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tianshiisdead · 2 years

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Re: your post about cultural appropriation, I have a few things I want to ask/get your take on? Firstly, "the people who are uncomfortable shouldn’t be ignored" I understand this and agree, and at the same time I can't help but think, doesn't that kinda basically mean "Don't do it or you're an asshole" in the end? Because there will always be people uncomfortable with it, especially in the age of the internet where even private gatherings can have pictures posted publicly, etc? Secondly, even if you're invited by Chinese people (in some cases FAMILY members) to wear it in a specific situation, if others know about it and take issue, you'll still be criticized as a disrespectful colonizer (if you're from or look like you're from NA/UK, but sometimes even when you're not), and you can't even say "This was shared with me/I was invited to" because that comes off as a "My Chinese friend" kinda argument. Also in conversations I've had w mainlanders, many seem to feel like they're not allowed to have a say about their own culture in these conversations in international circles, bc many diaspora are trying to make rules about it, and shut them down w 'you don't understand bc you're not affected by racism' (which is not at ALL true, even tho its different) and even tho they dont dismiss the pain of the diaspora experience, they feel very frustrated by diaspora trying to claim authority over their culture. (Which is made worse by many diaspora not even understanding or respecting China themselves) (sidenote this is an experience that seems to be shared by MANY mainland/diaspora relationships, not just China) And I just wonder if this is possibly another instance of a very common thing online these days, where people feel they have to turn their personal feelings about something into a strict idea of morality by which they expect everyone to follow, else they be labeled racist. But just because their feelings and experiences are important and valid does not mean they are universal. So they're probably not a good basis to be making moral judgements by. Idk if I'm making any sense at this point. It's a complicated topic I've had a lot of thoughts about that I kinda wanted to share and talk about so that I can develop my understanding of it, but it's hard. I just wish we could have more civil conversations about it. I understand it's sensitive but I don't think people being hostile about it is going to help anyone, and it's very disheartening. Because shutting down conversation and arguing and harassing and gatekeeping is only creating more division. It's the very opposite of cultivating understanding and unity. And I do think the latter is the only way meaningful progress can really be made.

Hi! This is a pretty complicated issue, I'll try to answer one by one but I might ramble a little.

First, to clarify, I originally made my post because I follow a few prominent diaspora hanfu fashion blogs/channels/tiktoks and some of them have drawn pretty clear lines on what they consider acceptable VS appropriation, yet they get constant non asian people in the comments insulting them and saying things like 'well I think it's totally okay to wear hanfu whenever stop gatekeeping', and that is never okay. To go into an asian person's space where they share parts of their culture and talk over them on what they can or can't do right in that space is incredibly rude, and it's frustrating to see so many people ignoring diaspora voices or wielding 'I heard this from a mainlander' to discredit what a diaspora says. We are no less 'asian' than mainlanders. I've seen too many situations where these creators repeatedly make their stance clear but still get people complaining in their comments and such - it's always preferable to block and move on if you disagree rather than harass someone who's made it clear they don't care to have this conversation (which they are not obligated to have). In general, it costs nothing to not harass marginalized people about what you're allowed or not allowed to do regarding their culture when they've made their stance and frustrations clear.

This got pretty long (sorry) so my answer is under the read more

Disclaimer: everything I say is my opinion formed from my experiences, which doesn't invalidate any other person's feelings on appropriation of their culture. It's a complicated issue and people are allowed to have strong feelings about it. Other people might be stricter or less strict and that's okay, no one can solve the issue with a single post and no one should make themselves the single spokesperson of an issue that affects so many people. This is just my take on it.

First question! In my opinion, it's a situation where 'people's discomfort should be listened to if they voice it' not 'never do anything ever for fear of being seen by someone who would be uncomfortable'. There are obviously plenty of situations where a non Chinese person might be invited to wear hanfu, or a non Chinese person might do research and end up concluding their hanfu/cosplay/whatever is respectful and okay. I'm not here to say you shouldn't just in case someone in the world would be offended, however, you still have to be aware you're a guest partaking in someone else's culture, so if you choose to post it on social media, you should be prepared for potential criticism, keep an open mind, and not become defensive when you get it. That is to say, harassing is never okay, and if there is harassing going on I don't condone that, however a lot of the times (in my experience) it's not harassing, just valid complaints brought up in a not incredibly gentle way, and that shouldn't be discounted as bullying. Messing up (unintentionally, after doing research) doesn't make someone an asshole, but if someone decides to post and face a lot of criticism and they choose to ignore it or lash out against the people criticizing them, that does. In my personal experience, I've for example seen a lot of MDZS cosplay that are generally met with very little pushback, and there's a writer I like who's 100% white and lives in China and writes short and distinctively Chinese fiction, and he has a moderately decent audience and gets pretty much no criticism even from diaspora because he's careful to be respectful. This isn't a failsafe and I'm sure no matter what someone out there will be uncomfortable, but there are plenty of situations where non-Chinese people interact with the culture and wear the culture and get little to no pushback. I don't like the implication that the diaspora community is needlessly volatile and hostile - because from my experience most of it really isn't. And, to be completely honest although the internet and videos have made things less private, very few people end up getting enough attention (especially unintentionally) that would result in a great deal of pushback unless they're being Distinctly Offensive. I've seen quite a few douyin with foreigners in hanfu and they're just like any other hanfu video and they rarely gain that level of traction because most people aren't looking to get upset over things that don't genuinely bother them. I do think it's a situation where you have to make your own judgments, but I stand by that if for whatever reason you interact with Chinese people who make their discomfort clear, their discomfort should be taken seriously and listened to.

Second question. Um, this sounds kind of specific? This might be the case sometimes idk, I've personally never seen this happen (not to say it hasn't just that I haven't seen it), but in that case if you're wearing it in a specific (respectful) situation and you were invited (especially by family) then it's not at all a "My Chinese friend" argument I think. "My Chinese friend" is a bad argument because it's vague and tokenizing and used to talk over other Chinese people, but if you were invited to wear it then that's way more direct, so I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing to establish. However, like you mention later, Chinese people are not a monolith and many don't have great connections with their culture, or see no issue with racism, or have internalized self-hatred etc. that would cause them to enable non-Chinese people in doing offensive things. I really do think this is a case-by-case basis, I can't make any sweeping judgments. Sometimes it's the Chinese family/friend who invited who is in the wrong.

Third question kind of (the part about mainlanders having a say etc.) I do think that again it's a case-by-case basis! In the conversation between a diaspora and a mainlander, respect should be given to both sides (and diaspora who don't understand as much should listen to the mainlander about things the mainlander understands better) however, in my original post, I was more referring to non-Chinese people using what mainlanders say to shut down diaspora. Again, the issue is not that mainlanders shouldn't have a say, it's that their words are used by non-Chinese to discredit diaspora voicing their concerns. I honestly haven't seen that much mainlander-diaspora communication online for obvious reasons but that would be a completely different topic. I do think that it's important to remember even mainlanders aren't monoliths or infallible, and sometimes they can discredit diaspora opinions on topics diaspora have more experience on just because they don't have the same experience. Although people in China certainly face racism and oppression in the global framework of north VS south, and many parts of China have remnants of colonization and imperialism which mean white westerner travelers and expats get better treatment than even the locals or ABC, it's also true that they don't usually face the day to day constant racism diaspora face, which is often what informs discussions on why foreigners wearing hanfu might be considered offensive.

