#when she brags about knowing things that Of Course She Knows because shes got 34+ years on me??

[baldyeosang]

my mom is So Dense.

she keeps saying that if we had a forecast of a lot of rain we'd get out of town (we live right next to a river so while its never flooded that bad, we've also never had a storm that bad either)

like. fleeing may save your life but what about all your possessions? fleeing doesn't get you a new home in this housing crisis? doesn't get you new cars? doesn't get you new job? doesn't replace the valuables you couldn't take with you? doesn't bring back all the others who didn't have the luxury of leaving? I don't know what she accomplishes by thinking shes better than people in crisis

[milkiane]

lost time

pairings: colin zabel x reader

warnings: mentions of food, awkward mare lol

word count: 1834

note: because colin is alive and well, watching marvel movies with you and reggie <3

a soft graze upon your forehead caused you to stir a bit from the slumber you were in. eyes blurred and mind still disoriented, you let out a puzzled hum.

colin sighed, his hopes of not waking you up went down low as you rubbed the somnolence away with your hand.

“go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered, caressing your hair.

“work?” you mumbled, forcing back a yawn.

colin hummed, making you frown. as much as you loved seeing your husband at the peak of his career, all of his hard work finally paying off- making him one of the infamous detectives in pennsylvania, it didn’t mean you never longed to have his presence around more.

“can’t you have a day off? just f’today?” you asked, words slurring with sleep, “reggie and i missed you, colin.”

colin’s heart sank. he knew he was spending too much time at work again, only seeing you and his son whenever he comes home late from work, reggie asleep in his bed and you passed out on the living room from waiting up for him, or in the early morning before he goes to work.

“i’ll see what i can do, alright? mare and i have had plenty of information now and we’re so close to solving this case,” colin said, he paused for a bit to think, “but hey, i promise i’ll be home early today for some dinner date with you and reggie, maybe watch some movies if we have some time, is that fine?”

you mustered up a small smile, “sounds perfect, detective,” you leaned up to kiss him on the lips, “now go to work, we’ll see you later.”

with one last kiss on the forehead, colin brought the blankets up to your shoulders and left the room, going into the next one to take a peek at his son.

“mumma, where’s dad?” reggie, your three-year-old son, asked for the umpteenth time. dinner was ready; table mats and plates arranged, the cooked food you spent hours upon making served in your delicate chinawares, and chosen movies fiddled in the hands of your son.

before you could even answer him, the front door jingled, alongside the voice of your husband. you grinned at reggie and exclaimed, “oh- hey, see, daddy’s home!”

you turned back around to make sure everything was in order as your son waddled across the room and into the arms of his father, “hi there, li’l buddy!”

although when you pivoted around, the sudden arrival of another guest surprised you to the limit. mare sheehan, colin’s partner, was standing beside him, taking in the sight of your humble abode.

“oh,”

colin turned his gaze away from his son and to you. usually, the sight of you in his clothes, dinner ready, and soft music playing would have made him more laid back than he was at work, but seeing your hurt expression, dinner ready, and his son still awake, he knew he messed up.

he carefully placed his son back down, letting him shuffle back towards you, “y/n, i- work just caught up, and chief- chief said we have to- and we needed to talk- talk about the case, and i forg-”

pushing aside his stuttering excuse, you forced out a smile and looked at mare, who was just standing there awkwardly, “mare, hey,”

“hey, y/n,” she sent you a tight-lipped smile.

you grabbed reggie and placed him up in his high chair, “c’mon, dinner.”

colin stepped forward and tried to make you look at him, “y/n, i-”

you looked at him with a blank face and replied sternly, “sit down and eat, zabel,”

dinner was awkward and tense, to say the least. colin and mare were exchanging information and questions about the case whilst you were glaring at your husband every once in a while, feeding your son amidst the clattering of utensils and chatter.

there was a moment where silence filled up the room, the discussion of the case long over.

“delicious dinner you made, y/n,” mare cleared her throat, trying to diminish the awkward silence.

“yeah, dinner’s amazing, sweetheart.” colin agreed, trying to get to your best side by complimenting your cooking skills. he wasn’t lying though, it did taste immaculate.

“thanks, mare,” you replied, looking up for a second to acknowledge her, and only giving colin a side-eye.

you were still upset.

“auntie mare, you have cool nerf guns at work?” reggie asked, shaping his mashed potato into a small mountain.

mare blinked, looking between your son and you, “uh, yeah.”

“that’s cool!” reggie’s eyes widened in stupefaction, “you catch bad people like dad, too, auntie?”

mare hummed, sipping on the half-empty beer in her hand.

he whispered a small wow, before talking once more, doing an excellent job of clearing the aura of the room, “like spiderman? spiderman catch bad people, too, auntie! like a superhero,”

“mommy doesn’t catch bad people but she’s my fav’rite superhero.” reggie bragged, beaming at you as you wiped the potato off the corner of his mouth.

as your look softened, you kissed the nose of your son, “thanks, baby. that’s very sweet of you,”

colin smiled, slightly feeling bad for spending less time with his family. he knew that the case they’re working on is important, but he vowed that family always goes first and disregarded that- resulting in you and reggie missing him and colin forgetting that he has a family that he goes back home to.

smiling once more, you stood up, “c’mon, now, say goodnight to auntie mare, alright? we’ll get ready for bed and i’ll read you your favorite bedtime story, ‘kay?”

“but you said we’ll watch spiderman with daddy tonight,” he pouted, arms crossing as he slouched back on his chair.

you sighed, “i know i did, reggie, but daddy has some work to do. he needs to talk about catching the bad guys with auntie mare.”

“okay…” he frowned, raising his arms so that you could get him out of his chair, “good night, auntie mare and daddy.” you nodded politely to mare as you prepared your son for bed.

once he and mare finished off their deliberation on the case, colin got ready for bed and walked into your shared bedroom. seeing you curled up on your side, and asleep, colin sighed.

he never liked sleeping when he knows that you’re both going to bed with a heavy heart. the both of you always fixed things through before heading to bed. ending the night with soft kisses and cuddles.

but that wasn’t the case this time, so he got in under the comforters and turned off the lamp, debating whether or not he should wrap his arm around you.

deciding against it, he kissed your forehead instead and turned to face the other side.

reggie’s eyes slowly fluttered open, it was still dark outside. you promised that the three of you will be spending time together to watch spiderman once his dad got home, but reggie was too avid.

rubbing his eyes, he grabbed his plushie and opened the door of his bedroom, slowly waddling his way to your bedroom, whispering to himself to be careful not to hit anything.

a careful shake on colin’s arm woke him up, he let out a confused groan before begrudgingly opening his eyes.

“reggie? what’cha doin’ up, buddy?” he croaked out, rubbing his face in disarray. his gaze fell onto the clock, 02:34 am.

reggie slowly climbed onto the bed and colin opened his arms to bring him in, “just missed you so much, dad,”

colin’s heart ached. he carefully brought his son in the middle of the bed and let him cuddle further into his hug.

“mommy and i watch superhero movies, but i miss when you copy them in silly voices,” reggie mumbled, slowly feeling the sleepiness take over once more.

“‘m sorry, reggie, i’ll make it up to you and mommy tomorrow, okay?” said colin, he kissed his forehead and rubbed soothing caresses on his head to lull him back to sleep.

the chirping of the birds and the blinding light of the sun seeping through the window served as your wake-up call.

slightly turning around in bed, you sighed as you didn’t see colin in bed anymore. you didn’t know what to expect, of course he’d go back to work.

when you fully turned, you were confused to see reggie sleeping peacefully beside you, arms securely wrapped around his spiderman plushie.

you were about to stand up and make some breakfast when the door suddenly opened. the sight you’re suddenly seeing made you double-take, making sure that you weren’t dreaming.

colin carefully kicked the door a little wider, trying to balance the tray in his hands. when he looked up, he saw that you’ve already woken up, a dazed look on your face.

he smiled, “hey, you’re up. just in time for some breakfast in bed,”

“i thought you were at work,” you sat up, leaning against the headboard.

“made some calls with the chief a while ago, gave me the rest of the week off,” he said, he lowered the food tray on the bedside table and made his way towards reggie.

“reggie?” colin whispered, shaking the little boy a bit to wake him up, “reggie, wake up, buddy,”

he stirred a bit, whining at the sudden disturbance of his sleep.

“reggie, wakey-wakey,” he cooed, running a hand through his son’s hair, “hey, look. i made breakfast, we can watch a movie while eating like i promised, remember?”

“daddy?” he whispered, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

“yeah, c’mon, sit up,” colin raised him slowly, resting him beside your arms, “there we go, now…”

“for breakfast,” he grinned, grabbing the tray and placing it on your lap. he grabbed reggie’s sippy cup, containing his favorite hot chocolate.

“choc’late?” reggie beamed, placing a hold on the bottle to warm his hands up.

“yeah! now, scootch over, we’ll eat together.”

glancing over your husband, a ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. you watched as your two favorite boys interacted, making up for lost time.

as reggie munched on his pancakes, a marvel movie playing on the television, colin sipped on his coffee and turned to look at you.

feeling the weight of his stare, you shifted your gaze away from the movie and stared right back, “what is it?”

he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, “it’s just- i’m sorry, y/n. i know i haven’t been around much, spending too much time at work and little time with you guys. i just wanted to make it up to both of you.”

you smiled softly, placing your cup down, and leaned a bit to kiss his cheek, “s’alright, colin. you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

grinning widely, the both of you turned your attention back to your son who’s babbling about how pepper potts and tony stark are like his parents.

add yourself to my taglist!

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @silencioe @oldschoolkiddo @midnightgremlin @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @mypainistemporary @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirl @hellounicorn @l0vely-lupin @undeadcortez @thatspookyagent @evanmybeloved

colin zabel taglist: @xmaximoffic @raincoffeeandfandoms @tatesrubbersuit

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

click here to be on the update list

PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

                                         A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

[chloebeale]

GOING CRAZY WHEN I’M WITH YOU

For @bechloe-week day 2: Co-Workers.

Beca isn’t trusted to recommend new people to her hiring manager after Amy’s time with the company turned disastrous, so when the girl she’s dating wants to apply, they decide they’ll be “strangers” during working hours.

I’d like to thank the academy and also @isthemusictoblame for kicking my ass into writing this. (There is no academy, just Theresa)

(Read below or on ao3)

WORDS: 4,401 | RATING: M

Why, Beca thinks to herself as she sheds her trusty leather jacket in the office of her regular, day-to-day job -- if working for a highly esteemed record label can be considered regular or day-to-day, anyway -- is she so nervous? It’s not like it’s her first day on the job. Beca has been working here for what seems like a lifetime now. In reality, it has been two years, but she took to the position like a moth to a flame, and she hasn’t looked back since.

Work is... Work. It’s work. Beca is passionate about it, she enjoys it, and she does her job well. There are big names and famous faces walking through that door every single day, and save for the occasional inner fangirl moment, she always manages to remain entirely professional, she never loses her cool.

(And if you were to ask Beca Mitchell, she’s totally cool.)

But today, her blue-gray eyes remain fixed on the doorway to the office she knows like the back of her hand, to the point where coworkers have begun to give her questioning looks, with one even going out of their way to ask her if everything’s okay. Beca has simply shaken them off, told them she didn’t sleep very well last night and she’s a little out of it, but that’s not true.

Well, the lack of sleep is. But Beca has a whole other reason to be acting the way she is. It all started about a year ago now, when one Patricia “Fat Amy” Hobart made her grand entrance into the company...

[ REWIND! ]

---

“Beca,” Mr. Pritchard begins, his hands clasped one on top of the other atop his (admittedly very disorganized) office desk. “I know you mean well, and you really are a valued member of this team, but I’m afraid I just can’t give your friend anymore chances.”

When she’d pushed for her management to give the open office assistant position to her roommate, Beca knew she’d been taking something of a risk. But she and Amy live in the city, they have rent to pay, and it was clear Amy was never going to look for work on her own. Two paychecks would’ve improved their circumstances significantly. They’d had only two months of living in what Beca considered true luxury (rent paid on time, bills taken care of and a little money still left over? Luxury.) before Amy had been dismissed from the company, a whole trail of reasons why. And it seems that no amount of pleading on Beca’s part is going to change anybody’s mind about the decision to let the blonde go.

“Now, I’m not saying it’s your fault, and of course I can’t discuss another staff member’s dismissal with you, but I really think the best thing for you to do now is to focus on your job, and to leave the hiring to me.”

Beca wants to fight, to try just one more time to beg Mr. Pritchard to give her roommate just one more chance, but she knows this is a losing battle, and considering the long list of reasons Amy is no longer employed -- the state of the desk before her just one of many -- she knows her insistence will only continue in vain.

“Okay, Mr. Pritchard,” the brunette eventually gives in through a small, stifled sigh, “I understand. Um, about my friend Stacie wanting to apply...”

The manager shoots her a look, and Beca simply hangs her head.

Focus on her job and leave the hiring to them. Beca has got the message.

---

And that memory, Beca realizes, is why she’s so damn nervous.

But she doesn’t have to be. She really doesn’t have to be, because she and Chloe have gone over this a million times now. Sure, they may be low-key dating, and sure, sparks may be flying already between the two, but here, at work, they don’t know one another. They’re total and complete strangers, because Beca is not allowed to meddle with the hiring process anymore, not since her first and last recommendation turned out so disastrously.

(Truth be told, Amy really didn’t do anything too terrible, at least in Beca’s opinion. Showing up late, making personal calls from the manager’s desk, rearranging his entire office because the feng shui just wasn’t right... All forgivable. Entirely unprofessional, of course, but still forgivable.)

But when the perfect job opportunity had opened up, and Chloe had looked at her with those big, pleading eyes, the ones that Beca could get lost in for hours and completely forget who or where she really was, it had been impossible to say no to her. It’s not like Beca recommended her, nor did she have anything to do with the hiring process -- Chloe landed the position all on her own merit -- but the two of them being acquainted, especially as closely as they are, just won’t sit right with Mr. Pritchard. It’ll be the Fat Amy fiasco all over again, as far as he’s concerned, so she and her maybe-girlfriend-but-really-person-she-hasn’t-actually-had-that-conversation-with-yet have decided they’ll play pretend while on office hours, at least for now. They’ll be perfect strangers, they’ll do their jobs and nobody will know anything different.

Much like a watched pot that never boils, Beca has averted her gaze from the doorway for a fraction of a second when it suddenly swings open, Mr. Pritchard’s hand pressed to the glass as he holds it still for his newest hire to make her way inside.

“And this is where you’ll be working,” Mr. Pritchard says, proud smile on his weathered face as he follows Chloe into the room, door closing quietly behind them.

It’s not uncommon for Chloe Beale to enter a room and Beca’s heart to all but stop beating. She can’t tell this time, however, whether it’s because her maybe-girlfriend has taken her breath away the way she usually does, or because this is officially the beginning of their act. And Beca Mitchell is no actress, so this really will be a test of her own non-abilities.

It’s with sheer force that Beca manages to pull her gaze away from the redhead, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that her mouth is on the verge of hanging open. As Mr. Pritchard begins to walk Chloe around the office, though, introducing her to each on-shift staff member, Beca allows herself one more look the other girl’s way.

Chloe always looks beautiful. But today, with her auburn hair hung in precise ringlet curls, that gray pencil skirt that hugs her figure perfectly, those heels... Man, those heels. Chloe looks incredible, and it’s so hard for Beca not to stare.

Of course, there’s so much more to Chloe Beale than just the way she looks. Beca appreciates every aspect of the other woman. Her mind is astonishing, it’s so deep and so different, unlike anything Beca has ever experienced before. She looks at the world in the most interesting light, and she has broadened Beca’s views so immensely already that--

“Ah, Beca. This is our new office assistant, Chloe.”

Mr. Pritchard’s introduction cuts into Beca’s thoughts, the ones where she’s practically drooling over the idea of the woman standing before her who she’s supposed to act like she doesn’t know and has never actually met before, and Beca jumps slightly on the spot.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Becky,” Chloe chirps, extending her hand politely. Already, the redhead is proving a much better actress than Beca is, though the undeniable sparkle to her crystal blue eyes, the way her lips are turned upward the smallest fraction at one corner, would likely give her away if anybody else knew the truth.

“Yeah, you too,” Beca responds as coolly as possible, though her pitch does rise just a small amount on the second word, but Beca dismisses it with a swift cough and a clear of her throat, and Mr. Pritchard doesn’t seem to notice. Beca notices the way Chloe bites down gently onto her lower lip, though, and she can just picture that familiar smirk the other girl is desperately holding back. “It’s Beca. But I mean, Beca, Becky... Whatever.”

“My apologies, Beca.”

She’ll get her back for that later, she decides.

---

They really haven’t been very lucky with office assistants. There have been two since Amy, neither a very good fit for the company, but it seems that Chloe is slotting in perfectly already. By lunchtime, she has already sprung some idea on Mr. Pritchard that Beca doesn’t quite understand just yet -- but she’ll ask Chloe about later -- and he has loudly professed how much he loves her enthusiasm.

The room is only half as full as it had been earlier, with a few people still out on their lunch breaks, so Beca allows herself a moment to steal a glance toward Chloe. She’s sitting at her newly assigned work station, typing away on her computer, and looking every bit a member of the team. To say that Beca feels proud is an understatement, and she really wishes she could brag about the other girl to anyone who feels like listening, but she knows she can’t, and she’s okay with it. Beca has never been one for PDA, anyway. She’s just... Proud. Understandably so.

A part of her wants to catch Chloe’s eye, but she knows that’s dangerous, because Beca doesn’t do very well at hiding her own blush, and she’s sure her cheeks would darken at least three shades if the two of them were to make eye contact.

There’s a soft ‘Ping!’ from her computer’s iMessage application, and Beca realizes she’s saved, quite literally, by the bell.

Chloe, 1:34 PM: I know you’re watching me, Becky 😉

Chloe, 1:34 PM: Don’t you have work to do?

And there they go, Beca’s cheeks heating up beneath the soft layer of foundation lightly covering her face. Her lips purse to keep herself from grinning.

Beca, 1:36 PM: What can I say, Cleo. You’re distracting.

Chloe’s soft, unmistakable giggle sounds, though Beca keeps her eyes on her screen, watching the three dots as Chloe types her response.

Chloe, 1:37 PM: Cleo? That’s just pushing it. I think just one of us getting the other’s name wrong will do for now.

Beca, 1:38 PM: Maybe.

Chloe, 1:40 PM: How do you think I’m doing? I feel like it’s going well, but you know these people better than I do. Do you think they hate me yet?

Beca, 1:42 PM: Are you kidding? I don’t think it’s possible for anybody to hate you. And you heard Pritchard earlier, he’s already singing your praises. You’re doing great, Chlo.

Chloe, 1:43 PM: Thank you. Here’s hoping!

Chloe, 1:43 PM: How is your day going? It’s weird being in the same room as you and not talking.

Beca, 1:44 PM: It’s weird being in the same room as you and not touching.

Finally, Beca dares herself to steal another quick glance the other girl’s way, and she sees the way Chloe’s perfectly painted lips are turned upward all over again.

Chloe, 1:46 PM: I know. Mr. Pritchard did show me a perfectly good closet during the tour earlier. The one where all of the filing is kept.

There’s a grin on Beca’s lips as she types her own response, her eyes rolling playfully.

Beca, 1:47 PM: You’re ridiculous.

Chloe, 1:48 PM: I know, I’m kidding.

Chloe, 1:49 PM: I do have some filing to do, though...

Beca freezes up momentarily. Is that a hint? She’s about to ask when she sees the other girl from the corner of her eye rising from her seat. Chloe flashes a charming smile toward one of their coworkers as she passes him by, and at first, she doesn’t make eye contact with Beca. Not until she reaches the door, anyway.

“Um, I’m sorry, I know you’re really busy, but do you think you could show me where to find the bathroom, Becky?”

Gray eyes shoot upward, locking instantly with blue. She shifts her stare briefly around the room, though nobody is batting an eyelid, before fixating it quickly back on Chloe. There’s that charming smile on her face still, it hasn’t faltered even slightly, and against her better judgment, Beca finds herself standing from her seat.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Beca nods, brushing a chunk of mousy hair behind her ear as she makes her way toward the door, the one Chloe has already opened and is standing expectantly beside. “It’s Beca.”

“Oh, sorry. First day, still learning everybody’s names!”

There’s a silence surrounding the two as they exit the room, and while Beca has her doubts, she finds herself trailing along behind the other girl.

“We’re not going to the bathroom, are we?” She questions, brow arching as she keeps up with the redhead’s pace.

