#where they offer you more encouragement and go 'good job buddy!' because they think u are a teenager
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the curse of the family baby face strikes again. i have been mistaken for a high schooler at my place of work by a coworker that i have been working with for a whole week. the conversation went the way this usually does.
them: “so are you in school?”
me: “no i graduated.”
them: “cool which school did you go to?”
me: “[name of university]. it’s in [city name].”
them: “are you looking at colleges now?”
me: “...oh. [name of university] is a college.”
them: “oh so you’re in college!”
me: “graduated. but close.”
them, clearly assuming this is my first job: “so, in the work force now.”
me, 4+ jobs under my belt because I am 27 years old: “yep.”
I think this is a combination of genetic baby face, not wearing makeup, having long hair, wearing leggings and simple clothing because i am autistic with sensory issues, oh yeah squeaky autistic person voice, being very short and slight of build, the fact that my glasses are purple, and general social awkwardness. the person who hired me knows that i am an adult probably. does anyone else in my workplace? i do not think so.
#for real tho why is everyone out in the world so much bigger than me#i feel like a hobbit for real#all of my coworkers are at least a full head taller than me#most are more than that#they're all broader than me too#barring one guy who is really lanky but he is also super tall so he is still beating me in bigness#one lady is only slightly taller than me but also much broader#like for real why are some people in this basement so buff this job does not require that much muscle#please i am already the resident chihuahua you do not need your biceps to be thicker than my thighs i am already so small#i also think my coworkers are doing that thing#where they offer you more encouragement and go 'good job buddy!' because they think u are a teenager#i am so sorry guys i am 27 years old u do not need to do this#even the guy who has my case for the 'help disabled ppl get jobs' program is mother-henning me right now#he is shocked that i picked a job that is not like any job i've done in the past. a bit alarmed by that#but like bro look at my job history#none of these jobs are the same#i do not repeat jobs my friend#i see something that looks weird on a job site and go 'yeah that'll do'#also he expected me to take much longer to get a job#like i started applying and a week later i was like 'oh yeah i got a job'#so now he is calling me to ask if i need job training or if he needs to talk to my employers about accomodations#and i am sorry bro but i am good#this is actually less stressful than my previous jobs barring one#less labor intensive than 3 of them too#at worst i could be stabbed by a machine#which is also less risk than 3 jobs i used to do#i know that i am autistic but i can actually adapt pretty well to new environments#mostly due to being thrown into so many throughout my life that i just know how to do that i guess#i appreciate his concern but i think the amount of stress i'm putting him under is undue. like just relax i got this
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Could you post an excerpt of your writing pretty please?
I’m going to do this under the cut so I’m not just filling up everyone’s dash, but thanks for asking! It’s cool y’all are interested. It took me a while to decide what part would be good to share. I thought about trying to pull an excerpt from each of the three POVs, but I think that would get too long to share in a text post on Tumblr. This is part of the scene where the most characters are present at once. It’s told from Avery’s perspective. She’s basically the dyke of my dreams but also....not. I wrote a little more about her in response to this ask Co-author is @arabdyke ! Also, if you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, follow the link above!
One thing I will say about this book is that we aren’t going for anything fancy, more going for attachment to the characters and readability (since it’s so fuckin long lol). It all takes place in first perspective, so we are just trying to achieve something that feels natural. Let me know what y’all think!
“I’m gonna go smoke,” I say when there’s finally a lull in the conversation. “I’ll come,” Ian offers, which surprises me. I won’t turn down the company though. Amanda heads off to some other part of the house while all three of us make our way outside. I take a cigarette out, lighting it. I try to exhale away from Ian, but the smoke keeps blowing in his face. “Sorry,” I crack a smile. He just smiles back wearily. “Do you think Everest likes that Amanda girl?” I ask. He sighs and shrugs, looking pathetic about it. “Probably. I don’t know. I mean, it’s fine if he does.” “Is it?” He slumps again. “I mean, yeah, it is.” “Why isn’t it fine?” I ask, ignoring what he just said. Ian looks around hesitantly like he’s making sure we’re far away from all other ears. He seems deeply uncomfortable. I seriously feel bad for this guy. He doesn’t know what I know, but even if I didn’t, I’d never be shitty about it. He probably even knows that, but it might not make it easier.
“It’s just hard to watch Everest date anyone now...after Gwen was so awful.” “Mm,” I muse. “Well, Amanda seems nice.” Rudolf’s staring at Ian intensely like he’s trying to will him into just spitting it out already. “I guess,” Ian agrees slowly. “Nice enough.” Rudolf kind of rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. Ian just crosses his arms, staring off at nothing in particular. “There are other reasons too,” he mumbles, still not making eye contact. “Like...I don’t know. I like him.” Jesus. Finally. “Aw, that’s sweet,” I tease, not wanting to act too shocked or knowing. “You guys have known each other forever. How long have you been into him?” “A long time. Too long, probably. It’s stupid, right?” “It’s not stupid,” Rudolf cuts in before I can come up with a response. “You can’t help the way you feel.” Ian just shrugs. “Rudolf’s right,” I say. “It’s not stupid.” “It’s pretty hard not to feel that way,” Ian chuckles bitterly.
“Trust me, I get it…” I continue. “I was in love with my best friend too once upon a time, but it’s not the end of the world. He could feel the same way even. You have no idea.” “Yeah,” Rudolf adds. “I mean, he did date a guy once, right? You kinda left that part out before, buddy.” “We were kids,” Ian says, getting red. “That barely counts.” “Of course it counts,” Rudolf insists. “Well, he isn’t gay,” Ian says pointedly. “He literally told me he was bi just a few days ago.” Ian gets quiet and seems confused. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how that could be possible. “He told you that?” he asks finally. Rudolf nods. “He never told me that,” Ian states. I can tell he doesn’t know what to make of this new information. Is it a good thing? Mostly he just looks dazed. “He thought you knew,” Rudolf says. “He said he thought it wasn’t a big deal.” Ian takes a deep breath. “Well, I don’t think that changes anything.”
“Dude, yeah, it does,” Rudolf keeps at it. “You have a chance. That’s something, right?” Ian doesn’t seem convinced. He just looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Maybe,” he says simply. There’s a sense of finality in his tone like he’s putting an end to the conversation. He looks off into space again after that. I chain smoke a few cigarettes, mostly because I don’t know what else to say or do. When I’m about to reach for another, Rudolf takes it out of my hand. “We can go back inside,” he says, handing the cigarette back to me. He looks kind of shocked by what he just did like he acted without thinking. Ian sees the expression on Rudolf’s face and chuckles. “Yeah, alright, we can go back in.”I smile at Rudolf to try to ease the tension. Then I follow them inside, stashing the cigarette back in my pack. By now, it’s louder and a lot more crowded. I don’t recognize anyone, but that’s alright. Maybe it will be better if we don’t see anyone we know tonight. Ian’s surveying the room, probably looking for Everest. He gives up quickly, though. “I might go check things out in the kitchen,” I say. “Wanna tag along?” “Sure,” Rudolf nods, letting me lead the way. Ian doesn’t say anything but follows after us regardless. There are a few people hanging around the table and like Amanda mentioned, one of them’s doing trash rat tats. I greet them with a nod and then pick up some flash sheets sitting on the table, looking them over. Some of them are pretty basic, but some are cool. There’s one of a gory eyeball and another of a fat pigeon that I somehow love as much as I hate.
“Are you getting one?” Rudolf asks, glancing over the designs in my hands. “Yeah, I think so.” Ian looks along with us, but I know this really isn’t his scene. “Which one do you think you’ll get?” he asks. “Hmm, probably this one,” I say, pointing to the eyeball. “It’s so gross,” he cringes. “Yeah, I like gross shit.” “You should see her art,” Rudolf says fondly. I smile at him. “Think this suits me?” “Yeah, it’ll look good.” When the current crowd clears, the person holding the tattoo gun looks at us and asks if there’s anything sparking our interest.“This one’s pretty cool,” I say, handing them the sheet. “Sweet,” they say. “Take a seat.” So, I do. The tattooer isn’t super chatty, but that’s fine. I kind of prefer it. I decide to get the work on my arm in the small space I have left between two stick-n-pokes I got a few years back. Ian and Rudolf sit with me, but Ian just looks queasy. “You don’t have to stick around,” I assure him, but he forces a smile and asks me if it hurts. “Not really,” I say, hoping that’ll help somehow. That’s the truth. It doesn’t really hurt. You get used to it. A few minutes in, a new group of people pile into the kitchen. Amongst them, of all fucking people, is Cameron. Fucking fantastic.
Rudolf doesn’t notice right away. He’s busy staring at my arm, but after a minute, he looks up at me. I must seem uncomfortable because he raises an eyebrow and then turns around. His expression immediately slips as he makes eye contact with Cameron. Then he turns back to me, looking dead-eyed. When Cameron spots us, he wastes no time heading over. Rudolf wastes no time leaving. I wish I could follow him, but I literally can’t. “Hah, of course you’d be into this lame shit,” he says to me, ignoring Rudolf’s disappearing act. The tattooer scoffs under their breath. “Cameron, fuck off,” I say limply. “I’m not in the mood.” “Ow,” he feigns hurt. “Watch it, Avery.”
Cameron takes the seat that Rudolf was previously occupying. “Hey,” he says to Ian. “Hey,” Ian responds, looking unsure of the whole situation. “Who are you?” “Cameron Fant,” he says, holding his hand out. “You?” Ian accepts his hand slowly, giving it a firm shake. “Ian.” God. Who introduces themselves like that? Was Cameron always this annoying, or did I just not see it? “Are you one of Avery’s friends?” Cameron asks, probably prepared to make himself look perfect in the eyes of a new, handsome stranger. Ian nods, and Cameron asks where we met.
“Weight class.” “Why haven’t I seen you around before?” “This isn’t really my thing.” Cameron laughs and then touches Ian’s shoulder. “Well, yeah, this is awful,” he says. “I’ll show you something better.” Ian’s face is red again. Cameron probably loves that. He’s oozing confidence and it fucking sucks. I wish I could tell Ian right now just how awful and disgusting Cameron is, but I can't. Not without betraying Rudolf's trust. Instead, I zone out and stare down at my arm, trying not to listen. Cameron keeps flirting with Ian and it’s honestly the vilest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve seen these moves a million times before, but now, with everything coming into the light, I can barely keep it together.“Cam, screw off, you’re not even his type,” I say before I can help myself. Cameron’s eyes snap to me and he looks pissed. Ian looks uncomfortable too, but screw them both! It’s literally just the truth. Besides, this isn’t something Ian wants to get mixed up in even for one second. He knows Cameron’s an ass, but he’s also charming as hell. I don’t want to risk Ian falling for the facade. “Oh you know fuck-all,” Cameron spits at me before turning back to Ian like I never said anything at all. Ian looks so fucking distressed and I feel bad because I know he doesn’t know how to make this stop. “So, what do you do?” Cameron asks, crossing his arms in a way that I think is supposed to make him seem laid back. “Uh, I just graduated,” Ian mumbles.“Wow, me too,” he says and he just sounds so damn sure of himself. “From where?” “U of M.” “Huh,” Cameron smiles condescendingly. “I went to the Academy of Art with Avery and Rudolf before his lame ass dropped out. I’m a sculptor.” “I heard…” Ian says, wide-eyed. “That’s...cool?” Ugh. Don’t encourage him! “It is pretty cool. Probably the best job in the world. I get to do whatever I want and make all my own hours.” Jesus Christ, he sounds so full of himself. I swear to God he’s a complete and utter fucking narcissist.
Cameron keeps talking about himself and I can’t help but notice that he sounds a little more invested than normal. I keep staring at them, trying to figure it out. Ian certainly is Cameron’s type, even if the reverse isn't true. I guess Ian looks a bit like Jackson, which is funny because Jackson looks a bit like Cameron. All these fucking white boys, man. That might be what’s keeping Cameron’s interest. He’s shallow, after all.
Just as Ian looks like he’s about to absolutely lose it, Cameron gets a text. He pulls out his phone and smirks to himself. “I’ve got something I need to take care of,” he says to Ian. “But I’ll see you around.” “Sure,” Ian responds. “Later, Avery,” Cameron says to me before leaving the kitchen.
Once he’s gone, Ian leans into me and urgently whispers, “Was he hitting on me!?”
Ugh. “Yeah,” I say with distaste. “That’s the guy Rudolf slept with, huh?” “Yep...” I say again, getting knots in my stomach. “He’s pretty crappy.” Ian gives a long nod, sitting back in his seat. “That’s what Rudolf and Everest both said.” Hopefully, that’s enough for Ian to put the idea to rest. If he rejected Rudolf’s advances before, then he’s probably not about to fall into Cameron’s trap. He’s just too nice to tell Cameron to fuck off. When my tattoo is done, the artist wraps it for me and I pull my wallet out, handing them a few bills.
“Thanks,” I say, “This is great.” That felt like forever. Usually, I enjoy the entire process, but Cameron ruined it. Now I just want to find Rudolf. I wander through the house, shoving everyone who bumps into me. I am not in the fucking mood. “Let me know if you see Rudolf,” I say to Ian. He nods, glancing around with me for a few minutes until we find Rudolf sitting on a sofa. There are a bunch of other people sitting around him, but I can tell he probably hasn’t been talking to any of them. There’s a drink in his hand and I can’t help but wonder if it’s his first or his fifth. “Hey, man,” I say. He nods, but with the way his head bobs I can tell he’s pretty fucked up. Man, this sucks. I never expected to see Cameron here. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Fine,” he insists but his voice is high and slurry. I offer him a hand, pulling him up from the sofa and away from the crowd of folks hovering in the living room. “Cameron’s pretty full of himself, huh?” Ian says.
I think he’s trying to make Rudolf feel better, but it doesn’t work. Rudolf just scowls.
“What was he doin’? Talkin’ about how talented and popular and amazing he is?” “Pretty much,” Ian says. “Typical. Was he flirting?” Rudolf keeps wobbling against me, but at least he’s coherent. “Um...I don’t know. Maybe a bit?” Everest reappears finally, clapping a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Hey! Sorry I got swept off! How’s it going?”
“I got a tattoo,” I say, lifting my arm. “Woah, sweet!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to show me later.” “Cameron decided to show up,” Rudolf adds, sharing a look of disdain with Everest. “Oh… ew,” Everest says slowly. “Man, that guy is so lame.” “He hung around, so I left,” Rudolf shares. “God, yeah I would’ve, too…I would’ve peaced right the fuck out.” “Yeah, plus watching him flirt with Ian would’ve made me want to puke. Glad I missed that.” Everest’s jaw slacks. He looks at Ian and then back at Rudolf.
“Are you kidding? That guy really has no shame.” Ian laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, I didn’t really know how to react…”
The tension doesn’t go away. It just keeps building. Ian and Everest don’t know how truly foul Cameron is. They think Rudolf is upset because he slept with Cameron and things went south, but that’s not even close. We stand around for a minute and Rudolf keeps drinking. Hell, we all keep drinking, except Ian who looks like he just wants to go home. “What did Cameron even say to you?” Everest mumbles, pushing a topic I really wish he’d just drop. “Mm…” Ian twists his face like he’s trying to remember. “He mostly just talked about how he’s an artist. He told me I’d like the party scene if I went places with him.” “Gross,” Everest scoffs. “That’s never happened to me before,” Ian confesses. “A guy’s never hit on me like that before.”
