#it's weird because a few people in the community started mentioning his range these past couple of weeks

[winterrsun]

I’m in charge

Negan x reader SMUT

18+ only, mdni

Warnings: degradation, mentions of torture, dom! Negan, mild exhibitionism, mild knife play, squirting, scary/ mean Negan (basically just his true personality, but no actual violence occurs in story)

Authors note: this is not only my first the walking dead fic but it is hands down the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, it and me are depraved. Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want a part 2 because it’s low key already half written in my head….

Summary: Negan coerced reader to be his wife at The Sanctuary in exchange for leaving her people at Alexandria alone - but reader founds out they’ve also been holding Daryl prisoner and abusing him . When she goes to confront Negan it doesn’t quite go as planned and he quickly reminds her who’s in charge.

You stormed through The Sanctuary, up the stairs towards Negan’s office. A few people eyed you wearily as you basically pushed past them in the corridor, not even noticing as the conversation you’d had a few hours earlier rang fresh in your mind.

It was only recently that Negan had let you start making visits to Alexandria, even more recently that he’d permitted you to go alone. You’d been living at The Sanctuary as his ‘wife’ for nearly a year now, and you’d built up a surprising level of mutual trust in that time. Especially given you weren’t exactly there willingly. But he’d always taken a liking to you, ever since he first met your group that night outside the camper van.

You were disgusted and terrified of him, but at the same time even then you couldn’t deny a level of chemistry and physical attraction that streamed between you when you first locked eyes. It was what had allowed you to convince him to spare Glenn, you were sure of it.

Then whenever he and his saviours would visit Alexandria to collect their haul, he’d always make a point of seeking you out and starting conversation. Until one day he made his offer; that you go with them back to The Sanctuary and the community at Alexandria will be left alone, never having to split their supplies with The Saviours again. Holding an alliance with them that near ensured no other group would dare try to attack the community. It was an offer far too good to refuse, though Carol and Rick and Daryl had tried to convince you to.

It was hard at first, almost unbearable, missing your family and settling into a cold, strange new home that felt like a twisted cross between a shitty summer camp and a military academy. But you managed, like you always did. Negan’s likeness towards you only grew and it didn’t take long for you to become his wife. In fact, you’d be lying if you didn’t admit it had made life more bearable. Both for the luxurious living quarters and the somewhat weird sisterhood type friendship you’d struck with the other wives. And yeah, the sex was pretty damn good too.

Yes, things were really not as bad as you’d expected they would turn out for you here, especially since you started visiting Alexandria and your family. You’d made the trip this morning, taking the drive filled with the usual joyful high of anticipation you got at the prospect of seeing everyone. Except not everyone was there when you arrived.

You didn’t notice at first; why would the absence of one individual jump out at you immediately? But you did notice the way everyone behaved, it was different. They seemed…sad, and nervous. It didn’t take long for Carol to ask the question that shattered the glass for you.

“Have you seen him? How is he?”

“Who?” You asked, heart beat fast increasing at the unease of the situation. You glanced around and clocked Rick and Carl, Glenn was with Maggie hushing Hershel. You didn’t see Daryl anywhere and knew before Carol’s answer left her lips.

“Daryl, they’ve had him for weeks. He’s being held at The Sanctuary. Nobody even knows if he’s still alive, we haven’t heard anything for at least a week.”

After gathering what more information you could you fast turned on your heels and commenced your mission you were closing in on now; confronting Negan immediately. You’d all but left in a cloud of dust to the cries of “be careful” from your friends and family.

But what did you care about being careful? The Saviours weren’t some terrifying, unknown threat anymore. They were your home now. Negan was technically your ‘husband’ for Christ’s sake. And he had been imprisoning and possibly torturing one of your best friends right under your nose for weeks without telling you a thing. Needless to say, you were beyond pissed.

That feeling of outrage was what fuelled your actions as you flung open the door to Negan’s office, hardly registering the dozen or so saviours sat around the conference style table. Negan was standing when you entered, at the far side of the table from where you stood, and he and every other person in the room immediately turned their heads to look in your direction at your loud entrance.

You didn’t hesitate to march across the room, around the table, up to Negan. “You want to explain to me what the FUCK is going on with Daryl and WHY you didn’t tell me he’s here?” You demanded. You were panting slightly both from the rushed journey you’d made up to the office and from the angry adrenaline currently pumping through your body.

Negan remained silent for a few moments before he answered you in a dangerously low tone. “Sorry doll, did you not notice I’m in the middle of a meeting?”

You stupidly continued “I don’t give a fuck about a fucking meeting, Negan. I want answers now. I get to Alexandria to find my friends and family distraught and they tell me you’re holding Daryl here prisoner. Starving him and beating him, how could you fucking do this? You better start explaining!”

You realised you’d gone too far before you’d actually finished the last word. You felt, more so than heard, Simon scoff somewhere to your left. For the first time since you’d walked in you began to feel self conscious of all the eyes in the room that were now darting between Negan and yourself. He smirked a little, and slowly turned to look at his followers, as if daring them to react to your boldness. His eyes met yours again, as he started to speak in a tone that was downright scary this time.

“You don’t get to fucking demand answers of me. You don’t get to demand anything. Don’t you dare forget your real place here”.

You looked down, at a loss for words finally, and softly bit your lower lip. You’d fucking done it now. Maybe he’d let you leave quietly if you acted apologetic and submissive now. Yeah, right.

He forcefully grabbed your jaw and yanked your head upwards so you’d look up at him again, his finger tips pressing in harder than necessary. “You look at me when I talk to you. You think you can barge in here, act all tough and bratty in front of my soldiers. Fucking think again.” Your eyes glanced sideways and briefly met Dwight’s, and Negan’s gripped on you tightened even further. “Don’t look over there, look at me. Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. You made this choice and now you will have to be on the receiving end of one loud wake up call. Don’t for a second think that my fondness for you means you have ANY authority here, you do NOT!”

You jumped as he yelled the last words, and your legs began to tremble as you looked up at him, neck and jaw beginning to ache.

“Now my men are gonna think that you think you can run circles around me. I can’t fucking have that. So we’re going to have to show them, and remind you, who exactly is in charge here. Get on your fucking knees, now.”

You slowly lowered yourself one leg at a time onto your knees, while he maintained his unrelenting grip on your lower jaw. It hurt your neck even more to look up at him from this angle, but you didn’t dare break eye contact.

“Open your mouth” he commanded. You did so immediately, and he did something he’d never done before. He spat right into your mouth.

You felt shameful and disgusted as the wet deposit landed on your tongue, but also the tell tale sign of heat and excitement began to prickle your body at this lewd act. You didn’t move, knowing better than to act without instruction.

A few second later, he uttered one more word; “swallow”. And you did, feeling the cold liquid run down your throat before blinking up at him.

His eyes softened, just a tiny bit, before they resumed their darkness. “Unzip my fly” he instructed next.

Fighting the urge to glance at your audience, you began to reach your hands towards him. Your heart pounding against your chest and in your eye drums. Your fingers softly brushed the fabric of his pants before he broke, and swatted them away motioning for you to get up.

“We don’t have time for any more of this now, we’ve got real shit to deal with” he said. You felt relief wash through you at the prospect of this almost being over. “Wait for me in your room, go straight there now” he instructed. Maybe not so over just yet.

“Yes, sir” you replied timidly. The first time you’d spoken since the dynamic shift has happened between you, and your tone of voice couldn’t have changed more.

You quickly exited the room with your head down and your cheeks burning red, tears stinging your eyes that you refused to let fall out until you made it back to your room.

It had been over an hour, but you hadn’t done much other than alternate between nervously pace around your room and sit on your bed staring at the door. You hadn’t really seen him like that before with you. It reminded you, shudderingly, of how he first treated your group when you met him. You cast your mind back to Abraham and were overwhelmed with dread. You had forgotten just how dangerous the man you lived with was. You supposed it was a self preservation effort; you knew you had to play the role of his wife regardless, so it was easier to live in denial and try to make the most of it. You felt shameful about that now, it was selfish and dumb.

You wondered if he’d actually hurt you. Maybe he’d throw you in the cell with Daryl. At least then you’d get to see Daryl. God you couldn’t stop thinking about him. On the way back to The Sanctuary your mind had more been preoccupied with being pissed off at Negan concealing this from you than actually worrying about Daryl’s safety. Yeah, Carol said they’d beaten him but you knew Daryl could take a bit of roughing up, and figured no real harm would have been done to him. But now you weren’t sure at all.

You’d become a nervous wreck by the time two sharp knocks were heard on the other side of your door. You hurried over and opened it, to find Negan standing on the other side. Eyebrows raised at you.

“I take it you’ve had some time to mull things over, anything you’d like to fucking to say to me?” He said.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting Negan” you mumbled, eyes on the floor.

He smirked slightly, before saying “yeah, you better be. I’m real fucking disappointed in you, doll. We have something special, I’ll admit, but that doesn’t mean you forget who I am. I’m the boss, you respect and obey me, no questions asked.” You stared at him, frozen, while he went on. “The fact you think you can demand answers of me at all is a problem, but the fact you felt it acceptable to do it in front of my Saviours tells me you need a serious lesson to remind you of your place.”

You gulped, and started to try and plea your case. “I’m sorry Negan, I really am. I know my place here, I was blinded by concern for Daryl; he’s my family!”. You can tell it’s falling on deaf ears as his expression remains unchanged; his mind set. You wondered with terror what you’d been trying to keep out of your mind for the last hour; would he use the iron on you? Surely not on your face, he wouldn’t want to ruin his own viewing pleasure, but what’s to stop him maiming something like your arm?

Tears started to fall down your face, and he finally moved towards you further. “Oh baby doll” you gained an ounce of hope that he’s softening, “don’t start crying already, we haven’t even gotten started”.

The hope vanishes and your insides clenched in fear. “Are you going to hurt me?” You whispered.

“Not badly,” he said, “not in any way I know you can’t take baby girl”.

His tone edged into a territory you were more familiar with, and you raised an eyebrow tentatively. He was teasing you for sure, and now you were less terrified about the possibility of a truly terrible punishment. Well, one that would cause real lasting physical harm anyway. He slowly raised his arm and cupped your face, tilting it up towards his.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say, and show me what a good girl you can be,” he said steadily, and you gave him a small nod. “You gotta earn back my trust, and it isn’t going to be fucking easy.”

His hand slid down your décolletage, around your shoulder and landed on your waist. You couldn’t help but lean into it the tiniest bit, and noticed a small bubble of anticipation forming in your stomach.

That was followed by a twinge of guilt and sadness as you once again remembered Daryl. But you knew you had to face reality, the only way for you to have any hope of helping Daryl is to win back favour with Negan. You had to perform for him now, exactly how he wants. And if there was a small part of you that might enjoy some parts of what’s about to happen, well, that seemed like a small bonus you earned to slightly counter balance from the trauma of your life for the last however many years.

Negan gave your waist a squeeze and stepped back, drinking in your appearance. You were still dressed for this morning’s Alexandria visit; tight black jeans, a grey tank top and black laced up boots. You never left the compound in any shoes other than heavy boots that could kick in a walker skull if needed.

“Strip down to your underwear” he commanded softly, and you tried to make hasty work of your shoelaces, and not look too awkward hoisting them off. Next your hands shot to your pants button.

“No need to rush this part so much” he directed, and you immediately slowed down your efforts as you pulled your jeans down your legs, trying to bend over in attractive an angle as possible.

You made eye contact with him as you lifted your top over your head, and he licked his bottom lip slightly as his eyes glint. You then stand still, feeling a little awkward with him fully clothed and you in your worn out bra and cotton panties, staring at you like a lion sizing up its prey.

You know he likes to be the one to remove your next items of apparel, and sure enough he moved towards you and reached around to the back of your waist. He flicked open your bra with one hand and lets it drop to the floor.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver knife with a smirk. Your heart pounded against your now exposed chest. He ran the cool metal blade along your side and you shivered at its touch on your hot skin.

He moved swiftly and the sound of fabric cutting cleanly was heard before your panties drop to the floor.

“Mmmmmmm” he groaned in appreciation at your now fully naked form. “Well go on, do a little twirl for me” he instructed. You spun around, feeling like a doll in a music box on display. As you returned to face him, he raised his eyebrows indicating you to continue, and as you rotated back around again he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, back now to him.

You should have known he’d want to check out your ass, he loved worshipping it. But this wasn’t about being worshipped. He gently pushed you in the back so you began to move over to the bed with small footsteps, stopping just in front of it.

“Bend over, hands on the mattress” he instructed, and you leaned forward precariously while he added “feet further apart doll”.

You felt a burn of humiliation at the vulnerable position you were in, legs and cheeks spread open, presented in front of him. You flinched slightly at the touch of his fingers on your bum cheeks. He caressed them lightly, before delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek.

“Alright, let’s get this part over with” Negan said with a slight sigh, and you heard movement behind you, the sounds of what you were sure was him unbuckling his belt. You knew better than to look around and confirm your theory, so instead looked down at your hands and tried to steady your increasingly rapid breathing.

Further confirmation was given to you at the sound of leather on skin, as he warmed up a practise tap in his palm. Then came a burning flash of pain across your backside, and you couldn’t help but yelp.

“We’ll do ten, count me down doll” he murmured to you, and you whimpered in protest before you could stop yourself.

He tutted sympathetically, “I know baby girl, but you can take it. It’ll push your limits, but I have to teach you a real lesson here.” You nod reluctantly. “I told you to count, didn’t I?” He added in a more menacing tone.

Immediately you stuttered out the word “ten!”

You counted down each painful lash, picturing the sight of your ass covered in red marks, hoping that none of them had broken skin. Shamefully, you noticed each strike delivered an underlying trace of pleasure mingled with the pain. You were sure Negan knew it too.

As you rounded out on “T-two!” With a tear rolling down your face onto the sheets below, Negan paused. You dare a glance behind you and noticed he’s bent down, examining his work. You felt his breath fan over your most private spot, and realised he wasn’t looking at your bruised up ass; he’s staring at your pussy.

You felt the smooth leather of his belt suddenly invade your slit, and retreat just as suddenly. Then it appeared in front of your face as Negan narrated “fucking glistening, you filthy girl” with a chuckle.

Negan then delivered the final blow, directly to your pussy this time, landing square on your clit, and you let out a scream. You weren’t even sure whether it was more a scream of pleasure or pain at this point.

Negan cleared his throat pointedly and you realised you missed the final count. “One” you sighed out, before your trembling arms finally gave way and you slumped your upper body onto the mattress. Your legs started to follow and you bent your knees towards the ground, but Negan’s arm scooped under your waist and held your hips up, letting out a “not so fast doll” as he did.

You were now face down on the bed, with your feet still on the ground spread apart, and your backside more on display in the air than ever. When he was sure your legs are steady again, Negan released your hips and you felt more than heard him sink to his knees behind you.

“You took your punishment well baby girl,” he murmured, “now I’ll help make you feel better” he finished before plunging his face in between your legs.

He motorboated your cheeks before taking his hands and spreading them apart, and you felt his wet tongue land where you needed it the most. You moaned and leant back into him as he lapped at your pussy, eating you like a depraved man. His tongue flicked downwards at your clit, which stung just slightly after the belt slap he’d administered just minutes ago. He suckled at your sensitive nub and you let out a loud moan. You could already feel pleasure building towards climax after the state he’d riled you up into. His tongue lazily dragged back up away from your clit, and didn’t stop until it traveled all the way up past your pussy. He quickly replaced it with his finger sliding in past your slit and you immediately pushed back agreeably against the welcome entrance inside you.

You let out a gasp of surprise as his tongue found its new destination, one that he’d never been before - nor had anyone for that matter. He delicately licked your puckered asshole and you marveled at the new sensation, while two fingers now formed a steady rhythm pumping in and out of your pussy. You’d never felt anything like it, and as his tongue got braver, starting to push itself inside your tight hole, you fell into a continuous flow of moans and pleas while softly rocking into his rhythm.

You thought you were already in an unbeatable state of pleasure when his thumb began to rub circles around your clit, and you grasped helplessly at the sheets beneath you. While you knew your orgasm was still building and approaching, you felt so good it was like you were already coming. Yet you felt the feeling continue to build, and you knew that no matter what you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, Negan, oh please” you sang out.

His tongue danced around and inside your asshole while his fingers mercilessly fucked you, and his thumb circled your clit faster and faster. Your gut clenched and you cried out, reaching a peak like no other you’d ever experienced. Suddenly, too late to react, you felt a secondary feeling like you were about to pee. And then it all happened, you screamed in overwhelming pleasure while fluid broke out of your body and gushed down Negan’s hand. You swore you actually saw stars for a moment and not once did Negan’s actions pause.

You heard him let out an animalistic growl from behind you as you soaked his fingers and he finally withdrew his face from your ass cheeks. As your high came down he continued to pound into your pussy and your legs started to buckle, your energy fast fading.

“Negan, I can’t, no more” you let out softly, desperation in your voice.

He chuckled, delivering two final harsh thrusts of his fingers before pulling them out.

You bathed in the warm, hazy feeling that tingled throughout your body post orgasm, letting yourself lean into the drunk sensation it gave you for a moment.

“Turn around doll,” he instructed. Shakily you pushed yourself up on your elbows and turned so you were sat up watching him, while he stood up straight before you. He looked you in the eyes and licked every one of his fingers clean, slurping up your juice that had coated his entire hand and soaked his sleeve.