Chloe’s answer is simple and bright, it’s chirpy and enthusiastic, every bit the friendly new coworker, “Nope!”

It’s almost ridiculous, the things Beca will do when it comes to Chloe. She takes her job seriously, and she would never do anything to jeopardize it.

...Except have her maybe-girlfriend start working there without her boss’ knowledge. Oh, and potentially make out with her in the filing closet.

It’s a busy building, there are plenty of staff members, all with a constant flow of work to keep on top of, so it’s slightly foreign for the hallway to be as empty as it is, though Beca is grateful for the fact as she continues to follow Chloe, almost stopping and turning back around as she comes to her senses.

But then the redhead is opening up a new door, and turning to flash Beca the smirk she’d held back earlier over her shoulder, and God, Beca swears she feels her insides begin to melt.

“There aren’t cameras in here, right?” Chloe questions as Beca follows her into the room, her tone casual as she scans the upper corners.

“I don’t think so. But people come in and out of here a lot, Chlo. We should probably--”

Before she can even finish her sentence, familiar lips are pressing against her own, the taste of brand new lipstick and everything Chloe Beale hitting her immediately, and Beca’s body relaxes into the feeling, her hands instantly finding their way to Chloe’s waist.

“We should probably..?” Chloe prompts, lips still brushing against Beca’s. Beca knows that she’s teasing, and that if she really didn’t want to do this, Chloe wouldn’t push, but her maybe-girlfriend is like a drug, and Beca is suddenly desperate for her fix.

“We should probably make out a little,” the brunette murmurs into the kiss, pressing her lips more firmly to Chloe’s. She feels the other girl’s curve into a small smile against her own, and Beca knows she’s done for.

For such a small person, Beca is surprisingly strong. It helps that Chloe is pretty light herself, and soon Beca’s grip on her waist is tightening until she can snake her arms around her, pale legs wrapping around her own as she carries the other girl to the nearest surface.

“You could’ve given me a heads up that you were wearing this,” Beca says with a certain amount of urgency as she pulls her lips away from the other’s. Her heart beats wildly in her chest, and her gaze drops downward toward Chloe’s skirt. It has ridden up with the position of her legs wrapped around her, and Beca feels an aching at her center, the need for more pulsing adamantly through her small frame.

“Why?” Chloe’s soft laugh is like music as it falls against Beca’s lips, her arms wrapping with ease around her neck. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it,” Beca huffs, head tilting to the side just a little bit to allow her lips the perfect angle to begin peppering light kisses along Chloe’s jaw. “You look amazing, Chlo.”

How far they’re going to go in here, Beca doesn’t know. She does know that she doesn’t care right now, though. Maybe later she’ll worry about the consequences, which is very much unlike her when it comes to her job, but Chloe is just... She’s Chloe. She’s irresistible, and Beca can’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing right now than trailing open mouthed kisses down toward the redhead’s neck, the sound of her soft, familiar whine vibrating through her throat and against Beca’s lips.

There’s an urgency to Beca’s hushed tone as she allows her teeth to graze lightly over the other girl’s soft skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

Although Chloe’s head is tilted back, Beca feels the way she shakes it. “No,” she husks breathily, “That’s the exact opposite of what I want.”

In hindsight, perhaps Beca really should’ve considered this before. The fact that she and Chloe are very much in that early, honeymoon phase of their relationship, that time where neither can keep their hands to themselves. Not even someplace like this, where it’s vital that they do. But Beca isn’t thinking about that right now, she isn’t thinking about what she should be doing, she’s focusing on what she wants to do, and that just so happens to be sitting on the cabinet in front of her, legs parted perfectly around her own, voice soft and pleading as long fingers work their way into the back of brunette hair.

“You have to try to be quiet, okay?” Beca whispers as her lips continue their downward path, tongue flicking delicately over soft skin as she reaches the other girl’s collarbone.

“I will,” Chloe mumbles, and although Beca isn’t looking at her, she can picture her expression so clearly. The way Chloe’s head is angled backward, red hair draped down her back, eyes hooded and silently begging for more. The mental image makes it almost impossible for Beca to keep her hands to herself, and soon she finds them trailing from around Chloe’s waist and across her inner thighs, the way the other girl’s legs part giving off the impression of silent pleading.

Her own arousal begins to pool between her legs, but Beca’s focus isn’t on herself right now, it’s on the woman sitting before her, on the way her fingers are sliding feather lightly over her skin. It’s hot to the touch, even more so the further she moves up the inside of Chloe’s thigh. The redhead releases a soft, barely audible whimper as Beca’s fingers reach the fabric of her panties, the material invitingly wet.

“Fuck, Chlo,” Beca mutters against her skin, teeth nibbling gently down over familiar goosebumps. “How long have you been wanting this?”

“Since the second I saw you this morning,” Chloe breathes unsteadily, hips pushing ever so slightly forward in an effort to seek more friction.

Beca can take the not-so-subtle hint, two fingers sliding the damp fabric aside and finally meeting with the other girl’s wet center. The action immediately pulls a whimper from the back of Chloe’s throat, and Beca finds herself biting down a little more roughly onto her skin. It’s not her intention to leave a mark, Chloe is just so damn hot, she can’t help herself. The tip of her pointer brushes over her clit, coating it in her arousal, and the aching between her own legs increases tenfold in response to Chloe’s audible reaction.

Accepting Chloe’s promise to stay quiet had definitely been wishful thinking on Beca’s part, or perhaps she was just playing dumb, because they both know just how loud Chloe can be, how forward she is with her verbal responses. It’s really no hardship for Beca to trail her lips back up toward the other girl’s to stifle the sounds beginning to fall almost lazily from them as her finger slides easily inside of her, the instant warmth a welcomed feeling, and truth be told, a total turn on.

As Beca slides her middle finger down Chloe’s swollen clit and toward her center, letting it slip inside of her alongside her pointer, she’s the one to release a soft moan into the other girl’s mouth.

“You’re so hot,” she breathes, and while she knows it’s a less than creative, less than intelligent compliment, it’s exactly what’s on Beca’s mind as her fingers pump in and out of the other girl, her gentle moaning vibrating against her lips.

Beca has been learning Chloe’s body throughout their time together. She knows how to tease her, she knows where to touch her to pull the exact reaction she wants from her, and as much as Beca wants to prolong this, to drag this out for as long as possible and to have Chloe begging her to let her finish, she also has to remember where they are. It’s difficult, given the distraction, but regardless.

It’s really not long before their lips are moving away from one another’s, Chloe’s head falling forward to rest against Beca’s shoulder as she pants as quietly as possible -- it’s not very quiet, but for Chloe, it’s impressive -- and Beca feels the way the other girl’s walls clench tightly around her digits. She removes her wet fingers from her center, allowing the coated tips to stroke delicately over her clit until she knows Chloe has reached her release.

The internal struggle of having to finally pull her fingers away from the other girl is a difficult one, because Beca wants to go again, to deliberately pull louder sounds and more desperate movements from the redhead, but she knows that she can’t, not right now. She can still feel her against her skin as she lifts a hand to settle gently under Chloe’s chin, the last few minutes ingrained in her memory as something she never wants to forget. For a second or two, her gaze washes over Chloe’s face, taking in her expression as she comes down from her euphoric high, and Beca can’t help but feel a little smug. Chloe looks beautiful and vulnerable, and Beca watches her with adoration, before her lips are pressing delicately against the other’s.

“We should probably get back to work,” the brunette finally says, her voice a mumble against the redhead’s lips. It’s even more difficult for her to pull back from the kiss than it was to move her fingers away, but Beca somehow does it, and the expression she’s met with on the other girl’s face is reward enough.

“You’re right,” Chloe breathes, her arms rising to wrap loosely around Beca’s neck once more. “Ugh, I really don’t want to, but you’re right.”

“Mm, I have a tendency to be,” Beca jokes, brows rising and falling in a way that compliments the smug smile still drawn across her lips.

They share another soft, delicate kiss, before Beca finally forces herself to take a step back, arms wrapping around Chloe’s waist to carefully lift her down from the cabinet. Her skirt is still risen, and Beca can’t help her small chuckle as she motions toward it. “You might want to fix that.”

“I was getting to it,” Chloe responds in a light tone, her hands lowering to position her skirt back in place. Beca assumes they’re going to exit the room, though Chloe reaches forward to grasp a fistful of Beca’s shirt, gently tugging her closer. Her lips ghost feather lightly against the brunette’s, and her whispered words cause that familiar aching to return. “You know, I’ve always wanted to do that. Sex with my girlfriend in an office closet.”

“Girlfriend?” Beca questions, her gaze taking in Chloe’s expression as she pulls just slightly back.

The redhead simply nods, her small smile natural, almost bashful in response. It’s a look Beca has never seen before, but that causes her heart to flutter, her stomach to twist with the feeling of a thousand butterflies. “Mm, that’s what I said.”

Beca wants to play it cool, to act like it’s no big deal, but she’s only fooling herself in doing so, and it’s clear that Chloe has already seen the way her cheeks have heated up, her teeth sinking gently into her lower lip. “Good to know.”

For a moment there, Beca had forgotten where exactly they were, but now they were faced with the task of returning to the office as if nothing had transpired, and Beca isn’t so sure her inner actress knows how to do that. But she has to try, and fortunately she has Chloe’s expert lead to follow.

“You go back first, I’ll head back in a couple minutes,” Chloe instructs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. There it is again, that struggle to pull herself away, but Beca eventually does it, her stomach swirling with excitement and undeniable nerves as she makes her way out of the closet and back toward the office.

A part of her expects everybody to stare when she walks back in, as if they’re going to know exactly where she’s been, exactly what she was doing, but she’s met with busy coworkers doing their jobs, just like any other weekday, and Beca feels herself begin to relax as she heads for her desk, pulling out her seat and relaxing back into the rest.

People have returned from lunch by now, Mr. Pritchard included, and Beca’s heart almost stops when Chloe enters the room only moments behind her, with Mr. Pritchard calling her name.

“Chloe,” he greets, walking quickly toward her as she passes Beca’s desk on the way to her own. He knows. Beca is positive that he knows, and she braces herself for the impending chastisement. “How is everything going? Do you feel you’re settling in okay?”

Apparently, Chloe is much more composed than Beca, though that’s really not surprising. She meets Mr. Pritchard with a friendly smile, her head nodding and curls bobbing against her shoulders. “Everything’s going great, Mr. Pritchard.” She glances briefly toward Beca, then back to their boss. “Becky has been extremely helpful.”

The brunette has to bite on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning, though her shoulders relax and she feels the weight of fear removing itself from her body.

“It’s Beca,” she says, clearing her throat. Both sets of eyes move toward her, and Beca shrugs her shoulder almost nonchalantly. “But I mean... Becky is fine too. Whatever.”

[regressionanxiety]

From Russia With Love (1963)

Time for that second Bond movie y’all! Like last time it is basically me recapping the movie with my own comments thrown in so you know, spoilers (also one for the last season of Designated Survivor, because I’m like that). 

Ah after a brief look through the barrel of the gun we enter the classic Bond cold open for the first time! Bond is playing cat and mouse with a broad shouldered blond in a fancy garden with statues and hedges and shit. The blond man pulls a wire out of his watch and strangles Bond, oh no! Flood lights turn on and we see many men wearing the exact same outfit (black on black, turtlenecks). The man is congratulated on his perfect time (1 min 52 sec). Then we take a look at Bond on the ground, wait, it isn’t Bond? It’s a mask! It is another man, still dead though.

INTROTIME! This time it is the credits projected onto a dancing woman's body (007 of course gets the breasts). The great thing about this franchise is that it will never let you forget just how misogynistic it is. 

This time we start in Venice. We know this because there are canalboats and a big sign that says that we’re at “Venice international grandmasters championship” A chess tournament then, and on the board of the next match is a reminder that we are a long time ago and that czechoslovakia is still a thing (also the indoor smoking), just like on one of the maps we had when I was a kid in school because they couldn’t afford to replace it. Anywhoo, Venice, chess.

Scene change, we’re now in a floating lair (a boat or maybe I should say ship, big yacht?), there’s a small aquarium with fish that eat each other, a white cat being petted by hands attached to a man whose face is not yet revealed who is issuing commands to a russian woman. He/they are SPECTRE of course, our old enemy. She is “number three”, he has a hideous ring with the SPECTRE octopus symbol. Number 5 joins them, he is the Czechoslovakian chess player (Kronsteen???) (who won), together they discuss their evil plan. They are stealing some decoding machine from the Russian in order to do so they need a female from the Russian cryptography section in Turkey and British intelligence, they will of course not know that they are being used. Bonus: They may get revenge for the murder of Dr. No. Number 5 has made it obvious that it is a trap because British intelligence won’t be able to resist it. 

Now we’re back at the estate of the opening scene, where fake Bond was killed. Blond Man is tanning on a blanket, a blonde woman is joining him as a helicopter carrying Number 3 arrives. 

Ah, those lazy bottle bleached days...Nr. 3 is looking for a Grant, ostensibly the Mr. Blond. They walk through the tranining facilites and the guy who met Nr. 3 brags about them using live targets on occasion, because training is well and good, but cannot replace experience. She finds him acceptable. I like Nr. 3, she’s a little subvertive (but of course she is evil *eyeroll*). 

Ah, here appears a Russian woman, presumably the aforementioned “female” Tatiana Romanova (wow, such russian). Nr. 3 has reading glasses thicker than coke bottle bottoms.

Those subtitles say “I will obey your orders” and so she will, otherwise she’d be dead. Nr. 3 is not to be trifeld with. Romanova has been hand picked to be a seductress, to Bond presumably. Who we meet in the next scene, he’s in a boat with a woman, Syliva, who caresses a scar on his back and asks if it is from another woman who was jealous, “yes, but I haven’t turned my back on one since” he replies. We met Sylvia in Dr. No, he had to leave for Jamaica then. Their little outing is interrupted by beeping that means Bond must phone the office, which of course needs him, and so Sylvia doesn’t get quite as much attenton as she wanted, but he makes time for some “lunch”.

Back at M’s office they realize it’s a trap (Nr. 5 was clearly  correct in is analysis of British intelligence), but Bond is intrigued once he sees the picture of the stunning Romanova, of course. 

Enter Q, Bond gets toys this time around! Not just a new gun like last time, now he gets a suitcase with twenty hidden rounds of ammunition, a secret throwing knife, and AR7 folding snipers rifle, .25 caliber with infrared telescopic sight, some hidden 50 gold sovereigns in the handle, a tin of talcum powder that is teargas that will explode if you open the suitcase in the normal way, instead Bond must first turn the catches horizontally, then open normally. Bond thinks this is ridiculous.

Then he says goodbye to Miss Moneypenny with the traditional flirtation that goes nowhere and gets his plane ticket to Istanbul, gives Miss Moneypenny the picture of Romanova and writes “from Russia with love” on it. Oh Bond...

 He lands in Istanbul and someone is following him already, because of course they are, two mustached men as well as the SPECTRE hired Grant. The mustaches are hunagrians hired by the russians according to the driver, “they follow us, we follow them, it’s a sort of understanding we have.”

The driver takes him to Kerim Bey, who says the driver is is son, so are all his top employees because blood is the only thing to be trusted. I think he is in for a rude awakening at some point. Kerim warns him that it is a foolish endeavor and that he should spend a few days enjoying Istanbul and then go home. 

We see Grant again, with someone gagged and bound in the back seat. Bond goes to his hotel, and it’s no dump, he’s in room 32, and it comes wired with bugs, luxurious! Bond asks for a new room because “the bed is to small”, they agree to show him the bridal suite

Meanwhile Grant dumps the car and the body of the man in the back outside the Russian consulate (I think), so that they will suspect the British, and as Nr. 3 says “the cold war in Istanbul won’t be cold very much longer”

The next morning Ali Kerim Bey’s office is bombed as he’s about to have sex with a woman who moaned his name until he put his papers down and gave her attention. She’s a spy for sure, because he’s not that interesting. Bond shows up later and he and Kerim Bey go down under the building, where there is some underground cave/channel and a boat (and rats). 

Kerim Bey has a fuckin telescope under the Russian consulate! He runs through who is who, including the beautiful Romanova. They decide it is best Bond doesn’t go back to his hotel. Now they trick their tail and go visit Kerim Bey’s “Gypises” who he uses “Like the Russians use the Bulgars” this is going to be some racist stereotypical nonsense isn’t it?

Some Russians (one of them they saw in the telescope and is probably the guy who made the mine that blew up Kerim Bey’s office) are up to something, seeing Bond & Kerim Bey’s arrival.

Ah yes, two girls are in love with same man and are threatening to kill each other, it will be settled in the “gypsy way” whatever that is. Kerim Bey and Bond are invited to a table with them “I hope you are good at eating with your fingers,” he tells Bond. Ah, of course, belly dancing, a lil throwback to the intro credits that.

While Bond is being entertained, the Russians are creeping in. Mr. Grant of SPECTRE is also lurking about. The two women who are in love with the same man fights each other, just as one has a bottle over the other’s head the Russians crash the party. Fighting ensues, Bond saunters through with ease, or the secret aid of one SPECTRE agent who needs him alive long enough to aid with the decipher acquisition. Remember Bond has yet to meet Romanova, he’s only been here one night! 

Bond has saved their leaders life, and is now “his son”, and asks if they can’t stop the “girl fight” - Oh Bond, they don’t need you you ass. The man says he can decide. 

They are delivered to his tent and he is told to decide, it fades out to him saying “this might take som time” followed by a Connery smirk (he’s a very pouty man isn’t he? Also he’s in his thirties here...)

Bond and Kerim Bey go to take out the Russian who attacked the, since Kerim Bey has been shot, Bond has brought his little folding rifle. Kerim Bey insists on shooting even though he only has one arm. Bond lets him. There is a secret hatch in the wall, opening in the mouth of a woman who is postered there, ample opportunity for some jokes about her pretty mouth that...

Bond is back at his hotel now, doing the most human thing I’ve seen him do, kick of his shoes. Then he orders breakfast for one at nine, green figs, yogurt and coffee, very black. He slowly undresses and makes his way towards the bathroom, he sniffs something strange in the air. THen he hears thumps. He grabs his gun and goes to check it out, wearing nothing but a towel.

Enter Romanova. Naked, in bed. They greet, he tells her she is beautiful, she tells him she think her (very small) mouth is too big, he thinks it is just the right size and they kiss, or rather he kinda rubs his mouth against her. Really, I never enjoy kissing on screen, but Connery is terrible at it. He asks her for blueprints of the consulate, she promises it, but they will fuck first. She’s got one job, lay back and think of Russia. Nr. 3 & Grant are outside filming. It’s a porn now, I’m sure you can track down a recreation of this as an actual porn somewhere, rule 34 and all that. 

I hope his dick is better than his kisses Ms. Romanova. The next day Romanova and Bond meet at St. Sophia, the Russian’s Ukrainan is following. Tourists are getting a very monotonous tour. Grant takes care of the Ukraininan as she’s about to steal the information left for Bond. 

Bond & Kerim Bey have a chat about how mysterious it was with the Ukraininan, and Bond also says that Romanova will do anything for him, Kerim Bey does not believe that, he’s sure she’s a double agent. Bond says he only wants the dechiffrerer anyway, Kerim Bey asks “is that all?” and they have a chuckle. 

Bond & Romanova meet on a boat, he has a camera that is really a tape recorder and he asks her questions about the decoding machine. She asks if he will make love to her in Englan, he says yes and we see M and the rest of the office listening to the tape. M ends up throwing Miss Moneypenny out of the room, she looks like she’s about to start laughing. She of course can listen in via the intercom at her desk, M. knows this and asks her to send Bond a “cable”. M. gives Bond the go-ahead for the deal over the decoder. Bond tells Romanova it will be on the fourteenth, not the thirteenth, even though it will be.  

Bond walks into the russian consulate, a convenient bomb, set off by Kerim Bey in the tunnels below, causes chaos and he seeks out Romanova and the device. They escape down into the tunnels, but oh no, the rats!

They must go another way than inteded, Kerim Bey leads the way! They escape the Russians aboard a train, but Gran is of course there, they are playing straight into his hands, oh no! Will Bond get out of this pickle? The question should really be will Kerim Bey and Romanova get out of it.

One of the russians got onto the train after all, Benz, and they seek him out, stuff a handkerchief in his mouth and Kerim Bey sits down with him, to keep him company until it is time to get off. Well, that is until Kerim Bey is murdered. Grant of course, but they seem to think the Russian and Kerim Bey did each other in. Bond takes Kerim’s yellow cigarette holder or whatever, and looks sad. He has lost a friend.

