#whatever whateeeever

[toelessbastard]

I love SJ like any other cunt but every time they woob him i feel .y heart slamming into several walls. Thats not him !!!!! Thats not my wet cat!!!!!!! You primed him into a showdog for sport !!!!!!!!!!

[ghostmaldo]

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧♡*.✧ Special day ✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧♡*.✧

With Bungou men x GN!Reader

Rather your reading this on Valentine’s Day or any day you need a pick me up. Here is something for you. Just some general headcannons on what I think the Bungou characters would do do make a day special for their S/O

Characters might be a little OOC to make the HC fluffier.

No warnings, pure fluff. Established relationships with S/O

Ask box 💙: Open

No music this time… I was listening to muuuurdeeer this time around ^^’

⤜♡→Dazai ⤜♡→

~Most definitely annoying you right at the ass crack of dawn with warm/cold beverage and slightly burned of whatever S/O favorite food is. Though will deny any involvement of the holiday or if S/O insists his trying to make a day seem special. “I’m just trying to spoil my favorite person!” Yay okay Dazai, whateeeever you say. But hey, he tried at the very least. All morning his dropping the cheesiest and romantic poems out of the book. They probably make S/O laugh more then anything but its still a thoughtful gesture.

~The cheese factor doesn’t decrease at the ADA (much to Kunikida’s dismay). Expect to be peeked along the lips and cheeks a lot more then any other day of the week.

~I can honestly see him making crafts at his desk instead of doing paper work. Makes a little heart cut out for all of his co workers O3O. Still in denial >.>

~After work, it’s straight to S/O favorite restaurant for dinner. What? His being spontaneous! It’s been a long week, time to unwind S/O! He gueeeessses he’ll get the bill this time, but dont get use to it!

~Overall its a mostly nice and peaceful evening. Dazai and S/O are having a lovely chat about the day. They may catch a loving glance every once in awhile in Dazai’s eyes. It’s enough to make him smirk and make his S/O melt in his seat.

~Wrapping up the evening is a nice bubble bath and following is a movie night wrapped up in each other and their favorite blankets.

⤜♡→ Ranpo ⤜♡→

~Forget the ADA, him and S/O are going to all the sweets shops in town!

~Indulge with him a little in feeding each others different types of cakes and candy. Will swipe his thumb under S/O lips to remove any whip cream before putting it in his own mouth to taste.

~Que the blush

~While some how getting lost in the city. Ranpo finds a spot to get milkshakes and Boba

Does the ADA offer Dental insurance?

~ While S/O is distracted by yummy drinks, this is the time he’ll give them the most vibrant flowers they’ve ever seen. “Where were you keeping those?” “Ssshhhh, just take them!” He asked Poe to keep them fresh for him

~After dropping off the flowers in some water at home. Ranpo has one more place to drag you off to! With a few missed turns and detours of course ^^’.

~S/O might be a little surprised when he leads them to the beach, where a blanket is laid out in the sand (Though its a little blown away, nothing a quick tug at the corners won’t fix.) Regardless, as long as his S/O his happy, it was well worth it in the end. They sit listening to the crashing waves, huddle close to each other. Laughing and snacking on candy as if nothing else matter in the world.

~Sneaks a loving kiss mid sentence to seal the deal.

~”Now what were you saying darling?”

⤜♡→ Kunikida ⤜♡→

~Shows up on S/O doorstep with either their favorite flowers and or chocolate, accompanied by a small but flattering piece of jewelry. He can’t help the blush on his cheeks when his S/O hugs him in appreciation. Also expect a long sweet kiss before arriving at the ADA for the day. Once he walks through those doors its strictly buisness. But thats okay. S/O understands.

~Thhhouuugh if you show off his little gift to the other ADA members he will become flustered, while also swelling with some pride on the inside.

Dazai: Wow Kunikida, so you do have some taste~

Kunikida: WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN

~After the work day is finished. Kunikida hands S/O a bag with a simple but elegant outfit for them to change into. Surprise! He has dinner reservations at S/O favorite restaurant. His also wearing something pleasing to look at ^^

~Pleasent evening with shared conversations, loving glances, and a relaxed Kunikida. A sight to see, but one that is enjoyed.

~ Okay but like… imagine sharing a little slow dance right outside his shared appartment with S/O before finally retiring for the night. I’d pass away from melting

⤜♡→ Fukuzawa ⤜♡→

~Seeing his relaxed sleepy face first thing in the morning is a gift itself. As soon as he senses S/O rustling around, his wrapping his arms around S/O and pulling them close. Peppering kisses along their jaw and whispering sweet affections in their ear.

~Today’s a day he decided to arrive late into the ADA. He takes his time having breakfast with S/O and presents them with a small gift, something S/O has had there eye on for some time.

~Orders their favorite food for lunch and they share it together in his office with the door closed off to the other ADA members.

~Brushes the hair away from their neck to place a tender kiss between their shoulders. Enough to make their S/O shiver and it brings a smile to his face before having to return to his work.

~After working hours, Fukuzawa wants to have an evening in. Preparing a home cooked meal along side his S/O and putting on their favorite show/movie.

~Carries S/O to bed if they fall asleep on him during the moving. Lovingly tucks them in and joins them. Once again whispering how grateful he is to have someone so wonderful.

⤜♡→Chuuya ⤜♡→

~Hear me out, yes the man has money to spoil his S/O with. Buuuut what about going to a drive in movie theater with him? Double feature, popcorn, drinks, and whatever snacks their lover wants.

~During the movie trailers he surprised you with an extravagant piece of jewelry of S/O taste. Def helps S/O clasps it in its proper place.

