#i only truly care about this thruple

[femboyhunting]

Mickie gives me cuteness aggression. Every time i see him i get the sudden urge to rip this throat out with my teeth ❤️ Can you tell me more about himb

He will absolutely kick your ass though so you best behave. He started working out just to be able to kick ass better.

So I'm pretty bad at coming up with stuff off the top of my head so please do feel free to ask if you have anything specific you want to know about him.

He's a really good dancer.

He started a band that he called For Profit Orphan Farm, because that's what he calls the orphanage. He also sometimes calls Bailey a for profit orphan farmer. On the topic of Bailey, He also has a drawing he made of Bailey he made pinned to a dart board. Throws darts at it.

He and Bailey have kind of a weird complicated relationship that's only gotten more weird and complicated over the years. It started off as entirely adversarial at first, Mikie hated Bailey's guts. Then eventually he figured that considering how much power and influence Bailey has, it would be in his best interest to get on his good side. So he decided he'd work to gain Bailey's trust then when he had it he'd betray him and take over. He didn't really change his additude but he did work to make it obvious he was an invaluable asset. Bailey ended up having to rescue him a few times and each time he'd give him a chunk of extra money in his weekly orphan fee. After all money is the only thing Bailey gives a shit about. They're not "friendly", Mikie even acts openly antagonistic and insulting towards him sometimes but it's almost joking? They almost sort of have something of a banter going? He plays pranks on him sometimes. Mikie would never admit it to anyone or even himself, but he sort of wants to impress Bailey, prove he's more than just another orphan. It's impossible to know what he truly feels for Bailey, even less so what Bailey feels for Mikie.

Mikie hasn't actually been in the orphanage since he was a child, instead he came to the orphanage in his mid teens after his parents lost custody. At that time he was a total loner with a bad additude but Robin really brought him out of his shell. Robin was his first friend at the orphanage, perseverating to try to be his friend even on those first days when Mikie kept telling him he was annoying and to scram. Mikie doesn't talk about his parents, he actually doesn't remember them or his childhood before the orphanage much aside from vague feelings and snippets. And he doesn't really care to, he's perfectly content to act like his time before the orphanage doesn't exist at all.

He's a delinquent that likes to cause trouble in school. Essentially harmless stuff. Well other than pepper spraying people. But to be fair those people were Whitney and his pack of friends. Mikie maintains that if you don't start none there won't be none, and it's not his fault Whitney keeps running back over and over again to get his ass kicked. He also intervenes when he sees students getting bullied and is generally kind of scrappy and rarely runs from a fight. So he's in fights a lot. Which means he's in detention a lot. You'd think his obvious status as a delinquent would mean he's probably getting shit grades but he's actually doing surprisingly well, like he actually gets good grades. He's the worst at math, unsurprisingly. River likes him since he volunteers at the soup kitchen occasionally. River thought he was another rude asshole kid at first but Mikies always been earnest and worked hard and proved himself to be ultimately a kind person even if he's a bit rough around the edges. So River bumps up his grade even though he really shouldn't.

He doesn't really know how to draw, he's not a good artist.

He's kinda in a thruple with Kylar and Sydney. (Well technically Mikie is seeing like a bunch of different men but Ky and Sydney are the only ones he thinks of as his actual boyfriends he actually loves.) Which was a whole goddamn mess to set up and frankly is still more or less a goddamn mess. They're kind of competitive and snippy to eachother. Ky is more openly antagonistic and Syd is just sarcastic and teasing. And while Mikie does think it's kind of very super hot when boys fight over him (he feels really guilty for this) he does genuinely care deeply for both of them and wants them to get along. He also tries to get Ky and Robin to hang out. Mikie worries about Ky, thinks he could really use a friend. Though it's probably kinda dumb to keep trying to get Kylar to get along with people Mikies been inside of but oh well Mikies never had very good judgement when it comes to relationships.

[storge]

Soo-hyun.

#at a distance spring is green #kdramaedit #kdramadaily #kdrama #park ji hoon #kang min ah #bae in hyuk #ep 6 #soohyun said its a TRHUPLE lololol #i was waiting for this little scene and it delivered for me #they are so cute #mymymy #as much as i like the little romances in this #i only truly care about this thruple #as long as these 3 stay good by the end i will be happy

[tibbinswrites]

Day 3 - Rainbows

They were everywhere. Plastered in shop windows, strung up across the street, at every booth and stall. It seemed like everyone they passed was rainbow-coloured in some kind of way. Clothing, bags, hair, even beards. Flags waved proudly above and around them. People were smiling, laughing, kissing, holding hands. Like Dean. He clenched on so tightly to Cas’ hand that he almost felt the bones grind beneath skin. He expected Cas to say something, but he didn’t, so Dean held on.

It was his first pride. At forty-one years old he was at an event that was full of young people who’d already figured themselves out. Sam (with glitter on his face) looked down at him with a soft expression.

“We can go, if it’s too much.” he said quietly. Whatever was showing on Dean’s face was apparently so pathetic that Sam didn’t have the heart to mock him.

It was too much, and Dean wanted to go. He wanted the quiet of the bunker, of the Dean-cave, where he understood how everything worked. There, neither Sam, Cas or Jack cared that he was broken. They loved him regardless, and Cas let Dean love him too, in a way that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to.

Jack, immediately distracted by the colours and sounds, rushed off towards the nearest stall, chatting animatedly with the… guy, girl? Person, person behind it, who had a multicoloured mohawk and a yellow, white, purple and black striped shirt. They looked briefly taken-aback at Jack’s overly-forward approach (and probably thousand questions), but responded just as eagerly. Jack was beaming. Eileen (with her own glittered face) followed him after a moment and Sam turned to look with a soft smile before turning back to Dean, his ‘whatever Dean needs’ face replacing it.

“I’m fine.” Dean lied, hoping that his shirt was thick enough to hide the sweat he could feel building down his back and under his arms. “Besides, Jody’s brood will be here soon, it’ll be good to see them.”

Sam paused for a moment but nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“That’s what Cas is for.” Dean muttered.

Sam’s smile was fleeting but warm. Eileen called his name and Sam turned to see his fiancee wink at him, holding a free string of condoms. Sam flushed red and went to join her, pressing a kiss to her glittery cheek and signing something back which made her laugh.

Jack was darting from stall to stall, apparently interrogating everyone, but in such a disarming, truly curious way that nobody seemed to be taking any offence.

Cas remained by Dean, letting him crush his hand, standing stock-still barely inside the cordoned off entrance.

His mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t belong here. Everyone else looked so comfortable. There were couples everywhere, of all kinds, thruples too. There was even a string of six that all kept trading kisses and fond looks to each other. Even those on their own looked relaxed. Either waiting for friends or making new ones.

There were drag queens in the most flamboyant, ridiculous and amazing costumes. Huge feather boas, sequined everything and more glitter that Dean had ever owned (which was, admittedly, not much) on every exposed inch of skin.

“How about we go get a burger?” Cas said after a while, pointing at a food truck that looked a little quieter than most of the other, closer, places.

Realising that he’d spent a good long while lost in his own panic, not moving, he figured he should do something other than loiter by the entrance. This was Cas’ day too and he probably wanted to go enjoy himself with everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, so, his feet feeling like lead, they made their way over to the truck and got a burger and bottle of water each. There were a couple of park benches set up nearby, so they sat there, next to each other, and ate. Letting go of Cas’ hand was more difficult than he’d expected. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea of holding Cas’ hand in public, weeks more to get comfortable with the practice. Cas winced as the pressure was finally released. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Cas shook his hand out before digging into his burger. Between mouthfuls, he went on, “We all convinced you to come here because we thought it would be good for you to break down some of the stigmas you’ve held for years about why you can’t be like one of these people,” he gestured around them, “but I don’t think any of us ever thought to ask if you were ready. This is clearly difficult for you. I’m sorry we pressured you into it. If you want to just sit here and wait for Claire and everyone to come before heading back to the bunker for dinner, that’s perfectly okay. None of us are going to judge you. This is a big experience and we’ll take it at your pace.”

“I love you.” Dean said immediately. That was his gut reaction to a lot of things Cas said, and if Dean had learned anything over the past year, it was that Cas always appreciated hearing it. Even now Cas’ eyes crinkled warm, and the edge of his mouth curled up.

“I love you too.”

They finished their burgers in silence and Dean, bolstered a little by Cas’ reassurance, began to really look around at what few booths he could see from where they sat. One of them was for struggles with high school, another was selling flags, another was about the history of Pride. He was curious about that one, he admitted. He didn’t know much about this community he was supposedly a part of. The kind of community that was so vastly different from the one he’d been raised in. A community that John had scoffed at, disrespected, with only Dean to hear him most of the time. But shifting his gaze from the stalls to the people, he had to admit that it was less overwhelmingly rainbow than he’d first thought. There were people in biker jackets and boots, people his age looking similarly nervous, without an angel of humanity to hold their hand. A teenager who looked close to tears carefully glanced around before darting into the high school booth. There were people on their own, some with an air of defiance, others completely comfortable, still others with a cloud of sadness over their heads; here, but with no family who could, or would, join them.