 The train trundles past Kerim’s son who is supposed to pick them up along the tracks and he is confuse. Bond takes out his upset on Romaonova, demanding the truth from her. 

At six thirty-three the train arrives in Beograd. Where another of Kerim’s sons await, getting terrible news. Grant is doing his usual lurking about. Bond gives the son Kerim’s items and jumps back onboard. Next stop: Zagreb, where Bond asked someone to meet him, but Grant takes the mans place. They re-board. Bond sends Grant (maquerading as Captain Nash) and Romanova ahead of him to the restaurant wagon. Then proceeds to sneak into Nash’s suitcase. 

During the meal Grant spills Romanova’s drink, refills with a little something extra. Pretty sure Bond sees it, but lets it pass. Romanova feels unwell on the way back. They put her to bed, then Bond puts a gun to Grant, who smooth talks his way out of it, shows Bond a map and stuns him with the handle of his gun (a lot of that going round in this movie). They’re in the same space as the suitcase with the tear gas, and I’m sure Bond is going to get out of this pickle by tricking him to opening it so that the tear gas booms him. 

Now for the villain tells too much talk! yay! I love these, they’re so ridiculous (spoiler for Designated survivor, in season three when Maggie Q’s character is just killed with a comment about how in real life that’s not how it goes, I was howling, and crying as she was the only reason I bothered watching still, very okay with it being cancelled). Bond is being a classist prick as usual and says he should have known since Grant ordered red wine with fish (PS. I’ve drank an entire bottle of cheap red as I watched this, hence the deterioration in uh, quote accuracy and “proper” language). Bond is all “you SMERSH people” smh, but then realizes that, no of course, SPECTRE! Ah, acronym soup.

I still can’t believe this guy is in his thirties here. Anywhoo. Grant says “I don’t mind talking, I get a kick out of watching Mr. Bond finding out what a bloody fool he’s been making of himself. We’re pro’s Mr. Bond.” 1. If you were pro’s you would have shot Bond already 2. I’m sure he’ll use that damn suitcase against you! Grant admits that Romanova doesn’t know she’s working for SPECTRE, that she believes she is doing this for SMERSH. Grant also calls Bond “old man” and who is older? I cannot tell. 

Here we go, Bond tricking him to opening the suitcase by promising him the 50 sovereigns. Fighting time! Here comes Grant’s watch wire, but Bond isn’t so easily offed when he’s real aaaand he off’s Grant with the very same wire. Beautiful. Bond then takes his cash and calls Grant’s body “old man”. I’m ded. 

The train starts hooting, there’s a truck on the tracks. Bond grabs the half conscious Romanova and drags her off the train with him. She falls asleep under a bush. He sneaks around some more, looking to get Grant’s men. He knocks one out, ties him up, throws him in the truck. Then he throws Romanova on a literal (truck) bed of flowers before getting in the truck himself. They’re driving off in the night, then the day. A yellow tailed helicopter, suspiciously like the noe nr. 3 arrived in when she picked up Grant comes at them. Bond runds around and let the helicopter chase him. This is terrible. Alright scenery though.

Bond hides in a convenient rock formation and brings out his rifle again. Guy in helicopter is about to throw down a hand grenade, but Bond and his .25 rifle shots him in the arm so he drops the grenade INSIDE THE HELICOPTER

Once again Bond survives through luck. Now they’ve arrived at a boat (still following Grant’s escape route I guess) and the driver is out of luck, once they’ve reached full speed Bond pushes him overboard. They’re headed for Venice (from Croatia if I’m not mistaken). 

Cut to the floating lair of guy with white cat, where nr. 3 and 5 are meeting with him, and she, of course, gets blamed for the failure, despite having  followed the plan. She says Bond was the reason, but five won’t hear it. That poor cat isn’t being petted right. She thinks she’ll be killed now, but instead guy with cat (number one) gives five a kick with a poisoned blade that came out of his boot. Three is now very keen on getting Bond so she will live. 

 Now Bond is in a boat chase, the chasers shoot out all the fuel barrels. So Bond lets them all plop into the ocean, then makes them go boom with a signal gun. I’m not sure that’s how that works, but okay. They loose their chasers. 

Now we’ve come full circle, back where we started. Venice. Hotel room. Maid shows up, pretty sure it’s number three here to steal something. A time for Romanova to figure out her loyalties. She picks Bond. I must admit I’m a bit sad, three was a good character to root for, but only if she ran her own evil empire.

“James, behave yourself, we are being filmed.”

“Oh, not again.”

THE END. 

except not quote because James Bond will retur in GOLDFINGER. See ya soon Mr. Bond. 

[hxwboutadance]

ANNABETH answers...

mentions: @thctgolden , @walkingmxuth​ , @wxrkerbees​ , @kingofnxwyxrk​ 

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

Probably my mom or dad. Definitely wasn’t reciprocated...Oh, wait, never mind. Riff and I had a nice little moment at that party. Now I remember why I keep him around. I’m not really an ‘I love you’ girl. If I care about someone, I show it with actions instead of words. Anyone can say ‘I love you’ and not mean it. 

04: Are you insecure?

Why would I have to be insecure? I’m killing the game at work and I’m doing it all while no one thinks I can. Not to brag, but I’m sort of a badass...Yeah, I try not to think about it though...

08: Played any sports?

I used to play sand volleyball all the time. I don’t have much time for it now, but maybe I should think about getting back into it. It was a ton of fun. People don’t tend to think of me as athletic because I usually prefer to use my brain over brawn, but I’m pretty kick ass. I got my black belt when I was 13. 

09: Do you bite your nails?

To the nubs. It’s actually kind of gross...

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

Just the jerks at my office. They’re the worst kind: misogynistic assholes who don’t think I’m capable of doing the job because I’m a woman. Meanwhile, they’re being lead by the biggest prick I’ve ever met and they think he’s some kind of king. It might be time to look for a new firm...

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

Oof, it’s been too long...I sort of suck at dating. Maybe my last relationship? Which ended....pretty badly. Thanks to me. But Davey is a good kisser, so it was pretty nice.

31: Does somebody love you?

Yeah. Someone definitely does. See the good convo with Riff above. He’s been the only one recently who’s, like, said it out loud. There may be more, but I’m not asking around. That’s not me. But I have my handful of good friends and we don’t have to say we love each other to know. 

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

Damn, I don’t really remember dreams. Let’s see...I dreamt about my old friend, Thalia, a lot. She was a friend I had back in school who died in a car accident when she was only 16. Pretty much one of the greatest friends I will ever have. I miss her....a whole lot.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

What? No! Of course no! 

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

What I always do. Put a glass of water by my bed before I read a little as I fall asleep. Pretty standard bedtime routine, if you ask me. Hydrate or diedrate. 

58: Favourite weather?

Probably fall. Sweater weather is better weather, after all. Look, I’m a sucker for a big sweaters, hot drinks and snuggling up with a good book by a fire. 

59: Do you like the snow?

It’s a bitch to travel through, but it’s nice to look at while you’re inside. With the heat on. When you know you don’t have to go outside in it at all.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Hmm...this guy, Percy is actually proving really interesting to talk to. I thought he was an idiot at first, and don’t get me wrong he totally is, but...he’s more than that. 

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

I’m not really one for the deep conversations. You know who understands that better than anyone? Miss Kat Plumber. She’s my favorite person to not have deep conversations with. We just dominate at trivia and take shots of the tears of our competitors. 

justice: favorite color of rose?

Not a big rose fan, but greenery is kind of cool. If I had to pick, white I guess?

death: what are three things you want to do before you die?

SEE MONUMENTS. Athena Parthenon, the Pantheon, and the Taj Mahal are my top three. Oh, um...change the world too, I guess.

temperance: can you describe a strange dream you’ve had?

Sometimes I swear my mom talks to me in my dreams. Usually it’s her telling me what a disappointment I am, but you know...what are you gonna do? Resent someone for something they said in a dream? Okay, I do do that but I’m not proud of it...

the moon: have you ever written a love letter?

HA! Definitely not. Love is for suckers. 

the sun: do you believe in magic?

Nope. There is always a logical explanation for ‘magic’. 

the world: do you like waking up early?

Actually, yeah. It’s nice to have a quiet moment as you start to wake up. Not sure if it’s like that for everyone, but you know...single perks. Woo...

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] TsukiPro Yaminabe Drama Track 5 - “Gray Fate”

AH!! I completely forgot to post this translation! I had it in my Word drafts and I was going through them thinking like I was forgetting something orz Anyway, here it is~! You’ll bear witness to doting Papa Kurotsuki Dai in this drama track~! They also talk a lot about destiny www 

The focus is on the managers this time around~! After this will be Arata’s drama tracks and the rest of the Yaminabe Vol. 2 tracks~ 

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission. Please just like/reblog them instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

Track 05: [灰色の運命] “Gray Fate”

[0:00]

  KUROTSUKI: (sighs) My oshis, Procella, were super cute and cool today, too~!

HAIDUKI: I won’t deny that they were but, are you alright in the head?

KANADE: (nervous chuckle) Haiduki, your real thoughts are coming out.

KUROTSUKI: Hey, you guys!

HAIDUKI: (laughs) I was just kidding!

KUROTSUKI: Geez, this is my happy time admiring the unit I’m in charge of, you know?

KUROTSUKI: Don’t make fun of me for it.

KUROTSUKI: I mean, look! Look, Haiduki! Look at this magazine that was sold today~!

(Kurotsuki waves a magazine in front of Haiduki)

KUROTSUKI: It started with a poster but now, the special feature for them is 26 pages!

KUROTSUKI: There’s multiple pages for each of them~!

HAIDUKI: Oh~? Isn’t that amazing?

KUROTSUKI: Man, for real~!! When I think of how the little baby birds I was raising then would be given a special feature like this, I~

KUROTSUKI: (sighs dreamily) It makes me reminisce~

HAIDUKI: (quietly) It’s not like… I’m jealous or anything.

KANADE: (chuckles before whispering to Haiduki) I’m so sorry about Kurotsuki being so lively, Haiduki.

HAIDUKI: Ah, no, it’s okay!

KANADE: I think that’s a coping mechanism for him.

HAIDUKI: Coping…?

KANADE: Hm… It seems like his mother back home kept grinding him about when he’ll get married or if he already has a girlfriend and all that.

HAIDUKI: Ah, I see now. Kurotsuki-san’s mother does send matchmaking pictures to the agency.

HAIDUKI: I’m pretty sure she really wants him to get married. That mountain of files on Kurotsuki-san’s desk…

HAIDUKI: Weren’t they all matchmaking pictures?

KANADE: Hm… I have met his mother and greeted her but normally, she’s a very kind and compassionate woman.

KANADE: But, lately… There have been people bragging about their grandchildren in their neighbourhood so… You know…?

HAIDUKI: Hm, I understand the situation now. People marry early in local areas like that and it’s like marriage is an absolute must-do thing, huh?

HAIDUKI: Kurotsuki-san’s hometown is in Aomori, isn’t it?

KANADE: Yeah, and so…

KUROTSUKI: Ah~! This cut is so cool! Maybe I’ll take it with me and decorate my room with it~

KUROTSUKI: This is what they call a manager’s privilege, right~? AHAHAHAHAHA!!!

KANADE: His super doting “I love my children~” is worse than normal…

HAIDUKI: Isn’t that just called “running away from reality”?

KANADE: (chuckles) I won’t correct you there.

[02:33]

  HAIDUKI: Kurotsuki-san, who’s my senpai as a manager, and is seven years older than I am is—

HAIDUKI: His former job was an SP, a bodyguard in the Metropolitan Police Department’s special defences department.

HAIDUKI: He was a policeman in charge of protecting important people, in other words.

HAIDUKI: That man who has a strange history of professions, stands taller than me even though I’m already 180 cm tall.

HAIDUKI: He’s a good man with a good build.

HAIDUKI: Since he is often in shot on camera with those important people, it seems like he worked on having a manly build fitting for an SP. He’s pretty smart, too.

HAIDUKI: And yet these past years, not only does he have no girlfriend but he doesn’t seem to be interested at all.

HAIDUKI: And because of his mother’s fretting, his desk has slowly become a stockpile of matchmaking session pictures.

HAIDUKI: Normally, it’s one’s own decision if they want to get married or not. I think it’s no big deal if one chooses not to get married but…

HAIDUKI: It’s undeniable that his “papa tendencies” towards the unit he’s in charge of has increased since he passed 30 years old.

HAIDUKI: Before, we joked about calling our units our “kids” but lately, he’s been taking it so seriously…

(Haiduki starts remembering what Kurotsuki once told him)

KUROTSUKI: My kids are so cute…!

HAIDUKI: (sighs) Honestly, it’s a bit scary…

HAIDUKI: Of course, since he’s a capable manager, he never excessively dotes on his unit when they’re on set.

HAIDUKI: But, when he’s talking about them, it’s like he’s a different person and his eyes shine so proudly.

HAIDUKI: Excited and sparkling eyes, really.

HAIDUKI: And I slightly, just slightly, understand why his mother, who probably wants to do the same thing, would want to tell him to hurry up and get married so he can have his own kids.

[04:45]

  KUROTSUKI: Shun’s as carefree as usual and the photographer had a bit of trouble giving instructions to him but, it’s because of his very playful heart that they could come up with something like this! Isn’t that amazing~?!

KUROTSUKI: Look, look! They look so amazing~! They’re works of art, right~??

KUROTSUKI: Man, it’s cute, huh~? It’s troubling, isn’t it~? My kids are so cute and so cool!

HAIDUKI: Please calm down, Father.

KUROTSUKI: As if I can! It’s my children’s best looks yet, got it?

HAIDUKI: It’s not rare for Procella to get featured in magazines, you know?

KUROTSUKI: You don’t understand! You just can’t, Haiduki!

KUROTSUKI: No matter how small an article it is or no matter how small the picture is, every page of my kids’ best looks are important!

HAIDUKI: Yes, yes. I understand that it’s special but please, arrange the papers on your desk. Some of them are spilling over to my desk.

HAIDUKI: I’ll throw them away if you don’t.

(Kurotsuki panics and stands up quickly from his chair)

KUROTSUKI: AHHH!!! YOU GLASSES-WEARING FIEND!

HAIDUKI: Glasses-wearing fiend?!

KANADE: Please let him off the hook, Haiduki. I said this a while ago but Kurotsuki’s been tired lately.

KANADE: He got a very long call from his mother right after he came back from a location shoot.

KANADE: It seemed like they talked for three hours about why he won’t go to a matchmaking session.

KANADE: He’s a bachelor who just wants to escape from reality.

HAIDUKI: I guess you’re right~

HAIDUKI: But really? For three hours? That’s kinda like a long movie already, huh?

KUROTSUKI: Don’t say it! Don’t make me remember! I’m in the middle of doting on my cute children!

HAIDUKI: Eh…? Kurotsuki-san… Aren’t you being teary-eyed…?

KUROTSUKI: I’m not crying! Even though I want to…!

HAIDUKI: (nervous chuckle) There, there. The people of the Kurotsuki Household are passionate in a lot of ways, huh?

HAIDUKI: Their love is deep or rather… Heavy, I should say…?

KUROTSUKI: Don’t say it! I’ve started thinking that, too…

KANADE: (chuckles) Kurotsuki, how about trying to go to one matchmaking session at least?

KUROTSUKI: Impossible!

KANADE: Why? If you go to one, won’t your mom feel at ease for a bit? You might get to meet someone great, you know?

KANADE: Maybe they’ll be your “destined person” or something similar~

HAIDUKI: Destiny? Kurotsuki-san, you were wishing to meet your soulmate?

KUROTSUKI: Sh-shut up! It’s not bad to wish, right? In any case, a matchmaking session is a no-go!

KANADE: It’s okay! We’re not telling you to abandon those feelings. We’re just saying to try a matchmaking session once in a while.

KANADE: Your destiny and romance might be waiting beyond, you know~?

KUROTSUKI: If I say it’s impossible then, it’s impossible!

KANADE: (laughs) You’re so hard to convince, huh? I don’t think it’s something you should reject strongly though.

HAIDUKI: He’s right, Kurotsuki-san. Don’t say that love can’t happen in a matchmaking session.

HAIDUKI: It’s a great way to meet, too, after all.

HAIDUKI: How about entertaining your mom’s wishes once in a while instead of just focusing on work?

KANADE: Yeah. My parents got married via matchmaking session, too. They get along very well even now.

KUROTSUKI: EH?!

HAIDUKI: (suddenly standing up) Is that true?!

KANADE: Yeah, it is.

KUROTSUKI/HAIDUKI: I can imagine…

KANADE: E-eh…? Is it even common to have parents who got married via a matchmaking session?

HAIDUKI: Ah, no, somehow… It’s the atmosphere…?

KUROTSUKI: You might think this laughable but…

HAIDUKI: Hm?

KUROTSUKI: I think this is fate, too.

KANADE: “This” being?

KUROTSUKI: My meeting with Procella.

KUROTSUKI: It might not be with a “soulmate” and all but, I think that this is destiny, too.

KUROTSUKI: I mean, even though it’s not love or if we’re not related, to be able to think “I want to treasure them!” or “I want to support them!”… I think it’s kind of like fate, too.

KUROTSUKI: No, it’s destiny without a doubt.

KANADE: Kurotsuki…

HAIDUKI: Kurotsuki-san…

KUROTSUKI: That’s why… I want to spend more time with this “destiny” of mine. Just to see how far I can go with them, you know?

HAIDUKI/KANADE: (smiles)

KANADE: Kurotsuki…

HAIDUKI: Kurotsuki-san.

HAIDUKI/KANADE: Your love is too heavy.

KUROTSUKI: WHAT?! That’s how you react?! This is where you’re supposed to be moved since you’re both managers, too!

KUROTSUKI: Listen, you guys! As a manager—

(Kurotsuki knocks the coffee on his desk and it spills on his papers)

KUROTSUKI: AH!

(Things continue to get knocked off his desk)

KUROTSUKI: AHHHHHH!!!!!!

HAIDUKI: W-wait, Kurotsuki-san!

KANADE: Ahhh, go get some tissues!

KUROTSUKI: My precious magazine!!!

(Kurotsuki begins sobbing loudly)

KANADE: This is because you were getting too wild.

HAIDUKI: I told you to not— Just hurry and bring some tissues, come on!

(Their voices fade out)

[09:34]

  HAIDUKI: Hm… Destiny, huh…

SHIKI: Haiduki, is something wrong?

HAIDUKI: Ah. (chuckles) Just a little something.

SHIKI: Hm? Ah, what is it?

HAIDUKI: Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how you have the eyes of a music idiot. (smiles)

SHIKI: Huh? You’re being rude all of a sudden.

HAIDUKI: (laughs)

HAIDUKI: Those narrow and straightforward eyes are definitely the eyes of a music idiot.

HAIDUKI: They look dull but they’re very sharp and yet sometimes, it’s the opposite.

HAIDUKI: He’s a music idiot and a work-a-holic to boot. He was my co-worker before but now, he’s the leader of the unit I’m in charge of.

HAIDUKI: I think that his simple honesty towards people is really very fun. He’s that kind of guy.

HAIDUKI: That kind of guy made a unit and I, under direct orders of the President, became their manager.

HAIDUKI: They’re all very unique on their own but, unlike me, they’re kinda like me when it comes to not bearing any ill will at all.

HAIDUKI: They’re all beautiful, they’re smart, and their personalities are… Well, they’re quite honest.

HAIDUKI: No matter what angle you look at it from, it looks like they’re all living the easy life and yet, they’re a unit who was formed because they’re all still somewhat awkward and pure.

HAIDUKI: That’s who SolidS is.

[11:25]

  HAIDUKI: Hey, Shiki. Do you think that “destiny” exists?

SHIKI: Hm? That’s pretty sudden. Did you fall in love at first sight in a bar again?

HAIDUKI: Again, you say. You sure bring up some old stuff. That’s from a pretty long time ago, isn’t it?

SHIKI: As if I’d know. You’re a guy who’s fickle and has a lot of love to give after all.

HAIDUKI: What sort of false information is that? I’m unexpectedly wholehearted, you know?

HAIDUKI: So? Shiki, do you believe that destiny exists?

SHIKI: … “Destiny” sounds dramatically romantic but, at the same time, it’s fickle and unreasonable.

SHIKI: That’s why, I don’t overthink too much on the topic of destiny.

SHIKI: Destiny is something you grab with your own power.

SHIKI: Though, I might put something different if it’s for a lyric.