~Followed by lots of loving kiss and sweet affection *Swoons*

~Probably rents out a car for this occasion so he can have some privacy with cuddle his S/O in the back. If S/O gets cold he offers them his jacket that is covered in his natural scent and cologne *Double swoon*

~After the movie ends at nearly 1am, I can see him offering to take S/O out to eat at whatever place may be open so late. Imagine getting the food to go but eating it in the parking lot of said restaurant. Casually conversing about the movie.

~By the time him and S/O are dragging their feet through the door, it is most defiantly time for bed. Maybe a quick shower and a change into comfortable pjs. Cuddling close to each other basking in each others shampoo scent until Chuuya once again finds you in his dreams.

⤜♡→Akutagawa ⤜♡→

~This one will be the toughest out of everyone. He isn’t exactly well versed in making something special for anyone. But Prehaps with some help from Gin, he does attempt. Key word. Attempt.

~For Aktugawa, I think it would be really sweet if his S/O were to help guide him in his endeavors. Struggling to make breakfast? Let’s do it together! No clue on jewelry? Open the conversation. He’ll be attentive to S/O answers. His not really a people person? The park is a nice open space, or Prehaps a night in with movies, or something of a similar manner.

~Fooorehead kisses, please don’t bring it up. He really is trying his best. If S/O kisses his back, he is a meeesssss.

~Couch nap? Couch nap. S/O laying their head on his chest while he gently runs his fingers through their hair while they drift off for a afternoon nap. Yes.

[inabigcoat]

your thoughts on 'as above, so below'?

pls & ty!

AH I HEART AS ABOVE SO BELOW ive just rewatched it again recently!!

It's a love to hate it hate to love it movie in some ways for me. the hate part is MOSTLY bc Scarlett is such an insufferable asshole and she did NOT deserve the redemption she got as far as the actual in-universe rules go. Like it kills the point the film is making in saying if u run away from your past and the things you did wrong u will be judged to have done wrong in the end. You have to face what you've done, which every character was given a chance to do, and some passed and made it above, and some failed and were kept below. BUT SCARLETT just like. felt bad about ONE of the shitty things she'd done (not being there for her dad before he killed himself) and DID NOT AT ALL honestly acknowledge or truly seek forgiveness for anything else. like putting countless people in danger to go chase the pet anthropology archeology whatever project her and her dad were obsessed with. not as cute as she seems to think it was to do that . or getting George trapped in an overseas prison and literally fucking. abandoning him there. she was kind of like ohhh George im sowwy 3: but it was so long ago maybe get over it.... and she lived while Siouxie died and we never even found out what her deal was.

Scarlett's so privileged and it makes her think bc she's got some degrees that she can do whateeeever she wants to meet her ends. haaaaaate scientists like that in real life too and she reflects them perfectly. like u are not immune to best practices and ethical study design biiiitch lol

that said. i love pretty much everything else about the movie. love symbolism love extended metaphor love Siouxie love La Taupe. so many quotable and relevant lines too. the only way out is down ...... real......

and the setting is i mean. come on. incredible.. combines Cave with Haunted House with religious horror pretty efficiently. trapped in the tight stone belly of earth sinking ever deeper and also OoooOoooOO there is a dead guy ...i wish the catacombs weren't french bc that shit rules

some parts of it were corny but it's religious haunted alchemy treasure hunt cave horror so pretty hard to avoid any corn at all

the scares are pretty good too 👍 it's a fun one. highly recommend if u haven't watched it.

[venting-ghost]

I hate hate hate hate this so fucking much fucking shit family can't follow a plan like a fucking normal person oh my fucking god.

We talked about this the whole month and now we're fucking 3 days before the deadline and they want to do nothing jesus fucking christ.

We're all here, we have the money, the store is open. We just have to GO there and fucking get over this but noooo.

My sister planned the whole fucking day so there's as little time as possible to go there, and even after THAT, we got enough time so we COULD go if she didn't change her fucking mind with some bullshit excuse that there's not enough time even though IT IS.

So whateeeever, we can go monday, right? Yeah, everyone agrees, we can go monday after I'm done with uni. Right? It's not like my fucking brother doesn't wake up until 18, but alright. Whatever.

We'll go monday (or Tuesday but let's pretend she didn't fucking add that implying she wasn't going to go monday, bc WHATEVER)

Mother fucking shit, I want to cry

We have everything, everyone's awake, the place is open, we have the money, everyone's HERE and that's so fucking hard to do bc we don't live together and they STILL WANT TO FUCK THIS UP.

And what can I do? I fucking gave in, bc sure. Whatever. What can I do? I can't drag them out the door, and the time we wasted fighting about it was the time it would've taken us to get there.

And the second I fucking accept do what she fucking wants then she's all "Ohhh, but don't resign yourself like that" LIKE BITCH YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED, WE'RE NOT GOING TODAY, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO???

I swear to god, if my Tuesday afternoon they're not ready I'm going by myself and fuck everyone else, mother fucking pieces of shit.

They all agreed to do this, I did my fucking part and looked up the place, got the money, arranged everything and now they want to just??? Let it for the last day??? Fucking shit, we had ALL MONTH and when I point this out I'M the bad guy, blaming everyone and rushing everyone.

It wasn't fucking rushing them, we have literally 3 days left to do it after planning to do it 3 weeks ago.

[tower-of-erinyes]

Hm. | Beni | Trial. Ruri?

It would have been kind of obvious to anyone if Beni was the one behind things. Again. But... wasn't this even more obvious...?

There had been no big emotional outbursts, no real reactions at all from Beni. He'd seen Kesley, bled out on the ground, and he didn't have to spend a lot of time looking around for Memory to replace him in his main interest spot, since she was soon to follow. Though he didn't do that enthusiastically either. But seeing them both, all he'd given was a single, detached 'Hm.'

