven. Make sure you get there early though, so you won't have to fight with the colicky toddler in the Missoni Bugaboo over the last "zucchini banana & amaranth."

Ella's Kitchen and Plum Organics are good for your basic blends of fruits and vegetables, but I swear that the marketing team at Earth's Best was targeting chic/orthorexic adults when naming their product lines. "Antioxidant Blends?" "Super Fruits?" "Gourmet Meals and Seasonal Harvest?" Um, yea, okay. Like 6 month olds care about that kind of shit.

So, apparently, Tracy Anderson (bless her heart) suggests that one should consume 14 jars per day. Um, no. It's not like we're headed into famine or something. A couple of jars or pouches should suffice and, even then, you should be watching your carb intake. That means NO all-fruit blends, you fat fuck. Make sure to pick vegetable-heavy varieties, though those can be sugarific also. I mean, even "spinach + apple + rutabagas" has 8 grams of carbs after adjusting for fibre. Ugh. Who knew that babies were such sugar whores? It's just, like, really unfair for all of the other customers who are trying to watch their figures.

Take a good look at Abbey Lee Kershaw and Hedi Slimane. See their jutting cheekbones and bulging eyeballs? Yours can totally be like that too, so long as you're willing to adhere to the uber cutesy diet that these two effortlessly chic Skeletors have been known to follow.

Now, everyone that knows that digestion isn't very glamorous. The act of mastication is, in itself, so very vulgar, and then that nasty bolus of caloric horror settles into your distended stomach, stirring up a whirlwind of has and discomfort as it waits for hours to be broken down. After that harrowing process, a trillion fat globules get sent directly to your upper arms and inner thighs. And then, well, you know... something really un-chic happens in le toilette.

But what if you could bypass all of that unpleasantry and just follow a really adorable diet that consists of only a few hundred calories a day? And, like, your stomach will stay flat since it's not filled with festering kale and noxious fumes.

The Air Diet

Every wannabe Carrie Bradshaw (or Charlotte York if you're really annoying) yearns to achieve maximal chicness with minimal effort. And nobody can do posh like the French, right? Even their diets ooze superior elegance that we ugly Americans could only aspire to attain.

Like, take the Air Diet, or L'Air Fooding as French Grazia dubbed it. God, even the name is so chic, I DIE. So anyway, you basically pretend to eat whatever the hell you want, without actually allowing it touch your lips. Naysayers and physicians will be like, "Ohmigod, that's called anorexia!", but, um, no. Anorexia is what my roommate, Sydney, has, and she won't even go near food without having a twitching episode. This is, like, a lot healthier psychologically.

I mean, I totally get it. Everyone knows that enjoying food is an experience and this diet allows you to immerse yourself in the whole process until the actual eating part. But you still get to order your meal, pay for it, cut it up, smell the aromas, and Instagram pictures of your drool-worthy plate. You just don't absorb all of the calories and fat associated with ingesting the actual food. It's like you're a chic French diet mime who traded eating for the right to talk. Ooh, maybe you can buy a really cute. A.P.C. striped shirt to go with your performance. So authentic.

It's not like you don't eat at all, either. You still get to binge on all of the la soupe a l'eau (translation: chic soup with an uber pretentious name) that you want. Oh, you want to know what's in it> Um, I had the recipe right here. Hold on. Oh, here it is. Boiled water and sea salt. Hm. But sea salt has, like, a lot of minerals in it, right? How nutritious.

So, yea. It seems like the majority of my friends have been on this diet for a really long time. Like even before that issue came out. What trendsetters. I mean, it's a great way for cutting calories, you know? As a bonus, it's not even restrictive! Like, you can help yourself to all of the fancily named soup and air that you want. And, like, a variety of air at that. Just stroll through the perfume section at Barney's or traipse through Le Labo when you're feeling bored with the plain, bourgeoisie oxygen around you. And if you're feeling especially ravenous (um, binge eating disorder, anyone?) you can practice some yoga breathing. It's like dietary meditation. Kay, now Ocean Breath, everyone.

The Paleo Diet

While cavemen might not have been very fashion-forward, they apparently knew how to be skinny motherfuckers. The Museum of Natural History really needs to slim down the mannequins in the exhibit to reflect this don't you think? So inaccurate. Anyway, this hunter-gatherer-centric diet is very simple in that it has one rule- only eat shit that Betty Flinstone would have prepared.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with history, this means that Kettle Chips and peanut butter are no-goes. Anything processed, such as Lean Cuisines, or foods that require relatively modern technology to produce, such as grains, are not allowed. Neither are dairy products, refined sugars, legumes, potatoes, processed oils or alcohol. Yup, even alcohol. No, they did not have "Stone Age" vodka or sugar-free "Bedrock" Red Bull back then. Yes, I am positive.

Anyway, you're basically allowed to have wild seafood, organic eggs, grass-fed game, vegetables, fruits and some nuts. The idea behind this style of eating is that humans, as a species, have not greatly evolved since the era of our cave dwelling ancestors. That is, our digestive systems are largely genetically similar to those of dinosaurs and are still not fully adapted to the vast changes in diet that have occurred since the dawn of the agricultural age. Simply put, we're not that great at digesting the majority of the shit foods that line supermarket shelves today. Yes, even the shelves at Whole Foods.

By following the palaeolithic diet, however, we would be providing our bodies with ideal foods to which our digestive systems are genetically adapted, When we are better able to process and absorb nutrients from these easily digested foods, we would be more capable of achieving optimal health.