HAIDUKI: (laughs) That answer’s so like you!

SHIKI: I feel like I’m being made fun of if you laugh after I answered but… You’re the one who asked, aren’t you?

HAIDUKI: I’m not making fun of you. I just—I just really felt like laughing after thinking that answer is something you’d definitely say.

SHIKI: Isn’t that normally making fun of someone?

HAIDUKI: There, there~ It means “It’s so like Shii-kun that it’s wonderful~”

SHIKI: Hm. I wonder why I can’t honestly accept it when Fumi-chan says it like that~?

HAIDUKI: You’re so mean~

  HAIDUKI: I don’t know if being with SolidS is my destiny or not.

HAIDUKI: But… I’ll make sure to work my best to make it my own destiny.

HAIDUKI: It’s true that it’s fun providing back-up for them. To someone like me who rarely gets excited over anything, that much is already amazing.

HAIDUKI: It might be enough.

HAIDUKI: I… I put my destiny in my own hands with my own power.

  ==END==

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission. Please just like/reblog them instead ^^

[dandyfics]

taste ; lee minho ☆

━━☆

— summary: as many say, even the smallest things can create small clusters of happiness. what if that happiness comes from somewhere familiar? perhaps the local creamery you’ve grown too fond of?

— genre: fluff, a whole lot of fluff, ft. other skz members — pairings: ice-cream boy!minho x office worker!reader — word count: 2.6k — warnings: explicit language, cursing 

— author note: beware of spelling & grammar errors ! this was based on some random sub reddit so uhm– it doesn’t really have a theme ?? but i hope you enjoy my first **published** fic nonetheless bubs ! and of course, gender neutral !

You hate Mondays. The endless demands from your co-workers to grab some coffee, the hideous traffic anywhere you go, your boss shouting like a bewildered orangutan, and of course the ravenous feeling that washes in your stomach. You fear that you’re not going to make it by the time lunch break rolls in.

Obviously, this doesn’t only apply on Mondays. But the fateful day decided to be a special snowflake to you and your work ethic, which makes it ten times shittier than any other day. Not to mention the hefty piles of paperwork that you need to finish at home before August. A year into the work experience in Seo’s Publishing & Co. and you still struggle to get that promotion you’ve been opting since January. At least they pay you well.

But you weren’t alone on that exact Monday. Summer and it’s endless supplies of heat waves decided to enter your life before you even know it. As Han Jisung likes to say, what a great time to be alive. Not.

“It’s so fucking hot.” Felix limps on his desk chair, frantically fanning himself with a big blue binder. You, on the other hand, already prepared long before with two hand fans screeching atop your desk. “Why is the AC off?”

“Because Mr. Seo said ‘fuck global warming’, which is ironic since his office has two air conditioners that are always on,” Kim Seungmin says, plopping on his chair before turning on his brand new industrial fan that he keeps on bragging about since the beginning of July, claiming that he’s got the weather ‘under control’. Felix doesn’t respond at this rate, instead, he oggles weirdly at the fan Seungmin got from God-knows-where.

You groan miserably. “Turn that damn thing off, you’re perpetuating hot air onto my face.”

“I’ll do that. Once Jisung stops wasting all the cold air from the fridge.”

“I swear to God, Han. If you eat my frozen waffle once again.” Typical Felix who will always protect his food. That kid will protect his cream cheese bagel even if WWIII decided to occur.

Jisung frowns childishly. “It’s just too hot. I’m evaporating, literally.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m in the room.” Hwang Hyunjin merrily waltzes into the conversation, earning a few annoyed gazes and grouses from his co-workers.

“Choke on a baguette.” Seungmin grunts, throwing a crumpled printer paper at him. “Your presence isn’t needed here anymore, not after that promotion of yours.” Hyunjin smiles smugly, taking a sip from his ‘Best Uncle’ coffee cup. 

Yearly promotions have gotten a toll on you, ever since Hyunjin got his place as the assistants’ assistant, he’s been moved to the 3rd-floor cubicle; located right next to the main office, which – you’ve guessed it – is completed with a working air conditioner. Big headed Hyunjin has and will never stop mentioning it. ‘We’ll stay together till one of us gets fired’ my ass.

“You’re just jealous because I earned that cool cubicle on the 3rd floor. Unlike y’all peasants who rely on factory industry fans.” Hyunjin scoffs, emphasizing on the last sentence. Seungmin chokes on his coffee mug.

“You got a problem with Becky?”

“It has a name?” Jisung half-whispers at you, earning a shrug.

“Shut up, Hyunjin, just go back to your fancy little office and do your five stacks of paperwork that you haven’t touched since last week.” You quip, earning a high five from Felix. “Oh, and neither your niece nor nephew likes you, Hwang.”

Hyunjin gasps dramatically, hiding his graphic cup from your sight. “How DARE you.” Jisung cackles his ass off as if he’s enjoying some random Netflix show, watching Hyunjin as he takes an indignant sip from his cup whilst trying to explain that his niece just ‘mildly dislike him and nothing more’. You – being the only one with a sane state of mind – take a glance at the clock.

“Oh, shit. It’s already 12.” You murmur. “Anyone down to get out and grab lunch? I’m not talking to you, Hyunjin.” Felix goes in for another cheeky high five as Hyunjin flouts.

Seungmin pushes his glasses from the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Look, Y/N. As hungry as I am, I’m not going to burn into a crisp of bacon outside in this weather.” He retorts, continuing on his Pdf file. “Fun fact, it’s almost 34° Celcius outside. I’d rather starve to death than sweat to death.” Jisung sheepishly agrees, engulfing in the cold fridge air.

You turn to Felix sympathetically, expecting him to join you. “Can’t you see that I’m hyperventilating?” Felix whines like a wet dog, thudding his head repeatedly on his messy desk. You click your tongue at the pathetic sight.

“Okay, so no one’s gonna join me?” You ask for the last time. Rethinking again about getting burned in the midst of the July air. Was it worth it? Should you really drag one of your co-workers in the ungodly weather?

Silence.

You huff, disappointed lacing your features as a genius idea draws onto your mind. “Well, I’m heading to the creamery near the park. Don’t come at me trying to get a lick from my rocky-road cone.”

“Shit, ice cream sounds great right now!” Jisung squeaks from the floor.

“Please, Y/N, can you get me the mint chocolate one? I need something to cool me off.” Felix jolts from his seat seemingly refreshed and youthful again. Seungmin cheers from his desk, presumably also in the mood for something cold and creamy. Hyunjin screeches like a pterodactyl from the corner of your eye, screaming something about chocolate.

Your co-workers haven’t really grown up, have they?

“Suddenly I’m your servant? Nice try.” You reply playfully, raising an eyebrow at your half-melting co-workers. They all groan in unison. “Nothing is free. Everything comes with a pri–”

Jisung surges from his butt. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you dinner. Chinese at that place you always wanted to visit!” He offers, making the others try to think of a better deal than his. “Only if you get me the cheesecake ice cream.”

Seungmin follows up. “Y/N, if you get me a cup of cookies and cream, I’ll finish reviewing that book for you. Oh, and also a stack of your paperwork. What do you say?” Jisung boos at Seungmin’s boring choice of flavor.

“I’ll give you a foot massage!” Felix adds.

“Tempting.” You snicker smugly before turning to Hyunjin. “Aren’t you going to offer me something, Hwang? Anything?”

Hyunjin avoids eye contact with you before crooning. “Fine, I’ll give you a ride in my convertible for the rest of the month.” You mentally tap yourself in the back for getting great deals just for a bucket of cheap ice cream. Drastic time does require drastic measures, they say. You grab your bag and walk towards the elevator with a jolly good feeling.

“You all got yourself a deal. Better be ready for that foot massage, Lix.”

Dori Creamery. The sweet scent of vanilla and cream whiffs onto you as you walk near the entrance. You spent almost all of your college days being a customer in the said creamery. The place is medium sized, petite but fancy. The light neapolitan colors being the aesthetic of the shop brings back all the memories. You recall the seconds when you had your first date, celebrating your graduation with a cup of mango-sorbet, and your heartbreak spent accompanied by a tube of berry delight.

You liked the place. No, you loved the place. Hints of nostalgia always hit you whenever you enter the calming aura of the room, only this time, the creamery is packed with people. And not just any people; sweaty, loud, body-odor inducing people.

You managed to squeeze in the back of the line, avoiding the nasty body-sweat that lingers around. You can also go to another shop, but hey, where’s the fun in that? If you can’t even get some ice cream, what’s even the point?

“Excuse me, coming through.” You mumble as some guy nearly bumps you out of the line. The whiff of wind in the room is prominent, but the body heat everyone seems to be sharing nearly evaporates you apart.

You opted on scrolling through your phone while you wait for the person at the very front to make up their mind about ‘I’m on a low sugar diet but I really want to try the strawberry shortcake, should I?’. After a while, the line started to dry out, until there’s only you and a few others before you.

Everything was fine and dandy until you feel a force coming from beside you, nearly shoving you down to the floor. “Hey, what the hell?” You scold. A woman suddenly stands in front of you, cutting your precious time and line.

“I’m in a hurry.” She claims, whipping her head to decide on her order.

If you’re in a hurry why the fuck did you stop for ice cream?  A rasp of vexation coils in you, leaving you to do nothing but scowl at the woman. The heat isn’t helping either. A part of you wanted to flip everything off – including the woman – but you remind yourself that you’re no cavemen and it’s just some ice cream, it’s no big deal.

You couldn’t do much but sigh and wait for your turn, hoping that no one else would do something as ignorant as she did. Not even a single sorry? Great, just what you needed.

The woman finally decided on a pistachio order and storms off with a receipt in one hand and a double-scoop cone on the other. You irkly glance before walking towards the counter, repeating the order in your head.

“Uh, hi. I would like a cone of–”

“Rocky road with whipped cream?”

“Yeah, that. And– wait, how did you know?” You eyed the cashier, who’s smiling meekly at you. Nearly staring in awe, you almost forget about the whole order after meeting the enthralling smile painted on his face. “Do I… know you?”

He chuckles lightly, handing his co-worker a slip of paper. “No, it’s just that you always order that. Don’t you ever get bored of it?”

“It’s too good to be bored with.” You say, beaming idly. Finally, a nice–decent human being with good manners. “So, you’re not new here?” You mention, raising an eyebrow. The boy beams, reminding you of the Cheshire Cat – mere charisma laced in his smile. 

He shakes his head, denying your question. “Actually, I own this place.”

Your eyes widen. “Really? How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” The boy teases. “I mostly work at the kitchen, perfecting my secret recipe. But I always know my customers.” He playfully answers. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, I added your order to that woman’s receipt. Can you imagine cutting a line just for a cone of caramel and pistachio?” Your eyes widen. Not so sweet after all, huh?

“Wh– isn’t that illegal or some shit?” You ask, worrying that your favorite ice cream parlor will shut down because of the FBI finding out about your stupid cone of rocky road. The boy shrugs innocently.

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He winks.

You scoff, an unfamiliar feeling clusters in your stomach, just like the thrill of first crushes but with a different – slightly bizzare taste. “I’m still ordering something else, though. Tell me, is the rocky road free?” You ask, still unsure of what just happened. Free ice cream isn’t something you get every day, come to think of it. He pretends to think for a while before nodding.

“But,” He says. “You have to do me a favor in return.” You raise your eyebrow, preparing yourself for any stupid favor he has in mind. The blossoming feelings doesn’t stop pounding in you, and suddenly it’s middle school all over again. “How about your number? That seems fair, yeah?” He smiles coyly. You snort.

“Sir, am I hearing things wrong or are you flirting with me?”

“Well, do you want your precious rocky road cone or not?” He playfully sniggers at you. You cognitively slap yourself back alive, lured in by his small tricks. You had no choice, do you? Hey, at least the boy’s cute.

You grab a piece of tissue from the counter without answering. “Do you have a pen?” Handing you a pen, he rests his head on top of his palm, watching you write down your number carefully – trying not to rip the tissue or create a hole. He smirks in satisfaction, watching you as your face washes in a flustered demand. “What’s your name?”

“Minho. Lee Minho.”

“As in the actor? Wow, I’ve never thought he’ll be selling ice cream downtown.”

“I wish.” You giggle at his response, handing him the nearly ripped tissue paper. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. Minho slides the paper on his pocket, handing you a cone of rocky road with whipped cream and sliced strawberries on top as an extra dressing. “Thanks, I’m also ordering two medium buckets of cookies and cream with chocolate and mint-choco with blueberry cheesecake. No toppings, please.” You finally excecute the order after countless unsuccessful rehearsals in your head.

Minho writes down the order before sliding the paper towards his co-worker who seems to be wiggling his eyebrows from your view. “Wow, that’s a lot to eat in one sitting. No toppings?” You shake your head again.

“It’s for my co-workers. Oh, and spit on the chocolate one, if you may.”

“Kinky, but it’s not something I’ve never tried before,”

“I’m just kidding, geez.” You huff, trying to hide the bubbling smile as you wonder, trying to imagine what happened to occur that precise course of action.

“You work at the publishing company now, huh?” He asks, pointing at your nametag as he passes your two buckets of ice cream. You nod enthusiastically. “I remember you coming here late at night in your pajamas doing calculus while shoving cookie dough up to your face. Good times.”

A coral blush crept from your cheeks. “Okay, now you just sound creepy.”

“Well,” He says, his face panning closer to you as you flinch back in surprise. “I’d like to stay and chat, Y/N. But you’re holding the line.” Minho reminds you, cocking his head towards the line. “Let’s continue some other day, yeah?”

You glance at the clock and then at the line behind you. “Oh shit, you’re right.” Clicking your tongue, you mention silently. Disappointed that you have to go back to your crusty co-workers, who’s probably whining over the fact that you’re still not back yet. “How much for the two tubes?”

“Twenty five.” He answers watching you run swiftly through your wallet. “But if you’re willing to go to dinner with me next Saturday, it’s free.” Minho says. Your heart does a cartwheel as you stare into the boy, wiggling his eyebrows at you. What more can you ask from a good looking guy like him? Cheeky bastard.

“How can I say no to that?” The coral blush that tinges on your cheeks fades into a deep red. “To be honest, I’m baffled. You sure know a lot about me, but I don’t know much about you, Minho.”

He hums. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“You got yourself a date, Mister. Now if you’ll excuse me, someone at the office owes me a foot massage.” Minho winks one last time before you leave the ice cream parlor.

With heart in your hand and ice cream in the other, you walk out the creamery with a delighted feeling. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll melt away like ice cream in scorching hot weather if you think about the ice cream boy too much.

[perfectackeracy]

I’m enjoying this anime... in a weird way

After watching the first two episodes, I can say I’m please but at the same time disappointed by certain choices.

Enjoyable because the pacing, as well as the chronological events from the manga have been shambled enough to not only let anime-onlies discover the surprise, but also to keep manga readers interested.

As disappointed some people may be, it’s one of the best decisions the anime studio made. On one hand because I don’t trust the studio to reconstruct Isayama’s message behind the season (the opening is an indication of this) and on the other hand because they not only have 12 volumes to animate and they couldn’t hook up the audience on an episode containing nothing but boring discussion.

In fact, I think the first episode already gave the tone of the first cour: humans killing humans, inner enemies, key characters from this arc being introduced… That’s a better summary than S2’s first episode that was an accurate representation of chapter 34-35, with the Beast Titan appearing. During the whole season, the ape was just alluded as a influential force while the rest of the season focused more on Reiner, Ymir, Historia, Bertolt, Connie and Sasha.

Since the content to adapt is big, I’m expecting some scenes to be cropped out in this season. But in this case, they didn’t only crop some scenes. they combined two moments of the manga into one. I don’t mind Kenny’s attack happening at the same time as Dimo’s kidnapping, but if the season was stretched a bit more, it would’ve been more complete.

Because the disappointment comes from here: cropping vital scenes showing some important points concerning the morality of the protagonists in this arc tones down the unfolding sequence of events in the anime. As a result, some scenes lose impact. We’re quickly dragged through a succession of scenes without really breathing or wondering what’s really happening.

Those two episodes still rushed the capture of Eren and Historia in an incredible manner. You have to watch the episode a couple of times to understand where we’re getting at, since the anime team must deliver the main content of each chapter in a total of 24 episodes. Reminder: S1, who had approximately the same amount of episodes, still animated the equivalent of 8 volumes and reproduced each scene while staying faithful to the manga. Only towards the end, they animated some filler and ended the season with a nonsensical plot point. The quantity this time is much bigger.

That being said, I don’t mind some scenes being left out of the manga: one example being the hardening experiments. We’ve spent the beginning of the arc centering on that one necessary issue (since the hardening can plug Wall Maria) only for it to be resolved with the magical serum bottle.

Don’t count on secondary characters being expanded too much. First episode offed Nifa and her squad, second episode offed Dimo and abridged Sannes’ monologue. The manga took the time to give them sympathetic moments, like Dimo showing concern about Trost’s citizens, or him giving the pep talk to Historia and Eren just before they got captured. In this scene, he just gave Flegel a key advice before being killed by Kenny, his death being used as a motive to frame Erwin. They’ve done the same with Pastor Nick in S2, or Nanaba.

The only secondary characters from this arc who are going to receive a decent amount of screentime are Kenny, Rod, Frieda and Grisha. Especially Kenny and Rod since they were not only present in the first episode and the trailer, but also because the interviews both tied them to characters like Levi and Historia, at the foreground of this arc. Frieda was hinted both in the opening and the ending, sign she’s going to be exposed in this arc. Same can be said for Grisha, whose secrets will lead Eren to the first scene of the first episode of this season.

I also have a problem with how trimmed some elements are. In particular how anything that makes the main cast look remotely bad being cut out or watered down. Levi brutalizing Sannes wasn’t shown. Sannes calling out Hange on their methods wasn’t shown. Armin didn’t have a gesumin moment. Sure, we’ve got the message this is no longer a human vs. monster conflict, but the issue lies in the main characters being able to corrupt themselves, and not picture themselves as white knights in the right. We might see the scene post-torture afterwards, but the point of Sannes’ dialogue is not that he deserved it, but that “using torture and violence as a means to be in power is just as bad as what the MP does”. It was meant as a warning for the SC’s path.

As such, I’m afraid the anime will soften up most things making the characters look bad or unfair, using Hange pulling Sannes’ teeth out, Levi punching him repeatedly, or even Hange threatening to castrate Sannes. Probably out of fear of making the characters too gruesome for the anime, toying with their popularity?

Of course, you can blame most things on the censorship, but even in this department, their choices to hide things from the national television are odd. Gory shots, on-screen torture and shirtless men aren’t okay, but a 15 second molestation scene is? Armin being molested in front of Jean is the worst offender by far. Not only did the animators brag about it, but to add further to the insult, Armin’s name trended on Twitter because of that scene. As my followers may all know, I’m not the biggest Armin fan around, but to see him trending because of a “funny trap moment” when he’s being evicted out of merch due to how poor he sells is just sad.

The blood and gore will be left uncensored in the DVD version, but I’m hoping it will tone down some moments in the manga. Hell, we’re probably going to skip the shit machine scene because of a shirtless man and pure depravity on screen.

To the ones following the anime, I suggest going back to the manga to see which scenes have been skipped and cropped, just so you can understand what WIT left aside.

[carmineclock]

The gift that keeps on giving

> Just a few moments after Clover got the news from Nepeta..

Clover 3:33 PM

> Your name is CLOVER, and you are shark hunting. Your demeanor hasn't stiffened, hasn't become crass, but the smile on your face doesn't quite reach your eyes as you walk.

Trace 3:37 PM

> You are still sitting in the library where you thought long and hard about how to approach the issue and what to say to who. You've sent Crowbar a message, and while you're waiting for a reply, you tried your best to distract yourself by reading a book. An attempt you've long given up again, so now the book is lying next to you while you sit on the couch, with your elbow on the armrest and face in your hand, your thoughts constantly circling around how much shit you are.

Clover 3:39 PM

"So," you chirp as you settle yourself in front of him, hands hooked behind your back. "How'd you do it?"

Trace 3:43 PM

You jolt out of your thoughts. Didn't even notice him coming in, which is kind of unusual for you. You look at him, a little puzzled and very anxious. "What?"

Clover 3:45 PM

"How'd you do it?" A snort. "You landed a true strike on what should be one of the most protected individuals in the whole of the city. I'm impressed. How?"

Trace 4:13 PM

You stare at him a little longer. He knows something, doesn't he? Did Kankri tell him-? Or no, probably Nepeta. Hn. You rub the bridge of your nose with two fingers. Damn, you weren't prepared for this. "Really?" You don't sound convinced. "You really wanna know?"