And  since then it'd just been pretty clear to him what he'd be doing.

Well, he shouldn't lie. Nothing had actually been clear to him. The outline had been, the "move on like nothing happened" had been, the detachment. And he had been. He'd been utterly useless during all that had led up to the trial, had shrugged off questions ('Don't know, haven't seen anything, wasn't there.') hadn't raised a finger to help.And during the trial? Silence. Not a word, not a smile even, eyes wandering with open disinterest over the others. He'd say his thoughts are his own but... he wasn't honestly thinking of things of more substance than what he'd have for dinner this night.Sure, he might be accused here and there, but what else is new. What else is ever new under the sun...

Honestly he figured if he had to put in a vote, it'd be Ruri, for no other reason than, well... He doesn't like her. And it'd round things out, right? Remove that whole part of the group at once, like an abnormalty, because it kind of was to him. Except, well, for her. She hadn't really won him over, he'd never understood just what Kesley had seen in her. And even as the claws come out and the words are said, she doesn't. She just doesn't. He'd tried. Absently, he thinks that he should probably have killed her, but that's what he gets for not following on urges all the time.

He'd just pulled out a cigarette when she'd started talking too, his last actually. It goes back in the package, which is something he has to focus on for a bit instead of whateeeever she's talking about.

"Hm."

Everyone is kind of going off on stuff like... Oh, come on, he isn't even listening. He figures it's the usual. Justice and truth and such.

Blah blah blah.... If she'd been this way since the start he might have held an iota of interest in her... But doing that now...?

"God, you're so boring..."

He mumbles, not even loud enough to carry perhaps. What is this, some kind of dumb plot twist...? Who does those anymore...? Now has Beni met a lot of people who are that twisted? No, not really. But that doesn't make it interesting.

He hadn't heard her before, so he doesn't realise that he's echoing her. Even if he had, it doesn't make them similar in nature. He's better than her. At virtually everything he's pretty sure. Because she's, well. A boring little nothing of a person holding two thoughts at a time in her head, and never any more.

But he's not mad. Not even disappointed honestly.

"So.... Kesley's not a dog, honestly. You really gotta stop calling him some kind of animal, he was just a guy. It's not healthy."

Not that that matters, at all. He tosses the package of cigarettes and its one remaining cig on the podium, and raises his hand, and there you go, the smile is back, as if it'd never left when he turns to Atropos and Lachesis.

"Hey heyyyy~ I got a whooole lot of rest and I don't plan on doing anything with the rest of my life, so wouldn't it be super cool and fun if I killed her? You could do a deathmatch for your viewers, or just let me stab her, it's whatever. Or you could execute me after if you want? If you need an execution I mean. Heads up that I'm going to try anyways. So you might as well get the most entertainment value you can out of it."

Look at him now mom. He does learn from his mistakes.So, he will make sure to kill her this time.

[luciana-silentstar]

Ayo friendly reminder to blacklist the tag “SSO crit” if you wanna keep following me but don’t wanna read my criticisms of the game.

I’m a believer of being able to support things, and people even, even while critiquing them. So if you don’t like that feel free to blacklist unfollow or block. But I’m never gonna yell at someone or be cool with people yelling at people for having their own feelings about something. It’s asinine.

I love SSO. I know it can be better. And because of that, sometimes I will yell and I will yell a lot. No one has to like it which is why you have multiple ways of dealing with that if that’s the case. 💜

[kagamin3ko]

this is my blog if at any moment someone is bothered by me talking about my personal problems or “vent” like we call it in english you’re free to leave

im sick of feeling ashamed and guilty when i does that, nobody obligated you to stay here, that is my blog im free to post whatever i want

you came here for art and that isnt what you were expecting? that is not my fault just leave if it bothers you

if i come to vent again of say i want to die or talk about my problems whatever im so sick of feeling guilty of it, i want not to give a fuck anymore and stop saying sorry or saying oh i should delete that blog, everyone is free to leave and me i do my thing its my personal blog im a very unstable person so dont expect a “normal” art blog that is not what is it i happen to post art because i drawing is something i love but there is not rules or chart about that being a blog only to share art

that is a blog for myself to post whatever i want or happens to post out of compulsivity to be clear

so judge me all you want whatever call me attention seeker if it makes you feel superior

 i hate attentions and i want nobody attention nor pity keep it for yourself nor whatever this doesnt help me on the contrary and this is not with my little blog also first ever blog that im gonna have attention anyway

so by now if if spill personal problem what the fuck ever you’re free to leave see im so sick i dont even draw lately all the previous draw are old, dont expect anything and leave me free to post whatever i want

im not angry at anyone i just want to feel guiltless and free about my own blog, nobody obligated you to follow me so nobody obligate you not to unfollow its the same for everyone’s blog

[etherealbards]

ALSO 😐 SORRY VERY PETTY THING BUT KIND OF MAD TAYLOR IS A HORIZON WALKER CONCLAVE RANGER BC I WAS SOOOOOOO ROOTING FOR GLOOMSTALKER BUT WHATEEEEVS 💔 i guess this makes sense more plot wise ig bc were doing all of this plane hopping stuff or whatever!

[ac-liveblogs]

Finally catching up on Damian’s plotline in Robin (2021) since it trended the other day (and given the current trend with Batman trending, that bodes terrifying), and oh man, some feelings on issue 5.

But basically, it kind of epitomises how much I hate the way the Robins’ relationships shake out in modern DC - especially the “so what’s actually canon?” parts of it. Well, basically, the canon stance is that canon is made up so just fill in whateeeever you want. 

So like, you know this bit?