But who really cares about primal strength and surly shit like that? Not me or any of my friends, despite the fact that everyone I know has "gone Paleo." What we love about this diet is the amount of control and restriction that it provides the user. You can basically reject most foods so long as you can come up with some inane reason as to why. "I'm only channeling cavewomen who lived in the Northern Hemisphere, and I don't think those were native to that region," you can say with a dismissive sniff as you swat away a platter of seasonal stone fruit. Um, apricots have a lot of carbs, didn't you know?

Plus, the diet itself is just really trendy. It's like the new Dukan Diet, which was originally the new Atkins, which was basically the new Cabbage Soup Diet. You'll probably be consuming the same meals that you normally are, but can now affix the hip label of "Paleo" to your dietary habits. But don't do that shit where you put goat's milk butter in your coffee or inhale bushels of avocados in one sitting- no=carb calories are still calories, after all.

The Ridiculously Low Carb Diet

In the world of the chic, all of the inhabitants are consumed with keeping their carb intakes as close to zero as humanly possible. Throw any generic food product at a chic girl and she can spit back its estimated carbohydrate content in mere seconds. And, as if she were a neurologist treating childhood epilepsy, she knows the ins and outs of the ketogenic diet like the back of her Rodin Crema slathered hand.

Though she may have no idea what mitosis is, or how photosynthesis works, ant legitimate chic girl could pass a PhD-level Nutrition exam with flying colours. "In order to get into a state of ketosis, you need to deplete the glycogen stores in your liver and muscles before even tapping into your fat energy sources. To do that, you have to keep your net carbohydrate intake below 25 grams a day," she will prattle off expertly, though she may not even have the faintest idea what she is actually talking about.

Basically, she knows that the lower your carbohydrate intake, the more fat you will end up burning. Thus, being the borderline-psychotic overachiever that she is, she will set an upper limit of approximately 5 grams of net carbohydrates per day for herself.

Plus, carbs are totes unnecessary. No one has ever looked cute while gorging on a slice of pizza or inhaling a burrito. But nibbling on a piece of asparagus or noshing on a sliver of pecorino is just adorbs. They're like low glycaemic pieces de resistance that compliment your Zac Posen cocktail dress. Bread used to be the official food of peasants, just so you know.

"I only eat foods that are green or white," were the first words that my soon-to be-future roommate, Lauren, ever muttered to me. No mention of her name, age or hometown- nothing. That's how seriously a true chic girl take her carbohydrate consumption- it defines who she is.

"What do you mean?" I had asked innocently like a clueless martian. Mind you, I still wore leggings and thought Greek Yogurt parfaits were healthy at the time. (I know, I know- don't judge me.)

Lauren, bless her heart, had then taken me under her wing, expertly gu8iding me into my current status of perpetual ketosis. We basically subsist on kale, spinach, avocado, egg whites, cheese, white fish and chicken breasts. And what can I say? I'm obsessed. The far just melted off like butter (which is totally allowed, by the way.) Like, I never want to belong to any other metabolic state of mind. It's just so simple, and everyone's doing it. I mean, just saunter into a Fashion Week after party and it'll reek of Chanel Chance and ketones. So chic.

So you can go the high fat route a la Atkins, or limit your fat consumption in the way of Dukan practitioners. Either way, you'll lose the flab and be super taut. But you can never go wrong with the Green and White Diet, the secret weapon of fashionistas in the know. And, while trends may come and go, there is one combination that will always be in style- ketosis breath and look of death. #Chic

The Strategic Starvation Diet

"You just don't eat for, like 18 hours a day," the chic girl will explain when concerned friends inquire about her new stringent diet du jour. "But you totally get to have balanced meals for the other 6! It was on the news. They tested it on mice and they, like, totally lived longer. Ew."

Intermittent fasting is like a godsend for the chic. Apparently, it's actually really healthy and has a bunch of scientific studies published to back it up. Not that the chic girl will ever read them, of course. But if positive results actually exist, then there's actually something to validate her cray.

I mean, what kind of diet condones extended periods of starvation? It's as if this way of eating was made up specifically with the chic bitches in mind. Not to mention that i's supposedly uber effective! Like, in clinical trials, researchers found that overweight participants how utilized intermittent fasting lost way more fat than those who ate the same meals spread throughout the day. I knew that whole "6 mini meals a day" adage was total bullshit!

Of course, the chic girl is just an extreme case of human, so she'll narrow her eating window to 2 hours or so. Some deranged bitches may even aim for 20 minutes! Talk about efficiency.

There's an even wackier version of this method that's been named the "Bulletproof Diet," whatever that means. Basically, you drink black coffee with butter or coconut oil stirred in so that you don't get hungry while in your fasted state. Um, that sounds like a lot of unnecessary calories. And chic girls don't get plagued with hunger- we like to refer to it as "getting of track.: Lile, seriously? Drinking butter> That's not even real fasting. People have no willpower nowadays.

Supporters of this way of eating suggest that people snack on healthy foods during their feeding periods, like bananas and apples. Um, bananas are super starchy. And apples? Did you know that apples don't actually have much nutritional value> The only real benefit that comes form apples is from pectin, which will help to regulate digestion. but since chic girls already consume astronomical amounts of fibre, they won't be receiving many benefits from munching on apples. They can totally get their Vitamin C from elsewhere. Ohmigod, you're learning, like, so much from me. This might as well be a textbook!

I suggest that you nibble on a piece of cheese or some veggies during your allotted eating time. That way, you can totally maximize ketosis and burn as much fat as fucking possible. I mean, Emily Blunt's character in The Devil Wears Prada totally knew what she was doing. She was just way ahead of her time. Like, don't you want to be one stomach fu away from sample size too?