(This part will be about diaspora talking over mainlanders, intracommunity politics, self-hatred, etc. These are my own opinions as a Chinese diaspora and it's a sensitive issue, plus people who are not members of the community please Do Not Make Judgements or try and get involved. Again, this is an intracommunity issue, not an open invitation for non-Chinese people to criticize Chinese people on their Chineseness.) The same goes in the other direction, like you mentioned, a lot of diaspora can also talk over mainlanders or claim authority when they don't have it. There's also a lot of issues with diaspora who hate and look down on themselves and their culture through no fault of their own, it's taught by the society they grow up in, but then they never unlearn that hatred and disdain, and the remnants of that will inform how they treat the people and culture even if they try and advocate themselves as a spokesperson. Obviously, I'm not a huge fan and I think it can be super harmful. It's okay to grow up and realize the culture you rejected is something beautiful, it's okay to slowly rediscover it, but one should always keep in mind that they are rediscovering it, they lack a lot of knowledge because knowing about culture is not innate, and to be open to learn and not yell too loudly about things they don't understand. Culture is so vast, no one person can claim they understand fully and should be taken as the single spokesperson. This disdain and internalized racism show up in diaspora, but also in mainlanders to some extent, because we all live in a post-colonial world with a clear racial hierarchy. That is to say, although it's not useful or reasonable to categorize mainland Han Chinese as oppressed POC, especially when they are the privileged majority within mainland, they nonetheless also face white supremacy that is woven into the culture post-colonization and imperialism (white people. are not at all oppressed. in China. :/)

I also think that in the specific situation of cultural appropriation, personal feelings kind of do matter. It's not a strictly moral thing, messing up doesn't mean moral failure and neither does getting offended or whatever, and I also don't think the discussion around cultural appropriation through wearing hanfu will ever be 'universal' because everyone has such different experiences. In a perfect world without a recent history of colonization and imperialism and western dominance, this wouldn't be nearly as big of an issue. The point is that it's not universal, you can only try your best to be respectful but understand there are limits and that if you post for a lot of people to see a lot of people will have different thoughts, and to try and listen to those thoughts the best you can. None of this is a moral issue, just one facet of a larger societal one informed by history and power dynamics, and no one person is responsible for any of it, but it's important to be educated and sensitive.

But yeah! It's definitely a complicated issue, your ask made sense don't worry lol I'm sorry I couldn't give that many definitive answers and so much of it came down to 'depends on the situation' and 'it can vary from person to person'. Like with all these sorts of issues, it can be intensely personal to people because this sort of racism Is very personal. for lack of better words. it's not a concrete thing, the reason it's harmful at all is that it can hurt people, just because of the context of racism and such, and that means it will vary from person to person. Sorry idk if that made any sense but kjlfdhg I think harassment and dogpiling and rudeness is never okay, but a clear line should be drawn between harassment and a Great Deal of People voicing their criticism. I agree that there should be civil conversations about it, but tbh... I don't think any progress will be made regarding this Because it's such a complicated issue with so many diverse voices and experiences that should be accounted for and not asked to conform, it's not at all a solidly moral issue. There's no rulebook for it! All cultures are different too, I can only speak on my thoughts on hanfu and qipao and such, however, other garments from other cultures may have different purposes or ideas behind them and that's not something for me to comment on, I can only listen and respect. I think the only way progress can be made, is for society to progress regarding racism and such built into the system, and the post-colonial state of the world. Foreigners in hanfu and appropriation stuff, this is all just manifestations of the greater systemic issues, and it can only be solved through the solving of the greater systemic issues.

Thank you for the ask! i enjoy talking about these things :3

#anon #ask #cultural appropriation #hanfu #long post #thoughts and stuff

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away, another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #begin again

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 2 years

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I'm gonna go on a bit of a tangent real quick because I've had five hours of sleep and feel sleep deprived after staying up into the AM working on an art piece for my main shit.

I wish people, in general, reblogged or retweeted stuff more than they liked it. I started on Tumblr (After DA) with my main blog (which I'm not sharing here) years ago, like early 2010s. Obviously, on DA there's no option to share someone's art. Either people find it or they don't kind of deal and you had to include keywords that you wanted to be related to it.

So I was ecstatic when I got to Tumblr and realized I could reblog, comment, and share to my hearts content while also making art. Reblogging was my priority, I wanted to share anything I thought was cool or funny, and if it was enough, then I'd like it. I always had a reblog > like mentality just because I thought "why shouldn't I share this, this is great!"

And it's been so weird, seeing things go from more even 250 reblogs to 300-350 likes, to just maybe 25 reblogs and 250 likes or some stuff like that.

Don't get me wrong, likes are still great! Likes are still wonderful! They just... don't really do much in way of spreading it.

Even on Twitter, where likes actually do impact the performance of a tweet, its negligible compared to a retweet. I've literally seen people get a couple likes on stuff and nothing else, myself included, and when you self-reblog or retweet there's always that one asshole that goes "stop retweeting your stuff, you look desperate". Like, you weren't gonna reblog/retweet it, so I'm gonna do it myself

And this isn't a "if you don't reblog, I fucking hate you" thing. It's just sort of disheartening to spend hours, even days, onto stuff and get like 10 likes with no sharing. Like I said, the likes are great! They let me know that people, well, like my stuff. But, I also feel.. idk, that they don't mean as much as people think???

I used to get so excited when people liked my stuff on DA because it was curated and culminated in a favorites list full of things that person liked, and that just so happened to include my stuff! And then people just started going into most recent and carpetbomb liked everything. It wasn't because they liked my stuff, it wasn't because they were interested in it, it was an attempt to probably get some people favorited in a show of "I support you". But it felt hollow, if that makes sense.

And I won't lie and say that I haven't caught myself doing the same thing, liking and not reblogging. But, I also have three different blogs! A main art one, this one, and one specifically for reblogging! Twitter? I try to retweet art rather than like it alone, and if I forget? Well, I go back and retweet them once I catch myself.

Look, this is a very long-winded way of saying: Likes are great, but without reblogs and retweets, things get lost. Quickly. If you want to support art or stories you like and feel comfortable enough (I know some people lurk, but that's a different topic), reblog it! Retweet it!

What's stopping you? The fear of being 'cringe'? I literally made FNAF vore stuff back in the day, still might! Not wanting to put the thing you like on people's timelines? Why not?! If you like it, I don't understand why you wouldn't gush and share with friends! I literally was just talking to one about how hype I was for a fanfic to drop another chapter! She's interested in it *because* I was talking about it!

Idk, might delete this later, but I just. Idk, I'm frustrated and exasperated. And I've been typing this so long, hunger has finally registered through my groggy brain, so ciao

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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 years

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another prompt saga

April 8th: Talk about friendship. How important are friends to you? Do you find it hard to make and maintain friendships? Are your friends generally supportive? Is there anything about having friends that confuses you?