Hey, when have these five ever had a Rooftop Race? Has that ever been a thing? How often do these 5 actually hang out? On-screen? Because it seems to be the writers are trying to pretend that they’re actually super close, no really, without putting in the legwork. Telling, not showing.

You know what annoys me? Dick and Damian’s relationship. In practice, not in theory. You know that arc in the current Nightwing arc that was simultaneously pulling on your heartstrings about Dick & Damian’s relationship as Batman & Robin during Shawn’s pregnancy scare, but it also had them meeting Professor Pyg? You know how that established that Batman & Robin 2009, the foundation of the very relationship they were capitalising on, was completely non-canon? 

Not that that wasn’t obvious already - Jason’s actions prior to the New 52 are definitely all non-canon, and Steph was never Batgirl in this continuity - but at time of reading I was kind of staggered by the audacity. If the thing you are referencing is not canon, then the heartwarming time period that Rebirth likes referencing is completely made up. It doesn’t exist except in the reader’s head. I don’t know what happened there - no one does - but just imagine whatever makes it most appealing to you, okay?

I mean, Tim and Jason don’t even have that much. Why are those three on (relatively) good terms? At least in Jason’s case we have “because Scott Lobdell said so” (literally, for Jason & Tim), but you know, it is extremely jarring to jump from pre-New 52′s murder attempts to Rebirth swearing up and down they love each other with absolutely no alternative canon substituted to explain how these relationships came about, like getting a Robin badge slapped on your chest confers onto you both magic and deep, loving brotherly relationships with people you don’t spend a lot of time with. 

Was Jason established as the emotional one with such a bleeding heart that a) means he’ll instantly forgive Damian trivialising his extremely traumatic death for literally no reason and b) means that Damian playing cute lil bro for 0.5 seconds will catch him completely off-guard to the point he can be immobilised? The same Jason that shot Damian in the chest, which was never addressed? That Jason? Because if I were a new reader who found this very cute and tried to find where those two met, that is literally the only thing I’d get, never mind how all this multiverse past life memories nonsense is shaking out. 

So is Damian trying to kill Tim canon? Did that stick around, or is their snarky relationship just meant to be “brothers gonna fight but really they do love each other!”, same as Jason and Damian’s? Where even were Jason & Tim during the fabled time Dick & Damian spent as Batman & Robin? You know how much this relies on you simultaneously knowing all of the boys’ established pre-reboot history, but also managing to intuit what is or isn’t relevant anymore?? And do not get me started on where Steph fits into all this?

Why should I care about any of this when DC has essentially shrugged and said “yeah it’s whatever you want?” 

Because like, that’s what it is. Jason, Tim and Damian are ~brothers~ and Dick and Damian are Super Special Awesome Brothers, and that’s it. That’s what we get. Insert your fancomics here, please. 

It’s aesthetically very cute, but it’s so stupidly hollow. Cheap gratification at the expense of actual characterisation. Telling, not showing. 

[longitud-de-onda]

ego

pairing; agent whiskey | jack daniels x female reader summary; you and jack are stuck in an apartment when the city you’re in goes into lockdown for covid-19. as the time goes by in isolation, tension can only rise. rating; t warnings; mention of sex and the results of a one-night stand, alcohol, angst, quarantine word count; 3.3k a/n; first whiskey fic! not sure how it went, but i’m happy with it. reader’s statesmen codename is agent cider

“Fuck!” Whiskey yelled from the other room and you heard the shattering sound of glass.

You didn’t want to get up but you figured you had to at this point.

“What’s wrong, Whiskey?” you say, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, staring out into the living space. He was pacing back and forth, which explained the sound that had been driving you insane. Glass littered the carpet near the coffee table.

“We have to fucking stay here,” he growled. He stopped to slam down his hand on the kitchen counter, causing you to jump. “Champ said the mission’s aborted. We’re stuck.”

Shit. “How long are we here for?”

“Don’t know.  At least a couple weeks, if not more.” Whiskey was getting more worked up with every word. “The damn quarantine doesn’t start for another 12 hours, we could be long gone by then, but headquarters fuckin’ wants us to stay.”

“It’s for the best, right?” you said, trying to stay calm about things. You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of living with Whiskey for an unspecified period, but you couldn’t complain. Statesman would still pay you, and for the mission you were holed up in one of their properties, a rather large and well-stocked two-bedroom apartment. You weren’t supposed to be here for more than a couple more days so you’d need to get more food, but beyond that? You were set.

“For the best? The best would be lettin’ us not get caught in a damn city-wide lockdown. We could at least take up another job in another city.” He was so worked up you were worried he would smash another glass or pull out one of the guns you knew were strapped under that jacket of his.

You wandered into the living room, stepping carefully around the broken glass to perch yourself on the couch. “Agent Whiskey, you’re a smart man. What’s the primary purpose of Statesman?”

“To protect the people of the world from terrorists and other major threats,” he said, reciting the phrase every agent knew by heart. Not because they had to, but because Champ was always saying it.

“Right. And COVID-19? It’s a major threat. The virus itself, yeah, but also the panic surrounding it. Everyone’s going insane. Plus, the quarantine helps limit the spread. Staying here is best for the public health. And another mission in another city? Whiskey, you know that the rest of the US is going to follow suit soon enough. We’ve got to accept that we’re here for the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t want to be here for the foreseeable future.” Even though you were frustrated that Whiskey was acting like a baby, he had at least stopped pacing and was now sinking onto one of the barstools against the kitchen counter.

“It’s a big apartment.” You shrugged. There wasn’t much left you could do at this point. You had to accept the situation.

.

“I can’t sit and read another damn book.”

You looked up to see Whiskey standing a few feet away from the couch where you sat, working on a project on your laptop.  He looked tired.