Clover 4:14 PM

"Why else would I ask?"

Trace 4:19 PM

> Sigh. "She's not been all that protected, you know. Not all the time, at least. She's been running a fairly open funeral parlor and could go out wherever and whenever she wants." > You're not really feeling like talking about this right now, let alone brag, that much is obvious.

Clover 4:35 PM

"So you just, like, waltzed in and committed murder?"

Trace 4:41 PM

You give him a grimace. "Is this an interrogation? It was a setup. Planned it for a while." Rub your temple. "I'm gonna have to tell the bosses."

Clover 4:48 PM

"Yeah, you are." Clasp your hands together. "Are you satisfied?"

Trace 5:02 PM

"That question is too simple." You think about how to answer for a moment. "I hope it hurt them good. I never wanted to hurt Nepeta that much though. Stupid.."

Clover 5:06 PM

> Closer. "I'm sure it did. Is that all you wanted? Just to be able to say, oh, I got even, and nothing after that matters because all that matters to me is that I had this victory?"

Trace 5:16 PM

You're already leaning away, but as he gets closer, you unconsciously try to get even more distance. He's pissed, alright. Of course he would. "I wanted to feel a little bit less powerless." And achieved pretty much the opposite. Good job. You shake your head. "Not my proudest moment."

Clover 5:21 PM

"You wanted to feel a little more powerful. A little more in control. You wanted to prove that you could take everything out from under him if there was no one holding you back. Well, good job, Reynolds. You did it. You struck him where it hurts." > You snarl, fangs flashing as you rest a hand on the arm of the couch and keep leaning in. "And I'm sure you're happy knowing that that mattered so much more than Nepeta. Than me. Than us. You chose Diamonds Droog over everyone you've ever claimed to love. And that was such an accomplishment, wasn't it?"

Trace 5:38 PM

You close your eyes and submit to his anger. You deserve this and no less, you know that. When he's done, you open your eyes again and look at him, but you stay quiet. You don't really got anything to say in your defense. You aren't happy, no. But he's right that you put this over everyone and everything else, and that is your failing and yours alone.

Clover 5:50 PM

> You press your nails underneath his chin and stare, pain showing through the rage in your gritted teeth and tense posture. "I trusted you. More than I ever trusted at least half of this whole idiotic radioactive mansion. I thought that would mean something to you. I thought you had a good head on your shoulders. But I guess you're a better liar than I thought."

Trace 6:11 PM

It's almost ironic to hear that from the guy that's probably best at lying to himself about how much control he got over himself and his emotions. But you're not in the mood to start that kinda conversation. You swallow hard, but you hold his stare, even if your eyes are undoubtedly started to wet. "Sorry."

Clover 6:12 PM

Blink, blink.... "....Sorry?"

Trace 6:14 PM

You smirk weakly, then frown again. "Yeah. I- I can't undo what I did. But I'm sorry. For the kinda mess I am. For letting down you and Nepeta and everyon else." You bite your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Clover 6:16 PM

"...." > You stare at him for a good long while, your expression somewhere between disgust and disbelief. "Would you do it again."

Trace 6:24 PM

You grimance. "I don't know. Not with a reaction like this, no."

Clover 6:25 PM

"What I don't get is how you didn't expect the reaction you got."

Trace 6:34 PM

This shuts you up again and you look away to the side. You give him a weak shrug. "Been too preoccupied to think about it. You know. Stuff to worry about later." Which is now, and you're worrying, alright.

Clover 6:41 PM

"...." > A harsh laugh. "God, I thought you were the smart one."

Trace 6:42 PM

"That makes two of us."

Clover 6:47 PM

"Congratulations on somehow being better at lying to yourself than I am."

Trace 6:53 PM

> You give a short snort, but none of this is a laughing matter, really. You swallow again. Fuck. "Well."

Clover 7:45 PM

"Mmmm. Well. I've said what I have to say, so, this is for Nep--" You lean back again just to swing a fist at his face.

Trace 8:35 PM

You flinch hard. A minute or two earlier you've been prepared for this, not now. But, again, you deserve this. You hold your face, from pain, but also shame. Urgh. You look at him, just barely holding yourself together. "...sorry. Take- take good care of her for me, will you?" Not that you feel like you have any rights to make requests anymore, but you know Clover cares about her as much as you do.

Clover 8:45 PM

> You straighten up and dust yourself off. "I will. But not for you."

Trace 8:46 PM

You let out a shaky sigh. "..I know. That's good enough, thank you."

Clover 8:51 PM

> Some part of you deeply, deeply wants to stay and to see if you can make him cry. He deserves that much, at minimum,  you know it, and you want to be the one to do it. > Some part of you wants to make sure that he gets it through his head what he's done, what he's lost. > You mutter "Traitor." under your breath and turn to leave.

> One last thing,

"You've got an hour 'til I tell the bosses myself. Maybe less. Don't take your time."

Trace 9:32 PM

If your heart didn't break into a bunch of pieces yet, it sure did now. Traitor. Alright. Shelf that one away for probably irreparably fucked up. You sit there motionless until he left. Only then you realize you've been holding your breath, and with it the first tears. It's tempting to wait out that hour. Let Clover do the rest while you find a fitting hole to hide away in for the rest of your life. You don't actually wait that long, but you need a good ten minutes to calm yourself until you're presentable again.

[sagexbrush]

keep your head up (i’ll lay my heart down)

or read it on a03

From: Unknown Number 

[9:30 AM]

hey so do u maybe want to talk about tonite?  

To: Unknown Number

[9:31 AM]

I think you have the wrong number.

From: Unknown Number

[9:32 AM]

wait so you’re saying this isn’t kayla?

To Unknown Number

[9:33 AM]

No, this isn’t Kayla. Looks like someone gave you the wrong number.

“Is Amy texting someone?” Gina asks loudly, peering over Amy’s shoulder.  She always has a habit of popping up in the most unexpected places. 

Amy jumps about a foot in the air and promptly shuts her phone in the nearest possible drawer. 

“On her personal phone?” Gina adds, helpfully. The personal phone was something that Gina and the others never ceased teasing her about. At first, they’d thought Amy was hiding something from them until she told them the reasoning behind it. 

She had gotten the advice from her first ever Sergeant. 

“You ever want to survive this place?” The older woman had said, “then keep two phones. That way you know if it’s a personal emergency or a work emergency.”

Amy considers that woman (wherever she may be) to be her first ever mentor, so of course she had two phones. That way she could also keep her work line clear for a real emergency. Except that her coworkers seemed to think it was hilarious to send gifs of kittens in the group chat instead of actual crime info (thanks so much Jake).

“It was just someone who had the wrong number,” Amy says quickly, before she can really think about it. 

“Oh Amy,” Gina says, shaking her head slowly. “You say that like it was supposed to make it sound better.” 

Amy makes a face at her. 

That’s when Jake approaches them. He doesn’t have the perp he was chasing down with him, so Amy assumes that his bust didn’t go quite as perfectly as he’d bragged. He’s holding his (solitary) phone and frowning down at it. “What are we talking about?” 

“Amy’s pathetic life,” Gina supplies helpfully. 

“It is not pathetic - “ Amy protests but Jake merely nods like this is a factual statement. “I can’t stand any of you people,” she says, spinning her desk chair around. 

“Gina I think you gave me the wrong number, are you sure this is what - “ 

“Jake, I am not your personal assistant.” 

She doesn’t check her personal phone until later that night. Really, maybe Gina is right. Amy is pathetic. She has a phone for work and a personal phone, and half the time she forgets that the personal phone exists. The wrong number text had been a surprise, for god’s sake. It was perhaps time to resort out her priorities. 

There’s only two messages: one is a text reminder from her doctor’s office and the other one if from the unknown number from earlier.

From: Unknown Number

[9:34 AM]

no no, i wasn’t trying to hit on kayla. kayla is my dad’s gf and she was supposed to tell me when he’s next flying thru.

Amy shouldn’t text back. Pathetic, Gina’s voice says in her mind. 

Ha, Amy thinks back. I’ll show you. I can have a conversation with someone outside of work that’s not family or Kylie. 

To: Unknown Number

[8:02 PM]

Sorry for assuming things. Sorry about Kayla. Sounds rough.

From: Unknown Number

[8:10 PM]

ah no you’re good. for the record tho, the ladies love me. 

To: Unknown Number

[8:11 PM]

Have you ever heard of humility?

From: Unknown Number

  [8:17 PM] 

only nerds know big words like humility

To: Unknown Number

[8:20 PM] 

That’s not even a big word.

From: Unknown Number

[8:22 PM]

send me a big word 

To: Unknown Number

[8:24 PM]

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

From: Unknown Number

[8:30 PM]

i see what u did there.

One failed case and a day later: Amy feels like throwing something at a wall. Or maybe something out a window. Or herself out that window. Or Jake. Yes, that’ll do. She’ll throw Jake out a window. 

“Do you want something Peralta?” She snaps, when she notices Jake is staring at her instead of filling out his arrest report. His successful arrest report, because of course he was successful today. (She’s conveniently forgotten about his failure yesterday.) 

“Only to ask if I should evacuate the premises because you look like you’re about to melt something with your laser eyes.” He’s clearly trying to be funny, his mouth quirked up in that infuriating smirk. Even his posture speaks of relaxation, leaned back with his shoulders slumped. Lucky him.

“Oh shut up,” Amy snaps. It’s harsher than she usually is with Jake and he recoils slightly in surprise. She allows herself to feel exactly two seconds of guilt and then refocuses on the task at hand. She can do this. She’s a Santiago, after all. 

Her concentration lasts for about three more seconds until her phone buzzes. 

From: Unknown Number

  [1:42 PM]

i realize this is a weird question to ask bc we’re not really friends but r u a girl? 

From: Unknown Number

  [1:42 PM]

not in a creepy way. i need advice on a girl situation and all my other girl friends know too much.

Amy looks up. Rosa and Charles are out on a stakeout, Holt is securely in his office, Terry is filling out his paperwork and Jake is texting someone on his phone. Surely no one would mind if she did some texting of her own. Jake wasn’t the only one could bend the rules. 

It’s with a sort of defiance that she continues their conversation. 

From: Unknown Number

[1:43 PM]

if it makes it seem less creepy, ur name is mary poppins in my phone.

To: Unknown Number

[1:44 PM]

You saved my number?

From: Unknown Number

[1:44 PM]

i promise i’m not a creeper you just seemed like a nice person to talk to

Amy hesitates, before adding his number as a contact into her phone. She looks for a moment at his real number…it almost looks familiar? She brushes that notion aside, it’s not like she knows that many people’s numbers. She’s barely memorized her mother’s. 

Besides, she was a cop. If this person tried to pull anything with her…well he’d find out the consequences the hard way. Amy Santiago wasn’t someone who could be messed with. 

To: Creeper?

[1:46 PM]

Okay. Shoot me your question.

From: Creeper?

[1:46 PM]

this girl i like is really upset today and i’m just making it worse. what should i do?

Ah, just Amy’s luck. The only boy who’s been even remotely talking to her out of work likes someone else. She changes his contact name almost immediately to something more fitting the circumstances

. If this was a romantic comedy, Amy would be the quirky one that both of the love interests loved as a friend.

(The character that usually ended up alone.) 

(AKA, story of her life.)

To: Lover Boy

[1:48 PM]

Ask her what’s wrong once she’s cooled off a bit. If it’s something you can help with, help her with it. If not, just give her some space. 

She shuts her phone in her desk drawer after that. She takes a few deep breaths while massaging her temples. The case file in front of her looks like absolute gibberish and that’s not even considering the fact that the perp got away. That she practically let him get away with her sloppy detective work. She goes to get another cup of coffee, even though it’s probably a bad idea at this point. It’s something warm to hold, at least. She couldn’t imagine the level of teasing that would ensue if she started drinking hot chocolate on the job. 

“Hey Santiago?” Jake looks a little less relaxed than before, but that infuriating smirk is never truly gone. She’s only seen him angry once, and that was when a police officer was trying to help his friend escape persecution. (She had been surprised to see that he did, in fact, have a range of emotions.) 

“My lasers have been deactivated,” she mumbles. “In case you were wondering, you don’t need to evacuate.”

“I was actually just going to ask if you need any help? Not that you’re not a perfectly capable detective, but a fresh pair of eyes might be of assistance?”

She’s too frustrated to note his adult vocabulary, instead disturbed by how much this appeals to her. It’s not a bad idea. It feels almost insulting to accept Jake’s help but… well for once he didn’t look like he was rubbing it in her face. He almost looked like he genuinely wanted to help. His entire posture is open, eyes almost sparkling a little bit. 

(Maybe she needs five more cups of coffee. With shots.) 

  “Sure,” she says, handing him the case file. “I had a lead on him this morning, but he got away. Now I have no idea where he could be hiding out.”

“It says here his favorite restaurant is the burger place by that seedy gas station?” Jake frowns. “How did you get that information?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Amy says. “I asked the staff and they hadn’t seen him for several months. He’s been on to us at every turn.”

“Doesn’t mean that it still can’t be a good place to start,” Jake says, standing up. “Besides, you can buy me dinner after I solve your case.” It’s accompanied by a blinding smile, which Amy can’t help but return. 

“Oh in your dreams Peralta,” Amy rolls her eyes. “Just because I’m letting you ‘help me out’ doesn’t mean you get to take all the credit for the literal months of work I’ve put down.” 

Two hours they find the perp in a gas station near the burger place almost entirely by accident. He doesn’t get away again because Jake is blocking the other exit, slamming him down into the ground and grinning up at her.

“Looks like you owe me dinner,” he says, as he fastens the handcuffs about the perp’s wrists. 

Sometimes she forgets that police work is intended to have two people at all times. (That, and sometimes she forgets just how good of a cop Jake is.) 

She forgets to check her phone until she’s almost about to go to bed, head aching with exhaustion from the day. 

From: Lover Boy

[2:05 PM]

it worked. thx.

To: Lover Boy

[10:13 PM]

You’re welcome. Did you ask her out?

From: Lover Boy

[10:15 PM]

its kind of complicated bc i like her a lot but she hates me? idk. 

To: Lover Boy

[10:16 PM]

I doubt she hates you. You can’t always predict what people are thinking. Maybe she’s just pretending to hate you. 

From: Lover Boy

[10:17 PM]

maybe. 

To: Lover Boy

[10:18 PM]

I’m not going to get arrested for talking to you, am I? 

From: Lover Boy

[10:19 PM]

not unless ur committing a crime. 

From: Lover Boy

[10:20 PM]

im realizing now u meant other things. i’m thirty three. 

To: Lover Boy

[10:21 PM] 

I’m twenty-nine.

To: Lover Boy

[10:25 PM]

I was thinking, if you wanted of course… I could help you with this relationship with this girl? You don’t need to tell me any personal information or anything, I could just give you advice. If you wanted it.

From: Lover Boy

[10:27 PM]

your contact name has officially been changed to fairy godmother.

To: Lover Boy

[10:28 PM] 

Ha ha. You can tell my more about this dream girl tomorrow, then. I have to be at work early. 

From: Lover Boy

[10:29 PM] 

gnite fairy godmother

“Oh wow,” Gina says. “The personal phone is out on the desk today. Does that mean you’re waiting for a gentlemen caller?” She’s leaning against Amy’s desk and Amy is really trying to focus on this paperwork. She just needs Jake’s signature now. 

“Maybe,” Amy says, trying for elusiveness. 

“Oh honey,” Gina says. “Nice try.”

“Whatever,” Amy says. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you have work to do?”

“Oh but this is so much more interesting,” Gina says. “Why don’t you let me try and set you up with someone again?”

“Last time you tried to set me up it was a nightmare,” Amy says. “My dating life is just fine, thank you very much.” 

Really, her dating life consists of binge watching Netflix TV shows and sad dates that her mother sets up for her. Gina can’t know that. Neither can Jake, who’s leaning across his desk to listen in on this conversation. 

“Are you waiting for a text from a boy?” he asks.

“Oh my god,” Amy says, cheeks burning. She slams the phone in her drawer. “Happy?” 

Gina saunters off. Jake scoops up his car keys and turns for the door. 

“Before you go,” Amy says, determinedly not looking at him, “I need you to sign this.”

He signs it way more quickly than she would have done, but he doesn’t leave right away. He lingers, his presence almost more of a sound than a sight. 

“Hey,” he says suddenly. Amy looks up. “I didn’t mean to - I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“Well great job,” Amy says in that sweet voice she reserves for true annoyance. This time the guilt lingers for slightly longer and then, “Sorry. I just don’t like how my dating life is a constant source of amusement for everyone.”

“I wouldn’t say constant,” Jake says, winking. “Just occasionally. Charles? You ready?”

She’s still glowering at her computer when she hears her phone buzz inside her desk drawer. She waits until Gina is securely in the break room to text anything back. 

From: Lover Boy 

[11:15 AM]

how do u tell if a girl is really annoyed or she’s fake annoyed

To: Lover Boy

[11:25 AM] 

Context clues, I guess. Were you teasing her about something she’s self conscious about?

“Loveeeeer boy?” Gina croons, appearing from seemingly nowhere. Amy jumps about a foot in the air.

“Have you heard of such a thing as privacy?” Amy hisses. 

“There’s no such thing as privacy when you’re holding your phone like that,” Gina says. “You’re practically asking for someone to look over your shoulder. Who’s Lover Boy, huh?” 

In hindsight, maybe Amy should have picked a different name for this mysterious man she’s been texting. Then again, it came with it’s side benefits. 

This next moment is one of the most satisfying moments of Amy’s entire career. 

“None of your business,” she tells Gina, and shuts the phone back into the drawer.

She waits until she’s off of work to look at her personal phone (mostly to rub it in Gina’s face when she can’t get anymore gossip than she needs) and spends as long as possible reviewing her brother’s latest message about his daughter’s preschool project before she goes back to their conversation. To show herself that she’s not attached to the situation, nope. Not at all. 

From: Lover Boy

[11:30 AM]

well she’s kind of self conscious about herself w/ other ppl sometimes. our colleagues tease her a lot and i kind of jumped on board w/ it sometimes.

You and me both, Amy thought. Turns out she had more in common with Lover Boy’s girl than she thought. 

From: Lover Boy

[2:30 PM]

according to my friend she’s apparently seeing someone else now

To: Lover Boy

[6:32 PM] 

Who?

From: Lover Boy

[6:33 PM] 

idk. she won’t tell us. we’ve teased her about past bfs.

To: Lover Boy

[6:34 PM]

Does she ever tease you back? Seem to enjoy your interactions?

From: Lover Boy

[9:45 PM]

srry i was drowning my sorrows. or am? the night is still young.

To: Lover Boy

[9:50 PM] 

Wow, giving up that soon?

From: Lover Boy

[9:51 PM]

no no no. ive liked thsi girl since like what feels like forever

From: Lover Boy

[9:51 PM]

i mean she’s like perfect. u know? smart and funny and pretty

To: Lover Boy

[9:52 PM] 

Then why are you getting drunk right now?

From: Lover Boy

[9:52 PM]

bc shes dating someone else again

To: Lover Boy

[9:53 PM]

Again?

From: Lover Boy

[9:54 PM]

ppl r always trying to set her up w/ some boy. idk y, but now ive missed my shot

Amy’s curled up on her couch with Harry Potter playing in the background and feels less lonely for whatever reason. It’s nice to feel like there’s someone else out there that could be completely failing in the romance department. 

For whatever reason, she really wants Lover Boy to succeed. Every rational thought is telling her that growing weirdly attached to some boy through text message is a stupid thing to do, but at the same time she couldn’t imagine giving up the easiness that’s sprung between them. It’s simpler than any friendship she’s had before. 

To: Lover Boy

[9:57 PM]

You don’t know that yet. There’s always a chance, and you can’t give up just yet. Tomorrow you should tell me more about her, when you’re sober. 

She goes to bed at a reasonable time, but it still takes two alarm clocks to wake her up. She has five drunk texts from Jake on her work phone which she ignores, and instead focuses on the personal phone.

From: Lover Boy

[1:30 AM]

okay did i tell you that she smells like dreams

From: Lover Boy

[1:30 AM]

dreAMS mySTERY INTERNET WOMAN

From: Lover Boy

[1:45 AM]

she also is like rlly funny. did i say that? nobody else thinks shes funny but i could listen to her talk all day long

From: Lover Boy

[2:30 AM] 

do u know how to delete messages from someone elses phone?

To: Lover Boy

[6:45 AM]

What did you send her?