another big question for me to go on plenty of tangents lol

well i haven't often had friends Really, there's like, being amicable with classmates, being friends with people While We're At School Together, being friendly acquaintances lmfao, or like, the occasional "yeah ig we're sort of friends, not exactly very close tho" lol and then rarely where yeah i'd call someone a close friend, although naturally, it's not like i completely discount those other, less close relationships. and, even more so, not like overall i'm like "oh friendship? yeah that's pretty frivolous and unimportant and it's just something mildly entertaining vs the Real Shit & True Emotional Support & Love of your biological family and romantic soulmate" lol, Friends Are Important and it's entirely serious 2 me

also natch i Do find it hard to make and maintain friendships lol. goes back to like, preschool and being around a bunch of age peers regularly for the first time, where my "best friend" defaulted to this one person who sought out interacting with me when i was otherwise doing my own thing during preschool recess, and i was pretty enthused about getting invited to a bday party one kid invited a bunch of us to, because that was like, a Friend thing, and a fun social thing, and i was included.....that i Do remember just feeling like, socially, everyone else was playing a game i didn't know the rules to and so couldn't expect to participate and, furthermore, i ought to stay out of the way of whatever everyone else was doing, where i Did often choose to do stuff by myself, but it's like, you know, the way "autistic" is even used figuratively (which. i have a lot of disdain for) because it's like oh the defining thing really is that telltale "doesn't want to interact with other people or form relationships, probably because also they have no feelings / normal and intrinsic qualities of Humanity" but it's like, if you pay any attention or god forbid ask autistic people about their own experiences, sure everyone has their own varying social approach and anyone might not always be raring to be the center of the party or Not want to do their own thing, but it's not that oh all autistic people aren't interested in social connection, but that like even when you are a small child it's like, oh all these other kids are interacting in this way that isn't really my social style and that shuts me out, and/or attempting to interact with people results in this even subtle, quiet rejection / exclusion that can be picked up on. i wasn't making friends and was often keeping to myself / keeping my head down as it were, but it wasn't because i didn't want to have friends or socialize. my mom was insistent i was a Shy Child lmao and i'd always argue that i wasn't Really, without further explanation though lmao, but it's like, again that i felt that sort of emergent exclusion, and there wasn't any space to interact much on my terms at all, and like, yeah i often stayed quiet / didn't want to mingle with other kids / if i was in a Situation i wanted to know the How To of navigating it / what to expect

being friends with people at school was fine, except the drawbacks of stuff like "we're only interacting at school, rarely hanging out outside of that" & "someone in the same grade is in a diff class in elementary school so we just never see each other now" & "for some reason that 2nd grade teacher made a whole giant Example out of me and a friend, god forbid, not paying attention or whatever the fuck, so now i feel like we can't interact at all anymore" & "changing schools entirely between elementary / middle / college" & "not being in school" lmao similar to work friends too, we're At Work, might not see each other outside of that, might change jobs & stop seeing each other, & still overall rare, b/c the Preschool Experience never Really stopped imo, had different versions of it even into college and like, being at jobs with other adults lmao, socializing is still Like That, came up with the Je Ne Hate Quoi where like, people kind of just Know to exclude you / consider you an exception to whatever other social stuff is going on.

and then like, the difficulties even when socializing / interactions Are happening, where like, it's always funny like. i'm very Verbose / Chatty and very opinionated but like, this will surprise people, that i Talk actually and have a ton of takes, b/c i was keeping to myself / not sharing that with them and so it's like well, that must of course be the realest version of me, no way i was filtering myself, i just must have Not Wanted to talk, and/or had nothing to say & hence no thoughts or feelings i might wanna share lol, of course....and tbh like, it sure Can be true that i don't wanna talk lmao like. i wanna talk About Stuff that isn't really "personal" generally, which can be like, yeah i wanna talk about this book, or about birds, or about this trivia topic, or whatever, whereas idk so much how to do like small talk about your day or otherwise share Casual things about Yourself, like, idk, being aware my interests are things about Myself but also aware that it's Weird / wasn't the kind of stuff you were supposed to talk about, and i felt that things about my life were otherwise Not The Right Stuff, or too boring (never hanging out, not doing much except being at home reading / doing shit by myself or w/siblings) or too Unfun (able to pick up the sense that At Home Shittiness was a private matter lol......) and it'd be like, idk what to say, things about myself don't seem to fit..........but also it can be that i do not enjoy the Vibe of an interaction lmfaoooo like, i truly do not want to talk to you people. like that i can sometimes vibe with someone inebriated people better lmfao because then, idk, they have some sense of humor and can muster some enthusiasm for anything, but also i'm not really a fan of knowing that someone isn't sober lmfao like. ppl will be like "omg were you drunk" like no, that was just my personality, whereas i am not Heartened to know other ppl Will have to have been drunk to get on my level, for example, don't understand when people cannot muster being even a little silly. it's goofaround hours. but then you have like, being around a bunch of cishet people when they're drunk, and their humor is as nonexistent and boring as ever but they're even louder / more insistent about it, nightmare. and, yknow, just people talking and i'm like "i'm not interested in this at all, whether re: conversational Style or Subject, i would not want to participate" and times when it's like. i know if i was gonna chime in with what i Would say you would not be able to handle me here lmfaoooo so. i truly would prefer examining the wall and thinking about my own shit or texting with someone i do like talking with

but that yknow, in groups / conversations i would be at least someone interested in, i can still be like, idk, Hesitant To Talk b/c of all the instances you've been taught like oh you're socializing Wrong and everyone hated that, sorta like the post about making a comment about salsa that brings the gc to a halt and you're wondering how you fucked up and if salsa killed someone's parents and forgot or whatever, i've been Disheartened re: hanging out when it's like, well, nice to be included, but i'm a friendship third wheel here, not being included in the entire convo and nobody misses it, there's been instances where it's like, two people talking, i chime in, i am completely ignored multiple times, this is frustrating lmao. or there's been times i've tried to put myself out there in a way, like yeah sure i'll hang out with this group, but also i'm anxious and it's like, if people are doing homework i'm also bringing this thing i'm working on as this parallel task, only to find out down the line like people then regarded you as a joke or something b/c it was Rude or Wrong when you know, actually that was you reading some weird shit that didn't exist into the situation, and just like, idk it's wild how people will have like "graciously" declined to express something to your face, and you either can pick up on shit at the time but not be able to say anything which just reads to people like "oh they didn't notice this / that means you can push it a little further next time even" or like, figure out later that something that seemed positive or decent actually ft. people not liking you / not wanting to include you Yet Again, and as a bonus you're left with you know, having to always worry about if people Seemingly being amicable & accepting is actually them wishing you weren't there or solidifying some Interpretations of you that they're then gonna Talk About or Act On behind the scenes, like, beautiful thank you, always very touching, so glad you were so Considerate of someone's feelings and Nice about this where it just ends up being this whole letdown / feeling like even more of a rejection if there was this weird like stringing along lmao like. can allistic people be normal for five minutes

anyways and tied to that sort of, it's also like, simultaneously Cagey About Things and always worried about like, i could tell this person this thing and maybe it'd be Incorrect for the interaction and they won't care, whether because it's too mundane and boring a thing about you or because it's too #Real, i think i glimpsed something a month or so ago about like "do other autistic people have trouble where like, you can be friends with someone a long time but not get particular Close to them" or whatever lol, where like, well i have to hold everyone at arm's length and often Then Some because there's just matter of fact stuff about me that i nonetheless think i can't or shouldn't share, if i talked about something it might be out of the blue b/c i just was hardly confiding in people about it, or it's boring, or it's like, i don't actually feel like i'm close enough with this person that saying this isn't gonna be like "whoa overshare!! i just feel awkward & weird!" lmfao like. there were people i hung out with in person the year i lived out of my car and i did not mention this at all to them / kept it a secret b/c it's like, not out of like ohh this is a secret b/c No One Can Know, some people Could know lmao (shoutout to the person i Did confide in about these problems and who talked with me at what must've been like 3am in that timezone when i was like "well the rich people around here made sure to get cops to harass an unhoused person, e.g. me, would you believe it, it sucked" lmfao) it's that i knew idk, it would be pointless, they'd just feel weird about it and switch into that "for some reason, this is being Nice" where everyone will go into full Putting On A Front mode to be Polite like, that really sucks actually lmao could you Not. but it's like, idk, all this stuff where it's like "this thing about me / my life would be too Boring or too Awkward or Depressing or Etc Etc" turns out to be isolating / alienating b/c like, of course it would be. and idk nobody i ever made friends with in person i was Confiding in, not a ton of them re: me either, because you know. being cagey and wary, on top of like ohhh this person is Standoffish if they're hesitant to interact with people generally or do their own thing or i don't think they're socializing Right / have incorrectly inferred their feelings/motivations/intentions or whatever

and furthermore on that lmao it's also like, again, while i'm Verbose & Opinionated people will think i'm quiet & have no takes to provide because it's also like, even when it comes to stuff i sure feel i Could talk freely about, it's like, if i have a different opinion here will that just be a conversational Interruption ruining things for the real participants, probably nobody wants to hear me talk about this Subject, probably nobody wants to / would let me talk about it at much length without interrupting, even Online lmao i can be just going all out in terms of [how much i can talk about something] and while people can be Into that at that time it's like, people aren't into that beyond that one back and forth on one day, shoutout when people do enjoy the extensive discussing and/or have patience for it other times lol.