He seems put off, but still somehow excited. I wish he wasn’t, but I’m trying to understand. Sometimes it just feels nice to have someone acknowledge you, especially when you’ve been in the closet so long. It makes you feel less alone, even if that person is a total scumbag. “Yeah, well Cameron’s a douche,” Everest snaps. “Oh, yeah, I mean, I know that,” Ian looks taken aback. “I’m not going to keep talking to him or anything.” Yikes. I wonder what has Everest so riled up over this. Did Rudolf tell him what happened? Everyone seems uncomfortable and I’m starting to think that we should just get the hell out of here. It’s such a fucking drag that Cameron sucked the life out of our whole night like this. Too bad my best friend turned out to be an absolute nightmare of a person.
Too bad my ex-girlfriend hates me now because she can’t see how shitty he is.
Too bad I clearly have the world’s worst taste in people.
“Do you guys want to head home?” I decide to ask, hoping someone will take the bait.
“Not yet,” Everest says, his arms crossed. I look to Rudolf and he just frowns. Ugh. Jesus Christ. This is why I hate going out! This is why I hate parties. I literally never have a good time. Why do I even try anymore? I hate having to manage everyone’s feelings! “Okay,” I scuff the sole of my shoe against the floor. If I can’t get these guys to leave, maybe I can make Cameron want to. Then I could enjoy myself again.
#lgbt books#lgbt writers#queer writers#wlw#wlw writing#qpoc#qpoc artist#once again not me I’m white af but my coauthor is Lebanese 🙏🏻#book#self
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Gibbous Chapter 7
Chapter Title: J is for Jerk
Summary: Virgil's life is actually going good for once, Roman aside. However, of course something comes down to knock down the metaphorical house of cards, that something's name being Jerad.
Word-Count: 6046
Warnings: Crying, Death Mention, Gaslighting, Verbal/Physical Abuse, Panic Attack
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A/N: Hello everyone! I told myself I'd update this fic on my birthday and well here I am! *inserts The Emperor's New Groove gif of Kuzco going "This is my birthday gift to me! I'm so happy!"*
Many thanks to @theeternalspace for listening to my numerous rants about this chapter, reading over this chapter like three times for me and being a patient, encouraging friend. And also thank you to everyone who has left such nice comments on this fic in recent weeks, I appreciate them all <3
Also a majority of this chapter's events take place before Chapter 5 just to clear things up.
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Roman aside, Virgil’s miserable attempt at life was...far from miserable at the moment. He actually liked his job, for one. His coworkers were friendly and he found sorting books and putting them away weirdly soothing. He had three actual friends. Something he was still reeling from.
Still, even with these good things his mind was prone to worry. It was annoying. He knew he should be grateful, that he should enjoy it while it lasted. But anxiety isn’t known to be bend to rational thought. That was sorta the whole point of anxiety.
He tried ignoring the impending sense of doom. It had to be just irrational nonsense and nothing more. Except it wasn’t. Something came, carelessly knocking down the tower of cards. That something’s name was Jerad.
Virgil was like 75% percent positive that the letter J in Jerad’s name stood for jerk. Though, Jerad was deserving of a variety of more explicit, foul names than jerk. Virgil, having a healthy fear of death, chose not to disclose them to Jerad himself. Instead, he thought about them, silently, in his head.
But…he wasn’t a jerk all the time; hence the 75%. For as much as Virgil complained about his roommate, Jerad wasn’t that bad of a guy. When he wasn’t drinking or blasting his music of course. It wasn’t like Virgil was in a position to confront him about either of those things.
Jerad let him go late on paying the rent more times than he could count. Hell he wouldn’t have a place to live it wasn’t for Jerad.
He’d been almost eighteen and panicking. When he turned eighteen, he’d be kicked out of the foster care system. While Virgil hated the system, but it ensured him a place to stay and food to eat. Soon that’d be all on him to figure that stuff out. For such a small amount of space, apartments were ridiculously expensive. There’d be no way for him to rent an apartment without resorting to having a roommate to help pay the rent.
It was something he dreaded, because it meant he had to coexist with a virtual stranger. Which really wasn’t different from drifting from foster home to foster home. It still didn’t mean Virgil was fond of the idea.
When Jerad caught a whiff of his dilemma, he’d came to his aid.
“My roommate Robby left me to pay the rest of the lease on my own—skipped town, the bastard. I figure, you can have his room as long as you pay your part of the rent. Whattaya say?” Jerad flashed a grin.
“U—uh sure.” Virgil stammered, “thank you so much!”
“Don’t thank me, it’s what anyone would do.” Jerad laughed, patting Virgil’s back.
Virgil flinched a bit at the action. He didn’t like how Jared patted his back just a little too hard. However he kept his mouth shut. After all, the guy had just offered him a place to stay. Jerad kept rattling on about details for the apartment, appearing completely ignorant of Virgil’s discomfort.
At the time, he knew Jerad as his friendly-but-annoying-at-times coworker. He had no reason to assume otherwise. Especially when Jerad did such nice things like furnish the apartment with a new couch and refused to take Virgil’s money for it.
Sure, sometimes he used those nice things against Virgil when they got into an argument.
“Well since I was the one who brought the couch, I think I reserve the right to watch TV whenever I want to!”
But he was always quick to apologize a day or two later. Such as the incident that happened when Virgil arrived home from the werewolves’ house the first time. Jerad had been drunk that night, yelling and accusing of Virgil attempting to skip town.
Virgil had been terrified. How was he going to explain to Jerad he might not have a job anymore? It was one thing to pay rent late, it was another to have absolutely no money at all. What was he supposed to say?
“Hey, uh, I kinda got kidnapped by werewolves and spent a night locked in their basement, sorry about the inconvenience?”
It sounded laughable to his own ears. Hell, if he hadn’t experienced it himself, he wouldn’t believe it. It was crazy. Paranormal sightings in the city hadn’t happened in the city for years. It was unlikely anyone was going to believe his story. He’d look like the boy who cried wolf, literally .
There was also the fact that he could possibly hurt Patton in the process and…he didn’t want that. Not after anything he’d done for Virgil.
He had to come up with a story that was more believable than that. A lie, essentially. Lying was not Virgil’s forte. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like how it made his stomach churn and his mouth dry. But there was no damn way he was telling the truth.
He paced the narrow length of his room, hands pulling at his greasy locks of hair. A story, a story—what he could possibly say? He got drunk and woke up three states away with no idea where he was? No, no that’s unbelievable. Jerad knew he wouldn’t pull off a stunt like that.
Virgil would have maybe one or two drinks. But never enough to get him flat-out drunk. He disliked the loss of control that came with being tipsy.
Still, Jerad tried his best to pressure him otherwise. Sometimes when none of his other friends were available, he dragged Virgil to bars to be his drinking buddy for the night. He had to come up with something else.
Could he tell the truth and just conveniently leave out the fact they’d been werewolves? Would anyone believe that complete strangers would do such a thing? Virgil wouldn’t.
Amnesia, maybe? A fib about how he got whacked on the head so hard that he completely lost all his memories? It happened all the time in novels and movies. Real life? Not so much.
Virgil let out a pained groan, collapsing onto his bed. He couldn’t think of anything that would satisfy Jerad. Even telling the truth was sure to earn Jerad’s ire. He’d accuse of Virgil of telling a lie even then. There was only one thing that Jerad would believe. It was the very thing he’d accused Virgil the night before.
His chest tightened at even the thought of it. It was just like any of the other explanation he’d thought of telling Jerad; they were all fake. So why was he more conflicted using that one than the others? He hadn’t even denied it when Jerad had brought it up a second time.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, alright?”
Jerad hardly remembered anything when he was plastered. There was a good chance he’d forgotten about the whole interaction from the night before. But there was always a slim chance that he hadn’t. Virgil didn’t like taking that chance.
Okay, he skipped town. That was his story. But why did he skip town? What had made him come crawling back? Think Virgil, think!
His doorknob rattled as an outside force tried turning it open. Jerad. Virgil sat frozen for the few seconds it continued to jingle. He was relieved he’d had the foresight to lock it in the first place. Virgil knew that his thin wooden door was hardly any protection against him and Jerad, a former star high school football quarterback. It was really only a matter of time until Jerad broke through and beat him to a pulp.
Except that didn’t happen. Jerad would never beat him to a pulp—or he’d at least never done it before. There could always be a first time. That didn’t change the fact that Jerad had physically hurt him before. It was only a bruise, here and there.
Drunk Jerad forgot about his own strength sometimes. Sometimes a friendly slap on the back wasn’t so friendly. Still, Virgil had worse. He still had scars left over from high school bullies and the few bad foster parents he’d endured. He never had any lasting marks from Jerad. Only bruises that faded into oblivion.
“Hey Virgin, you awake?” Jerad asked through the door.
Virgil exhaled sharply at the nickname. Jerad wasn’t the first one in his life to call him that. The high school bullies had really jumped on that one. His name Virgil sounded similar to Virgin—hilarious. Truly, comedy gold.
He’d asked Jerad once to not to call him by that. The other had laughed.
“Oh, don’t be such a pussy!” Jerad said, taking a swig of his beer, “It’s true isn’t it?”
“Well yes—”
“Then I don’t see the problem with me stating facts,” Jerad shrugged his shoulders, “Tell you what? I’ll stop calling you that once you find a hot chick to hook up with.”
That interaction with Jerad left a bad taste in his mouth. It was true—Jerad and the others were just stating a fact. Virgil was a virgin. He wasn’t ashamed of it. But he hated how they said it—like it was synonymous with loser. Worse, he was somehow lesser for it.
There wasn’t anything wrong with being a virgin, was there? Or being repulsed by the idea of sex. There was a term for that. Asexuality. He had come across it on Tumblr. It’d been a relief to know he wasn’t the only one. He hadn’t told Jerad. There was no use when he already knew what his response would be.
He’d laugh and tell Virgil he’d change his mind. Or that he was just imagining he was that way. The last one was what Virgil feared most. What if he was just making it up?
Virgil shoved those thoughts away, taking a deep breath. Shit, how long had Jerad been waiting for an answer behind the door?
With a trembling hand, he reached for the door. He unlocked it before swinging it open. Jerad stood there, grinning. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign.
“Hi, Jerad,” Virgil said, attempting to keep his voice level.
“You’re really here…” Jerad’s grin grew wider, “I thought you coming back was a dream or something.”
“About that—”
“Oh boy you missed the wildest party ever—I’ll tell you over breakfast, my treat!”
He swung an arm over Virgil who allowed himself to be dragged outside his room, outside the apartment. He’d been too shocked to protest. He doubted he could wiggle out of Jared’s ironclad grip even if he wanted to. Was Jerad after last night really taking him out to eat? Apparently so, as the two walked through the doorway of a cute breakfast café.
Jerad rambled on the party, but Virgil could hardly focus on his words. He nodded at all the right parts, giving the façade he was listening. All he could hear was the thrum of his heartbeat roaring in his ears.
He moved his food around the plate, merely giving the impression he was eating. Virgil never had much of an appetite but he definitely didn’t have one at the moment. His plate was gigantic. Bigger than the typical American restaurant serving, which was already impossible to eat in one sitting. There was a stack of steaming buttermilk pancakes dripping with syrup. A bowl full of fresh fruit. Lastly, there was also a plate with sunny side up eggs, bacon and sausage. His stomach turned to knots just looking at it.
Virgil, not wanting to take advantage of Jerad’s generosity, had tried ordering the cheapest item on the menu. Jared laughed and told the waitress to disregard that. Virgil didn’t correct him when the waitress looked over at him for confirmation. He gave only a feeble nod, his gaze falling onto the checkered tiled floor.
“You’re my friend, Virgil. No need to go starving for my sake!” Jared laughed, giving him a light punch on the arm. It was just a friendly tap, he knew Jared didn’t mean anything by it. He still tensed up when he saw that hand coming towards him.
Virgil had chuckled weakly in response.
He hadn’t taken a single bite of his meal. He felt guilty—Jared had paid for it and he couldn’t even muster up the appetite. He was too busy thinking about how he was to break it to Jared he probably didn’t have a job anymore. Jared often let him pay his rent late—sometimes allowing Virgil to go without paying that month’s rent at all. But this was different. What if he couldn’t find a job? Would Jared throw him out on the streets?
“Hey Virgil, mind sharing a piece of your sausage with me?” Jared asked, jarring Virgil out of his thoughts.
Jared had gotten the same dish as Virgil. In fact, he still had some of his own sausage left. But it wasn’t like Virgil was going to be eating his anytime soon. Virgil nodded, sliding the plate closer to Jared. The other man dug into it, without saying a word of thanks to him.
“Y’know, you’ve been really quiet, V-Man,” Jared said, mouth half full of food, “What’s up with you? Are you constipated?”
“N—no, I just,” Virgil hesitated, “Why aren’t you angry? Weren’t you mad last night?”
Jared’s eyes darkened and immediately Virgil regretted his words.
“I was drunk, Virgin . You know I don’t mean anything when I’m drunk,” He scowled, “Sure I was worried. I thought maybe you pulled the same shit on me as Robby. But I wasn’t angry.”
“You weren’t?”
“Of course not, especially since you came back!” Jared’s eyes brightened once more.
Virgil bit his lips, “Jared, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Now, now none of that chicken shit!” Jared interrupted, clasping Virgil’s shoulder, “I gotta go to work soon, but whataya say that tonight you tell me where you’ve been? We can go hit up a few bars and get fucking wasted.”
“S—sure.”
“A—awesome!” Jared said, mocking Virgil’s stutter, before breaking into a fit of laughter.
Jared never accepted Virgil’s apology or really allowed him a chance to explain. It was probably best, considering Virgil himself didn’t know how. He did allow Virgil to stay at the apartment. He had even been the one to encourage Virgil to go back to Kirby’s to get his job back there.
“C’mon Virgey, man up! Give some sob story about your mother being in the hospital and the old hag will eat it up.”
Virgil clenched his teeth, “Yeah, Jerad, I’m sure that’d work great except my parents are dead .”
“Oh right,” Jerad said, having enough decency to look a bit remorseful, “Well, make something else up then!”
So sure, Jerad was a jerk that played loud music. He was also a jerk that shared his apartment with Virgil and occasionally did nice things like buy him breakfast. So he couldn’t be that bad of a guy, right? Or so he thought.
-----------------------------------
Virgil’s first mistake had been falling unconscious on the couch. It wasn’t even that comfortable, with its’ broken springs and sunken cushions that smelled like liquor. Even his lumpy mattress was a step up to the couch. Really, fifteen paces and he could collapse on his bed within the security of his room.
Fifteen paces, however, seemed impossible to an exhausted Virgil. He worked a full day running on only a few hours’ of sleep in the last 48 hours. It happened when you were an insomniac. Virgil scraped by with copious amounts of coffee. Caffeine always gave him a pounding headache, but it was better than being a literal zombie. He should’ve known all that caffeine would result in a crash.
Virgil shuffled inside his apartment, lasting a few steps in before his vision swarmed. He swayed, his body dipping downwards in a vertical dive. ‘ Oh, I’m falling ,’ He realized belatedly. His last thoughts hoping he made contact with the couch rather than the floor.
“Virgil!”