The Raw Food Diet

This one's for the extremists, of which there are many in the upper echelons of the chic. Basically, you stick to a diet of uncooked veggies all day long, with the occasional piece of fruit thrown in. As expected, these bitches are skinny as fuck and look great in just about anything. They also absorb, like, maximal nutrients and have beautiful skin and hair. Plus, they get to lecture and judge others all day long about the importance of enzymes and whatnot. These skinny twigs can also consume bushels of allowed foods and still keep their daily calorie counts in the hundreds. Totes ideal, if you can stomach it, I mean. But have you ever tried raw broccoli or mushrooms? Ew.

If you've lost all sensory input from your taste buds, as can happen when on frightening amount of amphetamines, this is the perfect lifestyle for you. You can be like a super svelte panda bear and nosh on stalks of celery or fistfuls of curly kale all day. You'll lose heaps of weight and will have a spotless digestive tract, I'm sure. Just be proactive about taking, like, 15 Beano with each meal. Gas isn't cute, even if it's being caused by adorable produce like grape tomatoes and baby carrots.

Some people will get all technical and allow themselves to have sashimi, but staunch raw foodists will shake their heads at this practice. I don't see what's wrong with it, especially since sushi is, like, so yum. Anyway, soaked nuts and sprouted seeds are allowed, but make sure to watch how much you eat. They're still packed with calories and, this, aren't totally conducive to rapid fat obliteration.

People on the raw food diet love to chirp about mental clarity and feelings of euphoria, but I think that they're just really happy because they can slip into Gareth Pugh leather leggings without putting up a struggle. I highly doubt that weeping into bowls of raw radicchio and consuming bland vegetables dressed in the salt of my tears would make me feel vibrant and more alive. I mean, I would be completely ecstatic about sticking to a strict diet of copper pennies and shards of glass if it, too, left me with a 3-inch thigh cap. But to each her own, I suppose.

It's also well known that a lot of working models are technically raw foodies since they basically just consume cauliflower smoothies and piles of wilted spinach. No wonder they always look so sad. But have you seen their hip bones? Um, yea.

So I totally just ordered a raw organic vegan Kale Dulse Salad and a cold-pressed coffee from Seamless. They better fucking hurry before all the nutrients break down. Ooh, do you think calories can break down over time too? Let's hope so. Enzymes, here I come!

The One Food Diet

Basically, anyone who lacks even a smidgen of self-control should consider this dietary tactic. It allows no leeway for excuses or exceptions so long as you follow just one simple rule: consume only one type of food.

When you define vague dietary rules, such as allowing low-carb or liquid items, you'll find that the hungry fatass within will convince herself that certain foods fit the guidelines. I mean, butterscotch pot de creme is technically liquid, right? And an entire stick of butter covered in guacamole is totes low-carb. Inhaling, like, three bowls of blood orange sorbet doesn't constitute cheating on a raw food diet, either...

Stop. Just stop. You obvi have issues with following rules, oh voracious one. Technicalities are just fancy excuses for the dietarily inept, and one shouldn't be allowed to make risky, body composition-altering decisions when starving and delirious. So do as the OCD-inflicted waifs do and pick one food with which to thoroughly familiarize yourself to the point of disgust for the next two weeks.

You won't have to waste time obsessing over meal planning or calculating nutritional contents. It's basically like putting your diet on auto-pilot ass you graze on your one allowed food in a fat-shedding haze. Honestly, yo can pick whatever you want, since you'll likely get sick of it as time goes on. Like, did you know that Uma Thurman once went on an ice cream diet? She lost 25 pounds over a six-week period. On ice cream. ON ICE CREAM.

Now, I don't suggest that you pick the congealed, sweetened mucus of dairy cows as your food of choice, as that' s just, like, not really a good starting point. Pick something like tomatoes, or green apples, or avocados, Bananas and grapes work also, but do keep in mind that they are quite high in sugar. My personal choices are either eggs or grapefruit with Splenda. Whatever you choose, make sure to stick with it. That's all there is to it.

Some proponents believe that partaking in the consumption of only one type of food allows your body to become more efficient at digesting and metabolizing it, but I'm not sure. I mean, I guess it makes sense. But who really gives a fuck about all of that health-boosting mumbo jumbo? The real reason that this diet is so attractive and effective is because it helps to teach you a lesson in discipline and restraint. By sticking to this diet for just a short while, you'll see that you're more than capable of controlling yourself when it comes to impulsive food-related decisions.

It's like dietary therapy, but without having to visit an overpriced psychiatrist who just nods along and asks you obvious questions about how you feel about that time you ate a lobster roll. Um, I feel like shit, okay? You didn't need to remind me. That's why I'm allowing myself zucchini slices for the next month, duh.

The Two Cup Diet

Did you know that your stomach is only the size of your fist? So why are you stuffing it until you can't breathe? Um, I don't care if you're a firm believer in Volumetrics- that method only works if you're feasting on organic iceberg lettuce and sparkling water.

Now, getting a bariatric surgery done costs roughly $30,000. Trust me, I went to go get an estimate. The doctor was actually really rude and scoffed at me during the consultation, which I really took offense to. He was all, "Um, you know that this is for, like, clinically obese people, right?" So I was like, "Er, yea. It's called preventative medicine, natch." And then he, like, totally rolled his eyes at me and said in a condescending tone, "You obvi don't qualify for the procedure, especially since your BMI totes falls into the underweight category. Sorrz." I'm not an expert in medical law or anything, but I think that's called discrimination. Horrible bedside manner, not to mention illegal, no? I really need to call my dad's attorney about this.