It had been almost 12 hours since you had lost contact with the rest of Statesman, along with all the intel work they had you doing. The distillery was shut down for health reasons, and given the high number of agents that had tested positive, they opted to shut down operations for a while, leaving you and Whiskey without anything to do to pass the time.

“You don’t have to read,” you said. “There’s a tv, a kitchen, you can do whatever you want. There’s an iPad too.”

“I don’t wanna sit around, doll. This life is much too boring.”

“It’s the life we’ve got to live, Whiskey,” you said, shutting your laptop and standing up. “And don’t call me doll.”

You walked back into your room and shut the door. Over the past couple of days, you had grown fed up with Whiskey; every couple hours he’d pop into wherever you were working and complain. He never wanted to talk with you. He never helped make meals. He didn’t want to do anything with you.

But you couldn’t necessarily blame him. Ever since that fateful drunken night a couple months ago things hadn’t been the same.

The two of you were celebrating a successful mission at the Statesman bar laughing and loudly boasting to whoever would listen. At 3am you stumbled out to the parking lot, attempting to get into your car when Jack sauntered up behind you.

“Cider, darlin’, you don’t think you’re gonna drive home in that state, are you?”

You scoffed. “I’m gonna do whateeeever I fuckin’ please, Jack, you can’t stop me.”

“I can stop you from driving home drunk.”

“What are you gonna do about it? Drive me home? ‘Cause I don’t think y’can like that.” You gestured lamely at Jack, swirling around your finger in front of his chest and then poking him.

“You’re right, darlin’, neither of us are gonna be makin’ it home tonight, but my truck’s got more space that that little sedan of yours so I’d suggest you sit pretty in my passenger seat, recline it and sleep.”

You made it into his car, but by the time he was helping you recline the seat-back you were tugging him on top of you, pressing your lips to his, and pulling him all the way into the truck. He closed the door and at the same time, dipped a hand under your shirt, working his way up to palm your breast. And the night disappeared into a drunken haze of moaning and connection and something slow and emotional that you were afraid to admit.

The next morning you woke up, pressed against Jack on the reclined seat of his truck, his breath light on your shoulder where his mustache tickled against your skin. Your neck was sore from the position and your arm hurt from the unnatural curve of the seat.

And you were both naked.

That was enough for your eyes to fly wide open. You had just drunkenly fucked your work partner of five years. Five whole years of a professional relationship. Five years of not letting his flirty nature get to you. And you ended up naked in his goddamn truck.

And Jack. He was still caught up on that high school sweetheart of his. The one he lost all those years ago. You knew Jack better than most, and ever since losing her, he hadn’t been one to fuck around. He was going to regret this, and you didn’t want to be the person that ruined things for him. Even if it was something you wanted. So you pushed his arm off from around you (thank god he was a heavy sleeper when hungover) and quietly opened the car door and slipped out into the morning sun.

Later that day you asked Champ to be reassigned partners. He looked you in the eye and asked you why and your silence told him everything.

And thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions, just signed you off to work with Agent Brandy and for Jack to work with Agent Bourbon.

It was going smoothly until a week later you ran into Jack for the first time since that morning as you were entering the briefing room and he was leaving. The look of anger in his eyes when he saw you caused a sharp pang of guilt that you felt for the rest of the day. The following evening he approached you at the bar.

“So you requested a new partner? Was I that bad?” He was stumbling a bit. Drunk. That took a lot of work for him. A lot of alcohol. You could smell it on his breath.

“I’m sorry Whiskey, it didn’t make sense to keep going. Had to stay professional, you know?”

“Right. Professional.”  You could tell he was trying to infuse his words with venom, but the alcohol slurred every syllable. “Throwing five damn good years down the drain, and now I’m stuck with Bourbon. Real professional, Cider.”

“You know it was the right decision. Don’t lie to yourself about it,” you said, trying to convince him. But you were also trying to convince yourself.

You didn’t see him for another couple months, missions keeping the two of you busy. That is until Agent Brandy got himself into a little accident and was stuck in the hospital for a few weeks and Champ gave you little warning before Whiskey wandered into the briefing room for your next mission, looking just as surprised as you were that the two of you were being assigned as partners again.

You sank down onto your bed. You’d be lying to yourself to say that you weren’t excited to work with Whiskey again, but you had fucked up and now he didn’t want anything to do with you.

.

“I’m going out for groceries,” you called back towards the bedrooms.

“Can you even do that?”

“Yeah, one person per household can leave for essential groceries.”

“When are you going to be back?”

“I don’t know, depends on the lines,” you said.

You heard a door open and Whiskey appeared in the living room. “Can you get some stuff for lasagna?”

“I don’t know how to make lasagna, Whiskey,” you said. If you were going to be doing all the cooking, he was going to have to deal with whatever you put on the table.

“I wanted to make it,” he said.

So Whiskey was finally willing to cook. Great. To be honest, you had missed his cooking. On previous missions, if you were lying low for a while, not unlike this, he would cook all the time. The two of you were both comfortable in a kitchen, but Whiskey’s cooking was really the best food in the world.

“Okay. Ricotta cheese, parmesan, the noodles, sauce, meat, what else?”

“Garlic and onion,” he said. And he smiled. That was the first smile he had directed at you. Probably since you had hooked up.

“Right. See you later?”

“See you later,” he grinned. You turn to head out the door. “And thank you, darlin.”

You would never let Whiskey know, but you smiled to yourself on the way out.

.

Things had gotten better between you and Whiskey after he made lasagna. He started helping out with meals. You had bought a few bottles of wine at the store and a few distilled drinks. Those made Whiskey’s eyes light up. Given your shared history with alcohol and each other, you were both pretty good at limiting yourselves, but a glass or two of wine with dinner had you talking into the late evening. You found yourselves spending more time sitting together on the couch to watch movies or read. Sitting down for every meal together became a standard, rather than an afterthought.