Any embarrassment you were at risk of feeling from having squirted for the first time in your life vanished when you realised how much he evidently loved it. He stopped before he got to his pinky and now brought his hand to your mouth. He pressed his finger to your lips and you opened up to let him in, sucking your own juices off him and noting the tangy taste on your tongue.

“Fuck, you did so good baby girl” he praised, stroking your hair with his other hand.

You were too exhausted to reply at this point, and he seemed to pick up on that. Finally feeling satisfied with his punishment, he smiled at you sympathetically. “Time for you to get some rest I think” he murmured, guiding you into the bed as your eyelids felt heavy already.

You slowly laid your head down onto the pillow as he guided you encouragingly, and let your eyes flutter closed. In that moment, you couldn’t remember anything at all that had happened that day. But it would all come back to you in the morning.

#Negan smith #the walking dead #Negan smith smut #Negan smut #Negan x reader #negan x reader smut #Negan filth #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #negan x you

[hearts4yawnzzn]

Only His // Lee Rang

Lee Rang x Siren!oc

Warnings!: this will be exactly written as the kdramas first season after 3 parts, so there will be mentions of; gore, death, murder, suicide, and torture.

Word Count: 2182 words.

~ HER POV ~

My mom has always refused for me to get into any physical contact with anyone else, although the reason is still unknown, she gets weird and tenses up whenever I ask her about it, I never knew why.

Yes, I could ask my dad, but he's always been dismissive about the subject, especially when I ask about it every single day. And honestly, I grew tired of it. I'm sick of hearing the same words when I ask about something so negligible.

"Miyeong-ah! Come down for dinner!" My mom calls out as I hear the clanking of pans from the kitchen, I hurriedly dismiss what I'm doing and speed out of my room and down the stairs.

If I'm being honest, I've always thought I've lived a fake life, ever since I was born, I would only get treatment from 'special' doctors. I'm sick of being different.

~ NO ONE'S POV ~

Miyeong's father was helping her mother set up the table, it was always four, not three. As Miyeong Ascended down the stairs, she rushed to kiss her father on the cheek and sat down across from him, her mother soon presented herself by carrying a big pot and placing it on the table, everything else was set beforehand.

"Eomma, why are you always forgetting that three people live here? You always put an extra set as if someone is going to randomly join us." The girl didn't waste a second waiting for her parents as she dug in, starting by eating some kimchi with her rice.

Her mother didn't have anything to say to her, frankly because she had no idea as well. The lid of the pot was open, and everyone was greeted by the mouth-watering smell of the cooked meat.

"The food tastes as amazing as it always is, honey." Her father complimented his wife, but Miyeong was sick of it, she was sick of living in such a fake ass family. Her metal chopsticks drop from her hand as she let out a loud scoff, sitting back in her chair.

"Eomma, Appa, are we going to keep doing this? Tell me why I can't communicate with people like a normal person!" she was enraged, the girl has said this many times before, but she never continued, now is her chance to finish.

She pushed her plate back aggressively, her parents looking at her in disbelief like their daughter had just gone insane.

Her mother slammed her hand down on the table, but her daughter didn't falter, she has learned to stand up against her mother, ever since day one. All by herself.

Miyeong wouldn't dare to show anyone around her that she was terrified, her parents never hit her, but still, she was scared of that possibility.

"Yah! Have you lost your mind!? Sit down and eat your food!" they were both yelling at each other, while the father stayed silent, he has endured this for the past 23 years, ever since they found her.

"No! Do you think I'm dumb!? You don't even treat me like your own daughter anymore!" tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, but she needed to hold back, just a little bit longer until she can leave this place.

The place she used to call 'home'.

"You're giving me so much stress! You don't even respect your own mother!" the girl stared at her in disbelief, she let out a scoff that soon turned into a laugh, was the woman in front of her serious right now?

Miyeong had planned it all.

She planned to pester them every day for the last 23 years.

She had planned to get into a big fight with the woman sitting across her, just a few days before the lunar eclipse.

Her bag was already waiting for her at the door, all she had to do now was make a dramatic closing to this argument, take her bag, and leave.

"I've been asking you every fucking day for the past 23 years! You didn't even say shit to me!! You think you can call yourself my 'mother' just because we both live under the same roof!?" she sat up from her chair and roughly pushed it against the table.

The entire table rocked as some of the empty glass cups were shattered onto the floor.

"I have had enough of dealing with you, and your husband." her tone was low, but you could feel the venom seeping through her words as her fists were balled, knuckles turning white.

It was time for her dramatic exit, Miyeong nodded her head one last time before taking out something that she was sitting on, papers. She gave one last look at the papers, then to the woman in front of her before finally throwing them to her face.

The old couple sitting at the table was stunned, they had never expected that their 'daughter' was capable of doing something like this. They had always thought of her as someone weak and emotional when facing herself or others.

Miyeong didn't dare to look back, she walked away from the table and headed towards the front door, as expected, her bag was on the floor, right beside her shoes. The brunette hurriedly put on her shoes and slung her bag over her shoulder, she didn't even know if she ore her shoes right, but that was not important.

Her hand made contact with the doorknob, and without even thinking back, she twisted it and opened the door, walking out of the darned house before slamming the door shut behind her.

Now all she could do is run, even though she might have planned this for 23 years, she didn't know she would get this far, she didn't know where to go.

She wanted to get lost, so she wouldn't get found by them ever again.

She will never go back.

Miyeong made sure, throughout planning her escape, that she wouldn't get caught by them again.

And nothing will stop her from getting what she wants.

The 23-year-old kept running through the streets, she was running for only a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours.

Her throat was becoming dry and cold, she wasn't taught to build her stamina. Ever since she was young she was homeschooled, her 'parents' haven't even bothered to give her PE classes.

The brunette kept looking back, she was terrified of them following her, she needed to look back to make sure they weren't there.

The bag on her shoulders was very heavy, it was putting so much weight on her, but that was not going to stop her.

Miyeong took the first left she saw, it looked like an apartment complex for rich people.

The people who kept her isolated for 23 years were definitely rich, the man who called himself her 'father' used to come home wearing suits every day, while the woman who called herself her 'mother' would always wear designer bags, shoes, clothes... Anything that she can get her hands on.

She diverted her sight to the main entrance, two bodyguards guarding the front while two other bodyguards were situated near the main gate.

Without placing any suspicion upon herself, the girl managed to swiftly walk over and sit on the bench. She took her bag off of her shoulder and placed it beside her, the heavy pressure she felt on her shoulders was instantly lifted, and she sighed in relief.

Miyeong didn't expect any company, she knew no one, she wasn't allowed to own any type of electronics, and she wasn't allowed to go outside.

Communication was definitely not her strongest skill.

The sound of the main gate slightly screeching open caught her attention, her head instantly turned to observe the vehicle approaching. The brunette raised her head to take a look at who was inside, the windows were very tinted. She barely saw their faces, but they definitely saw hers.

A woman was sitting in the driver's seat, she had long dark hair and an almost petite figure. On the other hand, a male was sitting in the passenger's seat, his hair was obviously short, and he was biting the nail of his thumb while resting his arm on the window. He looked really annoyed about something.

But other than that, Miyeong was curious to know more about him. By just barely looking at him once, she felt like she has known him for centuries, but maybe even then, he could be a rich clueless dumbass that she could rob. After all, aren't all rich people clueless and dumb?

The white car was heading for the garage, Miyeong stood up from the bench and approached the main gate, in order not to look suspicious, the brunette approached the secretary's desk and asked her if she could borrow her phone to 'make a call', while giving the secretary and excuse that her phone 'ran out of battery'.

The secretary didn't think anything of it and gladly handed her the phone, Miyeong smiled followed by a short bow.

She pretended to dial someone's phone number and placed the phone to her ear, "Hey Unnie! I'm in the building right now but I forgot what number your apartment is..." she proceeded to walk towards the elevator, nodding, and humming a few yeses. Miyeong averted her eyes and stared at the floor number above the elevator going up.

"Unnie, which floor are you on again?" The number above the elevator stopped, "Ah the 6th floor? Alright I'll be right there!" she 'hung up' the phone and returned it to the secretary. The girl quickly walked over to the elevator, and pressed the 'up' button several times, as soon as the elevator opened, she hurriedly walked inside and pressed the number 6 button.

The elevator closed and started to travel up, she tapped her foot against the floor anxiously, she was overthinking the situation now.

The brunette had no fighting skills and extremely poor communication skills. A 'ding' sound reached her ears as the elevator opened, she peaked her head through to make sure no one was in the hallway, once she confirmed that the coast was clear, she walked out of the elevator and proceeded to look for the guy's apartment.

It's like he knew she was going to rob him, or that he forgot to close his own door. Maybe he is that stupid.

Miyeong quietly approached the open door and she made the open gap a little bit greater so she could fit through.

Once she was through, she looked around his apartment, of course, it was very modern, and everything looked brand new and spotless, this man owns the latest models and versions of everything!

Out of her own curiosity, Miyeong slowly started heading for his kitchen, looking around in awe. She stared at his fridge, opening it slowly as she put some of the stuff inside in her bag, carefully closing the fridge, Miyeong stalked towards the living room.

It had two pairs of sofas, and a big TV against the wall, and a table in between with a vase full of red roses.

The apartment itself was very quiet and dark, the only source of light was coming from the kitchen. How could he just disappear after going inside, was he pranking her?

Miyeong made her way to the bedroom, she looked to her right to find a closed door with the light on.

'He must be taking a shower or something, I should probably hurry.' she shrugged and walked inside his room, she looked for anything that might contain some money or anything she could sell.

She stopped in front of a closet, extending her hand out to open it, but she felt a strong grip on her shoulder, turning her around and grabbing her by her neck, placing her in a chokehold.

The girl's hands immediately gripped the person's wrists, trying to pry their hands off of her, she looked up to see them.

Of course, it was him.

"Why did you break into my house?" his glare could burn a hole between her eyes as he spoke with a harsh tone, his grip slowly tightening on her neck.

Miyeong let out a small yelp as she coughed out her answer, "You left— your door open—" She was trying so hard to loosen his grip, but he was too strong.

His strength was abnormal, possibly too strong to even be human.

The man was raging, his question wasn't being answered and he definitely didn't seem like a patient type of person.

Miyeong was slowly losing air, she could barely breathe with the grip he had on her,

She had tried to speak, to give him an answer, but it was of no use.

The girl harshly closed her eyes as the grip on his wrist lightened, and when she opened her eyes again she felt lightheaded.

When their eyes met the male widened his in shock, his lips slightly disconnecting from each other.

And he immediately let go of her.

#lee rang #tale of the nine tailed 1938 #lee dong wook #kim bum #lee yeon #nam ji ah #kdrama #lee rang x reader #gu shin joo #ki yu ri

[minek68]

WoW community kinda hit a new lowpoint these past few weeks: in a season where +25-26 keys (less than 1% of the playerbase) seem possible with the widest range of specs in a long time, suddenly the balance is the worst it's ever been because all the groups who did +30-s, use the same (undeniably dummy strong) team comp. Which then turns into an acutal problem - this is WoW after all, where you can get declined from basic content for playing certain classes (no, really), because no one understand the concept of viability, or doesn't even get what balance means in a real existing game.... Then Blizzard just started monetizing the Trading Post, and some people are like "uhm, actually, why are you mad at microtrasactions in 2023" and somehow these two groups of people have a huge overlap, and it's so inherently weird, that we have a studio where a serial abuser of women had a character turn into a fascist off screen because she was a key character in an xpac where his fav died (not to mention Sylvanas...) but somehow the playerbase manages to make this whole thing so much worse... Rant over.

#world of warcraft #dragonflight #rant #wtf #gamers were a mistake

[yridenergyridenergy]

#just an idea I had that I don't feel was made yet #and I hear all those other songs who sound all the same per band #it's weird because a few people in the community started mentioning his range these past couple of weeks #and I was secretly hoping for their patience and wishing that the work I had dedicated was not in vain hah #almost nothing I do comes without some sort of conspiracy but this has literally the only purpose of #promoting how varied his singing is to fans and non-fans alike #wish I knew the proper A B C D E F G stuff to appeal to the actual music connoisseurs too but oh well #enjoy #Dir en grey #京 #Kyo #compilation #video #vocal range #voices #tones #singing #singer #vocalist #vocal #voice #sukekiyo

[notanotherinfjblog]

The types as strangers I wish I had known (version 4)

Previous versions: One, two, three

INTJ: She was the first person to show me kindness in a new place. Moving across the country all alone in the middle of a pandemic is not exactly the ideal start of your first real job. So she took it all on herself to take me by the hand, to organise all the things that I had no clue about. She gave me a little tour around the workplace, recommended me places to eat once the pandemic is over, asked me about how I was settling in, remembered little things I mentioned. She was the only person not working from home when I first arrived and so it was just the two of us. She was quiet and reserved as most people here seem to be, and she was awkward in every way when interacting with me. But she tried so hard and maybe it’s just me projecting, but she said her son was in the very same situation as me right now, and it felt like she tried to help me in the way she couldn’t help her son, like she wanted to take me under her wing, but not make it awkward, and then actually making it slightly awkward in doing so. Her heart just felt warm and so did mine when I said thank you.

ENTJ: Everyone knows the classic character of a self-righteous doctor in a hospital show. You know that one. The one that everyone thinks may be hard-working and clever, but heartless and uncaring and egocentric, but a few episodes down the line you start to see that there is more going on underneath the rude attitude. I’ve always believed this to be a stereotypical depiction that is more of a caricature until I met her. She was a doctor at a hospital I stayed in, and damn, she was just like that. She stormed into the rooms, rolled her eyes at a patient whose German was bad, even though she had a thick accent herself, couldn’t be bothered to commit to polite standards of communication like saying hello or thanks, and she didn’t care to wait for just a second when a nurse was in her way and pushed her aside instead. Especially two young nurses were exasperated with her and complained about her as soon as she stormed out of the room. They really made me feel like I had gotten myself into a hospital show as a patient, it was fantastic. And I have to say, even though this young doctor had all of these flaws, she was the only one that actually talked to the patients and explained what was going on, hell she even talked to that woman’s daughter on the phone for a few minutes because the woman didn’t understand the language. Just like on tv, she may have been rude, but at least she seemed like a good doctor.

INTP: My university department held a conference and I was responsible for making sure that all these professors and PhD students didn’t die from their coffee cravings, so I spent most of my time running around with giant coffee cans. And I have to admit, among all the scientists that were roaming the halls, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was a PhD student from the Netherlands and there was just something about him that did not fit in. You know how professors are often a bit eccentric or strange by normal standards (which explains why we had to explain to an unspeakable amount of them how a coffee can works), so you’d imagine he’d fit right in. But he didn’t. He was his own universe. While everyone was networking, he was studying the research posters in silence. Not because he was too shy, he seemed very comfortable in his own skin. He just didn’t seem to care all that much about other people. I got to listen to a few talks and as he sat in front of me, I saw him play a video game. At an international conference. With professors and colleagues sitting behind him. And he still managed to ask intelligent questions about the talk afterwards. No idea how. Part of me wished I could have talked to him, not because he was cute though he was, but rather because I really could not tell you what kind of person he was. Was he a good person? A bad one? Probably something in-between. But I don’t think my opinion would have fazed him all that much, since to me, he seemed like the kind of person that valued his own opinion on himself the most, and I think that’s a good thing that he’s got there.

ENTP: I had just moved to a different city in a completely different part of the country, and I had just gotten back from my first walk around town. Sounds exciting, but I got back to this unfamiliar flat that I was supposed to call home now and I was panicking. So I stepped out on the balcony hoping the cold air and the stars above could calm my nerves. But it wasn‘t them that did. I stood there in the dark and saw an elderly couple in the parking lot. The woman was in a very similar mental state as me. She was running around their car and was talking about all the things they still had to take care of and things they‘d need, but had forgotten, and her voice got higher and shakier with every word. And then her husband just went and hugged her. She kissed him goodbye three times and every time she did, he let out a little laugh, calm and gentle. He pat her on the back and said that everything was going to be okay, that they would see each other again tomorrow. She kissed him goodbye one last time before she drove away, and I stood there alone in the dark and thanked the universe that I was there at the right time to hear this old man‘s words. For some reason he always seems to appear every time I‘m feeling low and strikes up a little chat with me. And every time he leaves, I have already forgotten what I was sad about.

INFJ: I think everyone pursuing an academic career has this one hero, this one scientist that lit the spark in their heart to dedicate their life to science just like them. I know I have one. So when I started an internship at his lab with one of his colleagues, I didn‘t really expect to meet him. I had seen him around once in a while, yes, but who was I to approach a stranger to tell him what his work meant to me? But then came the plenary meeting that was meant to get more people of the lab to get to know one another - and he approached me. He sat down next to me, asked me about my academic past and future, asked about my current project with his colleague. And I still can‘t believe it. Only a little girl singing in the church choir who is suddenly approached by Beyoncé can hope to imagine what it felt like. He was an internationally renowned scientist, he would have had every reason to look down on the rest of us. Many of them certainly do. But here he was, talking to a little intern from abroad. He was such a genuinely nice person, was sweet and slightly awkward, he even mirrored my weird head nodding that I always do when all the words have left me. He felt like a kindred spirit. I didn‘t tell him what these few minutes talking to him meant to me though part of me wishes that I did, yet still he invited me to the meetings of his research team even though I was not a part of it. And when I came and sat down, he turned around, smiled at me and turned away again, and I can‘t tell you how insane it feels that all of this actually happened.