She barely scans through the texts from Jake (something about smelling meadows? What was it with boys and their noses?) before she texts him back. 

To: Jake Peralta

[6:50 AM]

You sure you can handle coming into work? Need me to take over your cases?

She’s feeling overwhelmingly cheerful today. One, true love is possible (look at Lover Boy and the girl that was like her) and she was going to get to watch Jake Peralta with an extreme hangover all day.

She makes a strong cup of coffee and settles in to watch the morning news.

From: Jake Peralta

[7:35 AM] 

dont b ridiculous santiago in ur dreams

She rolls her eyes and begins to plot all the ways she’s going to make his hangover life miserable today. It involves loud noises, revolting smells, and a particularly irritating case that she thinks she can get Holt to make him work with her on.

Although, she has to admit that she’s impressed he’s awake this early. Maybe he hadn’t slept at all? 

Her personal phone buzzes. Finally, something she’s interested in. 

From: Lover Boy

[7:36 AM]

false alarm, she didnt read into it

To: Lover Boy

[7:38 AM]

I wouldn’t worry about. My colleague drunk texts me all the time. Including last night.

From: Lover Boy

[7:39 AM]

hav to sympathize w/ him i feel like death. were his drunk texts as good as mine?

To: Lover Boy

[7:39 AM]

No. He’s just an idiot, really. Probably will roll into work half an hour late because he was sleeping with some random person from the bar. He always does this. I just wish he’d stop sometimes and give me a break really. 

From: Lover Boy

[7:40 AM]

why do you care so much

Amy freezes. She’s too distracted to even notice that he didn’t use those childish abbreviations for once, her heart stopping in her chest. He’s absolutely right of course: why does she care? She does, in some weird part of herself that she hasn’t examined before. 

She really, really cares that Jake was probably out having a one night stand the night before.

From: Lover Boy

[7:43 AM]

srry if that was too forward. hangover

From: Lover Boy

[7:47 AM]

w/ this girl i like, i kept trying to deny it over and over again. it took me years to figure it out bc emotions are confusing and i still dont know what she means to me. so if ur going thru a crisis im here.

(Texting back feels like an acknowledgment, so she ignores it.) 

She is almost late to work, breezing in about the same time as Jake. He, predictably, looks like death. Which she doesn’t care about. She doesn’t care that the shadows under his eyes look as if they could swallow him whole, doesn’t care that his hands appear to be shaking slightly and for once he looks nervous. 

“Amy,” he says, before they can leave the parking garage. Why did they have to arrive at the same time, today of all days?

Not that it mattered.

Lover boy doesn’t know me.

“Yeah?”

“I was hoping you could give me some advice,” Jake says, scratching the back of his head. “You know. Because you’re wise and all that.” 

“What kind of advice?” 

“How to talk to someone advice. I think I said something wrong this morning, but I like talking to this person, and I don’t want to screw everything up -”

Amy bristles. She was sure he had probably said something wrong to whatever person’s bed he had rolled out of this morning. Well, she wasn’t about to be apart of it. Not that she cared. Amy Santiago didn’t care. 

“Look Peralta,” she snaps, “I’m not about to start mixing our personal and work lives because you screwed up with someone you met when you were drunk off your mind. And also? Stop drunk texting me. It’s not cute. I’m sure you did say something wrong, so maybe you should just apologize instead of talking to other people about it.” 

She stomps off, not even registering what she’s done until they’re in the morning briefing and Jake still isn’t there. 

“Has anyone seen Peralta?” Holt asks. Amy’s about to say that she has seen him when he stumbles in. He looks almost no different from this morning, but weirdly…damp?

“What happened to you?” Rosa demands.

“Splashed some water on my face,” he mumbles. “You know. Reopen the senses.”

“And you needed to soak your hair because…?”

“I was really tired, okay?”

“Enough,” Holt barks. “We will get back to the matter at hand…”

Amy approaches Jake approximately three hours later, when she feels like she can’t stand it anymore. She had been unfair, she knew she had. She was just…upset. For whatever reason. A reason totally unrelated to whether or not she cared. (Of course.) 

“Jake,” she says. He looks surprised and she reminds herself that she should probably use his real name more often. “Look, about earlier…”

“I get it,” he says. “Sorry. About overstepping personal and work. I just didn’t realize I was working with two Rosas.” 

“I’m sorry,” Amy says again. “I just had a rough morning. I took it out on you.”

Jake smiles at her. “You’re forgiven,” he says. “Now, can you go and be loud somewhere else? My head feels like it’s filled with nails.”

(She makes sure to drop a stapler onto the floor less than five minutes later. Just because he’s made her feel guilty didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun too.) 

From: Lover Boy

[8:15 AM]

idk what i messed up but shes rlly mad at me. drunk texts apparently a bigger deal than i thought. and i rlly didnt mean to offend u earlier, im sorry. 

From: Lover Boy

[12:10 PM]

jk. we’re golden fairy godmother. false alarm. but i rlly hope you can forgive me for what i said earlier, it was crossing a line. 

“Who’re you texting?” Jake asks. 

Amy looks up at him. It’s rare that they take their lunch breaks together, but their schedules synched up and now she has a closer proximity to Jake than she thinks she wants to. From this close, she can see each line around his eyes that radiates when he smiles. She likes his smile, but that’s more about his mouth than him. 

Lover Boy was ridiculous, she thought. Ridiculous. She didn’t like Jake Peralta. 

“A mysterious fellow,” Amy says.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “More mysterious than the dude with the mesh underpants?”

“How did you hear about that?” Amy demands. “I told Gina that in confidence.” 

“Hey - I’m just proud of you Santiago. It turns out you’re more exciting that I thought you were.”

“Title of my sex tape!” Amy says. “HA! You can’t take back that now!” 

Jake bursts into laughter and Amy thinks about how she likes how it shapes his eyes and mouth. About how she likes how it shakes through his entire frame and makes her stomach feel all warm and fuzzy. About how maybe she hopes that she could do something that would make him laugh like that again. Anything to make him laugh like that again.

Oh shit. 

To: Lover Boy

[7:15 PM]

Okay, so earlier you may have had a point. 

From: Lover Boy

[7:18 PM]

welcome to my personal hell

From: Lover Boy

[7:20 PM]

but maybe we can help each other? w/ this romantic hell i mean

To: Lover Boy

[7:22 PM]

That sounds like a good plan. Although I’m still not sure if this is anything. It might just be because you planted that idea in my head. I need to sleep on it. 

Knowing that she likes Jake is like knowing there’s a ticking bomb in the room. One, he thinks she’s dating Lover Boy (as does everyone else in the precinct) and two, he’s an idiot. How could she like him? This was not an Amy Santiago thing to do. Liking Jake Peralta wasn’t an Amy Santiago specialty.

Of course, Holt it sending them on an overnight stakeout together. Of course. It’s as if the universe decides the most proper way to make fun of her is to shove her into Jake’s face at every ample opportunity. 

To: Lover Boy

[9:30 AM]

We’re going to be spending an extended amount of time together for our job. Help.

From: Lover Boy

[9:31 AM]

tell me about it sis. i swear, my boss is out to kill me. like we often work together but this is a more personal thing…

To: Lover Boy

[9:32 AM]

Same here. Honestly. How do you think I should act around him?

From: Lover Boy

[9:33 AM]

be urself but w/ a dash of flirting

Hours later they’re sitting in the car and Amy can feel the ringing silence between them like it’s a real, tangible thing. How did you cross this bridge? The bomb is ticking louder. Amy is really, really terrible at keeping a secret. 

“So,” Jake says. “How are you and Lover Boy?”

Yes. First order of business. To clear up whatever Jake thought was happening between her and the mysterious ‘Lover Boy’.

“Will you please not tell Gina this?” Amy asks.

“Uh-oh.”

“I’m serious. I want to see you nod. Okay. I was never really dating Lover Boy. It’s just a name I gave this dude as an inside joke. Seriously. There’s nothing between us.” 

It was the easiest explanation anyways. It doesn’t even really feel like a lie. Sure, Lover Boy doesn’t know what his contact name is, but Amy doesn’t think he’d mind anyways. 

“Oh,” Jake says. “I won’t tell Gina.”

“She would have a field day with it,” Amy says. Her personal phone buzzes.

“Oh wow,” Jake says, slipping his phone into pocket. “Taking the personal phone on a work date? I mean stake out? I mean occasion?”

“Why are you being weird?” Amy asks, rolling her eyes. “And yes. This is the number my mother contacts me at.”

Jake laughs, and Amy likes the sound too much to care that it’s directed at her own expense. 

From: Lover Boy

[8:45 PM]

SHE SAID THAT SHE’S NOT DATING ANYONE

To: Lover Boy

[8:46 PM]

Be yourself with a dash of flirting. ;)

From: Lover Boy

[8:47 PM] 

was that a winky face?

Amy smiles and puts her phone away. Okay. Time to get her flirt…on? She tucks her hair behind her ears and turns to Jake. She could do this. Flirting she meant. Flirting was something that she, as a grown badass woman, could do. 

Liking Jake wasn’t something she could put in a list. She couldn’t make a list of all the things she’d say to him because he was simply Jake. He refused to be contained in a list like all of the other boys she’d had a thing for. (Maybe that was a hint of something more.)

He smiles back at her. “Why do you look so happy?”

“I don’t know,” she says, a bit too loudly. “Don’t you love stake outs? And hanging out with people? Friends?”

“Amy,” he says.

“Sorry I’m being weird,” she rambles.

“Amy - “

“I just don’t know how to say - “

“Amy,” Jake hisses, “It’s our guy.” 

To: Lover Boy

[11:27 PM]

That was a fiasco.

From: Lover Boy

[11:28 PM]

omg tell me abt it. maybe were doomed to be alone.

To: Lover Boy

[11:29 PM]

I don’t know. Maybe I overthought this and I don’t like him after all. You kind of planted that idea in my head.

From: Lover Boy

[11:30 PM]

well, what do u like abt him?

To: Lover Boy

[11:31 PM]

He makes me laugh. He’s actually a really good guy.  I really, really like the way he laughs. I don’t know to explain it. With everyone else it’s like they fit in this nice little box, but he exceeds all my expectations. I don’t know, I just came to this realization yesterday. 

From: Lover Boy

[11:32 PM]

i think you just answered ur own question, o wise one.

To: Lover Boy

[11:33 PM]

What went wrong on your end?

From: Lover Boy

[11:36 PM]

our job got in the way of us hanging out. plus i think she was trying to tell me something and i had to be a good person and do my job damn it

To: Lover Boy

[11:40 PM]

Sometimes that’s the best thing. You could always reach out to her. 

From: Lover Boy

[11:41 PM]

maybe. i think she’s asleep.

Amy’s about to turn in herself, but her work phone buzzes.

From: Jake Peralta

[11:42 PM]

i liked hanging out with you santiago.

Amy falls asleep smiling. 

(She forgets to tell Lover Boy about the text.)

“Santiago!” Jake’s third jelly bean gets her attention, mostly because this one hits her straight in the forehead. She’s trying to avoid him while she tries (and fails) to come up with a way to say, hey by the way I really like your face and your body and your hands okay? If she was Jake, she’d probably just say something like romantic stylez and make sure that the Z was plain and clear. 

“Seriously, Jake?” 

Before he can answer that question, Gina comes between them with the worst timing ever. 

“Amy - I have someone to set you up with!” 

Amy glances up. “What? I thought I told you I didn’t want to do anymore of your pity dates.”

She had confessed to Gina that she hadn’t been dating anyone named Lover Boy, and she had been unbearable ever since. Just because Amy wasn’t dating anyone, didn’t mean that she didn’t want to. 

“You don’t need to tell me you need it,” Gina says. “I know.” 

“If I do this, will you get off my back?” Amy asks. “Like for real Gina. I’m tired of you being on my case.” 

“That was a great detective pun, I’m very proud of you,” Jake says. He’s watching their entire exchange with the typical Jake Peralta attention span. Which means that he’s currently trying to build a small tower of jelly beans and barely listening to anything else. 

“Do you think I should go on this date?” Amy asks him. She isn’t sure why she’s asking him. What does she want from that? Him to say no? (Yes, her traitorous brain answers. Maybe Amy Santiago has a deeply romantic side after all.) 

“Do what you want,” Jake shrugs. Amy feels something like bitterness curling into her stomach. That’s stupid she thinks. You shouldn’t feel anything at all, she thinks. It’s not like Jake knows or anything. It’s not like he has any right regardless to tell her who she should and shouldn’t date. 

What a stupid question for her to ask. 

“Fine,” she tells Gina. “I accept your date.”

She’s going to put her all into this date, even though it’s the last thing she wants to do. That means heels and that dress Kylie swears makes her figure look like a hundred bucks. It means making her hair look like a goddamn cascading waterfall. 

To: Lover Boy

[7:20 PM]

I may have made a mistake.

From: Lover Boy

[7:23 PM]

oh my god me too. shes going on a date and i acted like i was okay with it! who am i

To: Lover Boy

[7:24 PM]

Well I actually am going on a date and he actually didn’t care that I was going on a date at all. So I can tell you right now that’s not the right approach. It sucks. 

From: Lover Boy

[7:25 PM]

do u think its worth the risk of just telling her how i feel. i dont even know if she likes romantic revelations

To: Lover Boy

[7:26 PM]

Probably. You seem like you love her a lot, and she’d be crazy not to love you back. Go get her. (And it’s hard to imagine anyone who doesn’t like romantic revelations.) Besides, if you truly fail there’s always alcohol. 

If only Lover Boy was in love with her, she thought wistfully for a moment. She couldn’t help but wonder what it felt to be loved like that. Whoever this girl was, she was lucky. She hoped that she realized that too. 

She’s going to be twenty minutes early but decides it’s ultimately worth it. It’s better than staring at her phone and waiting to see if everyone else had a happy romantic ending without her. What was next, her ‘single as a Pringle’ brother declaring that he was going to actually settle down? 

Maybe she and whoever Gina had set her up with could go on a double date with Lover Boy and his girl. She locks her apartment door tightly behind her before stalking out with purpose. Jake Peralta aside, she was going to have nice time. 

From: Lover Boy

[8:12 PM]

i missed her. shes already on this stupid date and idk where it is

From: Lover Boy

[8:13 PM]

like sorry to rant but also not sorry bc she’s absolutely my dream girl and now ive missed her forever and goddamn it. bc im sure whoever her date is will see that too.

Turns out, a nice time isn’t entirely possible. Amy’s in the bathroom, trying to escape her incredibly awkward date. Apparently Gina thought that just because Amy was a nerd that she’d be into…well… the sort of nerd that generally needed to move out of their mother’s basement. The kind of nerd that needs to learn how to take a shower. 

She’s frustrated. She feels like screaming because she wishes that she had been going on a date with Jake and doesn’t understand why. Or maybe she understands too much why. 

He’s her partner. She’s known him for years. She doesn’t need to worry if he’s hiding some weird secret from her because she knows almost everything about him. She knows more about his life than some of her brothers. She knows his favorite movie, how many books he’s read, what he likes to do to relax and the face he makes when he’s not. 

How could you know someone that well and still like them?

To: Lover Boy

[8:14 PM]

How do you know she’s your dream girl?

From: Lover Boy

[8:20 PM]

she’s smart and not afraid to back down from a challenge. shes such a dork and literally even the way she scrunches her nose is cute i swear. usually i tune out whenever someone starts to talk about books but literally i could listen to her talk all day and i dont understand y. she keeps me on my toes. i know like everything about her. 

To: Lover Boy

[8:21 PM]

It sounds like that should be pretty obvious.

From: Lover Boy

[8:23 PM]

my friend rosa says its a miracle nobody else knows yet. apparently i am v obvious.

Amy’s plotting on how to escape from the restaurant but freezes. Rosa? Her brain begins to make a frantic connection that she can’t quite comprehend. 

Don’t be ridiculous, she tells herself. Lots of people have friends named Rosa. It’s not like it’s a weird name. 

To: Lover Boy

[8:25 PM] 

You never said what you did. Maybe it’s the stress of the job that’s throwing her off?

From: Lover Boy

[8:26 PM]

im a detective

Oh god, she thought to herself. Oh. My. God. It was Jake. Lover Boy was Jake Peralta. It had to be. How many detectives were there that had friends with the name Rosa? That, and all the times she’d texted Lover Boy and seen Jake pull out his phone - 

She pulls out her work phone and clicks on Jake’s contact, pulling up his phone number and comparing the two. They’re exactly the same. 

“Oh shit,” she whispers to herself. “Oh my god. I am the worst detective.” And seriously, fuck the two phone rule. That is probably the stupidest thing she’s ever done. 

Embarrassingly, she began to cry. Well, this was the end of her stupid crush on Jake Peralta. He was obviously desperately in love with someone from the precinct: maybe one of the cops from downstairs? It wasn’t like she paid attention to Jake all the time. 

Of course it was never going to be her. Why would it be? 

From: Lover Boy

[8:27 PM]

do u think i should try again w/ her?

Amy hastily wipes away a tear. If there’s one thing she’s proud of, it’s her stellar moral compass. First, she changes his contact name. Then she rewrites the knowledge of this in her brain and promises herself that she can leave this restaurant with dignity.

If liking Jake Peralta wasn’t apart of the Amy Santiago Brand, getting her heart so brutally destroyed by him certainly seemed to be. 

To: Jake Peralta

[8:30 PM]

You should go for it. You deserve to be happy. 

She means this of course. She’d always scoffed at this in movies: just tell him how you feel! In the end, it’s not that simple. It’s not worth complicating a good friendship because she might love (like her brain frantically corrects) him. 

She ditches her date and doesn’t even feel guilty about it. Sue her. She’s heartbroken, she thinks. She deserves to treat herself. Instead she grabs a cup of her favorite hot chocolate from the cafe on the corner and plans on tucking into her bed with her favorite Harry Potter book.

She’s even gotten to the point where she’s kicked off her heels and is holding them by their straps. She’s pretty sure her mascara is smeared all across her cheeks and her hair is tangled but who cared? She was being self pitying. Even the barista had given her a discount when she’d seen her approaching.

“Rough night?” She’d asked and Amy had nodded. A rougher night than anyone had intended, really. 

She thinks at first the person sitting outside her door is Kylie. It takes her a few seconds to realize that it’s not her because A, she hadn’t texted Kylie and B, it was obviously a guy. 

Which is why she’s instantly mortified when her brain makes the connection and finds Jake Peralta sitting outside of her apartment. He’s dressed in his usual work ensemble and looks really put together compared to her. 

“Jake?” she squeaks. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m - are you okay?” He asks as he takes her in. He stands immediately and reaches a hand toward her to what? Comfort her? It simultaneously soothes the raging nerves and enrages then. Amy nods, feeling her chin wobble slightly like it does when she’s about to cry. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asks. “Did something go wrong on your date?”

Everything, she wants to say. Then she thinks: what is the point of pretending anymore? “Did she say yes?”

“Did who say yes?”

“I’m your fairy godmother apparently,” she says bitterly, pulling out her phone and waving it in his face.

“What?” 

“You know, when you were trying to text Kayla? You were texting my personal phone,” Amy says. “I didn’t know it was you, because we didn’t tell each other our names but yeah. It was me.” 

“That was - that was you?” 

“Apparently,” Amy says. “Did the girl you like say yes? Let me guess, it was Sandra from downstairs -” 

“Sandra?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Amy says. “I’m chill, bro. You know. Chill.” She takes a sip of her hot chocolate and promptly burns her tongue. Smooth she tells herself. Wow. How are you even single? 

“Well how about you and your mystery man?” Jake demands. “Was it Chad?”

“Chad? My mystery man,” Amy scoffs.

“Well then, who was it?” he crosses his arms over his chest.

Damn it all to hell. She was done with not burning bridges for the sake of maintaining awkward friendships.

  “It was you, you idiot.” 

Jake’s eyes go wide. “…Me?”

“Yes,” Amy says. “I know. Whatever. We can just go back to forgetting about it now and I’m officially only going to have one phone now - “

“But Ames - I was talking about you.” 

She blinks. Her brain is moving sluggishly. She can’t quite comprehend what he’s just said to her. When she finally gets around it to it she opens her and mouth and closes it several times.

“Me?” she finally stammers. 

“Yes, you,” Jake says. “Oh my god. We are the worst detectives ever. It’s official.” He’s smiling for whatever reason, as if this is a massive joke. Was it April fools day today? She couldn’t remember. 

“But you can’t like me!” Amy protests loudly. 

“Oh I do,” Jake says. “I like like you Amy Santiago.”