You still didn’t say a word about what had happened between you. You couldn’t. The whole thing was soaked in shame.

Sometimes you would come out to the living room but stop before you stepped into the light when you saw Whiskey staring at the photo of his late girlfriend that he kept in his wallet. Your stomach would turn and you retreat to your room again. As much as you hoped he didn’t notice you watching, you knew he did. He was nothing if not perceptive.

.

“Can we do something?” you looked up to see Whiskey standing in the door of your room.

“Like what?” you had been reading for the past five hours and were almost done with the series you had started the week before. It was probably good that he was getting you out of the room.

“I don’t know, I’m bored.”

“So am I.”

“Yeah, but—” he started. “Never mind. I get that you don’t want to spend time with me. I can take a fucking hint, just, next time? Can you just tell me and not act all distant?”

That went a completely different direction than you had expected.

“What do you mean, Whiskey?” You stood up. “I do want to spend time with you, where the hell did you get that idea from? I just asked what you wanted to do.”

“I mean you act so damn distant. I thought things were looking up, like you actually liked me again, but you clearly don’t.” His stance became defensive, and you could see the muscles in his face soften. “I try to do things with you and you accept but you’re never really there. You’re different, Cider. It’s like I don’t even know you.”

And here you had thought you were lucking out. Like he was beginning to forgive you for sleeping with him. For leaving him.

“Whiskey, I do like you. And I don’t know what I need to say for you to understand that.”

“I think you’re gonna need to do a lot more than saying shit,” he said. “You’re gonna need to do something. But maybe you could start by explaining things. That’d make me a bit happier.”

“And you think I want to keep talking?” You said it before you realized how awful it sounded. But the next words were tumbling out before you could stop them. “When you’re taking every word I say and thing I do and twisting it? I don’t have a fucking clue what I did that gave you the impression that I didn’t like you, I’ve been nothing but damn happy to have you talking to me again the past week. So I’m not going to be doing any fucking explaining when all you’re going to do is spit my words back at me like they were said to hurt you.”

“What did you do to give me the impression you didn’t like me? Does fucking disappearing the morning after and then asking to never have to work with me again count? Because that was a pretty clear message that you hated me,” Whiskey yelled. He turned around and slammed the door behind him.

He was right even if you didn’t want to admit it.

.

You spend the next couple of days holed up in your respective bedrooms. It was almost humorous how you managed to never run into one other. You even prepared meals separately, relying on leftovers from the week when you didn’t have the energy to cook. One lunch you made a plate for Whiskey too, leaving it out covered in plastic wrap on the counter. You heard him go out to the kitchen for lunch an hour later and that night when you made dinner, the plate was still sitting on the counter, wrapped up and uneaten.

He went out for groceries. You were in the living when he came back and stood up to help him unpack.

“I don’t need your help,” he said, almost devoid of emotion.

“I don’t mind helping.”

“Well, I don’t want your help.”

You took your leave. Not before seeing a large bottle of vodka peeking out of one of the bags. After you took your dinner into your room, you heard him wandering around with the television turned on, loud. When you went out to clean your dishes, he had a glass in his hand and was staring at the screen, playing some sort of morbid news about the virus. Something you were quick to identify as pure fear-mongering.

“You shouldn’t watch that, Whiskey.”

He glanced up at you, his voice thick with the alcohol and the southern drawl only amplified. “Cider, babe. You know my name.”

“And you know mine, Whiskey.”

“You should use it,” he smiled, “It sounds so nice coming from those pretty lips.”

Your stomach clenched. It was one thing to avoid you for what you had done. It was a whole other thing to torment you like this. You liked him, that was nothing new to you, the secret you had kept for years. Hearing him flirt again, flirt while drunk and out of it? It hurt.

“Right. Well, you should still stop watching. Good night.”

.

The next morning the entire bottle was empty on the countertop and you didn’t hear a single movement coming from Whiskey’s room until 2pm.

.

Things got worse. So much worse. The isolation was really getting to you. How anyone could manage this for more than a couple days was beyond you. Anyone doing this without anyone else in their home had to be the bravest souls.

.

“I can’t do this anymore,” your voice cracked as you stared down at Jack. You had pushed open the door to his bedroom after softly knocking and not relieving any response. It had been a couple days since that night with the vodka.

Jack was sitting on his bed, laptop up in front of him, but he closed it as soon as he saw you crying at the door.

“What’s wrong, Cider?”

“I can’t keep being alone in this house.” The tears were flowing down your cheeks and every few words were punctuated by a gasp for air. “I can’t keep avoiding you. I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know. And you haven’t responded well the last few days. But I know it’s ninety percent my fault, and I know you probably can’t forgive me at this point. I honestly thought you were getting close, but then—then you weren’t, and you probably hate me. And I’m so fucking alone now.”

In the time you had taken to say those words, Jack had sprung to his feet and was standing in front of you. His hands were planted on your upper arms, a calming pressure enough to get the tears to subside for a moment.

“Look at me,” he said, “All I ever wanted was an apology and for you to come back. I never wanted for you to disappear from my life, and then not offer any explanations. You’ve been my most trusted companion for years. I could never hate you.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“Of course not, darlin,” he smiled. “I’m mad at you, sure. Have been for a while. But hate you? Never. Can you just tell me one thing?”

“Anything.” You stared up at those swirling brown eyes that had always held you with such high regard. There were tears in the corners.

“Why’d you leave?”

“What?”

“That whole day was the worst day of my life since I lost her, you know? I woke up after an amazing night and you were gone, and then I got to work and was called in and told I had a new partner. It hurt. Just as much as losing someone. Maybe even worse ‘cause they’re still right there, but don’t want to see you.”