Anyway, my friend, Melissa, found a totally cheap alternative to getting your stomach stapled until it's the size of a walnut. She learned it from a group of 14 year old Latvian models that she shared a room with during Milan Fashion Week. You basically take two tiny Dixie cups and fill them with whatever food you might please, though preferably of the low-calorie, low-carb and low-fat variety. Then you can enjoy your mini feast without worrying about portion control. It takes the stomach roughly four hours to empty, so you can set an alarm on your iPhone for four hour intervals to remind you of when you're allowed to have another two cups. Um, genius, right? And who said that teenaged models needed to stay in school to have good heads on their shoulders?

Don't abuse this system by using the red plastic cups of beer pong infamy, though. You're not an obese retired frat boy living it up in Murray Hill. By Dixie cups, I'm referring to the uber cutesy 3 oz. waxed paper ones that are meant for gargling in the bathroom. If you want to take it to the next level, you can also use tiny utensils, like oyster forks, to slow down your consumption and increase satiety. There w as this one girl that I interned with who carried around a tiny Tiffany & Co. silver baby spoon with her everywhere. Totally crazy, yet totally chic. Did I mention that she weighed, like, 85 pounds?

So who cares if you look like an unhinged betch for scarfing down tiny bites of wild mushroom fricassee from a mouthwash-delivery vessel using a toddler's fork? You'll be laughing all the way past the antiseptic-scented waiting room of a really rude weight loss surgeon's shabbily decorated Upper East Side clinic while your critics slowly begin to qualify for Lap-band installation. Um, who said that preventative medicine had to cost a year's worth of college tu8ition? People with no self-control, obvi.

The HCG Diet

Only a batshit cray person would willingly stab herself repeatedly while wincing and bellowing in pain, right? Um, yes, but that mentally unstable waif wielding the 25 gauge needle sure is tiny. Enter the HCG Diet, a regimen in which one is required to inject oneself with a variety of vitamins and hormones while subsisting on a maximum of 500 calories per day. HCG, or Human Chorionic Gonadotrophin, is basically a hormone produced by pregnant women soo after conception for... I don't know. The guy who came up with the idea to implement it in a weight loss regimen said that it suppresses your appetite and helps with fat loss, or whatever. Anyway its use as a weight loss agent is, like, really frowned upon by the FDA, which everyone knows must mean that it totally works. Like, remember ephedra? And phentermine? Uh, yea.

It's really easy. You basically follow an ultra low-calorie, low-carbohydrate, low fat, high-protein diet (uh, don't we regardless?) and give yourself daily injections of Vitamin B-12 and HCG in your hips and thighs, respectively. A physician or medical professional has to hand then over, so expect to pay a pretty penny (or 60 thousand) for a three-week program. If you're feeling super ambitious, you can also drag the whole thing our for six weeks!

Everyone will be like, "Er, of course you're losing weight. You're only eating 500 calories each day!" Ohmigod, really? Thanks for the news flash. I totally didn't know that. Um, of course anyone will lose weight on a 500-calorie diet, you observant twats. But who (other than an anorexic ballerina) actually has the discipline to stick to those numbers? Uh, a really chic girl who just blew one week's pay on dietary heroin, that's who.

So even if HCG isn't actually clinically proven to assist with fat loss or appetite suppression, who really cares? Even if you had spent hundreds of dollars on sterile syringes filled with Flinstones vitamins diluted in Diet Sprite, you would still have an obligation to stick to the accompanying regimen. I';s called financial responsibility, people!

But, oh Chic One, how come we can't just use the homeopathic drops that they sell on Amazon? I don't want to hurt myself, you say. I really don't like needles, you cry out. Um, in case you haven't been paying attention, there's a concept called "No Pain, A Lotta Gain." And it's just, like, totes legit? I mean, just because you rub to botulism toxin all over your skin doesn't mean that you're going to do skit about your crow's feet or laugh lines. You're just going to have a really dirty face. But inject some Botox all up in those crevices? Um, hello Bruce Jenner!

Besides, didn't you know that "homeopathic" is just Latin for "faker than a Canal Street Kurakami Multicolore Monogram Speedy 25?" Ew.

The Cabbage Soup Diet

"I lost, like, 10 pounds in 3 days," the chic girl will announce with widened eyes to all of her entranced comrades. "I didn't even know that I had that much to lose!"

Going on the cabbage soup diet is akin to complaining about having to fly home for the holidays or binge drinking over Memorial Day Weekend- it's just ingrained in American culture. Eating disordered betches of yore have passed this timeless diet on from generation to generation and, as unglamorous as it may be, it still prevails as a magic bullet of sorts to this day. So when you need to get skinny stat, show a little patriotic spirit and boil up a giant vat of cabbage and under-seasoned water. Your tummy won't thank you, but your thigh gap sure will.

You can binge if you'd like, but I'm sure you won't want to. The soup isn't particularly enthralling to the taste buds, but the parboiled vegetables will help to satisfy the vacuous pit that is your empty stomach. And, even if you stuff yourself senseless with the tasteless broth, you'll still probably only consume a couple of hundred calories a day. Just don't try to stand up too quickly, or you might just faint from chic overload!

Some variations of the diet allow other foods, such as bananas and meat, but you really shouldn't stray from tradition. Like, what would your ancestors say? They would likely shake their pin curls in disappointment.

The basic recipe calls for cabbage (duh), celery, mushrooms, tomatoes, peppers, onions, carrots, pre-made bullion cubes and your seasonings of choice. Sounds super yum, right? Um, this is when you're supposed to nod and be like, "Ohmigod, delish."