ENFJ: I’ve written about him before and I will write about him forever. I remember the day our eyes first met in that crowded school corridor almost half of my life ago. I don’t know why neither of us could look away that day, why neither of us could ever look away again from this day on. Somehow our eyes always found each other. I remember the snowy day at the train station so many years later, how he stood there alone in the cold and how he slowly walked towards me, his eyes glued to his feet that abruptly stopped right next to mine. And yet he stayed silent. As did I. So we stood there for an hour waiting for our train, quickly averting our eyes every time they came close to meeting. I remember him looking back at me over his shoulder once we got off the train. He seemed quite flustered that I was about to find out that he had parked his car right next to mine and so he fled. Both of us kept parking our cars next to each other, even when we didn’t see each other for months. But I could never follow him out. He was my own personal mystery. I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering what it was, this strange thing that was going on between us, this little secret that we shared, and I wondered who he really was inside, not who he pretended to be in front of his friends. He was like an island in their midst, always a bit detached, always tucked away behind a smile. Soon twelve years will have passed and still we’ve never spoken a word, but somehow these dark brown eyes still feel more familiar than my own, these eyes that always seemed to look right into my soul. I could have stared at them my whole life. I honestly have no idea what it is that is tying me to him, what it is that I felt back then and what I’m feeling right now. Maybe I’ll never know. I haven’t seen him in three years, but I know our paths will cross again some day. I can feel it in my bones. This story is not over yet. Maybe then we’ll finally be ready to meet properly. Maybe then we’ll finally be able to speak. 

INFP: I happened to stand at the window when I saw the new postman approach our letterbox, and so I watched him throw letters and magazines inside - and stop. He moved his head closer to the box and a frown appeared on his face. He backed off, wanted to leave, came back again and didn’t seem to know what he was supposed to do. So he rang the doorbell. As I opened the door, there he was, shy and with slight panic in his eyes. “I’m so sorry”, he said. “There is a sign on your letterbox that you don’t want advertisements, but I saw that too late and I had already thrown it in. I’m terribly sorry. I can’t get it out of the box and so I thought, I should ask if that’s alright.” And my heart just went awwww, that’s adorable. I smiled at him and told him that it was absolutely fine. He seemed so relieved. So he went away and I closed the door.

ENFP: This is for the man with the kind, but heartbreakingly sad eyes who sometimes sits in front of the train station silently begging for money. This is for the grandparents who spent their train ride trying to teach their little grandchildren the numbers from one to five. This is for the old woman who always kneels down in the middle of the train station with her forehead pressed to the ground, keeping still for hours, enduring the devastation of thousands of people passing by without stopping. This is for the woman who knelt down next to a homeless man, who took his hand and asked how she could help him. This is for the man who made faces at the little boy sitting next to him on the train to make him laugh. This is for the anger I felt when I saw the distraught face of a 10-year-old boy coming out of the movie „1917“ at the cinema with his father. This is for the happy little puppy who lives next to the bakery where I usually grab my lunch. This is for the twenty people who decided to all speak a foreign language during a meeting with each other just because I was there too, a total stranger they had never even seen before who is bad at their native language. This is for the creep that asked me in the middle of the street at night to accompany him. This is for the two teenagers who went to buy sandwiches and coffee for a homeless woman. This is for the families I often see sitting at the train stations, sometimes with a baby in their arms, holding a sign saying „Syrian family. We are hungry, help us please.“ This is for the man who yelled at his girlfriend because she gave them some money. This is for the people who play music during everyone‘s morning commute on the train. This is for all the people who approached me speaking in French and started to laugh when I apologised for not being very good at it. This is for Paris, in all its beauty and all its ugliness. This is for humanity, in all its beauty and ugliness.

ISTJ: He was sitting alone on the train, looking out of the window while listening to something with headphones. He was a tall guy in his mid-20s, one with a full beard, long brown hair in a neat ponytail, and a t-shirt of some rock band that I had never heard of. So, I was sitting there, three meters away, minding my own business, when I suddenly heard a giggle. The entire car of the train had been quiet all this time as it usually is, so I looked up and saw this guy trying to contain his laughter. He pressed the lips together, scratched his nose in order to inconspicuously cover his mouth. I don’t know where this sudden burst of laughter came from. Maybe he was listening to an audio book and reached a funny part. Maybe he was listening to a voice message of a funny friend. Maybe he just had a very amusing thought, I don’t know. But I’ve always had a soft spot for people who randomly start laughing in public and get embarrassed about it cause it’s always, always adorable.

ESTJ: She was a PhD student at my university and she was the one who mainly organised the conference that the above mentioned INTP was attending, too. And even though she didn‘t get tired of complaining about how much work this all was, how typical it was of her boss to volunteer to hold the conference at our university and then not lifting a single finger, she was like a fish in the water, not out of it. She observed everything and everyone, immediately recognised little problems or things that could become a problem, she was constantly running around checking everything, and she kept so many things in mind, it was impressive. One of the attendees sat in a wheelchair and as soon as she noticed, she made us rebuild the entire cafeteria immediately so that everything was reachable for her. And in all the running around, all the obligatory smalltalk, all the stress, she still found the time to stand with us student helpers and joke around.

ISFJ: It was 6pm on a Friday afternoon when all of Paris was trying to get home in the middle of a train strike, so the trains that did run were even more crowded than usual. I did not enjoy sharing 5 square metres with almost 40 other people. But then he entered the train and stood right next to me, leaning against the doors without moving, looking like an intellectual in gangster clothes. We were surrounded by noise of people talking and of rails screaming, by strangers breathing onto our skin, and he just stood there unfazed by it all. He radiated calmness like I‘ve never seen anyone do before. Soon it reached me too, filled me up and left no place for any distress or anxiety. He was like an island in the storm that grew and grew and grew until all of the 40 people around him were safe. I felt safe. I don‘t think he has even the faintest clue about how special he is, but I feel like it has been a privilege to have crossed paths with him.

ESFJ: Did you ever meet someone who, on first glance, looks like the perfect example of a jock, just a short guy with bigger arms than he’s tall? But then you look again, take a closer look at him and you realise that his face has goodness written all over it. He may be horribly bad at grammar for a linguistics student and he may be a bit too sensitive for his own good, but he never made it a secret of how much of a sweetheart he really is. And in situations like these, when he talks about how emotional he got as a tutor when his student told him about a dying grandfather because he felt responsible for the student’s wellbeing, in situations like these, when he approaches my friend after a class to apologise for his harsh criticism of her presentation and to tell her that he didn’t mean it that way, to which she gets all confused because she didn’t take the slightest offence to anything he has ever said in his entire life and he mumbles that he may have to stop beating himself up about stuff like this, I just want to give him a hug and never let go. 

ISTP: I saw her on the metro during rush hour in Paris, and I immediately noticed her to be different. Everyone else always only stares at their phones or into space, everyone else always look like a tired zombie. She was not a zombie. She was leaning against the doors, shaking her leg in the rhythm of the music she was listening to. She was short and skinny, and not even her punk boots could hide that, but there was such a confidence shining out of her, a confidence in who she was that made her look like a giant. She looked like she‘s probably had it rather rough in life, but it didn‘t break her. She rose to the adversity, rose in spite of it all. She seemed to be capable of so many things. Intelligent enough to go into science if she ever wanted to, vicious enough to end someone who ever dared to cross her, warm enough to love deeply and with all her heart if she let it.

ESTP: It was a hot day and far hotter than a September afternoon ever should be. I was stuck in a traffic jam in the city, melting in my car as were so many others, waiting for that red light to finally turn green. And then he came, a young guy in an ugly shirt and with a hat on his head. He started to cross the street, but then stopped right there in the middle. And he started to juggle. In the middle of a traffic jam on a Friday afternoon, he juggled. Just before his green light turned to red, he bowed down to the cars a few times, and then jumped to the sidewalk and left. Thanks, mate, you enigmatic juggling traffic hero.

ISFP: I met him at a wedding. He was a bald man in his 70s with thick horn glasses and probably the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. Not because he was mean, but because he was so confident in himself and so observant. His gaze constantly changed direction. He took everything in that happened around him, he didn’t miss a single thing that was going on, and still he was calm and sure of himself that everyone at our table felt like they had to impress him in some way. Just by looking at him you knew he must have lived an extraordinary life and he really did. He liked talking about himself. He talked about living in the American desert, on a mediterranean island, in a Buddhist monastery, and on a cruise ship. He talked about the smell of the desert at night, about the taste of oranges picked from a tree. He talked about the people he met, about professors and musicians, about cooks and monks. He talked about how much his village loved him. But he also liked listening to others talk about their own lives. It was obvious that he treated life as an experience, as a journey that cannot be planned or imagined, only lived. When we said goodbye, he looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks it’s great what I’m doing with my life and that he’s looking forward to meeting me again some day. It felt a bit like receiving praise from a deity. 

ESFP: He was a nurse in the accident and emergency department at the hospital and the first person to talk to me while I was waiting in front of an examination room. He was only passing by with a colleague, but he stopped the conversation when he saw me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Aw, sugarmouse, what happened to you?”, was the first thing he said to me. You know, if an unknown man in his 50s is coming towards you and calls you “sugarmouse”, you’re usually not exactly happy, but he was just an overwhelmingly non-threatening guy that called all of the nurses and doctors by kitschy nicknames and radiated warmth wherever he went. He had noticed that I was nervous, and so he came to me and tried to gently put my mind at ease and I was really grateful for it.

#writing this took 3 years #nothing happens during a pandemic but all the more important this kind of testimony to these people feels to me #esfj has actually become a friend of mine by now #isfp is part of my family now since it was his brother's and my mother's wedding #and the enfj guy is the same as in the first version of this post that i wrote 5 years ago #i don't know where he is now or what he's doing but i really hope that his life is filled with love and happiness #i just think it's strange that after graduating i never saw 98% of the people i went to school with again #but the two people i did meet again dozens of times? were enfj and his little brother #sometimes it felt like a conspiracy of the universe and we were just too stupid #every time i think about how we had eye contact while driving past each other twice i think i‘m going insane #mbti #myers-briggs #types as #strangers i wish i had known #intj #entj #intp #entp #infj #enfj #infp #enfp #istj #estj #isfj #esfj #istp #estp #isfp #esfp

[ultrahpfan5blog]

Thoughts on B99 season 8 and the finale....

So I must admit, I have been putting off watching the finale as part of being in denial that the show has ended and there are no more new episodes to come. And just like Terry, I was not in denial of being in denial. But I finally pulled the trigger and watched the final two episodes and I do have a lot of thoughts about it and the final season.

Firstly, about season 8 has a whole. I will begrudgingly admit that this might be the weakest season of the show, and a large part of it being due to circumstances surrounding the show. Now weakest does not mean it was a bad season. Weakest seasons of B99 is better than 99% of other shows, pun intended, but I think this season struggled a little dealing with the seriousness of the policing storyline but still trying to find humor, combined with the short episode order, and trying to find appropriate endings for the characters. Its a valiant effort and the season is still enjoyable but I don't think it was completely successful at juggling everything.

The fundamental problem with the policing storyline that it is inherently serious and that clashes with the tone of the show. There was a sense of tonal whiplash throughout the season as a result. It was a bit of a problem when a show as progressive as B99 but also a show that is inherently about good cops trying to do good in their community has to try and appeal to a fanbase that considers policing fundamentally as corrupt. Its a tough line to ride and while the show does try, I can't say it completely worked for me. The premiere was arguably the most uncomfortable episode to watch because of the subject matter and the show was very brave to do that and also later in the season when the show put its lead character as Jake as the person in the wrong in a policing matter. But because of the severity of what is happening in these episodes, its tough to find them very funny even though there are hilarious moments in these episodes. Holt getting huffy was great. But in the end, these aren't episodes that I necessarily feel like revisiting. Also, because the issue of policing is big, it had to be done over the course of the season. Which meant 4 out of 10 episodes were relatively serious. I think Blue Flu is the best episode of the bunch in the storyline as it managed to give us a heartfelt storyline with Jake and Boyle as well as do a good job giving Holt a showcase against McGinley's O'Sullivan, who was an excellent antagonist. I felt the resolution of the storyline was a little too pat and convenient. I know they mentioned that O'Sullivan was re-elected for life but they also made it seem like their proposal could change the NYPD which seems like a very tv thing. I also admittedly rolled my eyes that Amy got promoted from Sergeant of Uniformed officers to being a Chief. No way do I buy that type of promotion. That's like a 5 rank promotion I believe. And if its possible, it kind of felt like uncomfortable favoritism on Holt's part.

The best episodes of the season were the episodes in between the policing storyline, because they were lighthearted and fun and played to the strength of the show. However, the airing schedule also kind of worked against it. The tonal whiplash was very evident because we would get one fairly serious episode coupled with one lighthearted episode back to back and it did feel weird while watching it. I feel like if this was like a 15 episode season and the policing storyline was a bit more spaced out, it wouldn't have felt so weird tonally. I loved Balancing, because of the realistic portrayal of how parenting can be. I also really loved PB&J. I know people have varying opinions on the Pontiac Bandit but I really loved how sweetly sentimental the episode ended up by the end. I also liked that Boyle got to be a part of the episode because I always wanted a Jake, Judy, and Boyle episode. I think the way the season executed the Holt and Kevin storyline was exquisite. I was initially not sure why they went about the route of spitting them up but they did an incredible job at their reunion storyline. The Lake House was a hilarious start. I love that the show came through on the commitment of their vow renewal from like season 2 I believe. Holt and Kevin got the vow renewal, the romantic kiss in the rain. It was wonderful. The season had some strong peraltiago moments, specifically in Balancing and in the finale.

The one episode I was a little meh about was Game of Boyles. I really don't think in a final season which already was so short that we needed an episode about Boyle not being a blood Boyle. It wasn't even a particularly big showcase for Joe and Charles' weird habits. The highlight of the episode was the big Holt and Kevin reunion but the episode was otherwise a bit flat. I think because of the fact that the episode order was so short, a few of the characters seemed genuinely wasted. I believe Stephanie Beatriz was pregnant throughout the shooting. With Covid, maybe it was part of the deal for her to be a more minor role but apart from the premiere and the finale, she really isn't used much despite the premiere kind of pitching her as a driving point of this policing storyline which then pivoted mostly to Holt and Amy. Terry was really completely sidelined all season. He's a hilarious side character in some episodes like The Lake House but he didn't really have a single episode where he got to be front and center. Boyle got a few good moments but, like I said, Game of Boyles wasn't even really a big Charles showcase episode. I think his best episode was Blue Flu. The season really felt more lead centric on Jake, Holt, and Amy. Again, I feel this was mainly because of the fact that the policing story took up half the season and there wasn't really enough room in the rest of the season for the others to be showcased. As a result we didn't get any real detective episodes, no Pimento episode, no Vulture return, no return of Jake and Amy's parents etc... all of which could have been fun.

I feel like I have pointed out the issues I had with the season quite a bit, mainly because the show has set such high standards for seasons past. The episodes are still ranging from decent to really good. I don't think there is any episode that comes as an all time B99 classic in this season, but there isn't any real bad episodes either. So its still a solid season, which brings us to the finale.

The finale was fantastic and I loved every aspect of it barring one specific element. I think the showrunners made the right call by knowing what the show is good at and making a true lighthearted romp as the final two episodes. The heist is just too important a tradition for the show not to happen and it feels appropriate that the show ended on a grand heist. The finale did an incredible job incorporating so many guest stars seamlessly. I also loved that Gina got to come back in a substantial role in the finale. Given how big a part she was in the show, it was only right that she was there at the very end. Almost every key relationship got some great moments. Jake and Amy had some heartfelt moments, Amy and Rosa had a lovely moment, Jake and Charles had a great friendship moment. The only relationship I would have liked another scene with is Jake and Rosa, which is probably my favorite male/female friendship on any show. Loved that Terry gets to be Captain, which he deserves. But in the end, the heart of this show has always been the relationship between Holt and Jake. The final scene between them at the precinct is played completely straight and it absolutely brilliant acting from both Andre Braugher and Andy Samberg. It got me really teary and emotional. But wisely, the show ends on an upbeat note which makes you feel good that these people will always be in each other's lives. I also hope they use the notion of a heist to give us a holiday heist special every once in a while. I would love that.