It was an odd thing to take comfort in, the pain of others in this place of joy and self-love, but this more than anything reminded him that they were all just people. People with their own struggles and burdens. People came to Pride anyway, either in defiance of everything that tried to tell them to disappear, or to find comfort in those with similar stories. He wondered how many people out there had fathers who forced them away from their family to try and ‘fix’ them; he wondered how many were in their forties and only just now ready to admit that maybe they weren’t the person their father had wanted them to be, that that person actually went against the values they’d been taught, and the ones they’d figured out for themselves. He was so used to feeling alone in this aspect of his life that it hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be others. He saw a man who must have been in his eighties holding his partner’s hand and brandishing a sign with fervour. Never too old to come out, and he couldn’t help but smile. He nudged Cas and pointed. “Guess that applies to you too, huh? And I think I’m slow. It took you millennia.”

Cas smiled at the men and then shook his head. “It took me millennia to find you,” he said pointedly. “Gender and sexuality was not something I ever thought about before. They don’t mean much to me. And it’s fascinating to see a celebration that both says ‘these things don’t define us’ and ‘these things are important’. It’s all about being comfortable with yourself and fighting for the world to learn to be comfortable with you too.”

“Kind of the meaning of pride, I suppose.”

“Whoever said that was a sin was sorely mistaken.”

“I mean, Pride of the seven deadly was a huge asshole.”

“Hubris is not the same as pride. I’ve always thought that sin should be renamed.”

“Take it up with Chuck,” Dean said with a grin which Cas returned.

“Thankfully, he has no more say in it than I do.”

“Let’s go look in that history booth.” Dean said suddenly, already standing and holding his hand out for Cas to take. Research was always the best first step after all. And if it was right next to the stall selling pink, purple and blue pins, then that was just pure coincidence.

#suptober21 #day 3 #rainbows #pride #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

[danniburgh]

The way you make me feel (Javier x f!reader x Steve)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Summary: It was on how you three had softened to each other. There was nothing wrong with it.

It was in the way you made each other feel. The only man Javier and Steve were willing to share you with was each other.

Word count: +2.7k

Chapter warnings: mentions of The War on Drugs of course, a hint of jealousy, lots of teasing and kisses, a sprinkle of angst here and there

A/N: so... yeah i made this lmao, this is fluff and i love it and MUSTACHE BOYFRIENDS NATION RISE, also, thank you so much to @bella-ciao​ for the help with some ideas and @queenofthefaceless​ for helping WITH THE TITLE ilysm guys

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

gif: @pajamasecrets

“Whose turn for dinner?” Steve asked, standing up from behind his desk.

“Yours” you and Javi replied at the same time and you looked at each other. Steve huffed as you smiled at Javier and then at him.

“I want chicken,” you mumbled.

“You?” Steve turned at your partner and Javier only nodded, “fine, see you at home,” Steve put on his jacket and walked around his desk towards yours, you looked up at him and smirked when he turned to the office door window just to make sure no one was looking inside, leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on the lips, “drag him out of here on time,” he mumbled on your mouth and you rolled your eyes, nodding. 

Steve then walked towards Javier and did the same, a soft kiss and some words, then he walked out.

“He told you to not be late?” you asked Javier, who was lighting up another cigarette.

“You know him,” he mumbled, eyeing the closed door of the office Steve had just crossed through and lingering his gaze there for a second as you studied his face. It was as if he was remembering how you all got into the mess that was your relationship. He then turned to see you, winked and drowned himself back into the pile of paperwork in front of him.

You tried to do the same but failed, at the assumption of Javier thinking about the start of your relationship you couldn’t help but to think about it.

Colombia was a beautiful but hard place.

The War on Drugs wasn’t easy, and as a DEA agent you knew you had it easy. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard.

And certain situations, those that had brought the three of you together, made it even harder; for you it was both your courage and your gender, being a woman in the agency wasn’t easy at all, almost everyone doubted you and you had to get used to prove yourself worthy of attention before even proving that you were good at what you did, and when you met your two partners, they made it a lot easier, they already believed you could just by watching you pace around the embassy like you owned the place. So that was something that made you soften to them; for Javier it was between his reputation and the fact that he had been in the country years before you or Steve, he was known for making dubious things to get intel and you knew how much it weighed on him, he was a man who cared, who had a deep connection with not only the country and the culture but the war in itself, and he was a man willing to do what it took to keep on fighting, but you and Steve had shown him tenderness and had shown him you cared. So that was something that made him soften to you; for Steve it was both the fact that the country wasn’t what he expected, if he ever expected anything, and his divorce, he had showed up years before with wide eyes and so many ideas and a beautiful wife that just got tired and grew scared of everything that went on around her, so she took their daughter and left, and if Steve was a mess before hand he turned into an even deeper mess, but you and Javier pulled him out of the misery of what he thought his life had turned into and cared for him. So that was something that made Steve soften to you.

And the thing you three had, then? there wasn’t even a name for it.

You liked to call it a thruple, but Javier growled every time you mentioned it, called you both children even though he wasn’t that much older than you or Steve, and that made you and Steve laugh.

The only thing you three knew is the deep care, the deep understanding, the deep knowledge and the deep love you had about and for each other.

A soft tap on your desk brought you out of your reminiscence and you saw two light tanned fingers on the surface, the owner of them demanding your attention.

“Let’s go home,” Javier said, and waited for you to put files away while sitting on the edge of your desk and admiring the way you moved through the office.

For Javier, falling in love with you was something he didn’t even have to put effort on. You were beautiful, gorgeous in his eyes, smart as hell, strong and delicate at the same time. You were young and self assured and a badass and Javier couldn’t stop himself from falling in love with you even if he tried.

As you were making sure you had everything in your bag and went on to check Steve hadn’t forgotten anything, his mind traveled to the utter and complete mess he was when he realized he also loved Steve.

Javier always knew he wasn’t indifferent to men, and he knew he was attracted to Steve ever since they met. But Steve was married and that was the end of it. It wasn’t until Connie left and his friend sank into himself that he realized he cared deeply for him, as you did.

And once, while you made dinner at Steve’s place while the blond man tried to take a shower he blurted everything to you. Because the few moments Javier allowed himself to be truly vulnerable was only when he was in your arms, that was something he kept only for you. And it wasn’t out of distrust for Steve, he knew he could confide in him and he did. But you and your precious mind always knew how to soothe the restlessness of his brain even for an hour or two.

“Sounds to me like you’re in love,” you had told him, and Javier had huffed while his eyes went to the picture of Steve holding Olivia that was pinned on the fridge “you know there’s nothing wrong about it, right?” you had tried to reassure him and he had only nodded.

“It’s not that,” Javier had mumbled and he had let his deep brown gaze fall upon you.

“You love me too?” you had questioned and Javier only smiled at you and your incredible ability to read him like a book.

“I think I love you too,” you had confessed while fixing three plates with equal amounts of food.

“And Steve?” Javier had teased, reaching for three forks.

“And Steve,”

“Shall we?” you called him and he shook his head to make the memory fade. You walked next to each other out of the CNP headquarters towards the car, hopped in in silence and drove the fifteen minute way to the house you three shared while stationed in Medellín.

None of you said anything because the drive home, even if it was by yourselves or the three of you together, was a moment you used to shed away the DEA agent persona, it was something you all had agreed on taking as a way to let the work at work, at least as far as the circumstances allowed it and be just yourselves.

When Javier used his keys to open the door and let you in you saw Steve in the kitchen holding the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, struggling with a tray that Javier took from his hand. 

“Yes, I sent those as well,” you looked at Javier with a questioning gaze and he shook his head while taking off his jacket “I understand,” Steve looked at you and you saw his deep blue eyes conflicted, you tried to give him a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure it had reached the place you wanted it to “can you put her on the phone?” he said, Javier was emptying his pockets on the kitchen counter and then walked to take your bag from your hand and put it next to his and Steve's badges “hi baby,” Steve’s face lit up and Javi and you instantly knew he was speaking to Olivia.

As you had made sure Steve was okay you fell into your now old routine. You served dinner while Javier cleared out the table and Steve reluctantly hung up the phone and reached for three beers in the fridge.

“How is she?” you asked once the three of you were seated and dining.

“She’s good, stopped teething,” Steve muttered and you noticed Javier narrowing his eyes, as if he was trying to grasp the concept.

“And… Connie?” your tone was tentative and you searched for his ocean eyes, as you and Javier liked to call them.

“She’s good, sends her regards,” Steve drank from his beer and Javier snorted.

“Javi,” you half chastised half whined.

“Sends her regards?” Javier smirked as he lit a cigarette and gave it to Steve.

“Her words, man,” Steve took it and puffed from it.

“I mean, it’s weird, cut her some slack,” you said, taking the cigarette from Steve’s fingers.

“So you’re defending one of your boyfriend’s ex-wife, now?” Javier teased and Steve chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying, it’s an odd thing,” you shrugged and puffed from the cigarette.

“I mean yeah, your ex-husband suddenly starts fucking both his partners, I bet is odd,” Javier muttered, Steve and you sighed at Javier’s words and before either of you could say anything to him the house phone rang.

“Not it,” you and Steve called at the same time and Javier rolled his eyes, standing up to answer it.

“Yeah,” he answered, Steve turned to look at you and leaned to give you a kiss that tasted like the store-bought roasted chicken, lager and smoke, “no she’s here, one sec,” Javier walked back to the table and looked at you “it’s for you,” you frowned and stood up “it’s Morales,” he muttered, serious faced, and you saw him and Steve both tightening their jaws, making you roll your eyes.

You walked towards the phone feeling two pairs of eyes on your body and you smiled to yourself when you picked up the receiver and answered.

Javier and Steve looked at you and then at each other.

“I don’t trust him,” Steve muttered to Javi, who only shook his head “he clearly wants something with her,��� Javier huffed.