Someone called his name. He made a sluggish attempt to move his limbs, still fraught with fatigue. How long had he been asleep? It felt like forever. His subconscious threatened to drag him back into its depths. But alas, it was not to be.
Something shoved Virgil off the couch, causing him to collide with the cold hard floor. Virgil let out a groan. The sharp pain coursing through veins jerked him wide awake. A ravenous laughter roared above him. Jerad.
He must’ve shoved Virgil as a joke. That was all there was to it. Nothing to get worked up over. Still, Virgil was on the couch. Jerad’s couch. Jerad was going to yell at him for hogging the couch when he had a perfectly good bed to sleep on--
Virgil’s breath hitched.
This should’ve been where he stammered an apology to Jerad before fleeing to his bedroom. Like he’d done plenty of times before. Except in the midst of Jerad’s laughter, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Without thinking, he pulled it out. That had been his second mistake.
Because it was a text from Patton. The werewolf sent him an outdated meme. Like one might find from a cringey Facebook meme-page frequented by soccer moms and elderly people. But it was from Patton and Virgil couldn’t help the smile that curled across his face.
“Aww Virgie, who you texting? Did you finally get laid?”
A hand snatched the phone away from his grasp.
“Hey give it back!” Virgil lunged toward Jerad, but the former football quarterback easily sidestepped him. This caused Virgil to crash hard into the coffee-table. Virgil stifled a curse as he rose up.
“What? Afraid I’ll see some embarrassing sexts?” Jerad rolled his eyes, his thumb flicking across the cracked screen. His smile dissipated as he scrolled further and further into the text conversation.
“Virgil, what the hell is this?”
Oh no . There wasn’t any reference to Pat being a werewolf was there? Aside from memes, there wasn’t much on there as far as he could recall.
“It’s a text conversation with my friend Patton.” Virgil swallowing, trying to push down the fear that threatened to engulf him.
“Steven Universe? This guy watches little kid shows? Are you friends with a five-year-old?! C’mon this is paaaathetic .”
“Jerad, please give me my phone back.” Virgil begged, reaching for the phone but Jerad held it high above his head.
“Nah, this shit is hilarious. I can’t believe this guy really thinks he’s your friend!”
“Thinks? Jerad, he is my friend.”
But his roommate just laughed as if Virgil told a joke.
“Psh, yeah right. You’re telling me you’re friends with a guy that thinks puns are funny?” Jerad rolled his eyes, “Like this one, ‘don’t go bacon my heart’?”
“Jerad, give it back!” Virgil growled, his eyes shiny with righteous fury. It was one thing when Jerad teased him. It was another thing entirely for him to attack Patton. It didn’t matter the werewolf wasn’t there to hear it. It also didn’t matter he’d have no idea unless Virgil told him. Virgil’s vision still went red.
He hopped on top of the coffee-table, using the added height to make a better grab for the phone. Jerad leapt out of the way, finding the attempt amusing. They began a chase around the cramped apartment, no doubt causing a ruckus for their neighbors to hear. Jerad continued reading the texts in a mocking, shrill voice. It only drove Virgil angrier, making his reaches more frantic.
They had ended up on their apartment balcony when Jerad suddenly halted. Virgil almost ran into him, stopping just in the nick of time. All signs of teasing had left Jerad’s face. It was blank and it was honestly starting to frighten Virgil how he kept scrolling up the text conversation with a blank look on his face.
“Um,” Virgil began nervously, “Jerad, dude, you okay?”
“Are you planning on fucking leaving me without warning, like Robbie?” Jerad demanded.
Virgil took a step back, “What? No!”
“Then what are these texts?” Jerad demanded, before reading them out in a disgusted tone.
Hi Virgil! I noticed some new apartments going up a couple blocks away from the library. They look super cute! It’d only take you five minutes to walk to work!
I heard there was a shooting near your apartment last night, u ok?
Your landlord should really take care of that, it’s a safety hazard!
Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. Your roommate should be more considerate and not play his music so loudly.
Shit . Shit, shit, shit. He’d forgotten about those texts. Patton was unusually concerned about Virgil’s safety. Or at least, Virgil wasn’t used to other people caring for him in that capacity before. He’d been trying to encourage Virgil to find a better living situation for weeks now. Which was great, except Virgil couldn’t do it for a multitude of reasons.
Finding a new apartment would most likely involve finding a new roommate. As Virgil sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to afford an apartment by himself. He couldn’t move in with Remy because the vamp lived on campus. The werewolves’ house was also a no-go because Roman. And besides Jerad would be so upset after everything he’d done for Virgil.
Of course Jerad would come across those texts. Virgil was certain he must’ve broken a mirror or something to deserve this amount of bad luck.
“Dude, I swear it isn’t like that,” Virgil protested, “Patton, he’s just been concerned that--”
“Oh don’t give me that bullshit! Don’t you see what he’s trying to do?”
“W-what?”
“He’s manipulating you--duping you into thinking I’m the bad guy when I’ve been the one helping you longer than he has! I’ve let you skip rent a few times, let you use my couch, my TV and you’re really gonna listen to him? What has he or anyone else have done for you?”
“It isn’t--isn’t like that! Patton, he--he offers good advice, he’s just looking out for me! So is Remy. He helped me get a new job--”
“A new job?” Jerad asked, “why didn’t you tell me you had a new job?!”
Virgil just stared at him, stomach sinking. He told Jerad this weeks ago. It’d taken a lot to tell him, and Jerad, he hadn’t--he didn’t retain any of it?!
“Why do you care so much?” Virgil snapped, taking a step forward, “I’m still paying rent regardless of where I work or who I hang out with.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all! Don’t you think it’s a little sketch that after you got a little new job, Virgin--”
“My name is VIRGIL,” He snarled, “and if you’re keep acting like a jerk about this, maybe I should just move out!”
Virgil wanted to rip Jerad into shreds and not just with words. Oh no, words weren’t enough. His fists itched for violence, to be red from his roommate’s blood. It scared him how close he was to murdering the 6’4 former quarterback. ‘He deserves it, ’ A little dark voice in his head whispered, ‘He belittled your friends.’
Worse yet, he shouldn’t have said those last words to Jerad. It’d been his third mistake.
He knew it by the way Jerad clenched his teeth, his eyes trailing towards the edge of the balcony. Jerad glanced back at Virgil’s phone and then back at the streets below. He took a step towards the balcony railing.
“No!” Virgil screeched, rushing forward. He snatched his phone away from Jerad right then and there. For a triumphant moment, he held most prized possession in his grasp once more. Then a hand clamped down on him, onto his wrist and he yelped in pain. Jerad. He tugged uselessly to free the grip with his other hand. It was no use. Jerad was so strong, and oh my god he was going to kill him, wasn’t he?
“Jerad, please!” He called out, but his roommate remained resolute in his fury.
He squeezed Virgil’s wrist tighter, attempting to force him to drop his phone. But Virgil refused to let it go, even as tears pricked his vision. It only angered Jerad further. He threw Virgil against the balcony railing. Virgil cried out as Jerad practically dangled him over it, towards the cement sidewalk a hundred feet below.
For one terrifying moment, Virgil thought he’d be sent airborne, flying rapidly downwards to meet a grisly death. It’d be so easy for Jerad to do that. He could get off scot-free, claim Virgil’s death was a suicide. The police would believe him. After all, Virgil was such a nobody that no one would care to look further into it.
With those thoughts swishing around in his brain, he let go of his phone. He watched it fall. Down, down, down until it made brutal impact with the ground like a rocket failing to launch. Jerad released his hold on Virgil. He fell, stomach plummeting as his arms waved wildly in the air. He swore he was falling to his death. Instead his back made impact with the floor of the apartment balcony.
Virgil didn’t stay there. He jumped up at once without sparing a second glance to Jerad. Heart in his throat, he fled the apartment. He ran out of the apartment building, his legs feeling like a pair of unstable Jenga towers; ready to topple at any moment. He kept on running though. He ran until he arrived at the smattered remains of his phone. He collapsed to the ground, hands reaching forward. As he gathered the pieces into his hands, a pathetic wail escaped his lips.
Everything became one dizzying, gigantic blur after that. Virgil placed the broken phone pieces into his jeans pocket. He remembered that. He must’ve stood at one point, cradling his injured wrist with his other hand. He didn’t know when he started running. It just happened. He ran off, heading to a destination he himself wasn’t sure of.
Each breath felt like a struggle, his lungs straining to take in oxygen. The world looked like he stepped into a watercolor painting. Except it was a ruined painting, all the colors running together to create an ugly blobby mess of something meant to be beautiful.
One thought echoed in his mind on repeat. He pushed to keep moving forward, to get as far away from Jerad as possible. He had to put distance between him and Jerad, because what if the ruined phone hadn’t quelled Jerad’s anger? What if he ran after Virgil and beat him to a pulp until he felt sated?
He knew he shouldn’t fear such things. Jerad was a jerk, but he wasn’t that bad. Even he wouldn’t dare resort to murder...right?
However in the midst of the moment, all of Virgil’s fears sounded like believable, feasible things. Even if Jerad didn’t chase after him, there was no way he could return to the apartment tonight, if ever. Even just to collect his meager belongings. Oh god, he left not only his wallet but his hoodie behind in his panic. The hoodie was the last thing his parents had given him--the last thing he had of them.
He choked, almost running smack into a brick wall. He regained his balance halfway, stopping mere inches away. Why had he gotten so angry? Stupid, stupid. He shouldn’t have done that. It was his fault. Virgil could control his temper, whereas Jerad couldn’t help it. Now his phone was broken and he had nowhere to stay for the night. He had no money, no way of contacting the others.
He was going to end up sleeping in an alleyway. A cold, damp alleyway where muggers lurked and he was going to die. He couldn’t count on Patton popping up to save him a second time. He was so weak, so feeble and idiotic, maybe he deserved to die that way. Somewhere in the midst of these erupting volcanic thoughts, he ended up slouched against the brick wall.
Breathe. He needed to breath! But the air around him felt like sulfur poisoning his lungs. Black dots invaded his vision, his head feeling increasingly fuzzy. He was going to pass out. No, he couldn’t allow himself to do that.
He forced himself off the ground, fighting gravity to remain upright. He ran forward in blind panic. It didn’t matter what direction he went, all that mattered was that he kept moving forward. In his state, he could’ve easily ran into the street and got hit by a car. He did indeed run into something. Thankfully it was not a car. Still, the collision sent him reeling backwards, falling towards the cold, unforgiving concrete.
“Holy shit!” Someone cried out, their hand catching his bruised wrist last second to stop his plummet. Virgil hissed at once from the pain the touch brought.
“St-stay back!” Virgil said, stumbling back until he hit the brick wall of a building. Tears obscured his vision, turning the person into a distorted, twisted shadow being.
“Virgil, whoa hey. It’s me, it’s okay.” The stranger insisted, drawing closer. Virgil shook his head, taking up a defensive, curled fetal position. Jerad. It had to be. Virgil wasted too much time lingering in one spot and he paid the price.
“I’m sorry--I--I sorry, I shou-shou-shouldn’t--” He trembled, waiting for a blow that never came. Instead, they fell down beside him, giving him some space.
“Shhh, deep breaths,” They instructed, “One breath in at a time, okay? Can you do that?”
He tried, failing miserably, “N-no--I can’t--sorry--”
“Hey, hey, hey,” The person hushed, “no more of that. You don't need to apologize. You’re okay, okay?”
“But--but I can’t--” Virgil stuttered, sobs scraping against his throat like jagged pieces of broken glass. No scratch that. It felt like the broken, sharp pieces of what once was his cellphone.
“Shit--hey, I’m gonna just--is this okay?”
An arm slung around his shoulder and Virgil tensed. He was waiting, expecting it to wrap around his throat to choke him to death. But it wasn’t a forceful, bullish grip like he expected. No, it was a light, tentative weight--loose enough for Virgil to escape if he needed to. Virgil sniffled, finally risking a look up. Knitted eyebrows behind dark shades met his gaze.
“Remy?” He whispered.
“Hey there, Virgil,” He smirked thinly, “it’s me, ya boi.”
Virgil kept staring with his mouth agape. It was Remy, it was really Remy and not...him. No way this was real. No way he actually ran into Remy in such a sprawling, densely populated city. Maybe he blacked out, Virgil thought as he started laughing. It was all too much. The pieces of his broken phone digging into his thigh, Jared, his accelerated heartbeat that threatened to send him to cardiac arrest. Everything. And now Remy? Remy is here? It was too much.
“Um, Virgil?” Remy frowned, “You still with me?”
Virgil didn’t respond, still wheezing with laughter. He wanted to sob. He wanted to scream. He wanted to keep on running without ever stopping. He didn’t do any of those things. He just sat there as he laughed, gasping for breath. It sounded weird to him; too high-pitched.
Was Virgil sure he was laughing? Maybe it was Remy. Maybe he decided Virgil no longer worth his time. He was pathetic, an anxiety-riddled loser who was going to die alone and forgotten. He didn’t deserve the kindness Remy offered him, he hadn’t done enough to pay it back.
A voice tried talking over the choked laughter. Their words came out stilted and hesitant. It couldn’t be Remy speaking. The vampire was too confident, self-assured in ways Virgil could never be. Virgil’s lungs burned, he noted distantly. They felt like a tiny microscopic arsonist climbed inside of them and set them on fire. Would microscopic firemen come to put it out?
He knew he had better things to worry about. LIke the possibility that he was in a coma and everything leading to this moment wasn’t real. Remy wasn’t a vampire, just a normal, human work acquaintance. Patton hadn’t saved him from the mugger. In fact, he was probably just a fabrication of Virgil’s mind. So were Roman and Logan. Yup, that had to be it. The mugger had actually shot him and Virgil was in a coma. He was lying unconscious in a hospital bed racking up hospital bills. God, maybe he should just stay unconscious. Have them pull the plug to his miserable existence.
But he didn’t really think hard about these things. Not when he was too busy thinking about microscopic cells wearing fireman hats.
Virgil’s vision went black. For a moment he thought he died, or at the very least went unconscious. It took his exhausted, panicked brain a hot second to realize he was squished against Remy’s black leather jacket.
The vampire had wrapped his other arm around Virgil, embracing in a full-on hug now. It should feel threatening, suffocating even for Virgil. But it was Remy , his heart cried out. Remy who liked the same music as Virgil. Remy who brought him Starbucks. Remy who encouraged Virgil to venture out of his comfort zones.
Even now, he held Virgil in a loose, relaxed grip. As if his aim wasn’t to restrain or throttle Virgil but to comfort.
Virgil didn’t trust like that. He took a deep breath--or well, he tried. It spluttered into a coughing fit. He mustered on with his plan. He pushed away, scrambling backwards from Remy. It hurt more than it should have to do it. He felt all warmth leave his body at once. Remy didn’t fight it. He didn’t pull Virgil back, yanking him back into the embrace. He let him go, simply watching him. Remy’s shades pushed up against his messy bangs, no longer covering his red eyes. Virgil squinted up at him. Huh. Had Remy’s eyes always been red? Virgil had never noticed before.
“Virgil--”
Remy didn’t finish. Because by the time he opened his mouth, Virgil already dove back into the vampire’s arms. He pressed his face into Remy’s chest, his whole body trembling as a low, strained whine emanated from him.