The one element I don't like is Jake resigning and becoming a stay at home dad. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with being a stay at home Dad or Mom. It just doesn't make sense for me for Jake. I think everybody saw hints that he was going to leave the NYPD, and I was ok with that, and I love the fact that the show used Jake's want to be a father as the basis of his departure because that makes sense for him as a character, but I just don't seem him being happy just as a stay at home dad, no matter how sweet that sentiment is. Andy Samberg doesn't get enough praise with how he sells emotional sincerity, but just two episodes prior, Jake was moaning about how he was incredibly bored during his suspension and how he was desperate for interaction to the point of going to the Boyle house for distraction. On top of that, he admitted to being really bummed that he was unable to catch Franzia himself. It just doesn't seem like he would be happy being away from a life without investigations to keep his mind working. Investigating wasn't just something he did just to earn money, he genuinely loved it. I would have felt better if he said he was going to join Rosa as a PI or start his own PI business. Just a one liner saying that he would do something which would continue his passion while still being able to be there for Mac as a parent. It also gave me an uncomfortable callback to my least favorite episode of the show, Casecation, where Jake was mocked when he argued that having a child might compromise their jobs which they both loved and Amy argued that getting promoted would allow her more control over her hours. And now we are at the finale and Jake's argument was completely right and in the end Jake is compromising on his professional career for Amy. There is no doubt in my mind that Jake would have wanted to continue being a detective and a father were it not for the specific circumstances. Jake choosing his family and Amy is no surprise, but I doubt that would have been his preference. On a more practical note, it is not even remotely believable that a couple with a small child living in Brooklyn can survive on a single income, even if Amy is a Chief. I am absolutely certain that the original endgame was for him to join the FBI. They introduced that idea at the beginning of season 7 for a reason. I think it got torpedoed because of the rewrite of the season arc. I like to headcanon that Jake got back to doing investigating on some level because its a shame if he isn't able to use his natural talents to use.

Anyways, the season overall isn't the home run I hoped it would be but given the circumstances, they did a pretty solid job. It isn't necessarily the season I would revisit as much on rewatch but it still delivers the heart and humor that we love from the show. A 7/10 for me. Like Jake said, goodbyes are inherently sad but the show has had a good run and I am glad its getting to go out on its own terms. I will miss this cast together and I really hope they all find success and I can follow them to other films and tv shows. So lets give it up for the cast and crew. One last time, NINE-NINE!

#b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #raymond holt #jake peralta #terry jeffords #amy santiago #rosa diaz #charles boyle #gina linetti #andre braugher #andy samberg #melissa fumero #terry crews #stephanie beatriz #joe lo truglio #chelsea peretti #peraltiago #b99 spoilers #pimento #teddy wells #joanna newsom

[abeingfromnothingness]

Anthropocene

(This is a short story to help with visualizing -this- idea don't take it way too seriously. You can make your own version of the idea if you want.)

Shoutout to @marlynnofmany "accidentaly human" series for inspiring this idea

@niqhtlord01 @dycefic @starr-fall-knight-rise for their great stories which are used as inspiration

@whereartthoubromeo this is for you

And the humans are weird community here

_________________________________________

Humans, when you hear that word what do you usualy think it describes?

More often than not it describes these hairless unasuming bipeds, they naturally have no magic abilities, traits or anything noteworthy except for being sexually compatible with all races but that all changed when a human named wudolf suon made a discovery that changed how we see these dissapointing apes.

-----------------------‐---‐-------------‐---------------------------

Wudolf was like every other human in his village normal and boring except for a select few with magical potential through familial ties. His parents were magicaly potent but he himself was not, he was enroled into the best academy there by scholarships his parents paid for using money acumulated during their adventuring days with a group who saved the world, this was to help him learn magic.

Most humans were often bullied for being weak and pathetic magic casters but wudolf got the most bulliying due to the fact he has little no magic potential, so during his freetime he experimented ways to forcefully give himself magical powers or disabling it from others.

One fatefull night during one of his experiments he got into an accident thankfully or should i say unfortunately he survived and gained magic powers like he wanted though ever since that day all magical creatures that stand near him always felt slightly uneasy, to the point no one makes any friends with him except human friends, they never felt what the rest of the students described, at the end of the day he didn't care as long as he can use magic now.

Whenever wudolf tries to cast a spell it never seems to work the first time then the next day he suddenly can do it perfectly though there was something a bit off about the aura, whenever he is questioned how he did it he always replied "i don't know it just... gave itself to me i guess".

Over the course of the semester his power kept growing, the range where magical creatures felt uneasy also increases, every magic fight he entered always resulted in him winning every single time with little to no harm done to him with most magical beings attending feeling unwell and a few humans having a faint headache.

The principal suspected something strange was happening but didn't care because of wudolf helping the academy acumulate many tournament trophies, one day the principal got an anonymous tip about wudolf practicing forbiden magic with a picture of wudolf reading a mysterious book, it is suspected that the ones who sent the anonymous tip were jealous students but whoever that sent it just opened pandora's box.

Wudolf and his parents were called into the principals office one day to discuss about his dabling with the forbiden arts, of course wudolf is innocent but any mention about the dabling in forbiden arts are treated with zero tolerance.

Wudolf tries and pleads innocence but the principal doesn't bellive him after the many months of accumulated reports from many students feeling uneasy around him and only him though no human students ever complained which proves he wasn't using forbiden arts, but was ruled out for the reason that "humans have difficulty with magic" so he was kicked out and ran away into the wilderness never to be seen again.

A month has passed when suddenly a figure wearing a carved out dragon head and a cloak made of dragon skin attacked the village, a group of heroes consisting of a human mage, an elf archer, an orc barbarian, and a dragonborn paladin confronts the figure in front of them standing amongst rubble of a ruined square.

"Ah, i assume you are one of this vilage's groups of heroes am i correct?" The figure speaks though slightly muffled and distorted by the head they are wearing.

"That is correct and you should leave or else we'll strike you down even killing you if we have to." The dragonborn exclaims

"Well i should say the same way to beings such as yourselves, except you human" the figure points at the suprised mage

"What do you want from me?" The human exclaimed.

"It's pretty obvious, You and other humans"

the orc stands infront of the mage

"you no hurt little buddy!"

The figure laughs "hurt? Oh no no no, let's just say 'under my care' it's not like orcs such as you can show kindness, the only thing you know is being a big brutish pushover who values an ally by stength so let me place us at an even footing" with a snap of a finger the orc suddenly collapses on to their back

"Gear. Too. Heavy."

"What did you do!?" The paladin shouted getting the attention of the figure "i already told you what i did, i placed us in an even footing, i made them 'human' so to speak"

the group turns to the orc waiting for some sort of transformation to happen but nothing happened.

"I don't know what you did but i will shoot you down from your mountain!" The elf taunts preparing a shot

"Granny, stop being mad, else you'll wither away faster, here let me help you take a well deserved break from this adventuring buisness." With another snap the elf expected to suddenly feel heavier which is why they aimed higher than usual, what waited for them was something else other than an increase in weight.

Their hair starts to grey, their vision starts to blur, their limbs slowly feel weak, the arrow that was fired was deflected effortlessly by the sturdy dragon scales of the figure's cloak.

"Your gravity and aging magic won't work on me, prepare to be brought justice." The dragonborn paladin exclaimed triumphantly

"Justice? Ha, after your kind's scally egotistical reign on many other regions especialy what one of you kept on doing to me and my friends during my student years, i'd beg to differ. let me serve you your just deserts master." The paladin prepares a breath attack but with a snap the dragonborn suddenly falls on their knee puking with their scales turning pale.

The figure looms menacingly "how the mighty have fallen. You know, your reaction reminded me of a dragon that i encountered, you all are wondering why suddenly there seems to be little to no dragon sightings?" What the figure says is true, for whatever reason no dragons have shown up for the past few weeks eventhough this area is known for many dragons in hiding, this never happened until a certain scholar was expeled and was never seen again.

"Let's just say i returned a long overdue debt. Of course i am not an idiot so i cut some loose ends one being a problem now and four more in the future, how did you think i got this attire, and survived?"

"You...monster" the dragonborn replies through their nausea

"A monster huh? how ironic especialy coming from a cousin of the species that did so without care to us lesser species." "Fireball!" The mage casts a spell which quickly dissipates instantly a feet away from the figure, the remaining heat catches the figure's attention "pathetic, now, time to deal with you my buddy ol'pal marcus." Marcus taken aback "w-wudolf!?"

Wudolf raises the ex-hatchling's maw revealing a familiar face with a very noticable change. "Hello marcus, it has been a while huh?"

Marcus draws in magic to prepare a spell "Look, whatever malicious god or being that is passively controling you, i will save you even if it results in any of our deaths."

Wudolf laughs "a malicious entity is that your conclusion of what happened to me?" Marcus nods in confirmation. "Well i can't blame you due to it being a common occurence to people like me and the fact that i was expeled due to being accused of such things, but allow me to show you OUR power." Marcus tries to cast a spell but nothing happened and he was then hit by a powerful force sending him flying into a wall, marcus tries again...nothing happened and he was hit by a blast sending him to the ground, he is starting to have a headaches. Wudolf prepares a large spear made off whatever magic he is using and throws it. Frusturated marcus tries and block it, and succedes creating a shield with the same magic wudolf is using, he falls down fatigued. "What was that i just did!?" Marcus stared at his hand in awe of what he has done, so does his teamates.

Wudolf stands there satisfied "i already told you, it is OUR power. Let me ask you a question." Wudolf summons ropes to bind each hero down. "Have you wondered what makes an art forbiden?"

Marcus was about to answer. "Don't worry i know what you'll answer and yes with the same reason of it being a common occurence but maybe, it is to stop instances of overpowering." "What do you mean by that?"

Wudolf smiles a little and starts walking around "well remember that day when i got into an accident?" Marcus nods remembering that day clearly. "when i recovered, i suddenly have the abillity to cast magic which was slowly growing more powerful with a side effect at the time i brushed of as miniscule. I then became our academy's champion winning several magic tournanent throphies which are null and void by now considering what happened last month. Did you ever notice how weird that after my 5th win in a row i was suddenly accused of practicing the forbiden arts which was treated with instant expultion?" Marcus pipes up "well yeah and we even found the sender of the annonymous tip who was a half-dragon that was jealous of you and used your weird unsetling aura as proof of forbiden magic possesion. So yeah i feel really sorry for you." "I can understand that too. Anyway, during my time out there i practiced my new found magic to find out what element it is and maybe who it was bestowed to me. Well the answer is very suprising, it's nothing and it is in fact OUR own natural magic."

Marcus wide eyed in shock "you are telling me that we were supposed to have our own magic abilities and what do you mean by it's nothing? It's magic, it's got to be something." Wudolf turns sharply to face Marcus "That's the thing, our magic comes from absolute nothing though now it's more of a something that is revealed within the absence of natural magic. With this knowledge i posses and now you too, i will bring our kind the justice we all deserve after many years living under fear of these creatures. I will create a world where they can never hurt us, one way or another, a libberation of you will."

Marcus finally has the strength to stand up "dude, i know your intention and it is a good one, but there's got to be a better way than a mass genocide, we can still live with each other side by side and yes we may be feared of but still, it is way better than extermination. You probably know this, so have a little bit of humani-" a large spike of energy pierces marcus' stomach sending him to a critical condition, this is followed by ropes of energy binding him. "You still don't get it do you. Maybe i need a larger example and suprisingly, (Wudolf creates an extra dimensional portal and pulls out a modified trumpet bearing a flag of a kingdom.) I do." He blows into it and a large portal appears that leads to the front of a kingdom "my own design if you are wondering." standing behind them is a king with an army of people from various ages standing behind them, far off behind them there seems to be a walled of kingdom with the wall having visible signs of damage as well as a huge area that was lost. From the wide and deep claw marks covering the wall to the massive bloodstain it is safe to assume that a massive creature had attacked not too long ago. Wudolf aproaches the king "ah mister wudolf let me guess, your friend?" The king says to him in a casual manner. "Yes though now more of an obstacle. Really hoped for them to join our cause." The king chuckles "happens to most of us. Well then, it is time for us to do a full sweep to recruit soldiers and exterminate these pests. It's funny how one day we were the most pathetic race to ever existed and then the next, eldritch monsters capable of crippling massive beasts with a glare." They both laugh at the thought while men and women storm the village.

-----‐-‐-----------------------------------------------------------

This was several years ago and since that time we started the rebelion, many creatures against these humans now called as (homo sapinihilis) courtesy of our (homo sapien) friends.

We also discovered these mushrooms that create a zone of replenishing mana which allows us access to magic while engaging those things.

We have reports of from our scouts that the "nihilistums" are developing a bomb to wipe everyone from existance.

Now it is your job to stop them, don't worry we have an adventuring group ready for you

#humans are weird #humans are weird + fantasyland #fantasy

[cybernaght]

The Rebel/叛逆者: A Review of Sorts

After being only semi-invested in the Rebel, I ended up getting so into it in the final weeks of its release, I’ve shelled out on IQIYI premium just to get the final couple of episodes a few days earlier.

That’s right kids, it’s a Review of Sorts. Unfortunately, I could not find a translation of the novella the drama is based on, so will be looking at it as a separate entity. 

Most of this post is spoiler-free, however I have dedicated a few paragraphs at the end of it to discussing the final episode, as there are a few specific things about it I wanted to mention. There is a clear spoiler warning before that part.

If you don’t want to risk it, TL;DR version of this review goes something like this: Rebel is very decent, and positively one of the best things that I have seen to come out of China since I’ve jumped into that particular rabbit hole. It’s pretty well written, it’s very beautifully dressed and shot, and the cast is killing it. I thought it dropped the ball a little in post production, and I did not always love the pacing. Other than that, it’s incredibly decent, and well worth watching, unless communist propaganda really irks you, in which case stay very well away. 

I have been having many conversations with @supernovasimplicity​ all the way through watching this drama, so there are likely to be some thoughts here that are influenced by those. 

The story centers around Lin Nansheng, a struggling servicemen in the Guomingdang party. He has a great analytical mind, and absolutely no emotional capacity for his job. He has trouble handling violence, he is impulsive, he cannot speak to his superiors without bursting into tears, and has nothing even remotely resembling a poker face. And that is what makes this drama as enjoyable as it is. 

I don’t think Lin Nansheng’s journey would have been nearly as exciting had he started it from a place of competence. He botches up everything he touches because his big brain switches off the moment his emotions kick in. And so, when you see him grow in confidence, learn to control himself, learn to fake his smiles and compliments, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. It also makes Lin Nansheng very likeable as a character for reasons other than Zhu Yilong’s ability to look like a bush baby.

It did take me a while to feel fully engaged with his performance - not because there is anything lacking in it, but just because it’s hard to be truly surprised by his choices after the exposure I have given myself to his work. That said, at about a half-way point I got charmed by him anyway, and there were quite a few scenes that were truly mesmerising. There were scenes where he broke out of the familiar mould of big unguarded eyes and fluttering wet eyelashes, and tried something that was not pretty: every time to a great success. I am hoping to see more of that in his future work. 

I really wanted to like the female lead, Zhu Yizhen, but unfortunately both the way she was written and the way she was performed by Tong Yao left me somewhat cold. It did not help of course that the screenplay ended up sidelining her at every turn, leaving her with very little personal agency. She was set up so interestingly, but in the end her sole purpose became being someone for Lin Nansheng to pine over. It is particularly curious from a perspective of meta storytelling: seeing how this is all centered around superiority of communism, which as a whole was, arguably, ahead of its time in the matters of binary gender equality.

The ensemble cast of the drama is stunning. Wang Yang came very close to  stealing the show at several points as Chen Moqun, somehow managing to make his rather unlikeable character interesting. I can say the same thing about Zhu Zhu who absolutely shined as Lin Xinjie, showing an incredible range and imagination in her performance.

The overarching story of the show is engaging, with some incredibly suspenseful elements; every narrative arc including a nice progression through it. As spy thrillers go, it was fairly well plotted. You could if you go looking for a few things that did not pay off in a satisfying way (notably, the Chekhov’s cyanide capsule), but you overall the story really was well told for the most of it. 

I did, however, feel like the pacing started to fall apart in the last quarter of the drama. Last episode in particular really did feel rushed, not just due to its pace, but also in a way it failed to pay off the final mission in any visible way. There will be more on that in the spoiler section of this post.

Important to note that The Rebel is a show made in Communist China in the year 2021. It does not ideologically side-step from the path that was laid out for it by that fact. Which is to say, it is, undeniably, filled with propaganda. Communists are the good guys, and if you think a good guy (or gal) is not a communist, they probably secretly are. With one exception of a friendly character who is not a communist, and whose fate we actually never find out. Curious, that. 

The Rebel is not a kind of a show where censorship-appeasing scenes are shoehorned in. It’s a kind of a show in which the main theme is Sacrifice For the Party.

Aside from the being the moral vector of the show, Mao’s gentle teachings explicitly help get Ling Nansheng out of prolonged depression following his injury, and almost annoyingly, this sat incredibly well with the character, as he was written. Lin Nansheng is conceived as this naive idealist who wants to be on the front line, who needs validation and support of others. His - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - his being disillusioned in his beliefs and choosing to join a party which includes people whom he likes and trusts makes sense. Him finding this one thing that gives him hope and letting it propel him into gaining confidence and competence makes sense. 

In many ways, the Rebel is a story of Lin Nansheng’s failure to become an antagonist within the world of the drama.

I have honestly spent this past couple of weeks pondering whether being well written makes political propaganda better or worse, whether the subtlety of it makes it more or less palatable, whether it’s enough, as a viewer, to be aware of it to shrug it off. Ultimately, this is not something I could or should make moral judgements on, but I do believe that it’s possible to acknowledge the fact that propaganda exists in the drama, and still appreciate it for a good piece of television that it is. 

That said, I am very well aware that me being kind of okay with it stems entirely from my own removal from the culture this is made in, and I am, perhaps, lucky to even have a choice as to whether I want to engage with a product which is, undoubtably, here to dress political ideology in fancy clothes.