then supposing i Am talking to people lmao it's like, idk i'm an acquired taste or what have you, like, on top of the Talking A Ton it's like, the being opinionated and argumentative and sometimes pedantic or whatever on top of being irritable, could stand to be a bit more patient lmao, The Hater Friend to use the figure of speech lmao i have hardly been in a Group to be The [Any] Friend lol, also if my sense of humor doesn't fit it's like well how am i supposed to be silly, if being sometimes Enthused doesn't fit, again kinda an issue......have described myself as A Bit Much, humorously, but already not doing that as Much b/c it's like, i think i'm still too much like considering other people's opinions too "objective" here when like, first of all that's never accurate lmao, second of all i can easily forget that idk, i can at least in theory expect people to just regularly Like me and Enjoy interacting with me lol so. an acquired taste few can sample..........like hey even if other people don't vibe with me, it can just as much be the case that i'm not vibing with other people, don't worry lmao. and yknow, kinda parallel to Masking to seem acceptable in any casual social situation it's like, if i feel i'm suppressing my whole personality here / putting up a front / like i have to Get Through what should be a friendly interaction rather than be able to enjoy it myself, it's not exactly that rewarding. and plenty of times it's like, i like to be around people, but it can be strangers, i don't feel like "oh i wanna go out to eat / see a movie / go to this event, but if i can't get any friends to go, guess i can't!" like get out of the way i'm readily doing shit alone, it can even feel Better that way if otherwise it's like, now this occasion is about performing peak Agreeability for this other person/people, and like, not like i have ever been like "yes i have people i can readily ask to hang out and they'll be like Ya" anyways lol so. used to operating solo, where you can't be like "aha this is because this person has no Human Interest in Human Connection" when it's like. well it was never all up to me was it

well and so also it helped when i was 14 and able to be Online consistently, vs at home lmao. time for online friendship, which i don't think is like, oh that's not Real, like what sorry have you never known about people who have Remote friendships before, phones & letters & telegrams and also [nowadays when many ppl are Remote even if they usually lived near enough to hang out with] where it's like, you have this different format for socializing that can sure play out differently than Real Time, In Person interactions, and ever since i'll be posting mostly to myself lmfao but able to thusly talk about Interests and like, people will come along who want to talk more about it, then we do. i suppose also it can sure help that i'll draw (and Only draw, lol) for said interests, although tbh i think most of the time it's the extensive text posts that do it? really and great litmus test or whatever lmfao like, well already this person must not hate the verbosity. and then you can end up vibing with these people further, or not, but it's like, again, there's this chance for From The Start like, oh this person Likes that i have this niche interest, they like &/or don't mind talking A Lot about it lmao, vs in person introductions where that can sure happen but it's like, that's gonna be chance & spontaneous, whereas ppl might have the opportunity to Seek Out this interaction / content of yours......even online though, i'm still like, not as inclined to reach out or make the first interaction move or whatever lmao so. and then it's like, people make galaxy brain remarks like "ohh people who are very Online don't have friends, irl, they aren't Personable, irl," like yes congratulations i'm autistic and i don't have many In Person friends generally, sometimes maybe not any, don't really know where people think they'll land their argument here. like, follow it through, are you just calling people losers. is it "social media makes peopel Not social" like nobody is Doing Anything when they're online or everyone is embracing strangers and having heart to hearts every weekday morning with whoever is nearby if only they weren't on twitter? plus the fact that like, if i don't have access to people i interact with online, that doesn't like, force me to become neurotypical so that i then have a thriving in person social circle, it just means i'm more isolated? meanwhile, turns out it helps a lot if it's like, yeah i can Expect to interact with people

and then still like, all the time it might be like i still can feel Confused as it were about How To Talk To People lmfao like. there's not much "Just Be Yourself" when being yourself has meant filtering yourself, actually, and being v self conscious about trying (and often failing) to appeal to other people (which, then if you do succeed, it's like oops this person likes me but if i've been putting up a front the whole time, not super Validating) and not exactly a ton of practice getting to do Otherwise, and it can again be like. is this too boring to talk about, or just somewhat arbitrarily like "oh i'd better Not talk / say whatever" for no real reason lmfao, i Can just get like. Real Time Chatty as it were, but it's difficult actually lmfao like i need a lot of momentum, and it's easy for that to be Not the case.......and just like, again that it's easy to forget you don't have to be in "nobody wants to hear you talk" mode, or think like, okay, i can't just say anything, i have to say something Good, aka of interest or funny or whatever lmao but then it's like well i guess i Can just say anything. don't much know how to do that tho

(also, sidenote from "wtf is thinking being friends w/someone online is faker than when you're friends with someone sort of from being in the same building every weekday, what is the conclusion of 'what a loser geek whatever if you care about connecting Online who can't be popular Offline'" where it's always funny when someone is also like "wow even in person Fandom is, like social media, something that only people who suck at socializing Normally are into" lmfao like. not very relevant b/c nobody wants to really be in a broader fanbase rather than find particular kindred spirits through it, and who actually wants to go to comic con or whatever, sounds like a nightmare, but it's still such a faux analytical perspective lmfao like, again, first of all, what's the Conclusion to your argument here? and secondly honestly like. all versions of Small Talk are kinda gonna be bullshit, even amongst say, nt people, there's nothing Universal, and people can certainly be inconsiderate / preclude any genuine connection via what they might consider to be this neutral part of the ritual, and yknow, i find it kinda exhausting like it's peak Time To Mask and then i'm hardly in the mood to Really talk further, like yknow what. idk i'd be annoyed if someone demanded i Correctly Complete some sort of fandom reference by way of greeting, but i'm also annoyed when someone demands i Correctly Complete whatever maneuvers you're supposed to do with a rhetorical "how are you :)" lmfao like. you're a cringe nerd in the rigid social ritual of pleasantries fandom)

anyways and uhh yeah i also yknow, hashtag alana beck, it's like, glad to pretend Friendly Acquaintances makes sense, i guess it can, but it's great when it's like, oh i Don't have to only expect to be really peripheral in people's lives, or to only be friends with people i don't feel like i vibe with That much or also talk to that much about anything, when i can definitely feel like Yes this person is a Friend, no "are they actually closer to an acquaintance at this point" disclaimers needed, again, taking it back to the fact that friendship sure is Significant to me and when i have it that's v important thanks

so it's like uhhhh yeah difficult to make friends, don't have general appeal or whatever lol, ppl aren't on my wavelength or i'm not on theirs, hard to talk to people even though it's not because i don't/can't talk plenty lmfao.......and re: being Supportive it's like well, i don't really tell people In Person i'm autistic but naturally if you follow me Online here i am talking about it lol, and not like anyone who already knew me & was friends with me was like "oh nvm don't like interacting with you now" and i also gotta mention the like Handshake Lgbtq lifehack, where plenty of times it can be like, oh if we vibe on That wavelength it can be easier to befriend people, and/or that people will at least be more like, amicable / supportive based on Knowing you're handshake on that lol. b/c really it's like, i'd also like to just be allowed to talk and/or simply be around people even if we are not Personal Friends, aka that you can expect to be treated decently with some basic respect / consideration and like you're generally allowed to exist and be present and interact with people where you're not only guaranteed to Not be punished / excluded for it if someone's your individual friend and allows you to be here, so. once again it's like, can allistic ppl be normal for 5 min