“He wants everything with her,” Javier said between gritted teeth and both of them grunted when you let out a soft giggle and said gracias, Luis to the phone. “I wanna hurt that man,” 

“I’ll hold him,” Steve muttered, you caught the last part while you hung up the phone and smiled at them.

“No one is gonna hurt anybody,” you lifted a finger to emphasize. 

“He clearly wants you,” Javier frowned and Steve agreed with him.

“Well I already have to take care of two men, do you think I want another one?” you laughed out and sat back down, grabbing your bottle of beer “I like him, but as a friend.” you assured them. Steve visibly relaxed but Javier didn’t.

“That’s what you told me and look at us,” he said, Steve narrowed his eyes at you and you rubbed your forehead.

You loved them, you really did, and the fact that they loved each other as much as they loved you made your heart swell with happiness, but they could be pricks and jealous assholes. The only person they were willing to share you with was each other. No one else.

“Can you stop?” you pleaded, looking at both “I don’t want to be with anyone else but you two,” you reassured them, Steve smiled at you and took your hand in his, Javier took a little more convincing “I love you,” you smiled, looking at him and tightening the grip on Steve’s hand.

“Jav,” Steve called out to him “tell her you love her,” he demanded, making you laugh. At the sound of you laughing Javier’s feigned mean face broke into a smirk.

“I love you too,”

Steve let go of your hand and after that you fell into work chatter while you finished eating, because Morales had called you with new intel about the cartel and it was you. Of course you were gonna talk about work over dinner.

A couple of hours later you were resting on Javier’s naked chest, sitting between his legs while chilling on the bed and sharing a cigarette, your free hand roaming up and down his tight while the both of you were looking at Steve getting out of the shower.

“Are you seriously getting dressed right now?” you teased him when you saw him reach for some briefs inside the closet, feeling Javier’s chest move with his chuckle.

“You know we're gonna undress you anyway, right?” Javier teased as well behind you, making Steve huff and drop the underwear on the floor.

“Fine,” he grunted and crawled on the bed to lay his wet head on your lap.

Your hand found its place playing with Steve’s blond hair and while you did that and shared a cigarette with Javi, Steve let himself remember how he realized he had fallen in love with both.

His divorce wasn’t messy, Connie had talked to him about it and it was an agreement, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. As his life as he had known it for years was about to change permanently. The only thing that gave him a small sense of stability was you and Javi. Always there, always present, always willing to help.

You, with words, always reassuring him and caring about him and asking how he was doing and checking up on him; Javi, without them, bringing him food and making sure he ate it, knocking on his door and dragging him out of the apartment to take him to dinner with him and you, calling him at exactly six fifteen each morning to wake him up and make sure he got to work on time.

He didn’t know he could feel something like that for a man, he was scared at first, and he told you that. Because while Javier confided in you his vulnerabilities, Steve confided you his deepest fears.

“I just… I don’t know why I feel like this,” he had told you, halfway drunk, gripping your hand. And you had smiled at him.

“It’s the first time you feel like that for another man?” you had asked and he nodded like a child caught with his hands and clothes all muddy “but you know there’s nothing wrong with it, right?” the same question you were to ask Javier about a couple weeks later.

“It isn’t,” Steve had mumbled to himself, and to you it sounded like a question.

“It isn’t” you had told him in reassurance, and when he looked at you with those big blue puppy eyes you knew it. And Steve had thrown himself at you and kissed you for what it felt like hours.

And then, when he was about moving on, cleaning his house of the rest of Connie’s things to send them to her, Javier helping, he had cornered him and with pleading eyes asked him to kiss him. And Javier did it without hesitation.

Steve would never forget the way Javier’s lips felt in his that first time, and how a single kiss from the only man he had ever loved in his life made his body feel tons lighter.

The sound of you moaning woke him up from his reminiscence and he turned around to see Javier’s hand cupping your breasts and his lips devouring your neck. Your eyes opened and you bit your lip, raising a hand for him to take.

He took it and you pulled him to you to grab his lips on a kiss while Javier’s hands roamed around your body.

You broke the kiss and leaned up to lick and nip on the skin of his neck, as Javier’s hands kept exploring your skin and Steve grabbed Javi by the nape, trapping his lips on a kiss.

It was going to be a long night.

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless @northernpunk​ @pascalesque​ @sleep-tight1​ @cheekygeek05​ @bii-aan-ckaa​ @letaliabane​  @starlightmornings​ @mouthymandalorianalso​

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

#javier peña #steve murphy #javier peña fanfiction #steve murphy fanfiction #javier peña x reader x steve murphy #javier peña x reader #steve murphy x reader #divorced steve murphy #thruple fic #a thruple!!!! #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos netflix #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters #Boyd Holbrook #boyd holbrook fanfiction #boyd holbrook characters #stavier #mustache boyfriends

[snowthepimp]

music

"Sorry I'm late, y'all. I didn't hear my alarm go off," Vanessa, Tiffany's secretary, said out of breath as she rushed through the entrance of Love in The Air— Tiffany's wedding boutique. She put her belongings on her desk, careful to not knock anything over. "I brought donuts, though." She wiggled her eyebrows, holding up the bag that contained two boxes of glazed doughy goodness.

"It's all good, girl," Tiffany smiled at her, letting her co-worker and friend know that she wasn't upset about her being late. She was late, as well. She had Nate to blame for that. "We're just decorating anyway."

Today was Sunday, the only day the shop was closed, but the women decided to come in on their day off to help Tiffany decorate the boutique for Christmas. Tiffany was a very festive person; she loved decorating for any special occasion, whether it was for Halloween, fall, spring, or Valentine's Day. Christmas was her favorite holiday, so she always went above and beyond for it. Tiffany walked to the radio, turning it to the local radio station that was playing Christmas music for the month. Mrs. Chrissy, the wedding boutique's fashion designer, looked at her crazy for changing the 80's R&B station she had it on.

"Mhm," Mrs. Chrissy took a sip from her coffee mug. "What you been doin' all night that you can't hear your alarm?" She lifted an eyebrow at Vanessa.

"If you must know, Mama Chrissy," Vanessa said with a roll of the neck. "I had a lil' company over."

"Which one?" Sunshine, the shop's florist, chortled. The youngest of the group smirked at her best friend as she placed an angel ornament on the tree they bought for Love in The Air.

"Bitch, don't play me," Nessa frowned at Sunshine as she mockingly blew her a kiss. "Jason came over, though," she blushed. She really liked the man for who he truly was despite his profession. She could say that for all the men she was seeing, though.

"Lawyer bae?" Tiffany asked as she stood on the ladder hanging the colorful string lights she had just bought.

"Nah, girl, that's football player bae," Sunshine winked, chewing on the piece of donut she had just put in her mouth. The women spent a lot of time together outside of work, so they knew all of each other's personal business. They knew who each other were dating, their past lovers, and what their sexual experiences were like.

Mrs. Chrissy shook her head, watching the girls go back and forth about how many men were part of Vanessa's personal life. "Chile." She couldn't say that she didn't enjoy it, though. The woman loved a good gossip session no matter how out of touch they claimed she was.

"I— now why y'all tryna play me?" Vanessa gasped, putting a hand on her chest in a playful manner, faking the shocked expression she held on her face. "It's not that many!"

"Girl, please," Sunshine scoffed. "There's a few," she waved her off. "Hmm. Let's see," she thought, tapping her chin with her finger nail. "There's lawyer bae, football player bae—"

"KFC bae," Mrs. Chrissy chimed in, mentioning the man Vanessa was seeing that managed the fried chicken fast food restaurant down the street.

"Jersey bae, Miami bae—" Tiffany continued as she counted the number of men on her fingers. The group of women were teasing her in spite of the truth behind their words.  

"Okay, okay, I get it," Vanessa interrupted them with a pout, waving them off. "Damn. So, I'm having some fun. So what? I'm too young to be tied down like you hags," she huffed. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"First of all, I am not tied down," Sunshine stated matter-of-factly. "Y'all know my situation."

"Yes, Miss Thruple, we know," Mrs. Chrissy peered over her reading glasses to give Sunshine a bored look. The young woman rolled her eyes in response. Tiffany chuckled at the exchange.

It wasn't that Sunshine constantly talked about being in a three-way relationship with the father of her child and one of her closest female friends. She was more conflicted on who she wanted to be with more. Every now and then, she would complain about not knowing what to do without hurting anyone's feelings. When she wasn't confused, she would get lost in the euphoria they both gave her, whether it was individually or together. Mrs. Chrissy supported whatever she was into. She just wanted be spared with the whining. Her words to the young woman were to suck it up and deal with it like a grown woman would.

"And I'm not tied down either," Tiff spoke up. "I don't look at it that way," she added. She climbed down from the small ladder to sit down in one of the barrel chairs. "I would say we're working towards something bigger."

"Okay, so, when y'all getting married, hm?" Vanessa questioned her friend. She put her hands on her hips waiting for an answer, only for Tiffany to go quiet in return.

Tiffany and Nate talked about marriage many times before but never spoke on when they wanted to take that step. They had been together for three years up to this point. Tiffany was ready. She felt like they were ready as a couple, but it was really up to Nate. After all, he was the one that needed to propose. The woman stopped bringing up the conversation of marriage after awhile. Every time she would ask Nate when they were getting married, he would quickly change the subject. He didn't like talking about it sometimes because he felt pressured. He wanted to marry Tiffany; he knew she was the woman for him. But, he wasn't exactly ready for that yet. At one point, Tiff was tired of waiting, so she gave up on the idea of marriage all together. If it happened, then it happened. If not, then that was okay, too. She was going to have to live with that decision.