“But all those nice things you said about her - “

“Were about you,” Jake says. “I swear. I swear on my reputation as a detective.”

“About me?” She asks, feeling another tired tear escape from the corner of her eye. 

“And all of your texts - those were about me? Including the ones where you said I was an idiot?”

“I think we’re both idiots,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “Oh my god. We may as well hand the best detective title over to Rosa or Charles.” 

“Might as well march over to Holt and turn in our resignations now,” he says, and despite herself she’s laughing. She’s laughing, laughing, laughing. So hard that her stomach feels like it’s about to burst and then he’s laughing too and both of them are careening toward each other like magnets. It ends with Jake’s mouth being awfully close to Amy’s and Amy’s chest being awfully close to his.

“I’m crazy about you Amy Santiago,” he says. “For real. And all of those things I meant, I meant.” 

It’s not eloquent, but Amy wouldn’t want it any other way. 

She remembers to drag him back into her apartment before she kisses him, real and properly. 

(Later, she says it back. “I’m crazy about you Jake Peralta. For real.”) 

To: Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago

From: Gina Linetti 

[11:30 PM]

if you guys aren’t together by now I’m going to riot. Also Jake, I have Kayla’s real phone number when you want it. If you want it. (She seems like kind of a bitch.) 

To: Gina Linetti and Amy Santiago

From: Jake Peralta

[11:31 PM]

DO NOT TELL ME YOU PLANNED THIS

To: Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago 

From: Gina Linetti

[11:32 PM]

i told Amy i had the perfect guy for her. 

[ilovetosmilepleasemarrymepi-blog]

For information and my safety and their sainity,

I do not own any pictures, art, drawings, or epic pieces of art in this story.

All ponies pony names, names of pony songs, pony songs, or any thing else that could get my ass sued. Also all chacters, locations, phrases, items, names of spells etc... They belongs to Hasbro, Hasbro entertainment, and Hasbro productions.

Witch will inevitably be bought by Disney like everything else. So we can get a pinky Deadpool ship!

FINALY!!!

Hello . My name is...well I guess I.. well how about you can just call me Dayrl for now. You see my story ... It is true, very true well the beginning is any way. Oh though how I wish this was a true story. The true story though has not yet occurred. If I'm to change my life would to change my life and find the one I was destined to meet. I'd have to find the one the cupcacake of my eye that for years or more I might of gone without noticing. I'd have to go through hell to find true love. I'd was going to be sent through life's emotional hell.

But that is later

This... is where my story began...for now...

My pony life started in high school. I don't even rember much of it, and I know I did not know about fan fictions back then. What had happened is that I saw this kid with really cool shirt with on and it something really cool on it with a rainbow maybe ?

Yeah that it defintaly not the design that was on the shirt but it is 20% cooler

So I asked the dude about it his shirt I mean he said it was from a short about ponies now at I was uncertain but I'm really open minded and also I was in high school so i think that was at the time where I was more use to watching cartoons so theres that by the way it may now be important but I really love to brag ... So you know the really famous season four tirek episode where twilight had the power of four Alicorns and when she when to battle tirek the stated exchangeing blows and beams energy waves throwing rocks at each other having a good ol time well I watched as .... It ... Aired ... Which alot of people can say that they did that to but ya know like I said l love to brag

#overlyadzaderatedartparody

So now ya know how I came to the fandom that's well and good and I really don't remember alot after that other than ya know watching the episodes now and then but if knew then what I know now ...... Well I often say don't it's not got look at the past unless your looking to learn

Now apparently ..... Very apparently I seem to have falling away from the fandom at sompoint and I think it it a fairly simple reason that I faced a problem that all us bronies have to and will learn to over come if we want in this fan community

Prejudice

Mockink, taunting teasing

Rejection

Eventually if you can't get over something like that and face your problems your fears and lack of self confidence you become ..... Lost alone ....unhappy you will be unable to move on with life... like...

Now eventually after a while I found the fandom again I don't really want to say ... Hoooo....huuummmm I guess if I'm going to be telling this story I'm going to be honest with you

#apples

#honesty

#elementofhonesty

#applejack

So any way here it I'm not what a normal person would call normal ...or at the very least average I have these psychological disorders there called autism, ADHD, ADD, OCD, and plethora of behavior probelems you see growing not the best behaved i had a lot of social issues and trouble making friends on account of my autism and the fact my dad had passed away when I was two and technicaly speaking im still not the best behaved or social

any way I was in this assisted liveing home becaus my mom need a break from me a person with less .... Metal advantages sometimes just can't handel you all the time and one day i was watching tv in the day room nothing on as per ussaul you know I did have my phone back then too and hardly ever watched TV when I did alot of it was Steven universe and any one else who watches that can tell you that hiatused are a Bitch so basically steven universe was hiatuse and there nothing on and I found my self watchin TMNT alot but ya got know there nothing on there's nothing on but one day there was...

Now one thing you have to understand about me is I absolutely love my music all music any music any at and I'm not that picky

#octaviamelody

#vinylrecordscratch

I don't really have that many thing I won't listen to most of the time I only have one rule and that is that I won't listen to anything where I can't understand the lyrics I feel like what the point in music if you can't apeel to everyone and if one person can not what your saying that's one person you did not reach but the point of the matter is that I like and appreciate a lot of music what I'm realling to say is that the music is a big part of why I loved in Steven universe so much like comet, giant woman, it's over isnt it and I will straight up right now say that show deserves ten Grammy's (not to mention the Annie award, animation award, it deserved deserved deserved for best episode paraphrasing the name of the award Mr. Greg instead of that dumb ass adventure time vr episode) but I'm getting off toppic now I like music and what is my Little pony without alot of music

So I'm pretty sure no I'm beautifuly one hunldred percent sure on who I have to thank for saving me from when I was down in my funk the it was none other than the cuti mark crsaders let me explain it is definitely not the first song iv heard in the series but damn shur if it's not one the best I was watching mlp one day and ya know I thought here go just another friendship song ... Fuckin ass then out of no where I was blown away the kiss makeup , the lights, the crashes, the danger, and rock be e de de e dew

All I have to say right now is I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you the cmc

#imnotzecora

so from the bottom of my heart for as broken and shattered it gets every day thank you

You help me so much

Now let talk about something really serious do you believe in simplicity that things just simply happen an that they are all coincidences maybe you believe in faith it can come from strangest places in apparently very ummm... If you believe in faith how far does that faith go how long are you willing to let the Signs just pass you by ignore faith some people get second chances but some never even get a first and if you do nothing if it something ....or someone that is a greater power or forces .... why not at least play along Just to see where you end up

Ok im a guy so naturally I do what guys do I watch porn and please just stay with me for one minute here because this is probably the most important part this is where I the divine intervention made it's first move it a very crucial part to this story so please just stay with me who know here what the rule 34 is ... Oh come on...

#sweetibellohcomeon

Shut you all know it is everyone knows the rule is it's states if exist it can be sexy and there porn of it

so me being the very lonely guy that I was never had being been in a relationship and alwase watching porn I knew for a fact that they did not show porn on YouTube so showering pornsites for pony porn and finding none (or not look hard enough not find what I wanted or worse just being internet lazy) went YouTube and they had ..... Somethig

Clop

Right now I challenge you to go to someone who is not a mlp fan and ask them to watch clop then ask a brony the exact question and compare just their face reactions yeah I had no idea what it was I did after though

So I got my fill of clop now at that time I was also a big anime fan this is the second event that seems to line up just perfectly to be some kind weird divine intervention I was watching frieza react to the video where pinkie pie beats up all her friends to the theme of the smile song and I'll give you a thousand Guesses what video was in description

cupcakes

Now yeah it was a weird video but I did even here it was a fanfic till way later the next couple of web searches we're mostly fan made songs untill ...

My first fan fiction by scribbler of course

#scribbler

#scribblerproductions

#subcribetoscribbler

Scribbler i dont know who you are but if could only realize what a monumental difference youve made in my life I have goals now because of you on I've found love and pepol can say they are fictional chacters all fuckin day I ve got more than that I want to and need to

So let's go back where all began

Rocket to insanity my first mlp fan fiction ever butt you know I think I've told you quite a bit now so ill save some for next time

That where really interesting ...

[isitneccessary]

[Morning Musume ‘18] Haga Akane has no interest in boys, has never fallen for one

(This turned into a bit of an obsessive oshi post. Wota get excited over the dumbest things. That includes both me and the people in this thread.)

[original thread]

1: 2018/07/22(日) 01:56:04.11 0.net

Source is YoungTown

れい@ri_hrk

Haga “Since long ago, I’ve had no interest in men, and I’ve never liked a boy.”

Sanma “Do you see Kudou as a romantic interest?”

Haga “What do you think?”

#yando

10:45 - 2018年7月21日

3: 2018/07/22(日) 01:56:41.77 0.net

What’s so strange?

You’ve never fallen in love with a woman before either.

4: 2018/07/22(日) 01:57:15.72 0.net

Was she a lesbian?

5: 2018/07/22(日) 01:57:26.50 0.net

I stan!!!!!!!

7: 2018/07/22(日) 01:58:43.80 0.net

That’s the best!

10: 2018/07/22(日) 02:02:59.84 0.net

It’s a pretty high ranking thing to say.

8: 2018/07/22(日) 01:59:34.40 0.net

I’m guessing she’s trying to appeal

12: 2018/07/22(日) 02:05:12.85 0.net

Someone who hates men would never become an idol to begin with.

16: 2018/07/22(日) 02:08:34.04 0.net

Iikubo once said that she cancels out her desires towards males by reading manga, didn’t she?

13: 2018/07/22(日) 02:06:15.01 0.net

Her first love is yet to come

6: 2018/07/22(日) 01:58:13.22 0.net

It’s cuz she was always bullied lol

17: 2018/07/22(日) 02:09:03.56

She’s said she was at the top of the school caste at times and that she was bullied at others so I can’t believe what she says.

2. ℃-uteな名無しさん 2018年07月23日 05:33　id：3q.ibW1v0 (comment from matome site)

>>17

Going from Elementary school (Nagano) → Middle School (Nagano) → Middle School (Tokyo) is a big change in environment, so it wouldn’t be strange that her social standing in the school also changed.

19: 2018/07/22(日) 02:10:07.89 0.net

She’s bragged that she’s never lost an argument because she tires out the opponent or says things that make them wanna leave

She challenged Ogata-san (Risa) for no real reason but was defeated, and the fact that she opened her heart to her after that is pretty cute.

20: 2018/07/22(日) 02:11:05.58 0.net

21: 2018/07/22(日) 02:12:53.16 0.net

Her b**bs are pretty big.

That’s nice.

22: 2018/07/22(日) 02:13:24.75 0.net

She fell for Kudou in the all-girls school way

24: 2018/07/22(日) 02:16:32.22 0.net

Didn’t she just like Kudou while thinking of her as a guy?

25: 2018/07/22(日) 02:16:40.85 0.net

I love her.

31: 2018/07/22(日) 02:20:24.25 0.net

No choice but to stan

35: 2018/07/22(日) 02:29:11.64 0.net

As expected of a Reina Child.

34: 2018/07/22(日) 02:28:05.71 0.net

How many times are you people going to be tricked by this lie?

37: 2018/07/22(日) 02:30:18.64 0.net

With that face and those boobs there’s no way she’s not popular

40: 2018/07/22(日) 02:32:06.63 0.net

There’s no way there’s no way.

41: 2018/07/22(日) 02:33:58.36 0.net

People who say stuff like this are the exact ones who suddenly announce marriage and pregnancy.

I know it.

42: 2018/07/22(日) 02:34:45.20 0.net

I bet she recently got a guy and is feeling guilty about it so she ended up saying this.

43: 2018/07/22(日) 02:34:57.85 0.net

The law is idols who say this unprompted always have a man.

46: 2018/07/22(日) 02:40:37.59 0.net

By that law you must think Michishige is a total slut lol

45: 2018/07/22(日) 02:39:25.64 0.net

A real lez, as expected of a Sayu successor

48: 2018/07/22(日) 02:59:01.65 0.net

It would be interesting if she was HelloPro’s first lesbian but saying she’s never liked a boy just has to be a lie.

(”first”)

58: 2018/07/22(日) 06:42:11.61 0.net

In Akanechin’s case, she might actually be a lesbian, which is scary

51: 2018/07/22(日) 03:10:25.50 0.net

Too bad for the gachikoi wotas.

55: 2018/07/22(日) 06:30:51.71 0.net

I always thought she was a fairy girl. I guess I wasn’t wrong

(not the English slur for fairy as gay just like literally a fairy)

61: 2018/07/22(日) 07:14:28.98 0.net

Supposing this is true, when she falls in love for the first time

She’ll jump to the very top of Musume.

Whether you believe it is up to you.

62: 2018/07/22(日) 07:21:04.37 0.net

Virgin big boobed angel Akane

66: 2018/07/22(日) 07:59:43.69 0.net

Girls who have never liked boys wouldn’t become idols

They won’t have motivation.

There’s already people saying this, but

67: 2018/07/22(日) 08:05:38.04 0.net

I wonder if she’s had bad experiences with boys before.

75: 2018/07/22(日) 18:52:27.43 0.net

It’s okay if you fall for me, Akane.

76: 2018/07/22(日) 21:14:53.86 0.net

It’s rare for you guys to think a lesbian appeal might be for real.

78: 2018/07/22(日) 23:50:55.76 0.net

She bought Maria’s photobook with her own money, so basically...

Some matome site comments:

10. ℃-uteな名無しさん 2018年07月23日 18:06　id：u7s6Z.Zu0

Hating men and not liking men romantically are different things entirely. To begin with, wota, whether male or female are like a strange animal more than anything so counting one as a man or a woman is suspicious.

11. ℃-uteな名無しさん 2018年07月23日 20:52　id：bzQt7u1G0

Nechin is strong willed, a celebrity even if it’s temporary, and apparently the daughter of someone with a lot of influence in her hometown, so it’s not surprising that boys would be too scared to confess.

13. ℃-uteな名無しさん 2018年07月24日 12:26　id：mMWQlCrF0

Girls who are strong-willed, beautiful and tall are the type guys keep their distance from.

Obviously you can never know anything for sure, but I do have an opinion on this matter, so here’s a video of Akane gushing about Duu and her favorite girl/girl couple IshiDuu.

This articulate and obsessive fervor is basically how she talks about these two topics at all times, and her obsession with Duu has continued on with the not at all masculine Hayami Umika. 

The thing about Maria’s photobook is true, by the way. She also bought the photobooks of Duu and her favorite actress, Yamamoto Maika.

And then here’s an excerpt from her blog post about Ogata Risa aka Marunee, her second favorite person in the world after Duu. This blog post was a special post where she made a holiday on August 8th for giving thanks to Marunee, like mother’s day or father’s day, but the way she talks about her here is how she always talks about her:

Somehow Marunee,

I think it’s natural for her but,

She totally matches my sense of humor lol I don’t laugh at all at a lot of comedy stuff but,

Marunee is really good at making me laugh.

So when we’re together, it’s super fun~♡ Whenever I’m texing Marunee,

I’m always laughing.

She’s so funny!!!!!!!!!

Once, I told her “I had a really nice dream last night”

And she said “Good for you! Sounds delicious!” (lol) So when I replied “What do you mean delicious???”

“Eh, why did I say delicious again?” was what she said!!!! I was laughing so hard lololol But the thing that made me laugh the most recently was when I wrote her “I love you the second most in the whole world!! Second most! But really it’s more like 1.5th most”

Sending her my love as usual← “I thought you might say that (lol). I thought I might get up to 1.5th place or 1.1th place (lol)” is what she said (lol) For me that’s a total bullseye hehehe I thought, How did she see through me! (lol) She can make me laugh just through text,

Well, she’s probably not meaning to but,

That’s why she’s the best ♡♡♡

Then more than anything, we just click!!! There’s so many things I can only talk about with Marunee... Things that other people would definitely call “gross”,

Marunee will definitely understand.

Of course, there’s lots of things we talk about besides that……... Also, she’s my number one source of healing

Her minus ions are amazing!!! When I’m tired, or feeling sad,

If I hug Marunee, I’m healed…... Thank you so muuuuuuuuuuch!!!!!!! The person who makes me smile the most,

The person who I trouble the most

And therefore the person I want to thank the most.

That’s Marunee!!!!!! lol

Thank you for everything!!!!!!!!!

I love you!!!!!!!

Take this information as you will.

[reminder-to-breathe]

6/18/18 10:32 pm

I needed to write this for myself and nobody else.

I read an article about how to get over an ex and it said you need to remember all the things their new partner gets to deal with now instead of you. So here’s a list of things that I’m never going to miss about you when I was your girlfriend.

1. The way you never wanted to give up drugs or alcohol for me.

2. The way you made me feel so special but yet still told me you had a habit of attracting the “crazies”

3. The way you made me pay for dates because you weren’t working

4. The way I wasn’t ever allowed at your house.

5. The way I was so scared of your mom disapproving of me, and when she met me - she hated me.

6. When your mom yelled at me in the parking lot and you didn’t defend me.

7. You accusing me of cheating on you when I told you I was pregnant

8. When you told me that you’d never forgive me if I had an abortion and you’d tell everyone what I had done.

9. The fact that I had to pay for raves/concerts and vacations and you never paid me back or even offered to.

10. When you told me you bought me a birthday present and it just “never came in the mail”

11. I took a college class for you so you’d make an “A” and you had the nerve to tell me that you didn’t even ask me to do that for you.

12. I had to threaten that our child would have my last name if you didn’t get a job - and you didn’t until the week she was born.

13. You didn’t tell me where you ever went... and one night you went out and totaled your truck and almost killed yourself and your friend.

14. I always had to ask what you were doing and who you were with - you NEVER volunteered information.

15. If I asked you to talk out a problem with me - you “didn’t want to argue” or “we’ll discuss this later” but there would never be a later.

16. You felt threatened by my family and didn’t even try to get close to them.

17. You insulted my mom and told her that her losing her vision was “karma” for her being rude to you.

18. You pulled out a gun and threatened to shoot yourself in front of me

19. You threw my phone against the wall and shattered it because you had suspicions I was talking to an ex-boyfriend.

20. You dropped me on the side of the road with no phone and all of my luggage.

21. You NEVER said sorry or felt guilty for all of it.

22. You were never going to come back to me and you said I was “stalking” you when I tried so hard to see you on the first day of class.

23. You told me if you hadn’t gotten me pregnant - we’d “probably” still be friends.... but not a couple.

24. The night you were drunk at a friends wedding and we listened to a baby cry (I was pregnant) and you were mad at me and you told me that you hoped I could do this on my own.

25. The way we couldn’t ever go out to eat without you getting sick from eating gluten.

26. You’d always eat gluten anyways and be sick and make us both suffer and not enjoy anything.

27. You never wanted to have sex.

28. You never made me feel beautiful - I felt like I had to force myself on you for any physical affection.

29. You’d never sext me back, you would just say I looked so sexy or that you missed my body - never go further than that.

30. You stopped going to my pregnancy check ups after my mom became involved.

31. You sued me for a paternity test the day after Christmas and didn’t even tell me you had done it.

32. You never helped me with our child past 6 months.

33. You made me come home from work early because you couldn’t take care of her the one night I asked you to babysit.

34. You never pay child support on time and you always complain when you have to do it.

35. You lied to my face and told me that you only recently started dating her but when you posted it on Facebook - you have been together since October.

36. You push me off you if I try to hug you for longer than 5 seconds because I just want to feel close to you again.

37. You stopped wanting to sleepover. When I asked you to sleepover it was always “next time.”

38. You told your whole family I was keeping our daughter from you when I wasn’t.

39. Always wanting me to meet your friends and hang around people I didn’t know

40. You always got mad at me for not introducing you to people.

41. You never wanted to open up to me and talk about anything personal

42. You always were so self conscious and didn’t let me look at you.

43. You cut your hair.......

44. You took out your snakebites and tried to look like more of an adult after our child was born but you didn’t try to actually change yourself and grow up.

45. I bought your sisters kid’s Easter presents and we ended up having a fight so they were never given.

46. We were only happy when we were high together

47. You never really liked my friends

48. You’re allergic to cats

49. You have no motivation to go to college and get an actual career.

50. After we broke up, you ignored message after message of me trying to get you to see your daughter.

51. My first Mother’s Day all you sent me was a “gif” saying happy Mother’s Day, you couldn’t even be bothered to type it out or have a conversation with me?

52. You missed our daughters first birthday party to work. Even though I begged you to take off and be there for it.

53. Anytime I tried to invite your family to things - you told me no even though you admitted later that you had just never asked them.