#still behind on this naturally lmao but when it's now 1am and i've chosen to do a whole essay #it's like whew time to make dark dinner for now #30daysofautismacceptance #2021

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primatechnosynthpop · 4 years

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Ok so the idea is in my mind now thanks to what my classmates were posting about on the myinfo discussion boards earlier, and I know that nobody here cares about this, but I need to gather my thoughts here. So here's an outline for what I think would happen in a Da Vinci Code/ Black Echo crossover

It starts with Langdon being involved in a high-profile documentary about the grail and the priory that's being filmed in Hollywood. Then a bunch of people involved in the documentary start being murdered, and Bosch is assigned to the case

They meet at the crime scene for one of the murders; Langdon is shaken up because the people working on the documentary with him were people he'd worked with before and gotten along with, and he's trying not to show how shaken he is and play himself off as cool, but Bosch sees right through him and recognizes his distraught emotional state. He's sympathetic, but he does have a job to do here... it's time to ask this guy some questions

HB: Professor Langdon, right? I'm officer Bosch. I have a few questions for you.

RL: Bosch... that's an interesting name

HB: Like the painter, yes. You wouldn't be the first to point it out, believe me.

RL: I've done many lectures on the religious symbolism in that man's paintings. Tell me, officer, how familiar with his work are you?

HB: Not very. Now, Mr. Langdon--

RL: You can call me Robert if you want.

HB: ...Mr. Langdon, what kind of relationship did you have with the victim?

...You get the picture; they don't get along very well at first. Bosch thinks Langdon is too self-obsessed and show-offy, while Langdon thinks Bosch is too grim and doesn't approve of his smoking habit

But since Bosch is a devoted and hardworking detective, he puts aside his mild annoyance with Langdon and does his best to solve the case. Problem is, Langdon clearly knows something about the case that he's refusing to tell anyone. *sonic voice* That's no good!

Bosch confronts Langdon about this in private, very angry... maybe cue a wall slam except that Bosch is shorter than Langdon so it does maybe look just a little bit silly. But more importantly a little bit homoerotic in an angry and repressed kinda way

After a bit of arguing and a very thorough check of the room they're in to make sure nobody is watching or listening in, Langdon confides to Bosch about the Grail and his experiences with it

Bosch is skeptical, but he's no stranger to tangled webs of dark secrets, so his reaction to all this is less "wow!!" and more "shit. Really? Fuck. Okay... huh. I need a drink." So Langdon pours him a drink, they agree to team up to collaborate on solving the case, and this is bonding moment #1 in which their barriers start to crack just a little bit

But of course Bosch, a decent guy at heart who cares about people's lives, isn't gonna let some random symbologist get too wrapped up in what's clearly a dangerous case. So after he and Langdon figure out together where the killer might be hiding out, Bosch goes to the location alone--armed and ready, but alone nonetheless

It goes bad!

Meanwhile, Langdon figures out by talking to some of the other cops where Bosch has taken off to. He gets there just in time to see the cloud of dust as the killer gets away, leaving a badly injured Bosch lying on the ground. Probably in some dark alleyway or dingy apartment or something idk. Very dark and very dramatic

Shifting in and out of consciousness in the backseat as Langdon drives him to a hospital, Bosch starts having a PTSD flashback nightmare. There's nothing Langdon can really do to help him out there, and he feels bad about it

Flash forward a couple days. We get bonding moment #2 as Langdon scolds a recovering Bosch for being so reckless

RL: I mean, you could have been killed!

HB: That's part of my job. Always has been.

RL: But still--

HB: I'm not like you, remember? You may have gotten involved in some dangerous situations before, but at the end of the day, you're still a civilian. It's my job to protect you.

RL: How would you dying help us get to the bottom of this case? If you want to help me, then stay alive and work with me.

HB: Fine. So, did you just come here to yell at me?

RL: Actually, that's not the only reason. I figured something out about the case... something that I think can help us

(This probably wouldn't be the exact dialogue but you get the gist)

Also Langdon sees Bosch's tattoo and if he asks about it then Bosch definitely does not answer. But when he gets home Langdon researches rat imagery and symbolism and eventually figures out, if not the connection to the war, at least that this dude has probably been through some tough times

They also each individually make the realization that Bosch having a rat tattoo + Langdon having a mickey mouse wristwatch is kind of an interesting coincidence... but when Langdon brings it up Bosch gets kinda snappy with him because, believe me, it's really not even remotely close to the same thing

So they get back to work on the case, but as soon as Bosch is back on his feet he retreats back into his shell, which disheartens Langdon somewhat for reasons that he can't pinpoint. (Hint: it's that Langdon was beginning to recognize the soft heart buried beneath Bosch's rough exterior, and guess that he must have had a pretty rough life, and on some subconscious level he was beginning to drift toward the "I can fix him!" mentality)

Still, they've got a job to do. They spend a few days, maybe a week tracking down the killer, during which we get a couple more small bonding moments during which Bosch demonstrates his kind and caring side, and Langdon starts spending maybe a little longer than necessary staring at him when he's not looking. Bosch wonders when he stopped finding Langdon's tendency for sharing information annoying and started to like the sound of his voice. But neither of them are at a stage where they're gonna be like "so basically I have ptsd and claustrophobia because of my traumatic backstory" or anything

At some point, though (maybe when he's slightly drunk) Bosch makes a gruff remark in passing about having been betrayed before, and Langdon replies that he's been betrayed too, by a close friend. They kind of raise their eyebrows at each other, an unspoken realization that they're connected by more bonds than expected, and they clink their glasses together

So the killer's hideout involves crawling through a small enclosed space and they both know this in advance and the plan they come up with is "one of us goes in while the other waits outside and stands guard" (the way the killer's lair is set up would make this a good plan. I'm not gonna come up with all the details right now, because if I could do that, then I'd become a mystery novelist) but they haven't laid out who'll be going in the small enclosed space and they're both secretly counting on the other doing it

Then they get there and it's like. Hmm. Oops! Neither of them want to go in because they both have the same psychological issues

An argument ensues, but they're less trying to convince each other to go in the small enclosed space and more frustrated at the other for keeping secrets. Eventually Langdon agrees to be the one to go in because by now he's pieced together that Bosch is a vet and that his trauma is therefore probably a lot "worse" (not that those things are really quantifiable)

Bosch is super grateful but also feels terrible, like it's his fault for being too weak, and promises Langdon to make it up for him later--"So be sure to stay alive for me, okay, Robert?"

RL: Wait, did you just call me by my first name? I think that's the first time I've heard you say it.

HB: Hey, what can I say? You've grown on me.

RL: Heh. You... you've grown on me, too, Harry.

HB: Robert..... good luck in there.