Anyway, I wouldn't bother adding onions or carrots since they're uber starchy. I just don't want you to get kicked out of ketosis, you know? Come to think of it, throw those tomatoes out too. That bouillon just seems totes unnecessary also. Okay, so our soup will basically consist of mineral water and cabbage, I suppose. But now we're, like, totally doing the One Food Diet, too. And Paleo! And, like, this is uber vegan-friendly. Gawd, talk about multi-tasking.

The "I can't see it!" Diet

If you're a fixture on the fashion industry's party circuit, you are well aware of the au courant set's penchant for microscopic portions of distinguishingly decadent food, I mean, what exactly is the purpose of serving miniature cupcakes? Is this a test? Like, what's with the tiny sandwiches and cheeseburgers? Is the bread just there to keep your fingers clean? And someone please explain to me the obsession with canapes and fried puffs. All I see are fat and carbs sharing real estate on a tray smothered in grease and shame. It's actually really confusing yet insulting yet intriguing yet tempting yet cute yet revolting, all at the same time.

Am I supposed to eat it? I think I am. I mean, these kind caterers have already done all of the hard work and cut everything into tiny, guilt-free smidgens. And how terrible could everything be when the portion sizes are so adorable? That grilled truffle oil-infused gruyere sandwich can't be so bad for me, right? It's only, like, half the size of my Amex card. And that microscopic scone? It's the size of a quarter! Having one doesn't make me irresponsible.

Wait a minute. Ohmigod, are people watching? Do I look poor and desperate? How come no one else is eating? Should I not be eating either? I think I just saw that blogger pop a tiny piece of fried macaroni and cheese into his mouth. Or did he? I repeat, is this a test?

There is a reason that all of the offering at such glamorous parties are bite-sized enigmas of congealed cheese and bacon grease. They're your cheat treats! Enjoying a few tiny morsels of forbidden food is totes acceptable, so long as you don't carry around a plate laden with them. As a reward for all of the other 364 days a year that you deny yourself of such scrumptious evils, you are allowed this one window of glorious opportunity to indulge in two or, daresay, three pieces of wanton abandon.

Oh, but the fashion crowd is a clever one. While each itty-bitty hors d'ouevre might seem relatively innocuous, it is still a miniature recreation of something that you would never be caught dead eating in front of Anna Wintour. Thus, you must wolf it down as surreptitiously as possible while still keeping your composure. And in that is where the genius lies.

After committing such a deplorable act as inhaling a mini brownie in three seconds flat while crouched down behind a crowd of fashion photographers, you are overcome with remorse and shame. What has come of you? Have you no self-control? It wasn't even worth it! That's it- no more food for the rest of the night! Then you will ration out a mini green juice for the rest of the evening in hopes that it will at least help to dilute your transgressions.

Do you see what just happened? You got your junk food fix, yet your calorie count for the day will be kept low by the guilt that overwhelms you. If you're lucky, the remorse will spill over into the next day. Maybe even the rest pf the week! D you know what just happened? It's called psychology.

The I'm-fucking-rich-and-glamourous Diet

For the impossibly chic girl, it's raining oysters, sashimi and tartare every night, with a guarantee of accompanying champagne showers. She loves to order seafood towers for the table and is obsessed with rhubarb mignonette. "I'm basically on a raw food diet, as you know," she will explain to her friends as she persuades them into doing a $300 caviar tasting. "Just a really fancy one."

Or is black & blue filet mignon considered raw? Whatever. The chic girl loves her steak, especially if it's of the Kobe Wagyu variety. She'll do lobster or butterfish or even sea bream, but forgoes salmon because it's "so 2011." "I only do lox when I have Eggs Norwegian at Balthazar," she will say with a sniff as she pursues limited menus with disdain. "And I'm talking about Paris Balthazar, not the one on Spring."

She is like a culinary hipster in the sense that she basically shuns anything that wouldn't be available to the general public at Food Emporium. Um, farro risotto? With fucking kale? You better back away slowly before she scratches your face in frustration. How dare you offer her that. She doesn't do proletarian foods; didn't you know?

Basically, she will turn up her perfectly rhinoplasty job at the foods of mere mortals, rolling her eyes if someone suggests going out for pizza and snarling in disgust at the mention of gourmet burgers. "I tried a cheeseburger for the first time whilst on holiday in London last year," she will say as she lets out a harrowing sigh. "It was the worst experience of my entire life."

"Cava is not champagne!" she will vehemently cry out, snatching the menu away from the basic bitch who had the audacity to suggest it in her presence. "And oysters from New Jersey? Get the fuck out of my face."

This emaciated diva loves herself a good tasting menu, even if it consists of, like, 18 courses. But haven't you noticed how all of the nicer restaurants, like Per Se and Daniel, are basically just never-ending parades of microscopic low-carb morsels? Obvi the people in the kitchen get the picture! And as for dessert, this lavish betch never partakes- she's just so full, you know?

So be it foie grais brulee, organic rabbit rillettes or diver scallop carpaccio, this extravagant girl knows how to execute the zero-carb diet in style. And while other chic ladies around town may have to sacrifice pricey food in favour of fashion, this is never an issue for this rich bitch (or, perhaps, her sugar daddy). For the girl on the FRaG Diet, compromise is never an option.

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

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Memories Long Since Past

Relationship: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 2,043

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: The first time that Bucky is invited to celebrate Thanksgiving with his new doll and Sam’s family, it seems to be going well. That is, until the noise associated with large gatherings like this start.

Consider Donating: Here

Getting the invitation from Sam, or rather his sister, was a wholly unexpected experience that he could not figure out how to navigate. This was Sam’s family. This went further than two guys, or even two guys who worked together. This teetered into friend territory. Bucky did not know how to feel about that information swimming in his brain.