I have, on the other hand, also seen many things in Russian media of the “Annexation of Crimea is Good Actually” variety and those make me feel very unwell, so feeling somewhat at ease with blatant political propaganda in Chinese media makes me the biggest hypocrite.

But, I digress.

Before we go into some specific plot-related things, I would like to mention that the Rebel has this weird dichotomy in which the production is sublime, and the post-production… not so much. The show very well shot. Every element of it sits perfectly together, not a single prop out of place, not a single extra underdressed, not a page of script not put to good use. It’s lit to perfection. It’s scored beautifully. So much of this show is just stunning.

And then… there is post-production. 

This is not even about bad CGI (and the CGI is, indeed, bad), it’s just that most of post-production as a whole feels rushed.

Starting with surprisingly imperfect editing, which at times just fails to make the scene flow together. The final line of dialogue would be spoken within a scene, and it would fade to black instantly without a single breath to indicate a full stop. A montage sequence would be created, but every shot within it condensed to a second, making it feel incredibly fast-paced when the effect should be the opposite. There would be a cut away from a speaking character and to the same speaking character from a slightly different angle, making it dynamic without any reason to do so. There are a couple of truly startling jump-cuts.

I did not speed this gif up. This is part of a romantic montage, edited like it’s a goddamn action sequence.

And of course dear old friend slowing down footage shot at 24FPS. Please don’t do this. You think no one notices - but we do.

There are other tell-tale signs of production rushing to the finish line: occasional, but very noticeable ADR glitches, very sloppy job done at sound mixing, which contribute to parts of the show feeling ever so slightly off.

It’s not unforgivable, but it does make me wish the same amount of care and efforts that went into shooting this drama would also go into it after it was all in the can. 

Oh, and just because if you know me you know I have a professional fixation on fights, and I am happy to say most action scenes are toe-curlingly delightful. Hot damn those fights are good. I am absolutely in love with the shot below, for example. Placing an actor behind a piece of set so he can exchange places with the stunt double during a one shot is such an old trick, but the execution, timing and camerawork are just... flawless. This is what perfection looks like.

Now we got all that out of the way...

SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE BELOW

Here’s the thing. I wanted to love the ending and I found that I could not.

The final mission was presented as important, and honestly the scene in which Zhu Yizhen is sending the vital message out as Lin Nansheng holds his ground in hand to hand fight is incredibly dynamic. Party, this is due to the fight itself being incredibly well choreographed, yes, but it’s also where it sits within the narrative, how high the stakes are for everything surrounding it. 

But then, the tension all but bleeds out. The Important Message is sent, the fight is won, and we are treated to ten minutes of a very slow car chase, problem of which is not even its speed as much as its placing within the story. As in, by this point both of those operatives have lost their cover, and completed their Very Important Mission. It would be very sad if they died, but their survival does not technically contribute to their cause. Moreover, Zhu Yizhen getting mortally injured in order to protect Lin Nansheng as part of her mission read a little empty when the mission is technically over. 

While I personally found Lin Nansheng slow recuperation and his low key ending enjoyable, I think I would have preferred to have seen a more tangible pay-off to all the sacrifices made in the name of “bright communist future”, just a little more justification for every moment of death and despair we witnessed. I would have certainly at the very least preferred to see Wang Shi’an’s death on screen. Considering how many likeable characters martyred themselves on screen, denying us the death of the one antagonist just seemed cruel. 

I really did love the ambiguity of the final few scenes however, if we consider the children choir at the end a fantasy. The idea that Lin Nansheng will live out his life in this hope that Zhu Yizhen is still alive, imagining her just outside of his field of vision, his only joy being in this fantasy of her… now, that is incredibly strong. I equally like the idea of rest being promised to him at the end of his journey, and said rest being painful, and slow and unwelcome.

But it felt like as they chose not to to lean into the “sweet” part of the bitter-sweet tone of the ending and we’re unable not commit to the “bitter” part either, so it lands with a splat which is somewhat lacklustre. 

---

This concludes my thoughts on the Rebel. 

I am more or less out of Zhu Yilong’s filmography to watch, which is probably a good thing at this point. I have just emerged out of several back to back work projects - literally today - and will hopefully once more have time for things I grew to enjoy doing during the lockdown. 

Those things, if you have not guessed, include watching Chinese television and writing things about Chinese television. 

#the rebel #叛逆者 #Zhu Yilong #review of sorts #now with gifs #chinese drama

[mainviper]

can you do a soviper hc with a cute moment after a mission which one of them tried to save another? pls

Am I late ? Yes! Did I wrote this after seing @ad-1812 art on Soviper ? Yes! Was it worth it ? You tell me, anon...

Sova x Viper - Undercover

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Brimstone signed them on for the mission, Sova didn't think it would be so easy to forget her goal, but by the time Viper entered the room, her focus had shifted completely.

In another universe, who knows, this date would really happen ... She would be wearing the same black dress and he would be in the same dark suit that favored him so much (at least that's what Killjoy said while passing him the lens to camouflage his bionic eye).

The initiator took a deep breath, but regretted it as soon as he did, because the controller 's scent quickly provoked him, mocking his feelings and making him thirsty.

Viper on the other hand was extremely focused, not daring to look at her colleague. Avoiding any kind of contact as much as possible and wondering if she would be able to end the night without regretting having agreed to this farce.

- Let's go over the information, Viper.

- We are a couple of investors, celebrating our anniversary and big fans of Mr. K.

- Sabine, try not to mention how stupid you think that nickname is.

- I think he's completely stupid and despicable, but that's okay I'll do my best.

- That's how I like it! Sova?

- The plan is to talk to him long enough to listen to the meeting he will have later with the scientists from the Kingdom.

- And if everything goes wrong ? Viper ?

- We call you.

- Without fighting back?

- Without fighting back.

- I'll let you finish getting ready and then I'll take you to the restaurant.

The door closed and they fell into comfortable silence. Viper tried to understand the things Killjoy and Raze had prepared them to wear and while she read, she fixed her snake earrings and Sova checked if they weren’t forgetting anything. The fact that the domestic scene sounded so familiar to both of them didn’t go unnoticed, seeing the woman beside him hand over his fake ring was also painfully ironic.

For the first time, she turned and Sova could see her back fully exposed, this was already becoming torture. A chill went up his body, like a danger signal, forcing him to shake his head to avoid any inappropriate thoughts. His blood froze when he heard what she said next :

- Do you trust me ?

This was not what he expected, not by far. Perhaps a sarcastic comment or warning, but that question caught him off guard.

-Y-Yes.

- We’re about to enter a building completely guarded by Kingdom, even if it looks like a fancy restaurant on the roof of a building: Make no mistake.

- Right.

- We will not have any kind of communication with the outside, as soon as we enter we will leave our wiretaps aside. They will search us, they are suspicious of everything and everyone, so don’t mention specific things or the name of anyone in the protocol at any time.

- And how are we going to call for backup?

She turned to him, there was a certain irritation in her eyes but also a certain fear. Oh. They wouldn't call for backup. The two had to work together or they could die.

- It’s the safest way for the protocol and I know that an important meeting like this cannot come that easy for us.

Sova knew that the information was essential for the end of this war between worlds, to obtain answers and to help in the researches that Valorant did.

- We need a subject then, a goal for this dinner.

Viper smiled, knowing that the hunter would never let her down. The two had this strange dynamic of always knowing what the other need, whether on the battlefield or on the way to death at a fatal dinner.

- Yes, forget that happy couple thing. We need something credible and that will excuse the attention of anyone who tries to listen to us.

- What if it was the opposite ?

- A couple who hate each other? Interesting.

- Tired of each other ...

- Keeping the flame burning in the midst of discussions ...

This time the initiator smiled, perhaps enjoying the make-believe too much. They had little time and so they walked to the door together, discussing their past and false present.

- And how you love to make me suffer.

° • °

They went down a block behind the Hotel where the dinner was to take place. One of the entrances led to the kitchen and the other to the hall. Upon entering the building, the two kept only to their cell phones. Discarding almost all of the equipment where the kitchen was. Viper took care to hide them well without any of the employees seeing, Sova made sure to identify all the cameras and prepare the way so that both could leave without any suspicion.

Brim immediately realized that none of the agents' audio outputs were working and called the controller. Viper thought about hanging up, but they were already getting into the elevator and needed to get into the characters.

- Mr. Bryant! How are you ?

- Sofia please, you promised.

Sova said in an irritated tone, squeezing her waist as a warning. How did his hand got there? Why did it seem so natural? And how she couldn't feel irritated by this sudden liberty? 

- Calm down, I have everything under control and as soon as I can, I’ll send you. We just need to ... review some things in the contract.

She hung up the phone and apologized saying that she couldn't help but answer her boss. Sova snorted, causing her to look at him. God, it would be a long night...The elevator operator seemed curious about the story, especially when he heard:

- Keeping people waiting is what you usually do, Sofia, I don't think it's that hard.

Oh, that was low. She smiled at him falsely, facing danger head-on. Sova swallowed and a lapse of insecurity appeared in his eyes. Had he gone too far?

- Patience is a gift, dear.

The tension between the two was enough to make the operator look away. Viper exited the elevator, parading towards the restaurant, lost in thought and trying to regain some control. Sova took a deep breath before following her, mesmerized for a brief moment by the cleavage. That woman would be his death, for sure.

°•°

Mr. K was sitting in the back of the restaurant, a completely despicable and indecent man who authorized the experiments in Omen, who didn't care who but how much. He had met her as an intern, the young Sabine who worked in ward 236 with a uniform that covered her face and made her just one more genius among the others he hired.

Sova also had reasons for hating the man, after all, he was the one who evicted his poor babushka from his family's hut. And now even if more comfortable in the city, she keeps complaining about missing the fresh air and the remains of her father that were buried on that floor. Mr. K knew exactly what he was doing because a week before he came into her house and had dinner with the food that his grandmother had prepared with such affection, if Sova had been there that night he would have finished with the man right there.

°•°

Until the appetizers were served, everything was going well, they talked and irritated each other all the time. But their waiter... A poor, inexperienced recruit from Kingdom who took too long to serve the wine. 

Sova's napkin "fell" and a small device caught his attention, he quickly got up and signaled to Viper, that touched the bottom of the table and quickly stopped as soon as she felt what it was about.

From then on, another conversation started between them. Much more aggressive and quick, between their eyes and being ignored by everyone around. The device that captured what THEY were saying was something expected but added a certain insecurity to their hearts. Was tha plan still on board? They had to wait patiently for the right moment to strike, and continued to speak in the midst of the initial panic.

- It seems like you can go more than ten minutes without looking at your cell phone. (Sova's eyes subtly signaled the man looking at the clock across the room)

- Ha-ha how funny, I'm rolling on the floor laughing. Tell me Boris, how long did you rehearse this joke? (Viper scanned the surroundings trying to check if something weird was going on)

- Long enough to see your beautiful smile ... I believe it worked. (She stared at him, dead serious and raised an eyebrow in defiance.)

The same waiter returned with the main course. On the other side of the room, Mr. K got up to go to the bathroom and they knew that the opportunity was unique to put the tracker on him. Her phone rang and she thanked Brim for the perfect timing.

- You won't answer. (For a brief moment she thought he meant it, that it was a warning about something she hadn't noticed. A need to counter it, however, came to her.)

- It’s important. (She answered looking at the waiter who was taking too long to serve them and signaled him to hurry up.)

- Sofia! (He was irritated, indignant and perplexed by her calmness. Not only that, she raised her hand to stop him speaking. Sova was reaching his limit, the man could leave at any moment and their chances would be lost.)

From the outside he just looked like a husband indignant at not receiving attention from his workaholic wife. They were buying this idea, because "Sofia” had casually crossed her arms and completely ignored the man in front of her still talking on the phone. On the other side of the line, Brim just pretended to understand all that bureaucracy that the agent spoke and agreed to, repeating a few words.

The Russian's blood boiled and after seven and a half minutes without getting her to return to attention he decided to take the reins of the situation and marched to the bathroom irritated.When he arrived at the men's room, he was faced with a grotesque scene. Mr. K, leaning over one of the toilets, putting out all the appetizers he had eaten.

- Are you okay, sir ...?

His response was another wave of vomiting that seemed to go on forever. Sova took the small device from his pocket and easily put it on the man's collar as he tried in vain to help him. When he pushed the agent away it was too late, the tracker was already in position.

- I-I’ll call someone to take you to the hospital, sir.

An even worse noise came from the man, seeing as a positive response, Sova walked over to his table without paying attention to Viper. She disconnected the call and holded his arm.

- What happened ?

- There's a man, sick in the bathroom. I think it's best to talk to his companions about ...

She agreed. Letting him go alone, watching the desperation on the faces (even the waiter) when they all went to the man's rescue. Predictable. In the midst of the confusion, they didn’t notice that they had left all their belongings aside, nor did they suspect when she approached the table and placed a small device in the wallet of Samuel Kingdom, nor did they notice the trackers that she managed to fit in at least three men who ran past her.

Her "husband" came up supporting the target, helping him return to his table and staring at her all the time. A chill went up her spine when he finally sat in front of her, loosening his tie a little and removing his jacket. Sova was a little breathless, scared but apparently satisfied. Viper looked at the main course, looked at the man in front of her and made a decision.

- Tired, dear? I love it when you save the day...

Sova grunted, almost losing the little patience he had left and closed his eyes thinking about how happy he would be to take out the anger at his training the next day. He almost took a bite, but stopped in the middle of the path when he felt Viper's foot caressing his right leg. In the eye of chaos, at a almost ruined mission, she managed to find another way to frustrate him. it took all the strength he had not to get out of there and take a cold shower, it would have to be freezing to make him calm down.

- Sofia. I swear to God that if you keep doing this ...

Teasing the hunter was one of her favorite hobbies, but her real intention was to get rid of that annoying recruit who continued to spy on them both.

- Doing what? 

Unbelievable. Could it be that the woman couldn't feel an ounce of compassion for his situation? The last hour was the most tense of his life, all the worry and calculation that the two did, didn’t seem to matter, he risked everything for her, directly disobeyed Brim's orders and all of this didn't even come close to how frustrated he felt for not even being able to touch her as he wanted.

And how he desired her was no secret, the lust in his gaze was nowhere near the thirst he felt  every day and night. His feelings at the top of his skin being made fun of and being part of a circus.

- I pay the bill, meet me on the stairs next to the elevator.

Oh oh. He was so lost in thought that he had only noticed at that moment the predatory look that the scientist had.

- Let me just finish the dish, I'm hungry.

- Me too.

Without raising any suspicion, even from her partner she managed to hide a knife in her purse. There was just one more thing left ... Boris got up asking for the bill to be brought and went to the indicated place, taking a sip from the wine glass and leaving his plate untouched. Everything happened very quickly, he went out to the Hall on the floor and realized that someone was following him. The sound of footsteps was not that familiar high heels and it seemed much more urgent than it should have. He was unarmed and had promised Viper that under no circumstances would he call anyone. With no way out, he turned to see the waiter who was serving them.

- Who are you and who do you work for?

The boy looked scared but determined, his hand was shaking as he held the Ghost.

- I don’t know what you're talking about.

- Don’t lie! 

God, the boy was almost screaming. What would they threaten to do to him if he was unable to finish the job? Sova opened his mouth to speak, to try to argue anything, but it was too late. Blood was already running down the boy's throat as he fell at his feet. In front of him, Viper held the dinner knife, she took a handkerchief from her bag, sprayed a liquid and wiped it, leaving it beside her body.

- Thank you.

She held out her hand to him, the two went down the stairs, crossed the top floor and returned to the restaurant to take the elevator without raising suspicion.

The same elevator man was waiting for them, curious to know how the couple's night would end. Sova smiled at the operator and hugged his "wife", trying to forget the situation a little.

- Someone is needy today...

If the sarcastic comment hadn't been followed by a kiss on his neck, he might be able to formulate an answer. His hands instinctively squeezed her bare back, pulling her close and making room for just a gasp in response.

* PLIM *

The elevator arrived and they left without speaking. The operator nodded and winked at him, showing his thumb as a sign of pure approval. 

Even after hearing Brim's scolding, the two remained silent on the way back to Headquarters and both went to their rooms without saying goodbye.

At least, that's what Sova thought.

He lingered in the shower, thinking about how Viper managed to be calculating in the most tense moments. He put the water as cold as possible to get her out of his head, but the events of the night were flashing back in his mind. Still wrapped in the towel, he recognized the perfume and turned on the light.

- Since the lobster was poisoned, I decided to bring you a- oh.

Poisoned? How did she know the lobster was poisoned? Why the hell did she suggest that he order that dish then? So that was the reason for her calmness, she knew the man would run into the bathroom because Mr. K also ordered the lobster, and she annoyed him to almost lost his mind just to keep it undercover... 

Sova had so many questions and they all died when he saw Sabine's flushed face. Was the all-powerful and controlled Viper speechless when she saw him shirtless?

- May I know how you got here?

He said heading towards his closet with no intention of drying off halfway. He took a while, trying to give back the torture he had suffered in the last few months ... He didn't get an answer, but he also didn't know if he wanted to.

- I have to thank you for saving me, but I'm not sure if I should because you almost poisoned me, am I right, Sabine?

The controller's mind was blank. The only thing she could conceive of was the existence of the man in front of her. Okay, she also wore a nightgown with a clear intention of provoking him and keeping him waiting again, but she was tired of walking away, of avoiding contact, of not being able to fully enjoy him.