Remy, for his part, just hugged him back. No words, just tactile comfort. It was exactly what Virgil needed. His adrenaline fell away from him, like bathwater rapidly disappearing down the drain. His rapid, frenetic thoughts halted to a slow, sluggish trickle. His limbs grew heavy, his grip on Remy’s black leather jacket slackening. He was going to lose consciousness soon, he drowsily realized. Weirdly enough, he wasn’t as afraid of that happening as before.
Remy whispered a question and Virgil nodded. He didn’t know exactly what Remy asked. It had something to do about if Virgil thought it was okay to do something. It didn’t matter what that was.
The words could’ve been anything and Virgil would’ve responded the same way. Because Remy was safe, he was good and most importantly, he wasn’t going to hurt Virgil. Not yet, anyways. With that reassurance, Virgil finally let go of his remaining frays of consciousness.
#thomas sanders#sander sides#virgil sanders#remy sanders#kat writes#werewolf au#gaslighting tw#physical abuse tw#panic attack tw
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Subscribe - Part 5
Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?
Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader
Word Count: 3833
Warnings: Language, heights, fluff, angst
Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist
AN: Don’t want this to get confusing, but the podcast is in italics and the flashback is indented and in italics. I am hoping the indention works on all platforms. Fingers crossed!
_______
Peter sat in the pickup zone waiting for Meredith to get out of school. Its been seven days since your accident, and you still haven’t woken up. It was making him anxious, and he started thinking about the worst what if situations. What if you didn’t wake up? What if Meredith lost her mother? What if you did wake up, but you didn’t want him around Meredith anymore? It was hard not to think about every worst-case scenario with each passing day. Peter’s thoughts were interrupted when Mer opened the back door and crawled inside.
“Hey, Twig. How was your spelling test?”
“Daddy, you won’t believe it!” She handed him the test in her hand. “I got 100%.”
“That’s my girl,” he grinned, giving her a high five. “This calls for a celebratory toy, what do you say?”
“Yeaaahhh,” she yelled, pumping her fist in the air.
Peter and Mer went to the toy shop near Walkman Records. It had all kinds of vintage toys as well as the new hottest toys. After much deliberation, Mer picked out an action figure made of rocks. Peter told her to call him Korg, and she was sold on the name and decided to get him. She hugged Korg to her chest as they check out and went back to the studio.
After dropping Mer off at Gamora’s, he didn’t feel like going home just yet. He didn’t want to go back to his empty, quiet apartment. He used to love the peace and quiet, but now it didn’t feel like home without Meredith. He drove around aimlessly before pulling into a local grocery store parking lot. He turned on his Bluetooth and clicked on Everyday's a Monday episode #29. He turned up the volume as he reclined his seat, staring at the roof of his jeep.
“Happy Valentine’s Day or to some Happy Singles Awareness Day! Yay! Today we have Steve Rogers in the studio. He’s a stay at home dad here to talk about his family life and how he manages it all. We will also hear about his Valentine’s Day plans and may hear a thing or two about the mysterious Star-lord if we’re lucky. Q the tunes.”
Peter clicked pause. “Wait, Steve Rogers? Steve Rogers as in Bucky’s best buddy? Did Bucky know about YN? Did he know YN had a child?” He shook his head, pressing play.
“Thank you for joining us today, Steve. How have you been doing?”
“I’ve been good. How are your twins?”
“Trouble makers if I’m being honest.” They both laughed.
“You have a son and daughter correct?”
“Yes. Grant is eight years old, and he wants his way all the time. But, Jamie, our 4 years old, is a complete sweetheart. Peggy says Jamie is like me while Grant is like her.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
“It is. I feel like children always take after one of their parent's personalities.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Let's talk fatherhood, many fathers would rather work than stay at home all day, but how do you like it?” Wanda inquired.
“I love it. I never found a job that suited me as well as being a stay at home dad has. I ain't ashamed to admit that Peggy is the real breadwinner in our household. She’s a brilliant successful CEO of a mega-corporation, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.”
“Way to speak the truth, Steve. Not many men would ever say that so kudos to you,” Wanda praised. “What is your typical day like?”
“I wake up to work out at around 5 am, which helps me get ready for the day. By the time I get back home and freshen up, Peggy is up and helping the kids get ready. Jamie goes to morning preschool but likes to watch her big brother go to the big kid school as she calls it. She's excited to start kindergarten and go to the big kid school next year because she says all the kids at preschool are babies.”
"OMG, that’s adorable,” Wanda cooed.
“Peggy goes to work around 730 am, and I run the kids to school. I tend to run errands at this point or run home to clean up the house a bit if it’s needed. Around eleven, I pick up Jamie from preschool, and we go do a fun community event if there is one going on. If not, we hang out at home together. It must be where she leans towards my personality,” he chuckled. “Once 3 pm comes around, we pick up Grant from the big kid school. I help him with his homework and then get dinner ready for when Peggy gets home. She makes sure she gets time with the kids before bedtime, and once they're in bed, we spend time together.”
“What do you and Peggy do to get away from the kids?”
“We have a sitter who watches them a few times a week so we can go out and have ‘adult time’ as the parents like to call it. We go out to dinner, see a movie, or meet up with some friends.”
“Sounds like a great system because finding time to spend together is the toughest part,” Wanda added. “We decided to test out something new this week, which involved asking our listeners to give us questions to ask our upcoming guest, and you all didn’t disappoint. YN and I were able to narrow down the questions, and we're excited to hear the answers.”
“Hi everyone, it feels weird joining this early,” you commented. “Our first question comes from Mary Parker, who asks, how do you deal with your children’s bullies?”
“I don’t like bullies, and I’m the worst person to take bully advice from. When I was younger, I was the small sickly kid in class who got made fun of a lot. I always stood up for myself, which led to me getting the crap kicked out of me, but my best friend was always there to save my butt. Now, I get made fun of for being a stay at home dad. People accuse me of not being a real man, and I hate it. I love watching my kids grow up a little more each day and spending all day with them. It’s a rewarding experience.”
“You’re a real man, Steve Rogers. Not many men would admit they enjoy staying home and spending time with your kids,” Wanda applauded, and YN cheered along. "I, too, got bullied as a kid. When I first started school in America, I had his thick Sokovian accent, and I got made fun of for it. Both my brother and I did, but my brother was better at ignoring it than me. I wanted to blend in and be like everyone else, so I started talking without it, and eventually, my accent went away. Now it only comes out when I’m angry or frustrated.”
“I can relate to that, too. Not to get personal in my life, but I mean Mer has come home from school crying some days, especially when there's a father-daughter dance happening at school. Kids tell her things like her dad never loved her, doesn't like her, or that he left to get away from her. Shes come home crying more than once, and all I can tell her is to ignore them, but it takes a toll on her. Kids can be the worst.”
Peter paused the episode and reclines his seat back up. He rubbed his hands down his face, scratching at his growing scruff. This was hard to hear because Meredith seemed like such a happy little girl it was hard to imagine her this upset. It wasn’t his fault because he didn’t even know about her, but it still felt like he was to blame. If only he wasn’t the jackass that ruined everything, maybe things could have turned out different. Peter clicked play to resume the episode.
“It does take a toll, but as she gets older she’ll get to the point where their words won’t affect how she views herself or her family,” Steve reassured.
“Are you like an inspirational speaker or something?” You questioned, earning nothing but a breathy laugh from Steve. “I agree with you. Mer’s a tough girl, but it helps she has two great best friends in Wanda’s sons, Tommy and William.”
“I had a great friend growing up, too. He’s still my best friend to this day. You always know you have a real friend when they’ll be there with you till the end of the line.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself. How about we move on to the next question?” Wanda said. “Since YN has stepped out for a moment, this is from Maria Rambeau: As a guy, do you listen to this podcast?”
“Yes, I do,” he chuckled. “It's very educational. I’ve learned a lot, and I encourage more men to listen because they will get a better understanding of what happens to the female body during pregnancy. They also share helpful tips and tricks that could make raising your children a whole lot easier.”
“Perfect answer, Steve. Shout out to the guys listening to this podcast. It’s an educational experience, and your wife, husband, girlfriend, or partner will love you for it. Moving on, this question is from Laura Barton: With it being Valentine's Day, when was the first time you told your wife you loved her? Or who said it first?”
“I said it first, and we were dating for about two months at the time. I know it sounds soon but when you know...you know. I planned the perfect day, but nothing I planned was turning out right. I took her out horseback riding, planning on telling her but then it started raining, so we had to rush back in. Then when we went out to eat at this fancy restaurant, the fire alarm went off. I wanted the day to be over, but then Peggy pointed to the diner across the street. We got there and ordered our food; burger and fries. She was telling me a story, and an idea popped into my head. As she was talking, I used my fries to spell out an I, a heart, and the letter U. She was still talking, but when I turned the plate around she stopped and stared at the plate with a confused look on her face. Then I said, ‘I love you, Pegs.’ She smiled at me and said it right back. The waitress came over and offered us free dessert because they found it adorable. Now we go there every chance we get.”
"Steve is blushing hardcore right now. I think he may be getting even redder after I said that,” Wanda awed. “What an adorable story though my heart is sweating for you and Peggy. Wish I could say the same for YN, but she's rolling her eyes and talking on the phone. It’s like that work call is more important than her job. I mean, doesn’t our employer understand what the red ‘on air’ light means outside this room. Okay, that made no sense once I said it.” Steve let out a soft chuckled. “Oh, YN, listen to this one, it says I should interview you about your man one week. That's a great idea, Karen, but I don’t think she’d let that fly. She would rather hang out behind the glass, but one day, I may convince her. One day. Oh look, she is hanging up the phone and coming back into the room. I have my own question for you, Steve. What do you think of the Star-Lord series?”
"I do enjoy listening to it. From what you have mentioned about him, he did care about you. But, I don’t know the whole story, none of us do. I look forward to finding out more about him, but it's your call on what you share with us. Although, if I may, I do have a question for YN.”
“What is your question?” you asked with sarcasm dripping in your voice.
“I am taking this question for Laura Barton. With it being Valentine's Day, when was the first time you two said you loved each other? Or better yet, who said it first?”
“Thanks, Laura, I appreciate you helping the guests with questions. For all I know, Wanda prompted Steve to ask this.”
“You will never know,” Wanda said in a spooky voice, making Steve chuckle.
“Okay, um...funny story,” you laughed. “We went to the local winter carnival, which seems super cliche, but that’s how it happened. I mean, did you hear Steve’s story, super cheesy. No offense,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “We were dating for about six months…
“Come on, let's go on the ferris wheel,” you begged. “Then we’ll be able to see everything.”
“Do we have too?”
“What are you scared of heights?” You teased him, turning to him with a pouty lip.
“Sweetheart, I ain't scared of anything,” he smirked, pulling you into his arms.
“We both know that’s a lie.” You patted his chest. “Come on.” You grabbed his gloved hand, pulling him towards the ferris wheel to stand in line. Once it was their turn, they hopped onto the seat and put the safety bar across them. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, flashing you his cocky smile. You watched the world below you get smaller as the ferris wheel took you higher and higher until it stopped at the top.
“Wow, this is amazing. I told you we could see everything from up here.” Your eyes scanned the horizon seeing the city and the carnival lights below you.
“Yeah, you’re amazing.” You nudged him in the side as you mouth spread into a warm smile. He seemed a little on edge. More than usual. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times like he wanted to add something, but couldn’t find the right words. He kept glancing at you and then would look away. His brow was sweating, and his leg was bouncing everywhere.
“Why do you look so nervous? Are you feeling okay?” You squeezed his hand, staring at him with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I'm--I'm fine,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “All good. Never better." He nodded as rubbed his lips together. "Actually--actually now that you mentioned it,” He gulped, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know, it's just um I'm--I’m falling in love with you. You don't have to...” You leaned over, planting a kiss on his lips to shut him up.
You pulled away and rested your forehead against his. “I love you, too,” you whispered, bringing a childlike grin to his lips.
He pulled out his flip phone from his pocket. “Smile, sweetheart.” You lean closer into his side, smiling at each other as he snapped the picture. When he turned his phone around to get a better look at it. It slipped out of his gloved hand and fell to the ground.
“Dammit, I had a year contract left on that phone,” he whined, staring down at the ground.
“We'll look for it when we're done,” you chuckled, patting his leg. “Let's hope your case helped it survive the fall.”
“I don’t need it. You’re all I need right now.”
“We did end up finding the phone after looking for a half hour. It didn’t work, but luckily his SD card survived the fall. It saved all his pictures, including the one we took before it slipped from his hand. It’s actually one of my favorites.”
“I’m not surprised he said it first or that he was a nervous wreck to get the words out,” Steve confessed. “We tend to make fools of ourselves for those we really care about.”
“Aww…I have never met him, but he sure knows how to romance a lady. Wish my husband would do something like that,” Wanda sighed. “I’m kidding, Vis is a huge romantic.”
“According to this sheet in front of me,” Steve read. “Frigga says: She loves hearing your stories about Star-lord. It’s one of her favorite things about this podcast.”
“Thanks a lot, Frigga,” Wanda complained, feigning hurt in her voice. “Just kidding, it’s one of my favorite parts, too. YN never says anything about Star-Lord when we hang out together. Every time she shares something, it's my first time hearing it, too.”
“Do you think he ever wonders what you’re doing now?” Steve asked with a curious voice. “Or if he has ever looked you up and saw you have a daughter and wondered if she was his?”
“I don’t know, I guess it never crossed my mind. The last I looked him up, his company got this big break, and he was becoming successful in his career. Besides, he has more important things on his mind than the woman he used to date in college.”
“You might have a point there.”
“Whoa! Things just took a serious turn, but how about we lighten up our Valentine’s Day edition with one more question, even though YN is giving me the stink eye. This one comes from Ramonda: What are some ways your partner shows he/she loves you instead of saying it?"
“Hmmm…that’s a tough one. I don’t think I do anything, but maybe I do it and don’t notice it. Peggy always kisses me goodnight even if we're upset with one another. She never wants us to go to bed angry.”
“I can agree with that. Vis always wants to hold hands like we’re walking down the hall in high school,” Wanda giggled. “He also tries to make meals from Sokovia, but he always adds too much of one spice or adds the wrong spice. It’s like whenever he tries to make an effort to show he cares it makes me love him even more. How about you, YN? What did you and Star-Lord do?”
“We always did do this one thing. We started off saying I love you like every other couple, but then we started doing a motion, and the point got across without saying the words.”
“Of course, you two would have a secret love language. Why wouldn’t you!”
“Shut up, Wanda,” you scoffed. “I never noticed what we were doing until he pointed it out. I would always put my hand over his heart, and he would kiss my forehead. It became our way of saying I love you.”
“Awww...that is too stinkin' cute." Wanda paused. "Anyways, thank you to Pear Organic Pouches for sponsoring this week’s episode. And don’t forget to surprise your lover as one Star-Lord would do.”
“Good god,” you blurted out. “Shit, did I say that out loud.”
“You did,” Wanda giggled. “Thanks to the real man, Steve Rogers, and I hope you all can join us for our next episode on Everyday's a Monday. Don’t forget to subscribe and tell your friends about us. Have a good week!”
“Are….you...fucking….kidding…..me?” Peter hit his steering wheel between words. Why didn’t Steve tell him he went on your podcast two years ago? Why didn’t anyone tell him you had a kid? Did Bucky know about this? Did he know about Meredith before this all happened? Did Nat? Was he the only one that didn’t know the truth? Fed up with the unanswered questions, he drove to Bucky and Nat's house and banged on the door.