“Jack, I—” You weren’t sure where to start. Hearing his side of things made it so much worse. “You don’t do that. The whole, sleeping around thing? That’s me. But you don’t seem to have moved on, and I didn’t want you to resent me.”

“Resent you? I thought you knew. I wouldn’t have let that happen if I didn’t want it.”

“Do you mean—”

“Cider, you’re it for me. And I thought I wasn’t it for you. I thought you regretted that night.”

You stared up at Jack in shock. He didn’t regret that night? You had run away from him when he wanted you back? If you had stayed, would you two be—You couldn’t finish that thought.

“Am I wrong?” Jack asked, and you could now see the worry crossing his features. “You didn’t regret it, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.” It felt good to say that. After all of that, for those words to be out there. For the agreement to be laid down in front of the two of you.

He pulled you into a hug.

“You’re it for me too, Jack,” you said, and pushed him back. You wanted to see his face so that you could wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him like you had wanted to for years.

.

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @turquiosenights @el-lizzie​ @sparrows-books​ @dxxkxx​ @opheliaelysia​ @trashbin2​ @arcadianempress​ @rzrcrst​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​

[winderrific-moved]

I could take whateeeever i wanted (WHATEVER ! I ! WANTED !)

[indiekingsarchive]

@okayyeahsurewhynotcool

Willa had thrown a very small party at her Oakland apartment. She invited a few of her friends from school, a couple coworkers, and a regular or two that she had grown close with over to just hang out. The spring semester had wrapped up and she just had the sudden urge to invite a few of her favorite people over as a way to celebrate surviving another semester. Among those favorite people was Zari, a quiet art student Willa had a few classes with as she finished up some pre-recs. She was sweet and seemed like she needed a friend. Willa was easy going and it didn’t take much for her to enjoy a person’s company. Zari and her became school friends and eventually started to hangout outside of school.

Her neighbor Raj, her coworker Paula, Paula’s ‘friend’ Josh, and Zari were all taking shots in the kitchen while Willa was finishing up a round of Mario Kart on her Switch with a few people. Willa placed 1st place in the race. She raised her arms and wooed in her victory and as soon as her arms went up, Zari appeared in her lap. Willa was high and a little drunk, not really sure why Zari was singing but it made her smile. “Have you come to congratulate me on my victory?”

The three other people she had played against got up from the couch, leaving the two sitting together alone. Willa couldn’t help but smile in amusement as Zari complimented her. Without thinking about it, Willa’s hand rested on Zari’s thigh. “Do I now?” she asked, giving Zari a playful model-esque look, raising a brow as she tried to look serious before chuckling some. She smiled a little more when Zari called her pretty. “What? You saying you want to sketch me? Paint me? I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, Zari,” her smirk grinned a little more. They were friends, but it didn’t meant Willa didn’t find Zari attractive. She didn’t like to lead with her flirting foot all the time, even though she had that chill-cool-guy vibe about her when she did flirt. Zari was a good friend and she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with her. Willa, however, couldn’t help but be a little more flirty since Zari was there in her lap, giving her compliments. She was flirting with her, she thought, and she didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

Zari wasn’t really a party type of person. Large groups of people typically made her nervous and especially when she drank she could get a little out of hand. When Willa brought up the party earlier she wasn’t sure if she was going to go even if it had been just a few people. She’d taken to Willa early on, she just had such a precious vibe about her, how couldn’t she?

Eventually, she’d been convinced and had come. It wasn’t nearly as many people there as she’d thought it’d be but something about the amount of strangers in her space still made her anxiety skyrocket...until she was invited to do shots. Of course the liquor had made her loosen up, becoming quick friends with Raj, Paula, Josh. Although Paula and Josh had been entering their own world, she spoke to Raj most of the time until she’d started to wonder about Willa again.

Zari stopped babbling to look over at the TV screen for a moment before screaming a little. “Congratulatiooooons my Willa flower.” The girl smiled widely and cupped her cheeks again. Zari nodded at the mention of sketching or painting her. It’d be interesting. Willa had very strong features but was still feminine in her own way which isn’t something she had a lot of experience with, at least not with people. But the real issue would be with capturing her aura; Willa could be so mysterious. “Whateeeever I want, you say.” She wagged her eyebrows playfully, laughing again. She liked what was happening here, whatever it was. She could admit she was openly flirting with the woman, which was outside of her nature, but it wasn’t like Willa was sore on the eyes and she was cool to be around. Why wouldn’t she flirt with someone like that?

[being-john-malkobitch]

Qué piensas del término SJW (y los que lo usan)?

pues me dan más o menos la misma pereza los que sjw que los que se denominan anti-sjw. 