They sort of smile and nod at each other, solemn and melancholy (and repressed). And then Langdon goes in and does the thing but of course it's some kind of a trap and he gets stuck in the small enclosed space and Bosch hears him getting attacked in there and hey, Bosch can't magically overcome his severe war trauma but in that moment his brain just kinda turns off and he's able to power through it long enough to go in and get Langdon out safely

They're both very shaken from all this but now they've got the killer out in the open so it's time for the final showdown. Working together, they elaborately lure the killer into confessing to the murders of the people working on the Grail documentary... those people knew too much, they couldn't be allowed to keep living. Naturally, Bosch is wearing a wire that's picking all this up and recording it

But then the killer finishes with "and you, the symbologist who knows the true location of the Grail... you can't be allowed to live either!" and before either of them can react he shoots Langdon! This makes Bosch extremely angry and he immediately shoots the killer like five consecutive times in the chest

Turns out Langdon's alive, the bullet just missed his heart or lungs or whatever, and he's lying on the ground in shock from getting shot staring up at Bosch and is like "...you killed him...?"

HB: Oh, right, I almost forgot... you've never killed someone before, have you?

RL: No, although I've been acquainted with more murders than I would like...

HB: Well, here's one more murderer you're acquainted with, then. Come on, let's go

Hospital time redux ft. congratulating each other on solving the case and a whole lot going unsaid between them. They both agree that they ended up making a decent team in the end...

In a quiet moment when he thinks Langdon is asleep, Bosch starts reminiscing out loud about his childhood, his time in the war, all the blood he's seen spilled and spilled himself both as a veteran and a detective. Of course Langdon was actually awake to hear all that, and after a long moment of silence he starts talking quietly about falling down a well as a child, as well as some of the scarier moments in his past adventures and how those have messed him up a little

RL: Of course, what I've been through is nothing compared to you... I mean, you, you're amazing. I can't believe I ever judged you for having a cold exterior.

HB: I wouldn't call myself amazing. More like, a poor bastard doing his best to keep his head afloat.

RL: No, no, that's... that's why you're amazing. The fact that you are where you are now.

HB: What, in a hospital at the bedside of a symbology professor who's lucky to be alive after solving an elaborate murder case?

RL: Hey, it's not my first rodeo.

HB: Mine neither. (Heh...) maybe we should start a club.

At the end they say goodbye to each other and they like shake hands or something but they're still repressed so they just go their separate ways and don't see each other again

But MAYBE a few months or years down the line Bosch eventually leaves the police force (either because he wisens up and realizes that acab, or because he acts up too much and gets fired) and can no longer afford to live in LA so he moves to a different part of the country and by pure coincidence it ends up being where Langdon lives. And he finds out when he sees an ad for one of Langdon's lectures, and he attends and Langdon spots him in the crowd and he sort of visibly stiffens and then softens. You can figure out where things go from there

(I actually don't know where exactly things would go from there but maybe, someday, eventually they kiss?)

#this is silly and about a topic nobody cares about i know but the idea is FIRMLY IN my head #and i will go more crazy if i don't post about it than if i do #also confession time i haven't read very far into the black echo yet and ive already forgotten several details of the da vinci code #after reading it like last month so idk if this is even very in character but i did my best.#point is i think this idea is fun and i might use it for my creative project if i can manage to adapt it into something 5-10 pages in lengt

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jincherie · 5 years

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Joining a network might help boost readers. Idk why you feel the latest chapter for fox rain flopped? It's so good and it was worth all the wait. Thank you for for such a good read

I know this ask is from a while back but I can't stop thinking about it, so I may as well answer.

Let me first just say I'd rather not join another network, not in this climate at least lol. Also, the times in the past when I have been in a lot of networks did not really affect the amount of notes or reception my works received. It might make a difference for others, but I never observed any for me. So there's that!

But back to the main point, when I say something flopped,, it's never really in terms of quality. Everything I post is at a standard I am at least satisfied with if not proud of. What I say it in terms of is reception and how well received it is.

I said,, and can probably still say, that chapter four of fox rain flopped for me. Because it took me months to get to and finish, it's over 13 thousand words, and at the time of writing this in the month since it has been posted, it has garnered a total 294 notes. If you'd like me to put that in perspective, that's about 1.7% of my total following that has visibly interacted with that post.

I don't care for notes as a clout thing, but I do use them as a measure of satisfaction and how many of you read as well as enjoyed the chapter. And this? Is absolutely disheartening. I understand fox rain isn't for everyone, I'm not saying everyone has to like or read it, but I'm trying to explain my point of view here. It makes sense that if you enjoy something, you press the heart to indicate that you liked it. If you really liked it, then you'll probably go as far as to share it and reblog. So when I see something of mine that has so little interaction, the first conclusion I come to is that you as my reader base, didn't like it or didn't think it was as good as I did.

The dissonance of such a thought when you yourself perceived the post to be of a quality you're at least happy with is a little jarring. It still bums me out a little bit, and often I can't help but take it personally when I see that others can post similar things and get much better reception. But I guess it is what it is and apart from continuing to write and put things out there because I enjoy it, and attempting not to pay attention to things like that, there's not much I can do.

Having said that, even with so little interaction on the post I am incredibly fortunate and grateful to have a fair amount of readers like yourself who take the time to send me an ask and tell me you liked it. I really can't put into words how much I appreciate that, even if I don't get to answering all of the things I receive. Thank you, because I think it would be really overwhelmingly disheartening if I didn't have that to balance it out. I appreciate it more than you know :) 💕💖💗

So, yeah. That's why lol. Thank you for reading it though, and for letting me know you enjoyed it!!

#fox rain #HUH... been contemplating answering this for a while #the time felt right lol #ask #anon #cherrie chats #just an explanation ig #for whoever was wondering

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

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Roy has a girlfriend and she and Riza dont get along very well, she gets jealous of how close Roy and Riza are and tells him to choose between them. Roy doesnt even need to think to answer.

(hey i’m back to answering asks i probably should’ve answered weeks ago whoops)

thank you for this ask anon!! it’s an idea i’ve kinda always wanted to tackle but kept forgetting about lmao also this has spiralled out of control and will be a multi-chapter fic i just finished the first one tonight and there will probably be three (maybe idk it might grow more arms and legs who knows at this point)

fic title: “closer” from a song by travis

rated: t | words: 3479

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

ao3 | ffnet

A knock sounded at the office door and Riza Hawkeye knewinstantly who it would be. Glancing at the clock confirmed her suspicions, andshe would have groaned if she wasn’t in such a professional environment. Plus,the Colonel was in earshot and she wouldn’t humiliate herself like that.

“Come in,” he called, not looking up from his paperwork.Apparently, he had no idea who it could be. Riza didn’t know why. Their visitorwas persistent and clingy. She arrived around this time every day, greeting himso they could both walk home together.

Riza was no stranger to jealousy, however the last time she’dexperienced it was when she was merely a child. She’d been jealous of Roybecause he’d gotten her father’s attention while she’d been left by thewayside, forgotten about once more. In hindsight, she was glad she’d been leftto her own devices. Her father was insufferable, holding her to an impossiblyhigh standard which made the fallout even worse when she inevitably fell short.Being unable to perform alchemy – his alchemy – was the last straw.After all the pressure, the tears, and the yelling, he gave up on her completely.A year later, the apprentices began to roll in, none lasting longer than a fewdays.

But Roy… He’d managed, somehow. Riza never asked because shedidn’t want to taint their conversations with the mentions of her father. RoyMustang had lit up her dark childhood with a spark of friendship and she wasloath to ruin it with her father’s darkness.