“Hey man, it’s late. What are you doing here? ” Bucky questioned, opening the front door and took in his appearance. “Whoa, you alright man?”
“Did you know?” Peter growled, clenching his jaw.
“Know what, man? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Did you know YN had a kid before I found out?” Peter poked him in the chest, glaring at him.
“Dude, why the hell would you think that?” Bucky snapped, narrowing his eyes at Peter.
“I listened to an episode on her podcast. Guess who was on it? Steve. As in Steve Rogers,” Peter shouted, shaking his head when Bucky didn’t answer. “Come on, man. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bucky bit his lip as he tried to find the right words. “Okay…yes….fine, I knew she had a kid, but I didn’t know she was yours. Steve told me he was going on a podcast and mentioned YN’s name and about her having a kid. Dude, I thought she met a guy right after you, and I didn’t want to be the one to break your heart again because you’re still in love with her.”
“What! Don’t be ridiculous? It’s been--it’s been seven years, those feelings are long gone.”
“BULLSHIT, QUILL,” Bucky piped up, poking him in the shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that because we both know your lying. I bet when you walked into that hospital room and saw her everything you felt for her came rushing back.”
“Shut up, man. You don’t know what you're talking about.”
“Yes, I do. I saw how much that relationship took a toll on you after it ended.” Peter shook his head, staring hard at the ground. “It did, man. It hurt you. You can deny it all you want, but it’s the truth.”
“Shut up, Buck.”
“No, because you need to hear this,” Bucky shouted, forcing Peter's head to snap up at his words. “You have missed YN ever since the break-up. Sure, you tried to find what you had with her in other girls but you couldn’t. YN was the one for you, man,” Bucky added. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell her the truth about what happened? I mean," Bucky sighed, shaking his head. "You didn’t--you didn't even chase after her or fight for her, man. You watched her walk away, and you regretted it. Of course, you’re too stubborn to admit it to me or yourself, but when she stepped out of your life you lost the best thing that has ever happened to you”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I though?” Bucky countered, waiting for a smart ass reply from Peter but got nothing. “Ever since Mer has come into your life, I haven’t seen you this happy since you were dating YN. Ignore me, listen to me, I don’t care anymore, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Quill,” Bucky waved, closing the door between them.
Peter nodded, walking back to his jeep with his hands in his jacket pockets. He reached the driver's side door and stared at his reflection in the window. Peter hated how Bucky was right about everything. He let you slip through his fingers without even trying to explain what happened. He watched you walk away and disappear into a crowd of people heartbroken because of him. He fucked up, and he did it all to himself. It's like every breakup song he has ever heard, person A doesn't know what they have until person B is gone. He missed how happy you made him feel every day he was with you. He just hoped there was still enough time for him to fix all the mistakes he made.
______
AN: This was a fun podcast to write because I thought of taking it so many different ways with Steve before I settled on this one. I knew right away that Steve was going to be a stay at home dad because let's be honest Peggy wouldn't stay home. Haha! We got another glimpse into the reader and Peter’s life together. Any ideas about what might have caused their breakup? What did you all think about Bucky’s bluntness and honesty when Peter showed up at his house? I think you always need that one honest friend in your life that will tell straight up; you fucked up. That's is the kind of relationship I wanted to show Bucky and Peter having, or at least that is what I was going for. Talk about a long ramble!! Comments always welcome and thanks for reading. Have a good day!
#Star-Lord#star-lord x reader#star lord au#peter quill#peter quill au#peter quill x reader#peter quill reader insert#peter quill image#marvel#marvel fanfic#Marvel AU#marvel fanfiction#GotG#guardians of the galaxy vol 2#Guardians of the Galaxy#chris pratt
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ok its ya girl back at it, same deal ! if u wanna plot just HMU or LIKE THIS and i’ll come to you ! wes is my father & u can peep his pinterest board HERE !
⌈ chris pine, cismale, he/him ⌋ hey, is it WESLEY BIGELOW that you’re looking for? you know, the THIRTY-SIX year old CARPENTER. typically i see them hanging around GRISTOL DOCKS so you could try there! i hear they’ve been in living in PRINCETOWN for THIRTY-SIX YEARS. gristol wouldn’t be the same without them, right? anyway, whenever i see them they make me think of waking up before dawn, an old rowboat sitting in still water & a kitchen full of fresh produce.
tw: car accident & illness
this mans has lived in town his entire life!!! his parents, william and rose bigelow owned a historic farm . willy & rose were high school sweethearts, a shotgun wedding joining them together after rose ended up pregnant with their first child at the age of 19. while rose’s parents were furious with their daughter for being so reckless, william’s father was more than happy to offer them a place to stay and lend a hand taking care of the baby that would soon be on the way.
despite the circumstances, wes was never treated as an accident or a mistake. he grew up in his grandpa’s farmhouse with a loving family. the bigelow family followed some pretty traditional gender roles. wes’ dad and his grandpa would wake at the crack of dawn and work out in the field until sunset while his mother hung around the house to take care of him, doing laundry, making dinner, taking him to the park, everything.
from a young age he was encouraged to help out on the farm but being the mama’s boy he was, he was far more eager to help his mom out with the cooking and the laundry. he was close with his grandfather as well, the two always working on little projects together like building a tree house, birdhouses, his own bee house………………….a lot of houses
but wes was never rly close with his father. william wasn’t much of an emotional or talkative guy, usually just sitting there in stern silence and working the day away. a bit of a scary guy despite not ever doing anything scary?? he’s just an ominous guy that doesn’t rly seem impressed by anything so wes never rly knew where he stood u know.
the one time wes ever really felt close to his father was when they would take little weekend fishing trips together, even though they didn’t really speak. just the fact that william took his time to teach wes how to do everything and didn’t get mad or frustrated when he lost a lure or let a fish go by accident was enough to like…..send the message. that was his way of showing his love u know.
the second bigelow child was welcomed when wes was a kid and while at first he was jealous that his new baby sister was getting all the attention, having a baby around the house was kind of fun. she’d make funny faces and funny noises and he grew to love her pretty quickly. he used to always say that his baby sister was the best thing that happened to him. when she got older, he taught her how to make mud pies and how to play pranks on grandpa who was a rly good sport, all things considered.
car accident & death tw !! the winter of ‘94 would prove to be the worst winter of wes’ entire life. on the way back home to pick up a christmas tree from a nearby farm, the family’s old pick up hit a patch of black ice and ended up flipped into a ditch. it was a bad wreck. luckily his grandpa and sister were safe at home during the time of the crash, but wes and his parents weren’t so lucky, his mother being the unluckiest of the bunch. they were stranded in the middle of the road for two hours before anyone showed up for help and by the time they arrived, it was too late for rose, who got the worst of the injuries. doa at the hospital while wes and his dad walked away with mostly minor injuries. that year, there was no christmas tree and no presents. christmas dinner was replaced with takeout and no one said a word.
illness & death tw !! not long after rose passed away, grandpa bigelow got some bad news. lung cancer that no one really saw coming. just a few months after the diagnosis they were having another funeral for another member of the bigelow clan.
it was a tough year, but they got through it. wes did his job to step up and do all the things his dad couldn’t do; all the things his mother taught him. he expected all of it to make his dad more closed off but it had the reverse effect and for the first time in his entire life, wes and his father had heart to heart conversations.
jump forward to high school and things finally felt like they were back to normal. william wasn’t dating yet but he wasn’t being all that anti-social, either.
wes discovered quickly he was the kind of person that other people liked and he was quite popular??? he made good grades, played football, dating the coolest girl in school (in his own opinion ofc), everything kind of fell into place for him in high school
and then after high school he…………didn’t rly know what to do asdj;fdksgfkdlj he never went to college and decided work around town doing odd jobs and saving some money so he could go off and travel and live his life as a young person craving adventure.
he was gone for abt a year or so before coming back home & he’s just been here ever since, doin his thing
started working with a family friend in his shop, doing what he loved and building things n working with his hands u know and hasn’t stopped doing what he loves ever since
he owns his own shop now & builds custom furniture
the….personality section has Arrived
he’s quite the Charming guy but he talks WAY too much
definitely the kind of guy who will just…..talk about himself non-stop without even realizing it ?? he needs to get his Ego in check even after all these years smh
buT he’s very good at making conversation and is rly a friendly guy!!!! will talk and joke with anyone just because……why not ?? it makes his day when ppl talk to him so he will talk to u even if u dont feel the same way
highkey the kind of person to start up a random conversation w a stranger in the grocery story just because
lowkey uncomfortable with feelings and still isn’t super great at expressing emotions and his thoughts but ya boi is trying his best
but he’s rly good at picking up on signals. he can’t express his own emotions but he’s like….pretty in tune with other ppl
a very platonically affectionate guy. loves hugging his buddies and telling them how much he loves & appreciates them
and now for the lil extra tidbits
he’s got two dogs. a german shepherd named mulder & a pomeranian named scully sfddgfhgfg and he strategically uses his dogs to flirt w ladies when they’re out on a walk LMAO
he’s got a 6 year old daughter named aspen with a woman he is no longer dating ( im prob gna put this as a wc on the main so if u want this....hmu???? ) but they are still v close and spend a lot of time together & he loves aspen more than anything :’)
he’s very much a Dad. dad jokes all the time. endless shitty puns for everyonE
the man loves a turtleneck. he can’t keep his hands off a good ass sweater u know ??
he loves to cook and is v good at it, since he’s been cooking his entire life. he is the self-proclaimed kind of bbq and honestly???? he’s always throwing lil bbq parties & they are a hit :/ u know he be winning contests w his grilling bro
obviously.........a handyman. the house he lives in now, he built himself after tearing down the old on. he built himself a nice big deck and everything so he can have a nice place to host bbqs and everyone will come compliment him on hard work and enjoy his fantastic recipes
he runs his own business building & selling furniture!!!! need a shelf installed??? give him a call. dog chewed up ur table leg??? give him a call. house burned down???? give him a call he’ll build u a new one.
what’s better than this ??????????? guys bein dudes
he rly likes going to the movies. lowkey loves disney but pretends he only cares bc his daughter likes it but……….u know he knows the words to every song
tragically heterosexual ://///////
he loves strong coffee & he loves beer & occasionally he loves a good book & a nice game of chess
did i mention he is such a dad bc………..he is such a dad
someone hold his rough sandpaper ass hands
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sincerely yours. c text
JIZZ for Jesus 1 minute 15 seconds/ short.
My being single was a topic that has worried my 85 year old father.
a treasure chest of anxiety who had anointed himself my dating guru.
Every week he comes up with a new line of advice.
The first was that I should go to church and find a nice guy.
Ah ok, but Church is centered around redemption themed activities.
What am I going to do- tell someone
"hey. I ah just saw the way you placed your lips to that chalice- and it got something going down here
He thought about it some more and came back with-
["Hey Jo! You know what?"
That's the way my dad always speaks, in a tenor most people reserve for an extreme emergency, like a school evacuation.
"These guys are no good.
Nah. Not like how they used to be.
So you fuck 'em Jo. Take what you need and get outta there. Don't be a whore but just get what you need."
Okay dad. Very different types of advice but thank you.
So I figured out a way to combine the two bits of information. It's a little program I like to call Jizz For Jesus.
Just vats of cum in my face in the name of our lord and savior.
Just trying to be a good daughter. ]
Then he goes " HEY Jo"
That tone means he doesn't want my mom to hear.
What Dad.
"Are you a lesbian?"
No Dad.
"ok well I want you to know it's ok."
thanks.
"well.... do you know what they do?"
who?
"The LESBIANS!!! how do they do it"
Dad. We're done here.
ST HORROR
Catholic interior design is amazingly bold.
Where else would you be able to get away
With that focal point?
Imagine walking into the grocery store to get some ice cream
And you saw a statue of someone over the cereal aisle
life size
Just bleeding.
Then another one by the ice cream
Smiling while a gentle breeze rolls
Through his luscious locks
And sun illuminates down upon him.
And everyone else was like oh yeah.
That’s our good buddy Ralph.
He helped to make this place.
No worries just keep hoping for a good life and
Get all your groceries into a cart.
Or just rolling up to your first soccer game
And over the goal net
there’s a photo of your neighbor,
Mr. Gershon who served in Vietnam
And passed away last year.
Just bleeding profusely.
And everyone’s just like oh yeah.
He sacrificed for us.
No worries here’s an orange slice ad some high c fruit punch.
It’s just how you avoid hell.
Did you bring in money for team photo?
And how’s your fundraising going for the new jerseys.
FIREY PITS
The whole concept of hell gets so left behind.
It becomes this thought in the back of your mind,
To Avoid the fiery pit.
Really the church needs a revamp.
Instead of a fiery pit just start telling people
They will get zero likes on their posts
If they don’t comply.
Watch pews fill up.
GOOD TO KNOW the Bible
Dad the only person who invited in Jehovahs they multiplied.
The he…
Years later they still came to visit him so we had to do what I like to call reverse bible chats.
It always starts with a lead in question
“Do you know…” and they insert a bible verse.
It’s a trap like when your friend asks you if you know someone else-
Either they talked shit about you or you are going to hear shit talked about them.
But when it’s bible rhetoric it’s so easy to just listen
And hit them with
Dueternonmy
Or
Corninthians and just put in random numbers.
Then conclude with your own opinion.
And they walk away.
OFFERING OTHER SALVATION
Just so odd
What other types of salvation?
Some like weird cheese
Do it out
BIBLICAL HERO
Take a quiz to see what type of biblical hero you are
Moses
Mary Magdalene cuz she’s a hoe
How did they have hoes in the Bible?
I’d like to see a Moses parting the seas of peers who are holding back orgasms
And older ladies shaming for wearing too short skirts and saying well you asked for it,nder their breath
And he just bellows out
“Let my whores go”
Then they walk to a land where
they create amazing porn for ladies and general
healthcare that covers all forms of birthcontrol
*
PORHN HUB THE WORLD
More than the bible, The answer is porn
if there were as many categories on porn hub
As there were ideas for world peace and conservation
We’d be all set.
LADIES NIGHT
We need more categories for porn by ladies.
Just liven it up make it more representative.
Less filthy next door neighbor taking big dicks
Reading a book and getting your nips tweaked
Getting your ass eaten while watching cute animals lick their faces
Finishing a craft while on top - look how cute his eyes are, and then you just go to outer space
Eating lasagna while anything
LADIES ARE MORE DANGEROUS
More outlets for female intelignece and for ladies to cum.
That combo creates a burtito cloud of peace with melted cheese around the female psyche.
This is essential.
Ask any dude who is pissed off a crazy eyes girl.
Who was just one two many break ups deep.
There are absoultely crazy guys
But they more start a ned narrative that didn’t happen
Or if something was wrong they just avoid and deny.
Pretty Much All Ladies will say-
Ok let me find your birth record,
Then trail onto you best friend from preschool
Take a flight to New Orleans- get a witch
Dig up a dead body and procure the two pinky fingers as payment
Rally up anyone else who hates you
Put their soul in a doll, send it to your house
Then around 10pm give you 3 hearts on insta to hide the evidence.
That���s day one.