- Eat first, thank me later.

Was all she was able to say. He laughed and moved closer and closer to her, taking the plate from her hands and placing it on the table in front of the window. This was already getting ridiculous in her opinion, but he really needed to eat so he asked her to wait and put his pajamas in the bathroom.

- So tell me...

His phrase died there, the passionate kiss was everything he hoped for and better than he dreamed. His hands were holding the woman in front of him to make sure it was really happening. The two pulled away abruptly for air, Sova smiled and Viper had an expression of astonishment that was almost comical..

- I-I don't know what came over me!

Sova went to the table stupidly happy with the situation and opened the package with the hamburger. She was still standing in the middle of the room and he contemplated his effect on her, deciding to give her time to get used to the idea.

- I should have let you eat the lobster.

Her voice was a little hoarse. She sat across from him, waiting for him to finish the meal. Sova bit the bread, but stopped in the middle of the way to feel Viper's foot caressing his right leg. This time he wouldn't wait.

This time he was not going to be frustrated.

#sova #viper #oneshot #undercover #anon ask #soviper #valorant #valorant sova #valorant viper #this is probably going to ao3 #i'm so tired ans sleepy but i finally finished it

[imaginethatneathuh]

The Fool: Game Boy - American Gods

Game Boy x partner!reader, romantic

Game Boy plays a game with you.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop.

TW/CW: None that I can think of.

Word count: 2.0+ K

•

After a long day at work you were relieved to not have to do anything else today. As soon as you got home, you said to yourself, it’s nap time. Sadly, or maybe happily, things didn’t work out that way.

As you stepped into the small, shared flat, you sighed and rolled your neck. Wordlessly, you walked to the kitchen and got some water, tossing your keys on the counter.

You had been on your feet all day; the only thing on your mind was a shower and bed. As you drank, water falling from the corners of your mouth, you noticed there was silence about the house. There was never silence unless your long-term partner, Game Boy was gone. Setting your cup down, you walk around the counters and cabinets that split the living room and kitchen. You stopped at the edge and peered in, hands on hips. With a frown, you tilted your head before walking into the living room, still in your barista uniform.

“Game Boy?” You called in the empty flat. “You here?”

After a long string of silence, you moved closer to the sofa and placed your hands on top of it.

It wasn’t peculiar that Game was gone, just odd that he hadn’t said anything before. He had always told you beforehand so you wouldn’t worry. This time, you supposed, he’d failed to mention his absence. Still, a part of you thought he may be elsewhere in the flat.

As he didn’t answer you, you began to search for him. He wasn’t in the bathroom and you doubted he was in the communal laundry room. Despite knowing that he certainly wasn’t in your room, you still checked. Predictably, he wasn’t there, but you did decide to change into something more comfortable.

With nowhere else to look, you knocked on his room’s door and opened it. It was empty. Gaming equipment, actual games, a computer, a telly, and other stuff like that covered the room, but there was no Game Boy. Your partner Game Boy, not the Nintendo handheld game console. He did, in fact, have one of them on a shelf.

There was a note taped to his computer which is odd because Game Boy rarely ever wrote anything with a pen or pencil. He also never let anything so “dated” as a pen and paper note on his precious computer. Not if he was in his right mind anyway.

You got closer, out of curiosity of what was so important that Game decided to write it out. The handwriting was very sloppy, you noticed.

Do you remember where we met? The note asked. I do. I thought you looked amazing. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t say anything. I was so tongue-tied, it was rather embarrassing.

You smiled, remembering how flushed Game had been. He couldn’t even look at you. It was adorable.

Find where we met. Follow the trail and we’ll see each other soon enough. Let me take you on an adventure. You won’t regret it. I promise. I love you - G

Your heart swelled in your chest.

‘A game from Game Boy,’ you thought. ‘How cute.’

You left the flat, wanting to see just what game Game was playing.

•

Standing near a park bench, you looked around.

You had been around here, on a walk, when you’d bumped into Game. Stupidly, you hadn’t been watching where you were going and ran into him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I am so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t see you.”

You looked into his beautiful blue eyes and your heart skipped a beat.

The young man you’d run into turnt away, blushing and pulled his black trench coat tighter. He nodded, still looking at the ground.

“Again, really sorry.” You walked past him but stopped next to a park bench. After a few seconds, you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at him.

The blue-eyed boy stood there, looking at you, his hands in his pockets and scarf wiping back from the wind. He was considerably round and he had some acne, but it didn’t bother you. His eyes told you everything. There was more going on behind them than most would assume. More what, you didn’t know. But he seemed to know so much. One look into them and it was like you had had a glance into endless something, but you weren’t sure what. It was within your grasp and, yet, an ocean away.

Your eyes met again and warmth filled your chest. You smiled and waved at him.

His already deep blush deepened.

You walked down the path. A note, taped to a bench, caught your attention. You picked it up and opened it.

This is where you stopped when we first met. The moment you looked back at me and our eyes met, I could feel myself falling for you. I don’t get that feeling anymore. It’s more of knowing I love you and you love me kinda feeling, but I digress.

You smiled. His words rang true for you, too. There were no longer butterflies and lightning. But there was a feeling of belonging with him that you could feel in your heart.

Sometimes, I wonder why you weren’t repulsed by my acne and fat. I still have no idea why you’d go out with me. But, I’m glad you did ask me out. Being with you has been something else. A fantastic something else.

After the first time walking through the park, you started going there more often. At one point, it was every single day. All you wanted was to see him again. But, it took months before you did.

And when you did, as cliche as it sounds, it was like the whole world stopped around you. Without even thinking about it, you walked over and asked him out.

You got a stuttered yes, but it was still a yes.

Go to where we had our first date and you’ll find a friend and a note waiting. - G

•

After getting out of the car, you made your way to the arcade you and Game Boy had spent your first date. It had been easier to get him to talk about video games than it was himself. Still, the way he had talked about his favourite, and his most hated, games made you fall deeper in love.

The two of you played a ton of games, usually for two players. He’d even called you his player two, as a joke.

“Hey, Y/N,” the attendant, Steve, said. “G stopped by earlier. Told me to give you this.” He handed you a note.

I know I didn’t really let you talk much when we were here, but when you asked about my favourites to play, I just started rambling. It did make it easier to talk to you, though.

Speaking of rambling, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was a bit nonsensical, wasn’t it? I don’t know why you love that movie (or the book) but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to wear the VHS tape out with you. Seeing you happy was the best part of that. Now, Alice, my dear, go back home and go down the rabbit hole once again. - G

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was indeed nonsensical which was the best part about it. There was no real story. It was nonsense, the best kinda sense there is.

“Thanks, Steve. See ya later,” you said as you left.

•

Back home, you went to the telly and pulled out the VHS tapes. On AAiW’s case was a note from Game.

We’re pretty close to the end now. But, just to say it before I say it, I love you. As much as I found this movie weird, nonsensical, and rather insane, I found it worth every second spent watching because I got to spend time with you. Y/N, you mean everything to me. I love you. The reason I say this now is because I’m not the best at saying things without coming off like a prick. It’s easier to write them.

You can find me at the address below. And, as the rabbit always says, “I’m late.” So get here before I have to chop off your head for tardiness (or should I say tartiness?). - G

You chuckled softly at the pun and ran a finger down the page.

The address below wasn’t familiar to you so you pulled out a map.

•

The warehouse looked disgusting on the outside. Broken windows and grime-covered walls were not the most romantic thing, but still, if Game Boy was here, it’d be worth it.

You walked in, expecting to walk across broken glass or something, but there was no crunch beneath you. A path looked like it had been swept clean for you. It trailed to the back of the warehouse, small origami roses laying on it.

You followed them and picked them up one by one. The first few were plain white with green-painted stems. But, slowly, red started to bleed onto them. The ones farthest away were fully red, just like the Queen wanted.

The last rose sat on a door handle, the kind typically found in warehouses that jut out to the side. You picked it up, twirling the faux stem in your fingers. The rest of the bouquet sat in your arm. You could smell the paint coming off them.

The door creaked open and a shy figure peeked out.

“G?” You asked.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “Please?”

You did as he asked, heart pumping. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

As much as you wanted to know, you knew Game Boy had a hard time figuring out what was okay and what wasn’t when it came to real-life people.

“You’ll see,” he said.

The door creaked open more and he shuffled out. He picked the bouquet out of your arms as well as the last flower before disappearing for a moment. The warmth of his hands transferred to yours as he led you into the office. You could hear the door close again. Game Boy positioned you right in front of something, guiding you by your upper arms. His warmth left you before he spoke.

“You can open them now,” he said.

He stood in front of a table, a vase of the origami flowers he had made in his hands. Candles hung down from the ceiling in a heart formation, each holder connected by wire.

You silently stared at the sight.

Game Boy breathed heavily, his coat thrown off to the side. Still, his turtleneck was a little hot right now. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous or overheated. Probably both.

You stepped forward and took the vase from him and set it down on a table.

“You did all this?” You asked.

He nodded, wiping his hands on his khakis. “I wanted it to be special.”

“Wanted what?”

He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I’m not the best at this,” he mumbled under his breath. He straightened and looked you in the eye, despite that being rather uncomfortable for him. “Y/N, we’ve been dating for a while. Not a super long one, but it’s been a while. And I know you said you wanted to wait before calling us partners, but I can’t wait any longer. I love you so much. I want- I want you to be my player two. Permanently. Not just for a game or two.”

He seemed to have practised saying the speech over and over again.

You walked forward and pulled him into a kiss by the fabric of his turtleneck. Game Boy cupped your cheek and kissed back gently.

You pulled away, smiling. “I’ll gladly be your player two for as long as we both play the game fair.”

Game Boy sighed in relief, a giant grin spreading across his face. He leant in and kissed you again.

#american gods #american gods fanfiction #technical boy #tarot troop #game boy #technical x reader

[valkyrieofsmut]

Mk so the previous ask of mc with a kid got me thinking, what about pregger mc who’s boy friend/husband/father of the child ditched her upon finding out she was pregnant and because of being pregnant she was one of the first to get canned at her job (since from what I recall it’s unaviable to have that kind of job while carrying) when they started making cuts and with her being unable to pay rent and the ‘no kids’ policy of her apartment complex she had to move into her trailer at the boys land >:3.

Um... I’d love to answer all of this/ more exactly to the question... but I have a few problems here for understanding... That whole first part, easy to understand, got it... The part about her being one of the first to go: she was, in the story; they don’t care if you’re preggs or not, they only care about how much money they’re spending to pay you. So it definitely wouldn’t matter if she was pregnant, they don’t care, and any risk is defined as risk you took; they’re not liable (not like you could really prove much, anyway). And lastly, the “no kids” policy? ...? Where tf do you live that has that?! It’s been illegal to refuse to rent to anyone because they have kids since 1968 due to the “fair housing policy”! I! I don’t know, but if you’re living somewhere they’re telling you that, look that shit up and let them know you know. Fuck them! They can’t do that shit to you! (there is an acceptance for places classified as “retirement/ old age/ whatever tf” but she couldn’t live there because she’s not old enough, anyway.)

Other than that stuff, I see it just as a “what if MC was pregnant when she got there and asshole left her” question, so I’ll answer that.

Classic- He doesn’t even really think about it for a long while, not even when she starts showing. It literally takes until she can’t walk anywhere without having to try to catch her breath/ not being able to stand for long/ about to go into labor (aka very pregnant) until it is something that he even has to keep reminding himself, just so he doesn’t get irritated that she can’t keep up. And then when she goes into labor, it suddenly comes to him- there’s going to be a tiny human here soon! Fuck! He needs to do something, doesn’t he?! Where do humans have babies?! Right. The hospital. Ok. Panic over. He’s going to get her there right now.

Creampuff- She’s mated? Oh... her mate left... unfortunate... Humans don’t live in such a small community that they can all just stay around each other and raise their children together like they sort of did in the Underground. He’s not sure exactly how humans do it normally, but monsters all pitch in, and he’s ready to help! He likes kids! They’re so amazed at the world around them and look up to him, and are so sweet! He’s always glad to help with the little one when they get here, and until then, he’s going to make sure that she’s as comfortable as possible, almost to the point of being underfoot, like the stereotypical nosy mother in law.

Red- Eh, kid ain’t here, yet- and that means he’s got free range, since there’s no chance that he’ll knock her up! He is his same self, flirty, trying to get in her pants, just normal Red! And then she starts showing. And he spends lots of time watching her baby belly. Any time anyone ever even curses around her, he yells at them, completely missing the hypocrisy. “what th’ fuck ya sayin’ shit like that ‘n front a the kid fer?! shut yer yap!” The more she shows, the more he’s by her side and doesn’t want to leave. More invitations for nights of just cuddles than orgasm relief start coming. He... likes touching her belly... and imagining that it’s his kid in there... don’t fuckin’ tell anyone! He really is a family kinda guy when it gets down to it, and he’s going to be one of the first to offer to help with the kid, and not in the helpful friend kind of way that Creampuff is. He’d... “uh... like ta have one wit ya, too... whadda ya say, sweetheart?”

Edge- It does not affect him, until it does. When she starts to get cranky and irritable from being pregnant, he’ll be wary of her, but he’ll also seek her out at times, because he knows that yelling and arguing helps when you feel so aggravated. Yep, he’s actually trying to help (Y/n) relieve some stress when he's arguing with her. His brother isn’t around to do it, and- ... he... can’t bring himself... to offer that kind of stress relief after being the cause of a lot of her irritation for so long... He hopes that she’ll be able and/ or willing to move past that after the baby is born. When she goes into labor, he seems completely cold and in control, belittling those around him for being stupid as usual- but inside he’s really freaking out. When the baby is born, he’ll be walked in on holding the baby, looking parental, maybe... almost... maternal...? Breath a word of it to anyone, and you’ll be regretting your own birth...

Blue- He’s smarter, and more mature, than people give him credit for! And that’s going to show itself in the way he fights with Red while trying to get her “nest” ready. He always “just happens” to find things that would look great in the lodge! And some of the ladies at work were talking, one’s niece was going to have a baby, too! And he heard that you need to have this specific type of thing when you’re having a baby! And he just happened to see it while he was at the store, and thought he’d save her the trouble of having to get it later when she’s all achy and sore! Spoiler, he’s actually joined some mom groups and has started asking the ladies at work about when they’d had their kids and is doing a lot of research. He wants to make sure she’s as prepared as she can possibly be! And... all the while, he’s going to be working himself into her life so that after the baby is born, it’ll just be natural for him to be around! And then he’ll just- stay there... in her life... and it’ll already be like they’re mated by the time he actually asks her.

Stretch- He’s not phased by it- until she gets to about the third trimester and is really showing. He hangs out around the lodge a lot, “just happen to be workin’ in the lab a lot lately.” He’s pretty chill, hanging in the background, but he’s, y’know... keepin’ a socket out for her... incase she needs anything, or anything happens... humans are fragile, after all, and that’s a complicated stage to be at... He’s not going to be in the foreground helping, like some of the Papyri, and he’s not going to be doing things behind the scenes, like some of the Sanses, he’s actually the one worried that he’ll break the kid, despite knowing, scientifically, that he won’t. He’s doing what he can to make sure the baby’s doing well and is taken care of, though- even if it is mostly by “casually” mentioning to Blue that something needs to be done or gotten- his bro is better at that stuff, anyway.

Black- He doesn't quite notice at first- not that he doesn't know, just that whole "out of sight, out of mind" thing. So he doesn't really take it into consideration, after all, she's a human; she'd know her limits when pregnant better than he would, wouldn't she? He starts doing research to see if there's something he should look out for and finds so many troubling things! Humans die from this?! They could be hospitalized?! They could lose the baby if something as small as that happens?! Yep... he's fallen into webMD... He's now going to make Mutt do everything for her while he keeps her by his side to stop her from getting hurt.

Mutt- It doesn't really matter to him. The kid isn't there, yet, so it sounds like the perfect time to be trying to get her to keep her pants (and the rest of her clothes) off and stay in bed with him all day, every day. If he does manage to get her in bed (or she gets the pregnancy hornys and takes him up on his open offer), he's not pulling out. All his magic is going inside of her. He thinks it's so fucking sexy, until he realizes that he's poured all his magic into her and... possibly her kid... um... oh... And now the kid is also his. Whether he was there to start the kid or not (obviously not, since she was already pregnant when they met), his magic is all over the kid, and he wouldn't be surprised if the kid turns out to be a mage.

Axe- When he first sees her, he doesn't know, or care. It really doesn't affect him other than being a bonus tastey treat inside... When he gets to know her, and she starts to show, it changes. There are two responses to pregnancy in the Underground; the fear of having another mouth to feed, of losing them before you even name them, due to the famine- but, before everything went to hell, pregnancy meant hope. It meant future... And with plenty of food around- it reminds Axe of that. He will begin stockpiling food, it will be everywhere. He will come make (Y/n) eat, even if he has to come ask her to make a meal for him, and then slowly trick her into eating most of it. She’s going to gain a lot of weight if she’s not careful.

Crooks/ Bun- He jumps on that the moment he finds out, even if she's not showing. He uses it as a reason not to hurt or eat her when reasoning with Axe, he holds her forth as a symbol of hope and future. He still becomes her best Bun! But he's also like the one who goes to all the classes and everything with her, Lamaze classes, shopping for everything she could need... He is there for her. And also... maybe... mother henning her a bit- but only in the good ways!