So yes, she’d been jealous once before. It wasn’t hard tosee why.

But this… They were co-workers. Sure, they’d spent most oftheir formative years together. He’d become her closest friend, her confidantin her time of need, and a great pillar of support for Riza.

Eventually, he’d become her lover.

But that all ended after Ishval. The reasons were mutual, buton nights when she felt loneliest, she would long for his touch, his deep voicewhispering in her ear, his lips on her.

It made things… difficult. Especially now.

So, it was natural to feel disheartened when his attentionwas being diverted away, she told herself, especially after they’d beentogether for so long.

And as Eve Nesbit walked through the door with her usual toosweet smile, Riza couldn’t help but feel that little niggle of jealousy in thepit of her stomach.

Only because Eve got to be with Roy in the way Riza sodesperately wanted to but couldn’t.

Damn her and her absurd emotions. If she could glare atherself for being ridiculous then she would. It was immature and none of herbusiness. He was her boss, for goodness sake. Nothing more. She was happy thathe’d met someone. She was.

Riza didn’t miss the glare Eve shot her way though, when sherealised the office was empty. The rest of the team had left for the day, Havocbeing the last one to go who left ten minutes ago. Apparently, Eve was jealousthat they worked and spent so much time together.

Riza genuinely couldn’t understand women like that.

She’d had her fair share of it. The glares and whispers shegotten from other women as she walked one step behind the Colonel.

“Why does he want to spend so much time with her?”

“What does he even see in her?”

“Maybe they don’t just work together, if you get what I mean,”followed by a catty laugh.

Jesus Christ, women, just let me live, Riza would oftenthink to herself with a roll of her eyes.

She’d heard it all. If anything, her skin was bulletproof.Of course, he was oblivious. He was the shining star who played up his part. Rizadidn’t blame him. It had all been part of their plan to keep up appearanceswhile they infiltrated the military from within, but even now after the PromisedDay, it still happened. He still had a part to play to get to the top, afterall. His work on the Promised Day put him in great standing, but that was onemilestone down. They still had a handful left to go.

“Roy,” Eve crooned in greeting, hurrying up to his desk.Riza almost frowned at the inappropriateness of it all. A civilian shouldn’t evenbe in the building anyway. However, knowing the Colonel, he’d probably charmed someoneinto getting his own way.

Or Eve had snappily asked to speak to some young officer’ssuperior for not letting her in right away.

Yeah, that was more likely.

“Hey, Eve,” he perked up, shooting her a quick grin. He rosefrom his chair and Riza had to force herself not to gag at the very obvious wayEve grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, kissing him more passionately thanwas necessary. They’d only been dating a few weeks. Even Roy was caught offguard, one hand flailing to the side at the unexpected attention. The woman wasclearly in the honeymoon period already.

Eve was a petite woman. Even in her massive and expensivebrand heels, she only just met Roy’s height. Her hair was cut short in a bob,catching the light perfectly. Every time she moved every hair fell back intoplace effortlessly. Her makeup was expertly done, not a line or an eyelash outof place. Her smart, black, suit jacket and skirt screamed wealth, the fabricshining in the fluorescent lights of the office. In fact, her whole demeanourand attitude exuded that fact that she thought she was better than everyone inthe room.

Riza wondered just how the Colonel was so blind to itall. It was truly baffling.

Men, her brain reminded her.

“Let’s go, honey,” she urged, tugging his hand to pull himout from behind his desk. “We have dinner reservations in an hour.”

“I would love to,” he began, glancing back to his desk. “ButI’ve got all this work to do still and –”

Resigning herself, Riza stood and cleared her throat, tryingto get their attention. Hesitantly, she stepped around her desk and approachedthem both. Eve narrowed her eyes at Riza. The blonde knew she hated her. It wasclear in her dismissive attitude of Riza and the sharp looks, but Riza didn’t bite.She just smiled at the woman and let her live in her petty little world. Killthem with kindness, was what Riza had drilled into herself at a young age.It wasn’t worth her time to rise to Eve’s childish challenge.

“Go, sir. I’ll take over here.”

“No, I couldn’t –”

“She just said you could, Roy,” Eve retorted, notgiving him a chance to dismiss Riza’s offer. Clearly, Eve was desperate to gethim out of the room and away from her. Riza felt amusement bubble in her chest.“So, let’s go!”

“Really?” he asked, speaking to her lowly. He sounded doubtful.Riza knew him. He felt bad about leaving her to do it all. It was clear in his concernedeyes. She ignored how it made her feel inside.

Riza nodded and smiled at them both. “Of course. Enjoy yournight. I’ve got some things to catch up on anyway and –”

“Oh, perfect,” Eve cried, grabbing Roy’s arm and attemptingto drag him out of the room there and then. He resisted, smiling at Eve, buthis gaze turned back to Riza’s.

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, go and enjoy your night. I’ll stay an extra hourand a half doing extra work – unpaid – so you can get your kicks.

Shaking those petulant thoughts, Riza nodded, plastering a convincingsmile on her face. “I’m sure, sir.”

“Let’s go then, Roy!” Eve squealed excitedly. “There is thislovely romantic restaurant on The Avenue that I’ve been dying to try. It’svery fancy, so we need to go home and get you changed. Or,” she giggled.“We could go home and get distracted if you’d prefer?”

Riza’s stomach tightened at the heavy implication that theywould be going home for sex. Not only due to her personal feelings, but it wasjust plain inappropriate. Roy seemed to think so too, because he frowned slightly,but he didn’t stop her from continuing her rambling that was no doubt a ploy totry and work up Riza.

Eve clearly suspected something was going on between the twoof them – the woman tried every minute they were together to put across themessage “He’s Mine” – but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. The hada history, sure, but who didn’t? Even the boys had begun to notice her behaviour,and it irritated them as well. At least Riza had them on her side. It made her feelsomewhat pleased that she wasn’t entirely alone in this Eve shit show of tryingto get a reaction out of her.

“Have you ever been to La Taverna, Riza?” Eve asked.If a five-foot two woman could look down her nose at the taller Riza Hawkeye,then that was what she was trying to do right now. Riza smiled pleasantly ather, having none of it. Riza had worked underneath a homunculus, for goodnesssake. There wasn’t much that could shake her nowadays, especially not thiswoman’s attempt to try and tear her down.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Hm. Shame,” she replied, tone implying that it wasn’t ashame at all.

Wow. Just… Wow.

“Let’s go, Roy! We need to go and get changed if we’re goingsomewhere that fancy,” she urged, that wicked grin on her face, eyes moving totry and catch Riza’s eye.

“All right, I’m coming,” he replied, hastily grabbing hisjacket and car keys from his desk. “See you tomorrow, Hawkeye.”

“Yeah, see you,” Eve stated. Well, at least she gave her ownfarewell. It was the most insincere thing in the world, but it was a farewell,nonetheless. Usually she just ignored Riza completely.

As Eve all but dragged the Colonel out the door, Riza sighedquietly and turned to approach the Colonel’s desk.

“Hawkeye?” she heard him call. She almost jumped in fright,not expecting him to still be in the room. A panicked thought raced through herhead as she hoped he hadn’t heard her sigh. The last thing she wanted was todisrupt things, not just for him, but for her as well. She was managing Eve. Itwas easy, in truth, but she didn’t want to let on just much Riza just didn’t likeher. Not because she was with Roy, but because of her attitude.

She was even rude to the boys.