*
STORY- ME
*
( How sexual repression makes you into a vengeful person)
FOR REAL REVENGE.
Girls who are all about the revenge you generally can find zero social media presence on them
And they like to do control based things
The girl in your office
Keep talking about going to sweet greens
Or paint night
They are the mid level managers of the world who Marshall over every event and
When you go out to dinner make sure that everyone is paying the exact amount
THE REAL REGINA GEORGRE
I have no idea why people are obsessed with teenager Regina Georges
Because the real assholes are
repressed, undersexed mothers with body image issues
Who feel as if their children have stolen their lives
BECUASE FAIR IS FAIR.
They begin to not even see it as revenge.
It’s just fairness.
Because they have been taught to be nice and they are seething.
COME A LONG WAY
We’ve come a long way sexuality from
Your aunt who has the solid Ronald mc Donald hair cut and a long short chino
With a polo shirt
To
[50k categories and several articles]
MONGOOSE.
VALIDATION STATION.
Repression in females comes from mis placed validation
The validation that seems promised from being nice and doing the right thing.
AND JEALOUSLY
AND WORRIED UR FMAILY WILL REJECT U FOR SPOILING THE GOODS
Jessica simpson?
Take most of the single males you know perhaps they are sad,
But they will general find a hobby, pussy, or both.
When the barrier to entry of pussy gets to expensive, psychotic, difficult or all three.
They will resort mc guyver like tendencies to find ingenuity.
Take most females who are single.
They will use the same ingenuity to gain validation from friends and family
Which includes carrier achievement and marriage.
When the Barriers to entry become challenging they become crazy.
THAT FRIEND.
If you have been single over twenty eight you have have 100 percent taken a turn
Into crazy town. Driven straight through then taken a right into county love town.
It looks so much more intense when it’s your friend doing it
There rare two options for yourself and that friend,
A) you’ll make it by having a life and randomly crying to ColdPlay
B) you will spend all your time trying to find someone like a person who has lost
A puppy.
MISPLACED.
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS
This is so insane.
DOWRY
This starts with our parents,
you chose in your family but I like to blame my mother.
But my dad is to blame to b/c his standards are just wanting me minimally taken care of he’d be like
do you have a car?
A job?
Ok here’s 10k
Remember she likes cheese.
Bye baby remember to turn the lights off.
MOTHER SHAME.
JENNER WORLD
Pretty soon moms will be fighting over how many likes their daughter gets.
(Play on how moms compete for girls getting career + marriage)
end on marriage
The moms who are exactly the same as Kris Jenner
And there’s a lot
Except
Kris is a narcissist who pairs her daughter up with dudes that aren’t great.
Or at the every least doesn’t encourage them to leave.
Lots of moms are like this- they loose their daughter and their daughters
“Wins” a happy marriage.
The only difference is these girls wear bikinis instead of a nice tailored slack.
But who is the influencer of the influencers?
Do the equation and you will always come up Oprah.
Just do it out. Oprah.
And she doesn’t even have instagram.
And who is her influencer? Maya angelou?
So strong black women. Mostly BBW.
PRECIOUS MOMENTS
Maybe there’s an age where repression just starts settling in
And people look at the people in their family
Who came before them
As precious moments statues.
Ummm just a quick refresh your moms
Vagina was once a beatiuous place holder for jizz.
And grandma probably took a load
And not just to the laundry
Why do you think she carries all those werthers?
Just our old friend science.
****
JESUS INVENTED BROS
FEMALE VERSION OF BROS
PRODIGY KIDS
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Entry 075 - Doop
Art by Mike and Laura Allred
Name: Doop
Code Names: Doop
First Appearance: X-Force #116 (July ’01)
Powers: Is there anything he can’t do?
Teams Affiliation: X-Force, X-Men
About
Comics are weird. No, weird isn’t a descriptive enough word. Some comics are gritty, straightforward, planted firmly in reality. Some are epic tales of gods, monsters, swords and sorcery. Others are vibrant sci-fi adventures with roguish heroes and dastardly villains. Others still are stories of hope, the importance of a single man who decides to make a difference in the world. What shared universe superhero comics allow is the synthesis, the blending of these ideas into one world. In that world, Grant Morrison can relaunch X-Men as a sensible subculture of mutants protecting a world much like our own. And at the same time, in the same franchise, in the same line, you can have Peter Milligan and Mike Allred introduce their pop art skewering of reality TV celebrity culture. This bizarre, paradoxical world is the only place Doop could exist, and we are all better for it.
You might need this
No one is quite sure where Doop came from. Some say he was created by the US government at the height of the Cold War to combat the Communist menace. Others say acclaimed Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman drew in the margins of his script for The Seventh Seal and he was willed into being. The exact mechanism of his creation didn’t much matter, Doop simply was. He left home at a young age to practice his art, documentary filmmaking and was met with critical acclaim. He took many lovers, saying both male and female would be too restrictive for Doop, and met many friends, including a close bond with Wolverine, but he wasn’t fulfilled. He therapist encouraged him to broaden his horizons past the arty, European documentaries he was making and set his sights on Hollywood.
Art by Federico Santagati and Laura Allred
After a messy affair on a casting couch, Doop got a job documenting the adventures of the new X-Force. It was a cultural sensation. The team showed what happens when superheroes stop being polite and start getting real, and audiences ate it up. Merchandise adorned with Doop’s image flew off the shelves. Doop plushies were the hot toy at Christmas. As long as Doop kept the camera rolling, his residuals kept rolling in too. Doop was there recording everything when X-Force shocked the world. An attempt to save the pop group Boyz R Us went south and Doop, U-Go Girl, and the rookie Anarchist were the only surviving members of the team.
Art by Mike and Laura Allred
Doop stayed behind the camera to chronical the misadventures of this new team. He was drawn into the action when he popped a pimple on his head that sucked the members of X-Force into the mind of Doop. He dove into the cavity in his own body to rescue his cash cows from the nightmares that lurked in the mind of Doop. The mind of Doop is hard to put into words. It is absurdist, post-modern, cartoony and it is both all and none of those things at the same time. It was truly a world unlike any other.
Art by Mike and Laura Allred
Doop continued his filming as X-Force became X-Statix. He opened Doop Kiddies Hospital and got rid of the bodies that X-Statix happened to accumulate. He teamed up with his old buddy Wolverine to go on a noir caper and added drama to X-Statix by leaking an incriminating tape featuring El Guapo. Russian terrorist captured Doop and used his brain attack X-Statix. This drew the attention of The Avengers whose intervention caused pieces of the mind of Doop to be spread across the globe. Doop survived thanks to the backup brain in his butt and X-Statix battled the Avengers for the pieces of his brain. Doop himself got in on the action, battling Thor to a standstill. X-Statix restored their friend but the team decided to close up shop. Some say they were killed in a hail of gunfire, others say they simply retreated into the margins to be forgotten. Whatever the case, the X-Statix were no more.
Art by Mike and Laura Allred
Polaris claimed to see a creature who looked like Doop. A creature known as Daap who never spoke a word, but it was a difficult thing to verify. When the island nation of Utopia was formed, Wolverine dreamed that his lost friend oversaw enforcement the law. Or perhaps Doop dreamed of that dream. Regardless, Wolverine enlisted Doop to work at the Jean Grey School. The faculty often questioned his role there, as well as his subversive lifestyle, but Logan knew the reason. Seducing the members of the school board or battling Satan himself with the power of funk, Doop was the school’s protector. If the League of Nazi Bowlers wanted to attack, he would strike before they could. If an alien invasion needed thwarting, he would team up with Howard the Duck to push them back. He was the hero that Westchester needed, but not the one it deserved. He was a silent guardian, a watchful protector, the Doop knight.
Art by Mike and Laura Allred
During his tenure at the school, the original five X-Men were brought to the present. This made a lot of people very angry and was widely regarded as a bad move. In the midst of the X-Men trying to send them back to their own timeline, Doop confessed his love to their mentor, Kitty Pryde. He floated down on one knee and presented her with a ring made of rancid meat. She was confused, disgusted, and intrigued. To prove his love, Doop took Kitty to his home. It was the place between panels, the margins of the book, the world that begins where the story stops, it was Doopspace. They ate at Chateau Du Armpit Hair, watched The Cinema of Emptiness, and played games at the carnival of chaos. He asked Kitty to be irrational, to feel with her heart and not think about it. Doop let Kitty return to the story and stayed in the margins where he discovered that a future version of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had infiltrated the X-Men. He darted into action but was held back when Raze threatened to reveal a dark secret he learned from Doop’s mother.
Art by David Lafuente and Laura Allred
Doop was faced with his greatest fear, but after a pep talk, he decided to face Mama Doop and finally understand his past. Now Doop had long subscribed to the belief that he was created when Ingmar Bergman scribbled in the margins of his script for The Seventh Seal, but the truth was that Bergman didn’t create him. Mama Doop blamed Doop’s creation on Papa Doop leaving their family, she told him that he ruined their marriage and he couldn’t argue because he had never seen his parent together. The truth sent Doop into a mental breakdown that was only stopped by his buddy Wolverine defeating Mama Doop and getting the actual truth from her. She revealed that Doop came from a race of asexually reproducing hermaphrodites, Mama Doop and Papa Doop were one in the same.
He and Kitty had a heart to heart about the revelation and Doop rescinded his offer of marriage. Kitty tried to talk him back into it but Doop revealed his grand gambit. Doop really just wanted to help Kitty make a decision she never thought she could. Kitty didn’t want the original X-Men to go back, not if it wasn’t on their own terms. Kitty stood against the school she loved and the friends she cherished to help her X-Men. And Doop? Doop returned to the margins where he remains today.
Art by Duncan Fegredo
Must Read
There are two issues to sum up the mystery that is Doop. One is a silent issue of X-Force that revels in the pop art absurdity that built the character and the other is a day in the life of the X-Men’s floating green potato. Wolverine & the X-Men #17 is a respite from the chaos of Avengers Vs X-Men tie-ins, simply showing what Doop does at the school. With beautiful art by creator Mike Allred, and Jason Aaron writing his peak zany goodness, it is a fantastic one shot that is worth the time.
Ary by Mike and Laura Allred
Ranking
I am going to upset people with how high Doop is going to go. The more I read and researched for this article, the more I remembered how much I love Doop. He is an X-Men character unlike any other. He is the absurdity of Mister Mxyzptlk combined with the marking potential of Slimer. He is a statement of intent for the X-Statix era and a continuing reminder to not try and make sense about X-Men. I think the closest character on the list to Doop is Dr. Nemesis and I get more excited by seeing Doop float around in the background. Psylocke is probably a better written character than Doop but I don’t think Old Man Logan is even close. That makes Doop the new number 8 in the Xavier Files.
Doop was requested by /u/RussisanOkayGuy and others. Thank you for the request. If you have a request for how about you send it below? If you want to cut to the front of the two-year long line, we have a Patreon you can support Xavier Files for just $1 to get a line cutting reward.
Click here if you want to see the full ranked list, with links to every entry in the Xavier Files so far.
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Next week I guess it is Shatterstar!
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Entry Key
Entry 075 – Doop was originally published on Xavier Files
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hello.
today i only slept in for 5 minutes. i had trouble getting started with my day though... dad discouraged me from going to group therapy. he said it was because “no one else goes.”
buddy, i said on monday that there is ONE person who sometimes doesn’t show up. this person happens to be the only other member of the group right now, but before that everyone attended almost every meeting.
in the 20 minutes between finishing my lunch and when i had to leave i developed a pretty awful headache. and i baked in my brother’s car even just in the 10 minutes it took to drive over to the facility. it was awful, but i put on some music and endured.
i saw the psychiatrist for a quick check-up a few minutes in. i joked around a bit but i also told him i’d been feeling worse lately. it is so hard to get moving, i just want to do nothing.
it was really hard to focus because it felt like there was a line between my eyes and the back of my head and the line was also made of an expanding balloon. when i wasn’t actively talking i was having an internal debate over whether or not to stay awake. and then i would tune back into the conversation and realize i’d just missed the last few sentences and get a little lost.
i drove home and then i spent a whole hour dusting off the video game shelf. dad moved my sister’s tv into the game room and my sister recently moved all our belongings into the front room. i am hoping that having a clean playing area will encourage me or one of my siblings to actually pick up a game and play it? i bought dk tropical freeze some time ago and didn’t have the wii u so i had to wait for my sister to bring it home. i think... i’ll start playing that soon. before i do that though i need to do the kitchen shelves with my brother. we’re going to start that project tomorrow and maybe he’ll just want to do it all in one sitting so we can be done with it.
my headache didn’t get better though, and it got way worse every time i bent down to get the bottom shelves or put something away. and blowing in all the cartridges felt satisfactory, but also made my head hurt more. i will have to also locate my super nintendo, which is packed with all my apartment supplies, so that we can have everything in one place for the summer. i can always pack the snes up again and take it with me in august. it doesn’t have to stay packed the whole time.
i took the dogs outside and the heat wiped me out. so i went inside and made some tea, but my head still hurt. dad brought home dinner and chewing was pretty painful. i think i may have been grinding my teeth... that might cause a headache along the sides of my head.
both my mother and sister offered me painkillers (some of which were prescription, i don’t know where those came from though), but i didn’t know how anything would interact with my collection of medications, so i didn’t bother with them. resting a while and watching game grumps helped sort of clear it up. i’m still tired and sore but the worst of it seems to be done.
that only lasted eight hours!!!!!
oh, i colored the owls today. i have made some good progress. i still need to make a decision on what i want to do for their stomach and tail feathers, but i’ve got a blueprint on one of the patterns to use for everything else, and i finished the flowers.
tomorrow i gotta get over to the doctor’s office by 10... so i’ll have to get up just a little early to give myself enough time to shower. so i am writing early.
we didn’t really get to talk about the self esteem worksheet in therapy today. the therapist spent a really long time explaining the details of a form i filled out a long time ago that i didn’t have any questions about. i don’t know how my groupmate felt about it. i wanted to talk about it at least a little bit...
i feel... conflicted. on one hand, i am very upset about things that happen to me and i have trouble stopping being upset. because i know no one else is going to care about it in the slightest and someone needs to be upset about it. my sense of justice needs someone to be upset so it feels like something might change. and no one else can care because i don’t matter.
but on the other hand, my brain says i am bad and i have to give away all the good things and suck in all the bad things and then die so people can stop having a bad thing in their lives. past-me, kid-me, requires that i take care of myself as little as possible so that i can devote more energy to the people around me and also die a little bit every day until i just kind of fade away and no one cares, because no one CAN care. no one else has ever cared. not when it mattered.
it’s like an emotional self harm ouroboros and every time i start feeling good they BOTH start screaming because i am not allowed to be happy/rest until the bad person is punished, but also i am the bad person so i need to stop having nice things.
i guess what i want the therapist to do is tell me what to do. but she can’t really do that because that’s not the point of therapy. the point of therapy is showing you a bunch of things and you pick a few that look good and start doing them.
mm... other people have cared. single people doing small things. strangers. they weren’t friends. but... being interested goes a long way.
my dreams last night. they were the usual brand of confusing and kind of lonely. i am trying to figure out where i was and what was going on, but i can’t really remember anything i am able to easily explain. i was in, like, a canyon, and sometimes it was made of rock and dirt and shrubs and other times it was made of gears and tunnels and fences. i was trying to get from one end to the other and i was with a few characters that usually tag along in that area. i don’t think they ever remember what we did the last time i saw them? or maybe there’s just nothing to say about it. we got a job to do, we do it for a while, sometimes (but not always) weird shenanigans happen, and then i wake up. sometimes previous dreams they were in repeat and they don’t seem to remember it happening before is all. but you know what? it’s not hard to be patient with them and re-enact scenes. i like them a lot. in a weird all-business, not-much-talking way, i trust them.