Dusty- It really doesn't cross his mind at all, until there is visible evidence; she starts showing. And then he's pretty weirded out that there's a baby- an itty bitty human, growing inside her. He keeps a wary eye on her, and especially after she delivers. He’s very nervous about what havoc this little one could wreak! ... but then... he realizes that... with this one starting out brand new, without any pre taught awfulness... he could teach it- he could train it how to be good... and then he has a little bit of hope...

Ask Masterlist?

[televisionrulesthenation]

S1E10 - “The Meershatz Pipe”

Original air date: November 28, 1961

Episode recap

At this office Rob, Buddy and Sally are working on the script for this week’s show. Rob seems overly-annoyed, probably because he’s tired.

Buddy and Sally decide to take a smoke break while Rob lies down. Buddy pulls out a fancy looking pipe he says is a gift from Alan Brady. He says Alan’s got quite the pipe collection in his den. Not having been to Alan’s house in a quite a while, an obviously jealous Rob leaves the office.

Rob returns home to find Laura and Richtie in the kitchen. Richtie wants Rob to read to him. Rob’s still in a bad mood but obliges. Richtie requests a book about Native Americans. Rob reads the part about the peace pipe and his mood worsens.

The next morning Rob is so weak is not able to the finish the second pushup of his typical twenty pushup morning routine. Laura insists he gets back in bed and take a sick day.

He checks in at the office via phone a couple times and everything seems to be under control with the show. Rob starts to feel unneeded.

The next morning he sneaks out of bed before Laura and heads to work looking disheveled. When he gets off the elevator, Mel stops him before he can even enter his office. Mel insists Rob leave as he can’t risk getting Alan sick before a live show. Buddy and Sally say they’ve got everything covered.

Later Rob and Laura watch the live Alan Brady show in bed. Laura thinks it’s hysterical. Rob is not amused because he didn’t work on it. Rob tells Laura he’s going to call Alan and resign. Why pay three writers when two can do the job? He thinks it’ll be better to resign than be fired when he looks for another job.

Before Alan signs off, he calls Rob live on the air and says to get well. He delivers a message from his co-writers: “HELP!” Turns out Rob is needed after all. Next day at the office, Buddy gives Rob a pipe that looks just like the one he has. He got it at the corner store. Buddy had only been joking the other day about Alan giving him a gift.

Everything is about me

I just had two of my seven direct reports accept different roles in the company in the past week.

Managing people is hard. Ostensibly, your job is to do your job. But then you also have to concern yourself with a bunch of other people’s jobs. And then you realize, it’s their job to do your job. You just have to make sure they do it.

And inspire them and challenge them. And make sure they are developing themselves to do jobs that are not your job in the future.

And the good ones leave and you have to train new people to do your job. But first you have to persuade them of why it will be great for them to be trained by you to do your job.

I am constantly recognizing my people for the littlest of things and at the same time not recognizing them enough somehow.

At work I am simultaneously Rob and Alan and Buddy and Sally and Mel.

My best person left. I recognized her and thanked her so far above my comfort level of offering thanks and praise to someone, and it was still probably not enough.

I pride myself in being a transparent communicator. But my other person that left always told me he felt disconnected and under-communicated to. So I just tried harder. Last week he told me his new org’s communication is just like ours and jokingly apologized to me for giving me a hard time the last few years.

I truly hope none of my people are sitting at home in bed right now feeling as unappreciated as Rob before he received that call from Alan.

Episode observations

Life before cell phones

I am not sure if I want to keep going with the section in the long run. The intention is point out all the plots based around pointless misunderstandings that would be easily resolved with cell phones.

I guess plots like these count. Again, it’s not as direct, but a cell phone with texting would have kept Rob in constant communication with Buddy, Sally and Mel throughout him being home sick. That’s the big difference a cell phone would have made in this plot. Nearly identical to the dog sitting thing last time. I can’t keep writing this over and over, can I?

Clothes and fashion

The thought of putting on a suit and tie when I am not feeling well makes my skin crawl. Anything but pajamas is a bridge too far when I’m sick.

Smoking references

In the office on a break, Sally gets out a pack of cigarettes, Buddy gets out a pipe. They never show them actually smoke, but smoking seems to a fairly normal thing. Still no direct evidence that Rob or Laura smokes.

Pop culture references

When Laura was trying to prove to Rob he was feeling too weak, she sort of pinned him down in bed. He jokingly called her Gorgeous George, the name of an old-timey pro wrestler I recognize but don’t know why exactly.

Not sure this observation fits here or anywhere, but Laura mentioned she weighted 112 pounds during this exchange.

Life advice

“I like him better when he likes himself.”

Richtie says that to his mom about his dad. Rob, feeling down about work, is not putting his best parenting effort forward. It was pretty corny and over the top scene, but it rang true to me. Trying to parent when you have other things on your mind.

Taking care of yourself first so you can be the best caretaker for those that need you.

Best/joke funniest moment

Buddy: He must have 500 pipes in his den

Rob: His den, in this house?

Buddy: No, in his car, what kind of question is that?

(The humor was all in Buddy’s delivery.)

Other assorted thoughts on life in the 1960s

Themes of employee engagement and not coming to work when you’re sick. That seems ahead of its time.

Rob’s office had an elevator operator.

Laura fixes some warm salt water for Rob to gargle with. I was going to leave it at that sentence, as it seemed so ridiculous it didn’t seem worth Googling. But my curiosity got the better of me and I Googled it. And apparently it is a thing and it helps your sore throat.

Richtie spit out some fact he learned on a kids’ TV show. And Laura thought aloud to herself, “who says television wasn’t educational.” I feel like that too was a thing back when I was a kid in the ‘80s and ‘90s, worrying about the educationalness of TV. I don’t really think about it nowadays.

The separate beds thing isn’t getting any less weird.

Final thoughts

What Alan Brady on-air phone calls could I make for my people right now?

#s1 #e10 #the dick van dyke show #sitcoms #tv #dick van dyke #mary tyler moore #1960s #health #work #management #parenting

[rataltouille]

HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 1

this has been long overdue. typical, really. [novel intro found here.]

the story is currently eight chapters in but it's also a very strange eight chapters. i’m not really happy with half of these words because they're unnecessary ™ and dull ™ and serve no purpose whatsoever ™. i’m simply choosing to ignore that i need to cut them out. :’] here’s a note i made that perfectly captures my feelings so far:

before we go into the excerpts, i want to talk a bit about how house plants is structured because the format is whack. each chapter ranges from 3000-4000 words. A few vignettes, around 500 words, are sprinkled between these chapters. the chapters narrate events from the fictive past, while the vignettes are snippets into the fictive present [the point from where lilith is retelling the story]. additionally, an important plot thread is told entirely in the form of an epistolary [through letters] and so there's a bit more of confusion to navigate through. fun times.

and now for the excerpts. they're from the first three chapters and are very weird out of context. i think that each update will feature excerpts from three consequent chapters, but that may change as we get closer to spoiler land.

excerpts:

chapter one

the novel kicks off with an odd vignette featuring an unhinged willow and an innocent lilith. chronologically, this is set way back, the earliest scene ever, around when lilith was ten or eleven. it’s meant to establish a sense of unease and to thread the unsettling undertone i’m going for. it's also major foreshadowing but we don't talk about that here. i’m not giving away much because there's not many excerpts to scrape out from a dialogue-heavy vignette like this.

”Here, let me help, mother.”

I tried guiding your palms to the rim of the pot, but you moved them away. From the brief touch, my fingers came away with moisture. On second glance, your knuckles were bathed in sweat. Your veins pulsed and your hands shivered. You gave me a wide-eyed glance, dumped the plant atop the brown, and stood up. You wiped the dirt away on your jeans. From below, with sunlight teetering over your golden hair, you were a personification of God. But were you, really? Does God fear their children? Does God volunteer to garden? I didn't know what God truly meant. I don't now either. But I’m certain it wasn't you.

”Sorry, Lilith. My pollen allergy is acting up.”

It's stunning how it ran in our blood, lying effortlessly.

chapter two

immediately after this we’re pulled off into the linear non-vignette chapter thing, aka the second chapter. [god what am i doing with this structure]. it starts with a soft little reminiscent bit about juniper?? i’m exploiting the tense a lot but it's been fun. (:

The first time she smiled at me is knit into me, like I’m not myself without it. I’m not. She breathed change and I ran with it. Whenever she gazed at me, with sunset dripping behind her head, or with rain clouds dotting her hairline, she’d smile. It was the sound of a ukulele in a winter draft, the kiss of dew on my favourite hemlock, the fond mythical curl of my father’s arms around me. There’s a phantom of love everywhere, and I almost caught it sneaking around her. Even now, Juniper dozes so soundly; she’s replaced everything I wanted you to be and everything you never were. You’d know, of course. You always have.

willow is officially introduced soon after, and so is one of the major plot threads, i.e. lilith’s correspondence with her dad. this excerpt is to show how the family feel about each other became, like i mentioned, there’s a lot of tea to be split here. not gonna lie, this paragraph reads as kinds pure.

You— the town called you Wistful Willow, but they did so behind your back and on postcards to neighbours— had a special lilt in your tone every time you spoke his name. ”Isac,” your lips would curl, almost a smile, and I’d smile back. You loved it, the sound of his name. It had become a ritual for us, pouring our sorrow and joy and unrest and comfort into those two syllables. A fallback plan, I suppose; there was always father to rely on amidst chaos.

willow is constantly at home and she’s probably not seen the outside world in a million years. she either cooks, reads, sits in a bathtub, or does everything at the same time. not odd at all.

The bathroom door, thick oak painted ivory, was right across where I stood. The house was large and empty, and I had three places— study, bedroom, garden— to myself. I lived only with you, so it was mostly quiet, except on Saturdays when we got father’s mail and watched TV together. That Saturday we had seen an old movie from the 70s, a random romance that neither of us cared for, but watched out of duty.

The door was shut. From it came the sound of pages rustling, not unlike a delicate breeze playing with the fronds of croton plants. I knocked softly.

”Come in, ” you said, a splash of water punctuating your voice.

I entered to find you half-immersed in the bathtub, one hand holding a novel, the other limp across the rim. There lingered the scent of soapy water, rose-tinted, and all over the tiled walls was the water’s reflection, a glow of opulence. You were half-naked, your garments drifting like algae. Your habit of reading in the bathtub had been increasing lately. You looked at me, questioning.

there’s also the introduction of lilith’s best friends marcy and faun, where they lay down in the middle of a field after a tiring cricket match and banter all through the evening. i’m really enjoying the trio’s friendship; it's both fun to write and they’re just so pure.

”If you insult Henry one more time, Marce...”

”He actually named the butterfly.” Her eyes were wide and amused; she dug up mud with her nails and flicked it upwards, glanced at me. ”Lilith. He named his fucking butterfly.”

”Faun, it's dead. You keep it in a box, ” I said.

”The dead don't magically lose their names, ” he countered.

Our laughter drafted into town. I don't think it heard.

chapter three

this is kind of uneventful but it sets up some major subplots. i might push it to later in the book, but i’m happy with where it it's right now. lilith randomly keeps reminiscing throughout so that’s convenient. this excerpt is about willow and thus is unreliable as hell. willow ain't good and lilith ain't 100% sincere narrating this right now, so don't let its pureness fool you.

People in town, I’d hear, found you odd and unsociable, cold and distant. I always scoffed when they told me so. They only knew the Willow who never attended community gatherings, who’d gaze out absentmindedly from the porch, who’d more so see than observe, hear than listen. They didn't know the Willow who was my mother, who hated loud noises, who loved her novels with a passion, who spoke so serenely— and rarely— that you hung onto her every word. Only I saw this side of you, and that suited me just fine.

there’s a scene where lilith [accidentally] spies on marcy and another guy. their conversation makes lilith tangent off in her head.

Marcy spoke detachedly, like she was speaking through a filter of not caring. I worried for her and her charade. It didn't help that scented letters confessing love often found their way to her locker, or that roses were shoved in her face as if her admirers loved her so much that they forgot she was allergic to them. Idolisation and adoration took extreme forms; she was stalked for a month and sent death threats. She would put on a disguise of indifference and seem unbothered, but at night she’d soak her pillow and lose sleep, then inform us the next day about her insomnia so casually that we almost forgot how easily she hurt.

i’m not going to lie, the last line in this excerpt was just me indulging myself with the knowledge of the climax. i need to stop slipping in random tone changes like this lol.

My walk home finished quick, though my feet expressed exhaustion. I was right on time, too; you were sitting by your coffee table, glasses crooked upon your nose, a new novel— this one a bright red sky, gold print, gauzy— resting beside warm coffee. You barely smiled, but that was because you were daydreaming. I was familiar with every tell: your eyes would tilt towards my forehead, your lips would stretch, your fingers would drum on whatever you were holding. I’d always let you be when you drowned into your head. Did you ever notice that, Mother? Have you ventured out of your mind to witness my efforts?

and finally some food for thought. yes, that pun was intended. i’ll see myself out.

”Dinner’s ready, dear,” you called. I groaned out my fatigue and left my room, hoping to abandon my unflattering thoughts. In the kitchen, I helped you set the table. Soon we were both sipping hot carrot soup with a side of breadsticks. You were already invested in the novel. I held the spoon, the heat barely registering, and watched you drift through fiction and reality like a will o’ the wisp. Maybe I could read for escapism, too. It would do me good.

that’s all for today! thanks for reading so far; support is, as always, appreciated. hope you liked these excerpts ✨

#house plants #writeblr #am writing #spare some love please i can’t believe the amount of time i spent on this post 😔🙏 #house plants update

[ask-gotham-city]

Do you have any favorite conspiracy theories surrounding the bats?

G: Since I’m not as passionate about the Bats in the same way W is, I mostly stick to their history in and impact on Gotham more than the theories and more fandom-y side of the community. However, I do strongly believe at least a few of them aren’t fully human. My front runners for that theory are Black Bat II, Batman, Red Hood, and Orphan. There’s just something funky going on w/ those guys. Anyways I’ll turn it over to W now for whatever she has in mind.

W: Oh boy anon :-)

Here’s a whole post we’ve made about Batman theories, and now it’s time to get into some others.

1. There have been/are multiple Batmen

Think about it. Being Batman is a tiring and complicated job, he gets beat up a ton, much more than most people could probably take. Not to mention descriptions of his personality, voice, abilities, etc. vary wildly from person to person. Makes you think. Is it multiple people alternating wearing the suit over months or years? Is it really just one crazy powerful or supernatural guy? No one fuckin knows bro!

2. The Red Hood is some kind of ghost or zombie

There are soooo many reports of strange encounters with Red Hood. People describe everything from feeling like they’re being watched to getting a strange cold sensation when they catch sight of him. I’ve had that experience once, when I saw him while walking home. By all accounts he carries this weird air of oddness with him, something unsettling and supernatural. He still acts pretty human in fights and when he talks to civilians according to most reports, but no one can remember what his voice sounds like. At all. We love a spooky bitch guys, but damn that bro creepy.

3. They’re all vampires

I mean. A classic. From the Bat theme to reports of members reportedly being supernatural or withstanding lethal wounds to Bat sightings in the day being extremely rare, there’s really a lot you can speculate on. Also there are a few pictures floating around the internet from like... idk some time a few years ago that actually look like a vampire Batman, but it might just be photoshop.

4. New developments and theories in the hero relationship world

Over the past couple of weeks there have been reports of some new or changed hero relationships. I guess the capes are jumping on the Wayne trend of breakups! The only stuff I’ve really been able to find so far is that Spoiler/RR couple sightings have declined recently, and that a few weeks ago when there was that company explosion over in San Fran there were also some shaky videos that have lead people to believe RR might be with Superboy, Impulse, or both now. We aren’t really sure! But I hope all parties involved are happy with where they are. There have also been more scattered sightings indicating a possible new relationship for Mr. Batman himself, but the parties involved can’t be identified in the video. 

5. Secret Batfamily leader/puppet master?

This is a favorite of mine. It stems off the fact that when the Bats are caught talking a lot in battle, it never seems to be to each other. People have picked out a few names that don’t match up with the vigilante’s aliases, including A, O (thought to be Orphan by some though people talked about this mystery person before that name change, making that unlikely), and finally Oracle (who many people have tied to the aforementioned ‘O’). Is there someone behind the scenes organizing the Bats? A leader who isn’t Batman? The theories on who this is range from the second Robin and first Batgirl all the way to Bruce Wayne. I love this theory, and though I don’t have a stake in this mystery person’s identity I do think they exist. I don’t see too many people talking about this one though which is insane! There might be another Bat right under our noses guys!!

6. Spoiler=resurrected from dead or relative of previous Spoiler

I’ve talked abt this one before but I was too lazy to find the post. Basically, there’s a swirl of theories around the blonde haired vigilante(s) that have been seen in Gotham. Some theorists think they’re all the same person, from the first Spoiler to that female Robin to the blonde Batgirl to the current Spoiler, but some people think there’s more to it. It’s pretty well known that something bad happened to the female Robin. There was all that gang shit and violence and then there are civilian reports of seeing Batman at a free clinic in the Narrows, etc. etc. Personally, I agree with the people that think she died, which is pretty widely accepted as fact. From there though things get muddy. Some people think that girl was resurrected somehow (it happens man who knows) and went on to be Batgirl and Spoiler, others think she didn’t die but you end up the same way. People who think she wasn’t resurrected point to the similarities in hair and build of the following heroes as a possible genetic connection, citing sisters, twins, even parents or children depending on the age people slot the original Spoiler at. Personally I kind of like the sister theory, but imagining the original Spoiler is still kicking is a happier concept. I’m not really sure on this one but it’s a deep rabbit hole for sure.