"Uh, I don't know— don't turn this on me!" Tiffany screeched with a laugh of embarrassment. "This is about you!" Vanessa shrugged, going back to decorating the reception desks. She was happy the attention was off of her for the moment.

"Now, now. Calm all that down," Chrissy quieted the young women before an argument ensued. Although they were all friends, she could feel the tension building from all the talk about a sensitive subject such as relationships. "If she wants to have her fun, let her do that," the older woman vocalized, supporting Vanessa's decision to date more than one person. As long as she was being safe, that's all that mattered. "Ain't no shame in that. I was the same way at her age."

"Really?" Chrissy's statement had Sunshine intrigued. She was curious to hear about her co-worker's past. She rarely talked about anything from her personal life unless it was about her husband or children. She looked up to Mrs. Chrissy in many ways. It was nice to see that she was very vocal about being your own person and having fun— something women were always criticized for doing.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you up there with them seasoned folk," Vanessa teased. She loved joking about Mrs. Chrissy's age. She wasn't exactly old, but she wasn't as young as them either.

"Vanessa, don't make me hurt you," Mrs. Chrissy glared at her.

The women laughed out loud, all of them being used to this type of playful banter. That's what made them work so well together. They could be serious and honest with each other, but they knew how to have fun, as well. They all loved each other dearly. They were more than co-workers; they were family. Tiffany was blessed to have these women working with her. She was blessed to have them in her life, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

#my current works #december prompts #music #burn merry christmas

[sunflowerdigs]

I would like to ask all the numbers of the Salty Asks for RNM.

Oh wow, thanks anon! I'm truly out of f*cks tonight so let's do this. First half below.

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get? Alex/Eduardo. I'm sorry but the idea of any man trying to get Alex to call him Daddy is laughably absurd, not even from the his-dad-was-an-abusive-asshole standpoint but from the Alex-is-the-most-Daddy standpoint.

Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?* Kylex. Maribel. Strangely, I only ship Maria and Isobel if they're in a thruple with Kyle. Somehow that changes the dynamic? Either way, Maria and Isobel give off this fun high school mean girl energy together sometimes that I vibe with, but I prefer it in a really close friendship. Kylex could sleep naked together in a sleeping bag and I don't think I'd feel any heat. Both Alex and Kyle need to partner with a more intense personality in order to bring out their inner fire.

Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Not in this fandom. But I'm also careful who I follow here.

Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?* The NoTP to rule them all - Rosa and racist Wyatt. Thank goodness they're unpopular or I would have left fandom.

Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?* Canon is actually doing a much better job of ruining pairings than fandom, lmao. Miluca, Maribel + Kyle, Jim Valenti/monogamy...

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?* I never hated Kybel but it was definitely the beige of RNM ships for me until I read some fanfic where their connection and the ways that they empower each other were explored more deeply.

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?* Maria and Alex's friendship. Maria coming onto Alex because he said that kissing her didn't make him want to dissociate wrecked that one for me a little bit.

Have you received anon hate? What about?Probably? I can't really recall. RNM fans have actually been unusually polite in my inbox.

Most disliked character(s)? Why? Besides racist Wyatt? STEPHANIE. It is wildly unfortunate that she didn't have her face eaten by leopards.

Most disliked arc? Why? Kyle and Stephanie's "romantic tension" where she just yelled terrible opinions at him and Kyle, sweet Kyle, actually listened and responded kindly instead of stealing her insurance information and fraudulently applying it to every uninsured person who entered the building.

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? Is Alex considered unpopular at this point? They've sidelined him as much as they possibly could. Either way I like him a lot and I hope they increase his role next season.

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? Does Roswell have arcs? Liz had that period in the back half of s2 where she was violating every scientific ethic she came across for what she thought was the greater good. I like watching protagonists give in to their darker impulses, so I enjoyed it. It's rare that shows will go there. And I think the fact that the audience came out of that arc not hating Liz was a reflection of the warmth and relatability Jeanine brings to the role. She's a good actress in the sense that you can give her schlock and she'll transform it into something watchable and compelling with her delivery. The CW should try to keep her around (Jeanine, you should leave the CW).

Salty Asks Meme

#roswell nm #salty asks meme

[laufire]

@thepawnhits​ asked: I was wondering if you could go into further detail about your comment under the murphystartedthefire about murphy stans who hate emori?

(I hope you don’t mind that I answered over here; it’s just that this post got long enough to merit a read more and I’ve seen tumblr mess up with those in ask posts as of late smh ¬¬)

I know this might come across in ways I don’t intend to-- I’m not here to tell anyone how they define their fan experience; this is specifically about how I see the fandom spectrum. If someone wants to call themselves a Murphy stan and hate on Emori I’ll simply assume we have a different definition of the term and that they have remarkably bad taste xD and move on.

On that vein: according to my vision of what a stan is, I would never see someone that hates Emori as a Murphy stan.

There are wildly different ways to love a character, and stanning is only one of them, and the rarest one at that, IMO. Sometimes we think we love a character (or like them, or have “come around” to them), to discover later that it wasn’t so. I know it’s happened to me a few times (and I take pride in knowing myself quite well, overall, lol), that looking back I ended up thinking, well --in hindsight, I didn’t love them that much. For example, I would’ve count Daenerys as one of my favourites in the ASOIAF books, maybe even number one at some points, and I did like her on the show whenever I tuned in (not that often). However, I’m not enraged about her ending, and in fact I appreciate quite a lot of what the GOT finale did. Because though I like Daenerys, I was willing to trade her for other characters and other developments that mattered more to me when it counted --at the very end. Because I liked Daenerys, maybe loved her even, but I did not stan Daenerys (that I reserved for Cersei lmao).

Stanning, to me, is something quite unique and nebulous to define, but it more or less comes down to this: you nterpret the story through that character, other characters & how they affect them included (you will ship different ships if you stan a character vs. if you merely like them, IMO); they’re your number one priority to the point you’d “betray” your loyalties to other characters you like (if you’re capable to even like them in the first place, if they’re in the way of your fave. I happen to be, which creates a lot of conflict in my fannish life until the endgame comes and all bets are off lmao, but not everyone is and they probably have an easier time of it xD); and you want them to have the BEST, richest storyline, to get everything they say they want and more (and the keyword here is “say”, because if you stan a character you will take what they say at face value; you won’t doubt their POV, you won’t think they’re ~misguided and need to be “taught a lesson”, that they need to fundamentally change who they are at their core. You’d love them as they are because stanning is a fucking ridiculous state of being), even when it looks like it’s way beyond their reach.

Stanning is also very self-centered of us fans. All fannish love is, I guess. We don’t love characters the way we love people (not the ones we love genuinely, beyond ourselves, at least). It goes through a filter of what WE think and want too, because characters aren’t real people and their well-being only matters in-so-far as we’ve latched onto them. Fannish love is different from person to person, but one thing that’s true for my type of stanning is that “happiness”, as in the character being easily “content” matters a lot less to me than them winning. So whether or not a most interesting ship from them happens to bring them heartbreak once in a while... so what, as long as it brings real, tangible benefits to their storyline? With second-rate characters I like I might say “oh, that ship is nice, it makes them happy, it’s convenient for them”, etc. With my OTPs and my faves that’s not even in my radar. I want victory, not contentment, ffs.

Another thing it’s important to take into account and that I rarely if ever see fandom mentioning is that where a character is positioned in the narrative conditions how you love them. It’s not the same to start out the show with Clarke as your number one fave (even if boy, did she took a few hits in the meantime), or even Octavia and Bellamy (... same with him), than if you latch onto Raven, Murphy, etc. They weren’t quite at the bottom of the barrel, there were always characters way below them, but they were positioned explicitly below other characters in their introductions.

Fans adjust their expectations when they love secondary characters like that, whether they’re able to admit it or even realize it. We expect them to get less than the leads, because that’s how hierarchies work. Most of the time we’re right, but sometimes there are ~shakeups, and The 100 is one of those times, IMO. Because of that, Murphy got a lot more of what would’ve been expected in s1. Faced with that, fans need to reajust, but some can’t. Depending on how risk-averse they are, they might fear that their fave is getting something that’s not their “due” according to the initial structure, and that means they’ll be “punished” for it and have it, at the very least, taken away. The bigger they are, the harder the fall, etc. Personally I happen to like the risk --no risk, no reward--, and this ~timid way of loving your number one doesn’t align with my view of stanning characters at all *shrug*. Like, what the fuck is the point if you’re gonna settle for mediocrity xD

Now, wrt Memori specifically.

I have alluded to this in several post in the past; here I talk a little bit about Memori as a narrative that uplifts Murphy, for example. That, to me, it’s the gist of it. Memori is AMAZING for Murphy’s storyline. AMAZING. It’s THE romance of the show, period. It does wonders for his character, it’s made him The Romantic Hero (which is the most flattering way a male character can ever come across IMO), it’s made him pull outstanding stunts. Memori brings the most of Murphy, and as someone that loves Murphy, I love Memori for it (among other many reasons, like the fact that it’s very much My Type of ship).

Somehow people claim that because she was “mean” (...) to him in s5 that’s a bad relationship for him and... lmfao. EVEN if I thought they said that in good faith (ha!); EVEN if I agreed with them in their reading of the ship (ha!)... MEMORI IS NOT A REAL RELATIONSHIP.