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Questions for HSM III (Part VII)
We are literally now diving into the abyss. If I had posted a picture of the Titanic wreck instead of this one, we wouldn’t have sunk far enough.
On Troy and his Dad
1- I’m a fan of Troy’s scenes with his dad. Despite the significant challenges in their relationship, and despite the burden of pressure that Jack Bolton places on his son’s shoulders, the father-son bond is real, relatable and touching. I like Jack Bolton on the whole, because he’s that traditional kind of father sadly lacking in today’s society. One of those men who worked up from the bottom and is keen to pass these values onto his son. Troy has a strong work ethic (when referring to being the Coach’s son: “makes me practice a little harder”) is a thoroughly fair and decent guy and doesn’t believe in taking shortcuts to success. I believe this comes from his father.
Given that Jack Bolton asks about Gabriella, having come to accept that she isn’t just his “detention buddy” (that scene in HSM I makes me crack up every time), I would like to have known his reaction to her unannounced disappearance and the resultant effect on Troy. Surely Mr. Bolton saw his son moping around at school? Would he particularly well-disposed towards Gabriella or am I just wishing he’d advise his son to date someone else? Mr. Bolton asks Troy whether Gabriella will still be attending prom, to which Troy answers yes with a smile. Read and weep, people. Read and weep. Again, I wonder what the Bolton patriarch’s reaction would be when she suddenly decided she wasn’t coming. After all, in HSM I, he unreasonbly got angry with Gabriella for allegedly causing Troy to get a detention (she did no such thing). How would he have reacted? Or is he caught up in Troy/Gabriella hype, too? I’d love to know.
2- Notice the pride in Troy’s voice when he says “She’s knee-deep in geniuses out there.” I would love to have heard that phone-call, particularly to hear whether Gabriella apologized for jumping ship after lying to him that she just meant “goodnight”. Of course, Troy doesn’t mention it. But if that phonecall was anything like the one we’re going to hear soon, then I have no hopes. I really hope Gabriella doesn’t get a job in Customer Sales, because she has a terrible telephone manner. Even when dressed as a pretend maid, she managed to sound like an irritable, huffy miseryguts.
Then Troy says that Gabriella made a comment about the food at Stanford and East High. See, this is where hearing the conversation would have been helpful. Is that really the most remarkable thing that Gabriella said to him over the phone-- that the food was worse at Stanford? (If any Stanford graduate can back that up, I’d be grateful.Gabriella whines about everything, so I don’t take anything she says at face value). Oh hi, Troy: everyone here is really clever and the food sucks, and yes, I’m still coming to prom. Seriously, this sounds like the extent of their conversation, otherwise Troy would have mentioned it. Are we to assume that she did or did not ask after him, his feelings, his studies, let alone apologize for her grand departure? I’m digging and I’m theorizing, yes, but this seems to be in line with the stilted nature of their conversations. Am I missing something?
3- So, are we to believe that the reason Mr Bolton shoots hoops in the backyard is because he doesn’t know how to deal with Troy potentially attending another college/school? Because if so, that might explain Troy’s upcoming mental breakdown in the gym. When is Mr. Bolton going to learn to communicate with his son in a more constructive manner?
4- Does Mrs. Bolton have a say in this? No indication is given on what she thought about Troy’s further education. Yet her view would matter too, right?
5- “Chad will be awfully disappointed if you decide to change your mind!” Behold, the reason why people choose a college: because best friends. Seriously, Mr. Bolton? Didn’t this same man say in HSM II that Troy wasn’t going to be with the Wildcats forever? That the team was great now, but in future, he would need to seize his own opportunities? Or was that good advice only relevant because Troy was trying to secure finance for his father’s alma mater? But then again, precisely what were Mr. Bolton’s thoughts when, during HSM II, Troy DITCHED a scholarship opportunity for no good reason other than to appease his friends and girlfriend? Because judging by their interaction here, it doesn’t even come up in conversation. How did Mr. Bolton react then, when Troy let a golden opportunity slip through his fingers? Remember, Mr. Bolton made the effort to watch Troy playing with the Redhawks in order to give a good report to Mr. Evans. In order to give Troy the best shot possible. So if Mr. Bolton got over the fact that Troy flushed this all down the toilet for his ungrateful girlfriend and ungrateful friends, then why’s he guilt-tripping Troy into accepting U of A? Then again, if he WASN’T cool with Troy’s “decision” in HSM II, why aren’t they talking about that now? (Like to answer that, Script?) Thoroughly unconstructive, hypocritical behaviour from Mr. Bolton here. On the first watch, I thought Troy’s annoyance was overdone; now it’s completely understandable.
An answer, please. Someone.
6- “You raised me to make my own choices, and I need to make ‘em. Not you, or Chad, or anyone else. ME.”
Wise words coming from a guy who is now about to do the complete opposite for the rest of this film.
On Troy’s Nervous Breakdown and Ms Darbus
1- I honestly skip this section. It’s extremely boring and depressing, but totally understandable. On the first watch, I was fighting to stay awake by this point. Troy is in the abyss. (So is this movie). His dad doesn’t understand him, his friends don’t take his aspirations and indecision seriously, his girlfriend is an ungrateful freeloader, the musical is going down the toilet (which is why he told his dad not to ask earlier) and he feels like jumping out one of his beloved trees. “Scream” encompasses all of the above conflict and is a reasonable climactic point for the movie. (Actually, on second listen, this song is quite catchy, if a little try-hard in the pop department). It should have been followed by an improvement in Troy’s circumstances, and more importantly, his decision-making. Alas...
Screaming seems to be Troy’s default method of releasing his anxiety, which follows on from his yelling in the Lava Springs kitchen during HSM II. This would imply, would it not, that Troy is actually quite a reserved guy except when on stage?
2- I like the scene between Troy and Ms Darbus, who, unlike Taylor, has dropped her lack of understanding towards sports stars. It is Ms Darbus who gives Troy the most meaningful encouragement and good advice that he has ever received in this entire movie. Not his girlfriend. Not his best friend. Not his father. But his teacher. Of course, any good teacher wishes the best for their students, but it says something when Troy had to run into an abandoned school and scream blue murder in order to process his emotions, instead of running to people who should be supportive and understanding. Ms Darbus believes in him, and thus submitted an application on his behalf to Juilliard, which is an act of confidence in his abilities and in his future. This is good. The stage is set for Troy’s grand decision later on.
I really wish we had learned precisely which schools Troy might have attended and when he received his offers. But this would involve learning more about Troy’s life in isolation, and not as a subsidiary of Gabriella’s life. Why didn’t we get the necessary context leading to his “decision” RE Berkeley?
By the way, I have a solution for Ms Darbus struggle to rebalance the musical: scrub out Miss Montez’s part altogether.
On Musical Disharmony and Hoops Man
So, Gabriella is learning her way around Stanford, good for her. A totally pointless scene that neither helps conclude Troy’s anxiety beforehand, nor leads into the musical that she abandoned with such casual hypocrisy.
1- Poor Troy. He’s really trying. Kudos to Ryan for helping him out there, which I believe he did out of friendship and understanding, and not just because he is the choreographer. Another smiley face sticker for Ryan. Once again notice a complete lack of sympathy of understanding as demonstrated by any of the other Wildcats, which I suppose is unsurprising, given that they only agreed to do the show after Troy did. In other words, they expect him to do all the legwork and hold the show on his shoulders. As I mentioned before, you can see Chad muttering angrily to Taylor in the background, jabbing his arm in Troy’s direction. Folks, this is the guy who spent five minutes of your time claiming he didn’t dance. NOW he cares so much about the musical? Remember when I said that no one came to check on Troy after Gabriella left? Surely, Chad must have his own off days? Surely he must understand why Troy is so upset? Surely he knows that Troy has no chemistry with Sharpay whatsoever? This sudden annoyance grates on the nerves.
2- “Hoops Man! Over here! You look like you’re having the time of your life!” Unlike Chad, who just blames Troy, or the other Wildcats who act like he doesn’t even exist even though they know he’s upset, Kelsi always does her best to keep Troy’s spirits up. Injecting some humour into the situation was a great way to break up the tension, disappointment and lack of energy in these rehearsals. Again, we are forced to believe that Gabriella’s absence is ruining the show; as I said before, I dispute such an assumption. The only ones willing to put in any effort are Kelsi, Ryan, Sharpay and Troy. As a composer, you would think that Kelsi would be the most irritated by Troy’s consistent mistakes and lack of focus; instead she shows him nothing but sympathy and understanding, so sadly lacking from almost everyone else.
If only Kelsi had stopped here!
3- “It’s all of us, and all of us pretty much know why. If it wasn’t for Gabriella, this musical would have just been another “Sharpay Show”!”
Kelsi, please-- PLEASE-- be quiet! Don’t do this to yourself. Every time I watch this scene, I’m ready to quit the world. This is what ruins that which could have been another memorable Trelsi moment; Kelsi’s persistently illogical hero-worship of Gabriella on the basis of pure fantasy and catchy love songs rather than actual reality. Not only is this comment cringeworthy, it is completely false. It was Troy who agreed to the musical when everyone else was arguing against it. (Does she not remember jumping for joy when he finally capitulated, rather than when Gabriella stood up for her?!) So it’s Troy who saved the musical from being another “Sharpay Show”; Troy, who is standing right in front of her, doing his best to continue with said musical whilst Gabriella is chilling in Cali. (Alright, she’s not chilling, but roll with it).
Why is Kelsi convinced that the show cannot run without Gabriella? This is a girl who applied to Juilliard (kudos to her), and so obviously must know that they perform musicals all the time... Without Gabriella! Would it make her happy if she brought Gabriella along with her to Juilliard, since it’s so clear that nothing can work otherwise? Have theatre performers had it wrong this entire time? Did West Side Story or Grease need Gabriella? When Kelsi was submitting her songs for the high school musicals and kept getting rejected, there were musicals that succeeded without Gabriella, were there not? There are only two Playmakers in this movie series: Troy and Kelsi. There are only four people chosen for a prestigious Performing Arts scholarship in this movie series, two of whom are Troy and Kelsi. What more evidence does Kelsi need that the world doesn’t revolve around Gabriella? And again, why does Kelsi say NOTHING when one of the show’s leads just ups and leaves without telling her-- AGAIN? Remember in High School Musical I, when Gabriella unilaterally decided that she and Troy wouldn’t do the musical based on that webcam stunt? Out of Troy and Gabriella, who do you think would have bothered to tell Kelsi? The script never showed us this, but I think I can guess. So should we really have any hopes that Gabriella would have told Kelsi about this new development in HSM III? But meanwhile, Kelsi still wants to have another jab at Sharpay. How many times has she written music for Sharpay now? Even when Sharpay was bossing her around in the first movie, she offered to write more solos! (”Uh... I should write you more solos?”) Stop kidding yourself, Kelsi.
Ever astonishing and exasperating bias from Kelsi.
People, I love Kelsi. She’s my second favourite character after Troy. But seriously, these questions must be asked.
Still, she redeems herself for comforting Troy as always.
TO BE CONTINUED
#HSM3#Deb'sAnalysis#KelsiNielsen#HeroWorshipIsBadForYourHealthKelsi#TroyBolton#Trelsi#TrelsiMomentRuined#GabriellaMontez#GabriellaCanGetAwayWithMurder#GabriellaDidNotInventTheTheatreKelsi#RyanEvans#MoreSmileysForRyan#UngratefulWildcats
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SU
2.
*
SECTION C.
JIZZ for Jesus 1 minute 15 seconds/ short.
My being single was a topic that has worried my 85 year old father.
a treasure chest of anxiety who had anointed himself my dating guru.
Every week he comes up with a new line of advice.
The first was that I should go to church and find a nice guy.
Ah ok, but Church is centered around redemption themed activities.
What am I going to do- tell someone
"hey. I ah just saw the way you placed your lips to that chalice- and it got something going down here
He thought about it some more and came back with-
["Hey Jo! You know what?"
That's the way my dad always speaks, in a tenor most people reserve for an extreme emergency, like a school evacuation.
"These guys are no good.
Nah. Not like how they used to be.
So you fuck 'em Jo. Take what you need and get outta there. Don't be a whore but just get what you need."
Okay dad. Very different types of advice but thank you.
So I figured out a way to combine the two bits of information. It's a little program I like to call Jizz For Jesus.
Just vats of cum in my face in the name of our lord and savior.
Just trying to be a good daughter. ]
Then he goes " HEY Jo"
That tone means he doesn't want my mom to hear.
What Dad.
"Are you a lesbian?"
No Dad.
"ok well I want you to know it's ok."
thanks.
"well.... do you know what they do?"
who?
"The LESBIANS!!! how do they do it"
Dad. We're done here.
ST HORROR
Catholic interior design is amazingly bold.
Where else would you be able to get away
With that focal point?
Imagine walking into the grocery store to get some ice cream
And you saw a statue of someone over the cereal aisle
life size
Just bleeding.
Then another one by the ice cream
Smiling while a gentle breeze rolls
Through his luscious locks
And sun illuminates down upon him.
And everyone else was like oh yeah.
That’s our good buddy Ralph.
He helped to make this place.
No worries just keep hoping for a good life and
Get all your groceries into a cart.
Or just rolling up to your first soccer game
And over the goal net
there’s a photo of your neighbor,
Mr. Gershon who served in Vietnam
And passed away last year.
Just bleeding profusely.
And everyone’s just like oh yeah.
He sacrificed for us.
No worries here’s an orange slice ad some high c fruit punch.
It’s just how you avoid hell.
Did you bring in money for team photo?
And how’s your fundraising going for the new jerseys.
FIREY PITS
The whole concept of hell gets so left behind.
It becomes this thought in the back of your mind,
To Avoid the fiery pit.
Really the church needs a revamp.
Instead of a fiery pit just start telling people
They will get zero likes on their posts
If they don’t comply.
Watch pews fill up.
GOOD TO KNOW the Bible
Dad the only person who invited in Jehovahs they multiplied.
The he…
Years later they still came to visit him so we had to do what I like to call reverse bible chats.
It always starts with a lead in question
“Do you know…” and they insert a bible verse.
It’s a trap like when your friend asks you if you know someone else-
Either they talked shit about you or you are going to hear shit talked about them.
But when it’s bible rhetoric it’s so easy to just listen
And hit them with
Dueternonmy
Or
Corninthians and just put in random numbers.
Then conclude with your own opinion.
And they walk away.
OFFERING OTHER SALVATION
Just so odd
What other types of salvation?
Some like weird cheese
Do it out
BIBLICAL HERO
Take a quiz to see what type of biblical hero you are
Moses
Mary Magdalene cuz she’s a hoe
How did they have hoes in the Bible?