54. You showed your best friend my nudes.

55. As soon as we broke up, you smoked meth again.

56. Your dad was an alcoholic and you always wanted to follow his footsteps.

57. You never thought you’d live past 30 so you felt like life was pointless.

58. You hung out and prioritized friends more than you did me.

59. You don’t go to any baby appointments anymore or even pretend like you care how she’s doing.

60. You made an excuse and said the reason you couldn’t see our daughter was because of my feelings for you.

61. You made me feel like a horrible person for being in love with you.

62. You got me a pair of socks for Christmas and nothing else.

63. You brag about being “sober for a year” constantly but I know you haven’t been.

64. As soon as you get off probation - you’re going back to doing drugs.

65. Always saying you hate your job but never leaving it and bragging that you work the hardest.

66. We worked in the same building and you never came and saw me, not even once.

67. If I texted you something silly, you just called me weird.

68. I couldn’t tell you about all the things I felt.

69. I wanted you to propose some day and you never even mentioned it or thought about it.

70. You told me you’d follow me to the ends of the earth but you left as soon as things got hard.

71. You couldn’t look me in the eyes in the court room because you knew you had betrayed me.

72. We never wanted to watch the same shows or movies

73. You never wanted to take photos together.

74. You wrote me off as “crazy” rather than trying to fix anything.

75. You never pushed me or motivated me to do anything that was important to me.

76. You texted my parents and demanded to see our child when I was in Galveston because you didn’t want to talk to me (my parents didn’t birth her, I did!)

77. You always complained that 25 minutes was a long drive to come see me.

78. You didn’t like to drive at night so if I really needed you - you weren’t there.

79. You were never there.

80. You stopped telling me I was beautiful.

81. You always said “good morning sunshine” until the day you didn’t love me anymore.

82. You told me you weren’t ever going to date again - but you just meant you weren’t ever going to date me again.

83. You don’t give people second chances

84. You say you cut people out of your life but you still talk to them and still hang out with them (??? Seriously???)

85. You overdosed and blamed it on me stressing you out.

86. Everything always became a fight or an argument that we couldn’t solve

87. Your hard headedness

88. You think I sold our dog to “spite” you but it was really because I couldn’t handle him.

89. You totaled two trucks within a year apart of eachother

90. You’re on probation until August because of a DWI offense.

91. You never wanted to see a doctor to try to get better with your gluten allergy.

92. You always relayed information wrong to your family and made them upset with something I didn’t even say.

93. You dropped out of college because you didn’t feel like taking a remedial math course

94. You were homeschooled and never got to learn how to socialize with people.

95. You’re 26 1/2 and still living with your mom.

[alia15]

I Love Me.

A Short Story:

Two bridesmaids in their late 20s gather around a mirror in a fancy bridal suite. They have just gotten their hair and makeup done by professionals.

Bridesmaid 1: “I need to just wear fake eyelashes all the time. I literally don’t have eyelashes. They are non-existent.”

Bridesmaid 2: “Tell me about it. Ugh, I hate this lip color on me; it’s drawing too much attention to my pencil-thin lips. I need lip injections. How much do those cost?”

A third bridesmaid enters the room and lets out a heavy sigh while looking in the mirror.

Bridesmaids 1 & 2, in unison: “OHMYGOD, you look gorgeous!”

Bridesmaid 3: *scoffs*  “Um, OK, I literally look 6 months pregnant. This dress is NOT flattering on me and is really highlighting my flabby stomach.”

Bridesmaid 2: “At least you have boobs to fill this thing out; I have the tits of a 9 year old girl.”

Everyone laughs. At that moment, Bridesmaid 4 walks in the room and catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and smiles.

Bridesmaid 3: “Aww, you look so good!”

Bridesmaid 4: “Thanks! I actually feel really pretty. I LOVE my hair like this!”

Bridesmaids 1, 2 and 3 are perplexed. Shook. Kind of even repulsed to be honest? Hearing a woman speak highly of herself just...does not compute.

Bridesmaid 1, under her breath: “Full of ourselves much...” 

This ain’t right. But sadly, it’s reality. As a society, seeing women being self-loathing and self-deprecating is acceptable; welcomed, even. Listening to a woman berate herself might bother us and we might not agree with what they’re saying, but we are OK with them saying it. Why? Because WE say it. We talk about our flaws -- in our appearance AND personality -- but wouldn't dream of doing the opposite. 

But I don’t think it’s a matter of women not loving things about themselves. Rather, it’s about the stigma attached to announcing it. We’re comfortable talking about our cellulite, our big foreheads and bad skin, but wouldn’t DARE say we think we have pretty amazing arms. 

YES GURL.

So, I got an idea. I reached out to a few of my favorite female bloggers and posed a challenge: tell me what you love about yourself. Don’t hold back, don’t use negative terminology, don’t downplay. Don’t think in order to say something nice, you need to also say something negative (no “My nose is crooked but I still like it!”).  THIS ISN’T AN EASY EXERCISE, but we doin’ the damn thing.

It’s important.

I now present you, 6 beautiful, intelligent & amazing women -- and what they love about themselves. 

Who: Stephanie, from the blog Life According to Steph

I am fierce with myself and allow myself to be who I am, warts and all. I know my strengths, I’m not afraid to acknowledge my weaknesses, and I’m not interested in perfection.

I encourage and empower others, especially women. There’s room for all of us to shine.

I do what makes me happy, not what society tells me I should do.

I am an excellent nail painter (my own, not yours).

I work hard at being a good and contributing member of my community.

Who: Emma, from the blog Emma’s Thing

I love that I have no filter. I think life is too short to not speak your truth, tell it like it is, ask awkward questions, or tell someone they have a booger in their nose. I love that I'm upfront and let almost whatever's in my head come out of my mouth. Sure, it's caused some heartache but it also makes life interesting IMO. 

I love my facial skin. I get compliments on it all the time and, even when I'm having a bad week with random acne or some weird, non-descript rash, I know I still have it very good. I thank my mom for the good genes.

I love my hair! It took me forever to love it, truly. My hair is very very curly naturally and, for years, I had no idea how TF to handle it. But once I figured it out, I finally learned to love it. At this point, IDK how I would fare if my hair suddenly changed on me. I wouldn't know WTF to do. I also love that its natural curl lends itself to not having to be washed very often, and I can wear it in crazy, messy ways without being questioned. 

I love that I'm good at so many things. I can get sheepish about the fact that I can write, act, dance, sing, do comedy, have a good photography eye, etc. I'm not sure why — probably because it feels like bragging and showing off. But the fact of the matter is, yah girl has talent! I'm a Jill of all trades, if you will. 

Who: Christine, from the blog Simply Stine

I am a giver and I always have been. Nothing makes me happier in life than doing random acts of kindness for others. I am in a position where I'm able to bring joy to other people and nothing makes me happier. It could be sending random packages in the mail to friends and family or sending flowers out of the blue. Doing things for other people is just something I've always done and loved doing.

I love my eyes. They're this beautiful blue and they just pop in the right lighting. I've always loved them.

I love that people come to me for all kinds of advice and support.  I love listening and helping people, no matter what the situation involves. I want my friends and family to know that I'm always there for them and I'm always willing to sit down and listen to them. I think we all need that person in our life that we can go to, right?!?

I love that I'm finally happy with myself as a person. It took me a long time to understand that being "different" isn't a bad thing and that it's so much more of a positive than I ever realized. I am ok with being me and everything that comes along with accepting myself. Why did it take me over 30 years to realize this?!?

I'm a full-time Blogger and I love it. People don't always understand what it is that I do, but it's the best job. It's hard as hell some days and it isn't always fair, but it's so rewarding being able to have something that I'm in charge of come together and be a source of positivity and inspiration for others!

Who: Lindsay, from the blog Bourbon & Lipstick

I love my desire help others - be it those less needy, or something as simple as helping another blogger or blog reader.

I love that I don't take bullshit.  

I love my big butt.

I love my work ethic and that I consistently strive to do/be better.

I love how I'm not afraid to speak up.

Who: Emelia, from the blog Dream Big & Buy the Shoes

I'm extremely goofy. I make up songs and rhymes and make a lot of weird noises. I enjoy it- my kids laugh and it keeps life interesting. One of my favorite things I say every day at some point...to my daughter is "Are you ready? Ready spaghetti? Is my little Betty spaghetti ready?" Not sure where I came up with it- but she smiles, and so do I.

I love my eyes. They're green- but sometimes look hazel, sometimes look grey. I get compliments on my eyes a lot, and it makes me happy because I feel that eyes are an interesting part of a person. Someone's eyes can tell a story- and maybe mine do that for people.

Determination- I have lots of it. I've been through some rough stuff in the past 34 years and I always come out the other side. I'm determined to make sure that my family is taken care of and that we are the happiest we can be so I persevere as much as I can in every situation.

I will do anything for my children. It's hard to be a parent- there's no clear cut instruction manual. There's a lot of judgements and opinions- but you need to figure out the path on your own. I'm extremely proud of the Mom I am to Ethan and Bella. Every day isn't perfect, but we make it the best we can.

I can multi-task and love being productive. I am someone who can not sit down to relax until everything is done- but hell if I can't get it all done in like 20 minutes. I will be sweeping the kitchen floor, starting laundry and loading the dishwasher while entertaining the baby and checking Instagram- HA. But for real, I have always had very busy jobs that require me doing a lot at once and I think that helped me as a person be very productive. Being busy and productive and getting things done is a great personality trait in my opinion- work work work work work!

Who: Allison, from the blog AA (ya know, the one you’re reading right now?)

I have a good eye. Whether I’m putting an outfit together, decorating a room or taking a photo, I love that I just know what looks good. If you see me in action doing any of those aforementioned things (especially photography; my second love after writing), you know I’m serious about it.

I have long, naturally muscular legs. I was born with long legs (thanks mom) which makes me appear taller than my actual 5 feet 4 inch stature, but years of walking in heels is likely responsible for some serious calf definition that I’ve always loved having.

I love my sense of humor and quick wit. It comes across in my writing, but in “real life” it’s there, too. I’ve always said I’d rather be the funniest person in the room instead of the smartest or prettiest, and I stand by that. Humor is SO important to me. AND I’M A FUNNY BITCH.

I’m true to who I am, always. I’ve never adapted, changed or downplayed anything about myself to appeal to or appease anyone else. I stand by my convictions and I’m proud of the woman I am and will stand up for what I believe in any day of the week.

My one dimple. One is better than none, and I have a pretty big one on the left side of my face that enhances my smile and normally causes someone to poke their finger in it when they see it, which sounds weird when I type it. I love that it’s kind of a “trademark” thing I have.

OK ladies (& gents, of course!) -- your turn! Leave what thing(s) you love about yourself in the comments. I’d love to hear!

[iluvtv]

Still Watching: A Love Letter to my Mom

The content below has not been censored for your consideration as neither the Real Housewives nor my mother would have approved of such blasphemy.

The decline in blogging was conveniently intentional.

There were other projects.

My career as a TV critic wasn’t exactly gaining steam.

My readership technically wasn’t booming.

For a time there had been an unmistakable fulfillment in my blogging habits.

Full disclosure: this work held undeniable titillation, provoked as it were by the vain echoes of my own subconscious. It was too enticing not to indulge  the ego, booming, unselfconsciously through the page as I “eloquently” deciphered probable intentions of a writer’s room.

But was this self-aggrandizing, albeit surely intellectually stimulating task truly worthwhile?

I kept falling back on this tricky notion of time management. Was taking copious amounts of notes regarding my viewing habits (a laborious task which required endless rewinds and thusly an inability to watch TV with others) coupled with the studious investment of actually researching and writing a cohesive piece which included a clear argument for television as a medium and thereby proving a consistent thesis, truly a valuable use of my time?

Not to mention, of course, the added effort of finagling my mother to invest her energies toward a strong copy-edit.

It was an investment, sure. But then again none of it was necessarily difficult at least in the classical sense of the word.

Actually, the engaging my mother bit was sort of easy. Not only was I skilled at the subtle art of stroking of her ego; “Your attention to detail is just so much better than mine. You are so smart…” I also possessed a valuable trump card which, admittedly, brought as much pleasure as my own voice: she actually liked my writing!

To have known my mother is to know what a huge compliment this fan-dom truly was.

My mother was proudly authentic. She had no shame over her inability to “fake it”.

This personality trait demanded a certain dedication on her part. She was famous for telling my girlfriends they looked like sluts at our eighth-grade dance and embarrassing fits at the market while her younger children tried to disappear into the kid’s seat of the shopping cart. Patronizing eye rolls were par for the course. When a third grade Hebrew School teacher lauded my literary skills my loving, supportive mother made it abundantly clear she didn’t think I was a bad writer but maybe just too… precious?

Admittedly, poetry about attempted genocide from an eight-year-old may hold some tonal issues.

No matter, after 30 years of practice I had found my niche. I was everything she seemed to be looking for in a writer: I would rather drink turpentine than emote and I like really “got” satire. Finally, my words were funny and thusly, the woman who had helped foster this cynical humor had little trouble understanding my intentions.

We fell into lockstep. Her killer, critical eye and unparalleled editing skills were a welcomed privilege. I was no longer precious. A trait which carried over in my ability to “take a note.” I fully understood the value of a critical red pen from a grammar die-hard. Particularly one, who not only had a deep ceded appreciation for my style (she helped cultivate it, after all) but also a keen understanding of the objective, which only a mother could boast.

I was fully aware what a priceless service this was.

And so, I kept watching. My notetaking became obsessive. Whenever I pondered this expense of time, I considered the reality: rewriting dialogue was improving my own. I was becoming a better writer.

Since both my mother and I were committing countless hours to the free and underappreciated service of my viewing recommendations, it didn’t take long for the shows and topics I bothered dissecting to be unequivocally dictated by her unapologetic tastes. Or better stated, my own experience of such.

As an aside, I’d be remiss not to note that in losing both my parents it has become abundantly clear that one’s guardians (especially good ones) mostly exist in relation to ourselves and our already noted inflated egos.

Basically, the television I studied, the theories I pondered, the conclusions I drew had to appeal in large part to Dale Allen Boland. This was a nuanced role. An honest woman of remarkable talent she also happened to be the strict television gatekeeper of my childhood. Back in the 90’s a desire for this blue light pulsed through my veins like an addict in search of her next hit. I hadn’t been picky at all back then. This was a time in my life when even Jerry Springer reruns in black and white, streamed through bunny ears in my Jr. High weight room took the edge off.

To be frank, while at first her editing felt crucial so as not to embarrass myself on the interwebs it soon became clear that the bigger part of my ask was just any sort of consistent audience. In time it became obvious that my mother hadn’t only become a fan, but she was, in fact, my blog’s only fan.

And as any good writer knows, you gotta’ appeal to your base.

It helped, of course, that my mother had been my earliest educator (dictator) of media. The San Francisco Chronicle’s Datebook and the New Yorker were mainstays next to the can, meaning my earliest poos were made all the more pleasurable by the accompaniment of Adair Lara and John Carrol. By 34 I was not only well versed in what she found tolerable, but also possessed a keen understanding of how to stylize this appeal.

Simpsons? Yes. Danielle Steele? Not so much. Had she given Danielle an opportunity? Of course not! But I was willing to play her game.

We both were expending a lot of energies at this point and since any real readership was in the slim to none margins it was crucial that we at least reward ourselves.

In retrospect I understand that this was actually how we enjoyed time together.

After she died my father noted that my mother and I had always shared a very special intellectual connection. A greater compliment than sharing a literary bond with Dale had never been given. In fact, in my father’s wake it is easy to see that this final gift from him may have been the most important. In saying so, he finally acknowledged what I’d always longed to hear. He respected, perhaps even envied not only my intelligence, but my mother’s too.

While I had given up on blogging years before their deaths, my diligent notetaking continued up until them. I accepted that my time critiquing television for free to a marginal audience had not been without purpose (though I missed the motive of the maternal connection it fostered until just now). I am well aware that through my efforts I had gained the confidence to write a novel. I understood that to maintain this skill set a continued attention to television’s minutia was critical.

But then, she died. Suddenly, grief allowed me space to achieve an entirely different and antithetical goal I’d set years earlier and had made no real efforts to achieve: to do less.

Finally I was able to let thoughts wave over me. I allowed flashes of “brilliance” to be fleeting. I relaxed into a space of agitated ease. I exclusively sought joy. In doing so I concurrently and without coincidence leaned into a brand of watching which had always been considered “just desserts.”

Bravo TV became a life raft. I watched Real Housewives and Summerhouse with a certain amused stillness I hadn’t exhibited since my complacent years as a co-ed.

The day following my mother’s memorial I listened to “Radio Andy” on Siris XM in a monotonous loop throughout the entire 6-hour drive home. I slept to Bravo podcasts. I read tweets from Bravo fan accounts during session breaks.

I noticed Bravo was keeping me smiling. The network and commentary was rewarding me with a source to which I could focus. I appreciated the humor.

Two months later my father died. Mind blank I leaned in harder to the quiet blankness this watching served.

But then, I noticed something.

Watching Kathryn Dennis of Southern Charm open a coke can with her teeth in a loudly expensive living room, next to her foam roller it occurred to me that these women were the antithesis of my own mother.

Vicky Gunvalson whooping it up at a classy resort represented everything my mother had no tolerance for.

To see these women as satirical requires a certain level of empathy for their antics that would have eluded Dale.

Their bad behavior was just too black and white. For my mom there would have been nothing charmingly relatable about a woman like Lisa Barlow of Salt Lake City, placatingly sipping a constant stream of fountain soda through a plastic straw while proudly bragging she wasn’t “like a regular mom,” proving this factoid by feeding her children drive through fast-food for every meal and ignoring their calls when she was at a party.

These are women that bat fake eyelashes and scream at each other through plastic pumped lips. They float effortlessly in azul pools in Mexico boosted by the silicone in their tits.

My mom also wasn’t a regular mom but she wouldn’t have found this indulgent brand of opulence at all inspirational, aspirational or relatable. She did not identify as a “powerhouse” or a woman who needed to tell other women that she “lifted up other women” over an expensive cocktail brunch with “40 of her closest girlfriends” all of whom wielded designer purses like coats of armor.

This trope, repeated often throughout every Housewives franchise for the past 20 years would have just pissed my mother off.

It’s not that she didn’t relate to women behaving badly this just wasn’t her brand of bad behavior. She maybe could have sympathized if they’d been wearing Walmart rather than Prada.

Lorelai Gilmore? Sure, why not? Emily Gilmore? Definitely not.

It’s funny because in a certain sense my mother’s proud authenticity and lack of shame in her outbursts would have made her an ideal housewife. But the weight these women put on things and beauty would have been too damn distracting to her.  

In spite of being a woman whose love language was often a good screaming match she would have found any and all of the dramatic fights on Housewives absolutely insufferable.

And in spite of my deep love for the genre, convincing Dale that any of this was actually satire worth watching would have been an exercise in futility.

I embraced this factoid quietly and with little work on my end (other than setting the DVR to catch up on back seasons of Atlanta) I leaned into a space which never would have been tolerated.

It felt good.

It was my own.

In doing so, I came up with a million things about Bravo to share. Perhaps one day I will. God knows I need to create a new fan base.

But before I could even consider either changing the channel or sitting down to a blog analyzing how one housewife’s ludicrous and racist notion that eating chicken feet was somehow any different than eating chicken nuggets, I got this text from my mom’s best friend: “have you seen Derry Girls.”

Maybe an audience was asking for a resurrection, after all.

But as I flipped to Netflix and started a new note labeled “Derry Girls” it occurred to me that I first must come to terms with how much things have changed.

There is a certain level of self-actualization left amidst the cluttered grief of losing my parents. As I write this, I am continuously tempted to take a break for “Mom’s consideration”. Her feedback would have supplied an unrequited serotonin boost, like a gentle promise to my oh so evasive ego that there was purpose in my efforts, that the writing I was doing was valuable. When my mom was alive I always knew that someone would appreciate my continued efforts, making it tolerable to finish, and tidy, and publish. My mother was like a promise that not only my words but also I myself was worthwhile.

This chore of loving, maternal reassurance is, of course, now my own. A truth my mother, who never needed to brag about lifting up other women, would have celebrated.

Nothing would have made my mom happier than me making my own choices, editing my own words and being my own cheerleader Perhaps she died just to prove it. To know Dale Allen Boland is to suspend belief that she maybe could have made her last stubborn point through such dramatic means.

And to be totally frank; that is a storyline not even a housewife could pull off.

Thank you for being my greatest cheerleader. I love you Mom.