But when his beloved doll, his darling girl, and the light at the end of the dark tunnel opened an envelope addressed to “The Barnes”, he knew that there was no getting out of going to whatever it was. Besides, he may have been partial when they called her a Barnes; it just had such a nice ring to it. The fact that they sent an actual physical copy of the invitation to them was really a sweet touch.

He may not have been as technologically challenged as Steve, but he was not a pro at it either. It took fifteen minutes just to explain the concept of Facebook friends, and friend requests to him. Still, there was something comforting in receiving a paper invite, even for those more tech savvy.

The Wilson’s were hosting their annual Thanksgiving party at their beautiful home, and wanted the couple to make an appearance. Of course, she had jumped at the opportunity to go enjoy a party, and it did not matter that they were on nearly the opposite side of the country vertically from Delacroix, Louisiana. It probably did not help that she had yet to meet anyone from Bucky’s superhero team, which meant that she was extra excited to hear those stories told from another perspective.

Flying down was not a problem. James was still a good flyer after all these years. He did have to distract his doll a bit when they hit some turbulence, but it ended up being just fine. Once they landed in Louisiana, the warm humid air hit them like a truck. It was such a stark contrast to the frigid New York apartment that they had left at the beginning of the day.

They caught a taxi to their hotel where they got to enjoy a moment of peace before having to get ready to meet Sam and Sarah for dinner. Bucky let her take the shower first while he unpacked his suitcase on the bed that they would be sharing for the next five days. As he was putting his shirts away in a drawer with his pants, a loud bang thudded through the room. On nothing else other than muscle memory, James dropped and rolled, ready to aim and fire at the threat.

But there was no threat. There was no gun, or knife to aim. His girlfriend shouted over the sound of the water to put him at ease, but he knew better. There was still some of that training left in him that he would never get rid of. It was ingrained down to the bones. Rising, Bucky confirmed that noise was her.

“Yeah. Sorry beau! I dropped my body wash in the tub.” He let out a sigh of relief. They were safe. He was not in any danger. His girl was okay. Everything was fine.

He tried to go back to putting away his clothing, but his body ran on autopilot through the ordeal. Bucky’s brain started to panic. He was trying to tell himself the same thing he had been repeating for years now; I am no longer the Winter Soldier.

“Alrighty, all your’s baby.” Bucky grabbed the first pieces of clothing he could find and ran inside the bathroom. He did not catch the confused look that she shot him on his way in, nor the ask if he was alright.

Warm water cascaded over him and he let himself get lost in the sensation. Bucky tried to ease his mind from the instance that just occurred. It had been so long that he had a flashback like that. Sorry, episode. His therapist wants him to call the episodes. Now, James was starting to doubt whether or not that he should be going to the function tomorrow.

Stepping out, Bucky made sure to throughly dry himself, and he took extra care on his metal arm. He really did not need that thing to rust or short circuit. Although he was unsure if vibranium could rust. That would probably be a good thing to find out. Dressed in a comfy Henley, and a nice set of jeans, James made his way out to do his hair in the mirror.

From his spot at the sink, he could see his girlfriend doing her makeup on their bed. She had her light set up so that it was grunted to turn out well, and all of her products spread out on the towel n from of her. Her dress for that evening hung still, but that was alright by him. Once Bucky had finished making himself pretty, he went over to his lady, but made sure not to mess her up.

One of the things that he loved about her was the way she presented herself. She dressed like the 40’s that he had left behind. It was, in all honesty, a breath of fresh air from the culture and fashion of the modern day. Most of the time, she dressed in jeans or slacks, resembling more of a pin up girl, which was definitely okay in Bucky’s book. Yet, occasionally, she allowed herself a dress to wear out.

The way she applied her makeup was so masterful to James. He knew he had seen his sister and mother apply their own back in the day, but it was so different now. There was no rationing that limited products and ingredients. Everything was at your fingertips now.

Before he realized it, she was ready for her lipstick. Brilliant, victory red was swiped over her beautiful lips in the mirror. Bucky never understood why his sister and mother took so much time with their makeup, or why it even took so long; that was, until, he started dating his own doll. Now, he finally understood the artistry in the process. It was so relaxing for him to watch her do the routine that she knew so well with practiced ease.

“Ready?”

Bucky was snapped out his thoughts by his lover now standing in from of him in her dress. A flowing thing covered in white polka dots that broke up the navy blue background. The cardigan around her shoulders complemented the white accents in the dress nicely. He placed his haps on her hips, and drew her closer. His legs opened a bit wider to accommodate the new person. Letting his eyes trail over her figure and up to her face, he tried to smile reassuringly at her.

“Let’s go.”

Thank whatever divine being was out there that he had someone who was used to modern technology. If it had been up to him, Bucky would have figured out where this restaurant was on a paper map and use directions like that. However, his lady showed him how to take a texted address and paste it into the GPS system in his phone. When they were finally on their way, she gave him a kiss and teased him for being an old man.

Dinner with Sam and Sarah had been, so far, so good. James was a little nervous introducing them to her given that he was private by nature. However, once everyone had broken the ice, they were talking with each other like decades long friends. Bucky took a sip of the beer he was nursing and smiled as his girl and Sarah were laughing over a story together.

“Honestly, I am so excited for y’all to come over tomorrow. The whole family is gonna be over, as well as our other friends. It’s gonna be a great time.” Sarah gushed, taking another drink of her wine on the table.

“How many people are going to be there?” His girlfriend asked while mirroring her actions.

“Oh, maybe fifteen- twenty. Shouldn’t be too many people over.”