I’d like to see a Moses parting the seas of peers who are holding back orgasms
And older ladies shaming for wearing too short skirts and saying well you asked for it,nder their breath
And he just bellows out
“Let my whores go”
Then they walk to a land where
they create amazing porn for ladies and general
healthcare that covers all forms of birthcontrol
*
PORHN HUB THE WORLD
More than the bible, The answer is porn
if there were as many categories on porn hub
As there were ideas for world peace and conservation
We’d be all set.
LADIES NIGHT
We need more categories for porn by ladies.
Just liven it up make it more representative.
Less filthy next door neighbor taking big dicks
Reading a book and getting your nips tweaked
Getting your ass eaten while watching cute animals lick their faces
Finishing a craft while on top - look how cute his eyes are, and then you just go to outer space
Eating lasagna while anything
LADIES ARE MORE DANGEROUS
More outlets for female intelignece and for ladies to cum.
That combo creates a burtito cloud of peace with melted cheese around the female psyche.
This is essential.
Ask any dude who is pissed off a crazy eyes girl.
Who was just one two many break ups deep.
There are absoultely crazy guys
But they more start a ned narrative that didn’t happen
Or if something was wrong they just avoid and deny.
Pretty Much All Ladies will say-
Ok let me find your birth record,
Then trail onto you best friend from preschool
Take a flight to New Orleans- get a witch
Dig up a dead body and procure the two pinky fingers as payment
Rally up anyone else who hates you
Put their soul in a doll, send it to your house
Then around 10pm give you 3 hearts on insta to hide the evidence.
That’s day one.
*
STORY- ME
*
( How sexual repression makes you into a vengeful person)
FOR REAL REVENGE.
Girls who are all about the revenge you generally can find zero social media presence on them
And they like to do control based things
The girl in your office
Keep talking about going to sweet greens
Or paint night
They are the mid level managers of the world who Marshall over every event and
When you go out to dinner make sure that everyone is paying the exact amount
THE REAL REGINA GEORGRE
I have no idea why people are obsessed with teenager Regina Georges
Because the real assholes are
repressed, undersexed mothers with body image issues
Who feel as if their children have stolen their lives
BECUASE FAIR IS FAIR.
They begin to not even see it as revenge.
It’s just fairness.
Because they have been taught to be nice and they are seething.
COME A LONG WAY
We’ve come a long way sexuality from
Your aunt who has the solid Ronald mc Donald hair cut and a long short chino
With a polo shirt
To
[50k categories and several articles]
MONGOOSE.
VALIDATION STATION.
Repression in females comes from mis placed validation
The validation that seems promised from being nice and doing the right thing.
AND JEALOUSLY
AND WORRIED UR FMAILY WILL REJECT U FOR SPOILING THE GOODS
Jessica simpson?
Take most of the single males you know perhaps they are sad,
But they will general find a hobby, pussy, or both.
When the barrier to entry of pussy gets to expensive, psychotic, difficult or all three.
They will resort mc guyver like tendencies to find ingenuity.
Take most females who are single.
They will use the same ingenuity to gain validation from friends and family
Which includes carrier achievement and marriage.
When the Barriers to entry become challenging they become crazy.
THAT FRIEND.
If you have been single over twenty eight you have have 100 percent taken a turn
Into crazy town. Driven straight through then taken a right into county love town.
It looks so much more intense when it’s your friend doing it
There rare two options for yourself and that friend,
A) you’ll make it by having a life and randomly crying to ColdPlay
B) you will spend all your time trying to find someone like a person who has lost
A puppy.
MISPLACED.
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS
This is so insane.
DOWRY
This starts with our parents,
you chose in your family but I like to blame my mother.
But my dad is to blame to b/c his standards are just wanting me minimally taken care of he’d be like
do you have a car?
A job?
Ok here’s 10k
Remember she likes cheese.
Bye baby remember to turn the lights off.
MOTHER SHAME.
JENNER WORLD
Pretty soon moms will be fighting over how many likes their daughter gets.
(Play on how moms compete for girls getting career + marriage)
end on marriage
The moms who are exactly the same as Kris Jenner
And there’s a lot
Except
Kris is a narcissist who pairs her daughter up with dudes that aren’t great.
Or at the every least doesn’t encourage them to leave.
Lots of moms are like this- they loose their daughter and their daughters
“Wins” a happy marriage.
The only difference is these girls wear bikinis instead of a nice tailored slack.
But who is the influencer of the influencers?
Do the equation and you will always come up Oprah.
Just do it out. Oprah.
And she doesn’t even have instagram.
And who is her influencer? Maya angelou?
So strong black women. Mostly BBW.
PRECIOUS MOMENTS
Maybe there’s an age where repression just starts settling in
And people look at the people in their family
Who came before them
As precious moments statues.
Ummm just a quick refresh your moms
Vagina was once a beatiuous place holder for jizz.
And grandma probably took a load
And not just to the laundry
Why do you think she carries all those werthers?
Just our old friend science.
****
JESUS INVENTED BROS
FEMALE VERSION OF BROS
PRODIGY KIDS
*****
SECTION D.
KNOW YOUR READY FOR KIDS
You know your ready for kids because
Before when you didn’t get your period and you weren’t having sex
All you would do is just be like wishing your uterus fondnesses
Thinking that she finally quit,
Because you can’t blame her all you see around you is nonsense
Hopefully she is living out her dreams in tiajuanna on a donkey
Wearing a sombrero and partying with a small person,
Who she has to set boundaries with because she’d very into
Group sex and that’s not her jam
GROUP SEX
Steph and group sex
Have you ever had a friend who is either being very sexually curious
Or has a really specific thing that they want to try and they’d like
You to come with them so they just start injecting it into conversations?
*
FIND SOMEONE
You can’t seem to find anyone yet every single member of the Duggar family is married.
That’s a lot of kids and you still can’t get a date to last past month three.
*
BJs WHOLESALE
FIND U A MAN
There’s a lot of dating advice out there for ladies but the best is-
Find u a man who looks at you
And takes care of you like he does his own penis.
You’ll have
infinite protection
Generous massages
Fresh assortment of culture- movies and photos
Literature in the form of light reading
Long trips
Shelter
If you have sad emotions he’ll do anything to take care of you
And
Poetry.
POETRY
Found a website called Hogtied, part of a collection of websites called kink. All the women were tied up. Hot. They also all had clips on their nipples. Sure. The dudes fucking them had locks on their balls.
I'm young, I just assumed that's how adults fucked. So I found some bigass locks for a locker, locked my balls, and started rubbing. It was uncomfortable, but if that's how adults fuck, then I guess I'd better get used to it.
I'll never forget when I finally came. I felt warm inside, like my soul was being cradled by light, all emanating from my dick.
I'm just glad my roommates didn't happen to come downstairs and see me putting mustard on my dick illuminated by the gentle glow of the open fridge”
PEZ "Sat at the edge of my bed and catapulted starburst off my rock hard dick into the bobbing maw of a lovely lady I had harbored a crush for for many years. We are still in romance."
"I'm a grower not a shower so I like to take my scrotum and encase my penis with it. Then when I get an erection, it's like an emerging butterfly."
DIFFERNCE BETWEEN MALES AND FEMALES.
WHY WE KILL THEM
Let him live.
Riffs on how ladies don’t listen
Like a dog in a cone
We are always trying to do most likely way too much
WHY THEY KILL US
He is constantly on a voyage to my boobie.
If I look inside his head it often times it will be like this:
Entry log number 654. I’m approaching the boob.
How men don’t listen
How they are so sensitive and we are so so mean
My husband is one of the most sensitive people I know
He bruises like a soft Carolina peach
OK he’s only that way with me b/c he loves me and same with me to him.
So why would I put it in that context?
How about
My husband is so sensitive he has a thick cock?
PHD. /// BOB
MEN ARE A LOT MORE SENSITIVE
Men ae more sensitive but if their values don’t align with yours
FORGET IT.
But we are the same we just keep seeking the validation from them that we don’t give ourselves.
MARRIAGE VS DATING
You stick around for varying reasons
You can’t talk shit behind your husbands back
Not only is it rude
It’s ineffective
Gotta do it right to their face but they are so sensitive
So like to give him the same petty sick burns I give to a female
He doesn’t quite get it which is amazing
When he tries to do it back he does it with sports or movies
And I’m like yeah but I still pulled in money
You my friend are giving questionable hand jobs in the back seat of a car
DAVIDS BIRDAL
BEST PART OF BEING SINGLE
Jelly bean jar/ hyptoenuse
You’ll never figure it out because couples lie
S- CAVEAT EMPTOR//Economy Model Husband
Black Lab
Story- TUNA MELT//BRIDGET JONES
Just don’t care
*****
SECTION F
OVERSHARE****
METH NANNY pt2. 20 seconds
My go to overshare detail
Is that I’m a nanny and graduated from college
Some people quickly catipult into concerned pity.
They'll go-
"ohhhhhh nooooo. what happened? {really dramtic sad face}
did you take a slipsy- slidey into the meth-em-phetamines?
it that what you did?
well you have all your teeth, so, it looks like you're on the upside of things"
TRYING 20
I want life advice from a person whose stumbling onto their own personal truth-
The guy in the office who does barely any work,
yet has taken it upon himself to give all the ladies in the office massages-
He's found own glory in caressing Edna's sciatica.
BUSINESS VENTURES.
Sending off used panties, Netflix dvds
ROCK BOTTOM
Some jobs feel like your own personal rock bottom.
In reality you're in an office watching an excel presentation
But in your soul you’re standing in the middle of Target holding a bag of sun chips and trying to move slowly because you just had an accident in your pants.
ASS THAT WONT QUIT 15
Some people have told me that I have an ass that won't quit,
which is strange.
I've never stayed in a job past a year.
So Historically I'm a quitter and I'm pretty sure my ass follows suit.
Stories- work
*******
****
SECTION F.
CANT HANG
FRIENDS (material. )
AFFIRMATIONS
The biggest cautionary tape is When a friends occasional affirmational FB posts turn into daily ones.
I called up one of my best friends after seeing her posts and asked if her marriage- which had been rocky for several years had finally ended.
How did you know? She said.
If I had strung a week’s worth of her posts together there'd be fantastic copy for a new anti- depressant commercial.
FRIEND BREAK UPS
TRUE FEMINISM
QUESTIONABLE INTENSITY
Friends who are Fathers can be slightly overprotective of their daughters,
And mothers can have a questionable level of intensity with their sons.
My friend pointed at her son as he was playing with Legos and said, "oh my God.
Isn't he soooo hot?"
I had to remind her, " ah at one point he relied on you for sustinance-
and that’s Nasty Caroline.
And she said, " I know. I know-
{caramel voice} But oooooh gurl if he didn't, Hey baby . I see you. Keep building that tower."
We then had a conversation on what voice intonations are available to nice white ladies from the suburbs-
That’s not one of them.
Not for you girlfriend.
Ditto to any snapping motions.
Twerking on a case by case basis.
SECTION G
MOCHA
OUTRAGE. 25 seconds
When a white Person stands up for issues facing people of color with such force-
It feels incredible.
Wow Luke. You really care. Super woke. Good job.
Then you see that same person display the equivalent level of outrage-
for an empty ketchup bottle.
And you realize just they're working out a wide array of anger management issues.
Not really. on. my team.
CRAFTS
Thank you. To the white people who actually do something.
Any show of support is great but I do have some questions.
To the people who went into their craft bins and got pins, to affix to their shirts and show solidarity.
ah- but you had a whole craft bin.
I’m not saying anything fancy but a little flare would have been appreciated.
A hat with a pom pom?
Story- affirmative action
****
SECTION H.
DIC PIC. 20 seconds
I've been working with kids for about 15 years, that means parents periodically send me unsolicited snapshots of their little cuties.
Which- is the same as a dick pic.
That little head pops up on the screen, {hand movement} and all life choices need to be reevaluated
DIC AS CURRENCY. 20 seconds
I heard a person say “that’s going to cost you a dick pic”
Hmm. Have things gotten so real with bitcoin we’re now using Dick pics as currency.
Starbucks girl:Venti iced coffee. Ok that will be two chodes and a a gagger
Me: ok, here you go.
Starcucks girl: Oh okokok. Sorry um that’s only one chode.
Me: Oh I’m sorry. I was trying to be generous.
Never gotten a dic pic :(
I have never gotten a dick pic.
Perhaps it’s because my personality is it’s own restraining order.
I used to be sad about that in my twenties.
The same way I was sad about having small breasts,
I mean let’s be mature and call them tiddies-
In my twenties.
But then you wake up at thirty two, the sun shining in your apartment and you go out for a ice cream sandwich without a bra and watch a couple looking miserable
And it all makes sense
DATING
Dating-stories
Cemetery guy//soap
Divorced guy with ring
BALTIMORE BUTTS. 50 seconds
Ladies have a tendency to set the expectations of themselves incredibly high.
Take body maintenance.
My friend gets electrolysis everywhere,
including. her butthole.
Which is not only fiscally rediculous-
It's a welcome statement.
NOPE. mmmmhmm not here.
I need my butthole to be COMPLETELY terrifying.
You're driving down a really pleasant residential street and you see that one house that gives you the chills and you have roll up the windows.
That's the aesthetic I desire.
A creaky step. Some chipped paint. Screams from the inside. Ace.
It's tricky though because of the close proximiity to my punash, which needs to be incredibly welcoming.
It's doable.
Have you ever been to Baltimore or Philly?
***tag
So, possible. Just give specific coordinates.
BB tag. Dinner party.
***
2. CAHTZ (differences between men and women)
3. Girls are always covering for cat’s poor behavior past or present
4.
5. “Yeah well what did you do to the cat?”
6.
7. Boys are always selling
8. At least one sports team’s merits even if they don’t like sports.
SUPERIOR SEX.
There is no superior sex
If men were the superior sex
They would tell ladies that if you swallowedjizz
You’d loose 10lbs
If women were the superior sex
They’d bottle up all the hope in a mans eyes
When you talk about blow jobs
And just place it in a jar.
Just unleash it like fairy dust
Or whatever they use to make Disney world so magical.
SECTION I
2. ARTISTIC INTEGRITY.
3. Brother is a nerd
4.
5. NERDS
6.
7. Valuing yourself for your intellect is no different than valuing yourself for your looks
8.
9.
10. Put you down for not knowing things
11. Ask about things they know you don’t know
12. Have side conversations with other people who know things and laugh at a person not knowing
13. Act like your like you’re stupid b/c they had certain training without talking to you
14.
15.
16. They don’t value.
17. Having athletic ability
18. Knowing about pop culture
19. Being able to socialize
20. Being able to build things in a blue collar way
21. Having a work ethic that doesn’t require “difficult” mental tasks
22. Being kind to people who don’t have influence
23.
24.
25. Things they do.
26. Being lauded for smart achievements
27. Knowing things in their field
28. Knowing niche culture things
29. Not caring if they are cool (but caring)
30.
31.
32. Things they get pissed off on.
33. If you don’t validate their knowledge
34. Making fun in anyway way
35.
36.
37. The kardashians of education.
38. Look at all this intelligence just look at it.
39.
40.
41. Reformed
42. Married a wife who dragged him away from his home base of friends
43.
44. Double down
45. Always ready to quiz you on arbitrary topics
46. Like doughnuts
47.
48. Dabbling
49. Until you hit a point of their area of expertise
50.
51. Professor
52. Debates and bows out when they loose
(The only thing we have in common is our insane parents. He doesn’t like religion I love it)
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