7. The Signal is a meta

This ones almost not a theory, just based on the amount of overheard conversations and firsthand accounts. People aren’t quite sure what his powers are, but I’ve found stuff on shadow manipulation, possible precog stuff (though might just be Bat training), and other mixed abilities. This is one of my favorites just because I already thought Signal was cool, but when the news of him being a possible meta started spreading I know a lot of meta kids in Gotham found a new role model! You don’t have to be a supervillain if you have powers in Gotham, you can be a hero too!

Anyways I have more but those are a couple off the top of my head and this is long enough. Let me know your guys’ thoughts on any of these, or if you have any theories yourself. I’d love to talk to some other Batfans!

-W

#the dynamic duwu #gotham city #batfam #batfamily #red hood #jason todd #spoiler #stephanie brown #batgirl #robin #timkonbart #barbara gordon #oracle #duke thomas #the signal #dc #dc comics

[og-danny-dorito]

Hancock SFW Headcanons To Satiate My Undying Thirst for This Raisin

this is dedicated to all of my 12 year old monster/humanoid obsessions, and to the ones which may follow such as this mans, John Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbor. because I'll be damned if I see a ghoul and don't become immediately attracted to them. also these weren't requested, but @thatwolfnamednyla​ seemed interested so i'll tag them (i can remove the tag too if you want me to, just let me know).

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

S F W :

- ok so, I’m gonna start off with physical headcanons because it’s easier for me to base everything off of that 

- since most of the heights in the game are the same and they don’t really give any actual canon heights for them, I’d say that he’s about 5”5 because I love the imagine of a short man with a knife. like-

- yeah he’s definitely powerful and strong willed and mental the opposite of a short baby man, but like can you just imagine some dude walking up to you and having to look up at you because he’s small? Especially a high af ghoul man small boy? an artistic virtue

- that, and he’s generally the most crackhead out of all the companions 

- like he’s the guy to go to if you’re itching to bust out some chems and go shoot at random shit in the middle of the night cause he’s just that kinda dude 

- he lives for the thrill of things, and so obviously someone equally as crackhead as he is would fit him perfectly, but for the sake of actual relationship building I’d say that he’s better fit with a rational crackhead 

- like yeah, going out and getting yourself fucked up is great, but like not to the point of getting yourself so fucked up beyond repair, yknow? someone who takes a second and a half to think his crazy ass ideas through and THEN do it with him is the best person for the job as his metaphorical babysitter 

- and he really likes to be taken care of because he’s a sucker for that shit. I would say that he has a daddy/mommy kink but like these aren’t nsfw and so I’m not gonna bust out that nasty shit just yet 

- that said, being his partner doesn’t have very specific guidelines. being pansexual AND polyamorous allows him to love freely as he was genetically destined to anyway 

- seriously, he’s attracted to you if you say something nice to him and show a little bit of interest that’s just how it is. he doesnt really think of appearances unless he's only out for dick

- he doesn’t really have a specific type either??? but he finds timid and nervous people so fucking cute. like,,, if you keep apologizing because of small things he’ll ruffle your hair and start calling you ‘kid’ and ‘sweetie’ cause honestly it’s just so sweet to see you get all nervous and shy 

- it literally makes him want to fistfight someone in an abandoned parking lot for you and he can't help his protectionist ways

- like he likes to be taken care of yeah, but he ends up setting y’all in the ‘give some get some’ scenario where it’s more of a partnership 

- jokingly calls you ‘smoothskin’ even if your skin isn’t smooth like you’re scarred or something. it cracks him up because he does it in a smoker voice too but he already sounds like a smoker so he ends up coughing a little bit after in between laughs 

- biggest goofball on the planet 

- will literally play pranks on you because he finds it funny, like using makeshift pre-war whoopee cushion and shit like that. will also 100% love it if you prank him back. he doesn’t take much seriously and so any form of mild joking makes him genuinely happy 

- if you’re inclined to more permanent relationships however, this could become an issue. not the whole whoopee cushion thing the seriousness thing

- just because he does sleep with other people and lowkey tell you all the time about how “That raider was packin, and I don’t mean to be a whore but honestly like if he wanted some he could get some.”, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. it’s just that it’s normal for him to be attracted to other people at the same time. it can be more than one person at once, which can sometimes be a problem if more traditional people not cool with it 

- confronting him about it either to confirm it negatively or positively depends on your preference. he didn’t really think of this as permanent in the first place, more of a friends with benefits situation where you also benefit each other with extreme emotional support, and so you wanting to make it serious will trigger his fear of commitment 

- therefore, if you’re not okay with it he may have a hard time adapting, but if he’s really grown on you then he can try to be better about it. he won’t make the one he loves uncomfortable without their permission, but he’ll try his best to explain it (the best that he can doesn't necessarily that he’ll do it well though) 

- if you’re alright with it then he will most likely bring up the topic of either threesomes/poly-somes and/or adding someone else to your romantic stuff or something like that if either of areyou is interested. communication is key in this sort of thing, and so he’ll almost always go to you before like trying to initiate anything with someone after talking with them and you about the situation 

- oh did I mention fear of commitment? Cause I’m about to get real angsty 

- MAN does he have an issue with it. not only that, but the reason he doesn’t really view this thing as permanent is because he’s fairly certain he’ll outlive you. he's terrified of loosing you one day and then not knowing what the he'll to do with himself for the rest of his life. he’s scared of being tied down it totally goes against his whole thing of freedom, and since he’s already conflicted about anarchy and order he literally avoids thinking about settling down with anyone or anything 

- he’s holding onto a past that brought him joy then, but could ruin him now. and the best way to deal with that is to try to get through it as best as you can and leave the past behind, but he still finds himself reminiscing about things that could’ve happened 

- it keeps him up sometimes, thinking about it. he’ll lay flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours at a time just... thinking. and only when he’s lightly pressed about it will he say something, and even then it seems more like he’s struggling to find the words. It’s weird how he can talk to goodneighbor’s citizens like it’s nothing, but talking about himself gets him all choked up 

- he would very much like it if you just like, kissed his face or hold his hand sometimes. to him it speaks more than a thousand words, and if he’s really having a hard time it means everything for you to be there for him 

- that, and with the fact that you’re his best friend means that you’re his ride or die partner in crime 

- just sitting around and doing chems with you and getting all philosophical or doing dumb shit is pretty much all he needs to be satisfied with you, and he really likes hearing you talk about pre-war society 

- whether your views are negative or positive, he likes hearing about the way things used to work. he likes your stories about how you grew up and how you came to be who you are today, and a lot of the time he finds himself asking you about something he doesn’t know because you’re technically the ultimate source of knowledge on that stiff by this point 

- you’d have to assure him that you didn’t know everything and no, you had no idea what year that random object he found was made, but he likes it anyway. you pique his interest, and just sharing a few mindset traits with you makes him feel much more secure and like you’ve got something that matters to the both of you 

- that, and he thinks you’re the coolest motherfucker on the planet 

- he’d probably be more attracted to free spirits, those who hold a strong moral code and defend it like it’s their lifeline. obviously he has a wide range of romantic and causal interest guidelines, but that’s the key point there. Someone who stands for what they believe in and protects those around them 

- and NOW for my favorite part, miscellaneous headcanons ; 

he’s probably the most openly sexual out of all the companions besides Gage, but tbh gage isn't down to walk naked through commonwealth and he is so obviously he’s the most freaky 

he’s more himbo oriented, although with this chart done originally by @cockneydio​

I can tell you that he’s this 👌 close to being a feral himbo and is probably turned on by danger so you can already tell what kinda bitch he is 

he likes to give you his jacket when you’re cold or he just feels like it and it usually smells like cigarettes and gunpowder 

thinks that pastel colors and soft clothes are kind of cute on people for some reason 

is a sucker for pda, might die if you kiss on his neck or tell him he looks nice that day while you’re in public. Also super into just randomly slapping your ass because he finds it hilarious (slapping his ass in turn earns you a flirty comment and a mildly turned on raisin man) 

loves receiving gifts from you and equally as much giving them, which is commonly just cool little things he’s found and thought you would like 

makes cheesy pick up lines all the time and you can’t change my mind 

would die for pet names, given or received. like yes call him “honey” and “sugar” he will MELT he's just a big nerd

he's kinda self conscious about himself around you, but likes phsycial contact too much to deny himself of it so he's literally always attached to you and/or on top of you if he can help it

- hancock isn’t feral, but he sure does act like it sometimes. what he needs is someone who can balance him out and give him the space when he needs it, and who genuinely cares about he people around them regardless of who or what they are. just being there for him on the bad days means the world to him, and he wouldn’t give what y'all have up for all the caps and chems in the world

#John Hancock headcanons #Hancock headcanons #fallout 4 Hancock #hancock #fallout 4 headcanons #fallout 4 imagines #fallout 4 #fallout #nick valentine #cait #curie #deacon #danse #codsworth #ada #elder maxson #old longfellow #longfellow #jesus i love this man #jesus christ #ghouls #falloit 4 ghouls #hancock x sole survivor #sole survivor #dogmeat

[jemej3m]

Please please keep writing that radio host Andreil fic. It was so amazing already thank you

you demand and i supply lmao (slight nswfish warning? lol its just mentioned in passing yall know my ace ass is no good with that)

here’s p.1

*

Andrew didn’t want to come across as eager, but -

Talking with Neil had felt natural. Too natural. And thrilling. God, Andrew didn’t realise his heart could still go that fast. The idea of the music accidentally being cut and his voice being projected out into the world created a false sense of enthrallment that had his pulse stuttering.

Andrew’s fingers itched for his phone as he drove home the next day. How old was Neil? What did he look like? How’d he find himself hosting a midnight show on a shitty Colombian radio station? He seemed like such an enigma, too big for this awfully tiny place.

The way Andrew was waxing about him was foreign and disturbing. He’d never met this man: He had no clue what he looked like, who he was outside of his work, what kind of morals he had.

Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was just his damned voice.

Either way, Andrew found himself calling the same number, all over again. The phone balanced on his knee as he drove.

“It’s Neil from Mid-Nights, what are your thoughts on the rise in crime in Columbia?”

“Any interesting opinions, as of yet?” Andrew inquired, both genuinely curious (something he wasn’t familiar with) and superficially bored.

“None, as of yet.” The presenter answered.

“Shame.” Andrew drawled.

“I recognise this voice.” Neil answered. “You called me last night, didn’t you? Andrew. I remember.”

“Well done.” Andrew said, letting his tone fall flat. “Would you like an award?”

Neil snorted. “I’d like for callers to remain on topic whilst using up a line, but we can’t all get what we want. We can talk for another two minutes, but it’ll cost you a genuine opinion.”

“Fine.” Andrew grunted. “An ideal government would strive for balanced reputation in order to achieve equitable living standards for its citizens. When everything is balanced, there’s no need for crime.”

“Well - ” Neil coughed. “Theoretically.”

“Theoretically.” Andrew echoed.

“What, was that your thesis?”

“I have a doctorate in communications and criminology, so, pretty much.”

“The hell you doing, driving home at this hour every night with qualifications like that?” Neil asked, almost gentle.

Andrew hated the idea that this stranger pitied him. It made his skin feel too tight, made his body pull taut with tension as his teeth ground together. That was none of Neil’s business, and Andrew thought he should know. “You should get off your fucking high horse, Midnighter. You’re no better than me.” Hanging up was satisfying, but Andrew still felt a little hollow.

He didn’t need random radio presenters reminding him of his shortcomings. He had his family for that.

Neil’s music continued to play softly in the background. Another playlist worthy track. Petty and bitter, Andrew ignored it and shoved his fist into the radio’s controls, turning off the station entirely.

*

Neil leant into the microphone and hoped Andrew could hear his grin.

“To the man who hung up on me last night, fuck you too.” Neil’s voice was too playful to be interpreted as serious. Or so he hoped. “My high-horse had its legs chopped off years ago. I was complimenting you, asshole.”

No one would understand him, but it was alright. He was known for angering people.

Half an hour later, as though Andrew had remained in the driveway listening to the show and deciding whether or not to call up, the phone began to rang. Neil picked it up - too enthusiastically, really - and brought it to his ear.

“It’s Neil from Mid-Nights, how are you?”

“Jack-ass.” Andrew answered. “I don’t need no compliments. Stick to what you’re good at: Being an asshole.”

The dial-tone of being hung-up on (again) made Neil grin.

*

It’d been two weeks. Andrew had run through most of his call credit, seeing as he rarely used it in the first place. The conversations were never longer than a few minutes, but the fragmented moments strung together and formed something so rare, so niche, that Andrew had to wonder at himself: What in fuck’s name did he think he was doing?

“I hope this’ll help wake you all from your long-drive stupors.” Neil’s voice, deceptively sweet, laughed into the microphone. “Nothing like some solid distortion solos to get you feeling alive. Oh, and I’m expecting a call. You know who you are.”

“Asshole.” Andrew grunted, cocking his head to the side as he pulled up at a red light. 

Black in Black started blasting from his speakers, unintentionally. Andrew scoffed, squashing down the remnants of his grin, and rolled down the windows. 

He didn’t call Neil till the song had faded into something along the lines of Elton John, not wanting to give Neil the satisfaction of being at his beck and call. 

Neil paid him back the favour, almost letting the call ring out before snatching up the line on its last breath. 

“You’re getting stingy.” Neil complained. “I figured out you get off shift at three. Why the half an hour of time wasted?”

“Making you wait is half the fun.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a creep and go working out my schedule with too little knowledge and too good perceptions. It’s weird.”

“Observations keep me alive and kicking. You like my song choice?”

Neil queued another two songs after Bennie and the Jets so they could talk and Andrew didn’t even mind. He was sure he’d never willingly spent this much time with even his own family.

“You know,” Neil offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice that Andrew’d never heard before. “I could - uh, I could give you my -”

“Spit it out, Josten.”

He could hear Neil’s scowl. “I can’t if you keep interrupting me!” He let out a disgruntled huff. “Well, I just thought - maybe I could give you my personal number.” 

Andrew hummed. “For what purpose?”

“To get to know you better.” Neil said, the blunt confidence returning to his voice. “If that was something you’d be interesting. Or am I just a welcomed blip in the routine?” 

“Do whatever you want. I couldn’t care less.” Andrew lied. 

Neil laughed softly. “Goodnight, Andrew.”

“Night.” 

*

Andrew stood outside the staff entrance letting the smoke curl in his mouth before letting it seep out from between his lips. He’d always broken his breaks up into ten-minute chunks to keep up the flow of nicotine. No one usually spoke to him or acknowledged him. 

Usually. 

Roland, his consistent hook-up over the past six months, leaned against the door to keep it closed. Andrew could appreciate the low-cut sleeveless shirt and the arms folded across the man’s chest. Andrew had left bruises in the shape of his chain necklace when Roland asked him to: He knew Roland wanted something more permanent than what he was willing to give. 

“You’ve been distant.” Roland supplied. 

Andrew flicked ash in his direction, a warning in and of itself. Roland merely rolled his eyes and dropped his arms, opening his palms as an offer. 

That was how it always happened: They had five, ten minutes to spare. There was nothing better to do. Andrew was going through the motions: Going to work, serving drunk fuckwits, smoking in silence, giving Roland head to shut him up, repeat. 

When the other man gasped “We should go out to dinner some time,” Andrew pinched the skin of his thigh. Roland’s hand flew out to stabilise himself against the table-top, effectively hitting the small radio player that worked constantly. 

He must have knocked the frequencies, because Neil’s pearlescent laughter filled the room and Andrew had never felt more disgusted: In himself, in this, in everything. The visceral hatred for his existence was only a glimmer, a fragmented moment, but it was enough to have him stumbling away, shoving his hands through his hair and digging his fingers into his temples. 

“Andrew?” Roland managed. 

“I’m going home.” He snapped, shoving his hands into his pockets. He found his phone and his keys, slamming the staff-entrance door behind him. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he looked at his phone again. Looked at the text from an unknown number that he’d read but not answered. 

hey this is neils number. 

He swallowed against the cotton wad in his throat and typed out an answer. when do you finish? 

neil was quick to respond. four am every morning. aren’t you still on shift? 

Andrew rested his forehead against the steering-wheel and tried to ignore the way his heart raced. left early. 

Neil took over five minutes to answer. Andrew didn’t want to turn on the radio and hear his voice, so he waited. His patience was rewarded a little while later. 

bring me coffee? black, no sugar, no milk. itd be nice to finally see you. 

Andrew shoved down the desire to smile instinctively, hating the unfamiliar twitch to his lips. with a coffee order like that, i’d rather run for the hills. 

shame. Neil answered. see you soon? 

Andrew was a goner, shoving his keys into the ignition as he typed out a hasty reply. 

yeah. see you soon.

*

:DDD

#andreil #radio au #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the gay #jem writes