A ver hay una diferencia muy grande entre decir “el racismo está mal y las mujeres trans son mujeres” (que hay quienes consideran a la gente así SJW y en ese caso yo sería una de ellos) o decir “black male can’t rape white women because of white privilege or something” o “trans people are never rapist” because privilege or something también. O la cantidad de mierda que me he encontrado en grupos de facebook de putos memes, como aquella vez sorry lo he contado 18341938193 veces pero me la pela porque sigo shook que me llamaron clasista y ableista por decir que autodiagnosticarte enfermedades mentales y automedicarte para ellas es peligroso. Y me dijeron que hiciera “self crit” que es otro puto concepto que no conocía pero que es la puta mierda más tóxica que he visto en mi vida y se resume en: di lo que quiero oír o eres un puto nazi. Ah ah esa es otra historia, cuando hice un post con chistes de literatura (no míos, sino de una página que encontré y puse en la fuente) y dejé fuera los que no me hacían gracia, como uno de literatura del bronx que no conozco porque lo siento, no todos conocemos cada última puta cosa que pasa en ese pozo de mierda llamado estados unidos. Y de repente me llegaron mazo de anons diciendo que por qué había dejado ese fuera, que era una puta supremacista blanca y que me suicidara. Cuando contesté a uno diciendo que sólo había puesto los graciosos y que, por ejemplo, entre ellos estaba el realismo mágico que es latinoamericano, me dijeron que sólo lo había puesto porque Gabriel García Márquez es blanco (??????????????????????)Also creo que esta puta gente actuando como auténticos tarados, es la que más daña a movimientos tan importantes como el feminismo. Muchas veces he visto posts por aquí que vaya puta telita. Lo único que consiguen es crear más reaccionarios y sorry not sorry este tipo de gente es la que ha hecho que Trump gane las elecciones. Creo que llamar nazi a cualquier persona que se sale de tu fucking eco chamber, hace que se pierda el sentido de la palabra y la peña diga “pues ok”Y luego por otro lado están los anti-sjw que si alguien se define así a si mismo, lo más posible es que sea un puto incel resentido y/o a real nazi, no porque lo diga yo, sino porque ellos mismos no tienen reparos en denominarse así y ponerse fotos de perfil con esvásticas, que me parece un buen indicio.Pero vaya, me gusta pensar que la mayoría de la gente se encuentra en un punto intermedio en el que reina la capacidad crítica y el puto sentido común de no ser un racista, no odiar a las mujeres, no defender la esclavitud… sin necesidad de estar todo el puto día creando Discourse para ganar puntos de superioridad moral en internet. Y sé que cagarme en los putos sjw por tumblr es un suicidio y que si lo hiciera en inglés, el 95% de mis seguidores se me tirarían al cuello y sería “a literal nazi” “a privileged Karen” or whatever whateeeever. Pero como tumblr va a morir pasado mañana pues me la suda fuerte. Also ni 3 personas van a leer este post así que nada. Aprovecho ya que estoy para cagarme fuerte en norteamérica y todos los norteamericanos: sois un puto cáncer a erradicar. Bye.

[galaxies-unknown-a]

He doubted the words were against him, but Swindle couldn’t help but feel a bit struck by the notes. ‘Shadowy Overlord’? Oh please, if anyone was a shadowy figure here....!

Whatever. So long as he could make some currency today, that triangle could spout whateeeever nonsense it wanted.

[forestfx]

You! You are the motherfucking shit! You! Are great! You! Are magnificent! You can do whateeeever you wanna do in this world. Put your mind to it, put your grind to it, and you can do it! Get up, get out, get motivated, get inspired, get your MOTHER FUCKING SHINE ON TODAY because you CAN! You are number one - I don't know no two or three, but i know you're that one! Period! Don't let nobody, nothing distract you from the grind  time - prime time! It's your time right now. Do whatever you need to do!  What did you say? You was gonna give up?  BITCH YOU WASN'T FINNA GIVE NOTHING UP! You was finna keep striving, keep pushing, keep working and keep doing your shit! You are great. It's nothing but success in your future.

Some Youtube Video

[godtier-fics]

on sex, sexuality, and expectations in my fanfics

around this time last year i created a fanfic called taking the last train home which was going to be about alfred and yao falling in love and having sex and what not, whatever. 

ANYWAY READ ON FOR A THING THAT I TYPED UP re some stuff about my fanfics and specifically that one amechu fanfic that all the kiddos love 

the sex in taking the last train home was going to be more intense than anything i’d featured before so i put it on a secret account or whateeeever but...that resulted in a lot of comments that just left me like ‘wtf’ cuz they were gross and kinda insulting to get, you know? as someone who has been writing since i was 12 and who is literally ABOUT TO GET A DEGREE in writing it left me feeling very disgusted and pissed so i deleted it off that account and moved it to my main account but locked it for registered users only! 

but like....that didn’t stop the gross comments, at all? so i was just at a loss because along with that, i’m also a sex repulsed person and while sometimes i don’t mind writing about characters having sex, writing detailed sexual encounters was pushing me past “out of my comfort zone” and into something more like “this is annoying/i don’t want to do this”. 

fanfiction is a HOBBY. sammyaworks is where i post my stories i’d like to receive ($) support on but listen, i’m not writing fanfics so i can make a profit off of characters/concepts that aren’t originally mines. i’m just not about that life and never will be! 

i don’t want my hobby to not be fun! when fanfic stopped being fun i knew i had to step away from it. i think the only fanfic that i have released so far that’s ‘new’ in 2017 was a MCU samsteve fanfic. like...usually i would’ve released 20+ one shots or chapters or whatever by now. but for who? why? this is not a paid job. this is a hobby and so i’ma treat it like one. i’m not going to stress myself out when i have a whole life to worry about. 

anyway, back on topic which is like...i’m just so tired...and i hate being tired of my hobby so that’s why i’m on a break for most fan projects. while i’m on a break i’m doing a LOT of heavy behind the scene background editing for certain WIP fanfics and some of them might be taken down and never put back up (DO NOT REUPLOAD THESE) and some of them will be halfway taken down (aka chapters) cuz i’m reworking/rethinking the chapters. 

this is what’s going on with taking the last train home. i had a talk with one of my friends and they helped me come to the decision that the real story in taking the last train home isn’t so much the sexual relationship but the emotional relationship and development. the story was suffering and i was bored with writing it (i legit haven’t written anything new for it for the better part of a year) because i was trying to force myself to include sexual encounters in an unnatural way. 

so i’ve removed all the overt sexual stuff and will eventually (once i have time but NOT rn) replace with something else i haven’t decided on yet. 

ANYWAY yeah that’s it from me. 

thanks for reading. 

i’m done

-sk