MEMORI IS A FICTIONAL PAIRING. I don’t give a fuck about “healthy”, and I don’t see the vast majority of fans do either; not when push comes to shove, not about the ships that truly matter to them, their OTPs, and not just their ~casual pairings. I don’t want Memori to be a conflict-free storyline, because I think it would be an objectively worse ship if it was. Sometimes the conflict will be Memori vs. the world. Sometimes it’ll be Emori vs. Murphy. I think both have merit and both had done a lot of good for the ship.

So then, I question: why would people who love Murphy (or claim to, or genuinely think they do but), hate on Emori and think she’s the worst thing that’s happen to him, in the face of the overwhelming proof of the contrary?

One option is that, like I say, they find Memori to risky, to beyond Murphy as he was introduced in s1 (this fandom is even more stuck in s1 mentality than most I’ve encountered, and that’s saying something). It could be, though I haven’t seen clear examples of it.

What I have seen are examples of people that, for a variety of reasons, aren’t being quite truthful about their priorities, tbh. This will sound presumptous on my part but I can’t bring myself to care because I’m quite tired of this fandom; it’s repetitive af, even if I weren’t to take into account that I have been in several fandoms, even if often as a mere lurker, and I’ve seen all of this before, over and over again. I’m TIRED people xD

I’ll be blunt: this attitude, comes from CLARKE’s stans, not Murphy’s. People whose priority is Clarke, and that think she should be centered in the show (usually with Bellamy/Clarke as the ship they use to channel it --the ones that go for Lexa don’t seem as keen on invading Emori and Memori’s tags but they might be out there too). Potentially I could see it from Bellamy stans too (though frankly, on the vein of this post, my definition of a stan wouldn’t ship Bellamy with Clarke lol); so far Memori and Bellamy aligned quite well in canon, but all the s7 could change that and turn into resentment.

Because that’s what I think it is in a lot of cases: resentment. Resentment that Murphy and Emori get a Romance, capital letters, while their own ship is... well. While their ship isn’t. I’ve seen this happen in other fandoms and that’s all there is: petty jealousy. Why can’t my fave enjoy this?? Which, btw, is a sentiment I can sympathy with? It’s the way they try to pass it for something more that annoys me LOL.

And tbh I think that’s what a lot of Murven “shipping” comes from (and even that short moment of Murphy/Echo shipping I remember from s5 lol): it’s not genuine, passionate shipping; it’s convenience shipping that doesn’t own up to it. Now, I think there are Murven shippers out there that are passionate about it; I myself like it a little, even if only in a fanon context (and preferably in a thruple lol), but a.) I’ve happened to see those more often than not multiship Memori too either way, and b.) you can tell a lot of those shippers aren’t genuine by their reactions to the Murven scene in late s6 IMO: they HATED it, not because of the admittedly cringy dialogue lol, but because they were there for each other in a way that didn’t account for Clarke. That scene, which by all accounts should’ve been shipping fodder, was derided and hated on, because to a lot of Clarke stans the ship is just a way to get Murphy into a less potent ship, with the added benefit of keeping those women they feel threatened by away from Bellamy. Win-win.

This is a tangent, but hell, if anything I think having getting canonically paired with Raven would’ve been potentially terrible for Murphy’s narrative. Remember when I say stans take their fave at their word? It’s similar for writers: when writers truly respect a character, they take them at their word. In male characters especially, there’s one way this manifests, and it’s in their romantic storylines: the lead guy (or any guy with real narrative capital) loves One Girl, and One Girl only (if he hesitates between more he’s a no good wishy-washy and weak-willed jerk and the writers can even come to dislike him for it). There’s no version of his story that can look truly victorious if she doesn’t love him back and they don’t get their endgame, period. So when writers “stan” that character, in the particular way writers do, they give him just that: Peak Romance.

If the writers had pulled from Memori to write him with Raven, two things could’ve happen: either it’d happen humiliating Raven for Emori, or the other way around (yes, as fandom we can imagine other scenarios. In actual canon F/M/F triangles almost invariably go like that, sadly). If it’d happened before s6, I would’ve said Emori getting the short end of the stick was a more likely option, though now I’m not so sure. Either way, both scenarios would make Murphy Look Bad for hurting a girl’s feelings (yes, Murphy has killed people. But like I’ve said, Romantic Hero is what looks best and you CAN’T be a romantic hero if you seriously spurn a girl, even if it’s not your #1 girl. Writers are ridiculous but this pattern holds over and over smh). It would’ve been even WORSE if said girl was Emori, because it means the writers no longer respected Murphy’s POV and his priorities. It would change the core of Murphy’s character because Memori was written into his DNA, no turn backs, the way Bellamy as Octavia’s Big Brother was on his, for example.

Aaaaaanyway. I hope this has shined some light on what I meant lol. But I guess it can be summarized with: in terms of pure narrative, Emori has been consistently great for Murphy’s character. Why would you hate her if you love him, in the way a stan loves?

#memori #the 100 #john murphy #emori #thepawnhits #t100 thoughts #replies #talking to the void #my thoughts #favourites: the powah of lurve #you WISH your faves could ever

[visionaxry]

ELITE S3

SPOILER WARNING

Okay, was this season the best or am I so addicted to this show that every time it comes back I love it even more?

First and foremost. Polo deserved to rot in jail for the rest of his life, not to escape his agony by dying and get forgiveness from Guzmán. Just because he‘s dead he’s not any less of a murderer. Polo apologists can F off. You can like him as a character but do not excuse his actions. Marina’s murder was not an accident. Polo made a choice, and we saw how he wanted to hurt Ander the same way in S2. He could kill again... Well, at least now he won’t.

Now on to my favorite characters.

Rebeka continues to be the best. I’m glad she got more of a storyline this season. She’s definitely a character who you’d want to be best friends with. The scenes of her supporting Ander and coming out to him were beautiful. A lot of people - me included - wanted Rebe to be non-straight. When she admitted her feelings for Carla, I couldn’t believe we actually got the possibility of Rebeka and Carla ditching Samuel to be together. Sadly, I was right not to believe it. These «feelings» sank into oblivion just after they were revealed. We got no interaction (besides Rebe giving Carla drugs and apologizing about it), no longing looks, no development (even one-sided). Instead Rebeka was stuck in a forced romance with no chemistry, showcasing only jealousy over Samu towards Carla. As for Samu, he seemed to love Rebe as a friend, much like Marina loved him in S1. After all, Rebeka truly deserves someone who will reciprocate her feelings and a better crimeless life, which I really hope she will get in S4.

Samuel has done the impossible in S2 by becoming my favorite character. He used to embody “the good guy” trope which I hate, but he developed from this perfect-innocent-annoying character to a protagonist you can actually cheer for. Some people may argue that he’s still irritating and doesn’t deserve Carla. Nonetheless, I believe he balances off La Marquesa very well and I totally supported him on his quest for justice over two seasons.

Guzmán didn’t really shine that much in this season, yet he managed to returne into my top favorite characters. He still struggles to control his anger and grief, but he’s already more mature than he ever was, which is mostly visible in his behavior towards Nadia and Lucrecia.

Guzmán’s friendship with Samuel was the best this season, alongside Lú and Nadia’s, and I hope to see more of it next season.

Carla. The character I didn’t care about in S1, didn’t trust in S2, and finally loved in S3. Her story this season was heartbreaking, and getting more of her family dynamic helped to understand how her mind works. She’s used to being a kid acting as an adult, manipulating, simulating feelings, taking care of business and people who threaten her family’s image, because that’s the only model of behavior she’s ever had. That’s why her obtaining freedom from drugs, parents, and social expectations at the end couldn’t be more satisfying.

Lú and Ander. The only characters that made me cry this season. Two characters I like a lot, each with one flaw that I can’t forgive. Lú’s one being incest which is a choice not a part of love-is-love formula, and I hate the show for romanticizing it. And Ander’s - being friends with Polo.

Lú has always been an interesting character for me (resembling Blair from Gossip Girl). She obviously hid all her insecurities under a bitchy exterior, and I wanted to see more of her emotional side, which was given in her beautiful friendship with Nadia. Lú and Nadia are two sides of the same coin, and them becoming frenemies was long-overdue. Them supporting, comforting each other, and going to study abroad together was a dream come true. (Their friendship reminds me of Santana&Rachel from Glee, let’s hope this one’ll work out).

Lú was expected to be a hbic when the show came out, but eventually that slot was taken by Carla. Lú wasn’t really involved in the main plot until this season. That’s why her killing Polo was unexpected to say the least. Towards the end of the last episode I thought that whoever killed Polo must be someone who you wouldn’t even think of. Sweeping aside the obvious Guzmán and Samuel, I determined Ander, Nadia and Lú as my suspects. Still when Lú went after Polo with the bottle until the very killing I thought it was a decoy. Lú becoming a murderer was in fact an accident even though she probably went in with an intention to hurt him. Her feeling remorse was truly heartbreaking, and I hope we’ll see more of the aftermath this all had on her.

In such a murderous show it‘s valuable to have a different perspective on life and death through Ander’s character. His journey this season made the concepts of justice and resentment shine in another light.

The part of Ander’s story that I didn’t like was his romantic relationship and it wasn’t even his fault. That’s why we’re moving on to the character who disappointed me the most.

THE DOWNFALL OF OMAR

By this point Omar has collected so many flaws that I hate his character.

Let’s start from S2 when him being friendly with Lú was cute and all but also meant betraying his sister, who shall I mention has never done any harm to him, only helped and supported him.