While everyone was a-okay with the number of people, Bucky was less confident. Had that episode not happened earlier, he would probably be fine. Yet, it did happen, and he was now panicking a bit on the inside. But his lady was going to be there. Everyone would be okay. Right?

Wrong. He should never have come to this event. James kept his back to a wall the entire time, and could not stop scanning the room. Everyone was so nice to him. Whether that was better or worse was up for debate.

The noises kept piling on. He could hear every conversation. Every sip of every beverage. Every chew. And he could have probably held it together had it not been for the children of the friends of the Wilson’s. To be perfectly frank, they were just being kids. Just like how Bucky and Steve had been once upon a time. But he was already on edge.

Boys being boys. That was all that happened. However, the sound of the crash they induced sent James over that very fine line he was teetering on. He set his beer down and made his way to the back door as quickly as possible, without alerting anyone. Or so he thought.

His girlfriend noticed that he had made a sharp exit from the party. She excused herself from the table she sat at with Sarah and one of her childhood friends. Making her way outside, she shut the door before turning to her boyfriend. Bucky’s head was in between his hands, with his elbows on his knees. He sat on the edge of the concrete in the back before it disappeared into lush grass.

She sat next to him and waited. Waited for him to tell her he was okay. Or for a sign that she could touch him. Without saying a word, he reached over and put her hand on his head. Scooting closer, her hand began rubbing comforting circles into his scalp while the other rested on his metallic forearm.

“I’m sorry,” came a murmur from his lips. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey, hey, no. There is nothing wrong with you. Talk to me, Buck. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

There was no talking for a while from either one of them. Bucky was trying to find the strength to speak, and she was making sure she was not pushing him to do anything that he did not want to do.

“Have I ever told you about the time that Steve came over for Thanksgiving the year his parents died? When he tried to help make something for dinner?” There was a distant look in Bucky’s eyes now, but it was better than torment.

“No. What happened?”

“Okay, so,” and with that he launched into the story of how Steve had to be taught how to properly peel a potato and almost sliced his finger off from the experience. The entire time Bucky was adding in little details, sound effects, and other people’s thoughts… probably. It had his doll in stitches by the time he was done telling the tale. Her army green dress felt so soft underneath his fingertips as he leaned over to stabilize himself from falling over with laughter.

Once they were done laughing for the most part, she looked into his beautiful blue eyes with such a kind expression.

“Do you wanna talk about what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?” She offered softly, trailing a hand across his stubbly cheek.

“Maybe later. Right now, I just want to sit here with you.”

Bucky reached across and picked his girlfriend up, only to set her back down in his lap. Silence stretched to encompass the couple as well as a cool breeze. He buried his face into her neck, taking a deep breath of her perfume while he was at it. She provided so much warmth and stability to him.

James was not one hundred percent okay. He was not fully himself again. But the more moments like this he took, the more he felt like it.

#rebelliousstories #writing #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #james barnes #james barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #thanksgiving #thanksgiving imagine #thanksgiving 2024

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moonokgyeong · 3 days ago

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i totally agree!! jooran plays a very important role in the drama character if one will look closely. like, the plot won't be complete without her. i mean (aside from the fact that jooran was her very first friend and has shown a great concern for our protagonist) first, jeongnyeon getting kicked out of maeran because she sang at a café which is against the rules. and it wouldn't be happen in the first place if jooran's arm wasn't injured. and then, jeongnyeon getting out of character as a soldier because she was threatened from jooran's budding friendship with yeongseo and wants to get attention (and maybe acknowledgement that she's a better actor and jooran's commendation would've been enough). and on that case, jeongnyeon felt guilty and felt very bad that she thought to try practicing different characters wherein jooran came to practice with her as them being gomigeol and precious, to where for the first time jooran's heart goes *dugeun dugeun* because of jeongnyeon's (provocative) portrayal of gomigeol. and then because of that jooran got scared of what she had felt during that practice that she made an excuse, lying, to jeongnyeon that she doesn't want to be partnered up with her because of the reasons that got jeongnyeon broken. and even if jooran wasn't the main reason as to why jeongnyeon damaged her own voice (and the reason being that she wants to get out of her mother's shadow), jooran's still a part of the reason why jeongnyeon wants to be the best. and at the ending, jooran was also part of jeongnyeon's success being asadal and getting the role of the new prince of maeran. first, jooran has become jeongnyeon's strength when she sang in public, earning her solid position in maeran. and secondly because just like asadal, jeongnyeon also lost the girl she loves (jooran). and because of that jeongnyeon had understood asadal's character in a deep level.

and it would be really nice if they had put more episodes. idk what's with the kdramas nowadays that they compress it to just 12 to 16 episodes when kdramas before have episodes up to 20 and more. if only jeongnyeon had 20 episodes, i guess the story will be richer. i mean it's already rich, but we will get to know the characters more and their background and see more of the society they're living in being women (whether gay or straight) in that era. and there's hyerang having a child. i want to know more about it.

but all in all i am happy that a drama like jeongnyeon was produced and aired. thanks disney for taking a risk on that drama. i have so much love for that series. and i'm so so so happy that jeongnyeon's team were brave for sticking it as f/f (even if the kisses in the original script didn't make it to the cut. idk who to blame for it).but even without the kiss taeri and davi were successful in delivering jeongnyeon and jooran's deep love for each other (that my mom who had only watched m/f series always commented that jeongran were like lovers even before jooran's gay awakening)

taeri and davi indeed has great chemistry ✨ (i honestly want to watch more wlw as them being the love interest)

Well said! 👏

#sorry for the long rant #but thank you to whoever is going to use their time reading it #thank you op for sharing this #jeongnyeon the star is born #reblog #barbequeue