Turning, she saw him leaning backwards, a hand gripping theedge of the doorframe to keep his balance as his eyes met hers. Her stomachfluttered as she took in the sight of him. That lopsided smile, the excitementdancing in his eyes, and his dishevelled hair was causing it to do acrobatsinside her. It was grossly unfair.

Only because thatsmile and that excitement isn’t directed at you.

Oh my god, shut upbrain.

“You’re the best,” headded gratefully.

“It’s not a problem, sir.”

“Come on, Roy,” Eve giggled and Riza’s gaze moved tothe hand that had materialised by his collar, gripping it tightly to urge him awayfrom the door and into the night they had planned.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” he called as Eveeventually pried him away from the door and Riza. “I owe you one!”

They left her alone in the office with only their laughterto echo back to her.

Riza’s shoulders slumped in defeat as she resigned herselfto her fate. Story of her life, at work, alone, to pick up the pieces whileeveryone left to enjoy their evening and a social life.

With one final sigh, she picked up the stack of papers,lugging them over to her desk. From the weight, this would take so much longerthan just an hour and a half. What had the Colonel been doing allafternoon to become this behind?

Her answer came in the form of a case file. Interest piquing,and forgetting about her current pathetic situation, Riza picked it up, openingthe file and skimming through it. It was for a robbery. It had ended in ashootout that incriminated one of the military’s own soldiers and it had fallenacross the Colonel’s desk today as a request to hear his thoughts on the case.On the paper next to it, there were doodles and scribbled notes covering it, linkingthe evidence in the case and notes together.

He’d been working on this, that’s why he was so behind.

Leaving the rest of the paperwork, Riza took the file overto her own desk. She could have sat in the Colonel’s chair, but that would havebeen some kind of self-torture that she wasn’t desperate enough to turn to yet.She didn’t need to feel so pathetic while his scent shrouded her entire being.No, she didn’t need that tonight.

Absentmindedly, she flicked through the file, adding her ownnotes to his, trying to make sense of everything. She should help, she toldherself. There was information on the bullets and firearms used which he’d puta large question mark next to. In a circle, were the words “ask Hawkeye”and it had been underlined twice – a reminder to himself to get her input on somethingthat most considered her speciality.

It made her stomach flutter again, a slow smile spreading acrossher face.

Goddammit.

An hour later – Riza could see why the Colonel had neglectedhis paperwork. This case was drawing her in, and she didn’t feel like stoppinganytime soon – a knock at the door broke her concentration. Looking up with afrown, she was confused as to who would be calling at the office at this hour. Theclock ticked on the wall, indicating it was half past six. She should havefinished an hour ago, but there was something about this case that kept herhere. Not to mention the fact that she still had all that paperwork to do aswell –

“General Grumman, sir,” she greeted, jumping to a sharp salute.

Grumman grinned widely at her, stepping into the office fullyrather than just having his head poking through the door. “Lieutenant Hawkeye.You’re a late one tonight.”

“Just catching up on the day, sir.”

“Mustang procrastinating again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all, sir. He was distracted by the case you passedover his desk this afternoon and I offered to organise it for him while he lookedit over. Unfortunately, I was distracted by other tasks and couldn’t completeit in time.”

Old habits of boosting his image in the face of the upperechelon died hard.

Grumman just stared at her for a moment, before breaking outinto a laugh. “The way you defend and cover for him. It’s admirable.”

Riza felt herself blush slightly.

“I asked him to look it over with you in mind due to the confusionover the kind of firearms and bullets used, but naturally I expected it wouldtake all his focus. I just wanted to pop my head in to see how far he’d gottenwith it.”

“Quite far, sir. I hope you don’t mind, but I added my ownnotes to it.”

“Not at all, Lieutenant. That’s why it sent it over here inthe first place.”

“I’ve managed to pick out the exact firearm that would usethat specific bullet. It’s not military issue, so it would exonerate WarrantOfficer Turner. He did nothing wrong. His gun may have been fired, but it wasn’this bullet that killed the shop owner. Another sweep on the scene may revealthe actual bullet that was fired.” She offered Grumman her notes and he scannedit eagerly while Riza stood and waited for his response.

“This is… Brilliant. Simply brilliant, Lieutenant,” he commentedafter reading, meeting her gaze with wonder in his eyes. “But how do you know Turneris innocent?”

“The bullet used is made to look and test like militarybullets, but they’re not. I saw a lot of them out east,” Riza launched into herexplanation as Grumman perched on the end of her desk, his full attention onher. “I noticed their differences early on in Ishval.” She supressed the memoryof removing it from a dying man’s body and being asked by her CO to examine itand determine if the Ishvalans were using their own weaponry against them. “Someonewas manufacturing them as a tactic to instil fear into the Amestrian soldiers.What would do it better than thinking the Ishvalans had their hands on ourweapon and ammunition stash?”

“Very true,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her notes oncemore. “So, this same person, or group, has moved onto robberies?”

“Possibly, sir, but I don’t think that’s the case. I hypothesisethat these thieves got their hands on this tech from out east and are briningit back into play to cause chaos once more.”

“Terrorism?”

Riza nodded. “I think so, sir. Make the military think that itsown soldiers are turning against the state. Not to mention, ruin lives andrelationships in the process.”

“Very good, Hawkeye. Excellent work,” he complimented inawe, an impressed smile spreading across his face. Riza shifted uncomfortablyunder his gaze, unused to someone complimenting her work. The boys did, and sodid the Colonel, but this was different.

She couldn’t remember the last time a family member had praisedher so much either.

“I would like your help further on this case, if you’rewilling?” Grumman proposed, standing from the edge of the desk.

“I would be happy to help, sir.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. “Report to my office tomorrow morningat 0800 hours. I’ll pass on the message that you’ve been temporarily assigned undermy command for the foreseeable future to Mustang tomorrow, seeing as he leftyou to pick up his slack,” he winked as he turned to take his leave. “Let thepoor boy suffer for his self-centredness, shall we?”

“I don’t –” Riza began, cringing. She didn’t want to cause ascene.

Grumman chuckled. “Not to worry, my dear. I’ll make sure it’spassed on. Leave that leftover work and go home. Mustang can do it tomorrow. Itserves him right for leaving you to do it alone.”

“He didn’t –”

“Plus, you’ve done more than make up for him not completingit in time. However,” he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I knowMustang well enough and I know you, Lieutenant. I know he was a lazy bumand didn’t finish his work on time, didn’t he? And you volunteered your free timeto stay late and finish it, didn’t you?”

Riza said nothing, but the uncomfortable look on her faceprobably gave her away. Grumman just laughed.

“I won’t tell, Riza, my dear. Now go home and get some rest.I look forward to finally getting stuck in with this case tomorrow,” hegrinned, leaving the office with a wave.

The silence wrapped round her as she processed what had justhappened.

Okay. New assignment. A thrill went through herstomach in anticipation of tomorrow. Not only would she get out of the officewhile the Colonel suffered with his paperwork, a small part of her was pleasedshe probably wouldn’t see Eve again for a few days. A blessing that she neededright now.

She just wanted some peace.

Glancing over to the Colonel’s desk, she eyed the paperworkthat was still untouched. Making her decision with confidence, Riza grabbed herpurse and packed up her belongings from her desk, leaving it tidy andpresentable as she wouldn’t be using it for a few days. Like Grumman implied,it served the Colonel right for being so lazy all day and leaving tasks to thelast minute, only for it to be pushed aside when something more interestingcaught his eye.

Riza tried hard not to tie that analogy to herself and Eve.Tried. But the heart is a fickle thing.

Maybe this was just what she needed. A break from him.

As she left the office, she walked with a purpose in herstep.

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