Then he certainly crossed the line this season by cheating on Ander with Nadia’s boyfriend. Continuously. Nadia was quick to forgive Omar which was so infuriating. Not only did he not prevent his sister from falling for a liar, but he also kept sleeping with him. Furthermore, when confronted about it instead of apologizing he turned the situation on Nadia.

Needless to say, Ander did not deserve to be cheated on AND being lied to. Omar still hasn’t told he cheated. When Ander pushed him away by lying that he cheated, Omar seemed more concerned with where would he live now rather than the break up itself.

At this point Omar and Ander didn’t seem like a good match, and I was begging for them to break up. How happy was I when they actually did. It felt necessary and realistic for this relationship to come to an end. Unfortunately, I was early to celebrate. They had to go and ruin this perfect ending. I am mad Omar went back to Ander. I can’t believe this relationship will be dragged on for another season. I hate the fact that Omar will go to Las Encinas now. May I ask how could Omar even get a scholarship with his low grades???

There’re a few relationships left to discuss.

There was a lot of everybody-sleeping-with-everybody going on, but not much deep connections.

Guznadia and Carmuel didn’t get a lot of screen time, even though the few scenes they got were sweet.

Carla’s enslavement of a relationship was truly toxic and appalling.

Malick and Nadia’s relationship was hard to get on board with since the beginning and of course disappointing by the end in both the ship and Malick’s character.

Malick and Yeray were not captivating nor charming. Overall, S3 failed to introduce new characters especially compared to S2.

It was cool to see that the show didn’t abandon polyamory representation. Valerio, Polo and Cayetana getting together was unpredictable. I expected Valerio to get with Rebeka, and even her mom, but those rendezvous blew over like they never happened, and left Valerio to the psychos.

Do you know what would be even cooler than this threesome? A thruple consisting of actually likable characters. When will we get Rebeka with Samu and Carla? That would be quality representation.

With all my impressions laid out I have to say that this show is amazing. It keeps the audience in suspense with an intriguing plot while also developing numerous multidimensional characters and tackling serious societal issues and philosophical questions.

#tv show rant #movies #elite season 3 #elite s3 #elite 3 #elite spoilers #tv show reviews #netflix tv shows #tv shows #spanish tv shows

[stillbitterbuthealing]

I’m exploring polyamory at the moment because it answers several questions I have about the structure and dynamics of a heteronormative relationship. I have a lot of thoughts about monogamy and nature and marriage and history. I’m not interested in questioning anyone elses choices, just as I hope they will not judge mine. But that is easier when it’s an 80/20 split for monogamy and marriage. 

The idea of a thruple was brought up to me at one point, and it sounded so ideal that I started dreaming about it. A network of support, for the times that one person may not suffice for the situation at hand. For example, I feel like every person has 3-5 traits that they try to match with their partners, but maybe one will only have the 3, but you love them so much, so you settle on the fact that you’ll be doing those other two on your own. Whether it be a hobby or a preference for where to vacation or what have you. Why not have another person who is willing to do THOSE things with you if the first one isn’t? There’s no reason to cut somebody out that you love just because they’d rather not do some arbitrary activity that you feel passionate about. I feel like at this point people will think, “Those are just friends.” But it’s not, because friends have their own significant others to whom they always report back to. Whether they live together or just are committed, that relationship comes first. In this case, they’d be just as committed to me. Polyamory is mislabelled and misunderstood. I think it’s about everything other than sex. It’s about connection. Feeling a connection with multiple people and doing things that I enjoy with people who also enjoy them. The part that gets muddy is the varying levels of sexual contact. I think that the one question people would have regarding any relationship is, “are you fucking?” But whether the answer is yes or no, it’s not their business. If I want to share it with them, then I will. They need to understand that the sex is not the relationship. Sex is natural and doesn’t have to be so rigid and restrictive. All they need to understand is I care about this person and they care about me, and I cared enough to introduce you and bring you into this. Accept that with gratitude because I could have hidden it or disguised it using terms more easily understood but false. And I will accept your understanding and non-judgment with gratitude too.

Now, these are my thoughts about polyamory having never had a polyamorous relationship and only just starting to really explore and research it. This is my understanding of it based on what I feel I want, how I feel about people, how I desire connection.

I don’t want to lose my individualism. As I saw my future 5 years ago, I had planned on being a wife and mother, with very few goals professionally or academically besides. And I could so easily imagine becoming a dependent, unhappy, suicidal (most-likely) housewife, losing myself to the relationship, becoming a We, not a Me. On that path, I could only imagine my life ending too soon and by my own hand. Never truly satisfied or fulfilled. Now that I’m imagining the possibilities that this new path could present me, I see joy.

#lgbtq #pride #coming out #poly #polyamory #bisexual #journal

[its-a-queer-thing]

Hello lovely! I wondered what your opinion on Svetlana is. Obviously besides what happened in 3x06 (which I'm not sure how I feel in terms of how much blame can be put on Svetlana given the circumstances) I feel like she did become a likeable character in s6 and most of s7, especially with the reveal of her being extremely intelligent with maths and loving/accepting in her relationship with Kev and V. Whether good or bad she does become an unlikely developed character given her background

Hello to you, love! :D

I have a very conflicted opinion on Svet. I don’t blame her for raping Mickey. She was just a tool in that situation, not even really understanding what was going on except for what she overheard. So while I’m sure she put two and two together, the fact is she couldn’t have refused even if she cared enough to want to; so I don’t blame her for 3x666. I don’t even blame her for willingly going along with the wedding. Looking at her face as she walked down the aisle, it really looked like she thought she was getting her fairy tale ending complete with husband and child–some sense of normalcy in a world where NOTHING is average about her life, and she probably always wanted some sense of stability.

What I DO blame her for is not being a little more understanding of Mickey’s situation. What she easily could have done was talk to Ian that next morning after Mickey brought him home to sober up. She saw the look Mickey was giving him while Ian was passed out, she knew that they each felt something for the other, and she felt threatened because she for some reason thought Ian would be a distraction. I personally argue that Ian would have always been a positive influence in Mickey’s relationship with the baby, but of course how could Svet have known that? What bothers me is for someone who is supposedly so smart and so good at reading people (as they made her in season 6 and 7) she was shit at it in season 4. Instead of threatening Ian she could have been like, hey, Mickey is not cooperating with this baby thing, bring him on board and we’ll make this work. She didn’t need to threaten him with a hammer. If she had tried to talk to Ian for ten minutes I’m almost certain Ian would have gone along with trying to bring Mickey on board. 

Instead, she got pissed when Mickey rejected the product of his rape and then threatened his safety. Why she is surprised he rejected the baby is truly beyond me and goes back to my question of her supposed ability to read people… it was conveniently created for seasons 5, 6, and 7, but for some reason she couldn’t read the situation for what it was while she was pregnant? Then on top of that, when she wasn’t getting her way she immediately resorted to blackmailing and threatening, as though Mickey would honestly ever respond to that. She knew what Terry would do if she exposed that Mickey was still gay and still fucking Ian, and she used that to get a shallow version of what she wanted. I say shallow because Svet wanted full cooperation, even if it wasn’t conventional, and she had 9 months to get it. Mickey never gave the indication (that I can see) that he gave a shit about her or the baby even before Ian showed up, so why it was suddenly apparent to her that he didn’t care when Ian showed up, I don’t know. She had nine months to be like “hey, I know you don’t care about me or the baby, I know this isn’t what you want, but whether you like it or not we are in this shit show together and it’d be great if you worked with me here. It’s not my fault either.” And then after she realized he and Ian were playing house, she could have been like “look, bring him along! We don’t have to tell your father, but I NEED help because this is no more my fault than it is yours.” And I almost guarantee Ian would have been right there, and I argue that because he immediately cared for that child starting with when he dropped off Liam’s old clothes and asking Mandy if he’d be okay.

 I just can’t forgive her for blackmailing Mickey and threatening his safety. I can’t. Yes, I understand her reasons for it and I understand her background, but she knew that Mickey would probably get killed the next time he was outed and was using his fear to get what she wanted, and I can’t imagine that a woman as intelligent and resourceful as Svetlana couldn’t have figured out a better angle to play this at to get Mickey even somewhat on board.

Season 5, Svet was great (cooperating with Ian and Mickey, finding their pattern, being open with them being together so long as Yev was taken care of) UNTIL she sexually assaulted Kev and V. They ended up being okay with it, but that doesn’t change the fact that the first time she sexually manipulated/assaulted them, they both said “no” but she kept doing it. Sorry not sorry, I don’t find that endearing or okay in any way, even if they did end up turning into a “thruple.” 

Then for seasons 6 and 7 she is SUDDENLY a whiz with numbers and knows how to do ALL of these things and while it’s cool to show that sex workers aren’t dumb or only good for sex, it was also just so sudden that it seemed they were trying to MAKE her perfect. That of course is not Svetlana’s character’s fault, but the writers so I’m really just mentioning this to respond to what you mentioned more than anything lol.

Everything with the Thruple was okay UNTIL it was revealed how much she has lied and the fact that we REALLY have no idea when she’s telling the truth. THEN she steals the bar. And it’s not even JUST that she stole the bar, but that she did it under the guise of adoption papers. 

That’s fucking cold. 