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beans-and-shet · 1 year ago

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The war within

#tokyo mew mew #masaya aoyama #tmm deep blue #i am so not ready for season 2 to end #wanted to get this up before the episode aired #hoping We get at least one unhinged deep blue expression tomorrow #i originally had deep blue making a crazy smile in this pic but after season 2 ep 11 I switched it to a frown #Thought it suited his personality better based on what we’ve seen #my dumb art

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sparring-spirals · 7 months ago

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I got to say I really liked the episode (despite only having watched exu calamity of the exu series) and I think maybe Matt needed a breather after so many fast paced, lore filled episodes.

however, I am kinda bummed that the fcg processing has been put on hold for (at least) two weeks now and that means that, despite them being great actors that truly merge with their characters at the table, their reactions will be much less raw and there’s a chance some of them will forget tidbits of information, emotions they felt when it happened because they (as role players) will have had time to process it out of the game and it might create a dissonance in the game. tbf I kind of felt the difference even between the end of ep 91 and the beginning of 92 but it made sense because technically they were still running and couldn’t afford to process. idk. I have hope that we’ll still see that raw emotion, but I fear it won’t be as impactful as it could’ve been, especially if they’ll have to put the “reporting for duty” hat on immediately when they get to the camp

I think being a little bummed about the sort of unexpected hiatus on the Bell's Hells/Post F.C.G processing is super understandable! As someone who also really did enjoy the Crownskeepers return (hello im still yelling about Opal internally), I'm kind of in the same camp of being kind of thrown/disappointed about not getting to really dig into/sit with the Bell's Hells post-F.C.G loss. Like, LOVED the Crownkeepers, fascinating second half, kind of meh on the specific timing.

I'm holding my reservations about whether they're going to have to keep running/moving once we return to their portion of the story, since hey, until it happens (or doesn't!), we don't know, so I don't feel like getting too in my head about it until then.

That said! I do think that in general the cast puts characterization and staying true to the emotions of the character/story as a very high priority within the campaign. I think you're right that it won't be the exact same as if they had done a big emotional blowup/goodbye/processing scene in the same ep where they lost F.C.G, or immediately after. I don't think that means it has to be less impactful, just that- yeah, they'll have had more time to actually think/process it.

But they're also all professional voice actors who have, IMO, thus far shown how much they think about the inner lives of their characters and enjoy really digging deep into the emotional/interpersonal aspects of roleplay.

My assumption (my hope?) is that with additional time to think about + process a devastating/deeply emotional loss for their character(s), they'd choose to lean into that more, and not less. It wont be the same as the immediate raw reactions, thats true! But i dont think that means it has to be less impactful, even if they (as people) have had more time to process, and will be choosing how their characters, fresh off the loss, react. I dont think thats a guarantee it will be less impactful/emotional (maybe the additional thinking would actually enhance the reactions being true/insightful to the characters vs gut reactions from cast), but it will be different.

But if the cast chooses to lean into the heartbreak/emotions, and the circumstances of the BH in the upcoming ep enable it, I'm sure they can still kick my ass (emotionally), timeskip or not.

In general, I'm cautiously optimistic about what could happen next! Even if I don't love the timing thus far. I think there's still plenty of ways for me to get what I'm hoping for wrt F.C.G/BH. :] There are plenty of ways for me to get let down too, probably, but until it happens, or doesn't, I'm opting to not get too doomery about it. We'll see.

I uh. Hope that helps? A bit? Being bummed about specific things you were hoping for being off the table is totally reasonable. just hoping to lend an alternate way of viewing it, if desired.

(i wrote the sentence: "don't be lamenting your chickens before they hatch" and then went "what the fuck" out loud. i spent 4 hours at work today just doing systems diagramming and my brain is fried. clearly. keeping this here for my own entertainment.)

#im kind of tired im sorry if this makes no sense lmao. i appreciate the ask! sorry if my answer comes off as flippant. i do get where you're #coming from and wanted to share how im personally choosing to approsch it haha #critical role #cr spoilers #c3e92 #bell's hells #spar speaks #ask away!#speculation #fcg #imo its like how we probably wont be getting situations like marisha shellshocked live tweeting after jester saved beau with a cupcake #but we get the cast doing sneaky little tweets before the episode airs but after theyve already experienced it #different for sure. doesnt have to be worse. thats more up to personal opinion i think #i fully wrote that chicken thing and went. thats the idiom right. and then stared at it and went. ... no. its not.#should i have waited to answer this ask? maybe. but oh well.#i should probably get some sleep though

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mathsbian · 2 years ago

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@renthony

you know what, i am right and im tired of pretending i am not

#i literally only just recently binged SU #and it was because the fandom was so toxic back when it was on the air that I avoided getting into the show #I didn’t have irl friends to watch it with and I didn’t want to watch it and not be able to engage with the fandom #so I didn’t watch it til my new roommate suggested we all watch it a few months ago #we’ve finished the show and the movie and just have the Future episodes left #every criticism I remember people having about the show? gets addressed in the show!#steven has a crisis when he finds out his mom might have shattered someone and it gets brought back up multiple times #and every time steven’s entire point is shattering someone is never okay! why would he shatter the diamonds when he was losing his shit #over the thought that his mom might have shattered one herself before #no one hates AtLA for not having Aang kill Ozai #and Ozai was shown doing a lot worse shit #White brainwashes some people for a few minutes on screen #Ozai starts setting the whole world on fire #fuck the fandom for making me avoid this show for so long it’s so good #steven universe

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sttoru · 22 days ago

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⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x female reader #toji x female reader

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