Kev and V were so excited to adopt Yev and become an even more official family unit, and so then for that to turn out to be her stealing away their source of income?? Cold. She could have held a family meeting and been like “Kev, I know you love this bar but the way it’s running right now, it’s going to fail. Here are some ideas for how to improve it, let’s put it to a vote.” Let’s be real, V would have absolutely backed her up as an intelligent and (generally) reasonable woman, and while Kev probably would have had a bit of a problem with it, it would have been an honest way to go about it and she wouldn’t have betrayed these people she claims to love.

I guess my number one problem with Svet is that she’s a horrible person for understandable reasons, but the understandable reasons for some reason don’t excuse her in my mind… I STILL feel like she should know better for some of these complaints I have, because usually she shows how she could have/should have gone about the situation the first time, like three or four episodes later. But then also the writers are inconsistent with her character to make her look better than she is or worse than she is depending on what their mood is for that episode. 

Like I said, Svet is complicated. Sometimes I love her, other times I love to hate her.

Thanks for the ask, that was a lot longer than I anticipated, but you gave me a lot to think about! 

#answered #svetlana milkovich #svetlana ball #svetlana fisher #shameless #shameless us #svetlana rant #whoops

[fakingitfanfiction]

Her Latest Flame Chapter 21: All Aboard

Previous Chapters

Sophie sees it coming. Right from the moment she sees Reagan’s number on her phone, to the minute she calls her back, eight hours later. Eight hours and thirteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds and yes, she counted them all and no, that doesn't make her weird and if you think that it does, she’s got two fucking words for you.

You’re probably right.

Alright… so three words. She never claimed to be good at math so just go ahead and fuck right off, OK, cause the math? So not the point.

The point is that she sees it coming like a mile away, like she’s staring it down even as she finds herself tied to the tracks, and that train is barreling on, coming closer and closer and no matter how much she struggles, no matter how hard she fights, those knots in the ropes are just too fucking tight.

Yeah, she knows it’s an odd metaphor, she gets that. But come on, maybe we ought to cut the girl a bit of slack. Just a few days ago she thought - so so so fucking wrongly - that she’d found someone she could love (OK, that part might have been right) and someone who could, maybe, love her back, if she just gave her enough time and enough… incentive.

Except now she knows that part was never going to be right cause there’s not enough time in all of eternity and as much incentive as she can give - and it's a lot - it’s never going to measure up to what she’d like to call the ‘memory’ or, really, the 'memories’, cause she’s absolutely sure that there’s a lot of them, but the problem with either of those is they’re both past tense and if there’s anything Sophie’s sure of now, it’s that that train that’s about to grind her up beneath its wheels?

Yeah, it’s anything but past.

Anything but past or over or done or… just pick your fucking term cause Sophie’s fresh out of vocabulary words for the day and if it weren’t for the Redbull portion of those five Redbulls and vodkas she put away last night, she’d be pretty much fresh out of damn near everything at this point, because, it should be noted, the whole 'thought I’d found the one' ridiculousness isn't all she’s had to deal with.

What else, you ask? Oh, you need a refresher?

Well, there was also the whole discovering her 'maybe’ one was Amy’s ’always’ one and then there was the whole having to confront her friend - best friend and, unless you count Lauren (and you really can’t because she's definitely Amy’s) or Reagan (do we need to spell that one out?) then best might also be synonymous with only and that’s a whole other heartbreak in and of itself - and, of course, there’s the whole punching said best (only) friend bit and then there’s the drunken night with Reagan that didn’t go the way Sophie’d imagined a drunken night with Reagan would go, like at all.

And that was before the talk with Farrah and the phone call with Reagan that took eight hours to get to but lasted less than eight minutes - cause, really, how long does it take to say 'we should talk’ and 'can you meet me’ and not say 'it’s you, it's always been you’ - and, truthfully, Sophie ought to be fucking commended for it being only five R+V’s.

So, yeah, she can be forgiven a mixed metaphor or two, but no matter how she phrases it, the point is always the same. That train’s coming and it’s coming for her (something Reagan never did and no, she’s not thinking about that right now, but it might have crossed her mind a time or two in between R+V #’s 1 and 5) and, if she’s being honest, the thing that really, truly, absolutely pisses her right the fuck off?

(Besides all of it)

It’s that, no matter how hard she tries - and she’s fucking tried - she can’t manage to see either Reagan or Amy as the evil mustache twirling villain what tied her to those tracks. Oh, make no mistake about it, she is the one on the tracks and they are safe on the train (maybe in different cars, at the moment, but come on, we all know that won't last) but Sophie can’t quite see them as wrong. Not for what they feel, at least.

What they did… well… it’s gonna take a few more R+V’s - like all the Redbull and most of the vodka in the fucking world - for her to not see that as wrong.

(And no, she’s not thinking about how right some parts of her - some stupidly thruple leaning parts - might see what they did.) (She hasn’t thought about that since R+V #3.)

(Not much, anyway.)

But Sophie can’t hate them for how they feel or for never getting over each other, and she can’t even hate them (much) for chugga chugga chugging their powerful locomotive of inevitable love right over her. When you find that, when you stumble your way into discovering the person that you can’t ever let go of - even when you’re holding on to someone else - that's exactly the kind of thing that you should fight for and you should refuse to let go and you shouldn't give even two tiny damns about anyone who gets between you and it.

Even when that 'anyone’ between you and it is your best (but not only cause Lauren and maybe not even best cause Karma, sort of, kinda, maybe) friend and roommate and you won’t be quite the same without her.

Sophie’s spent a lot of time lately - mostly sober time, but quite a bit of drunk too - wondering if she would have done something different in Amy’s place.

The fact that she’s never come up with an answer one way or the other just pisses her off more but it does explain why, really, all she can do is watch that train come (shut up) and hope that when it gets there, when the blow finally comes?

It comes quick.

(Oh, for fuck’s sake…)

And that and that other stupid fucking hope, that unspoken but not un-thought desperate prayer that maybe - just maybe - there will be something salvageable out of all this when it’s done - and 'it’s' totally means the breaking of the kinda already broken bits of her heart - is the only feasible explanation anyone would need for why she’s here, sitting in a diner, watching as Reagan slides down into the chair across from her and, more importantly, why she’s not angrily tossing a glass of water in her face and storming out the door in a huff.

Well… that last part might have something to do with R+V #1 and #2 and, yeah, #3 through #5 cause, really, Sophie doesn’t think she’s got a single 'huff’ in her.

The vodka is taking up all the room.

Still - and maybe it’s the Redbull - Sophie can’t quite bring herself to focus, to really listen, and so, when Reagan starts with 'Thanks for coming, I wasn’t sure you would’ she just wonders, for a second, just how many times she’s said that recently. There was a mention, in those less than eight minutes, of talking to Heather, so there’s one, for sure. And now there’s her, which makes two. And, yes, Sophie totally knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help her wandering mind, and it can’t stop wondering if Reagan said those same words to Amy.

Which, you know, totally defeats her whole 'not gonna think about them together’ plan - did she forget to mention that? - but, honestly, that was shot long ago, cause she’s been thinking pretty much of nothing but for damn near all of the last twenty-four hours, to the point of being sick of hearing herself, sick of thinking about it, of thinking about what Farrah said about it and, most of all, sick of trying (and failing) to consider all of the options she’s got about what to do about it.

And when she says 'all’ of the options she really means the few cause, let’s face it, there’s not that many choices for her here and none of them (not a single fucking one) are good and all of them (every single fucking one) involve someone getting hurt and yes, that someone is almost always her and yes, that is why none of them are good and why none of this is even kinda fair and yes, she ought to be paying attention to what Reagan’s saying to her but, truthfully?

Sophie’s just about used up her 'yes, I’m listening’ fucks and her 'I know you’re sorry’ fucks and her 'it’s OK, I get that you didn’t mean to hurt me’ (that came right after “I wasn’t sure you would” and just before "I’m sorry" and she’s not entirely sure that’s the order that they should have been in) and her 'of course I understand how it could just… happen’ (and parts of her really do, all the decidedly non heart parts) and her 'no, I don’t mean one single fucking word of what I’m saying and you can’t seriously think that I do’ fucks.

So, you know, basically all the fucks. Sophie’s just fresh out of fucks to give and fucks to feel and fucks to care. She’s utterly absolutely completely fuckless.

And yet…

Here she is.

She came when Reagan called and - Reagan’s 'not sure you would’ notwithstanding - there was never any doubt, and Sophie knew that, which is maybe why she held out for eight hours, trying to save what little dignity she had left. Like that ship hadn’t sailed long ago and yes, she knows it was a train before and now there’s a ship and she’s pretty sure, eventually, there’s gonna be a car too - cause, it’s planes, trains, and automobiles, motherfucker - but the transportation of her metaphors is, again, so not the point.

Though, at this point, Sophie’s not even sure what the point is other than wishing Reagan would hurry the fuck up and get to it and put her out of her Old fucking Yeller misery.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” Reagan says, right on time for Sophie to tune back out of her own head and into the conversation - one sided as it may be - and it's perfect timing cause that might be the first thing that Reagan’s said that she actually agrees with, seeing as how she knows all too well what that’s like.

Sophie’s been thinking about it a lot too. And by 'a lot’ she means pretty much all the thoughts all the time. Most of those thoughts, even the ones before the Redbull and the vodka, were of that one moment, of Reagan in the doorway with the phone clutched in her hand, and how it all suddenly made sense. Sophie keeps replaying that slow realization that washed over her, the dawning idea that of just who belonged to who.

Reagan was Amy's her - the nameless ex (and oh, who’s regretting Rule #6 now?) that she’s never quite put behind her (and oh, there’s an image) - and Amy was Reagan’s her, the one she said she was ready to forget though, in her defense, that’s easier to do when said 'her’ isn’t standing right in front of you.

Or, you know, laying next to you. Or on top of you. Or between your legs staring up at you as she slowly…

Fuck.

This is why she had that plan, that not think of them together plan and, honestly, this is why that plan never stood a snowball in Liam Booker’s Thunder Box’s chance of succeeding.

But, again, not the point.

This point Sophie does know though, cause it’s so fucking obvious. That realization, that slow and stumbling trip to Amy and Reagan and true love… it hurt. It hurt like hell, it hurt even more than that other, considerably faster realization, the dawning - sprinting - idea that they…

They… well… yeah. They… you know.

That one hit her like a fucking Mack truck (sort of a car, right?), crushing her on the spot. But it’s funny to her - like the way a shiv in your kidney or a bullet to the spleen or stepping on a Lego in the middle of the night is funny - that the 'you know’ wasn’t really the problem, that it wasn’t the pain.

Sophie knew she could compete with sex, even great sex and yes, she’s sure that any Reamy sex, even if it was just a hook up (and it so wasn’t), even if was just 'the feels’ without the feels would be great… no… AWESOME sex (and yes, all those caps are absolutely necessary) and maybe some of those thoughts about Reagan in the door and the phone and all the realizations might have drifted a bit sometimes (to Reagan and Amy, like that) or maybe just a bit more than a bit (thruple) (thruple that begins with her just watching cause… well, that’s just polite but then Amy - and it’s Amy every time - reaches out for her and then, well, it's game fucking on) but, eventually, all those thoughts come back to one simple equation that even her math challenged brain can compute.

It’s Amy for Reagan and Reagan for Amy and that 1+1 doesn’t = thruple. Not where it counts.

Maybe it would count in their bed, but not in their hearts and yup, there it is, there’s that shiv and that bullet and that fucking lego in the night (one of the big bricks, none of that tiny little two-hole shit) and so, yeah, she’s been thinking about it and yes, that’s yet another reason she shouldn’t be here, not that she really need any more of those.

That moment in the door was really the only one she’d ever need.

Or… you know… not. Cause here she fucking is and oh, wait… Reagan's still talking?

“It’s been about the only thing I’ve thought of,” Reagan says, and, what do you know, that gives them two whole things in common, and that’s two more than Sophie expected. “I’ve come at it from every angle,” Reagan says, “but I just can’t figure it, you know?”

Yeah. Sophie knows.

“It’s been keeping me up at night,” Reagan says and what was that Sophie thought about all her fucks to give? “I toss and turn,” she says, shaking her head, fingers drumming a steady beat on the tabletop. She’s nervous and she’s beating around the bush and she’s doing everything she can to do anything but get to the fucking point. “And I just end up laying there, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. I don’t know what to do or how I… did what I did.” Reagan stares down at her drumming fingers, and Sophie’s sure that’s mostly because that means no eye contact, as that’s apparently the one thing she can’t do. “Last night I was so mad and so… wrecked… so lost that I… cracked. I spent like hour just screaming and pounding my fists into the mattress.”

Sophie takes a sip of her water and wonders, briefly, if Reagan even realizes how close those descriptions of her torment come to matching Sophie’s imaginings of them together, what with the screaming and the fists and the mattress and all.

Though, in fairness, Sophie usually pictures Amy doing most of the screaming which is probably only because she’s, you know, actually heard that.

(Elsie)

(Rule 21: If it happens again, Amy will buy Sophie a pair of Beats headphones and don’t even play like you don’t know what 'it’ is, Raudenfeld.)

(They’re purple. Sophie’s Beats. Ironic, no?)

Sophie takes another sip of her water - drinks: the socially awkward’s perfect shield - trying to remember her plan. She’s not here to think about Amy and Reagan together or any ridiculous thrupleized version of Amy and Reagan and her. She’s here, she reminds herself, cause she’s hurt and mad and hurt and wronged and hurt and betrayed and did she mention hurt?

It bears fucking repeating.

And she’s here because she sees it coming - that damn train - and the quicker it gets here, the quicker it’s done and that’s one step closer to her figuring out just how much she’s really lost.

She’s afraid it’s going to be everything.

She's more afraid that it won’t be.

Sophie tries - stick to the fucking plan - but, in the end, she forgets that Reagan doesn’t know the plan and she’s sure as hell not sticking to it, not when she quits drumming, reaching across the table instead, one hand finding Sophie’s. And oh, will you look at that? Now she make eye contact, now she suddenly can’t look away, even if Sophie tries - and fails fucking miserably and what a shock that is, right? - to look at the table or the floor or the waitress with the really not all that great ass or, you know, anywhere that isn’t Reagan.

“Sophie? Look at me?”

She'd love to cause, well, Reagan. But when she looks at her, she sees them and she doesn’t feel like crying just yet.

Yet being the key word, she’s sure.

“Sophie, please.”

And oh, how this isn’t the context she imagined hearing that in.

“I know you don’t owe me a fucking thing,” Reagan says - and there’s thing number three they agree on - as she gently squeezes Sophie’s hand in hers. “But, please, just look at me?”

If there was ever any way she could have resisted (spoiler: there wasn’t), Sophie knows it flies right out the nearest window when she hears the pain and the pleading and the fucking anguish in Reagan’s voice. She may not have any fucks to give, but she’s still got a heart.

Battered as it is.

Sophie looks over at Reagan and she feels it. Everywhere. In her hand, still clutched atop the table. In her chest, as her heart thuds against her insides, feeling so much less broken which, really, only serves to break it more. And there, right fucking there, in those eyes, the ones that can’t and won’t look away, staring so deeply into her own.

Like they did that night.

I’m ready to forget.

And yeah, that’s a notion Sophie can fucking get behind.

But there’s no time for that cause Reagan… she’s already rolling again, and talking faster than Sophie has ever heard her, like she needs to get it out, like even though she's on the train, she can still see it coming too, and her knots…

They’re digging into her flesh and, if the tears suddenly welling in her eyes are any indication, they may well be drawing blood.

“There’s just no good way out,” Reagan says, and before Sophie can even process that, she’s already moving again, headed right into 'it’s a mess’ and 'it’s just so fucked up’ and, finally, into 'no matter what, someone’s going to get hurt’ and at that, Sophie finally does the smart and right thing and pulls back, retreating as best she can, pulling her hand free and dropping it down into her lap and looking away cause, well…

Duh.

She doesn’t say that, doesn’t even say that, you know, maybe there was a way around that, all the way back before Reagan’s thighs found their way around Amy’s head, again. And this time, thinking of that is only a pain in her heart and not a… feeling… down between her legs, and yes, Sophie realizes that’s probably a good sign.

Probably. Maybe. Most likely.

Of course it is. It’s a good sign, like a good indication that - fuck her dignity - she’s gonna crack and she’s gonna cry and soon she’s gonna run right out of the damn door, tears streaming down her face and then she’ll hit the wall, the cold and hard and wrecking realization that she’s got no one and nowhere to run to, even though she totally should.

Rule #27: When in doubt or need or pain, we go to each other. Always.

Fucking rules.

“Someone said something to me recently,” Reagan says, her hand still just sitting there, limp on the table and she says it like there’s a world in which Sophie can’t figure out that her 'someone’ is obviously Heather, but the bigger thing is: oh my God, she's still talking.

Sophie wants nothing more - has wanted nothing more for the entire fucking conversation - than for Reagan to get to the fucking point, to drop the damn hammer, to hit her with the 'I need Amy and I love Amy and I’m so sorry that it had to be you that paid for our perfect love cause it totally should have been Karma’ and be done with it. But, Reagan seems intent on dragging this shit out like a Walking Dead cliffhanger and Sophie can barely hold back a screaming 'just fucking say it already’.

“Amy runs,” Reagan says - and again, duh - “and that’s on her, but…” She finally pulls her hand back, folding them together in her lap. “All I’ve ever done is give her reasons to. Over and over, I’ve given her nothing but things to run from and that someone… Heather said that maybe it was time I gave her something to run to.”

As much as she feels that shiv twisting and that bullet breaking her skin and that fucking Lego shooting pain up her leg, Sophie feels something else even more.

Relief.

Finally, she thinks. It’s about time, she says to herself. Now she can get on with it, now she can deal with this new reality of Reagan and Amy and how she might fit into that, if she even does or even wants to.

The train’s finally come.

“And so that’s what I’m going to do,” Reagan says. “I"m going to give Amy something to run to.”

It’s the oddest thing, the way part of Sophie wants to just curl up and disappear at the very thought and part of her - a surprisingly big part - can only think that it’s about damn time.

And then Reagan is suddenly standing and it's her cheeks stained with tears and her hands trembling at her sides and it's her saying “I’m bowing out.”

Wait. What?

“I love her and I always will and I don’t know how to fucking stop but I know…” Reagan shakes her head - vehemently - as Sophie starts to rise and that freezes her in place, halfway between a stand and a sit. “But I know this is right. I’m gonna give her something to run to, the one thing I know she won’t run from.”

Oh. Oh no. Oh no.

“I’m giving her you.”

And then she’s gone - exit stage fucking what - and so, yeah, it does end with someone in tears and running and with no one and nowhere to go to except that it’s not the right someone, not the right someone at all. And Sophie’s left there and all she can think?

She so didn’t see that coming.

#faking it #faking it fanfiction #reamy #oc #update #submission #Her Latest Flame #secretmonkey